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PLAYS

BY
SUSAN GLASPELL

BOSTON
SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

PRODUCTION OF ANY OF THE PLAYS HEREIN PRINTED
MUST NOT BE MADE EXCEPT BY WRITTEN PERMISSION
OF THE AUTHOR, WHO MAY BE ADDRESSED
IN CARE OF THE PUBLISHERS

PRODUCTION OF ANY OF THE PLAYS PRINTED HERE
MUST NOT BE MADE EXCEPT WITH WRITTEN PERMISSION
FROM THE AUTHOR, WHO CAN BE CONTACTED
CARE OF THE PUBLISHERS

PRESS OF GEO. H. ELLIS CO., BOSTON

	PAGE
Trivial matters. A Play in One Act	1
The People. A Play in One Act	31
Close the book. A Comedy in One Act	61
The Outdoors. A Play in One Act	97
Woman's Honor. A Comedy in One Act	119
Bernice. A Play in Three Acts	157
Repressed Desires. A Comedy in Two Scenes (IN COLLABORATION WITH GEORGE CRAM COOK)	231
Tickless Time. A Comedy in One Act (IN COLLABORATION WITH GEORGE CRAM COOK)	273

[1]

TRIFLES
A PLAY IN ONE ACT

TRIFLES
A ONE-ACT PLAY

First Performed by the Provincetown Players at the
Wharf Theatre, Provincetown, Mass.,
August 8, 1916

First performed by the Provincetown Players at the
Wharf Theatre, Provincetown, Mass.,
August 8, 1916

ORIGINAL CAST

George Henderson, County Attorney	Robert Rogers
Henry Peters, Sheriff	Robert Conville
Lewis Hale, A Neighboring Farmer	George Cram Cook
Ms. Peters	Alice Hall
Mrs. Hale	Susan Glaspell

[3]

TRIFLES

Scene: The kitchen in the now abandoned farmhouse of John Wright, a gloomy kitchen, and left without having been put in order—unwashed pans under the sink, a loaf of bread outside the bread-box, a dish-towel on the table—other signs of incompleted work. At the rear the outer door opens and the Sheriff comes in followed by the County Attorney and Hale. The Sheriff and Hale are men in middle life, the County Attorney is a young man; all are much bundled up and go at once to the stove. They are followed by the two women—the Sheriff’s wife first; she is a slight wiry woman, a thin nervous face. Mrs. Hale is larger and would ordinarily be called more comfortable looking, but she is disturbed now and looks fearfully about as she enters. The women have come in slowly, and stand close together near the door.

Scene: The kitchen in the now-abandoned farmhouse of John Wright. It’s a gloomy kitchen, left messy—dirty pans under the sink, a loaf of bread sitting outside the breadbox, a dish towel on the table—other signs of unfinished work. The outer door at the back opens, and the Sheriff walks in, followed by the County Attorney and Hail. The Sheriff and Hail are middle-aged men, while the County Attorney is a young man; all of them are bundled up and head straight to the stove. They are followed by the two women—the Sheriff wife first; she is a slight, wiry woman with a thin, nervous face. Ms. Hale is larger and would usually be described as more comfortable looking, but she appears shaken and scans the room anxiously as she enters. The women have come in slowly and stand close together near the door.

County Attorney

[Rubbing his hands.] This feels good. Come up to the fire, ladies.

[Rubbing his hands.] This feels great. Come over to the fire, ladies.

Mrs. Peters

[After taking a step forward.] I’m not—cold.

Sheriff

[Unbuttoning his overcoat and stepping away from the stove as if to mark the beginning of official business.] Now, Mr. Hale, before we move things about,[4] you explain to Mr. Henderson just what you saw when you came here yesterday morning.

[Unbuttoning his overcoat and stepping away from the stove as if to mark the beginning of official business.] Now, Mr. Hale, before we start rearranging things,[4] you need to tell Mr. Henderson exactly what you saw when you arrived here yesterday morning.

County Attorney

By the way, has anything been moved? Are things just as you left them yesterday?

By the way, has anything been moved? Are things just how you left them yesterday?

Sheriff

[Looking about.] It’s just the same. When it dropped below zero last night I thought I’d better send Frank out this morning to make a fire for us—no use getting pneumonia with a big case on, but I told him not to touch anything except the stove—and you know Frank.

[Looking around.] It’s exactly the same. When it went below zero last night, I figured I should send Frank out this morning to start a fire for us—no point in getting pneumonia with a big case on, but I told him not to touch anything except the stove—and you know Frank.

County Attorney

Somebody should have been left here yesterday.

Somebody should have stayed here yesterday.

Sheriff

Oh—yesterday. When I had to send Frank to Morris Center for that man who went crazy—I want you to know I had my hands full yesterday. I knew you could get back from Omaha by today and as long as I went over everything here myself—

Oh—yesterday. When I had to send Frank to Morris Center for that guy who lost it—I want you to know I had my hands full yesterday. I knew you could get back from Omaha by today, and as long as I went over everything here myself—

County Attorney

Well, Mr. Hale, tell just what happened when you came here yesterday morning.

Well, Mr. Hale, please tell us what happened when you came here yesterday morning.

Hale

Hail

Harry and I had started to town with a load of potatoes. We came along the road from my place and as I got here I said, “I’m going to see if I can’t[5] get John Wright to go in with me on a party telephone.” I spoke to Wright about it once before and he put me off, saying folks talked too much anyway, and all he asked was peace and quiet—I guess you know about how much he talked himself; but I thought maybe if I went to the house and talked about it before his wife, though I said to Harry that I didn’t know as what his wife wanted made much difference to John—

Harry and I had started to town with a load of potatoes. We came along the road from my place, and when I got here, I said, "I’m going to see if I can get John Wright to join me on a party telephone." I had mentioned it to Wright before, but he brushed me off, saying people talked too much anyway, and all he wanted was peace and quiet—I guess you know how much he talked himself; but I thought maybe if I went to the house and discussed it in front of his wife, although I told Harry I wasn’t sure what his wife wanted would make much difference to John—

County Attorney

Let’s talk about that later, Mr. Hale. I do want to talk about that, but tell now just what happened when you got to the house.

Let’s discuss that later, Mr. Hale. I do want to talk about it, but for now, please just tell me what happened when you got to the house.

Hale

I didn’t hear or see anything; I knocked at the door, and still it was all quiet inside. I knew they must be up, it was past eight o’clock. So I knocked again, and I thought I heard somebody say, “Come in.” I wasn’t sure, I’m not sure yet, but I opened the door—this door [indicating the door by which the two women are still standing] and there in that rocker—[pointing to it] sat Mrs. Wright.

I didn’t hear or see anything; I knocked on the door, and it was still quiet inside. I knew they must be awake; it was past eight o’clock. So I knocked again, and I thought I heard someone say, “Come in.” I wasn’t sure, I’m still not sure, but I opened the door—this door [indicating the door by which the two women are still standing] and there in that rocker—[pointing to it] sat Mrs. Wright.

[They all look at the rocker.

[They all look at the rocker.]

County Attorney

What—was she doing?

What was she doing?

Hale

Hail

She was rockin’ back and forth. She had her apron in her hand and was kind of—pleating it.

She was rocking back and forth. She had her apron in her hand and was sort of—pleating it.

[6]

County Attorney

And how did she—look?

And how did she look?

Hale

Well, she looked queer.

Well, she looked weird.

County Attorney

How do you mean—queer?

What do you mean—queer?

Hale

Hail

Well, as if she didn’t know what she was going to do next. And kind of done up.

Well, as if she didn’t already know what she was going to do next. And sort of dressed up.

County Attorney

How did she seem to feel about your coming?

How did she seem to feel about your arrival?

Hale

Hail

Why, I don’t think she minded—one way or other. She didn’t pay much attention. I said, “How do, Mrs. Wright, it’s cold, ain’t it?” And she said, “Is it?”—and went on kind of pleating at her apron. Well, I was surprised; she didn’t ask me to come up to the stove, or to set down, but just sat there, not even looking at me, so I said, “I want to see John.” And then she—laughed. I guess you would call it a laugh. I thought of Harry and the team outside, so I said a little sharp: “Can’t I see John?” “No,” she says, kind o’ dull like. “Ain’t he home?” says I. “Yes,” says she, “he’s home.” “Then why can’t I see him?” I asked her, out of patience. “’Cause he’s dead,” says she. “Dead?” says I. She just nodded her head, not getting a bit excited, but rockin’ back and forth. “Why—where is he?” says I, not[7] knowing what to say. She just pointed upstairs—like that [himself pointing to the room above]. I got up, with the idea of going up there. I walked from there to here—then I says, “Why, what did he die of?” “He died of a rope round his neck,” says she, and just went on pleatin’ at her apron. Well, I went out and called Harry. I thought I might—need help. We went upstairs and there he was lyin’—

Why, I don’t think she cared—one way or the other. She didn’t pay much attention. I said, “How’s it going, Mrs. Wright? It’s cold, isn’t it?” And she replied, “Is it?”—and continued fiddling with her apron. I was taken aback; she didn’t invite me to come closer to the stove or to sit down, but just sat there, not even looking at me. So, I said, “I want to see John.” And then she laughed. I guess you could call it a laugh. I thought about Harry and the team outside, so I said a bit sharply, “Can’t I see John?” “No,” she said, kinda dull. “Isn’t he home?” I asked. “Yes,” she said, “he’s home.” “Then why can’t I see him?” I pressed, losing my patience. “Because he’s dead,” she replied. “Dead?” I said. She just nodded her head, not getting at all excited, but rocking back and forth. “Why—where is he?” I asked, unsure of what to say. She just pointed upstairs—like that [himself pointing to the room above]. I got up, thinking of going up there. I walked from there to here—then I asked, “What did he die from?” “He died of a rope around his neck,” she answered, and went back to pleating her apron. Well, I went out and called Harry. I thought I might need help. We went upstairs and there he was lying—

County Attorney

I think I’d rather have you go into that upstairs, where you can point it all out. Just go on now with the rest of the story.

I think I'd prefer you to go upstairs, where you can explain everything. Just continue with the rest of the story now.

Hale

Well, my first thought was to get that rope off. It looked ... [Stops, his face twitches] ... but Harry, he went up to him, and he said, “No, he’s dead all right, and we’d better not touch anything.” So we went back down stairs. She was still sitting that same way. “Has anybody been notified?” I asked. “No,” says she, unconcerned. “Who did this, Mrs. Wright?” said Harry. He said it business-like—and she stopped pleatin’ of her apron. “I don’t know,” she says. “You don’t know?” says Harry. “No,” says she. “Weren’t you sleepin’ in the bed with him?” says Harry. “Yes,” says she, “but I was on the inside.” “Somebody slipped a rope round his neck and strangled him and you didn’t wake up?” says Harry. “I didn’t wake up,” she said after him. We must ’a looked as if we didn’t see how that could be, for after a minute she said, “I sleep sound.” Harry was going to ask her more questions but I said maybe we ought to let her tell her story first to the[8] coroner, or the sheriff, so Harry went fast as he could to Rivers’ place, where there’s a telephone.

Well, my first thought was to get that rope off. It looked ... [Stops, his face twitches] ... but Harry went up to him and said, “No, he’s dead for sure, and we’d better not touch anything.” So we went back downstairs. She was still sitting the same way. “Has anyone been notified?” I asked. “No,” she said, unconcerned. “Who did this, Mrs. Wright?” Harry asked. He said it in a business-like manner—and she stopped pleating her apron. “I don’t know,” she replied. “You don’t know?” Harry pressed. “No,” she said. “Weren’t you sleeping in the bed with him?” Harry asked. “Yes,” she said, “but I was on the inside.” “Somebody slipped a rope around his neck and strangled him and you didn’t wake up?” Harry asked. “I didn’t wake up,” she echoed. We must have looked like we couldn’t understand how that was possible, because after a moment she said, “I sleep sound.” Harry was going to ask her more questions, but I suggested maybe we should let her tell her story first to the [8] coroner or the sheriff, so Harry hurried as fast as he could to Rivers’ place, where there’s a telephone.

County Attorney

And what did Mrs. Wright do when she knew that you had gone for the coroner?

And what did Mrs. Wright do when she found out you had gone for the coroner?

Hale

She moved from that chair to this one over here [Pointing to a small chair in the corner] and just sat there with her hands held together and looking down. I got a feeling that I ought to make some conversation, so I said I had come in to see if John wanted to put in a telephone, and at that she started to laugh, and then she stopped and looked at me—scared. [The County Attorney, who has had his notebook out, makes a note.] I dunno, maybe it wasn’t scared. I wouldn’t like to say it was. Soon Harry got back, and then Dr. Lloyd came, and you, Mr. Peters, and so I guess that’s all I know that you don’t.

She moved from that chair to this one over here [Pointing to a small chair in the corner] and just sat there with her hands clasped and looking down. I felt like I should say something, so I mentioned I had come to see if John wanted to get a phone, and that made her laugh, then she stopped and looked at me—scared. [The County Attorney, who has been taking notes, makes a note.] I don’t know, maybe it wasn’t scared. I wouldn’t want to say it was. Soon Harry came back, and then Dr. Lloyd showed up, and you, Mr. Peters, so I guess that's all I know that you don't.

County Attorney

[Looking around.] I guess we’ll go upstairs first—and then out to the barn and around there. [To the Sheriff.] You’re convinced that there was nothing important here—nothing that would point to any motive.

[Looking around.] I think we should head upstairs first—and then check out the barn and the area around it. [To the Sheriff's office.] You really believe there’s nothing significant here—nothing that could suggest any motive.

Sheriff

Nothing here but kitchen things.

Just kitchen stuff here.

[9]

[The County Attorney, after again looking around the kitchen, opens the door of a cupboard closet. He gets up on a chair and looks on a shelf. Pulls his hand away, sticky.

[The County Attorney looks around the kitchen again, then opens the door of a cupboard. He climbs up on a chair to check a shelf. He pulls his hand back, sticky.]

County Attorney

Here’s a nice mess.

Here’s a nice chaos.

[The women draw nearer.

The women approach.

Mrs. Peters

[To the other woman.] Oh, her fruit; it did freeze. [To the Lawyer.] She worried about that when it turned so cold. She said the fire’d go out and her jars would break.

[To the other woman.] Oh, her fruit; it did freeze. [To the Attorney.] She was concerned about that when it got so cold. She said the fire would go out and her jars would break.

Sheriff

Well, can you beat the women! Held for murder and worryin’ about her preserves.

Well, can you believe these women! Charged with murder and still worried about her preserves.

County Attorney

I guess before we’re through she may have something more serious than preserves to worry about.

I guess by the time we're done, she might have something more serious to worry about than just preserves.

Hale

Well, women are used to worrying over trifles.

Well, women tend to stress over small things.

[The two women move a little closer together.

[The two women move a bit closer to each other.]

County Attorney

[With the gallantry of a young politician.] And yet, for all their worries, what would we do without the ladies? [The women do not unbend. He goes to the sink, takes a dipperful of water from the pail and pouring it into a basin, washes his hands. Starts to wipe them on the roller-towel, turns it for a cleaner place.] Dirty towels! [Kicks his foot against the pans under the sink.] Not much of a housekeeper, would you say, ladies?

[With the bravery of a young politician.] And yet, despite all their concerns, what would we do without the ladies? [The women don't relax. He goes to the sink, takes a dipperful of water from the pail, and pours it into a basin to wash his hands. He starts to dry them on the roller towel, turning it to find a cleaner spot.] Gross towels! [Kicks his foot against the pans under the sink.] Not much of a housekeeper, would you say, ladies?

[10]

Mrs. Hale

[Stiffly.] There’s a great deal of work to be done on a farm.

[Stiffly.] There’s a lot of work to do on a farm.

County Attorney

To be sure. And yet [With a little bow to her] I know there are some Dickson county farmhouses which do not have such roller towels.

To be sure. And yet [With a little bow to her] I know there are some Dickson County farmhouses that don’t have roller towels like that.

[He gives it a pull to expose its full length again.

He pulls it to reveal its full length again.

Mrs. Hale

Those towels get dirty awful quick. Men’s hands aren’t always as clean as they might be.

Those towels get dirty really fast. Guys’ hands aren’t always as clean as they could be.

County Attorney

Ah, loyal to your sex, I see. But you and Mrs. Wright were neighbors. I suppose you were friends, too.

Ah, staying true to your gender, I see. But you and Mrs. Wright were neighbors. I guess you were friends as well.

Mrs. Hale

[Shaking her head.] I’ve not seen much of her of late years. I’ve not been in this house—it’s more than a year.

[Shaking her head.] I haven't seen much of her in recent years. I haven't been in this house for over a year.

County Attorney

And why was that? You didn’t like her?

And why is that? You didn't like her?

Mrs. Hale

I liked her all well enough. Farmers’ wives have their hands full, Mr. Henderson. And then—

I liked her just fine. Farmers' wives have a lot on their plates, Mr. Henderson. And then—

County Attorney

Yes—?

Yes?

[11]

Mrs. Hale

[Looking about.] It never seemed a very cheerful place.

[Looking around.] It never felt like a very happy place.

County Attorney

No—it’s not cheerful. I shouldn’t say she had the homemaking instinct.

No—it’s not cheerful. I shouldn't say she had the home-making instinct.

Mrs. Hale

Well, I don’t know as Wright had, either.

Well, I don't think Wright did either.

County Attorney

You mean that they didn’t get on very well?

You mean they didn't get along very well?

Mrs. Hale

No, I don’t mean anything. But I don’t think a place’d be any cheerfuller for John Wright’s being in it.

No, I don’t mean anything. But I don’t think a place would be any happier with John Wright around.

County Attorney

I’d like to talk more of that a little later. I want to get the lay of things upstairs now.

I’d like to discuss that more a bit later. I want to get a sense of what’s going on upstairs now.

[He goes to the left, where three steps lead to a stair door.

[He heads to the left, where three steps lead to a stairway door.

Sheriff

I suppose anything Mrs. Peters does’ll be all right. She was to take in some clothes for her, you know, and a few little things. We left in such a hurry yesterday.

I guess anything Mrs. Peters does will be fine. She was supposed to pick up some clothes for her, you know, and a few other small things. We left in such a rush yesterday.

County Attorney

Yes, but I would like to see what you take, Mrs.[12] Peters, and keep an eye out for anything that might be of use to us.

Yes, but I’d like to know what you’re taking, Mrs.[12] Peters, and watch out for anything that could be useful to us.

Mrs. Peters

Yes, Mr. Henderson.

Sure, Mr. Henderson.

[The women listen to the men’s steps on the stairs, then look about the kitchen.

[The women listen to the men's footsteps on the stairs, then glance around the kitchen.

Mrs. Hale

I’d hate to have men coming into my kitchen, snooping around and criticising.

I wouldn't want guys coming into my kitchen, snooping around and judging.

[She arranges the pans under sink which the Lawyer had shoved out of place.

[She puts the pans back in place under the sink that the Attorney had pushed out of order.]

Mrs. Peters

Of course it’s no more than their duty.

Of course, it's just their job.

Mrs. Hale

Duty’s all right, but I guess that deputy sheriff that came out to make the fire might have got a little of this on. [Gives the roller towel a pull.] Wish I’d thought of that sooner. Seems mean to talk about her for not having things slicked up when she had to come away in such a hurry.

Duty's fine, but I think that deputy sheriff who came to start the fire might have picked up a bit of this. [Gives the roller towel a pull.] I wish I had thought of that earlier. It feels unfair to criticize her for not tidying up when she had to leave in such a rush.

Mrs. Peters

[Who has gone to a small table in the left rear corner of the room, and lifted one end of a towel that covers a pan.] She had bread set.

[Stands still.

[Stays still.

Mrs. Hale

[Eyes fixed on a loaf of bread beside the bread-box,[13] which is on a low shelf at the other side of the room. Moves slowly toward it.] She was going to put this in there. [Picks up loaf, then abruptly drops it. In a manner of returning to familiar things.] It’s a shame about her fruit. I wonder if it’s all gone. [Gets up on the chair and looks.] I think there’s some here that’s all right, Mrs. Peters. Yes—here; [Holding it toward the window] this is cherries, too. [Looking again.] I declare I believe that’s the only one. [Gets down, bottle in her hand. Goes to the sink and wipes it off on the outside.] She’ll feel awful bad after all her hard work in the hot weather. I remember the afternoon I put up my cherries last summer.

[Her eyes are locked on a loaf of bread next to the bread box,[13] which is on a low shelf across the room. She moves slowly towards it.] She was planning to put this in there. [She picks up the loaf, then suddenly drops it, almost as if reconnecting with something familiar.] It’s too bad about her fruit. I wonder if it’s all gone. [She climbs up on the chair and checks.] I think there’s some here that’s still good, Mrs. Peters. Yes—look; [Holding it up to the window] these are cherries, too. [Looking again.] I really think that’s the only one. [She gets down, holding the bottle. She walks to the sink and wipes it off on the outside.] She’s going to feel really bad after all her hard work in the heat. I remember the afternoon I canned my cherries last summer.

[She puts the bottle on the big kitchen table, center of the room. With a sigh, is about to sit down in the rocking-chair. Before she is seated realizes what chair it is; with a slow look at it, steps back. The chair which she has touched rocks back and forth.

[She places the bottle on the large kitchen table, which is in the middle of the room. With a sigh, she is about to sit down in the rocking chair. Before she sits, she notices what chair it is; with a slow glance at it, she steps back. The chair she touched rocks back and forth.]

Mrs. Peters

Well, I must get those things from the front room closet. [She goes to the door at the right, but after looking into the other room, steps back.] You coming with me, Mrs. Hale? You could help me carry them.

Well, I need to grab those things from the front room closet. [She goes to the door on the right, but after looking into the other room, she steps back.] Want to come with me, Mrs. Hale? You could help me carry them.

[14]

[They go in the other room; reappear, Mrs. Peters carrying a dress and skirt, Mrs. Hale following with a pair of shoes.

[They head into the other room and come back, Ms. Peters holding a dress and skirt, while Mrs. Hale follows with a pair of shoes.

Mrs. Peters

My, it’s cold in there.

Wow, it's cold in here.

[She puts the clothes on the big table, and hurries to the stove.

She places the clothes on the large table, and rushes to the stove.

Mrs. Hale

[Examining the skirt.] Wright was close. I think maybe that’s why she kept so much to herself. She didn’t even belong to the Ladies Aid. I suppose she felt she couldn’t do her part, and then you don’t enjoy things when you feel shabby. She used to wear pretty clothes and be lively, when she was Minnie Foster, one of the town girls singing in the choir. But that—oh, that was thirty years ago. This all you was to take in?

[Examining the skirt.] Wright was nearby. I think that’s why she kept to herself so much. She didn’t even join the Ladies Aid. I guess she felt like she couldn’t contribute, and when you feel low, it’s hard to enjoy things. She used to wear nice clothes and was full of life when she was Minnie Foster, one of the town girls singing in the choir. But that—oh, that was thirty years ago. Is this all you were supposed to take in?

Mrs. Peters

She said she wanted an apron. Funny thing to want, for there isn’t much to get you dirty in jail, goodness knows. But I suppose just to make her feel more natural. She said they was in the top drawer in this cupboard. Yes, here. And then her little shawl that always hung behind the door. [Opens stair door and looks.] Yes, here it is.

She said she wanted an apron. It’s a strange thing to want, considering there isn’t much that can get you dirty in jail, that’s for sure. But I guess it’s just to help her feel more normal. She said they were in the top drawer of this cupboard. Yes, here it is. And then her little shawl that always hung behind the door. [Opens stair door and looks.] Yes, here it is.

[Quickly shuts door leading upstairs.

Quickly shuts the upstairs door.

Mrs. Hale

[Abruptly moving toward her.] Mrs. Peters?

[Suddenly approaching her.] Mrs. Peters?

Mrs. Peters

Yes, Mrs. Hale?

Mrs. Hale

Do you think she did it?

[15]

Mrs. Peters

[In a frightened voice.] Oh, I don’t know.

[In a scared voice.] Oh, I don’t know.

Mrs. Hale

Well, I don’t think she did. Asking for an apron and her little shawl. Worrying about her fruit.

Mrs. Peters

[Starts to speak, glances up, where footsteps are heard in the room above. In a low voice.] Mr. Peters says it looks bad for her. Mr. Henderson is awful sarcastic in a speech and he’ll make fun of her sayin’ she didn’t wake up.

[Starts to speak, glances up, where footsteps are heard in the room above. In a low voice.] Mr. Peters says it doesn’t look good for her. Mr. Henderson is really sarcastic in his speech and he’ll make fun of her for not waking up.

