THE GAME
a morality play in one act
by Louise Bryant
The following one-act play is reprinted from The Provincetown Plays. New York: Frank
Shay, 1916. It is now in the public domain and may therefore be performed without
royalties.
CHARACTERS
LIFE
DEATH
YOUTH
THE GIRL
in need of geniuses right now. Ungrateful spoiled children! They
always want to commit suicide over their first disappointments.
DEATH: (Impatiently) How many times must I tell you that the game
must be played! It's the law--you know it as well as I do.
LIFE: (Shrugging) O, the law! Laws are always in your favor, Death!
DEATH: There you are. I always said the universe would be in a wild
state of disorder if the women had any say! No, you must play the
game.
LIFE: (Indignantly) Whoever said anything about not playing? All I
want is your consent to let them meet here before the game begins.
DEATH: I'll bet this isn't so innocent as it sounds. Who are they? I
haven't paid much attention to the case.
[AT THE RISE, Death is lying on the ground at left, idly flipping dice.
Now and then he glances sardonically at Life who is standing at the
extreme right and counting aloud.]
LIFE: (Counting abstractly) Fifty thousand, fifty-one, sixty-five, ninety- (She goes on through the next speech.)
DEATH: Come come, Life, forget your losses. It's no fun playing with
a dull partner. I had hoped for a good game tonight, although there is
little in it for me--just a couple of suicides.
LIFE: Youth and The Girl. He is a Poet, and she a Dancer.
DEATH: A strong man and a beautiful woman. (He laughs, ironically)
Up to the same old tricks, eh? You sly thing, you think if they meet
they'll fall in love and cheat me! (Pause.) Well, suppose I consent.
What will you give?
LIFE: (Quickly) I'll give you Kaiser Wilhelm, The Czar of Russia,
George of England and old Francis Joseph--that's two to one!
LIFE: (With a gesture of anxiety) My dear Death, I wish you would
grant me a favor.
DEATH: Now that's dishonest. You're always trying to unload a lot of
monarchs on me when you know I don't want them. Why, when you
play for them you almost go to sleep and I always win. No bargaining
in kings, my dear.
DEATH: (Grumbling) A favor. A favor. Now isn't that just like a
woman? I never saw one yet who was willing to abide by the results
of a fair game.
LIFE: I'll give you a whole regiment of soldiers.
LIFE: (Earnestly) But I want these two, whether I win or lose. I really
must have them. They are geniuses--and you know how badly I am
DEATH: (With scorn) Soldiers! What do you care about soldiers?
Look at your figures again. You've been losing millions of soldiers in
Europe for the past two years--and you're much more excited about
these two rattle-pated young idiots. Your idea of a fair trade is to get
something for nothing. You love too much. With such covetness how
can you ever know the thrill of chance?
even skin deep.
YOUTH: That is true. (Going to Death) Ah, Death, I have been
seeking you for weeks.
LIFE: (Pleading) O I'll give you anything.
DEATH: Yet I am always present. Where did you seek me?
[Enter Youth, with hanging melancholy head.]
DEATH: Sshh! Too late! Here's one of them.
LIFE: (Turning) Youth! (To Death) You've tricked me. You were only
playing for time.
YOUTH: (Excitedly, with gestures) I tried poison, but just as I was
about to swallow it they snatched it from me ... I tried to shoot myself.
They cheated me; the pistol wouldn't go off.
DEATH: Well-meaning idiots!
DEATH: Come, sister. Be game. All's fair in everything but the dice.
And just think. If you win this cast the other is half won. They'll meet
then ...
YOUTH: So I came here to leap into the sea!
YOUTH: (Seeint the two and starting. To Life.) Who are you?
LIFE: Why do you wish to die?
LIFE: (Anxiously) I am Life!
YOUTH: (Hotly) As if you didn't know. Did you not give me the power
to string beautiful words into songs--did you not give me Love to sing
to and take Love away? I cannot sing any more! And yet you ask me
why I want to die! I am not a slave! Slaves live just to eat and be
clothed--you have plenty of them!
YOUTH: (Bitterly) O, I am through with you ... I want none of you!
(Turning his back and addressing Death) And who are you?
DEATH: Very good. Only hurry. Some one might come.
DEATH: (Rising with cheerful complacency) I am Death!
LIFE: (Sadly) Yes, I have plenty of them.
YOUTH: (Taken aback) Death! How different from my dream of you.
I thought you were sombre, austere; and instead, you're--if I may say
so--just a trifle commonplace.
DEATH: I'm not as young as I once was. One's figure, you know--
YOUTH: If I cannot have love to warm me, I cannot create beauty.
And if I cannot create beauty, I will not live!
LIFE: Are you sure it was Love? I think it was only Desire I gave you;
you did not seem ready for Love.
LIFE: (Delightedly) Ah!
DEATH: Look at her. A pleasing exterior, eh? And yet you wouldn't
be seeking me if you didn't know better. Alas, my boy, beauty is not
YOUTH: (Passionately) Falsehoods. Evasions. What is Love, then?
You gave me a girl who sold flowers on the street. She had hair like
gold and a body all curves and rose-white like marble. I sang my
songs for her, and the whole world listened. Then an ugly beast
came and offered her gold ... and she laughed at me--and went
away.
enough of Life? There is no place for cowards among the lofty dead!
YOUTH: O Death, forgive me! Life, farewell!
DEATH: (Laughing indulgently) That is Love, my boy. You are lucky
to find it out so young.
[He stretches out his arms and turns towards the cliff.]
LIFE: Now I know it was desire.
LIFE: (Crying out) Hold! We must play first.
YOUTH: (To Death) Why will she persist in lying?
[Youth stands as he is, with outstretched arms as they play.]
DEATH: (Gallantly) I am a sport and a gentleman and I must admit
that Life is as truthful as I am.
DEATH: (Jovially) So now it is you who are asking me to play! Come,
Life do me a favor. Give me this one and the girl shall be yours!
LIFE: Listen, Youth, and answer me. Did your sweetheart
understand your songs?
LIFE: (Excitedly) No. The game must be played. It is the law!
YOUTH: Why should she? Women do not have to understand. They
must be fragrant and beautiful--like flowers.
LIFE: And is that all?
YOUTH: (Slightly confused) I do not know many women.
[Death laughs. They go to center stage and throw the dice. Death
frowns and grumbles.]
LIFE: (Rising with a happy smile) I have won!
YOUTH: (Dropping his arms and turning slowly. Sadly.) Then I am to
live--in spite of myself. Death, I have lost you. Life, I hate you.
Without Love you are crueller than Death.
LIFE: I will show you one who understands your songs. She is
coming here.
LIFE: Soon the Girl will be here. Then you will think me beautiful.
DEATH: (Harshly) To leap into the sea, like you!
DEATH: That's the comedy of it. You probably will, you know.
LIFE: Because she is lonely--waiting for you.
YOUTH: (With a gesture of revulsion) Promises. Promises. Love
comes but one--
YOUTH: For me! But I do not know her!
LIFE: But she knows you--through your songs...
DEATH: (Scornfully) And you have been seeking me for weeks! Are
you to be fooled again by this tricky charlatan? You who have had
[He breaks off and stares as the Girl rushes in. She almost runs into
Life, then suddenly recoils.]
GIRL: Who are you?
LIFE: I am Life.
GIRL: O, Life dear, I must leave you! I cannot bear you any longer.
You are so white and so cold!
LIFE: What have you to complain of? Have I not given you Fame,
and Worship and Wealth?
GIRL: (Alarmed. Clutching him by the arm.) Oh, no. You must not.
What would the poor world do without your beautiful songs?
LIFE: Do not be afraid, my dear, I have won.
YOUTH: (Sighing) Alas!
GIRL: Why did you want to die?
GIRL: What are all these ... without Love?
DEATH: (Slyly) His sweetheart left him.
DEATH: (With a smile) What--you without Love? How about those
who stand at the stage door every evening--and send you flowers
and jewels? One of them shot himself because you stamped on his
flowers. Believe me, my dear, that is all the Love there is--
GIRL: (Drawing back coldly) His sweetheart! So he loves someone! I
don't believe you. How could any woman he loved ... when he sings
so sweetly--
GIRL: Love? No. That was Desire!
LIFE: His songs meant nothing to her.
DEATH: Bah! Desire when they seek you--Love when you seek
them.
GIRL: Nothing! (Going to Youth) O then she was not worth your love.
She was like the men who wait for me at the stage-door; she wanted
to destroy you.
GIRL: No, No. Love understands. They didn't. They wanted to buy
me in order to destroy me. That is why I stamped on their flowers.
DEATH: Such is Life, my dear young lady, Love is the destroyer
always.
DEATH: (Humorously) Ah, the young. Incurably sentimental.
YOUTH: (Impetuously) Good. I'm glad you did.
GIRL: (Startled) Why, who are you?
YOUTH: I am Youth.
GIRL: (Drawing back) Youth, the Poet? You? O I know all your
songs by heart. I have kissed every line. Always, when I dance, I try
to dance them. (Looking around fearfully) But why are you here?
DEATH: (Grimly) He came to throw himself into the sea!
YOUTH: (Bitterly) You are right. It is all a myth--Life, Love,
Happiness. I must idealize someone, something--and then the
bubble bursts and I am alone. No. If she could not understand, no
one could understand.
GIRL: (Eagerly) O how wrong you are! I understand. Don't you
believe me? I have danced all you have sung. Do you remember
"The Bird Calls?"
[She dances. Youth watches with astonishment and growing delight.]
YOUTH: How beautiful! You do understand--you do! Wings flash and
soar when you dance! You skim the sea gloriously, lifting your
quivering feathery breast against the sunny wind. Dance again for
me. Dance my "Cloud Flight!"
GIRL: The loveliest of all! (Remembering sadly) But I can never
dance for you anymore. I came here to die!
DEATH: And you'd forgotten it already! O you're all alike, you
suicides. Life's shallowest little deceit fools you again--though you
have seen through her and know her for what she is.
GIRL: (Hesitating) But I have found Youth.
YOUTH: (Swiftly) Yes, and Youth has found Love--real Love at last.
Love that burns like fire and flowers like the trees. You shall not die.
(To Death) And I will fight you for her! Love is stronger than Death!
Life offers you many things--I but one. Come closer, tired heart, and
hold out your weary hands. See! What a pearl I offer--to kings and
beggars alike. Come--I will give you peace!
GIRL: (Spurning him) Peace? Do you think I want peace--I, a dancer,
a child of the whirling winds? Do you think I would be blind to the
sunlight, deaf to Youth's music--to my sweet applause, dumb to
laughter? All this joy that is in me--scattered in darkness? Dust in my
hair--in my eyes--on my dancing feet? (Hesitating) And yet--and yet
Life is so cruel!
YOUTH: (Going to her) My dearest. We will never leave one another.
LIFE: She is mine!
DEATH: (Sardonically) Haven't you forgotten something? The game!
DEATH: Than Life, you mean. Think of the great lovers of the world-Paola and Francesca, Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde. I, I
claimed them all. Who are you to set yourself up against such august
prcedents? (To the Girl) You think he loves you. It is not you he
loves, but your dancing of his songs. He is a Poet--therefore he loves
only himself. And his sweetheart, for lack of whom he was going to
die. See! He has already forgotten her! (Slowly) As you will one day
be forgotten.
LIFE: (To Girl) Why ask too much of me? I can only give happiness
for a moment--but it is real happiness--Love, Creation, Unity with the
tremendous rhythm of the universe. I can't promise it will endure. I
won't say you will not some day be forgotten. What if it is himself he
loves in you? That, too, is Love.
GIRL: To be supremely happy for a moment--an hour--that is worth
living for!
DEATH: Life offers you many things--I but one. She pours out the
sunshine before you to make you glad; she sends the winter to chill
your heart. She gives you Love and Desire--and takes them away.
She brings you warm quietness--and kills it with hunger and anxiety.
LIFE: It is half-won. She too has found love.
DEATH: Ah! But in willing to die she laid her life on the knees of the
Fates. So we must play for her. It is the law.
LIFE: O I am not afraid to play. This time I have you, Death.
DEATH: Have me! Ho, Ho. Nay, Life. I am cleverer than you. On this
game hangs the doom of both!
LIFE: (Astonished) Of both? (Furiously) You lie, Death! I have
already won Youth, he cannot die.
DEATH: (Laughing) Ho. Ho. Youth cannot die, you say. True. But the
Girl dies if I win; isn't that so? (Life nods.) Well, and if she dies, what
then? He loves her, yet he cannot follow. Nay, he shall live--forever
mute, forever regretting his lost love, until you yourself will beg me to
take him!
LIFE: (Falling on her knees) O Death, I beg of you-DEATH: Ho. Ho. Life on her knees to Death. No, sister. I couldn't
help you if I would. It is the law. Let us play.
LIFE: (Resigned) It is the law.
[They go to the center of stage and play.]
LIFE: (Joyously) O I have won again!
DEATH: (Blackly, hurling the dice to the ground) Yes, curse the luck!
But some day we'll play for those two again--and then it will be my
turn.
and I think I'd feel better if I told you; whenever I threw a good
combination, I--juggled the dice!
DEATH: (Nodding) I'm not surprised. Heavens, aren't women
unscrupulous! And yet they call me unfair ... Well, I suppose I've got
to keep an eye on you.
LIFE: I warn you I will stop at nothing. By the way, what's the game
tomorrow night?
DEATH: A Plague. And in that game, I regret to say you haven't a
chance in the world.
LIFE: Don't forget I have Science to help me.
YOUTH: Yes. But we will have lived. Until then, Death, you are
Powerless. I fear you not, and I will guard her from you.
DEATH: Science, Bah! A fool's toy! I sweep them all together in my
net--the men of learning and the ones they try to cure.
DEATH: (Shrugging) Geniuses! Geniuses!
LIFE: But remember that the sun, the blessed healing sun still rises
every morning.
GIRL: (To Youth) How brave--how strong--how beautiful is my lover!
[They go offstage with their arms about each other.]
DEATH: Well, it was a good game after all. You see, that's the
difference between you and me; you play to win, and I play for the
fun of the thing. (He laughs.) But tell me, Life; why is it you make
such a fuss over dreamers and care so little for soldiers?
DEATH: (Irritated) Oh, don't remind me of the sun!
[He goes.]
LIFE: (Beginning to count her losses again) Two hundred thousand,
seventy-five, three hundred and ten. (Looking up.) I must never let
him know how much I mind losing soldiers. They are the flower of
youth--there are dreamers among them...
LIFE: O, soldiers don't matter one way or the other to me; but some
day the dreamers will chain you to the earth, and I will have the
game all my way.
CURTAIN
DEATH: That remains to be seen. But how about kings?
LIFE: Kings are my enemies. Do you remember how careless I was
during the French Revolution? I've always had it on my conscience,
(The Batter takes his eye off the ball as it pounds into the
Catcher’s mitt)
"PITCH AND CATCH"
A Short Play by Bruce Kane
UMPIRE: Steeee-rike one.
SETTING: Home plate on a baseball field.
BATTER: He was talkin’ to me during the pitch.
CHARACTERS:
CATCHER
BATTER
UMPIRE
BATTER#2
UMPIRE: He was talking before the pitch. You were talking during
the pitch.
BATTER: Well, I ain’t ignorant.
CATCHER: You aren’t ignorant.
Lights up on CATCHER and UMPIRE standing behind home plate.
The Catcher pounds his mitt as the BATTER enters and steps into
the batter’s box.
CATCHER: My guy’s a little wild today. Be careful on anything
inside.
BATTER: I don’t need no help from you.
CATCHER: You don’t need any help from me.
BATTER: That’s what I said.
CATCHER: No, you said “I don’t need no help.” Correct English
would be “I don’t need any help.”
UMPIRE: Are you ready to hit?
BATTER: You bet your [butt] I am.
(He steps up to hit. The Catcher and Umpire prepare for the next
pitch.)
CATCHER: You just sound ignorant.
BATTER: Just because I speak good ole Americ…
(The batter takes his eye off the ball just long enough…)
UMPIRE: Steee-rike two.
BATTER: What are you my English teacher or somethin’?
BATTER: That’s no fair.
UMPIRE: What say we play some baseball?
CATCHER: That’s not fair.
(The three of them prepare for the pitch)
BATTER: Will you shut up?
CATCHER: It’s not correct pronunciation to drop the “g” at the end
of a gerund. It makes you sound ignorant.
CATCHER: I’m just to trying to help.
BATTER: Hey, who you callin’ ignorant?
BATTER: Well, I don’t need no help.
CATCHER: Any help. “I don’t need any help.
BATTER: That’s right… I don’t need no help. (They all set up for the
next pitch) You just tell your boy to bring it on.
BATTER: (turns to Umpire) If you don’t tell him to shut the…
(End)
CATCHER: Bring what on? You really need to be more precise in
your use of pronouns. When not preceded by a noun, ”it“ loses all
meaning.
THE BEGGAR AND THE KING
THE KING: If that is so, then why do I hear his voice?
a play in one-act
by Winthrop Parkhurst
The following one-act play is reprinted from The Atlantic Book of Modern Plays. Ed. Sterling
Andrus Leonard. Boston: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1921. It is now in the public domain and may
therefore be performed without royalties.
CHARACTERS
THE KING OF A GREAT COUNTRY
HIS SERVANT
A BEGGAR
THE SERVANT: O king, he has been sent away many times, yet each
time that he is sent away he returns again, crying louder than he did
before.
THE KING: He is very unwise to annoy me on such a warm day. He must
be punished for his impudence. Use the lash on him.
THE SERVANT: O king, it has been done.
THE KING: Then bring out the spears.
THE SERVANT: O king, the guards have already bloodied their swords
many times driving him away from the palace gates. But it is of no avail.
[A chamber in the palace overlooks a courtyard. The season is
midsummer. The windows of the palace are open, and from a distance
there comes the sound of a man's voice crying for bread.]
THE KING: Then bind him and gag him if necessary. If need be cut out
his tongue. I do not like the sound of the fellow's voice. It annoys me very
much.
[THE KING sits in a golden chair. A golden crown is on his head, and he
holds in his hand a sceptre which is also of gold. A SERVANT stands by
his side, fanning him with an enormous fan of peacock feathers.]
THE SERVANT: O king, thy orders were obeyed even yesterday.
THE BEGGAR: (outside) Bread. Bread. Bread. Give me some bread.
THE KING: (languidly) Who is that crying in the street for bread?
THE SERVANT: (fanning) O king, it is a beggar.
THE KING: Why does he cry for bread?
THE SERVANT: O king, he cries for bread in order that he may fill his
belly.
THE KING: I do not like the sound of his voice. It annoys me very much.
Send him away.
THE SERVANT: (bowing) O king, he has been sent away.
THE KING: (frowning) No. That cannot be. A beggar cannot cry for bread
who has no tongue.
THE SERVANT: Behold he can--if he has grown another.
THE KING: What! Why, men are not given more than one tongue in a
lifetime. To have more than one tongue is treason.
THE SERVANT: If it is treason to have more than one tongue, O king,
then is this beggar surely guilty of treason.
THE KING: (pompously) The punishment for treason is death. See to it
that the fellow is slain. And do not fan me so languidly. I am very warm.
THE SERVANT: (fanning more rapidly) Behold, O great and illustrious
king, all thy commands were obeyed even yesterday.
THE KING: How! Do not jest with thy king.
THE BEGGAR: (outside) Bread. Bread. Give me some bread.
THE SERVANT: If I jest, then there is truth in a jest. Even yesterday, O
king, as I have told thee, the beggar which thou now hearest crying aloud
in the street was slain by thy soldiers with a sword.
THE KING: Ah! He is crying out again. His voice seems to me louder than
it was before.
THE SERVANT: Hunger is as food to the lungs, O king.
THE KING: Do ghosts eat bread? Forsooth, men who have been slain
with a sword do not go about in the streets crying for a piece of bread.
THE KING: His lungs I will wager are well fed. Ha, ha!
THE SERVANT: Forsooth, they do if they are fashioned as this beggar.
THE SERVANT: But alas! his stomach is quite empty.
THE KING: Why, he is but a man. Surely he cannot have more than one
life in a lifetime.
THE KING: That is not my business.
THE SERVANT: Listen to a tale, O king, which happened yesterday.
THE SERVANT: Should I not perhaps fling him a crust from the window?
THE KING: I am listening.
THE KING: No! To feed a beggar is always foolish. Every crumb that is
given to a beggar is an evil seed from which springs another fellow like
him.
THE SERVANT: Thy soldiers smote this beggar for crying aloud in the
streets for bread, but his wounds are already healed. They cut out his
tongue, but he immediately grew another. They slew him, yet he is now
alive.
THE BEGGAR: (outside) Bread. Bread. Give me some bread.
THE KING: Ah! that is a tale which I cannot understand at all.