Mrs. Hale

Well, I guess John Wright didn’t wake when they was slipping that rope under his neck.

Well, I guess John Wright didn’t wake up when they were slipping that rope under his neck.

Mrs. Peters

No, it’s strange. It must have been done awful crafty and still. They say it was such a—funny way to kill a man, rigging it all up like that.

No, it’s weird. It must have been done really cleverly and quietly. They say it was such a—strange way to kill a man, setting it all up like that.

Mrs. Hale

That’s just what Mr. Hale said. There was a gun in the house. He says that’s what he can’t understand.

That’s exactly what Mr. Hale said. There was a gun in the house. He says that’s what he can’t figure out.

Mrs. Peters

Mr. Henderson said coming out that what was needed for the case was a motive; something to show anger, or—sudden feeling.

Mr. Henderson said after coming out that what was needed for the case was a motive; something to show anger, or—sudden emotion.

[16]

Mrs. Hale

[Who is standing by the table.] Well, I don’t see any signs of anger around here. [She puts her hand on the dish towel which lies on the table, stands looking down at table, one half of which is clean, the other half messy.] It’s wiped to here. [Makes a move as if to finish work, then turns and looks at loaf of bread outside the breadbox. Drops towel. In that voice of coming back to familiar things.] Wonder how they are finding things upstairs. I hope she had it a little more red-up up there. You know, it seems kind of sneaking. Locking her up in town and then coming out here and trying to get her own house to turn against her!

[Who is standing by the table.] Well, I don’t see any signs of anger around here. [She puts her hand on the dish towel lying on the table, looking down at it, one half clean and the other messy.] It’s wiped to here. [Makes a move as if to finish the work, then turns and looks at the loaf of bread outside the breadbox. Drops the towel. In that voice of returning to familiar things.] I wonder how they’re handling things upstairs. I hope she had it a bit more tidied up up there. You know, it feels kind of sneaky. Locking her up in town and then coming out here and trying to turn her own house against her!

Mrs. Peters

But Mrs. Hale, the law is the law.

Mrs. Hale

I s’pose ’tis. [Unbuttoning her coat.] Better loosen up your things, Mrs. Peters. You won’t feel them when you go out.

I guess it is. [Unbuttoning her coat.] You should loosen up your things, Mrs. Peters. You won’t notice them when you go outside.

[Mrs. Peters takes off her fur tippet, goes to hang it on hook at back of room, stands looking at the under part of the small corner table.

Ms. Peters takes off her fur scarf, goes to hang it on the hook at the back of the room, and stands there looking at the underside of the small corner table.

Mrs. Peters

She was piecing a quilt.

She was making a quilt.

[17]

[She brings the large sewing basket and they look at the bright pieces.

She carries the big sewing basket and they admire the colorful fabric pieces.

Mrs. Hale

It’s log cabin pattern. Pretty, isn’t it? I wonder if she was goin’ to quilt it or just knot it?

It’s a log cabin pattern. Nice, right? I wonder if she was planning to quilt it or just tie it?

[Footsteps have been heard coming down the stairs. The Sheriff enters followed by Hale and the County Attorney.

[Footsteps can be heard coming down the stairs. The Sheriff enters, followed by Hail and the County Attorney.

Sheriff

They wonder if she was going to quilt it or just knot it!

They wonder if she was going to quilt it or just tie it up!

[The men laugh, the women look abashed.

[The guys laugh, the women look embarrassed.]

County Attorney

[Rubbing his hands over the stove.] Frank’s fire didn’t do much up there, did it? Well, let’s go out to the barn and get that cleared up.

[Rubbing his hands over the stove.] Frank’s fire didn’t really help up there, did it? Well, let’s head out to the barn and sort that out.

[The men go outside.

The guys go outside.

Mrs. Hale

[Resentfully.] I don’t know as there’s anything so strange, our takin’ up our time with little things while we’re waiting for them to get the evidence. [She sits down at the big table smoothing out a block with decision.] I don’t see as it’s anything to laugh about.

[Resentfully.] I don’t know if there’s anything more bizarre than us wasting our time on trivial things while we wait for them to gather the evidence. [She sits down at the big table, smoothing out a block with determination.] I don’t think it’s something to laugh about.

Mrs. Peters

[Apologetically.] Of course they’ve got awful important things on their minds.

[Sorry about that.] They definitely have really important things to think about.

[18]

[Pulls up a chair and joins Mrs. Hale at the table.

[Pulls up a chair and sits down with Mrs. Hale at the table.

Mrs. Hale

[Examining another block.] Mrs. Peters, look at this one. Here, this is the one she was working on, and look at the sewing! All the rest of it has been so nice and even. And look at this! It’s all over the place! Why, it looks as if she didn’t know what she was about!

[Examining another block.] Mrs. Peters, check this one out. Here, this is the one she was working on, and look at the stitching! Everything else has been so nice and even. And look at this! It’s a total mess! It looks like she didn’t know what she was doing!

[After she has said this they look at each other, then start to glance back at the door. After an instant Mrs. Hale has pulled at a knot and ripped the sewing.

[After she says this, they look at each other, then start glancing back at the door. After a moment, Mrs. Hale pulls at a knot and tears the sewing.]

Mrs. Peters

Oh, what are you doing, Mrs. Hale?

Oh, what are you up to, Mrs. Hale?

Mrs. Hale

[Mildly.] Just pulling out a stitch or two that’s not sewed very good. [Threading a needle.] Bad sewing always made me fidgety.

[Mildly.] Just pulling out a stitch or two that’s not sewn very well. [Threading a needle.] Bad sewing has always made me restless.

Mrs. Peters

[Nervously.] I don’t think we ought to touch things.

[Nervously.] I don’t think we should touch anything.

Mrs. Hale

I’ll just finish up this end. [Suddenly stopping and leaning forward.] Mrs. Peters?

I’ll just wrap up this part. [Suddenly stopping and leaning forward.] Mrs. Peters?

Mrs. Peters

Yes, Mrs. Hale?

Mrs. Hale

What do you suppose she was so nervous about?

What do you think she was so nervous about?

[19]

Mrs. Peters

Oh—I don’t know. I don’t know as she was nervous. I sometimes sew awful queer when I’m just tired. [Mrs. Hale starts to say something, looks at Mrs. Peters, then goes on sewing.] Well I must get these things wrapped up. They may be through sooner than we think. [Putting apron and other things together.] I wonder where I can find a piece of paper, and string.

Oh—I’m not sure. I don’t think she was nervous. I sometimes sew really strangely when I’m just tired. [Ms. Hale starts to say something, looks at Mrs. Peters, then goes on sewing.] Well, I need to get these things wrapped up. They might be done sooner than we think. [Putting apron and other things together.] I wonder where I can find some paper and string.

Mrs. Hale

In that cupboard, maybe.

In that cabinet, maybe.

Mrs. Peters

[Looking in cupboard.] Why, here’s a bird-cage. [Holds it up.] Did she have a bird, Mrs. Hale?

[Looking in cupboard.] Wow, here's a birdcage. [Holds it up.] Did Mrs. Hale have a bird?

Mrs. Hale

Why, I don’t know whether she did or not—I’ve not been here for so long. There was a man around last year selling canaries cheap, but I don’t know as she took one; maybe she did. She used to sing real pretty herself.

Why, I don’t know if she did or not—I haven’t been here in so long. There was a guy last year selling canaries for cheap, but I’m not sure if she got one; maybe she did. She used to sing really beautifully herself.

Mrs. Peters

[Glancing around.] Seems funny to think of a bird here. But she must have had one, or why would she have a cage? I wonder what happened to it.

[Looking around.] It seems weird to think of a bird being here. But she must have had one, or why would she have a cage? I wonder what happened to it.

Mrs. Hale

I s’pose maybe the cat got it.

I guess maybe the cat got it.

[20]

Mrs. Peters

No, she didn’t have a cat. She’s got that feeling some people have about cats—being afraid of them. My cat got in her room and she was real upset and asked me to take it out.

No, she didn’t have a cat. She had that feeling some people have about cats—being scared of them. My cat got into her room and she was really upset and asked me to take it out.

Mrs. Hale

My sister Bessie was like that. Queer, ain’t it?

My sister Bessie was like that. Strange, isn’t it?

Mrs. Peters

[Examining the cage.] Why, look at this door. It’s broke. One hinge is pulled apart.

[Examining the cage.] Wow, check out this door. It’s broken. One hinge is torn apart.

Mrs. Hale

[Looking too.] Looks as if someone must have been rough with it.

[Looking too.] It seems like someone must have been hard on it.

Mrs. Peters

Ms. Peters

Why, yes.

Sure thing.

[She brings the cage forward and puts it on the table.

She brings the cage closer and sets it on the table.

Mrs. Hale

I wish if they’re going to find any evidence they’d be about it. I don’t like this place.

I wish they would actually find some evidence. I really don't like this place.

Mrs. Peters

But I’m awful glad you came with me, Mrs. Hale. It would be lonesome for me sitting here alone.

But I’m really glad you came with me, Mrs. Hale. It would be lonely sitting here by myself.

Mrs. Hale

It would, wouldn’t it? [Dropping her sewing.] But I tell you what I do wish, Mrs. Peters. I wish[21] I had come over sometimes when she was here. I—[Looking around the room]—wish I had.

It would, right? [Dropping her sewing.] But you know what I really wish, Mrs. Peters? I wish[21] I had come over sometimes when she was here. I—[Looking around the room]—wish I had.

Mrs. Peters

But of course you were awful busy, Mrs. Hale—your house and your children.

But of course you were really busy, Mrs. Hale—your home and your kids.

Mrs. Hale

I could’ve come. I stayed away because it weren’t cheerful—and that’s why I ought to have come. I—I’ve never liked this place. Maybe because it’s down in a hollow and you don’t see the road. I dunno what it is, but it’s a lonesome place and always was. I wish I had come over to see Minnie Foster sometimes. I can see now—

I could've come. I stayed away because it wasn't cheerful—and that's why I should have come. I—I’ve never liked this place. Maybe it’s because it’s down in a hollow and you can’t see the road. I don’t know what it is, but it’s a lonely place and always has been. I wish I had come over to see Minnie Foster sometimes. I can see now—

[Shakes her head.

[ shakes her head.

Mrs. Peters

Well, you mustn’t reproach yourself, Mrs. Hale. Somehow we just don’t see how it is with other folks until—something comes up.

Well, you shouldn’t blame yourself, Mrs. Hale. We just don’t realize what it’s like for other people until something happens.

Mrs. Hale

Not having children makes less work—but it makes a quiet house, and Wright out to work all day, and no company when he did come in. Did you know John Wright, Mrs. Peters?

Not having kids means less work—but it makes for a quiet house, with Wright gone working all day, and no one to keep him company when he gets home. Did you know John Wright, Mrs. Peters?

Mrs. Peters

Not to know him; I’ve seen him in town. They say he was a good man.

Not knowing him; I’ve seen him around town. They say he was a good guy.

Mrs. Hale

Yes—good; he didn’t drink, and kept his word as[22] well as most, I guess, and paid his debts. But he was a hard man, Mrs. Peters. Just to pass the time of day with him—[Shivers.] Like a raw wind that gets to the bone. [Pauses, her eye falling on the cage.] I should think she would ’a wanted a bird. But what do you suppose went with it?

Yes—good; he didn’t drink, and kept his word as[22] well as most, I guess, and paid his debts. But he was a tough guy, Mrs. Peters. Just to spend a few minutes with him—[Shivers.] Like a cold wind that cuts right through you. [Pauses, her eye falling on the cage.] I would think she would have wanted a bird. But what do you think happened to it?

Mrs. Peters

I don’t know, unless it got sick and died.

I don’t know, unless it got sick and passed away.

[She reaches over and swings the broken door, swings it again, both women watch it.

She reaches over and swings the broken door, swings it again, both women watch it.

Mrs. Hale

You weren’t raised round here, were you? [Mrs. Peters shakes her head.] You didn’t know—her?

You weren't raised around here, were you? [Ms. Peters shakes her head.] You didn't know—her?

Mrs. Peters

Not till they brought her yesterday.

Not until they brought her yesterday.

Mrs. Hale

She—come to think of it, she was kind of like a bird herself—real sweet and pretty, but kind of timid and—fluttery. How?—she—did—change. [Silence; then as if struck by a happy thought and relieved to get back to every day things.] Tell you what, Mrs. Peters, why don’t you take the quilt in with you? It might take up her mind.

She—now that I think about it, she was kind of like a bird herself—really sweet and pretty, but a bit shy and—fluttery. How?—she—did—change. [Silence; then as if struck by a happy thought and relieved to get back to everyday things.] Hey, Mrs. Peters, why don’t you take the quilt in with you? It might help take her mind off things.

Mrs. Peters

Why, I think that’s a real nice idea, Mrs. Hale. There couldn’t possibly be any objection to it, could[23] there? Now, just what would I take? I wonder if her patches are in here—and her things.

Why, I think that’s a really nice idea, Mrs. Hale. There couldn’t possibly be any objection to it, could[23] there? Now, what should I take? I wonder if her patches are in here—and her stuff.

[They look in the sewing basket.

They check the sewing kit.

Mrs. Hale

Here’s some red. I expect this has got sewing things in it. [Brings out a fancy box.] What a pretty box. Looks like something somebody would give you. Maybe her scissors are in here. [Opens box. Suddenly puts her hand to her nose.] Why—[Mrs. Peters bends nearer, then turns her face away.] There’s something wrapped up in this piece of silk.

Here’s some red. I expect this has sewing stuff in it. [Brings out a fancy box.] What a pretty box. Looks like something someone would give you. Maybe her scissors are in here. [Opens box. Suddenly puts her hand to her nose.] Why—[Mrs. Peters bends nearer, then turns her face away.] There’s something wrapped up in this piece of silk.

Mrs. Peters

Why, this isn’t her scissors.

These aren't her scissors.

Mrs. Hale

[Lifting the silk.] Oh, Mrs. Peters—its—

[Mrs. Peters bends closer.

[Mrs. Peters leans in closer.

Mrs. Peters

It’s the bird.

Mrs. Hale

[Jumping up.] But, Mrs. Peters—look at it! Its neck! Look at its neck! It’s all—other side to.

Mrs. Peters

Somebody—wrung—its—neck.

[24]

[Their eyes meet. A look of growing comprehension, of horror. Steps are heard outside. Mrs. Hale slips box under quilt pieces, and sinks into her chair. Enter Sheriff and County Attorney. Mrs. Peters rises.

[Their eyes connect. There's a look of increasing understanding, mixed with fear. Footsteps are heard outside. Mrs. Hale quickly hides the box under the quilt pieces and sits down in her chair. Sheriff and County Attorney enter. Mrs. Peters stands up.]

County Attorney

[As one turning from serious things to little pleasantries.] Well, ladies, have you decided whether she was going to quilt it or knot it?

[As one shifts from serious matters to small, lighthearted ones.] So, ladies, have you made up your minds about whether she was going to quilt it or knot it?

Mrs. Peters

We think she was going to—knot it.

We think she was going to—tie it.

County Attorney

Well, that’s interesting, I’m sure. [Seeing the bird-cage.] Has the bird flown?

Well, that's interesting, I'm sure. [Looking at the birdcage.] Has the bird flown?

Mrs. Hale

[Putting more quilt pieces over the box.] We think the—cat got it.

[Putting more quilt pieces over the box.] We think the cat got it.

County Attorney

[Preoccupied.] Is there a cat?

[Busy.] Is there a cat?

[Mrs. Hale glances in a quick covert way at Mrs. Peters.

[Ms. Hale glances at Ms. Peters in a quick, discreet way.

Mrs. Peters

Well, not now. They’re superstitious, you know. They leave.

County Attorney

[To Sheriff Peters, continuing an interrupted conversation.] No sign at all of anyone having come from the outside. Their own rope. Now let’s go up again and go over it piece by piece. [They start[25] upstairs.] It would have to have been someone who knew just the—

[To Sheriff Peters, continuing an interrupted conversation.] No evidence at all that anyone came from the outside. Their own rope. Now let’s go back up and review it section by section. [They start[25] upstairs.] It must have been someone who knew just the—

[Mrs. Peters sits down. The two women sit there not looking at one another, but as if peering into something and at the same time holding back. When they talk now it is in the manner of feeling their way over strange ground, as if afraid of what they are saying, but as if they can not help saying it.

[Ms. Peters sits down. The two women sit there not looking at each other, but as if they are peering into something while also holding back. When they talk now, it’s like they’re feeling their way over unfamiliar territory, as if they’re afraid of what they’re saying, but can’t help saying it.]

Mrs. Hale

She liked the bird. She was going to bury it in that pretty box.

She liked the bird. She was going to bury it in that nice box.

Mrs. Peters

[In a whisper.] When I was a girl—my kitten—there was a boy took a hatchet, and before my eyes—and before I could get there—[Covers her face an instant.] If they hadn’t held me back I would have—[Catches herself, looks upstairs where steps are heard, falters weakly]—hurt him.

[In a whisper.] When I was a girl—my kitten—there was a boy who took a hatchet, and right in front of me—and before I could get there—[Covers her face an instant.] If they hadn’t held me back, I would have—[Catches herself, looks upstairs where steps are heard, falters weakly]—hurt him.

Mrs. Hale

[With a slow look around her.] I wonder how it would seem never to have had any children around. [Pause.] No, Wright wouldn’t like the bird—a thing that sang. She used to sing. He killed that, too.

[With a slow look around her.] I wonder what it would be like to never have had any kids around. [Pause.] No, Wright wouldn't like the bird—a creature that sang. She used to sing. He took that away, too.

Mrs. Peters

[Moving uneasily.] We don’t know who killed the bird.

[Shifting restlessly.] We don’t know who killed the bird.

[26]

Mrs. Hale

I knew John Wright.

Mrs. Peters

It was an awful thing was done in this house that night, Mrs. Hale. Killing a man while he slept, slipping a rope around his neck that choked the life out of him.

It was a terrible thing that happened in this house that night, Mrs. Hale. Murdering a man while he slept, slipping a rope around his neck that took his life away.

Mrs. Hale

His neck. Choked the life out of him.

His neck. Squeezed the life out of him.

[Her hand goes out and rests on the bird-cage.

[Her hand reaches out and rests on the birdcage.

Mrs. Peters

[With rising voice.] We don’t know who killed him. We don’t know.

Mrs. Hale

[Her own feeling not interrupted.] If there’d been years and years of nothing, then a bird to sing to you, it would be awful—still, after the bird was still.

[Her own feeling not interrupted.] If there had been years and years of silence, and then a bird started singing to you, it would be terrible—especially after the bird stopped singing.

Mrs. Peters

[Something within her speaking.] I know what stillness is. When we homesteaded in Dakota, and my first baby died—after he was two years old, and me with no other then—

[Something within her speaking.] I know what silence is. When we settled in Dakota, and my first baby passed away—after he was two years old, and I had no other then—

Mrs. Hale

[Moving.] How soon do you suppose they’ll be through, looking for the evidence?

[Moving.] How soon do you think they’ll be done searching for the evidence?

[27]

Mrs. Peters

I know what stillness is. [Pulling herself back.] The law has got to punish crime, Mrs. Hale.

I understand what stillness feels like. [Pulling herself back.] The law must punish crime, Mrs. Hale.

Mrs. Hale

[Not as if answering that.] I wish you’d seen Minnie Foster when she wore a white dress with blue ribbons and stood up there in the choir and sang. [A look around the room.] Oh, I wish I’d come over here once in a while! That was a crime! That was a crime! Who’s going to punish that?

[Not like answering that.] I wish you’d seen Minnie Foster when she wore a white dress with blue ribbons and stood up there in the choir singing. [A look around the room.] Oh, I wish I’d come over here every so often! That was a crime! That was a crime! Who’s going to pay for that?

Mrs. Peters

[Looking upstairs.] We mustn’t—take on.

[Looking upstairs.] We mustn't—take it on.

Mrs. Hale

I might have known she needed help! I know how things can be—for women. I tell you, it’s queer, Mrs. Peters. We live close together and we live far apart. We all go through the same things—it’s all just a different kind of the same thing. [Brushes her eyes, noticing the bottle of fruit, reaches out for it.] If I was you I wouldn’t tell her her fruit was gone. Tell her it ain’t. Tell her it’s all right. Take this in to prove it to her. She—she may never know whether it was broke or not.

I should have realized she needed help! I understand how things can be—for women. It’s strange, Mrs. Peters. We live close to each other yet feel so distant. We all experience the same struggles—it’s just different versions of the same issue. [Wipes her eyes, noticing the bottle of fruit, reaches out for it.] If I were you, I wouldn’t tell her her fruit is gone. Tell her it isn’t. Tell her everything’s fine. Take this in to show her. She—she might never find out if it was broken or not.

Mrs. Peters

[Takes the bottle, looks about for something to wrap it in; takes petticoat from the clothes brought from the other room, very nervously begins winding this around the bottle. In a false voice.] My, it’s a good thing the men couldn’t hear us. Wouldn’t they just[28] laugh! Getting all stirred up over a little thing like a—dead canary. As if that could have anything to do with—with—wouldn’t they laugh!

[Takes the bottle, looks around for something to wrap it in; takes a petticoat from the clothes brought from the other room, very nervously starts winding this around the bottle. In a false voice.] Wow, it's a good thing the guys couldn't hear us. They would just[28] laugh! Getting all worked up over something like a—dead canary. As if that could have anything to do with—with—can you imagine how they’d laugh!

[The men are heard coming down stairs.

[The guys can be heard coming down the stairs.

Mrs. Hale

[Under her breath.] Maybe they would—maybe they wouldn’t.

County Attorney

No, Peters, it’s all perfectly clear except a reason for doing it. But you know juries when it comes to women. If there was some definite thing. Something to show—something to make a story about—a thing that would connect up with this strange way of doing it—

No, Peters, everything is completely clear except for why we're doing it. But you know how juries are when it comes to women. If there was just something specific. Something to demonstrate—something to create a narrative about—a thing that would tie in with this unusual way of doing it—

[The women’s eyes meet for an instant. Enter Hale from outer door.

[The women’s eyes connect for a moment. Enter Hail from the outer door.]

Hale

Well, I’ve got the team around. Pretty cold out there.

Well, I've got the team here. It's pretty cold outside.

County Attorney

I’m going to stay here a while by myself. [To the Sheriff.] You can send Frank out for me, can’t you? I want to go over everything. I’m not satisfied that we can’t do better.

I’m going to stay here alone for a bit. [To the Sheriff.] You can send Frank out for me, right? I want to review everything. I’m not convinced we can’t do better.

Sheriff

Do you want to see what Mrs. Peters is going to take in?

Do you want to see what Mrs. Peters is planning to bring?

[29]

[The Lawyer goes to the table, picks up the apron, laughs.

[The Attorney walks to the table, picks up the apron, and laughs.

County Attorney

Oh, I guess they’re not very dangerous things the ladies have picked out. [Moves a few things about, disturbing the quilt pieces which cover the box. Steps back.] No, Mrs. Peters doesn’t need supervising. For that matter, a sheriff’s wife is married to the law. Ever think of it that way, Mrs. Peters?

Oh, I guess the things the ladies chose aren't too dangerous. [Moves a few things around, messing with the quilt pieces that cover the box. Steps back.] No, Mrs. Peters doesn’t need any supervision. Actually, a sheriff’s wife is connected to the law. Have you ever considered it like that, Mrs. Peters?

Mrs. Peters

Not—just that way.

Not—just like that.

Sheriff

[Chuckling.] Married to the law. [Moves toward the other room.] I just want you to come in here a minute, George. We ought to take a look at these windows.

[Chuckling.] Married to the law. [Moves toward the other room.] I just want you to come in here for a minute, George. We should check out these windows.

County Attorney

[Scoffingly.] Oh, windows!

Oh, windows!

Sheriff

We’ll be right out, Mr. Hale.

We’ll be out in a minute, Mr. Hale.

[30]

[Hale goes outside. The Sheriff follows the County Attorney into the other room. Then Mrs. Hale rises, hands tight together, looking intensely at Mrs. Peters, whose eyes make a slow turn, finally meeting Mrs. Hale’s. A moment Mrs. Hale holds her, then her own eyes point the way to where the box is concealed. Suddenly Mrs. Peters throws back quilt pieces and tries to put the box in the bag she is wearing. It is too big. She opens box, starts to take bird out, cannot touch it, goes to pieces, stands there helpless. Sound of a knob turning in the other room. Mrs. Hale snatches the box and puts it in the pocket of her big coat. Enter County Attorney and Sheriff.