THE SERVANT: O king, it may be well.
THE KING: I cannot understand what thou sayest, either.
THE SERVANT: O king, that may be well also.
THE KING: Thou art speaking now in riddles. I do not like riddles. They
confuse my brain.
THE SERVANT: Behold, O king, if I speak in riddles it is because a riddle
has come to pass.
[THE BEGGAR'S voice suddenly cries out loudly.]
THE SERVANT: He seems very hungry, O king.
THE KING: Yes. So I should judge.
THE SERVANT: If thou wilt not let me fling, him a piece of bread thine
ears must pay the debts of thy hand.
THE KING: A king can have no debts.
THE SERVANT: That is true, O king. Even so, the noise of this fellow's
begging must annoy thee greatly.
THE KING: It does.
THE SERVANT: Doubtless he craves only a small crust from thy table
and he would be content.
THE KING: Yea, doubtless he craves only to be a king and he would be
very happy indeed.
learning.
THE SERVANT: Do not be hard, O king. Thou art ever wise and just. This
fellow is exceedingly hungry. Dost thou not command me to fling him just
one small crust from the window?
THE KING: Therefore, some other remedy must be found.
THE KING: My commands I have already given thee. See that the beggar
is driven away.
THE SERVANT: But alas! O king, if he is driven away he will return again
even as he did before.
THE KING: Then see to it that he is slain. I cannot be annoyed with the
sound of his voice.
THE SERVANT: But alas! O great and illustrious king, if he is slain he will
come to life again even as he did before.
THE KING: Ah! that is true. But his voice troubles me. I do not like to hear
it.
THE SERVANT: His lungs are fattened with hunger. Of a truth they are
quite strong.
THE KING: Well, propose a remedy to weaken them.
THE SERVANT: A remedy, O king?
[He stops fanning.]
THE KING: That is what I said. A remedy--and do not stop fanning me. I
am exceedingly warm.
THE SERVANT: (fanning vigorously) A crust of bread, O king, dropped
from yonder window--forsooth that might prove a remedy.
THE KING: (angrily) I have said I will not give him a crust of bread. If I
gave him a crust to-day he would be just as hungry again to-morrow, and
my troubles would be as great as before.
THE SERVANT: That is true, O king. Thy mind is surely filled with great
THE SERVANT: O king, the words of thy illustrious mouth are as very
meat-balls of wisdom.
THE KING: (musing) Now let me consider. Thou sayest he does not
suffer pain-THE SERVANT: Therefore he cannot be tortured.
THE KING: And he will not die-THE SERVANT: Therefore it is useless to kill him.
THE KING: Now let me consider. I must think of some other way.
THE SERVANT: Perhaps a small crust of bread, O king-THE KING: Ha! I have it. I have it. I myself will order him to stop.
THE SERVANT: (horrified) O king!
THE KING: Send the beggar here.
THE SERVANT: O king!
THE KING: Ha! I rather fancy the fellow will stop his noise when the king
commands him to. Ha, ha, ha!
THE SERVANT: O king, thou wilt not have a beggar brought into thy royal
chamber!
THE KING: (pleased with his idea) Yea. Go outside and tell this fellow
that the king desires his presence.
THE SERVANT: O great and illustrious king, thou wilt surely not do this
thing. Thou wilt surely not soil thy royal eyes by looking on such a filthy
creature. Thou wilt surely not contaminate thy lips by speaking to a
common beggar who cries aloud in the streets for bread.
ears.
THE KING: My ears have been soiled too much already. Therefore go
now and do as I have commanded thee.
THE KING: (to THE SERVANT) Ha! An excellent flower of speech. Pin it
in thy buttonhole. (To THE BEGGAR) Thine ears, I see, are in need of a
bath even more than thy body. I said, Do not beg any more.
THE SERVANT: O great and illustrious king, thou wilt surely not-THE BEGGAR: I--I do not understand.
THE KING: (roaring at him) I said, Go! (THE SERVANT, abashed, goes
out.) Forsooth, I fancy the fellow will stop his bawling when I order him to.
Forsooth, I fancy he will be pretty well frightened when he hears that the
king desires his presence. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
THE KING: (making a trumpet of his hands and shouting). DO NOT BEG
ANY MORE.
THE BEGGAR: I--I do not understand.
THE SERVANT: (returning) O king, here is the beggar.
THE KING: Heavens! He is deafer than a stone wall.
[A shambling creature hung in filthy rags follows THE SERVANT slowly
into the royal chamber.]
THE KING: Ha! A magnificent sight, to be sure. Art thou the beggar who
has been crying aloud in the streets for bread?
THE SERVANT: O king, he cannot be deaf, for he understood me quite
easily when I spoke to him in the street.
THE KING: (to THE BEGGAR) Art thou deaf? Canst thou hear what I am
saying to thee now?
THE BEGGAR: (in a faint voice, after a slight pause) Art thou the king?
THE BEGGAR: Alas! I can hear every word perfectly.
THE KING: I am the king.
THE KING: Fft! The impudence. Thy tongue shall be cut out for this.
THE SERVANT: (aside to THE BEGGAR) It is not proper for a beggar to
ask a question of a king. Speak only as thou art spoken to.
THE SERVANT: O king, to cut out his tongue is useless, for he will grow
another.
THE KING: (to THE SERVANT) Do thou likewise. (To THE BEGGAR) I
have ordered thee here to speak to thee concerning a very grave matter.
Thou art the beggar, I understand, who often cries aloud in the streets for
bread. Now, the complaint of thy voice annoys me greatly. Therefore, do
not beg any more.
THE KING: No matter. It shall be cut out anyway. (To THE BEGGAR) I
have ordered thee not to beg any more in the streets. What meanest thou
by saying thou dost not understand?
THE BEGGAR: (faintly) I--I do not understand.
THE BEGGAR: The words of thy mouth I can hear perfectly. But their
noise is only a foolish tinkling in my ears.
THE KING: I said, do not beg any more.
THE BEGGAR: I--I do not understand.
THE SERVANT: (aside to THE BEGGAR) The king has commanded thee
not to beg for bread any more. The noise of thy voice is as garbage in his
THE KING: Fft! Only a--! A lash will tinkle thy hide for thee if thou dost not
cure thy tongue of impudence. I, thy king, have ordered thee not to beg
any more in the streets for bread. Signify, therefore, that thou wilt obey
the orders of thy king by quickly touching thy forehead thrice to the floor.
THE BEGGAR: That is impossible.
THE SERVANT: I said, it is not wise to keep the king waiting.
THE SERVANT: (aside to THE BEGGAR) Come. It is not safe to tempt
the patience of the king too long. His patience is truly great, but he loses it
most wondrous quickly.
[THE BEGGAR does not move.]
THE KING: Come, now: I have ordered thee to touch thy forehead to the
floor.
THE BEGGAR: O king, thou hast commanded me not to beg in the
streets for bread, for the noise of my voice offends thee. Now therefore do
I likewise command thee to remove thy crown from thy forehead and
throw it from yonder window into the street. For when thou hast thrown
thy crown into the street, then will I no longer be obliged to beg.
THE SERVANT: (nudging him) And quickly.
THE KING: Well? (A pause.) Well? (In a rage) WELL?
THE BEGGAR: Wherefore should I touch my forehead to the floor?
THE KING: In order to seal thy promise to thy king.
THE BEGGAR: But I have made no promise. Neither have I any king.
THE KING: Ho! He has made no promise. Neither has he any king. Ha,
ha, ha. I have commanded thee not to beg any more, for the sound of thy
voice is grievous unto my ears. Touch thy forehead now to the floor, as I
have commanded thee, and thou shall go from this palace a free man.
Refuse, and thou wilt be sorry before an hour that thy father ever came
within twenty paces of thy mother.
THE KING: Fft! Thou commandest me! Thou, a beggar from the streets,
commandest me, a king, to remove my crown from my forehead and
throw it from yonder window into the street!
THE BEGGAR: That is what I said.
THE KING. Why, dost thou not know I can have thee slain for such
words?
THE BEGGAR: No. Thou canst not have me slain. The spears of thy
soldiers are as straws against my body.
THE BEGGAR: I have ever lamented that he did. For to be born into this
world a beggar is a more unhappy thing than any that I know--unless it is
to be born a king.
THE KING: Ha! We shall see if they are. We shall see!
THE KING: Fft! Thy tongue of a truth is too lively for thy health. Come,
now, touch thy forehead thrice to the floor and promise solemnly that thou
wilt never beg in the streets again. And hurry!
THE BEGGAR: I have required thee to remove thy crown from thy
forehead. If so be thou wilt throw it from yonder window into the street, my
voice will cease to annoy thee any more. But if thou refuse, then thou wilt
wish thou hadst never had any crown at all. For thy days will be filled with
a terrible boding and thy nights will be full of horrors, even as a ship is full
of rats.
THE SERVANT: (aside) It is wise to do as thy king commands thee. His
patience is near an end.
THE KING: Do not be afraid to soil the floor with thy forehead. I will
graciously forgive thee for that.
THE SERVANT: O king, it is indeed true. It is even as he has told thee.
THE KING: Why, this is insolence. This is treason!
THE BEGGAR: Wilt thou throw thy crown from yonder window?
[THE BEGGAR stands motionless.]
THE KING: Why, this is high treason!
THE BEGGAR: I ask thee, wilt thou throw thy crown from yonder window?
THE SERVANT: (aside to THE KING) Perhaps it were wise to humor him,
O king. After thou hast thrown thy crown away I can go outside and bring
it to thee again.
upon a large drum and thy head will be my drumstick. I will not do these
things now. But one day I will do them. Therefore, when my voice sounds
again in thine ears, begging for bread, remember what I have told thee.
Remember, O king, and be afraid!
THE BEGGAR: Well? Well? (He points to the window.) Well?
[He walks out. THE SERVANT, struck dumb, stares after him. THE KING
sits in his chair, dazed.]
THE KING: No! I will not throw my crown from that window--no, nor from
any other window. What! Shall I obey the orders of a beggar? Never!
THE KING: (suddenly collecting his wits) After him! After him! He must not
be allowed to escape! After him!
THE BEGGAR: (preparing to leave) Truly, that is spoken like a king. Thou
art a king, so thou wouldst prefer to lose thy head than that silly circle of
gold that so foolishly sits upon it. But it is well. Thou art a king. Thou
couldst not prefer otherwise.
THE SERVANT: (faltering) O king--I cannot seem to move.
[He walks calmly toward the door.]