[Hail goes outside. The Sheriff follows the County Attorney into the other room. Then Mrs. Hale gets up, her hands tightly clasped, staring intently at Ms. Peters, whose eyes slowly turn until they finally meet Mrs. Hale's. For a moment, Ms. Hale holds her gaze, then her own eyes indicate where the box is hidden. Suddenly, Ms. Peters throws back some quilt pieces and tries to stuff the box into her bag, but it’s too big. She opens the box, starts to take the bird out, but can't bring herself to do it, and stands there feeling helpless. There's the sound of a doorknob turning in the other room. Mrs. Hale quickly grabs the box and hides it in the pocket of her large coat. County Attorney and Sheriff enter.]

County Attorney

[Facetiously.] Well, Henry, at least we found out that she was not going to quilt it. She was going to—what is it you call it, ladies?

[Facetiously.] Well, Henry, at least we found out that she wasn't going to quilt it. She was going to—what do you call it, ladies?

Mrs. Hale

[Her hand against her pocket.] We call it—knot it, Mr. Henderson.

[Her hand against her pocket.] We call it—tie it up, Mr. Henderson.

(Curtain)

Curtain

[31]

THE PEOPLE
A PLAY IN ONE ACT

THE PEOPLE
A One-Act Play

First performed by the Provincetown Players,
New York, March 9, 1917

ORIGINAL CAST

Edward Wills, Editor of “The People”	George Cram Cook
Oscar Tripp, Associate Editor	Pendleton King
The Artist	Donald Corley
Sara	Nina Moise
Tom Howe, Printer	Lewis B. Ell
The Guy from Georgia	Leslie C. Bemis
The Guy from the Cape	Ira Remsen
The Woman from Idaho	Susan Glaspell
The Serious Approach	Lew Parrish
The Gentle Approach	Pierre Love
The Rebel	Harry Kemp
The Thinker	Hutchinson Collins

[33]

THE PEOPLE

Scene: The office of “The People,” a morning in March, 1917. There is little furniture—a long table strewn with manuscripts and papers, a desk. On the walls are revolutionary posters; wads of paper are thrown about on the floor—the office of a publication which is radical and poor. This is an inner office; at the rear is the door into the outer one. Oscar is seated at the table writing. Tom, a printer who loves the cause—or the crowd—almost enough to print for it, comes from the other room, a galley-proof in his hand.

Scene: The office of “The People,” a morning in March, 1917. There's not much furniture—a long table covered with manuscripts and papers, a desk. The walls are decorated with revolutionary posters; crumpled paper is scattered across the floor—the office of a publication that is both radical and struggling. This is an inner office; at the back is the door to the outer office. Oscar is sitting at the table writing. Tom, a printer who is passionate about the cause—or the crowd—almost enough to print for it, enters from the other room, holding a galley-proof in his hand.

Tom

Why are you writing?

Why are you writing this?

Oscar

[Jauntily.] Because I am a writer.

Confidently. Because I'm a writer.

Tom

But I thought you said there wasn’t going to be another issue of The People.

Oscar

[With dignity.] I am writing.

With dignity. I'm writing.

Tom

There’s a woman here with a suit case.

There’s a woman here with a suitcase.

Oscar

What’s in it?

What’s inside?

[34]

Tom

She wants to see the Editor.

She wants to see the editor.

Oscar

[After writing.] All right.

Okay.

[Tom goes out and a moment later the woman appears. She is middle aged, wears plain clothes not in fashion. Her manner is a little shrinking and yet as she stands in the doorway looking about the bare room, her face is the face of one who has come a long way and reached a wonderful place.

[Tom goes out and a moment later the woman appears. She is middle-aged, wearing plain clothes that are out of style. Her demeanor is a bit timid, yet as she stands in the doorway scanning the empty room, her face reflects someone who has traveled a long distance and arrived at an incredible place.]

The Woman

This is the office of The People?

Oscar

Um-hum.

Uh-huh.

The Woman

[In a bated way.] I came to see the author of those wonderful words.

[In a tense way.] I came to meet the writer of those amazing words.

Oscar

[Rising.] Which wonderful words?

Which amazing words?

The Woman

About moving toward the beautiful distances.

Oscar

Oh. Those are Mr. Wills’ wonderful words.

Oh. Those are Mr. Wills’ amazing words.

[35]

[Begins to write as one who has lost interest.

[Begins to write as someone who has lost interest.]

The Woman

Could I see him?

Can I see him?

Oscar

He isn’t here yet. He’s just back from California. Won’t be at the office till a little later.

He isn't here yet. He just got back from California. He won't be at the office until a little later.

The Woman

[With excitement.] He has been to California? He has just ridden across this country?

[With excitement.] He’s been to California? He just rode across the country?

Oscar

Yes. Long trip. He was very cross over the ’phone.

Yes. Long trip. He was really angry on the phone.

The Woman

Oh—no. I think you’re mistaken.

Oh no, I think you're wrong.

Oscar

Anything you care to see me about?

Is there anything you want to talk to me about?

The Woman

[After considering.] I could see him a little later, couldn’t I?

[After thinking about it.] I could see him a bit later, right?

Oscar

Yes, if its important. Of course he’ll be very busy.

Yes, if it’s important. Of course he’ll be really busy.

The Woman

It is important. At least—yes, it is important.

It matters. At least—yeah, it matters.

Oscar

Very well then—later in the morning.

[36]

The Woman

[Thinking aloud.] I will stand down on the street and watch the people go by.

[Thinking aloud.] I will stand on the street and watch the people walk by.

Oscar

What?

What’s up?

The Woman

The people. It’s so wonderful to see them—so many of them. Don’t you often just stand and watch them?

The people. It’s so great to see them—so many of them. Don’t you often just stop and watch them?

Oscar

No, madam, not often. I am too busy editing a magazine about them.

No, ma'am, not really. I'm too busy editing a magazine about them.

The Woman

Of course you are busy. You help edit this magazine?

Of course you're busy. Do you help edit this magazine?

[Looks about at the posters.

Looks around at the posters.

Oscar

I am associate editor of The People.

I am the associate editor of The People.

The Woman

That’s a great thing for you—and you so young. Does Mr. Wills write in this room?

That’s awesome for you—and you’re so young. Does Mr. Wills write in here?

Oscar

That is his desk.

That's his desk.

The Woman

[Looking at the desk.] It must be a wonderful thing for you to write in the same room with him.

[Looking at the desk.] It must be amazing for you to write in the same room with him.

[37]

Oscar

Well, I don’t know; perhaps it is a wonderful thing for him to—I am Oscar Tripp, the poet.

Well, I’m not sure; maybe it’s a great thing for him to—I’m Oscar Tripp, the poet.

The Woman

[Wistfully.] It would be beautiful to be a poet. [Pause.] I will come back later.

[With a sense of longing.] It would be lovely to be a poet. [Pause.] I’ll return later.

[Picks up suit-case.

Grabs suitcase.

Oscar

Just leave that if you aren’t going to be using it in the meantime.

Just leave that if you’re not going to use it for now.

The Woman

[Putting it down near the door.] Oh, thank you. I see you are a kind young man.

[Putting it down near the door.] Oh, thanks a lot. I can see you’re a nice young man.

Oscar

That is not the general opinion.

That's not the general view.

The Woman

I wonder why it is that the general opinion is so often wrong?

I wonder why the general opinion is often so wrong?

[Stands considering it for a moment, then goes out.

[Stands there thinking about it for a moment, then leaves.]

Oscar

I don’t quite understand that woman.

I don't really get that woman.

[Tom comes back.

Tom's back.

Tom

If this paper can’t go on, I ought to know it. I[38] could get a job on the Evening World. [Oscar continues writing.] Can it go on?

If this paper can’t continue, I need to know. I[38] could get a job at the Evening World. [Oscar keeps writing.] Can it continue?

Oscar

I don’t see how it can, but many a time I haven’t seen how it could—and it did. Doubtless it will go on, and will see days so much worse than these that we will say, “Ah, the good old days of March, 1917.”

I can’t see how it can, but there have been many times I didn’t see how it could—and it did. It will certainly continue, and we’ll experience days so much worse than these that we’ll look back and say, “Ah, the good old days of March, 1917.”

Tom

But can it pay salaries?

But can it cover salaries?

Oscar

[Shocked.] Oh, no, I think not; but we must work because we love our work.

[Shocked.] Oh, no, I don't think so; but we have to work because we love what we do.

Tom

We must eat because we love our food.

We have to eat because we love our food.

Oscar

You’ll know soon. There’s to be a meeting here this morning.

You’ll find out soon. There’s going to be a meeting here this morning.

[Enter Sara. Tom goes into the other room. Sara has the appearance of a young business woman and the simple direct manner of a woman who is ready to work for a thing she believes in.

[Enter Sara. Tom goes into the other room. Sara looks like a young businesswoman, with a straightforward attitude of someone who's ready to put in the effort for something she believes in.]

Sara

Ed not here yet?

Is Ed not here yet?

Oscar

No.

[39]

Sara

Did he get any money?

Did he receive any money?

Oscar

Doesn’t look like it. He was snappish over the phone. Guess he’s for giving it up this time.

Doesn’t seem like it. He was short-tempered on the phone. I guess he’s ready to give it up this time.

Sara

I don’t want to give it up.

I don’t want to let it go.

[She takes a seat at the table where Oscar is writing and unfolds a manuscript she has brought with her.

[She sits down at the table where Oscar is writing and opens a manuscript she brought with her.]

Oscar

Well, it’s not what we want, it’s what people want, and there aren’t enough of them who want us.

Well, it’s not about what we want, it’s about what people want, and there just aren’t enough of them who want us.

Sara

The fault must lie with us.

The blame must be on us.

Oscar

I don’t think so. The fault lies with the failure to—

[The Artist has entered.

The Artist has entered.

Artist

I’ll tell you where the fault lies. We should give more space to pictures and less to stupid reading matter.

I’ll tell you where the problem is. We should make more room for images and less for pointless text.

Oscar

We have given too much expensive white paper to pictures and too little to reading matter—especially to poetry. That’s where the fault lies.

We’ve spent way too much on fancy white paper for images and not enough on actual reading material—especially poetry. That’s where the problem is.

[40]

[Enter Edward Wills, editor.

I’ll tell you where the fault lies. [Points first to The Artist, then to Oscar.] Here! Just this! Everybody plugging for his own thing. Nobody caring enough about the thing as a whole.

I’ll tell you where the problem is. [Points first to The Creator, then to Oscar.] Here! Right here! Everyone pushing for their own agenda. Nobody caring enough about the bigger picture.

Oscar

[Rising.] I’ll tell you where the fault lies. [Points to Ed.] Here! This. The Editor-in-chief returning from a long trip and the first golden words that fall from his lips words of censure for his faithful subordinates.

[Rising.] I’ll tell you where the problem is. [Points to Ed.] Right here! This. The Editor-in-chief comes back from a long trip, and the first words out of his mouth are criticisms for his loyal team.

Sara

How are you Ed?

How's it going, Ed?

Rotten. I hate sleeping cars. I always catch cold.

Rotten. I hate sleeper cars. I always end up catching a cold.

Sara

Any luck?

[His hand around his ear.] What’s the word?

[Enter The Earnest Approach.

Enter The Earnest Approach.

Earnest Approach

Serious Approach

I have heard that you may have to discontinue.

I’ve heard that you might have to stop.

[Sitting down at his desk, beginning to look through his mail.] It seems we might as well.

[Sitting down at his desk, starting to go through his mail.] I guess we might as well.

Earnest Approach

Serious Approach

Now just let me tell you what the trouble has been[41] and how you can remedy it. The People has been afraid of being serious. But you deal with ideas, and you must do it soberly. There is a place for a good earnest journal of protest, but all this levity—this fooling—

Now let me explain what the issue has been[41] and how you can fix it. The People has been hesitant to take things seriously. But you engage with ideas, and you need to approach them seriously. There's definitely a need for a solid, earnest journal of protest, but all this silliness—this joking—

[Enter The Light Touch.

Enter The Light Touch.

Light Touch

Came in to see you, Ed, to say I hope the news I’m hearing isn’t true.

If it’s bad, it’s true.

If it's bad, it's real.

Light Touch

Well, it’s an awful pity, but you’ve been too damn serious. A lighter touch—that’s what The People needs. You’re as heavy as mud. Try it awhile longer along frivolous lines. I was in the building and just ran in to let you have my idea of what’s the matter with you.

Well, it’s really too bad, but you’ve been way too serious. A lighter approach—that’s what The People needs. You’re as heavy as mud. Try keeping it light for a bit longer. I was in the building and just came by to share my thoughts on what’s going on with you.

Oscar

If we had as many subscribers as we have people to tell us what’s the matter with us—

If we had as many subscribers as we have people telling us what's wrong with us—

[Enter Philosopher and Firebrand, Tom follows them in, a page of manuscript in his hand.

[Enter Philosopher and Rebel, Tom follows them in, holding a page of manuscript.

Now the Philosopher and the Firebrand will tell us what’s the matter with us.

Now the Philosopher and the Firebrand will tell us what’s wrong with us.

Firebrand

Too damn bourgeois! You should print on the[42] cover of every issue—“To hell with the bourgeoisie!” Pigs!

Too damn bourgeois! You should print on the[42] cover of every issue—“Forget the bourgeoisie!” Pigs!

Philosopher

The trouble with this paper is efficiency.

The problem with this paper is efficiency.

[This is too much for all of them. The Printer falls back against the wall, then staggers from the room.

This is way too much for all of them. The Printer leans back against the wall, then stumbles out of the room.

Dear God! There are things it seems to me I can not bear.

Dear God! There are things that I feel I just cannot handle.

Philosopher

It should be more carelessly done, and then it would be more perfectly done. You should be less definite, and you would have more definiteness. You should not know what it is you want, and then you would find what you are after.

It should be done more casually, and then it would be done more perfectly. You should be less certain, and you would have more clarity. You shouldn’t know exactly what you want, and then you would discover what you’re looking for.

Oscar

You talk as if we had not been a success. But just last night I heard of a woman in Bronxville who keeps The People under her bed so her husband won’t know she’s reading it.

You talk like we weren't a success. But just last night, I heard about a woman in Bronxville who keeps The People under her bed so her husband won't find out she's reading it.

Firebrand

If you had been a success you would have fired that woman with so great a courage that she would proudly prop The People on the pillow!

If you had been successful, you would have fired that woman with such confidence that she would proudly support The People on the pillow!

Artist

[Who is sketching The Firebrand.] It was my pictures got us under the bed.

[Who is sketching The Blaze.] It was my pictures that made us hide under the bed.

[43]

Oscar

[Haughtily.] I was definitely told it was my last “Talk with God” put us under the bed.

[Haughtily.] I was definitely told it was my last "Talk with God" that put us under the bed.

Firebrand

Can you not see that she puts you under the bed because you yourselves have made concessions to the bourgeoisie? Cows! Geese!

Can’t you see that she puts you under the bed because you’ve made compromises with the bourgeoisie? Cows! Geese!

Artist

It must be more frivolous!

Make it more fun!

Oscar

It must print more poetry.

It should publish more poetry.

[They glare at one another.

They stare at each other.

Earnest Approach

Serious Approach

It should be more serious.

Make it more serious.

Light Touch

It must be more frivolous!

It needs to be more fun!

[Enter The Boy from Georgia—dressed like a freshman with a good allowance.

[Enter The Kid from Georgia—dressed like a college freshman with a decent allowance.

The Boy

Is this the office of The People?

Oscar

No, this is a lunatic asylum.

No, this is a mental health facility.

The Boy

The Kid

[After a bewildered moment.] Oh, you’re joking.[44] You know [Confidentially], I wondered about that—whether you would joke here. I thought you would. [Stepping forward.] I came to see the Editor—I want to tell him—

[After a confused moment.] Oh, you’re kidding.[44] You know [Just between us], I was curious about that—whether you would joke around here. I figured you would. [Moving closer.] I came to see the Editor—I want to tell him—

So many people are telling me so many things, could you tell yours a little later?

So many people are sharing their thoughts with me, could you share yours a little later?

The Boy

Oh, yes. Of course there must be many important things people have to tell you.

Oh, yes. There must be so many important things people need to tell you.

Well—many.

Well—lots.

[The Boy goes out—reluctantly.

The Boy goes out—unwillingly.

Artist

[Who has all the time been glaring at Oscar.] Speaking for the artists, I want to say right now—

[Who has always been staring at Oscar.] Speaking for the artists, I want to say right now—

Oscar

Speaking for the writers, I wish to say before we go further—

Speaking for the writers, I want to say before we go any further—

Earnest Approach

Serious Approach

A more serious approach—

Light Touch

A lighter touch—

A softer approach—

Firebrand

Speaking for myself—

[45]

Philosopher

Speaking for the truth—

Speaking the truth—

[Phone rings, Oscar answers. Enter The Man from the Cape—slow, heavy.

[Phone rings, Oscar answers. Enter The Guy from the Cape—slow, heavy.

You have come to tell us something about this paper?

Are you here to tell us something about this paper?

The Man

Yes.

There are a number ahead of you. Will you wait your turn? [A look of disappointment.] I’ll be glad to see you as soon as I can. There in the outside office?

There are a few people in line before you. Will you wait your turn? [A look of disappointment.] I’ll be happy to see you as soon as I can. Over in the waiting area?

[A moment The Man stands there, a mute ponderous figure, then very slowly goes out.

[A moment The Guy stands there, a silent, heavy figure, then very slowly walks away.

Oscar

[Hanging up receiver.] Moritz Paper Company. Bill got to be paid today. And here—

[Hanging up receiver.] Moritz Paper Company. Bill needs to be paid today. And here—

[Takes from his drawer a huge packet of bills.

[Takes a large stack of cash from his drawer.]

Earnest Approach

Serious Approach

You could pay your bills if you were not afraid to be serious!

You could pay your bills if you weren't scared to take things seriously!

Light Touch

Gentle Touch

You could pay your bills if you were not afraid to be gay!

You could pay your bills if you weren't afraid to be gay!

[46]

Earnest Approach

Serious Approach

[From the door, solemnly.] A more earnest approach would save The People.

[From the door, seriously.] A more serious approach would save The People.

Light Touch

Subtle Approach

A lighter touch would turn the trick!

A gentler approach would do the job!

[With that they leave.

They leave.

Firebrand

[Going over and pounding on The Editor’s desk.] To hell with the bourgeoisie! Apes!

[Going over and pounding on The Editor's desk.] Forget the middle class! They're a bunch of fools!

Philosopher

Efficiency has put out the spark.

Efficiency has taken away the excitement.

Well, as long as the spark appears to be good and out, may I, in the name of efficiency, ask you who do not belong here to retire, that we may go ahead with our work?

Well, as long as the spark seems to be good and out, may I, for the sake of efficiency, ask those of you who do not belong here to leave, so we can proceed with our work?

Philosopher

There would be greater efficiency in our remaining. There would be form. You have lacked form.

There would be greater efficiency in our staying. There would be structure. You have lacked structure.

Firebrand

Firestarter

You have lacked courage! Donkeys!

You haven't shown courage! Donkeys!

It would be illuminating, Leo, to hear you run through the animal kingdom—toads, crocodiles, a number of things you haven’t mentioned yet, but the animal kingdom is large—and we have work to do.

It would be great, Leo, to hear you go through the animal kingdom—like toads, crocodiles, and a bunch of things you haven't talked about yet. The animal kingdom is vast—and we have work to do.

[47]

Philosopher

You lack form in your work. By form I do not mean what you think I mean. I mean that particular significance of the insignificant which is the fundamental—

You lack structure in your work. By structure, I don’t mean what you think I mean. I mean that specific importance of the trivial, which is the essential—

We couldn’t understand it. Why tell us?

We couldn't get it. Why bother telling us?

Philosopher

No. You couldn’t understand it.

No. You wouldn't get it.

[He leaves them to their fate.

He leaves them to their destiny.

Firebrand

Rest in peace. [Gesture of benediction. Then hissingly.] Centipedes!

Rest in peace. [Gesture of blessing. Then hissing.] Centipedes!

[He goes—leaving a laugh behind him.

He leaves, taking his laughter with him.

What’s the matter with us is our friends.

What’s wrong with us is our friends.

Sara

[Quietly.] Well, to be or not to be. I guess it’s up to you, Ed.

Just what would we be going on for? To make a few more people like the dear ones who have just left us? Seems to me we could best serve society by not doing that. Precisely what do we do?—aside from getting under the bed in Bronxville. Now and then something particularly rotten is put over and we have a story that gets a rise out of a few people, but—we don’t change anything.

Just what are we doing this for? To make a few more people like the ones we just lost? It seems to me we could do more for society by not doing that. What exactly do we do?—other than hiding under the bed in Bronxville. Occasionally, something really outrageous happens, and we get a reaction from a few people, but—we don’t change anything.

[48]

Sara

We had another hope. We were going to express ourselves so simply and so truly that we would be expressing the people.

We had another hope. We were going to express ourselves so simply and so genuinely that we would be expressing the people.

[Wearily.] The People. I looked at them all the way across this continent. Oh, I got so tired looking at them—on farms, in towns, in cities. They’re like toys that you wind up and they’ll run awhile. They don’t want to be expressed. It would topple them over. The longer I looked the more ridiculous it seemed to me that we should be giving our lives to—[Picks up the magazine and reads.] The People—“A Journal of the Social Revolution.” Certainly we’d better cut the sub-title. The social revolution is dead.

[Wearily.] The People. I looked at them all the way across this continent. Oh, I got so tired looking at them—on farms, in towns, in cities. They’re like toys that you wind up and they’ll run for a while. They don’t want to be expressed. It would knock them over. The longer I looked, the more ridiculous it seemed to me that we should be giving our lives to—[Picks up the magazine and reads.] The People—“A Journal of the Social Revolution.” We’d definitely better drop the sub-title. The social revolution is dead.

Oscar

You don’t think you are bringing back any news, do you, Ed?

You don't think you're bringing back any news, do you, Ed?

Artist

[Taking up magazine.] Instead of a sub-title we could have a design. Much better.

[Taking up magazine.] Instead of a subtitle, we could use a design. That’s much better.

[Glares at Oscar, then begins to draw.

[Glares at Oscar, then starts to draw.

Sara

This is a long way from what you felt a year ago, Ed. You had vision then.

This is really different from what you felt a year ago, Ed. You had a clear vision back then.

You can’t keep vision in this office. It’s easy enough to have a beautiful feeling about the human race[49] when none of it is around. The trouble about doing anything for your fellow-man is that you have to do it with a few of them. Oh, of course that isn’t fair. We care. I’ll say that for us. Even Oscar cares, or he wouldn’t work the way he has. But what does our caring come to? It doesn’t connect up with anything, and God knows it doesn’t seem to be making anything very beautiful of us. There’s something rather pathetic about us.

You can’t keep a vision in this office. It’s easy to feel a sense of beauty about humanity when there’s no one around. The problem with trying to do something for your fellow humans is that you have to do it with just a few of them. Oh, of course that isn’t fair. We care. I’ll give us that. Even Oscar cares, or he wouldn’t work the way he does. But what does our caring amount to? It doesn’t connect to anything, and God knows it doesn’t seem to be making us any more beautiful. There’s something kind of sad about us.

Oscar

Or is it merely ridiculous?

Or is it just ridiculous?

Sara

Let me read you something, Ed. [She takes The People and reads very simply.] “We are living now. We shall not be living long. No one can tell us we shall live again. This is our little while. This is our chance. And we take it like a child who comes from a dark room to which he must return—comes for one sunny afternoon to a lovely hillside, and finding a hole, crawls in there till after the sun is set. I want that child to know the sun is shining upon flowers in the grass. I want him to know it before he has to go back to the room that is dark. I wish I had pipes to call him to the hilltop of beautiful distances. I myself could see farther if he were seeing at all. Perhaps I can tell you: you who have dreamed and dreaming know, and knowing care. Move! Move from the things that hold you. If you move, others will move. Come! Now. Before the sun goes down.” [Very quietly.] You wrote that, Ed.

Let me read you something, Ed. [She takes The People and reads very simply.] “We are living right now. We won’t be living for long. No one can say we’ll live again. This is our short time. This is our opportunity. And we take it like a child who has come from a dark room they have to return to—comes for one sunny afternoon to a beautiful hillside, and finding a hole, crawls in there until after the sun has set. I want that child to know the sun is shining on the flowers in the grass. I want him to know it before he has to go back to the dark room. I wish I had pipes to call him to the hilltop of beautiful views. I could see further if he were seeing at all. Maybe I can tell you: you who have dreamed and dreaming know, and knowing care. Move! Move from the things that hold you back. If you move, others will move. Come! Now. Before the sun goes down.” [Very quietly.] You wrote that, Ed.