THE SERVANT: O king--I cannot seem to call them.
THE KING: (to THE SERVANT) Stop him! Seize him! Does he think to get
off so easily with his impudence!
THE KING: How! Art thou dumb? Ah!
THE KING: Quick, then. Call the guards. He must be caught and put in
chains. Quick, I say. Call the guards!
[THE BEGGAR'S voice is heard outside.]
THE BEGGAR: (coolly) One of thy servants cannot stop me. Neither can
ten thousand of them do me any harm. I am stronger than a mountain. I
am stronger than the sea!
THE BEGGAR: Bread. Bread. Give me some bread.
THE KING: Ha! We will see about that, we will see about that. (To THE
SERVANT) Hold him, I say. Call the guards. He shall be put in chains.
THE KING: Ah. [He turns toward the window, half-frightened, and then,
almost instinctively, raises his hands toward his crown, and seems on the
point of tossing it out the window. But with an oath he replaces it and
presses it firmly on his head.] How! Am I afraid of a beggar!
THE BEGGAR: My strength is greater than a mountain and my words are
more fearful than a hurricane. This servant of thine cannot even touch
me. With one breath of my mouth I can blow over this whole palace.
THE BEGGAR: (continuing outside) Bread. Bread. Give me some bread.
THE KING: Dost thou hear the impudence he is offering me? Why dost
thou not seize him? What is the matter with thee? Why dost thou not call
the guards?
THE BEGGAR: I will not harm thee now. I will only cry aloud in the streets
for bread wherewith to fill my belly. But one day I will not be so kind to
thee. On that day my mouth will be filled with a rushing wind and my arms
will become as strong as steel rods, and I will blow over this palace, and
all the bones in thy foolish body I will snap between my fingers. I will beat
THE KING: (with terrible anger) Close that window!
[THE SERVANT stands stupidly, and the voice of THE BEGGAR grows
louder as the curtain falls.]
CURTAIN
HE SAID AND SHE SAID
a play in one-act
by Alice Gerstenberg
The following one-act play is reprinted from Ten One-Act Plays.
Alice Gerstenberg. New York: Brentano's, 1922. It is now in the
public domain and may therefore be performed without royalties.
CHARACTERS
DIANA CHESBROUGH, a society girl
ENID HALDEMAN, her friend
FELIX Haldeman, her husband
MRS. CYRUS PACKARD, their friend
ENID: Oh, there are a few left-overs floating around but Diana
doesn't like them. If she can't get the best male company she prefers
female.
FELIX: Diana's a peach! She should have married one of the boys
before they all went over. Poor Aubrey Laurence was madly in love
with her.
ENID: Hurry up, there's soot on your cheek. [She taps it
affectionately.]
FELIX: All right, if I have to dine with three women I'd better look
my best.
[Living-room at the Haldemans. Discovered Enid setting the room to
rights. Enter in hat and coat and jingling a bunch of house keys Felix
Haldeman. He kisses Enid affectionately as if it were a daily habit,
and then tosses down the evening paper.]
ENID: (Admiringly) Yes, my dear Cock of the Walk.
FELIX: Hello, dear.
[Enid is about to glance at the paper but is interrupted by the breezy
entrance of Mrs. Packard.]
ENID: Felix, I asked Diana and Mrs. Packard over for dinner. You'd
better hurry and wash up a bit.
FELIX: What? Am I to be the only man again?
ENID: Can't help it, darling. Mr. Packard's in Washington and all of
Diana's suitors are in the trenches.
FELIX: There must be some old greybeard left somewhere to invite
for Diana.
FELIX: There're the evening papers. We gained three miles again.
[Exit down left.]
MRS. PACKARD: My dear, your maid told me to come right in.
ENID: Oh, Mrs. Packard, I'm so glad you could come on such short
notice.
MRS. PACKARD: I jumped at the invitation. It's so lonesome with
John away. How lucky you are to have your husband at home.
ENID: Thanks to his business, the Government prefers him here.
Take off your things.
MRS. PACKARD: I'm a little early but I took advantage of the
chance to ride this way in Mrs. Morgan's car. Do you like Mrs.
Morgan?
ENID: Not forgive you for protecting me?
ENID: Why, yes, don't you?
MRS. PACKARD: That's true, you must protect yourself. It is my
duty to tell you.
MRS. PACKARD: I don't think you ought to like her.
ENID: What is it? You have me quite scared.
ENID: Why not?
MRS. PACKARD: If she tells me a thing like that, of course, she
will tell everyone else. By this time, no doubt, it's all over town.
MRS. PACKARD: She has a long, bad tongue.
ENID: How dreadful--what have I done-ENID: Talks about people-MRS. PACKARD: (Raises her eyebrows) Does she? You ought to
hear her--but then you ought not to hear her.
MRS. PACKARD: It isn't what you've done--it's about Diana
Chesbrough.
ENID: She's coming tonight.
ENID: About me?
MRS. PACKARD: Is she? Your invitation?
MRS. PACKARD: Now, there, my dear, I have come for a jolly little
dinner-party and I'm not going to gossip.
ENID: Still, if she said anything against me, I ought to protect
myself--
ENID: Why, yes-MRS. PACKARD: Are you sure?
ENID: (A bit impatiently) Of course, I'm sure.
MRS. PACKARD: That's just it, that's what I thought--and when she
said--Oh, no, why should I tell you-ENID: Why shouldn't you tell me?
MRS. PACKARD: Well-- (She raises her shoulders and eyebrows.)
ENID: But in what way can gossip couple my name with Diana's?
She is one of my best friends.
MRS. PACKARD: Yes, why shouldn't I? After all, I'm one of your
best friends and you ought to know--
MRS. PACKARD: Oh, is she?
ENID: Certainly, I ought to know--
ENID: (Stoutly) I am quite sure she is.
MRS. PACKARD: But you may never forgive me--
MRS. PACKARD: Maybe she is--still, they wonder why Diana
didn't marry one of the boys before they went off to war.
ENID: Blind, I?
MRS. PACKARD: You're with each other a great deal aren't you?
ENID: Why should she have-ENID: Yes-MRS. PACKARD: Yes, why should she have really--still--anyone as
attractive as Diana--she had plenty of chances, didn't she?
MRS. PACKARD: And your husband--
ENID: Oh, yes.
ENID: Ah, that's what you mean--
MRS. PACKARD: That's what they say. All nice men, too, and one
or two real catches--don't you think it's strange Diana didn't marry
one of them?
MRS. PACKARD: Oh, my poor dear, that's what they say--
ENID: Yes, I do think it's strange.
MRS. PACKARD: That she and--oh, no, my dear, of course I don't
believe it, but--
ENID: Just what do they say?
MRS. PACKARD: (Pouncingly) There! Of course you do! I said it.
But why do you think she didn't?
ENID: (Worried) But just in exact words what do they say--
ENID: I don't know.
MRS. PACKARD: Hasn't he ever admired her in your presence--
MRS. PACKARD: What does she say?
ENID: Yes--
ENID: I think she--
MRS. PACKARD: What does he say--
MRS. PACKARD: Exactly! It's just what everyone is saying. And
everybody feels so sorry for you.
ENID: Oh, that she's a peach and popular and all the men like her
and many of them want to marry her and--
ENID: Sorry for me?
MRS. PACKARD: There you are! That's just it! They said so and
Mrs. Morgan told me that Diana refused the other men because--well
she said because-- (Sees Diana entering, changes the subject
quickly.) Oh, Diana, you dear, sweet thing, good evening.
MRS. PACKARD: My dear, you get all the sympathy.
ENID: What for?
MRS. PACKARD: Is it possible you have been so blind?
DIANA: (Enters back center, gay, happy, pretty, unconsciously
friendly) Hello, Mrs. Packard. Hello, Enid, old top. (Kisses Enid.)
I'm early, because I came straight up from town after dressing at the
club. Canteen work all day. How's everybody?
MRS. PACKARD: You haven't heard?
ENID: I've been nursing at the hospital all afternoon.
DIANA: No, but I should certainly like to know--
DIANA: Isn't Enid a trump, doing the home nursing and releasing
someone else to get the glory over there? I'd have gone over there
myself--
MRS. PACKARD: Of course you would; any young girl like you-but my dear, do you really think you should come to this house--
MRS. PACKARD: (Pouncingly) Why didn't you?
DIANA: Against the law. I have relatives in the trenches. Oh, I'd
love the romance of being there. Enid, get the letter from your
brother, won't you, and read it to Mrs. Packard? He gives such
unusually interesting descriptions--
DIANA: Come to this house? Why, Enid and I went to school
together, she is one of my oldest and best friends-MRS. PACKARD: Best--did you say?
DIANA: You doubt it?
MRS. PACKARD: After what she said?
ENID: Yes, it's most interesting. Excuse me a moment, it's in my
desk upstairs.
DIANA: She said something to make you doubt her friendship to
me--surely you are mistaken--
[Exit Enid back center.]
MRS. PACKARD: (With a backward glance to see if Enid is out of
hearing) My dear Miss Chesbrough, pardon me for seeming to
presume, but I am only trying to save you. Are you aware of what
people are saying about you?
MRS. PACKARD: My dear girl, I have eyes and ears--I can see and
hear-DIANA: What did Enid say?
DIANA: Saying about me?
MRS. PACKARD: She said she wished you had married one of the
boys before they went to war--
MRS. PACKARD: Of course they wouldn't say it to you--
DIANA: Oh, that--
DIANA: What wouldn't they say?
MRS. PACKARD: You admit it! And still you come here--that is
what people say--
MRS. PACKARD: It is so much easier to flatter than to say
disagreeable things-DIANA: People are saying disagreeable things about me?
DIANA: What do I admit? I don't follow your reasoning--I don't see-
MRS. PACKARD: Of course you don't see--love is always blind.
MRS. PACKARD: You have insulted me!
DIANA: Love! We haven't said a word about love-DIANA: Not more than you have insulted me!
MRS. PACKARD: Of course not, it is a delicate word to use and in
this matter it is--well, the world does not think it becoming-DIANA: (Indignantly) Mrs. Packard I do not understand your
innuendos--tell me the plain facts--what are people saying--and what
has love got to do with it?
MRS. PACKARD: (Furiously) Miss Chesbrough, you will suffer for
this! I tell you something in all friendliness of spirit to protect you
from the slanders of the world and then you reward me by-DIANA: You listen to idle tounges and then you come and rob me of
my happiness--by putting poison into my mind--
MRS. PACKARD: Mr. Haldeman.
DIANA: (Laughs) Felix?
MRS. PACKARD: And you!
DIANA: I?
MRS. PACKARD: They couple your names together.
DIANA: (Furiously) They say that Felix and I--it is a lie-MRS. PACKARD: It doesn't make any difference if it is a lie--the
point is what people say--
MRS. PACKARD: I was telling you the truth, but people do not
thank you for telling them the truth-DIANA: I am the one who knows what the truth is! I know that Enid
and I are friends and that Enid and Felix and I are friends and that is
all. Felix adores Enid, he would never care for any other woman-MRS. PACKARD: Oh, wouldn't he? Does the world know more
than Mrs. Haldeman herself? It does not! Just a few moments ago in
this very room she told me herself that she wished you had married
because she knows that Felix is in love with you--she pretends to be
your friend but in her heart she hates you-DIANA: It's not true!
DIANA: The people who say such things have rotten little minds that
haven't enough brains to entertain themselves-MRS. PACKARD: (Shocked) My dear Miss Chesbrough-DIANA: And you're just the same repeating such slander-MRS. PACKARD: (Angrily) You insinuate that I am one of the-DIANA: I do.
MRS. PACKARD: It is not pleasant to argue with you, Miss
Chesbrough. I shall find my hostess and make my excuses and not
stay to dinner-- (Exit up center.)
DIANA: (Goes as if to follow her) If I have been too utterly rude, I
humbly apologize but I cannot allow you to circulate such
outrageous--
FELIX: (Enters from down left) Hello, Diana, when did you get
here? Want to help me mix the cocktails? (Goes to side table and
begins to mix drinks.)
DIANA: You know I love Enid--
DIANA: Felix, a terrible thing has happened--they talk about us!
DIANA: I wouldn't hurt her for worlds--
FELIX: Who is they and who is us?
FELIX: No, you trump!
DIANA: People are talking about you and me--
DIANA: So do you love her more than any one else--don't you?
FELIX: (Mixing cocktail) Why, what have we done? Do you like a
drop of orange bitters?
FELIX: Of course--but--
FELIX: Why, you've grown up together--
DIANA: (Horrified) Don't say but-DIANA: You're not taking it seriously.
FELIX: But why-FELIX: But what is there-DIANA: Why did you say "but"-DIANA: That's just it--what is there--if there really were something-(She watches him anxiously.) It's most embarrassing for me--I don't
know how to say it to you--
FELIX: Did I say "but"? I don't know, what was I saying-DIANA: You said of course--BUT--
FELIX: My dear Diana, you can say anything to me--haven't I
proved myself a real friend--
FELIX: I don't remember--you have me all confused--
DIANA: But if what they say is really--true--
DIANA: You don't think I'm in love with you, do you?
FELIX: Don't you know whether it's true or not--
FELIX: Great Scott, do they say you are in love with me?
DIANA: I thought I did--but after she said it I began to wonder--
DIANA: You never have thought have you--
FELIX: Wonder what?
FELIX: I'm not so conceited to think I could--
DIANA: (Hesitates) Oh--
DIANA: Ah, then--but--
FELIX: Out with it!
FELIX: Well, now, what, but--
DIANA: Are you in love with me?
DIANA: But Enid believes it!
FELIX: (Shouts) No!
FELIX: Nonsense!
DIANA: Thank goodness! But--
DIANA: She said so--
FELIX: What--
FELIX: What "she" said so?
DIANA: That's what they say--
DIANA: Mrs. Packard said they all say it.
FELIX: That I am in love with you--
FELIX: How do they know?
DIANA: And that I am in love with you--
DIANA: They don't, but they think they do so it amounts to the same
thing.
FELIX: And-FELIX: But Enid can't believe it-DIANA: Exactly!
DIANA: But there's proof that she does believe it-FELIX: Holy smokes!
FELIX: It's too absurd-DIANA: But it's not true!
FELIX: (Shouts) No!
DIANA: Mrs. Packard said that Enid said that you said you were in
love with me or something like that--and that Enid hates me--
DIANA: But they say it's true!
FELIX: That's not true, I know she likes you--
FELIX: And what they say--
DIANA: But Mrs. Packard wouldn't dare say anything--
DIANA: Amounts to the same thing--
FELIX: She said Enid hates you--
FELIX: What can we do?
DIANA: That's what I'm asking you--
DIANA: Perhaps Enid does--perhaps she is jealous over nothing at
all--perhaps she has been imagining things--perhaps she does hate
me--perhaps she too has been saying things--making it seem as if--
FELIX: Go straight to Enid--
[She stops as Enid enters followed by Mrs. Packard center.]
ENID: Diana, Mrs. Packard says you insulted her and that she feels
she cannot stay for dinner--
DIANA: But I do--I leave with my heart black against you for
listening to what she said--
DIANA: I apologized to Mrs. Packard but she would not accept my--
MRS. PACKARD: What did I say?
MRS. PACKARD: Ah, you do admit you insulted me--
DIANA: You said that Felix and I were in love with each other and
you insinuated that--
DIANA: Only after you insulted me!
MRS. PACKARD: I never said such a thing in all my life!
MRS. PACKARD: You hear, Mrs. Haldeman? It is just as I said, she
accused me of insulting her when I was trying only to be kind and
giver her a little motherly advice-DIANA: Mrs. Packard took it upon herself to repeat some things that
people are saying--things that are manifestly untrue-ENID: Whether they are true or not--it is highly unpleasant for me to
have this altercation in my house--
DIANA: Mrs. Packard! Why just a few moments ago in this very
room you-MRS. PACKARD: I never said such a thing in all my life!
DIANA: Can you look me straight in the eyes and tell me you never
said it?
MRS. PACKARD: I never said it! never, never, never!
DIANA: I can tell by your voice that you are willing to believe that
woman-MRS. PACKARD: Mrs. Haldeman, I resent being called that
woman-DIANA: I don't care what you resent--you've come in and spoilt a
beautiful friendship I've had all my life and I don't care what I call
you--
DIANA: Didn't you tell me that you have eyes and ears and that you
can see and hear--and that everybody was saying-MRS. PACKARD: But what everybody else says isn't what I say!
DIANA: Didn't you tell me that Felix was in love with me-MRS. PACKARD: I didn't know that! She told me that! (Turns to
Enid.)
ENID: But in my house--my guests-ENID: I never told you that!
DIANA: Don't worry--I shall not be your guest another moment--I'm
going-- (Starts.)
ENID: No, Diana, I can't let you leave in--anger.
MRS. PACKARD: Why, my dear, you did! In this very room, a few
moments ago--
ENID: I never said such a thing in all my life--and how can you
imagine-MRS. PACKARD: I imagine nothing! I know what I see and what I
hear and you certainly told me that you ought to know all I had heard
so you could protect yourself. So I told you in a friendly way, trying
to be a help and there we are.
DIANA: (Bitterly) Yes, where are we?
MRS. PACKARD: You have no one to blame but yourself.
DIANA: He has to deny it. To admit it would be false.
MRS. PACKARD: Whether it was true or false he would have to
deny it.
DIANA: Why would he have to deny it?
MRS. PACKARD: Because the ethics of a gentleman would make
him deny it in order to protect you--
DIANA: We have no one to blame but you--
DIANA: (Raging) So it doesn't matter whether it is true or not-nothing we can say or do can wipe out the miserable thoughts in your
mind--
ENID: MRS. PACKARD, I didn't know I had to protect myself-until you insinuated--
MRS. PACKARD: Not my mind! Everybody's mind! I have nothing
to do with it!
MRS. PACKARD: Why, it was you yourself who said that he
wanted to marry her--
DIANA: Enid, can't you stand up and defend us?
MRS. PACKARD: Ah, you admit you must be defended.
ENID: I said nothing of the sort. I said that he said-[All women turn simultaneously upon Felix who up to this time has
refrained from meddling in the quarrel. He is confused by this
sudden demand upon him and answers foolishly.]
DIANA: The whole world has to be defended against women like
you! If you were in my house I'd show you the door. Enid, show her
the door and prove that you trust Felix and me, that you know there
isn't and never has been anything between us but the most innocent
friendship--you don't move, you don't trust me--
FELIX: I don't know what you're talking about.
MRS. PACKARD: Didn't you say to your wife that you wanted to
marry Miss Chesbrough and didn't-FELIX: I never said such a thing in all my life and whoever said it
got it out of whole cloth!
MRS. PACKARD: He denies it of course.
ENID: I have always trusted you--I never had the slightest suspicion-but perhaps I have been blind--perhaps the world has been able to
see better from the distance and understand-FELIX: Are you going to take the world's word against ours? Are
you going to believe a silly gossip and let one minute of slander
outweigh the love and loyalty you've had from Diana and me for a
lifetime--
MRS. PACKARD: Why don't you tell your wife you love her?
MRS. PACKARD: I didn't say it, she did. (Turning to Enid.)
FELIX: I love my wife but I do not see any reason to make a public
statement of it. I stated that publicly when I married her. She knows I
love her--don't you--
ENID: I didn't.
ENID: Do I?
ENID: I didn't.
DIANA: He adores you--
DIANA: What does it matter how it happened! It's done! Done! Our
friendship is over but--I won't go without leaving my memory here
white and clean--I don't care what the world believes but I want Enid
to know I've never had a thought against her--and so I'm going to tell
the truth even though I would rather have died than tell this before--
FELIX: Don't you know it-ENID: But Diana is pretty and--
MRS. PACKARD: You did.
DIANA: Felix! I leave this house--forever! Thanks to you, Mrs.
Packard, I have lost two friends who meant more to me than even the
world's opinion. I shall never see either of you again!
MRS. PACKARD: Ah, now we will hear something--
FELIX: Diana, come back! It is too outrageous to allow such
contemptible gossip to break your friendship with Enid.
ENID: (To Felix) So you know what she is going to say?
MRS. PACKARD: You see he does not want her to go--
FELIX: Diana, be careful--you are under no obligations to--
DIANA: No, he doesn't know. It is my secret. No one else has
known. There is only one man I love or ever have loved and he's
over there.
DIANA: It would never be the same between Enid and me again.
MRS. PACKARD: She's making it up, a likely story-FELIX: I do not want her to go because I do not want to have an evil
tongue like yours triumphant! If you had come into our home and
stolen our silver you would be less a thief than you are now. New
silver can be bought--but tarnished friendship can never be bright
again. You caused this by your malicious remarks about my regard
for Miss Chesbrough.
DIANA: I'm not making it up! If you don't believe me I'll have to tell
you his name-FELIX: No, no, Diana, it is not fair to demand that of you--
MRS. PACKARD: I didn't say it.