[50]

Yes, I wrote it; and do you want to know why I wrote it? I wrote it because I was sore at Oscar and wanted to write something to make him feel ashamed of himself.

Yes, I wrote it; and do you want to know why I wrote it? I wrote it because I was upset with Oscar and wanted to write something to make him feel ashamed of himself.

[While Sara is reading, The Woman has appeared at the door, has moved a few steps into the room as if drawn by the words she is hearing. Behind her are seen The Boy from Georgia, The Man from the Cape.

[While Sara is reading, The Woman has appeared at the door, stepped a little into the room as if pulled in by the words she is hearing. Behind her are The Kid from Georgia and The Guy from the Cape.]

The Woman

[Moving forward.] I don’t believe that’s true! I don’t believe that’s true! Maybe you think that’s why you wrote it, but it’s not the reason. You wrote it because it’s the living truth, and it moved in you and you had to say it.

[Moving forward.] I don’t think that’s true! I really don’t believe that! Maybe you think that’s why you wrote it, but that’s not the reason. You wrote it because it’s the real truth, and it resonated with you, and you had to express it.

[Rising.] Who are you?

The Woman

I am one of the people. I have lived a long way off. I heard that call and—I had to come.

I’m just one of the people. I’ve lived a long way from here. I heard that call, and I had to respond.

The Boy

The Kid

[Blithely.] I’ve come too. I’m from Georgia. I read it, and I didn’t want to stay at school any longer. I said, “I want something different and bigger—something more like this.” I heard about your not being able to sell your paper on the newsstands just because lots of people don’t want anything different[51] and bigger, and I said to myself, “I’ll sell the paper! I’ll go and sell it on the streets!” And I got so excited about it that I didn’t even wait for the dance. There was a dance that night, and I had my girl too.

[Blithely.] I’ve joined in too. I’m from Georgia. I read it, and I didn’t want to stay in school any longer. I said, “I want something different and bigger—something more like this.” I heard about how you can't sell your paper on newsstands just because a lot of people don’t want anything different[51] and bigger, and I thought to myself, “I’ll sell the paper! I’ll go sell it on the streets!” I got so excited about it that I didn’t even wait for the dance. There was a dance that night, and I had my girl too.

The Woman

He didn’t even wait for the dance.

He didn't even wait for the dance.

Oscar

The idealists are calling upon the intellectuals, and “calling” them.

The idealists are reaching out to the intellectuals and “calling” on them.

[To The Man.] And what did you leave, my friend?

[To The Guy.] So, what did you leave behind, my friend?

The Man

[Heavily.] My oyster bed. I’m from the Cape. I had a chance to go in on an oyster bed. I read what you wrote—a woman who had stopped in an automobile left it, and I said to myself, “I’m nothing but an oyster myself. Guess I’ll come to life.”

[Heavily.] My oyster bed. I’m from Cape Cod. I had a chance to get involved with an oyster bed. I read what you wrote—about a woman who pulled up in a car, left it, and I thought to myself, “I’m just like an oyster. I guess I’ll come to life.”

But—what did you come here for?

The Man

Well—for the rest of it.

Well—for the remainder of it.

The rest of what?

The Man

The rest of what you’ve got.

The rest of what you have.

[52]

The Boy

The Kid

Yes—that’s it; we’ve come for the rest of what you’ve got.

Yes—that's it; we're here for the rest of what you have.

Oscar

This is awkward for Ed.

This is uncomfortable for Ed.

The Woman

Give it to us.

What?

What’s up?

The Woman

The rest of it.

[An instant’s pause.] I haven’t got anything more to give.

[A brief pause.] I don’t have anything more to offer.

The Boy

The Kid

But you made us think you had. You led us to believe you had.

But you made us think you had. You led us to believe that you had.

The Woman

And you have. If you hadn’t more to give, you couldn’t have given that.

And you have. If you didn’t have more to give, you wouldn’t have been able to give that.

Oscar

Very awkward.

Super awkward.

The Woman

You said—“I call to you. You who have dreamed, and dreaming know, and knowing care.” Well, three of us are here. From the South and the East and the West we’ve come because you made us want something we didn’t have, made us want it so much we[53] had to move the way we thought was toward it—before the sun goes down.

You said—“I call to you. You who have dreamed, and dreaming know, and knowing care.” Well, three of us are here. We’ve come from the South, the East, and the West because you made us desire something we didn’t have, made us want it so much we[53] had to move in the direction we thought would lead us to it—before the sun sets.

The Boy

The Kid

We thought people here had life—something different and bigger.

We thought people here had a life—something different and more significant.

Oscar

Perhaps we’d better go. Poor Ed.

Perhaps we should head out. Poor Ed.

I wish you’d shut up, Oscar.

I wish you’d be quiet, Oscar.

The Woman

I know you will give it to us.

I know you'll give it to us.

Give what to you?

Give what to you?

The Woman

What you have for the people. [Oscar coughs.] What you made us know we need.

What you have for the people. [Oscar coughs.] What you've shown us that we need.

Oscar

You shouldn’t have called personally. You should have sent in your needs by mail.

You shouldn't have called directly. You should have sent your requests by mail.

Oscar, try and act as if you had a soul.

Oscar, try to act like you have a soul.

The Woman

I think he really has. [A look at Oscar—then, warmly.] At least he has a heart. It’s only that he[54] feels he must be witty. But you—you’re not going to let us just go away again, are you? He gave up his oyster bed, and this boy didn’t even wait for the dance, and me—I gave up my tombstone.

I think he really has. [A look at Oscar—then, warmly.] At least he has a heart. It’s just that he[54] thinks he has to be clever all the time. But you—you’re not going to let us just leave again, right? He gave up his oyster bed, and this guy didn’t even wait for the dance, and I—I gave up my tombstone.

Your—?

The Woman

Yes—tombstone. It had always been a saying in our family—“He won’t even have a stone to mark his grave.” They said it so much that I thought it meant something. I sew—plain sewing, but I’ve often said to myself—“Well, at least I’ll have a stone to mark my grave.” And then, there was a man who had been making speeches to the miners—I live in a town in Idaho—and he had your magazine, and he left it in the store, and the storekeeper said to me, when I went there for thread—“Here, you like to read. Don’t you want this? I wish you’d take it away, because if some folks in this town see it, they’ll think I’m not all I should be.” He meant the cover.

Yes—tombstone. It had always been a saying in our family—“He won’t even have a stone to mark his grave.” They said it so much that I thought it meant something. I sew—plain sewing, but I’ve often told myself—“Well, at least I’ll have a stone to mark my grave.” Then, there was a man who had been giving speeches to the miners—I live in a town in Idaho—and he had your magazine, and he left it in the store. The storekeeper said to me when I went there for thread—“Here, you like to read. Don’t you want this? I wish you’d take it away because if some people in this town see it, they’ll think I’m not all I should be.” He meant the cover.

Artist

[Brightening.] That was my cover.

[Brightening.] That was my disguise.

The Woman

[After a smile at The Artist.] So I took it home, and when my work was done that night, I read your wonderful words. They’re like a spring—if you’ve lived in a dry country, you’ll know what I mean. And they made me know that my tombstone was as dead as—well, [With a little laugh] as dead as a tombstone. So I had to have something to take its place.

[After a smile at The Creator.] So I took it home, and when I finished my work that night, I read your amazing words. They’re like a spring—if you’ve lived in a dry place, you’ll understand what I mean. And they made me realize that my tombstone was as lifeless as—well, [With a little laugh] as lifeless as a tombstone. So I needed to find something to replace it.

[55]

Sara

[Rising and going to The Woman.] Talk to him. Tell him about it. Come, Oscar!

[Rising and going to The Woman.] Talk to him. Tell him about it. Come on, Oscar!

The Boy

The Kid

As long as there seems to be so much uncertainty about this, perhaps I’d better telegraph father. You see, the folks don’t know where I am. I just came.

As long as there’s so much uncertainty about this, maybe I should just text Dad. You see, my family doesn’t know where I am. I just showed up.

The Woman

He didn’t even stay for the dance.

He didn't even stick around for the dance.

The Boy

The Kid

I’ll be glad to sell the papers. [Seeing a pile of them on the table.] Here, shall I take these?—and I’ll stop people on the street and tell why I’m selling them.

I’d be happy to sell the papers. [Noticing a stack of them on the table.] Can I take these?—and I’ll approach people on the street and explain why I’m selling them.

Oscar

No, you can’t do that. You’d be arrested.

No, you can't do that. You'd get arrested.

The Woman

Let him sell them. What’s the difference about the law, if you have the right idea?

Let him sell them. What's the difference with the law, if you have the right idea?

Oscar

The right idea has given us trouble enough already.

The right idea has already caused us plenty of trouble.

The Man

There’s something sure about an oyster bed.

There’s definitely something reliable about an oyster bed.

Oscar

You come with me and have a drink. Something sure about that too.

You come with me and have a drink. There’s definitely something to that too.

[56]

The Woman

He could have had a drink at home.

Sara

[To Artist.] Coming, Joe? [To The Boy.] It was corking of you to want to help us. We must talk about—

[To Creator.] Are you coming, Joe? [To The Kid.] It was really great of you to want to help us. We need to talk about—

[All go out except The Woman and The Editor. A Pause.

[Everyone leaves except The Woman and The Editor. A Pause.

The Woman

I am sorry for you.

I'm sorry for you.

Why?

The Woman

[Feeling her way and sadly.] Because you have the brain to say those things, and not the spirit to believe them. I couldn’t say them, and yet I’ve got something you haven’t got. [With more sureness.] Because I know the thing you said was true.

[Feeling her way and sadly.] You might have the mind to express those thoughts, but you lack the heart to really believe them. I couldn’t say those things, yet I possess something you don’t have. [With more sureness.] Because I know what you said is true.

Will you sit down?

Can you take a seat?

The Woman

No—I’ll go. [Stands there uncertainly.] I don’t know why I should be disappointed. I suppose it’s not fair to ask you to be as big as the truth you saw. Why should I expect you would be?

No—I’ll go. [Stands there uncertainly.] I don’t know why I should feel disappointed. I guess it’s not fair to expect you to match the truth you experienced. Why should I think you would?

I’m sorry. I suppose now you’ll regret your tombstone.

I’m sorry. I guess now you’ll regret your gravestone.

[57]

The Woman

No—it was wonderful to ride across this country and see all the people. The train moving along seemed to make something move in me. I had thoughts not like any thoughts I’d ever had before—your words like a spring breaking through the dry country of my mind. I thought of how you call your paper “A Journal of The Social Revolution,” and I said to myself—This is the Social Revolution! Knowing that your tombstone doesn’t matter! Seeing—that’s the Social Revolution.

No—it was amazing to travel across this country and see all the people. The train gliding along seemed to stir something within me. I had thoughts unlike any I’d ever experienced before—your words like a spring breaking through the parched land of my mind. I thought about how you call your paper “A Journal of The Social Revolution,” and I told myself—This is the Social Revolution! Realizing that your tombstone doesn’t matter! Seeing—that’s the Social Revolution.

Seeing—?

The Woman

[As if it is passing before her.] A plain, dark trees off at the edge, against the trees a little house and a big barn. A flat piece of land fenced in. Stubble, furrows. Horses waiting to get in at the barn; cows standing around a pump. A tile yard, a water tank, one straight street of a little town. The country so still it seems dead. The trees like—hopes that have been given up. The grave yards—on hills—they come so fast. I noticed them first because of my tombstone, but I got to thinking about the people—the people who spent their whole lives right near the places where they are now. There’s something in the thought of them—like the cows standing around the pump. So still, so patient, it—kind of hurts. And their pleasures:—a flat field fenced in. Your great words carried me to other great words. I thought of Lincoln, and what he said of a few of the dead. I said it over and over. I said things and[58] didn’t know the meaning of them ’till after I had said them. I said—“The truth—the truth—the truth that opens from our lives as water opens from the rocks.” Then I knew what that truth was. [Pause, with an intensity peculiarly simple.] “Let us here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.” I mean—all of them. [A gesture, wide, loving.] Let life become what it may become!—so beautiful that everything that is back of us is worth everything it cost.

[As if it's passing in front of her.] A simple, dark tree line at the edge, with a small house and a big barn against it. A flat piece of land surrounded by a fence. Stubble, furrows. Horses waiting to get into the barn; cows gathered around a pump. A tiled yard, a water tank, one straight street of a small town. The countryside is so quiet it feels lifeless. The trees are like—hopes that have faded away. The graveyards—on hills—they appear so quickly. I noticed them first because of my tombstone, but then I started thinking about the people—the ones who spent their entire lives close to where they are now. There’s something about that thought—like the cows waiting by the pump. So still, so patient, it—kind of hurts. And their joys:—a flat field surrounded by a fence. Your big words carried me to other big words. I thought of Lincoln and what he said about a few of the dead. I repeated it over and over. I said things and[58] didn’t understand the meaning until after I had said them. I said—“The truth—the truth—the truth that flows from our lives like water from the rocks.” Then I realized what that truth was. [Pause, with a uniquely simple intensity.] “Let us here firmly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.” I mean—all of them. [A broad, loving gesture.] Let life become whatever it’s meant to be!—so beautiful that everything behind us is worth what it cost.

[Enter Tom.

Tom

I’ve got—[Feeling something unusual.] Sorry to butt in, but I can still get that job on The Evening World. If this paper is going to stop, I’ve got to know it.

I’ve got—[Feeling something unusual.] Sorry to interrupt, but I can still get that job at The Evening World. If this paper is shutting down, I need to know.

Stop! This paper can’t stop!

Stop! This paper won’t stop!

Tom

Can’t stop! Last I heard, it couldn’t do anything else.

Can’t stop! The last I heard, it couldn’t do anything else.

That was—long ago.

That was a long time ago.

Tom

Oh—you’ve got something to go on with?

Oh—you have something to work with?

Yes, something to go on with.

Yes, something to move forward with.

[59]

Tom

I see. [Looks at woman, as if he doesn’t see, glances at her suit-case.] I’m glad. But—I’ve got to be sure. This—is the truth?

I see. [Looks at the woman, as if he doesn’t see, glances at her suitcase.] I’m glad. But—I need to be sure. This—is the truth?

The truth. The truth that opens from our lives as water opens from the rocks.

The truth. The truth that flows from our lives like water flows from the rocks.

[Tom backs up.

Tom retreats.

The Woman

[Turning a shining face to The Printer.] Nobody really needs a tombstone!

(Curtain)

Curtain

[61]

CLOSE THE BOOK
A COMEDY IN ONE ACT

CLOSE THE BOOK
A One-Act Comedy

First Performed by the Provincetown Players,
New York, Nov. 2, 1917

First performed by the Provincetown Players,
New York, Nov. 2, 1917

ORIGINAL CAST

Jhansi	Edith Unger
Peyton Root, an Instructor in the University	James Light
Ms. Root, Peyton's Mother	Susan Glaspell
Ms. Peyton, His Grandmother	Clara Savage
Uncle George Peyton, President of the Board of Regents	Justus Sheffield
Bessie Root	Alice MacDougal
Senator Byrd	David Carbs
Senator Byrd	Esther Pinch

[63]

CLOSE THE BOOK

Scene: The library in the Root home, the library of middle-western people who are an important family in their community, a university town, and who think of themselves as people of culture. It is a room which shows pride of family: on the rear wall are two large family portraits—one a Revolutionary soldier, the other a man of a later period. On the low book-cases, to both sides of door rear, and on the mantel, right, are miniatures and other old pictures. There is old furniture—mahogany recently done over: an easy chair near the fireplace, a divan left. A Winged Victory presides over one of the book-cases, a Burne Jones is hung. It is a warmly lighted, cheerful room—books and flowers about. At the rear is a door opening on the hall, at the left a door into another room. There is a corner window at the right. Jhansi and Peyton are seated on the divan. Mrs. Root is just going into the hall. She seems perturbed. Jhansi is dressed as a non-conformist, but attractively. Peyton is a rather helpless young man, with a sense of humor that is itself rather helpless.

Scene: The library in the Root household, belonging to a prominent family in their university town, who pride themselves on their cultural status. The room reflects their family pride: on the back wall are two large portraits—one of a Revolutionary soldier and the other of a man from a later era. On the low bookcases flanking the rear door and on the mantel to the right are miniatures and other old photographs. The furniture is vintage mahogany that has been recently restored: there's a comfy chair by the fireplace and a divan on the left. A Winged Victory statue overlooks one of the bookcases, and a Burne-Jones painting is hung on the wall. The room is warmly lit and cheerful, filled with books and flowers. At the back, a door leads to the hall, and to the left, there's another door that opens into a different room. A corner window is situated on the right. Jhansi and Peyton are seated on the divan. Ms. Root is just stepping into the hall, looking unsettled. Jhansi is dressed in a stylishly non-conformist way. Peyton appears to be a somewhat ineffectual young man, with a sense of humor that's also pretty awkward.

Mrs. Root

I’ll see, Peyton, if your grandmother isn’t ready to come down.

I’ll check, Peyton, to see if your grandma is ready to come down.

[She leaves them.

She walks away from them.

Jhansi

[Springing up.] It’s absurd that I should be here!

[Springing up.] It's ridiculous that I should be here!

[64]

Peyton

I know, Jhansi, but just this once—as long as it means so much to mother, and doesn’t really hurt us.

I get it, Jhansi, but just this once—if it means so much to mom and doesn’t actually hurt us.

Jhansi

But it does hurt me, Peyton. These walls stifle me. You come of people who have been walled in all their lives. It doesn’t cage you. But me—I am a gypsy! Sometimes I feel them right behind me—all those wanderers, people who were never caught; feel them behind me pushing me away from all this!

But it really hurts me, Peyton. These walls confine me. You come from a family that has been trapped like this for generations. It doesn’t restrict you. But me—I’m a free spirit! Sometimes I can feel them right behind me—all those wanderers, people who were never trapped; I sense them behind me urging me to move away from all this!

Peyton

But not pushing you away from me, dear. You love me, Jhansi, in spite of my family?

But you're not pushing me away, dear. Do you love me, Jhansi, despite my family?

Jhansi

If I didn’t love you do you think I could endure to come to this dreadful place? [A look about the comfortable room]—and meet these dreadful people? Forgive me for alluding to your home and family, Peyton, but I must not lose my honesty, you know.

If I didn’t love you, do you really think I could stand to be in this awful place? [A look about the comfortable room]—and deal with these terrible people? Sorry for bringing up your home and family, Peyton, but I can’t let go of my honesty, you know.

Peyton

No, dear; I don’t think you are losing it. And perhaps I’d better not lose mine either. There’s one thing I haven’t mentioned yet. [Hesitates.] Mr. Peyton is coming to dinner tonight.

No, dear; I don’t think you’re losing your mind. And maybe I shouldn’t lose mine either. There’s one thing I haven’t mentioned yet. [Hesitates.] Mr. Peyton is coming to dinner tonight.

Jhansi

Mr. Peyton. What Peyton?

Mr. Peyton. What Peyton?

[65]

Peyton

Yes—that one.

Jhansi

And you ask me—standing for the things I do in this university—to sit down to dinner with the president of the board of regents!

And you ask me—representing what I stand for at this university—to have dinner with the president of the board of regents!

Peyton

Mother’d asked him before I knew it.

Mother had asked him before I even realized it.

Jhansi

[With scorn.] Your uncle!

With disdain. Your uncle!

Peyton

He’s not my uncle—he’s mother’s. And you see it’s partly on account of grandmother just getting back from California. He’s grandmother’s brother-in-law, you know. I suppose she doesn’t realize what it means to have to sit down to dinner with him—she’s done it so much. And then mother thought it would be nice for you to meet him.

He's not my uncle—he's my mom's. And you see, it's partly because grandma just got back from California. He's grandma's brother-in-law, you know. I guess she doesn't really understand what it means to have to have dinner with him—she's done it so often. And then mom thought it would be nice for you to meet him.

Jhansi

Nice!

Awesome!

Peyton

He’s pleasant at dinner.

He's nice at dinner.

Jhansi

Pleasant!

Nice!

Peyton

Mother’s a little worried about my position in the university.

Mother’s a bit concerned about my standing at the university.

[66]

Jhansi

It would be wonderful for you to lose your position in the university.

It would be great for you to lose your job at the university.

Peyton

Yes—wonderful.

Yes—awesome.

Jhansi

And then you and I could walk forth free!

And then you and I could walk out freely!

Peyton

Free—but broke.

Broke but free.

Jhansi

Peyton, you disappoint me. Just the fact that that man is coming to dinner changes you.

Peyton, you let me down. Just the fact that guy is coming to dinner changes you.

Peyton

Oh, no. But you are fortunately situated, Jhansi, having no people. It’s easier to be free when there’s nobody who minds.

Oh, no. But you’re in a good spot, Jhansi, since there are no people around. It’s easier to be free when there’s no one to care.

Jhansi

I am going!

I'm going!

Peyton

Oh come now, dearest, you can’t go when you’re expected for dinner. Nobody’s that free.

Oh come on, sweetheart, you can’t leave when you’re expected for dinner. No one is that available.

Jhansi

Dinner! A dinner to celebrate our engagement! It’s humiliating, Peyton. I should take you by the hand and you and I should walk together down the open road.

Dinner! A dinner to celebrate our engagement! It’s so embarrassing, Peyton. I should take your hand, and we should walk together down the open road.

[67]

Peyton

We will, Jhansi; we will—in time.

Jhansi

We should go now.

Let's go now.

Peyton

Think so? Mother’s going to have turkey.

Think so? Mom's going to have turkey.

Jhansi

Better a dinner of berries and nuts—!

Better to have a dinner of berries and nuts—!

Peyton

We’ll have berries—cranberries, and nuts, too.

We’ll have berries—cranberries and nuts as well.

Jhansi

Where is my coat?

Where's my coat?

Peyton

[Seizing her and kissing her.] Some day, serene and unhampered, we’ll take to the open road—a road with berries and nuts.

[Grabbing her and kissing her.] One day, calm and free, we’ll hit the open road—a road with berries and nuts.

[Grandmother Peyton and Mrs. Root are at the door.

[Grandma Peyton and Ms. Root are at the door.

Mrs. Root

Mother, this is Peyton’s friend Miss Mason. One of our important students.

Mother, this is Peyton's friend, Miss Mason. She's one of our key students.

Grandmother

Grandma

[In her brittle way.] Yes? I never was a very important student myself. I didn’t like to study. Because my family were professors, I suppose.

[In her brittle way.] Yes? I was never really an important student myself. I didn’t enjoy studying. I guess it’s because my family were professors.

[68]

Mrs. Root

Peyton’s grandmother is a descendant of Gustave Phelps—one of the famous teachers of pioneer days.

Peyton’s grandmother is a descendant of Gustave Phelps—one of the well-known teachers from the pioneer era.

Jhansi

[Her head going up.] I am a descendant of people who never taught anybody anything!

[Her head going up.] I come from a lineage of people who never taught anyone anything!

Peyton

Jhansi and I were just going to finish an article on Free Speech which must get to the Torch this evening.

Jhansi and I were just about to finish an article on Free Speech that needs to be sent to the Torch this evening.

Grandmother

Grandma

[Moving toward the big chair near the fire.] Free Speech? How amusing.

[Moving toward the big chair near the fire.] Free speech? How funny.

Peyton

You may be less amused some day, grandmother.

You might not find this as funny one day, grandma.

[Jhansi and Peyton go into the other room.

Jhansi and Peyton go into the other room.

Grandmother

Grandma

That may be a free speech. I wouldn’t call it a pleasant one.

That might be free speech, but I wouldn't say it's a nice one.

Mrs. Root

[Sinking to the divan.] Oh, he was speaking of the open road again—berries and nuts—!

[Sinking into the couch.] Oh, he was talking about the open road again—berries and nuts—!

Grandmother

Grandma

[Beginning to knit.] Berries and nuts? Well, it[69] sounds quite innocuous to me. Some of our young people are less simple in their tastes.

[Beginning to knit.] Berries and nuts? Well, it[69] sounds pretty harmless to me. Some of our younger crowd have more sophisticated tastes.

Mrs. Root

[In great distress.] Mother, how would you like to see your grandson become a gypsy?

[In great distress.] Mom, how would you feel about your grandson becoming a gypsy?

Grandmother

Grandma

Peyton a gypsy? You mean in a carnival?

Peyton a gypsy? Like, at a carnival?

Mrs. Root

No, not in a carnival! In life.

Grandmother

Grandma

But he isn’t dark enough.

But he isn't dark enough.

Mrs. Root

And is that the only thing against it! I had thought you would be a help to me, mother.

And is that the only issue with it? I thought you would be able to help me, mom.

Grandmother

Grandma

Well, my dear Clara, I have no doubt I will be a help to you—in time. This idea of Peyton becoming a gypsy is too startling for me to be a help instantly. In the first place, could he be? You can’t be anything you take it into your head to be—even if it is undesirable. And then, why should he be? Doesn’t he still teach English right here in the university?

Well, my dear Clara, I have no doubt I’ll be able to help you—in time. This idea of Peyton becoming a gypsy is too shocking for me to be of immediate assistance. First of all, could he even do that? You can’t just decide to be something, even if it’s something you don’t want. And besides, why would he want to? Doesn’t he still teach English right here at the university?

Mrs. Root

I don’t know how much longer he’ll teach it. He said the other day that American literature was a toddy with the stick left out. Saying that of the very[70] thing he’s paid to teach! It got in the papers and was denounced in an editorial on “Untrue Americans.” Peyton—a descendant of John Peyton of Valley Forge! [Indicates the Revolutionary portrait]—denounced in an article on Untrue Americans! And in one of those awful columns—those silly columns—they said maybe the stick hadn’t been left out of his toddy. But it isn’t that. Peyton doesn’t drink—to speak of. It’s this girl. She’s the stick. And I tell you people don’t like it, mother. It’s not what we pay our professors for. Peyton used to be perfectly satisfied with civilization. But now he talks about society. Makes light remarks.

I don’t know how much longer he’ll keep teaching it. He said the other day that American literature was a drink with the stick missing. Can you believe he said that about the very[70] thing he’s getting paid to teach? It made the news and got criticized in an editorial about “Untrue Americans.” Peyton—a descendant of John Peyton of Valley Forge! [Indicates the Revolutionary portrait]—criticized in an article on Untrue Americans! And in one of those terrible columns—those silly columns—they suggested maybe the stick wasn’t missing from his drink. But that’s not the issue. Peyton doesn’t drink—at least, not much. It’s this girl. She’s the stick. And I’m telling you, people don’t like it, mom. It’s not what we pay our professors for. Peyton used to be completely content with civilization. But now he’s talking about society. Making casual remarks.

Grandmother

Grandma

I should say that was going out of his way to be disagreeable. What business has a professor of English to say anything about society? It’s not in his department.

I have to say that he was really trying hard to be difficult. What right does an English professor have to comment on society? That’s not part of his job.

Mrs. Root

I told Peyton he should be more systematic.

I told Peyton he should be more organized.

Grandmother

Grandma

How did this gypsy get here?

How did this traveler end up here?

Mrs. Root

She was brought up by a family named Mason. But it seems she was a gypsy child, who got lost or something, and those Masons took her in. I’m sure it was very good of them, and it’s too bad they weren’t able to make her more of a Christian. She is coming to have a following in the university! There are[71] people who seem to think that because you’re outside society you have some superior information about it.

She was raised by a family called Mason. But it seems she was a gypsy child who got lost or something, and the Masons took her in. I'm sure it was really kind of them, and it's unfortunate they couldn't make her more of a Christian. She's starting to gain a following at the university! There are[71] people who believe that being outside of society gives you some kind of superior insight about it.

Grandmother

Grandma

Well, don’t you think you’re needlessly disturbed? In my day, a young man would be likely enough to fall in love with a good-looking gypsy, not very likely to marry her.

Well, don’t you think you’re unnecessarily upset? Back in my day, a young guy might easily fall for a good-looking gypsy, but it was pretty unlikely he’d actually marry her.

Mrs. Root

Times have changed, mother. They marry them now. [Both sigh.] Of course, it’s very commendable of them.

Times have changed, mom. They marry them now. [Both sigh.] Of course, it’s really admirable of them.

Grandmother

Grandma

[Grimly.] Oh, quite—commendable.

Oh, totally—impressive.

Mrs. Root

I was brought up in university circles. I’m interested in ideas. But sometimes I think there are too many ideas.

I grew up in university settings. I'm interested in ideas. But sometimes I feel like there are too many ideas.

Grandmother

Grandma

An embarrassment of riches. So you have set out to civilize the young woman?

An abundance of wealth. So you’ve decided to refine the young woman?

Mrs. Root

I’d rather have her sit at my table than have my son leave some morning in a covered wagon!

I’d prefer her to sit at my table than for my son to leave one morning in a covered wagon!

Grandmother

Grandma

I wonder how it is about gypsies. About the children. I wonder if it’s as it is with the negroes.

I wonder what it's like with gypsies. What about the kids? I wonder if it's the same as it is with Black people.

Mrs. Root

Ms. Root

Mother!

Mom!

[72]

Grandmother

Grandma

It would be startling, wouldn’t it?—if one of them should turn out to be a real gypsy and take to this open road.

It would be shocking, right?—if one of them turned out to be a real gypsy and hit the open road.

Mrs. Root

[Covering her face.] Oh!

[Hiding her face.] Oh!

Grandmother

Grandma

Quite likely they’d do it by motor.

They'll probably drive there.

Mrs. Root

[Rising.] Mother!—how can you say such dreadful things—and just when I have this trying dinner. Oh, I wish Bessie would come! [Goes to the window.] She is a comfort to me.

[Rising.] Mom!—how can you say such awful things—especially when I’m dealing with this difficult dinner? Oh, I wish Bessie would hurry up! [Goes to the window.] She really helps me.

Grandmother

Grandma

Where is Bessie?

Where's Bessie?

Mrs. Root

Ms. Root

She’s away in the motor. [Again shudders.] Bessie feels dreadfully about her brother. She is trying to do something. She said it would be a surprise—a happy surprise. [Someone heard in the hall.] Perhaps this is Bessie. [Enter Mr. Peyton.] Oh, it’s Uncle George.

She’s off in the car. [Again shudders.] Bessie feels terrible about her brother. She’s trying to plan something. She said it would be a surprise—a happy surprise. [Someone heard in the hall.] Maybe that’s Bessie. [Enter Mr. Peyton.] Oh, it’s Uncle George.

Uncle George

Early I know. Came to have a little visit with Elizabeth. [Goes to Grandmother and shakes hands.] How are you, young woman?

Early I know. Came to have a quick visit with Elizabeth. [Goes to Grandma and shakes hands.] How's it going, young lady?

[73]

Grandmother

Grandma

My nerves seem to be stronger than the nerves I see around me. And how are you, George?

My nerves feel tougher than the ones I see around me. How about you, George?

Uncle George

Oh, I’m well.

Oh, I’m good.

Grandmother

Grandma

But—?

Uncle George

Responsibilities.

Duties.

Grandmother

Grandma

The bank?

Uncle George

I’d rather run ten banks than a tenth of a university. You can control money.

I’d rather manage ten banks than even a small part of a university. You can control money.

Mrs. Root

I’m sorry, Uncle George, that Peyton should be adding to your worries.

I’m sorry, Uncle George, that Peyton is making things more stressful for you.

Uncle George

What’s the matter with Peyton?

What's wrong with Peyton?

Grandmother

Grandma

Wild oats.

Uncle George

Well, I wish he’d sow them in less intellectual fields.

Well, I wish he’d plant them in less intellectual areas.

Mrs. Root

I am prepared to speak freely with you, Uncle George. The matter with Peyton is this girl. Well, they’re going to be married. Yes [Answering his[74] gesture of protest] and I think it’s a good thing. She won’t be in a position to say so much about freedom after she is married.

I’m ready to talk openly with you, Uncle George. The issue with Peyton is this girl. Well, they’re getting married. Yes [Responding to his[74] gesture of protest] and I think it’s a positive thing. She won’t have as much to say about freedom once she’s married.

Uncle George

But they say she’s a gypsy.

But they say she’s a fortune-teller.

Mrs. Root

She won’t be a gypsy after she’s Peyton’s wife. She’ll be a married woman.

She won’t be a gypsy once she’s Peyton’s wife. She’ll be a married woman.

Uncle George

Yes, but in the meantime we will have swallowed a gypsy.

Yes, but in the meantime, we will have swallowed a gypsy.

Grandmother

Grandma

And I was just wondering how it would be about the children.

And I was just thinking about how it would be for the children.

Mrs. Root

Mother, please don’t be indelicate again.

Mother, please don’t be so tactless again.

[Pause.

Pause.

Grandmother

Grandma

Well, if there’s nothing else we may speak of, let’s talk about free speech. They’re writing a paper on it in there.

Well, if there’s nothing else to discuss, let’s talk about free speech. They’re writing a paper on it in there.

Uncle George

I don’t know what this university is coming to! An institution of learning! It isn’t that I don’t believe in free speech. Every true American believes in free speech, but—

I don’t know what this university is turning into! An institution of learning! It’s not that I don’t believe in free speech. Every true American believes in free speech, but—

[Slight Pause.

[Brief Pause.

Grandmother

Grandma

[With Emphasis.] Certainly.

Sure.

[75]

Uncle George

Ask them to come out here with their paper on free speech. I’ll be glad to give them the benefit of my experience.

Ask them to come out here with their paper on free speech. I'd be happy to share my experience with them.

Mrs. Root

Yes, it will be delightful to all be together.

Yes, it will be great to be all together.

[She goes to get Peyton and Jhansi.

She goes to get Peyton and Jhansi.

Grandmother

Grandma

This girl doesn’t look to me like one who is thirsting for the benefit of another person’s experience.

This girl doesn’t seem like someone who is eager to learn from someone else’s experience.

Uncle George

She’s a bad influence. She’s leading our young people to criticise the society their fathers have builded up.

She’s a bad influence. She’s encouraging our young people to criticize the society their fathers have built.

Grandmother

Grandma

There’s a great deal of ingratitude in the world.

There’s a lot of ingratitude in the world.

[Mrs. Root returns, followed by the two young people.

[Ms. Root comes back, followed by the two young people.]

Mrs. Root

I told Uncle George you were eager to bring him and Jhansi together. Jhansi, this is Mr. Peyton, who looks after the affairs of the university for you students. Of course you’ve heard about Miss Mason, Uncle George, one of our—cleverest students.

I told Uncle George you were excited to connect him with Jhansi. Jhansi, this is Mr. Peyton, who manages the university's affairs for you students. Of course, you’ve heard about Miss Mason, Uncle George, one of our smartest students.

Uncle George

Yes, we were speaking of Miss Mason’s cleverness just the other day—in board meeting.

Yes, we were talking about Miss Mason's cleverness just the other day—in the board meeting.

[76]

Jhansi

And just the other day—at the student assembly—we were speaking of how you look after the affairs of the university for us.

And just the other day—at the student assembly—we were talking about how you take care of the university’s matters for us.

Grandmother

Grandma

I hope you both spoke affectionately.

I hope you both talked kindly.

Uncle George

Well, Peyton, very busy I take it. You’re adding to your duties, aren’t you?

Well, Peyton, I guess you’re really busy. You’re taking on more responsibilities, aren’t you?

Peyton

Not that I know of.

Not that I’m aware of.

Uncle George

Your grandmother said something about a high falutin paper on free speech.

Your grandmother mentioned something about an elaborate paper on free speech.

Peyton

I suppose that’s an inherited tendency. You know one of my ancestors signed a paper on free speech. It had a high falutin name: “The Declaration of Independence”!

I guess that’s a family trait. You know, one of my ancestors signed a document on free speech. It had a fancy name: “The Declaration of Independence”!

Mrs. Root

I wish Bessie would come!

I wish Bessie would show up!

Uncle George

Do you think much about your ancestors, Peyton?

Do you think about your ancestors a lot, Peyton?

Peyton

Not a great deal.

Not much.

[77]

Uncle George

Peyton has some rather interesting ancestors, Miss Mason. There’s Captain John Peyton. That’s his picture. He helped win one of the battles which made this country possible—the country in which you are living. And a descendant of John Peyton—Richard Peyton [Points out the picture] gave the money which founded this university—the university in which you are now acquiring your education.

Peyton has some really interesting ancestors, Miss Mason. There’s Captain John Peyton. That’s his picture. He played a role in winning one of the battles that helped create this country—the country where you are living. And a descendant of John Peyton—Richard Peyton [Points out the picture] provided the funds that established this university—the university where you are currently getting your education.

Jhansi

[Lightly.] Perhaps it would be quite as well if this university—and this country—never had existed.

[Lightly.] Maybe it would have been better if this university—and this country—never existed.

Mrs. Root

I don’t see why Bessie doesn’t come!

I don’t see why Bessie doesn’t come!

Jhansi

Of course I look at it as an outsider. I am not a part of your society.

Of course, I see it as an outsider. I’m not part of your society.

Uncle George

Peyton is.

Peyton exists.

Mrs. Root

There’s Bessie!

[Bessie rushes in.

Bessie rushes in.

Bessie

Grandmother! [Swiftly kissing her.] How wonderful to have you with us again! Dear Uncle George!

Grandma! [Quickly kissing her.] It's so great to have you with us again! Dear Uncle George!

Uncle George

Glad you got here, Bessie. Your mother has been looking for you.

Glad you made it, Bessie. Your mom has been searching for you.

[78]

Bessie

[A movement of greeting to Jhansi.] Isn’t it beautiful to all be together? A real family party! And now—we have a moment or two before dinner, mother?

[A movement of greeting to Jhansi.] Isn’t it wonderful to all be together? It feels just like a family gathering! And now—we have a minute or two before dinner, right, Mom?

Mrs. Root

Ms. Root

The man who brought the turkey in from the country had a runaway, so it was a little late in arriving.

The guy who brought the turkey in from the countryside had a car breakdown, so it got here a bit late.

Bessie

How fortunate! Oh, it does seem that all things work together for the best. Mother, I have had a completely successful day!

How lucky! It really seems like everything is coming together for the best. Mom, I had a totally successful day!

Grandmother

Grandma

Where’ve you been, Bessie?

Where have you been, Bessie?

Bessie

I’ve been fifty miles to the north—in Baxter County. Does that mean anything to you, Jhansi?

I’ve been fifty miles north—in Baxter County. Does that mean anything to you, Jhansi?

Jhansi

Not a thing.

Nothing.

Bessie

[Still breathlessly.] Dear uncle, I hope you will understand what I am about to do. It might seem unrestrained—not in the best of taste, but it’s just because you stand for so much in Peyton’s life that I want you to hear our good news as soon as we hear it ourselves. You knew that these two children were in love and going to be married. [A bow from Uncle[79] George.] You know—Jhansi dear, I may speak very freely, may I not?

[Still breathlessly.] Dear Uncle, I hope you’ll understand what I’m about to do. It might seem a bit impulsive—not the best taste, but it’s just that you mean so much in Peyton’s life that I want you to hear our good news as soon as we find out ourselves. You knew that these two kids were in love and planning to get married. [A bow from Uncle George.] You know—Jhansi dear, I can speak very openly, can’t I?

Jhansi

I believe in free speech.

I support free speech.

Bessie

Yes—how dear of you. Jhansi has endured in proud silence a great grief. And now, dear child, because of the touching dignity with which you have stood outside and alone, it is a moment of special joyfulness to me when I can say—Welcome Within!

Yes—how kind of you. Jhansi has quietly endured a deep sorrow. And now, dear child, because of the moving dignity with which you've stood outside and by yourself, it brings me special joy to say—Welcome Inside!

Peyton

What are you talking about, Bessie?

Bessie

You must not stand outside society! You belong within the gates. You are one of us!

You can't stand outside of society! You belong inside the gates. You're one of us!

Jhansi

I’m not.

I’m not.

Bessie

Dear child you are as respectable as we are.

Dear child, you are just as respectable as we are.

Jhansi

[Rising.] I am not.

[Rising.] I'm not.

Bessie

Of course, you can’t grasp it in an instant. But I have looked it all up, dear. I have the proofs.

Of course, you can’t understand it all at once. But I’ve researched everything, dear. I have the evidence.

Peyton

Well it wasn’t your affair, Bessie.

Well, it wasn't your business, Bessie.

[80]

Bessie

I made it my affair because I love my brother. Jhansi dear, [As one who tells tremendous good news] your father was Henry Harrison, a milkman in the town of Sunny Center—an honorable and respected man. Your parents were married in the Baptist Church!

I got involved because I care about my brother. Jhansi, my dear, [As someone who brings great news] your father was Henry Harrison, a milkman in the town of Sunny Center—an honorable and respected man. Your parents tied the knot in the Baptist Church!

Jhansi

I deny it! I deny this charge!

I deny it! I deny this accusation!

Bessie

[Stepping to the hall.] Dear Senator and Mrs. Byrd, will you come now?

[Stepping to the hall.] Dear Senator and Mrs. Byrd, are you coming now?

[Enter State Senator Byrd and Mrs. State Senator Byrd, Mrs. Byrd carrying a large book.

[Enter Senator Byrd and Senator Byrd, Mrs. Byrd carrying a large book.

Bessie

Jhansi dear, you are about to enter upon the happiest moment of your life, for State Senator Byrd, one of our law-making body, is a cousin of your dear dead mother.

Jhansi, my dear, you’re about to experience the happiest moment of your life because State Senator Byrd, one of our lawmakers, is a cousin of your beloved late mother.

Senator Byrd

Aggie’s little girl!

Aggie's daughter!

[He goes to Jhansi with outstretched hands. But Aggie’s little girl stands like a rock.

He goes to Jhansi with his arms wide open. But Aggie's little girl stands there like a statue.

Bessie

And here, Jhansi, is your cousin Mrs. Byrd, who has come all this way to assure you you have a family.

And here, Jhansi, is your cousin Mrs. Byrd, who has traveled all this way to let you know you have family.

[81]

Mrs. Byrd

Indeed you have! There’s Ella Andrews, one of our teachers—a lovely girl. She’s your first cousin. We are second cousins. You may have some little family pride in knowing that I was last spring elected President of the Federated Clubs of Baxter County. Just last week I entertained the officers of all the clubs at our home—our new home, erected last year after your cousin Ephraim completed his first term in the upper house of the State Legislature. Your cousin Ephraim has been re-elected. He is on the Ways and Means Committee.

Indeed you have! There’s Ella Andrews, one of our teachers—a lovely girl. She’s your first cousin. We are second cousins. You might take some pride in knowing that I was elected President of the Federated Clubs of Baxter County last spring. Just last week, I hosted the officers of all the clubs at our new home, built last year after your cousin Ephraim finished his first term in the State Legislature. Your cousin Ephraim has been re-elected. He’s on the Ways and Means Committee.

Uncle George

[Approaching Senator Byrd.] I have heard of Senator Ephraim Byrd of the Ways and Means Committee. That was good work you fellows—

[Approaching Senator Byrd.] I've heard about Senator Ephraim Byrd from the Ways and Means Committee. You guys did a great job—

[They talk of this.

They're talking about this.

Mrs. Root

And to think, Jhansi, that your cousin Mrs. Byrd is a prominent clubwoman!

And to think, Jhansi, that your cousin Mrs. Byrd is a well-known club member!

Grandmother

Grandma

[After a look at Jhansi.] Her cup runneth over.

[After a look at Jhansi.] She's overwhelmed with happiness.

Mrs. Root

Isn’t Bessie wonderful, mother? How did you find it all out, Bessie?

Isn't Bessie amazing, mom? How did you figure it all out, Bessie?

Bessie

From clue to clue I worked my way to Sunny Center. I would say to myself—Do this for Peyton;[82] do this for Jhansi. And so, I heard of an old minister who had been there years and years. I went to him and—he had married Jhansi’s father and mother! Dearest child, your mother taught in his Sunday-School!

From clue to clue, I made my way to Sunny Center. I kept telling myself—Do this for Peyton; do this for Jhansi. Then, I found out about an old minister who had been there for ages. I approached him, and it turned out that he had married Jhansi’s parents! My dear child, your mother used to teach in his Sunday school!

Senator Byrd

Oh, yes, Aggie loved the Baptist Sunday-School!

Oh, yes, Aggie loved the Baptist Sunday School!

Jhansi

It’s very strange that my mother—I am referring to Mrs. Mason—never told me of this!

It’s really odd that my mom—I mean Mrs. Mason—never mentioned this to me!

Bessie

But she never told you you were a gypsy, either, did she? No; she just wanted you to think you were their own child. And then I suppose you heard some foolish tale at school.

But she never called you a gypsy, did she? No; she just wanted you to believe you were her own child. And then I guess you heard some silly story at school.

Mrs. Byrd

You see Jhansi’s mother and father—her real ones—died of typhoid fever before she was two years old. They got it from the cows. Well, the Harrisons were friends of the Mason’s—they all worked together in the church—and so they took Jhansi, and soon after that they moved away and we lost track of them. You know what a busy world it is—particularly for people who have duties in their community.

You see, Jhansi’s biological parents died of typhoid fever before she turned two. They contracted it from the cows. The Harrisons, who were friends with the Masons—they all worked together at the church—ended up taking Jhansi in, and not long after that, they moved away, and we lost touch with them. You know how hectic life can be, especially for those who have responsibilities in their community.

Jhansi

I haven’t accepted this story! You can’t prove it!

I haven't accepted this story! You can't prove it!

[83]

[Mrs. Byrd impressively hands her husband the book.

[Ms. Byrd confidently hands her husband the book.]

Senator Byrd

“Iowa descendants of New England families.”

“Iowa descendants of families from New England.”

Mrs. Root

Oh, yes; that is one of the books in which our family is written up! [To Peyton.] My dearest boy, from my heart I congratulate you!

Oh, yes; that is one of the books where our family is mentioned! [To Peyton.] My dear boy, I wholeheartedly congratulate you!

Senator Byrd

Pages fifty-seven to sixty-one—inclusive, are devoted, Jhansi, to our family.

Pages fifty-seven to sixty-one, inclusive, are dedicated, Jhansi, to our family.

Mrs. Byrd

Ms. Byrd

My own family appears on page 113.

My family is mentioned on page 113.

[Senator Byrd holds the book out to Jhansi, who once more stands like a rock. Uncle George steps forward to look at the book.

[Senator Byrd extends the book towards Jhansi, who remains as solid as ever. Uncle George moves closer to examine the book.]

Uncle George

Oh, you are a descendant of Peter Byrd.

Oh, you’re a descendant of Peter Byrd.

Senator Byrd

One of those dare-devils whose leg was shot under him at Bull Run.

One of those thrill-seekers whose leg was shot out from under him at Bull Run.

Bessie

You heard that, Jhansi?

Did you hear that, Jhansi?

Mrs. Root

Ms. Root

A descendant of Peter Byrd!—whose leg was shot under him—

[84]

Jhansi

So this is what I was brought here for, is it? To have my character torn down—to ruin my reputation and threaten my integrity by seeking to muzzle me with a leg at Bull Run and set me down in the Baptist Sunday-School in a milk-wagon! I see the purpose of it all. I understand the hostile motive behind all this—but I tell you it’s a lie. Something here [Hand on heart] tells me I am not respectable!

So this is why I was brought here, right? To have my character torn apart—to destroy my reputation and threaten my integrity by trying to silence me with a leg at Bull Run and put me in the Baptist Sunday-School in a milk truck! I see the purpose of it all. I understand the hostile motive behind all this—but I’m telling you it’s a lie. Something here [Hand on heart] tells me I am not respectable!

Uncle George

Reaction.

Response.

Jhansi

I am Jhansi—Jhansi—a child of the gypsies! I am a wanderer! I am an outlaw!

Mrs. Byrd

Yes, you are Jhansi. And did you ever stop to think how you came by that outlandish name?

Yes, you are Jhansi. Have you ever thought about how you got that unusual name?

Jhansi

It has always assured me of my birthright.

It has always confirmed my birthright.

Mrs. Byrd

Well, you’d better look in your geography. You were named after a town in India where your mother’s missionary circle was helping to support a missionary.

Well, you should check your geography. You were named after a town in India where your mom's missionary group was helping to support a missionary.

Senator Byrd

Aggie was crazy about the missionaries.

Aggie was obsessed with the missionaries.

[85]

Jhansi

[Falling back, breaking.] Peyton, I release you from our engagement.

[Falling back, breaking.] Peyton, I’m ending our engagement.

Peyton

No. N-o; don’t do that. [Stoutly.] I love you for yourself alone—in spite of anything that may be true. But I must say Bessie—!

No. N-o; please don’t do that. [Stoutly.] I love you just for who you are—in spite of anything that might be true. But I have to say, Bessie—!

Jhansi

[Beginning to sob.] I can’t bear it. I can’t bear it! And to think that Peyton’s mother was an illegitimate child.

[Beginning to sob.] I can’t take it. I can’t take it! And to think that Peyton’s mom was an unrecognized child.

Mrs. Root

[Dazed.] What’s that?