DIANA: They will not believe me--but I'll do anything for Enid-she'll have to know. It is Aubrey Laurence.
FELIX: Pardon me, you did!
MRS. PACKARD: Aubrey Laurence! He wanted to marry you--
ENID: It's true he did--But Diana wouldn't-DIANA: But I didn't.
MRS. PACKARD: Why wouldn't you?
FELIX: You didn't?
DIANA: Because I did.
ENID: But you said-FELIX and ENID: You married him?
DIANA: Oh, what I said! It doesn't matter what I said-DIANA: (Takes wedding-ring from chain about her neck) Yes! I
married him, the last day before he sailed--
ENID: But she'll tell everyone.
MRS. PACKARD: But your family didn't like him--
DIANA: Of course she will--
DIANA: That's why I didn't tell them, but you can go now and tell
them yourself, Mrs. Packard.
ENID: But if it's not true-DIANA: It might be true--
FELIX: Aubrey Laurence! Did you really, Diana?
ENID: But it's not--is it?
MRS. PACKARD: He hasn't any money.
DIANA: I told you it wasn't-FELIX: But he's straight to the core! I'm awfully glad Diana!
ENID: But now I don't know whether to believe you or not-ENID: So am I, Diana! Forgive me!
DIANA: Nor will other people know whether to believe her or not-DIANA: There's the door, Mrs. Packard, and the world outside is
waiting to hear the latest gossip!
FELIX: But when Aubrey hears of it--Diana--what will he think--
MRS. PACKARD: I'll go, my dear, because I've offended you and I
know you are not ready to forgive me, but I promise not to breathe it
to a soul--not to a soul--
DIANA: He will wish that it were true--
[Exit up center in such a way that one knows she is excited and eager
to tell it to everyone she meets.]
DIANA: He will say that I wish it were true--
FELIX: But what will he say about you--
FELIX: And do you?
ENID: Diana, I'll never forgive you for not telling me you married
Aubrey. Why didn't you tell me that you married Aubrey?
DIANA: I do!
ENID: Have you found out since he left that you really love him--
FELIX: (Offering glass) Do have a cocktail on that.
DIANA: Madly--madly--madly--
ENID: But when we tell people you married him by proxy after Mrs.
Packard has told them you are married already, what will people
say?
FELIX: (Teasingly) Shall I cable him that?
DIANA: I have already.
DIANA: (Takes cocktail with a smile) What will people say? In any
case, exactly what they choose!
ENID: You haven't!
CURTAIN
DIANA: I have. I'm going to marry him by proxy.
ENIGMA
knives.
a play in one-act
SHE: You want me to go. . . .
by Floyd Dell
The following one-act play is reprinted from King Arthur's Socks and Other Village Plays. Floyd
Dell. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1922. It is now in the public domain and may therefore be
performed without royalties.
HE: Or I'll go--it makes no difference. Only we've got to separate,
definitely and for ever.
CHARACTERS
SHE: You really think there is no possibility--of our finding some way?...
We might be able--to find some way.
HE
SHE
HE: We found some way, Helen--twice before. And this is what it comes
to. . . . There are limits to my capacity for self-delusion. This is the end.
SHE: Yes. Only--
[A man and woman are sitting at a table, talking in bitter tones.]
HE: Only what?
SHE: So that is what you think.
SHE: It--it seems . . . such a pity. . . .
HE: Yes. For us to live together any longer would be an obscene joke.
Let's end it while we still have some sanity and decency left.
HE: Pity! The pity is this--that we should sit here and haggle about our
hatred. That's all there's left between us.
SHE: Is that the best you can do in the way of sanity and decency--to
talk like that?
SHE: (standing up) I won't haggle, Paul. If you think we should part, we
shall this very night. But I don't want to part this way, Paul. I know I've
hurt you. I want to be forgiven before I go.
HE: You'd like to cover it up with pretty words, wouldn't you? Well, we've
had enough of that. I feel as though my face were covered with spider
webs. I want to brush them off and get clean again.
HE: (standing up to face her) Can't we finish without another
sentimental lie? I'm in no mood to act out a pretty scene with you.
SHE: It's not my fault you've got weak nerves. Why don't you try to
behave like a gentleman, instead of a hysterical minor poet?
SHE: That was unjust, Paul. You know I don't mean that. What I want is
to make you understand, so you won't hate me.
HE: A gentleman, Helen, would have strangled you years ago. It takes a
man with crazy notions of freedom and generosity to be the fool that I've
been.
HE: More explanations. I thought we had both got tired of them. I used
to think it possible to heal a wound by words. But we ought to know
better. They're like acid in it.
SHE: I suppose you blame me for your ideas!
SHE: Please don't, Paul--This is the last time we shall ever hurt each
other. Won't you listen to me?
HE: I'm past blaming anybody, even myself. Helen, don't you realize
that this has got to stop? We are cutting each other to pieces with
HE: Go on.
HE: That's an interesting--and novel--explanation.
[He sits down wearily.]
SHE: I wonder if I can't make you understand. Paul--do you remember
when we fell in love?
SHE: I know you hate me. You have a right to. Not just because I was
faithless--but because I was cruel. I don't want to excuse myself--but I
didn't know what I was doing. I didn't realize I was hurting you.
HE: We've gone over that a thousand times.
SHE: Yes. I've said that before. And you've answered me that that
excuse might hold for the first time, but not for the second and the third.
You've convicted me of deliberate cruelty on that. And I've never had
anything to say. I couldn't say anything, because the truth was ... too
preposterous. It wasn't any use telling it before. But now I want you to
know the real reason.
HE: Something of that sort must have happened to us.
SHE: No--it happened to me. It didn't happen to you. You made up your
mind and walked in, with the air of a god on a holiday. It was I who fell-headlong, dizzy, blind. I didn't want to love you. It was a force too strong
for me. It swept me into your arms. I prayed against it. I had to give
myself to you, even though I knew you hardly cared. I had to--for my
heart was no longer in my own breast. It was in your hands, to do what
you liked with. You could have thrown it in the dust.
HE: This is all very romantic and exciting, but tell me--did I throw it in the
dust?
HE: A new reason, eh?
SHE: Something I've never confessed to you. Yes. It is true that I was
cruel to you--deliberately. I did want to hurt you. And do you know why?
I wanted to shatter that Olympian serenity of yours. You were too
strong, too self-confident. You had the air of a being that nothing could
hurt. You were like a god.
SHE: It pleased you not to. You put it in your pocket. But don't you
realize what it is to feel that another person has absolute power over
you? No, for you have never felt that way. You have never been utterly
dependent on another person for happiness. I was utterly dependent on
you. It humiliated me, angered me. I rebelled against it, but it was no
use. You see, my dear, I was in love with you. And you were free, and
your heart was your own, and nobody could hurt you.
HE: That was a long time ago. Was I ever Olympian? I had forgotten it.
You succeeded very well--you shattered it in me.
HE: Very fine--only it wasn't true, as you soon found out.
SHE: You are still Olympian. And I still hate you for it. I wish I could
make you suffer now. But I have lost my power to do that.
HE: Aren't you contented with what you have done? It seems to me that
I have suffered enough recently to satisfy even your ambitions.
SHE: No--or you couldn't talk like that. You sit there--making phrases.
Oh, I have hurt you a little; but you will recover. You always recovered
quickly. You are not human. If you were human, you would remember
that we once were happy, and be a little sorry that all that is over. But
you can't be sorry. You have made up your mind, and can think of
nothing but that.
SHE: When I found it out, I could hardly believe it. It wasn't possible.
Why, you had said a thousand times that you would not be jealous if I
were in love with some one else, too. It was you who put the idea in my
head. It seemed a part of your super-humanness.
HE: I did talk that way. But I wasn't a superman. I was only a damned
fool.
SHE: And Paul, when I first realized that it might be hurting you--that
you were human after all--I stopped. You know I stopped.
HE: Yes--that time.
SHE: Can't you understand? I stopped because I thought you were a
person like myself, suffering like myself. It wasn't easy to stop. It tore me
to pieces. But I suffered rather than let you suffer. But when I saw you
recover your serenity in a day while the love that I had struck down in
my heart for your sake cried out in a death agony for months, I felt again
that you were superior, inhuman--and I hated you for it.
HE: Did I deceive you so well as that?
SHE: And when the next time came, I wanted to see if it was real, this
godlike serenity of yours. I wanted to tear off the mask. I wanted to see
you suffer as I had suffered. And that is why I was cruel to you the
second time.
HE: And the third time--what about that?
[She bursts into tears, and sinks to the floor, with her head on the chair,
sheltered by her arms. Then she looks up.]
SHE: Oh, I can't talk about that--I can't. It's too near.
HE: I beg your pardon. I don't wish to show an unseemly curiosity about
your private affairs.
SHE: If you were human, you would know that there is a difference
between one's last love and all that have gone before. I can talk about
the others--but this one still hurts.
that. The facts of human nature: people do have love affairs within love
affairs. I was not faithful to you. . . .
SHE: (rising to her feet) But you had the decency to be dishonest about
it. You did not tell me the truth, in spite of all your theories. I might never
have found out. You knew better than to shake my belief in our love. But
I trusted your philosophy, and flaunted my lovers before you. I never
realized-HE: Be careful, my dear. You are contradicting yourself!
SHE: I know I am. I don't care. I no longer know what the truth is. I only
know that I am filled with remorse for what has happened. Why did it
happen? Why did we let it happen? Why didn't you stop me? . . . I want
it back!
HE: But, Helen!
SHE: Yes--our old happiness.... Don't you remember, Paul, how
beautiful everything was--? (She covers her face with her hands, and
then looks up again.) Give it back to me, Paul!
HE: (torn with conflicting wishes) Do you really believe, Helen...?
SHE: I know we can be happy again. It was all ours, and we must have
it once more, just as it was. (She holds out her hands.) Paul! Paul!
HE: (desperately) Let me think!
HE: I see. Should we chance to meet next year, you will tell me about it
then. The joys of new love will have healed the pains of the old.
SHE: There will be no more joy or pain of love for me. You do not
believe that. But that part of me which loves is dead. Do you think I have
come through all this unhurt? No. I cannot hope any more, I cannot
believe. There is nothing left for me. All I have left is regret for the
happiness that you and I have spoiled between us. . . . Oh, Paul, why
did you ever teach me your Olympian philosophy? Why did you make
me think that we were gods and could do whatever we chose? If we had
realized that we were only weak human beings, we might have saved
our happiness!