Dazed. What’s that?

Grandmother

Grandma

[Rising.] Yes; what is that?

[Rising.] Yes; what’s that?

Mrs. Root

Am I to understand—?

Am I to get that—?

Grandmother

Grandma

Am I to be told—at my age—that I gave birth to an illegitimate child? This is a surprise to me—and not a pleasant one!

Am I seriously being told—at my age—that I had an illegitimate child? This is a shock to me—and definitely not a good one!

Peyton

[To Jhansi.] It would have been better not to have mentioned that.

[To Jhansi.] It would have been better to leave that unmentioned.

[86]

Uncle George

This is reaction. I think perhaps we need a physician.

This is a reaction. I think maybe we need a doctor.

Jhansi

I don’t need a physician. Peyton certainly told me that his mother was an illegitimate child. Of course, Peyton, if you were just boasting about your family—say so.

I don’t need a doctor. Peyton definitely told me that his mom was an illegitimate child. Of course, Peyton, if you were just showing off about your family—just say so.

Uncle George

What have you to say, Peyton?

What do you have to say, Peyton?

Grandmother

Grandma

Before he says anything, Bessie, you bring me that portfolio from the lower right-hand corner of my desk. Key in the upper left hand pigeon hole.

Before he says anything, Bessie, please bring me that portfolio from the lower right corner of my desk. It’s in the upper left pigeonhole.

[Bessie goes.

Bessie takes off.

Mrs. Root

Peyton!

Peyton

Why I didn’t mean any harm, mother. I certainly didn’t mean anything against you, or grandmother. Quite the contrary. I was just anxious that Jhansi should have a little respect for our family. It didn’t seem to have a leg to stand on.

Why I didn’t mean any harm, mom. I definitely didn’t mean anything against you or grandma. Quite the opposite. I was just worried that Jhansi should have some respect for our family. It didn’t seem to have a leg to stand on.

Jhansi

So you made it up—out of whole cloth?

So you just came up with it all from scratch?

Peyton

No, not out of whole cloth.

No, not out of thin air.

[87]

Grandmother

Grandma

Out of what cloth, then? Kindly tell me, out of what cloth?

Out of what material, then? Please tell me, out of what material?

Mrs. Root

Peyton is not himself.

Peyton is not himself anymore.

Peyton

Well, it just came into my head that it was possible. You see, grandmother, your having moved—I do wish you could see that I meant nothing against your character. Absolutely the contrary. But your having moved—

Well, it just occurred to me that it was possible. You see, grandma, now that you've moved—I really wish you could understand that I meant nothing bad about your character. Quite the opposite. But your having moved—

Grandmother

Grandma

My having moved where?

Where did I move to?

Peyton

Your having moved from New York State to Ohio at just that time—

Your move from New York State to Ohio at just that time—

Grandmother

Grandma

I always did like to travel. Is that anything against a person’s character?

I’ve always liked to travel. Is that a bad thing for a person’s character?

Peyton

I was claiming that you had character.

I was saying you had character.

Grandmother

Grandma

I’ll stick to my own, thank you. I’ve had it quite a while and am used to it. But I’d like to know right now what there is so immoral in moving from one state to another—even if you are going to have a baby?

I’ll stick to what I know, thanks. I’ve had this for a long time and I’m used to it. But I want to know right now what’s so wrong about moving from one state to another—even if you’re going to have a baby?

[88]

Jhansi

[Raising her head.] There is nothing immoral in anything.

[Raising her head.] There is nothing wrong in anything.

Grandmother

Grandma

Fiddlesticks. [Bessie hands her the folio.] You found it, Bessie? The key? Here, Peyton; come here. [Opens portfolio, takes out a rolled paper.] Happily preserved for this defense of my character in my old age, is my wedding certificate.

Fiddlesticks. [Bessie hands her the folio.] You found it, Bessie? The key? Here, Peyton; come here. [Opens portfolio, takes out a rolled paper.] Safely kept for this defense of my character in my old age is my wedding certificate.

Mrs. Byrd

This is painful.

This hurts.

[With ostentatious tact she turns and looks at a print on the rear wall; motions Senator Byrd to join her.

With flashy elegance, she turns and looks at a print on the back wall; she gestures for Senator Byrd to join her.

Grandmother

Grandma

I want you to look at the date—right there beside that pink cupid—cherub, perhaps it is—anyway, read aloud the figures you see.

I want you to look at the date—right there next to that pink cupid—maybe it’s a cherub—anyway, read the numbers out loud that you see.

Peyton

[Sullenly.] 1869.

Sullenly.

Grandmother

Grammy

And here, in this other document, very fortunately at hand to meet the attacks of my only grandson upon my integrity, what do you read there?

And here, in this other document, luckily available to counter my only grandson's attacks on my integrity, what do you see there?

Peyton

Clara—aged six weeks.

Clara—6 weeks old.

Grandmother

Grandma

And the date?

What's the date?

[89]

[Mrs. Root, Bessie, Uncle George, all listen a little anxiously.

[Ms. Root, Bessie, Uncle George, all listen a little anxiously.

Peyton

December, 1871.

December 1871.

[A sigh of relief.

A sigh of relief.

Grandmother

Grandma

I trust now, Peyton, you will admit that a woman may move from one state to another without being dissolute.

I trust now, Peyton, you will admit that a woman can move from one state to another without being immoral.

[At this word Mrs. Root is unable to bear more and hides her face in her handkerchief.

[At this point, Ms. Root can't take it anymore and buries her face in her handkerchief.

Uncle George

[As one saving the situation.] Genealogy is interesting. One is democratic, of course, but when there is behind one what there is behind us, Senator, it enhances one’s powers—responsibility—obligation. [He has taken up the book and been running through the pages.] Descendants of John Peyton. Here, Peyton, are some things about your ancestors. Read them. Perhaps then instead of tearing down you will have an impulse to build up. I commend this book to you young people for study. It will do you no harm to think a little of those worthy men from whom you come.

[As someone who is fixing the situation.] Genealogy is fascinating. It’s democratic, of course, but when you consider what lies behind us, Senator, it boosts our power—responsibility—obligation. [He has picked up the book and been flipping through the pages.] Descendants of John Peyton. Here, Peyton, are some details about your ancestors. Take a look. Maybe instead of tearing things down, you’ll feel inspired to build them up. I recommend this book to you young people for your studies. It won’t hurt to reflect a little on those admirable men from whom you come.

[Marks the place with a card and gives the book to Peyton.

[Marks the spot with a card and hands the book to Peyton.]

Jhansi

[Springing up.] I shall waste no time thinking of the worthy men from whom I come! If I am related[90] to a law-maker—I owe it to my soul to become a law-breaker!

[Springing up.] I won't waste any time thinking about the great men in my family! If I'm related[90] to a lawmaker, I owe it to myself to be a lawbreaker!

Mrs. Root

You see, Bessie, what you have done.

You see, Bessie, what you've done.

Jhansi

When I thought there was in me no taint of civilization, I could put up with your silly conventions, but if in a material sense I am part of your society, then I have a spiritual obligation to fulfil in leaving it! Peyton, respectability threatens to wall us in and stifle us. Are you ready to walk from this house with me tonight, entering upon a free union that says that—[A snap of the finger] for law?

When I believed I wasn't influenced by civilization, I could deal with your ridiculous norms, but if I'm connected to your society in a material way, then I have a spiritual duty to leave it! Peyton, respectability is trying to trap us and suffocate us. Are you willing to leave this house with me tonight and start a free relationship that disregards the law?

Peyton

Why—certainly.

Of course.

Mrs. Byrd

Well, if it comes to a matter of not caring to claim relationship, we certainly hesitated some time. Those Harrisons were not all they should be.

Well, if it comes to not wanting to claim a relationship, we definitely hesitated for a while. Those Harrisons weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

Jhansi

[A note of hope in her voice.] No?

Mrs. Byrd

I said to Senator Byrd, now that the girl is marrying into one of the best families in the state—not that that influenced us especially, but I said, if she is trying to make something of herself, we must stand by her, and we will mention only pleasant things. We will not allude to what her grandfather did!

I told Senator Byrd that now the girl is marrying into one of the best families in the state—not that it really influenced us—but I said, if she’s trying to better herself, we need to support her, and we’ll only bring up good things. We won’t mention what her grandfather did!

[91]

Jhansi

What did he do?

Senator Byrd

He burned down his neighbor’s house because that neighbor chased home his pigs.

He set his neighbor’s house on fire because that neighbor chased his pigs home.

Jhansi

Really? Yes!—my grandfather would do that!

Seriously? Yes!—my grandpa would do that!

Peyton

Were any of the family found in the charred remains?

Were any of the family found in the burnt wreckage?

Senator Byrd

The family, I believe, escaped.

The family probably escaped.

Mrs. Byrd

But no thanks to old man Harrison.

But it’s not because of old man Harrison.

Jhansi

No!—I’m sure grandfather meant them to burn. [Seizing book.] I wonder if grandfather’s protest is recorded in this book!

No!—I'm sure Grandfather meant for them to burn. [Grabbing the book.] I wonder if Grandfather's protest is noted in this book!

Mrs. Byrd

That book does not emphasize unfortunate occurrences.

That book doesn't focus on negative events.

Mrs. Root

And how right it is! One should think only of the good in human nature.

And how true that is! One should focus only on the good in human nature.

[92]

Peyton

[Looking with Jhansi.] What is this fine print at the bottom of the page?

[Looking with Jhansi.] What’s this small text at the bottom of the page?

Mrs. Byrd

[Hastily.] That is not important.

Not important.

Senator Byrd

It is in fine print because it is not important.

It’s in small print because it’s not important.

Peyton

One of the descendants of Peter Byrd. [To Jhansi.] The leg at Bull Run, you know. He—

Mrs. Root

Peyton, remember that you are in your own house.

Peyton, keep in mind that you’re in your own home.

Peyton

“Unfaithful to the high office of treasurer of the Baxter County Cemetery Association.”

“Disloyal to the important role of treasurer of the Baxter County Cemetery Association.”

Jhansi

[Gasping, then beaming.] Why—why!—a grave robber! Was he a near relative?

[Gasping, then smiling.] Why—why!—a grave robber! Was he a close relative?

Mrs. Byrd

I must say, Miss Root, that we did not come here to have our family inquired into as far back as ancient history!

I have to say, Miss Root, that we didn't come here to have our family examined all the way back to ancient history!

Mrs. Root

No, Mrs. Byrd, I quite agree with you that it is not necessary to go too far back in any family.

No, Mrs. Byrd, I completely agree with you that it’s not necessary to look too far back in any family.

[93]

Grandmother

Grandma

Neither necessary nor desirable.

Not needed or wanted.

Bessie

Those early days must have been very trying.

Those early days must have been really tough.

Peyton

Jhansi! The fine print of your family is thrilling. Here is a man—

Jhansi! The details of your family are exciting. Here is a man—

Mrs. Root

Peyton, stop reading from that tiresome and obsolete book. It is not hospitable.

Peyton, stop reading from that boring and outdated book. It's not welcoming.

Mrs. Byrd

Turn to your own family history and read a little fine print in it!

Turn to your own family history and read a bit of the fine print in it!

[The other members of the Peyton-Root family give each other startled, nervous glances.

The other members of the Peyton-Root family exchange surprised, anxious looks.

Peyton

Why what a lovely idea. Uncle has marked it for us. [After looking.] Fine print in our family?

Why, what a lovely idea. Uncle has marked it for us. [After looking.] Fine print in our family?

Mrs. Byrd

It’s there.

It's there.

Bessie

Genealogy is so confusing. I never could understand it.

Genealogy is really confusing. I've never been able to figure it out.

Mrs. Root

And I don’t see why one should try to understand it. Live well in the present—that is sufficient.

And I don’t see why anyone should try to understand it. Just live well in the present—that’s enough.

[94]

Grandmother

Grandma

It looks to me as if that book was not thoughtfully edited. I’m surprised it has sold.

It seems to me that that book wasn't carefully edited. I'm surprised it sold.

Peyton

[Snatching book from Jhansi.] Jhansi! I don’t want to boast! I hope I shall not become a snob. You too have a family—and they had their impulsive moments—but what was the most largely low-down thing a man of early days could do? [Peytons and Roots draw together anxiously; the Byrds wait complacently.] As uncle has pointed out, Jhansi, I am a descendant of Captain John Peyton. But when you have a remote ancestor, you also have his less remote descendants—a fact sometimes overlooked. Well, Stuart Peyton—

[Snatching book from Jhansi.] Jhansi! I don’t want to brag! I hope I won't turn into a snob. You have a family too—and they had their impulsive moments—but what was the most completely shameful thing a guy from back then could do? [Peyton's and Roots gather together anxiously; the Byrds wait calmly.] As Uncle has pointed out, Jhansi, I’m a descendant of Captain John Peyton. But when you have a distant ancestor, you also have his closer descendants—a fact that’s often overlooked. Well, Stuart Peyton—

Bessie

Mother, I wonder if the turkey isn’t ready now?

Mother, I’m wondering if the turkey is ready now?

Mrs. Root

It’s time for it to be ready.

[She hurries out.

She rushes out.

Peyton

Stuart Peyton—“convicted of selling whiskey and firearms to the Indians.”

Stuart Peyton—“found guilty of selling whiskey and firearms to Native Americans.”

[Assumes an overbearing attitude.

Acts superior.

Mrs. Byrd

I guess the early days were trying, in more than one family.

I suppose the early days were challenging for more than one family.

[95]

Peyton

[Peering into the book.] And what is this? What is this? Stuart Peyton was the father of Richard Peyton—

Jhansi

Who founded this university!

Who started this university?

Peyton

[In the voice of Uncle George.] The university in which you are now acquiring your education.

[In the voice of Uncle George.] The university where you are currently getting your education.

Mrs. Byrd

Oh, I have no doubt that inducing the Indians to massacre the whites was profitable.

Oh, I have no doubt that convincing the Indians to slaughter the whites was profitable.

Peyton

A good sound basis for the family fortune.

A solid foundation for the family wealth.

Uncle George

Young man, you go too far!

Young man, you’re going too far!

Peyton

[Holding book out to Uncle George.] In thinking of these worthy men from whom I come? [Turns to the wall on which hang portraits of John and Richard Peyton.] We don’t seem to have Stuart’s picture. Jhansi, I don’t know that we need to leave society. There seems little—crevices in these walls of respectability.

[Holding the book out to Uncle George.] When I think about these remarkable men in my family? [Turns to the wall where portraits of John and Richard Peyton are displayed.] It looks like we don’t have a picture of Stuart. Jhansi, I’m not sure we need to withdraw from society. There seem to be small—gaps in these walls of respectability.

Jhansi

And whenever we feel a bit stifled we can always find air through our family trees!

And whenever we feel a bit restricted, we can always find freedom through our family backgrounds!

[96]

Mrs. Byrd

I think, Senator, that we will not remain longer.

I think, Senator, that we won’t stay any longer.

[Mrs. Root returns.

Mrs. Root is back.

Mrs. Root

Mary was just coming. Now we’ll have dinner!

Mary was just arriving. Now we can have dinner!

Bessie

Yes, a little family party to celebrate the happy—

Yes, a small family gathering to celebrate the happy—

Peyton

[Again bent over his family history.] Grandmother! Here’s something about your ancestor, Gustave Phelps.

Grandmother

Grandma

[Rising. With weight.] Peyton—close that book.

(Curtain)

Curtain

[97]

THE OUTSIDE
A PLAY IN ONE ACT

THE OUTSIDE
A One-Act Play

First Performed by the Provincetown Players,
December 28, 1917

First performed by the Provincetown Players,
December 28, 1917

ORIGINAL CAST

Captain of “The Bars” Life-Saving Station,	Abram Gillette
Bradford, a Live-saver	Hutchinson Collins
Tony, a Portuguese Live-Saver	Louis L.
Mrs. Patrick, who lives in the abandoned Station	Ida Rauh
Allie Mayo, who works for her	Susan Glaspell

[99]

THE OUTSIDE

Scene: A room in a house which was once a life-saving station. Since ceasing to be that it has taken on no other character, except that of a place which no one cares either to preserve or change. It is painted the life-saving gray, but has not the life-saving freshness. This is one end of what was the big boat room, and at the ceiling is seen a part of the frame work from which the boat once swung. About two thirds of the back wall is open, because of the big sliding door, of the type of barn door, and through this open door are seen the sand dunes, and beyond them the woods. At one point the line where woods and dunes meet stands out clearly and there are indicated the rude things, vines, bushes, which form the outer uneven rim of the woods—the only things that grow in the sand. At another point a sand-hill is menacing the woods. This old life-saving station is at a point where the sea curves, so through the open door the sea also is seen. [The station is located on the outside shore of Cape Cod, at the point, near the tip of the Cape, where it makes that final curve which forms the Provincetown Harbor.] The dunes are hills and strange forms of sand on which, in places, grows the stiff beach grass—struggle; dogged growing against odds. At right of the big sliding door is a drift of sand and the top of buried beach grass is seen on this. There is a door left, and at right of big sliding door is a slanting wall. Door in this is ajar at rise of curtain, and through this door Bradford and Tony, life-savers, are seen bending over a man’s body, attempting to restore respiration. The captain[100] of the life-savers comes into view outside the big open door, at left; he appears to have been hurrying, peers in, sees the men, goes quickly to them.

Scene: A room in a house that used to be a life-saving station. Since it stopped serving that purpose, it hasn't taken on any other role, just a place that no one cares to maintain or change. It's painted the life-saving gray, but it doesn’t have the fresh feel of a life-saving station. This area was once part of the large boat room, and you can see part of the frame from which the boat used to hang up at the ceiling. About two-thirds of the back wall is open due to a large sliding door, like a barn door, and through this open door, you can see the sand dunes and, beyond that, the woods. At one spot, the line where the woods meet the dunes stands out clearly, revealing the rough things like vines and bushes that make up the outer uneven edge of the woods—the only things that thrive in the sand. In another spot, a sand hill seems to threaten the woods. This old life-saving station is located where the sea curves, so you can also see the sea through the open door. [The station is located on the outer shore of Cape Cod, at the point near the tip of the Cape, where it makes that final curve which forms Provincetown Harbor.] The dunes are hills and bizarre shapes of sand where, in some places, tough beach grass struggles to grow—persistently fighting against the odds. To the right of the big sliding door is a pile of sand, and you can see the tops of buried beach grass on it. There’s a door to the left, and to the right of the big sliding door is a slanted wall. The door in this wall is slightly open as the curtain rises, and through this door, Bradford and Tony, life-savers, are seen leaning over a man’s body, trying to revive him. The captain[100] of the life-savers comes into view outside the big open door, on the left; he seems to have been rushing, peeks inside, sees the men, and quickly goes to them.

Captain

I’ll take this now, boys.

I'm taking this now, guys.

Bradford

No need for anybody to take it, Capt’n. He was dead when we picked him up.

No one needs to claim it, Captain. He was dead when we found him.

Captain

Dannie Sears was dead when we picked him up. But we brought him back. I’ll go on awhile.

Dannie Sears was dead when we found him. But we revived him. I’ll keep going for a bit.

[The two men who have been bending over the body rise, stretch to relax, and come into the room.

[The two men who had been leaning over the body stand up, stretch to relax, and enter the room.]

Bradford

[Pushing back his arms and putting his hands on his chest.] Work,—tryin’ to put life in the dead.

[Pushing back his arms and putting his hands on his chest.] Work—trying to bring life to the lifeless.

Captain

Where’d you find him, Joe?

Where did you find him, Joe?

Bradford

In front of this house. Not forty feet out.

In front of this house. Not more than forty feet away.

Captain

What’d you bring him up here for?

What did you bring him up here for?

[101]

[He speaks in an abstracted way, as if the working part of his mind is on something else, and in the muffled voice of one bending over.

He talks in a distant way, as if the active part of his mind is focused on something else, and he speaks in a muted voice like someone leaning down.

Bradford

[With a sheepish little laugh.] Force of habit, I guess. We brought so many of ’em back up here. [Looks around the room.] And then it was kind of unfriendly down where he was—the wind spittin’ the sea onto you till he’d have no way of knowin’ he was ashore.

[With a shy little laugh.] Just a habit, I suppose. We brought so many of them back up here. [Looks around the room.] And then it felt pretty unwelcoming where he was—the wind blowing the sea onto you until he had no way of knowing he was on land.

Tony

Lucky I was not sooner or later as I walk by from my watch.

Lucky I wasn't earlier or later as I walked by according to my watch.

Bradford

You have accommodating ways, Tony. Not sooner or later. I wouldn’t say it of many Portagees. But the sea [Calling it in to the Captain] is friendly as a kitten alongside the women that live here. Allie Mayo—they’re both crazy—had that door open [Moving his head toward the big sliding door] sweepin’ out, and when we come along she backs off and stands lookin’ at us, lookin’—Lord, I just wanted to get him somewhere else. So I kicked this door open with my foot [Jerking his hand toward the room where the Captain is seen bending over the man] and got him away. [Under his voice.] If he did have any notion of comin’ back to life, he wouldn’t a come if he’d seen her. [More genially.] I wouldn’t.

You have a way of accommodating, Tony. Not too soon or too late. I wouldn’t say that about many Portuguese. But the sea [Calling it in to the Captain] is as friendly as a kitten compared to the women who live here. Allie Mayo—they’re both a bit off their rocker—had that door open [Moving his head toward the big sliding door] letting air in, and when we walked by, she backed off and just stood there staring at us, staring—God, I just wanted to get him out of there. So I kicked that door open with my foot [Jerking his hand toward the room where the Captain is seen bending over the man] and got him out. [Under his voice.] If he had any idea of coming back to life, he wouldn’t have wanted to if he’d seen her. [More genially.] I wouldn’t.

Captain

You know who he is, Joe?

You know who he is, right, Joe?

Bradford

I never saw him before.

I've never seen him before.

[102]

Captain

Mitchell telephoned from High Head that a dory came ashore there.

Mitchell called from High Head to say that a dory washed up on the shore there.

Bradford

Last night wasn’t the best night for a dory. [To Tony, boastfully.] Not that I couldn’t ’a’ stayed in one. Some men can stay in a dory and some can’t. [Going to the inner door.] That boy’s dead, Capt’n.

Last night wasn’t the best night for a dory. [To Tony, boastfully.] Not that I couldn’t have stayed in one. Some men can stay in a dory and some can’t. [Going to the inner door.] That boy’s dead, Capt’n.

Captain

Then I’m not doing him any harm.

Then I’m not hurting him at all.

Bradford

[Going over and shaking the frame where the boat once swung.] This the first time you ever been in this place, ain’t it, Tony?

[Going over and shaking the frame where the boat once swung.] Is this the first time you've been here, Tony?

Tony

I never was here before.

I’ve never been here before.

Bradford

Well, I was here before. [A laugh.] And the old man—[Nodding toward the Captain] he lived here for twenty-seven years. Lord, the things that happened here. There’ve been dead ones carried through that door. [Pointing to the outside door.] Lord—the ones I’ve carried. I carried in Bill Collins, and Lou Harvey and—huh! ’sall over now. You ain’t seen no wrecks. Don’t ever think you have. I was here the night the Jennie Snow was out there. [Pointing to the sea.] There was a wreck. We got the boat that stood here [Again shaking the frame] down that[103] bank. [Goes to the door and looks out.] Lord, how’d we ever do it? The sand has put this place on the blink all right. And then when it gets too God-forsaken for a life-savin’ station, a lady takes it for a summer residence—and then spends the winter. She’s cheerful one.

Well, I was here before. [A laugh.] And the old man—[Nodding toward the Captain] he lived here for twenty-seven years. Wow, the things that happened here. There’ve been dead people carried through that door. [Pointing to the outside door.] Man—the ones I’ve carried. I brought in Bill Collins, and Lou Harvey and—huh! It’s all over now. Don’t think you’ve seen any wrecks. I was here the night the Jennie Snow was out there. [Pointing to the sea.] There was a wreck. We got the boat that stood here [Again shaking the frame] down that [103] bank. [Goes to the door and looks out.] Wow, how did we ever do it? The sand has really put this place on the blink. And then when it gets too desolate for a lifesaving station, a lady takes it for a summer home—and then spends the winter. She’s a cheerful one.

Tony

A woman—she makes things pretty. This not like a place where a woman live. On the floor there is nothing—on the wall there is nothing. Things—[Trying to express it with his hands] do not hang on other things.

A woman—she makes things beautiful. This is not like a place where a woman lives. On the floor, there’s nothing—on the wall, there’s nothing. Things—[Trying to express it with his hands] don’t hang on other things.