HE: (shaken) We tried to reckon with facts--I cannot blame myself for
SHE: (scornfully) Oh, your thinking! I know! Think, then--think of all the
times I've been cruel to you. Think of my wantonness--my wickedness-not of my poor, tormented attempts at happiness. My lovers, yes! Think
hard, and save yourself from any more discomfort. . . . But no--you're in
no danger. . . .
HE: What do you mean?
SHE: (laughing hysterically) You haven't believed what I've been saying
all this while, have you?
HE: Almost.
can now.
SHE: Then don't. I've been lying.
HE: You mean--
HE: Again?
SHE: Yes. My last cruelty. I had a special reason for being cruel to you.
Shan't I tell you?
SHE: Again, yes.
HE: Just as you please.
HE: I suspected it.
SHE: Why should I? Do you want me to?
SHE: My reason was this: I had learned what it is to love--and I knew
that I had never loved you--never. I wanted to hurt you so much that you
would leave me. I wanted to hurt you in such a way as to keep you from
ever coming near me again. I was afraid that if you did forgive me and
take me in your arms, you would feel me shudder, and see the terror
and loathing in my eyes. I wanted--for even then I cared for you a little-to spare you that.
HE: I make no demands upon you. You know that.
HE: (speaking with difficulty) Are you going?
SHE: You can get along without me?
SHE: (lifting from the table a desk calendar, and tearing a leaf from it,
which she holds in front of him. Her voice is tender with an inexplicable
regret.) Did you notice the date? It is the eighth of June. Do you
remember what day that is? We used to celebrate it once a year. It is
the day--(the leaf flutters to the table in front of him)--the day of our first
kiss. . . .
SHE: (mockingly) Wise man!
HE: You don't love me, then?
HE: (coldly) Why not?
SHE: Good. Then I'll tell you the truth!
HE: That would be interesting!
SHE: I was afraid you did want me! And--I was sorry for you, Paul--I
thought if you did, I would try to make things up to you, by starting over
again--if you wanted to.
HE: So that was it. . . .
[He sits looking at her. For a moment it seems clear to him that they still
love each other, and that a single word from him, a mere gesture, the
holding out of his arms to her, will reunite them. And then he doubts. . . .
She is watching him; she turns at last toward the door, hesitates, and
then walks slowly out. When she has gone he takes up the torn leaf
from the calendar, and holds it in his hands, looking at it with the air of a
man confronted by an unsolvable enigma.]
SHE: Yes, that was it. And so-HE: (harshly) You needn't say any more. Will you go, or shall I?
SHE: (lightly) I'm going, Paul. But I think--since we may not meet this
time next year--that I'd better tell you the secret of that third time. When
you asked me a while ago, I cried, and said I couldn't talk about it. But I
CURTAIN
THE ANGEL INTRUDES
a play in one-act
by Floyd Dell
THE ANGEL: No. I didn't know. You see, I've just arrived this
minute from Heaven.
The following one-act play is reprinted from King Arthur's
Socks and Other Village Plays. Floyd Dell. New York: Alfred
A. Knopf, 1922.
THE POLICEMAN: Ye look it. (Taking his arm kindly) See
here, me lad, you've been drinkin' too many of them stingers.
Ye'd better take a taxi and go home.
CHARACTERS
THE POLICEMAN
THE ANGEL
JIMMY PENDLETON
ANNABELLE
THE ANGEL: What! So soon?
[Washington Square by moonlight. A stream of Greenwich
Villagers hurrying across to the Brevoort before the doors are
locked. In their wake a sleepy policeman. The policeman stops
suddenly on seeing an Angel with shining garments and great
white wings, who has just appeared out of nowhere.]
THE POLICEMAN: I know how ye feel. I've been that way
meself. But I can't leave ye go traipsin' about in skirts.
THE ANGEL: (drawing away) Sir, I'm not traipsing about. I
am attending to important business, and I must ask you not to
detain me.
THE POLICEMAN: (suspiciously) Not so fast, me laddiebuck. What business have you at this hour of the night? Tell
me that.
THE POLICEMAN: Hey, you!
THE ANGEL: (haughtily, turning) Sir! Are you addressing
me?
THE POLICEMAN: (severely) Yes, an' I've a good mind to
lock you up.
THE ANGEL: I don't mind telling you. It concerns a mortal
called James Pendleton.
THE POLICEMAN: (genial again) Aha! So you're a friend of
Jimmy Pendleton's, are you?
THE ANGEL: Not exactly. I am his Guardian Angel.
THE ANGEL: (surprised and indignant) How very
inhospitable! Is that the way you treat strangers?
THE POLICEMAN: Don't you know it's agen the law of New
York to parade the streets in a masquerade costume?
THE POLICEMAN: Well, faith, he needs one! Come, me b'y,
I'll see ye safe to his door.
THE ANGEL: Thank you. But, if you don't mind, I prefer to go
alone.
[He makes a movement toward the door, when it suddenly
opens, and a lovely lady enters. He stares at her in surprise.]
[He turns away.]
JIMMY. Annabelle!
THE POLICEMAN: Good night to you, then.
[He idly watches the angelic figure walk away, and then stares
with amazement as it spreads its wings and soars to the top of
Washington Arch. Pausing there a moment, it soars again in the
air, and is seen wafting its way over the neighbouring
housetops to the northeast. The policeman shakes his head in
disapproval.]
[Jimmy Pendleton is dozing in an easy chair before the gratefire in his studio in Washington Mews. A yellow-backed
French novel has fallen from his knee to the floor. It is Anatole
France's "La Revolte des Anges". A suitcase stands beside the
chair. Jimmy is evidently about to go on some journey.]
[A clock begins to strike somewhere. Jimmy Pendleton
awakes.]
JIMMY: What a queer dream! (He looks at his watch.) Twelve
o'clock. The taxi ought to be here. (He takes two tickets from
his pocket, looks at them, and puts them back. Then he
commences to pace nervously up and down the room,
muttering to himself)--Fool! Idiot! Imbecile! (He is not, so that
you could notice it, any of these things. He is a very handsome
man of forty. There is the blast of an auto-horn outside. He
makes an angry gesture.) Too late! That's the taxi. (But he
stands uncertainly in the middle of the floor. There is a loud
pounding on the knocker.) Yes, yes!
[Annabelle is little. Annabelle's petulant upturned lips are
rosebud red. Annabelle's round eyes are baby-blue. Annabelle
is--young.]
ANNABELLE: Yes! It's me! (There is a tiny lisp in
Annabelle's speech.) I got tired of waiting, and the door was
unlocked, so I came right in.
JIMMY: Well!
ANNABELLE: (hurt) Aren't you glad to see me?
JIMMY: I'm--delighted. But--but--I thought we were to meet at
the station.
ANNABELLE: So we were.
JIMMY: You haven't changed your mind?
ANNABELLE: No. . . .
JIMMY: Er--good.
ANNABELLE: But-JIMMY: Yes--?
ANNABELLE: I got to wondering. . . . (She drifts to the easy
chair in front of the fire.)
JIMMY: Then why do you come with me?
ANNABELLE: Perhaps I'm not coming.
JIMMY: Wondering . . . about what? (He looks at his watch.)
ANNABELLE: About love. . . .
JIMMY: Well . . . (He lights a cigarette)--it's a subject that can
stand a good deal of wondering about. I've wondered about it
myself.
ANNABELLE: That's just it--you speak so cynically about it. I
don't believe you're in love with me at all!
JIMMY: Nonsense! Of course I'm in love with you.
ANNABELLE: (sadly) No you're not.
JIMMY: Yes you are. It's foolish--mad--wicked--but you're
coming. (She begins to cry softly.) If not--ten minutes away is
safety and peace and comfort. Shall I call a taxi for you? (She
shakes her head.) No, I thought not. Oh, it's love all right. . . .
Antony and Cleopatra defying the Mann Act! Romance!
Beauty! Adventure! How can you doubt it?
ANNABELLE: I hate you!
JIMMY: (cheerfully) I don't mind. (Smiling) I rather hate you
myself. And that's the final proof that this is love.
ANNABELLE: (sobbing) I thought love was something quite-different!
JIMMY: (angrily) But I tell you I am!
ANNABELLE: No. . . .
JIMMY: You thought it was beautiful. It isn't. It's just
blithering, blathering folly. We'll both regret it tomorrow.
JIMMY: Foolish child!
ANNABELLE: I Won't!
ANNABELLE: Well, let's not quarrel about it. We'll talk about
something else.
JIMMY: Yes you will. It's human nature. Face the facts.
JIMMY: (vehemently) What do you suppose this insanity is if
it is not love? What do you imagine leads me to this
preposterous escapade, if not that preposterous passion?
ANNABELLE: (tearfully) Facing the facts is one thing and
being in love is another.
JIMMY: Quite so. Well, how long do you think your love for
me will last?
ANNABELLE: That isn't the way I love you.
ANNABELLE: For ever!
JIMMY: H'm! I predict that you will fall in love with the next
man you meet.
JIMMY: (shutting his watch) Time's up. The die is cast! (He
lifts her from the chair. She clings to him helplessly.) My
darling! My treasure! My beloved!--Idiot that I am!
ANNABELLE: I think you're perfectly horrid.
[He kisses her fiercely.]
JIMMY: So do I. I disapprove of myself violently. I'm a
doddering lunatic, incapable of thinking of anything but you. I
can't work. I can't eat, I can't sleep. I'm no use to the world. I'm
not a man, I'm a mess. I'm about to do something silly because
I can't do anything else.
ANNABELLE: (struggling in his arms) No! No! No! Stop!
ANNABELLE: (pouting) You've no respect for me.
[The light suddenly goes out, and an instant later blazes out
again, revealing the Angel, who has suddenly arrived in the
middle of the room. The two of them stare at the apparition.]
JIMMY: None whatever. I love you. And I'm going to carry
you off.
JIMMY: Never!
ANNABELLE: Stop! Please! Please! Oh! . . .
THE ANGEL: (politely) I hope I am not intruding?
ANNABELLE: You're a brute.
JIMMY: Why--why--not exactly!
JIMMY: Absolutely. I'd advise you to go straight home.
ANNABELLE: (defiantly) Perhaps I shall!
JIMMY: Then go quick. (He takes out his watch.) In one
minute, if you are still here, I shall pick you up and carry you
off to South America.--Quick! there's the door!
ANNABELLE: (in his arms, indignantly) Jimmy! who is that
man?