Bradford

[Imitating Tony’s gesture.] No—things do not hang on other things. In my opinion the woman’s crazy—sittin’ over there on the sand—[A gesture towards the dunes] what’s she lookin’ at? There ain’t nothin’ to see. And I know the woman that works for her’s crazy—Allie Mayo. She’s a Provincetown girl. She was all right once, but—

[Imitating Tony's gesture.] No—things don’t depend on each other. I think the woman’s nuts—sitting over there on the sand—[A gesture towards the dunes] what’s she looking at? There’s nothing to see. And I know the woman who works for her is crazy too—Allie Mayo. She’s from Provincetown. She was fine once, but—

[Mrs. Patrick comes in from the hall at the right. She is a “city woman,” a sophisticated person who has been caught into something as unlike the old life as the dunes are unlike a meadow. At the moment she is excited and angry.

[Mrs. Pat enters from the hall on the right. She is a “city woman,” a sophisticated individual who finds herself in a situation that is as different from her old life as dunes are from a meadow. Right now, she is both excited and angry.]

Mrs. Patrick

Ms. Patrick

You have no right here. This isn’t the life-saving station any more. Just because it used to be—I don’t see why you should think—This is my house! And—I want my house to myself!

You don’t belong here anymore. This isn’t the life-saving station anymore. Just because it used to be, I don’t understand why you think that—This is my house! And—I want my house to myself!

[104]

Captain

[Putting his head through the door. One arm of the man he is working with is raised, and the hand reaches through the doorway.] Well I must say, lady, I would think that any house could be a life-saving station when the sea had sent a man to it.

[Putting his head through the door. One arm of the man he is working with is raised, and the hand reaches through the doorway.] Well, I have to say, ma'am, I would think that any house could serve as a life-saving station when the sea has brought a man to it.

Mrs. Patrick

[Who has turned away so she cannot see the hand.] I don’t want him here! I—[Defiant, yet choking] I must have my house to myself!

[Who has turned away so she cannot see the hand.] I don’t want him here! I—[Defiant, yet choking] I need my house to myself!

Captain

You’ll get your house to yourself when I’ve made up my mind there’s no more life in this man. A good many lives have been saved in this house, Mrs. Patrick—I believe that’s your name—and if there’s any chance of bringing one more back from the dead, the fact that you own the house ain’t goin’ to make a damn bit of difference to me!

You’ll have the house to yourself once I decide there’s no more life left in this man. Many lives have been saved in this house, Mrs. Patrick—I believe that’s your name—and if there’s any chance of bringing one more back to life, the fact that you own the house isn’t going to matter to me at all!

Mrs. Patrick

[In a thin wild way.] I must have my house to myself.

[In a thin wild way.] I need to have my house to myself.

Captain

Hell with such a woman!

Forget that woman!

[105]

[Moves the man he is working with and slams the door shut.

[Pushes the man he's working with and slams the door shut.]

[As the Captain says, “And if there’s any chance of bringing one more back from the dead,” Allie Mayo has appeared outside the wide door which gives on the dunes, a bleak woman, who at first seems little more than a part of the sand before which she stands. But as she listens to this conflict one suspects in her that peculiar intensity of twisted things which grow in unfavoring places.

[As the Captain says, “And if there’s any chance of bringing one more back to life,” Allie Mayo has appeared outside the large door leading to the dunes, a stark woman who at first seems like just another part of the sand in front of her. But as she listens to this conflict, you can sense in her that strange intensity of things twisted and bent that thrive in unwelcoming places.

Mrs. Patrick

I—I don’t want them here! I must—

I—I don’t want them here! I have to—

[But suddenly she retreats, and is gone.

But suddenly, she pulls back and disappears.

Bradford

Well, I couldn’t say, Allie Mayo, that you work for any too kind-hearted a lady. What’s the matter with the woman? Does she want folks to die? Appears to break her all up to see somebody trying to save a life. What d’ you work for such a fish for? A crazy fish—that’s what I call the woman. I’ve seen her—day after day—settin’ over there where the dunes meet the woods, just sittin’ there, lookin’. [Suddenly thinking of it.] I believe she likes to see the sand slippin’ down on the woods. Pleases her to see somethin’ gettin’ buried, I guess.

Well, I can’t say, Allie Mayo, that you work for a very kind-hearted lady. What’s wrong with her? Does she want people to die? It seems to really upset her to see someone trying to save a life. Why are you working for someone like that? A crazy lady—that’s what I call her. I’ve seen her—day after day—sitting over there where the dunes meet the woods, just sitting there, looking. [Suddenly thinking of it.] I believe she likes to see the sand slipping down onto the woods. It probably makes her happy to see something getting buried, I guess.

[Allie Mayo, who has stepped inside the door and moved half across the room, toward the corridor at the right, is arrested by this last—stands a moment as if seeing through something, then slowly on, and out.

[Allie Mayo, who has entered the room and walked halfway across to the corridor on the right, stops at this last part—pauses for a moment as if looking through something, then slowly continues on, and exits.]

Bradford

Some coffee’d taste good. But coffee, in this house? Oh, no. It might make somebody feel better. [Opening[106] the door that was slammed shut.] Want me now, Capt’n?

Some coffee might taste good. But coffee in this house? Oh, no. It might help someone feel better. [Opening[106] the door that was slammed shut.] Do you need me now, Captain?

Captain

No.

Bradford

Oh, that boy’s dead, Capt’n.

Oh, that kid’s dead, Captain.

Captain

[Snarling.] Dannie Sears was dead, too. Shut that door. I don’t want to hear that woman’s voice again, ever.

[Snarling.] Dannie Sears was dead, too. Close that door. I never want to hear that woman's voice again, ever.

[Closing the door and sitting on a bench built into that corner between the big sliding door and the room where the Captain is.

[Closing the door and sitting on a bench built into that corner between the big sliding door and the room where the Captain is.]

Bradford

They’re a cheerful pair of women—livin’ in this cheerful place—a place that life savers had to turn over to the sand—huh! This Patrick woman used to be all right. She and her husband was summer folks over in town. They used to picnic over here on the outside. It was Joe Dyer—he’s always talkin’ to summer folks—told ’em the government was goin’ to build the new station and sell this one by sealed bids. I heard them talkin’ about it. They was sittin’ right down there on the beach, eatin’ their supper. They was goin’ to put in a fire-place and they was goin’ to paint it bright colors, and have parties over here—summer folk notions. Their bid won it—who’d want it?—a buried house you couldn’t move.

They’re a cheerful pair of women—living in this cheerful place—a place that life savers had to abandon to the sand—huh! This Patrick woman used to be nice. She and her husband were summer people over in town. They used to picnic out here. It was Joe Dyer—he’s always chatting with summer folks—who told them the government was going to build a new station and sell this one by sealed bids. I heard them talking about it. They were sitting right down there on the beach, eating their dinner. They were going to install a fireplace, paint it bright colors, and have parties here—summer people ideas. Their bid won—who would want it?—a buried house you couldn’t move.

Tony

I see no bright colors.

I see no vibrant colors.

[107]

Bradford

Don’t you? How astonishin’! You must be color blind. And I guess we’re the first party. [Laughs.] I was in Bill Joseph’s grocery store, one day last November, when in she comes—Mrs. Patrick, from New York. “I’ve come to take the old life-saving station,” says she. “I’m going to sleep over there tonight!” Huh! Bill is used to queer ways—he deals with summer folks, but that got him. November—an empty house, a buried house, you might say, off here on the outside shore—way across the sand from man or beast. He got it out of her, not by what she said, but by the way she looked at what he said, that her husband had died, and she was runnin’ off to hide herself, I guess. A person’d feel sorry for her if she weren’t so stand-offish, and so doggon mean. But mean folks have got minds of their own. She slept here that night. Bill had men hauling things till after dark—bed, stove, coal. And then she wanted somebody to work for her. “Somebody,” says she, “that doesn’t say an unnecessary word!” Well, when Bill come to the back of the store, I said, “Looks to me as if Allie Mayo was the party she’s lookin’ for.” Allie Mayo has got a prejudice against words. Or maybe she likes ’em so well she’s savin’ of ’em. She’s not spoke an unnecessary word for twenty years. She’s got her reasons. Women whose men go to sea ain’t always talkative.

Don’t you? How surprising! You must be color blind. And I guess we’re the first guests. [Laughs.] I was in Bill Joseph’s grocery store one day last November when in she walks—Mrs. Patrick from New York. “I’ve come to take the old life-saving station,” she says. “I’m going to sleep over there tonight!” Huh! Bill’s used to strange folks—he deals with summer people, but that caught him off guard. November—an empty house, a deserted house, you might say, out here on the outer shore—far away across the sand from anyone or anything. He figured it out from how she reacted to what he said, not just by her words, that her husband had died, and she was running off to hide, I guess. People would feel sorry for her if she weren’t so distant and so downright mean. But mean people have their own ways of thinking. She slept here that night. Bill had men hauling things until after dark—bed, stove, coal. And then she wanted someone to work for her. “Somebody,” she says, “who doesn’t say an unnecessary word!” Well, when Bill came to the back of the store, I said, “Looks to me like Allie Mayo is the person she’s looking for.” Allie Mayo has a thing against words. Or maybe she just likes them so much that she’s saving them. She hasn’t said an unnecessary word in twenty years. She has her reasons. Women whose husbands go to sea aren’t always chatty.

[108]

[The Captain comes out. He closes door behind him and stands there beside it. He looks tired and disappointed. Both look at him. Pause.

[The Captain steps out. He shuts the door behind him and stands next to it. He looks exhausted and let down. Both of them stare at him. Pause.

Captain

Wonder who he was.

Wonder who he is.

Bradford

Young. Guess he’s not been much at sea.

Young. I guess he hasn't spent much time at sea.

Captain

I hate to leave even the dead in this house. But we can get right back for him. [A look around.] The old place used to be more friendly. [Moves to outer door, hesitates, hating to leave like this.] Well, Joe, we brought a good many of them back here.

I really don’t want to leave even the deceased in this house. But we can come back for him. [A look around.] This old place used to feel more inviting. [Moves to outer door, hesitates, hating to leave like this.] Well, Joe, we’ve brought quite a few of them back here.

Bradford

Dannie Sears is tendin’ bar in Boston now.

Dannie Sears is bartending in Boston now.

[The three men go; as they are going around the drift of sand Allie Mayo comes in carrying a pot of coffee; sees them leaving, puts down the coffee pot, looks to the door the Captain has closed, moves toward it, as if drawn. Mrs. Patrick follows her in.

[The three men leave; as they walk around the sand drift, Allie Mayo comes in carrying a coffee pot. She sees them leaving, sets down the coffee pot, looks at the door that the Captain has closed, and moves toward it, as if compelled. Mrs. Patrick follows her in.]

Mrs. Patrick

They’ve gone?

They left?

[Mrs. Mayo nods, facing the closed door.

Mrs. Mayo nods, looking at the closed door.

Mrs. Patrick

And they’re leaving—him? [Again the other woman nods.] Then he’s—? [Mrs. Mayo just stands there.] They have no right—just because it used to be their place—! I want my house to myself!

[109]

[Snatches her coat and scarf from a hook and starts through the big door toward the dunes.

[Grabs her coat and scarf from a hook and heads through the big door toward the dunes.]

Allie Mayo

Wait.

Hold on.

[When she has said it she sinks into that corner seat—as if overwhelmed by what she has done. The other woman is held.

[After she says it, she collapses into that corner seat, as if overwhelmed by what she just did. The other woman is left speechless.]

Allie Mayo

[To herself.] If I could say that, I can say more. [Looking at the woman she has arrested, but speaking more to herself.] That boy in there—his face—uncovered something—[Her open hand on her chest. But she waits, as if she cannot go on; when she speaks it is in labored way—slow, monotonous, as if snowed in by silent years.] For twenty years, I did what you are doing. And I can tell you—it’s not the way. [Her voice has fallen to a whisper; she stops, looking ahead at something remote and veiled.] We had been married—two years. [A start, as of sudden pain. Says it again, as if to make herself say it.] Married—two years. He had a chance to go north on a whaler. Times hard. He had to go. A year and a half—it was to be. A year and a half. Two years we’d been married.

[To herself.] If I can say that, I can say more. [Looking at the woman she has arrested, but speaking more to herself.] That boy in there—his face—revealed something—[Her open hand on her chest. But she waits, as if she cannot continue; when she speaks, it’s in a labored way—slow, monotonous, as if buried under years of silence.] For twenty years, I did what you're doing. And I can tell you—it’s not the way. [Her voice has dropped to a whisper; she stops, gazing ahead at something distant and obscured.] We had been married—two years. [A start, as if sudden pain. She says it again, as if trying to make herself say it.] Married—two years. He had a chance to go north on a whaler. Times were tough. He had to go. A year and a half—it was supposed to be. A year and a half. Two years we’d been married.

[She sits silent, moving a little back and forth.

[She sits quietly, rocking a bit back and forth.]

The day he went away. [Not spoken, but breathed from pain.] The days after he was gone.

The day he left. [Not spoken, but felt deep from the pain.] The days that followed his departure.

I heard at first. Last letter said farther north—not another chance to write till on the way home.

I heard it first. The last letter said farther north—not another chance to write until I'm on the way home.

[110]

[A wait.

A wait.

Six months. Another. I did not hear. [Long wait.] Nobody ever heard.

Six months. Another one. I didn’t hear anything. [Long wait.] Nobody ever heard anything.

[After it seems she is held there, and will not go on.] I used to talk as much as any girl in Provincetown. Jim used to tease me about my talking. But they’d come in to talk to me. They’d say—“You may hear yet.” They’d talk about what must have happened. And one day a woman who’d been my friend all my life said—“Suppose he was to walk in!” I got up and drove her from my kitchen—and from that time till this I’ve not said a word I didn’t have to say. [She has become almost wild in telling this. That passes. In a whisper.] The ice that caught Jim—caught me. [A moment as if held in ice. Comes from it. To Mrs. Patrick simply.] It’s not the way. [A sudden change.] You’re not the only woman in the world whose husband is dead!

[After it seems she is held there, and will not go on.] I used to chat just as much as any girl in Provincetown. Jim would tease me about how much I talked. But they’d come around to talk to me. They’d say—“You might hear yet.” They’d speculate about what must have happened. Then one day, a woman who had been my friend my whole life said—“What if he just walked in!” I stood up and kicked her out of my kitchen—and since that moment, I haven’t said a word I didn’t need to say. [She has become almost wild in telling this. That passes. In a whisper.] The ice that trapped Jim—trapped me. [A moment as if held in ice. Comes from it. To Mrs. Pat simply.] It’s not the way. [A sudden change.] You’re not the only woman in the world whose husband is dead!

Mrs. Patrick

[With the cry of the hurt.] Dead? My husband’s not dead.

Allie Mayo

He’s not? [Slowly understands.] Oh.

He’s not? [Slowly understands.] Oh.

[The woman in the door is crying. Suddenly picks up her coat which has fallen to the floor and steps outside.

[The woman in the doorway is crying. She suddenly grabs her coat, which has fallen to the floor, and steps outside.]

Allie Mayo

[Almost failing to do it.] Wait.

[Barely managing to do it.] Wait.

Mrs. Patrick

Mrs. Pat

Wait? Don’t you think you’ve said enough? They told me you didn’t say an unnecessary word!

Wait? Don’t you think you’ve said enough? They told me you didn’t waste your breath!

[111]

Allie Mayo

I don’t.

I don't.

Mrs. Patrick

And you can see, I should think, that you’ve bungled into things you know nothing about!

And you can see, I guess, that you've messed up with things you don't know anything about!

[As she speaks, and crying under her breath, she pushes the sand by the door down on the half buried grass—though not as if knowing what she is doing.

[As she talks, quietly crying to herself, she pushes the sand by the door down onto the partially buried grass—though it doesn’t seem like she knows what she’s doing.]

Allie Mayo

[Slowly.] When you keep still for twenty years you know—things you didn’t know you knew. I know why you’re doing that. [She looks up at her, startled.] Don’t bury the only thing that will grow. Let it grow.

[Slowly.] When you stay put for twenty years, you learn things you didn’t even realize you knew. I understand why you’re doing that. [She looks up at her, startled.] Don’t bury the only thing that can grow. Let it grow.

[The woman outside still crying under her breath turns abruptly and starts toward the line where dunes and woods meet.

[The woman outside, still quietly crying to herself, suddenly turns and heads towards the line where the dunes meet the woods.]

Allie Mayo

I know where you’re going! [Mrs. Patrick turns, but not as if she wants to.] What you’ll try to do. Over there. [Pointing to the line of woods.] Bury it. The life in you. Bury it—watching the sand bury the woods. But I’ll tell you something! They fight too. The woods! They fight for life the way that Captain fought for life in there!

I know where you're headed! [Ms. Patrick turns, but not like she wants to.] What you’re planning to do. Over there. [Pointing to the line of woods.] Bury it. The life inside you. Bury it—watching the sand cover the woods. But let me tell you something! They fight too. The woods! They fight for life just like the Captain fought for his life in there!

[Pointing to the closed door.

[Pointing at the closed door.

Mrs. Patrick

[With a strange exultation.] And lose the way he lost in there!

[With a strange sense of joy.] And lose the way he got lost in there!

[112]

Allie Mayo

[Sure, sombre.] They don’t lose.

[Sure, serious.] They don’t lose.

Mrs. Patrick

Don’t lose? [Triumphant.] I have walked on the tops of buried trees!

Don’t lose? [Triumphant.] I have walked on the tops of hidden trees!

Allie Mayo

[Slow, sombre, yet large.] And vines will grow over the sand that covers the trees, and hold it. And other trees will grow above the buried trees.

[Slow, dark, yet big.] And vines will spread over the sand that covers the trees and keep it in place. And other trees will grow above the buried trees.

Mrs. Patrick

Mrs. Pat

I’ve watched the sand slip down on the vines that reach out farthest.

I’ve seen the sand fall down on the vines that stretch out the farthest.

Allie Mayo

Another vine will reach that spot. [Under her breath, tenderly.] Strange little things that reach out farthest!

Another vine will reach that spot. [Quietly, with affection.] Odd little things that stretch out the farthest!

Mrs. Patrick

And will be buried soonest!

And will be buried ASAP!

Allie Mayo

And hold the sand for things behind them. They save a wood that guards a town.

And hold the sand for the things behind them. They save a forest that protects a town.

Mrs. Patrick

I care nothing about a woods to guard a town. This is the outside—these dunes where only beach grass grows, this outer shore where men can’t live.[113] The Outside. You who were born here and who die here have named it that.

I don’t care at all about a forest protecting a town. This is the outside—these dunes where only beach grass grows, this outer shore where people can’t survive.[113] The Outside. You who were born here and who die here have named it that.

Allie Mayo

Yes, we named it that, and we had reason. He died here [Reaches her hand toward the closed door] and many a one before him. But many another reached the harbor! [Slowly raises her arm, bends it to make the form of the Cape. Touches the outside of her bent arm.] The Outside. But an arm that bends to make a harbor—where men are safe.

Yes, we named it that for a reason. He died here [Reaches her hand toward the closed door] and many others before him. But many others made it to the harbor! [Slowly raises her arm, bends it to make the form of the Cape. Touches the outside of her bent arm.] The Outside. But an arm that bends to create a harbor—where men are safe.

Mrs. Patrick

I’m outside the harbor—on the dunes, land not life.

Allie Mayo

Dunes meet woods and woods hold dunes from a town that’s shore to a harbor.

Dunes connect with the woods, and the woods protect the dunes from a town that borders the shore and the harbor.

Mrs. Patrick

This is the Outside. Sand. [Picking some of it up in her hand and letting it fall on the beach grass.] Sand that covers—hills of sand that move and cover.

This is the outside. Sand. [Picking some of it up in her hand and letting it fall on the beach grass.] Sand that covers—hills of sand that shift and cover.

Allie Mayo

Woods. Woods to hold the moving hills from Provincetown. Provincetown—where they turn when boats can’t live at sea. Did you ever see the sails come round here when the sky is dark? A line of them—swift to the harbor—where their children live. Go back! [Pointing.] Back to your edge of the woods that’s the edge of the dunes.

Woods. Woods that cradle the shifting hills from Provincetown. Provincetown—where boats turn when they can't handle the sea. Did you ever see the sails come around here when the sky is gloomy? A line of them—rushing to the harbor—where their families are. Go back! [Pointing.] Back to your side of the woods that’s the edge of the dunes.

[114]

Mrs. Patrick

The edge of life. Where life trails off to dwarfed things not worth a name.

The edge of life. Where life fades into small things that aren't even worth naming.

[Suddenly sits down in the doorway.

Allie Mayo

Not worth a name. And—meeting the Outside!

[Big with the sense of the wonder of life.

Full of the awe of life.

Mrs. Patrick

[Lifting sand and letting it drift through her hand.] They’re what the sand will let them be. They take strange shapes like shapes of blown sand.

[Lifting sand and letting it drift through her hand.] They are whatever the sand allows them to be. They take on odd forms like shapes created by the windblown sand.

Allie Mayo

Meeting the Outside. [Moving nearer; speaking more personally.] I know why you came here. To this house that had been given up; on this shore where only savers of life try to live. I know what holds you on these dunes, and draws you over there. But other things are true beside the things you want to see.

Meeting the Outside. [Moving nearer; speaking more personally.] I know why you came here. To this house that had been abandoned; on this shore where only those who value life try to survive. I understand what keeps you on these dunes, and pulls you over there. But other truths exist alongside the things you want to see.

Mrs. Patrick

How do you know they are? Where have you been for twenty years?

How do you know they are? Where have you been for the last twenty years?

Allie Mayo

Outside. Twenty years. That’s why I know how brave they are. [Indicating the edge of the woods. Suddenly different.] You’ll not find peace there again! Go back and watch them fight!

Outside. Twenty years. That’s why I know how brave they are. [Pointing to the edge of the woods. It suddenly feels different.] You won’t find peace there again! Go back and watch them fight!

[115]

Mrs. Patrick

[Swiftly rising.] You’re a cruel woman—a hard, insolent woman! I knew what I was doing! What do you know about it? About me? I didn’t go to the Outside. I was left there. I’m only—trying to get along. Everything that can hurt me I want buried—buried deep. Spring is here. This morning I knew it. Spring—coming through the storm—to take me—take me to hurt me. That’s why I couldn’t bear—[She looks at the closed door] things that made me know I feel. You haven’t felt for so long you don’t know what it means! But I tell you, Spring is here! And now you’d take that from me—[Looking now toward the edge of the woods] the thing that made me know they would be buried in my heart—those things I can’t live and know I feel. You’re more cruel than the sea! “But other things are true beside the things you want to see!” Outside. Springs will come when I will not know that it is spring. [As if resentful of not more deeply believing what she says.] What would there be for me but the Outside? What was there for you? What did you ever find after you lost the thing you wanted?

[Swiftly rising.] You’re a cruel woman—a tough, defiant woman! I knew what I was doing! What do you know about it? About me? I didn’t go to the Outside. I was left there. I’m just—trying to get by. Everything that can hurt me, I want buried—buried deep. Spring is here. This morning I knew it. Spring—breaking through the storm—to take me—take me to hurt me. That’s why I couldn’t stand—[She looks at the closed door] things that made me aware I feel. You haven’t felt in so long you don’t know what it means! But I’m telling you, Spring is here! And now you’d take that from me—[Looking now toward the edge of the woods] the thing that made me realize they would be buried in my heart—those things I can’t live with and know I feel. You’re crueler than the sea! “But other truths exist beyond the things you want to see!” Outside. Springs will come when I won’t even know it’s spring. [As if resentful of not more deeply believing what she says.] What would there be for me but the Outside? What was there for you? What did you ever find after you lost the thing you wanted?

Allie Mayo

I found—what I find now I know. The edge of life—to hold life behind me—

I found—what I realize now I know. The boundary of life—to keep life behind me—

[A slight gesture toward Mrs. Patrick.

A small gesture toward Mrs. Patrick.

Mrs. Patrick

Mrs. Pat

[Stepping back.] You call what you are life? [Laughs.] Bleak as those ugly things that grow in the sand!

[Stepping back.] You really call that life? [Laughs.] It's as grim as those nasty things that grow in the sand!

[116]

Allie Mayo

[Under her breath, as one who speaks tenderly of beauty.] Ugly!

[Softly, like someone who speaks fondly about beauty.] Ugly!

Mrs. Patrick

[Passionately.] I have known life. I have known life. You’re like this Cape. A line of land way out to sea—land not life.

[Passionately.] I have experienced life. I have known life. You’re like this Cape. A stretch of land far out to sea—land that's not life.