JIMMY: (becoming aware of her and putting her down
carefully) I--why--the fact is, I don't-THE ANGEL: The fact is, madam, I am his Guardian Angel.
ANNABELLE: (faintly) I--I want to go. . . .
ANNABELLE: An Angel! Oh!
JIMMY: Well, why don't you? . . . Thirty seconds!
THE ANGEL: Tell me, have I intruded?
ANNABELLE: I--I can't!
ANNABELLE: No, not at all!
THE ANGEL: Thank you for reassuring me. I feared for a
moment that I had made an inopportune entrance. I was about
to suggest that I withdraw until you had finished the--er-ceremony--which I seem to have interrupted.
JIMMY: (surprised) But wasn't that what you came for--to
interrupt?
THE ANGEL: I beg your pardon!
JIMMY: (bewilderedly) I mean--if you are my Guardian
Angel, and all that sort of thing, you must have come to--to
interfere!
might serve in lieu of an introduction. I wanted to be among
friends.
JIMMY: Oh--I see.
ANNABELLE: Of course. We're delighted to have you with
us. Won't you sit down? (She leads the way to the fire.)
THE ANGEL: (perching on back of one of the big chairs) If
you don't mind! My wings, you know.
JIMMY: (hesitantly) Have a cigarette?
THE ANGEL: I hope you will not think I would be capable of
such presumption.
THE ANGEL: Thank you. (He takes one.) I am most anxious
to learn the more important of your earthly arts and sciences.
Please correct me if I go wrong. This is my first attempt,
remember. He blows out a puff of smoke.
JIMMY: (puzzled) You don't want to--so to speak--reform me?
ANNABELLE: (from the settle) You're doing it very nicely.
THE ANGEL: Not at all. Why, I scarcely know you!
THE ANGEL: It is incense to the mind.
JIMMY: But you're my--my Guardian Angel, you say?
ANNABELLE: (laughing, blowing a series of smoke rings)
You must learn to do it like this!
THE ANGEL: Ah, yes, to be sure. But the relation of angelic
guardianship has for some hundreds of years been a purely
nominal one. We have come to feel that it is best to allow
mortals to attend to their own affairs.
THE ANGEL: (in awe) That is too wonderful an art. I fear I
can never learn it!
ANNABELLE: I will teach you.
JIMMY: (abruptly) Then what did you come for?
THE ANGEL: For a change. One becomes tired of familiar
scenes. And I thought that perhaps my relationship to you
THE ANGEL: (earnestly) If you were my teacher, I think I
could learn anything.
[Annabelle giggles charmingly.]
THE ANGEL: Why not? It is an excellent drink.
JIMMY: (embarrassed) Really, Annabelle...!
JIMMY: (laughing) The maternal instinct! She is afraid you
may make yourself--ridiculous.
ANNABELLE: What's the matter?
JIMMY: Ordinarily I wouldn't mind your flirting with
strangers, but...
ANNABELLE: (indignantly) Jimmy! How can you?
THE ANGEL: It was my fault, I'm sure--if fault there was. But
what is it--to flirt? You see, I wish to learn everything.
ANNABELLE: I hope you never learn that.
THE ANGEL: I put myself in your hands.
JIMMY: Er--would you like a--drink?
THE ANGEL: Thank you. I am very thirsty. (Taking the
glass.) This is very different from what we have in Heaven.
(He tastes it. A look of gratified surprise appears on his face.)
And much better! (He drains the glass and hands it back.) May
I have some more?
THE ANGEL: Angels do not care for appearances. (He stands
up magnificently in the chair, towering above them.) Besides . .
. (refilling his glass) I feel that you do an injustice to this drink.
Already it has made a new being of me. (He looks at
Annabelle.) I feel an emotion that I have never known before.
If I were in heaven, I should sing.
ANNABELLE: Oh! Won't you sing?
THE ANGEL: The fact is, I know nothing but hymns. And I'm
tired of them. That was one reason why I left heaven. And this
robe. . . . (He descends to the floor, viewing his garment with
disapproval.) Have you an extra suit of clothes you could lend
me?
JIMMY: (reflectively) Yes, I think I have some things that
might fit. (The Angel waits.) Do you want them now? I'll look.
[He goes into the bedroom. . . . The Angel looks at Annabelle
until his gaze becomes insupportable, and she covers her eyes.
Then he comes over to her side.]
ANNABELLE: Be careful!
THE ANGEL: What should I be careful of?
ANNABELLE: Don't drink too much of that--if it's the first
time.
THE ANGEL: (gravely) I am very much afraid of you. (He
takes her hands in his.)
ANNABELLE: (smiling) One would never guess it!
THE ANGEL: I am more afraid of you than I was of God. But
even though I fear you, I must come close to you, and touch
you. I feel a strange, new emotion like fire in my veins. This
world has become beautiful to me because you are in it. I want
to stay here so that I may be with you. . . .
THE ANGEL: (blandly) Has something happened to annoy
you? (Jimmy shakes the clothes at him in an outraged gesture.)
Oh, my new costume. Thank you so much!
[He takes the clothes from Jimmy, and examines them with
interest.]
ANNABELLE: (shaken, but doubting) For how long?
THE ANGEL: For ever. . . .
ANNABELLE: (in his arms) Darling!
THE ANGEL: I am so ignorant! There is something I want to
do right now, only I do not know how to go about it properly.
[He bends shyly toward her lips.]
ANNABELLE: I will teach you.
JIMMY: (bitterly, to Annabelle) I suppose I've no right to
complain. You can make love to anybody you like. In fact, now
that I come to think of it, I predicted this very thing. I said
you'd fall in love with the next man you met. So it's off with
the old love, and-ANNABELLE: (calmly) I have never been in love before.
JIMMY: The fickleness of women is notorious. It is exceeded
only by their mendacity. But Angels have up to this time stood
in good repute. Your conduct, sir, is scandalous. I am amazed
at you.
[She kisses him.]
THE ANGEL: Heaven was nothing to this.
[They kiss again. . . . Enter Jimmy, with an old suit of clothes
over his arm. He pauses in dumbfounderment. At last he
regains his voice.]
JIMMY: Well!
[They look up. Neither of them is perturbed.]
THE ANGEL: It may be scandalous, but it should not amaze
you. It has happened too often before. I could quote you many
texts from learned theological works. "And the sons of God
looked at the daughters of men and saw that they were fair."
But even if it were as unusual as you imagine, that would not
deter me.
JIMMY: You are an unscrupulous wretch. If these are the
manners of Heaven, I am glad it is so far away, and means of
communication so difficult. A few more of you would corrupt
the morals of five continents. You are utterly depraved--Here!
what are you doing?
THE ANGEL: I am taking off my robes, so as to put on my
new clothes.
JIMMY: Spare the common decencies at least. Go in the other
room.
JIMMY: Of course you're the only girl in the world to him-now. You're the only one he's ever seen. But wait till he sees
the others! Six weeks? On second thought I make it three days.
Immortal love! (He laughs.)
THE ANGEL: Certainly, if that is the custom here. With the
clothes over his arm, he goes into the bedroom.
ANNABELLE: What difference does it make? You don't
understand. Whether it lasts a day or a year, while it lasts it will
be immortal.
JIMMY: (sternly, to Annabelle) And now tell me, what do you
mean by this?
[The Angel enters, dressed in Jimmy's old clothes, and carrying
his wings in his hands. He seems exhilarated.]
ANNABELLE: (simply)--We are in love.
THE ANGEL: How do I look?
JIMMY: Do you mean to say you would throw me over for that
fellow?
JIMMY: It is customary to wear one's tie tucked inside the
vest.
ANNABELLE: Why not?
THE ANGEL: (flinging the ends of the gorgeous necktie over
his shoulder) No! Though I have become a man, I do not
without some regret put on the dull garb of mortality. I would
not have my form lose all its original brightness. Even so it is
the excess of glory obscured.
JIMMY: What good is he? All he can do is sing hymns. In
three months he'll be a tramp.
ANNABELLE: I don't care. And he won't be a tramp. I'll look
after him.
JIMMY: (sneeringly) The maternal instinct! Well, take care of
him if you like. But of course you know that in six weeks he'll
fall in love with somebody else?
ANNABELLE: No he won't. I'm sure that I am the only girl in
the world to him.
ANNABELLE: (coming over to him) You are quite right,
darling.
[She tucks the tie inside his vest.]
THE ANGEL: Thank you, beloved.--And now these wings!
Take them, and burn them with your own sweet hands, so that I
can never leave you, even if I would.
ANNABELLE: No! I would rather put them away for you in a
closet, so that you can go and look at them any time you want
to, and see that you have the means to freedom ready to your
hand. I shall never hold you against your will. I do not want to
burn your wings. I really don't! But if you insist--!
[She takes the wings, and approaches the grate.]
JIMMY: (to the Angel) Don't let her do it! Fool! You don't
know what you are doing. Listen to me! You think that she is
wonderful--superior--divine. It is only natural. There are
moments when I have thought so myself. But I know why I
thought so, and you have yet to learn. Keep your wings, my
friend, against the day of your awakening--the day when the
glamour of your love has vanished, and you see in her, as you
will see, an inferior being, with a weak body, a stunted mind,
devoid of creative power, almost devoid of imagination, utterly
lacking in critical capacity--a being who does not know how to
work, nor how to talk, nor even how to play!
[Annabelle, dropping the wings on the hearth, stares at him, in
speechless anger.]
THE ANGEL: Sir! Do you refer in these vulgar and insulting
terms to the companion of my soul, the desire of my heart, the
perfect lover whose lips have kindled my dull senses to
ecstasy?
JIMMY: I do. Remember that I know her better than you do,
young man. Take my advice and leave her alone. Even now it
is not too late! Save yourself from this folly while there is still
time!
THE ANGEL: Never!
JIMMY: Then take these tickets--and I hope that I never see
either of you again!
[He holds out the tickets. Annabelle, after a pause, steps
forward and takes them.]
ANNABELLE: That is really sweet of you, Jimmy!
[The blast of an auto-horn is heard outside.]
JIMMY: (bitterly) And there's my taxi. Take that, too.
THE ANGEL: Farewell!
[He opens the door. Annabelle, at his side, turns and blows
Jimmy a kiss. Stonily, Jimmy watches them go out. Then he
picks up his suitcase and goes, with an air of complete finality,
into the other room. There is a moment's silence, and then the
door opens softly, and the Angel looks in, enters
surreptitiously, seizes up the wings, and with them safely
clasped to his bosom, vanishes again through the door.]
CURTAIN