Allie Mayo

A harbor far at sea. [Raises her arm, curves it in as if around something she loves.] Land that encloses and gives shelter from storm.

A harbor far out at sea. [Raises her arm, curves it in as if around something she loves.] Land that surrounds and provides shelter from the storm.

Mrs. Patrick

Mrs. Pat

[Facing the sea, as if affirming what will hold all else out.] Outside sea. Outer shore. Dunes—land not life.

[Facing the sea, as if confirming what will keep everything else away.] Outside ocean. Outer beach. Dunes—land without life.

Allie Mayo

Outside sea—outer shore, dark with the wood that once was ships—dunes, strange land not life—woods, town and harbor. The line! Stunted straggly line that meets the Outside face to face—and fights for what itself can never be. Lonely line. Brave growing.

Outside sea—outer shore, dark with the wood that once made ships—dunes, a strange land devoid of life—woods, town, and harbor. The line! A stunted, scraggly line that faces the Outside directly—and battles for what it can never become. A lonely line. A brave struggle for growth.

Mrs. Patrick

It loses.

It doesn't win.

Allie Mayo

It wins.

Mrs. Patrick

Mrs. Pat

The farthest life is buried.

[117]

Allie Mayo

And life grows over buried life! [Lifted into that; then, as one who states a simple truth with feeling.] It will. And Springs will come when you will want to know that it is Spring.

And life grows on top of buried life! [Lifted into that; then, as someone who expresses a simple truth with emotion.] It will. And spring will come when you want to know that it is spring.

[The Captain and Bradford appear behind the drift of sand. They have a stretcher. To get away from them Mrs. Patrick steps farther into the room; Allie Mayo shrinks into her corner. The men come in, open the closed door and go in the room where they left the dead man. A moment later they are seen outside the big open door, bearing the man away. Mrs. Patrick watches them from sight.

[The Captain and Bradford appear from behind the sand drift. They have a stretcher. To avoid them, Mrs. Pat steps further into the room; Allie Mayo shrinks into her corner. The men come in, open the closed door, and enter the room where they left the deceased. A moment later, they are seen outside the large open door, carrying the man away. Ms. Patrick watches them from a distance.

Mrs. Patrick

[Bitter, exultant.] Savers of life! [To Allie Mayo.] You savers of life! “Meeting the Outside!” Meeting—[But she cannot say it mockingly again; in saying it, something of what it means has broken through, rises. Herself lost, feeling her way into the wonder of life.] Meeting the Outside!

[Bitter, exultant.] Savers of life! [To Allie Mayo.] You savers of life! “Meeting the Outside!” Meeting—[But she can’t say it mockingly again; in saying it, something of what it means has broken through, rises. She’s lost, feeling her way into the wonder of life.] Meeting the Outside!

[It grows in her as slowly.

[It grows in her just as slowly.]

(Curtain)

Curtain

[119]

WOMAN’S HONOR
A COMEDY IN ONE ACT

WOMAN’S HONOR
A One-Act Comedy

First Performed by the Provincetown Players,
April 26, 1918

First performed by the Provincetown Players,
April 26, 1918

Mr. Foster, The Lawyer		Justus Sheffield
Gordon Wallace, The Prisoner		Clark Branyon
Kid		Murray Cooper
The Protected One		Marjory Lacey
The Nurturing One		Dorothy Upjohn
The Hateful One	The	Ida Rauh
The Fun One	Women	Norma Millay
The Mercenary 1		Alice Macdougal
The Betrayed One		Susan Glaspell

[121]

WOMAN’S HONOR

Scene: A room in the sheriff’s house which is used for conferences. At the rear is a door into the hall, at the left a door leads to an adjoining room. There is also a door at the right, going to the corridor which connects this house with the jail.

Scene: A room in the sheriff's house that is used for meetings. At the back is a door leading to the hallway, to the left a door opens to a connected room. There's also a door on the right that goes to the corridor linking this house with the jail.

Lawyer and Prisoner are found in heated conversation. The prisoner, an attractive young man, is seated, and has just turned away from the Lawyer, irritated.

Attorney and Inmate are in a heated conversation. The prisoner, a handsome young man, is sitting down and has just turned away from the Attorney, annoyed.

Lawyer

Do you know that murder is no laughing matter?

Do you realize that murder is a serious issue?

Prisoner

Inmate

Well, was I laughing?

Was I laughing?

Lawyer

Attorney

[Shoots it at him.] Where were you on the night of October 25? [Prisoner sits like one who never means to speak again.] Your silence shields a woman’s honor. Do you know what’s going to be said of you? You’re going to be called old-fashioned! [A worried look flits over the prisoner’s face.] A man will not tell where he is because it involves a woman’s honor! How quaint! [In a different voice.] Say, do you think she’s worth it?

[Shoots it at him.] Where were you on the night of October 25? [Inmate sits like someone who has no intention of speaking again.] Your silence protects a woman's reputation. Do you know what people are going to say about you? They're going to call you outdated! [A worried look crosses the prisoner’s face.] A man won’t say where he was because it involves a woman's honor! How charming! [In a different voice.] So, do you think she’s worth it?

[Prisoner rises angrily.

Prisoner stands up angrily.

Yes, get red in the face, I should think you would. Blush. Blush for shame. Shame of having loved a woman who’d let a man face death to shield her own honor!

Yes, I can see you getting flushed. Blush. Blush out of shame. Shame for having loved a woman who would let a man face death to protect her own honor!

[122]

Prisoner

Inmate

You don’t know what you’re talking about.

You have no idea what you're talking about.

Lawyer

Attorney

It’s just like a woman, the cowards. That’s what I most despise in women. Afraid they won’t be looked upon as the pure noble sensitive souls they spend their lives trying to make us believe they are. Sickening!

It’s just like women, those cowards. That’s what I hate most in women. They’re afraid they won’t be seen as the pure, noble, sensitive souls they spend their lives trying to make us think they are. It’s disgusting!

Prisoner

Inmate

There are things you don’t understand.

There are things you don't get.

Lawyer

Attorney

Oh, yes, I do. I suppose she’s got a husband. I suppose he’d divorce her. Then she wouldn’t be asked out to tea quite so often. Good Lord—die for something real!

Oh, yes, I do. I guess she’s got a husband. I bet he’d divorce her. Then she wouldn’t get asked out for tea as often. Good Lord—die for something real!

Prisoner

Inmate

You and I have different ideals, Mr. Foster. There are things we don’t discuss.

You and I have different ideals, Mr. Foster. There are things we don’t talk about.

Lawyer

There are things we have to discuss. If you insist upon this romantic course, then at least we will have to get something out of that.

There are things we need to talk about. If you’re set on this romantic path, then at least we should get something out of that.

Prisoner

Inmate

What do you mean?

Lawyer

Attorney

Simply that public feeling has got to swing toward[123] you or the jury will say you murdered Erwalt. If we can’t have an alibi, let us by all means have a hero!

Simply put, public opinion needs to shift in your favor[123] or the jury will convict you of murdering Erwalt. If we can't have an alibi, then let's definitely have a hero!

Prisoner

Inmate

[Outraged.] Have you given out a story to the newspapers?

[Outraged.] Have you shared a story with the newspapers?

Lawyer

Attorney

[Drawing paper from his pocket.] Very delicately done. “A life for a life.” Isn’t that moving? “While Gordon Wallace languishes in his cell, some woman is safe in a shielded home. Charged with the murder of John Erwalt, young Wallace fails to cut his chain of circumstantial evidence with an alibi. Where was Gordon Wallace on the night of October 25? He maintains a dogged silence. Behind that silence rests a woman’s honor”—and so on, at some length.

[Drawing paper from his pocket.] Very delicately done. “A life for a life.” Isn’t that touching? “While Gordon Wallace sits in his cell, some woman is safe in her protected home. Charged with the murder of John Erwalt, young Wallace can't break the chain of circumstantial evidence with an alibi. Where was Gordon Wallace on the night of October 25? He keeps silent. Behind that silence lies a woman’s honor”—and so on, at some length.

Prisoner

Inmate

You had no right to give out a story without my consent!

You had no right to share a story without my permission!

Lawyer

Attorney

Oh, yes, I have. If I can’t get your consent for saving your life, then, my young friend, I shall save it without your consent. Pardon my rudeness.

Oh, yes, I have. If I can’t get your permission to save your life, then, my young friend, I’ll save it without your permission. Sorry for being rude.

Prisoner

Inmate

How will this save it?

How will this help?

Lawyer

Attorney

How little romantic young men know the romantic sex. Wives—including, I hope, jurors’ wives—will cry, “Don’t let that chivalrous young man die!”[124] Women just love to have their honor shielded. It is very touching to them.

How little romantic young men understand the romantic side of women. Wives—including, I hope, the wives of jurors—will cry, “Don’t let that chivalrous young man die!”[124] Women really appreciate having their honor protected. It means a lot to them.

Prisoner

Inmate

Mr. Foster, I tell you again, I dislike your attitude toward women! Laugh at me if you will, but I have respect and reverence for women. I believe it is perfectly true that men must guard them. Call me a romantic young fool if it pleases you, but I have had a mother—a sister—sweetheart. Yes, I am ready to die to shield a woman’s honor!

Mr. Foster, I’ll say it again, I really dislike your attitude toward women! Go ahead and laugh at me if you want, but I have respect and admiration for women. I truly believe that men need to protect them. Call me a romantic young fool if that makes you happy, but I’ve had a mother—a sister—a girlfriend. Yes, I’m willing to die to protect a woman’s honor!

[As he says this the door slowly opens and a woman steps in.

[As he says this, the door slowly opens and a woman walks in.]

Shielded One

Protected One

No! You shall not!

No! You can't!

[Quite taken aback, the men stand looking at her. She has breeding, poise—obviously she has stepped out of a world where women are shielded. She maintains a front of her usual composure, but there is an intensity—an excitement—which indicates she is feeling some big new thing. Lawyer looks from her to the Prisoner, who is staring at the Woman.

[Clearly surprised, the men stand there looking at her. She has grace and confidence—it's obvious she’s come from a world where women are protected. She keeps up her usual calm demeanor, but there’s an intensity—an excitement—that shows she’s experiencing something significant. Attorney looks from her to the Inmate, who is staring at the Woman.]

Lawyer

Attorney

[To Woman.] Oh—you’ve come?

[To Woman.] Oh—you’re here?

Shielded One

Protected One

[Firmly, but with emotion.] I have come.

[Firmly, but with emotion.] I'm here.

[125]

Prisoner

Inmate

I don’t understand.

I don't get it.

Lawyer

Attorney

You were not willing to let him die?

You weren't willing to let him die?

Shielded One

Protected One

No.

Lawyer

Attorney

Good. This young man—[He pauses, embarrassed, for it does not seem a thing to say to this lady] was with you on the night of October 25?

Good. This young man—[He pauses, embarrassed, for it doesn't seem right to say this to her] was with you on the night of October 25?

Shielded One

Protected One

Yes.

Prisoner

Inmate

Why, no I wasn’t.

No, I wasn't.

Lawyer

Attorney

There is no use, Gordon, in trying to keep the lady from doing what she has apparently determined to do.

There’s no point, Gordon, in trying to stop the lady from doing what she clearly intends to do.

Shielded One

Protected One

No. You cannot keep me from doing what I have determined to do.

No. You can't stop me from doing what I've decided to do.

Lawyer

Attorney

For my part, I respect you for it. Then you are prepared to testify that on the night of October 25 Gordon Wallace was with you from twelve o’clock midnight till eight next morning?

For my part, I respect you for that. So you're ready to say that on the night of October 25, Gordon Wallace was with you from midnight until eight the next morning?

Shielded One

Protected One

[A little falteringly, yet fervent.] Yes.

[A bit hesitant, but passionate.] Yes.

[126]

Lawyer

Attorney

Was with you—continuously?

Were you always there?

Shielded One

Protected One

Yes.

Lawyer

Attorney

Your name is—?

What's your name?

[He takes out his note-book.

He takes out his notebook.

Prisoner

Inmate

[In distress.] Don’t give him your name! He’ll use it! I tell you this is all a mistake. I don’t know this lady. I never saw her before. [To the Woman.] You mustn’t do this!

[In distress.] Don’t tell him your name! He’ll use it! I swear, this is all a misunderstanding. I don’t know this woman. I’ve never seen her before. [To the Woman.] You can’t do this!

Shielded One

Protected One

[Proudly, and with relief.] I have done it!

Proudly and with relief. I did it!

Lawyer

Attorney

And as I said, madam, I greatly respect you for doing it. You are, if I may say so, unlike most of your sex. Now—your name?

And as I mentioned, ma'am, I really admire you for doing it. You are, if I may say, different from most women. Now—what's your name?

Shielded One

Protected One

[This is not easy for her.] Mrs. Oscar Duncan.

Lawyer

Attorney

And Mrs. Duncan you live at—? [A noise in the hall.] I fear some one is coming in. Will you just step in here?

And Mrs. Duncan, where do you live? [A noise in the hall.] I think someone is coming in. Could you just step in here?

[127]

[He shows her into the room at the left. They hear the corridor door open and turn. A woman is coming in—rather plump, middle-aged—a pleasant, motherly looking woman. She looks from the Lawyer to the Prisoner, moves to get a better look at the young man, who becomes nervous under this scrutiny; then she seems to have it straight in her mind, nods pleasantly.

[He leads her into the room on the left. They hear the corridor door open and look over. A woman walks in—she’s a bit plump, middle-aged—a nice, motherly-looking woman. She glances from the Attorney to the Inmate, steps closer to get a better view of the young man, who starts to feel anxious under her gaze; then she seems to understand everything and nods kindly.]

Motherly One

Mom

[Cheerily.] Good morning.

Good morning!

Lawyer

Attorney

Good morning.

Good morning!

Motherly One

Momma Bear

[To Prisoner.] Good morning.

[To Prisoner.] Morning.

Prisoner

Inmate

[Not cheerily.] Good morning.

Good morning.

Motherly One

Mom

There was no one out there, so I just walked right in. [Lawyer nods.] I thought you might be glad to see me.

There was nobody around, so I just walked right in. [Attorney nods.] I figured you might be happy to see me.

Lawyer

Attorney

Oh—we are. [To Gordon.] Aren’t we?

Oh—we are. [To Gordon.] Right?

Motherly One

Mom

I suppose I am in the right place.

I guess I'm in the right spot.

Lawyer

Attorney

Well, it is the right place for some things.

Well, it’s the right spot for certain things.

[128]

Motherly One

Mom

Is it the place to tell the truth about Gordon Wallace?

Is this the right place to reveal the truth about Gordon Wallace?

Lawyer

It seems to be.

It appears to be.

Motherly One

Mom

[Very cheerfully.] Well, then, on the night of October 25 that young man—[Steps for a better look at the Prisoner] this young man—was with me.

[Very cheerfully.] Well, on the night of October 25, that young man—[Steps for a better look at the Inmate] this young man—was with me.

Lawyer

Attorney

From twelve o’clock midnight until eight next morning?

From midnight until eight the next morning?

Motherly One

Mom

[Placidly.] From twelve o’clock midnight till eight next morning.

[Calmly.] From midnight until eight the next morning.

[She takes a muffler from her bag and sits down and begins to knit.

She pulls a scarf out of her bag, sits down, and starts knitting.

Lawyer

Attorney

Was with you—continuously?

Were you with me all along?

Motherly One

Mom

Oh, certainly—continuously.

Oh, for sure—always.

[She knits serenely on.

She knits peacefully.

Lawyer

Attorney

Well—Gordon.

Well, Gordon.

Motherly One

Mom

[Pleasantly.] It seems that mufflers get longer and longer. [Looking up at Lawyer.] Doesn’t it?

[Pleasantly.] It seems that mufflers just keep getting longer. [Looking up at Attorney.] Don’t you think?

[129]

Lawyer

Attorney

Why—perhaps they do. But—you are willing to leave your name and address?

Why—maybe they do. But—are you really willing to leave your name and address?

Motherly One

Mom

Certainly, I’m willing to leave my name and address. What else would I be here for? Oh—but could I use the telephone first. [Rises.] It will be better to let them know that I’ll probably be late getting home for lunch.

Certainly, I'm happy to provide my name and address. What else would I be here for? Oh—but could I use the phone first? [Rises.] It'll be better to let them know that I'll probably be late getting home for lunch.

Lawyer

Attorney

[Is about to open door of the room in which the Shielded One is waiting.] No—there’s some one in there. Here [Going to the door at the other side of the room], I’ll show you how to get through to the jail phone.

[Is about to open the door to the room where the Protected One is waiting.] No—there's someone in there. Here [Going to the door on the other side of the room], I'll show you how to get to the jail phone.

Motherly One

Mother Figure

The jail! But we’ll soon have you out of jail.

The jail! But we’ll get you out of here soon.

[130]

[She goes, giving the young man an encouraging smile. The Lawyer steps out with her. The young man hears the rear door opening—this door into the hall has a slight squeak—starts nervously, looks around to see a young woman come in. In a keen, cool amused way she is staring at him. He turns away, petulantly hitching his chair. She moves where she can see him better, takes from her bag a newspaper picture, looks from it to him. He turns, sees what she is doing; she smiles at him. He looks like one at bay. Enter Lawyer. Sees what is going on, smiles.

She leaves, giving the young man an encouraging smile. The Attorney steps out with her. The young man hears the rear door open—this door to the hallway has a slight squeak—jumps nervously, looks around to see a young woman enter. She stares at him in a sharp, cool, amused way. He turns away, fidgeting with his chair. She moves to a spot where she can see him better, takes a newspaper picture out of her bag, and looks from it to him. He turns and sees what she’s doing; she smiles at him. He looks like someone trapped. Enter Attorney. He notices what's happening and smiles.

Lawyer

Attorney

On the night of October 25—?

Scornful One

Judgmental Person

[To Lawyer.] I understand that down here a man is about to die for a woman’s honor.

[To Attorney.] I understand that someone here is about to die for a woman's honor.

Lawyer

Attorney

He had some such thing in mind.

He had something like that in mind.

Scornful One

Contemptuous One

[To Lawyer.] Now you can’t get away with that. Sorry to upset your plans, but the death seems uncalled for. On the night of October 25—Gordon Wallace was with me.

[To Attorney.] You can’t just get away with that. Sorry to ruin your plans, but the death seems unnecessary. On the night of October 25—Gordon Wallace was with me.

Lawyer

Attorney

From twelve o’clock midnight till eight next morning?

From midnight until eight in the morning?

Scornful One

From twelve o’clock midnight until eight next morning.

From midnight until eight in the morning.

Lawyer

Attorney

[Rather feebly.] Con-tinuously?

Weakly? Continuously?

Scornful One

Snarky One

[In an offhand voice.] Continuously.

In a casual tone. Continuously.

[131]

Lawyer

Attorney

Well—well, Gordon, I begin to understand why you hesitated to tell the truth about that momentous night. Rise and thank the lady, Gordon; it would seem the least you could do would be to rise and—

Well—well, Gordon, I’m starting to see why you held back from sharing the truth about that significant night. Stand up and thank the lady, Gordon; it seems the least you could do is to stand up and—

[As he is saying this to Gordon, in rushes a fussily dressed hysterical woman and throws her arms around the Lawyer’s neck.

[As he says this to Gordon, a nervously dressed, dramatic woman rushes in and wraps her arms around the Attorney’s neck.

Silly One

Goofball

Darling! I cannot let you die for me!

Darling! I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me!

Lawyer

Attorney

[Trying to free himself.] Pardon me, madam, but—

[Trying to free himself.] Excuse me, ma'am, but—

Silly One

Gordon! You call me madam after that night together. Oh my beloved, when I think of those hours I lay in your arms—

Gordon! You call me 'ma'am' after that night we spent together. Oh my love, when I think of those hours I lay in your arms—

Lawyer

Attorney

Pardon me, but you never lay in—

Silly One

Goofball

I know. Ah—I understand. You pretend not to know me. You would die to shield me—but you shall not! You cannot escape me!

I get it. Ah—I see. You act like you don’t know me. You’d do anything to protect me—but you won’t! You can’t get away from me!

Lawyer

Attorney

[Still unsuccessful in freeing himself.] Apparently not. But permit me to tell you, you are making a mistake.

[Still unsuccessful in freeing himself.] Clearly not. But let me tell you, you’re making a mistake.

[132]

Silly One

Goofball

No! I am not making a mistake! You shall not die for me.

No! I am not making a mistake! You won't die for me.

Lawyer

Attorney

I really don’t intend to—if I can help it.

I really don’t plan to—if I can avoid it.

Silly One

Love is so beautiful. So ennobling! [Overcome with emotion, loosens her hold.] When I think of that night—October 25—

Love is so beautiful. So uplifting! [Overcome with emotion, loosens her hold.] When I think of that night—October 25—

[Sinks into a chair.

Sinks into a chair.

Lawyer

Attorney

[After settling his collar.] Well, Gordon, have you a choice? [Pause.] You see you didn’t understand women as well as you thought.

[After adjusting his collar.] So, Gordon, do you have a choice? [Pause.] You see, you didn’t understand women as well as you believed.

Prisoner

Inmate

[Fiercely.] Neither did you!

[Fiercely.] You didn't either!

[The Sheriff’s Boy comes in.

The Sheriff’s Boy comes in.

Boy

Kid

While I was over at the bank, women came.

While I was at the bank, women arrived.

Lawyer

Attorney

Yes, I know.

Yep, I get it.

Boy

[Looking at the two women in the room.] But more women. [Prisoner starts in terror.] Six women are out there.

[Looking at the two women in the room.] But more women. [Inmate starts in fear.] Six women are out there.

[133]

Prisoner

Inmate

Don’t let them in!

Lawyer

Attorney

Tell the ladies we shall not need them. Thank them for coming. [Boy goes out. To Prisoner.] Well, come now. What shall we do with this embarrassment of—generosity? You see dying for a woman’s honor isn’t as easy as you might think. It even looks as though there were a sort of conspiracy against it.

Tell the ladies we won’t need them. Thank them for coming. [Kid exits. To Inmate.] Alright then. What should we do about this awkward situation of—generosity? You see, dying for a woman’s honor isn’t as simple as you might expect. It almost seems like there’s some kind of conspiracy against it.

Prisoner

Inmate

I’m not going to be made a fool of.

I’m not going to let anyone make a fool out of me.

Lawyer

Attorney

Are you sure you can help it?

Are you sure you can handle it?

[The Boy comes back, looking worried.

The boy returns, looking worried.

Boy

Some of those women won’t go away. I don’t know what to do with them.

Some of those women just won't leave. I don't know how to handle them.

Lawyer

Attorney

No, it’s not a matter the young can cope with.

No, it's not something the young can handle.

[He goes out with the Boy. The amused young Woman sits looking the Prisoner over, to his embarrassment and final irritation.

[He goes out with the Boy. The entertained young Woman sits observing the Inmate, causing him to feel embarrassed and eventually annoyed.

Scornful One

So you were thinking of dying for a woman’s honor. [He says nothing.] Now do you think that’s a very[134] nice way to treat the lady? [He turns away petulantly.] Seems to me you should think of her feelings. Have you a right to ruin her life?

So you were thinking of dying for a woman’s honor. [He says nothing.] Do you really think that's a nice way to treat her? [He turns away petulantly.] It seems to me you should consider her feelings. Do you have the right to ruin her life?

Prisoner

Inmate

[Startled into speech.] Ruin her life?

Startled into speaking. Ruin her life?

Scornful One

Why certainly. A life that somebody has died for is practically a ruined life. For how are you going to think of it as anything but—a life that somebody has died for? [She pulls her chair to a more confidential angle.] Did it ever strike you as funny that woman’s honor is only about one thing, and that man’s honor is about everything but that thing? [After waiting for the answer which does not come.] Now woman’s honor means woman’s virtue. But this lady for whom you propose to die has no virtue.

Why of course. A life that someone has died for is basically a ruined life. How can you see it as anything else—a life that someone has died for? [She pulls her chair to a more confidential angle.] Did it ever seem funny to you that a woman's honor is only about one thing, while a man's honor is about everything except that one thing? [After waiting for the answer which does not come.] Now, a woman's honor means her virtue. But this woman you're planning to die for has no virtue.

Prisoner

Inmate

[Springing up.] Please be careful what you say.

[Springing up.] Please be careful with your words.

Scornful One

I’m being very careful. I’m thinking it out just as carefully as I can. The night of October 25, or at some time previous to that, she lost her virtue, and you propose to die to keep us from knowing about this loss. Now, it has happened, hasn’t it? On the night of October 25, from twelve o’clock midnight till eight next morning continuously she lost her virtue. You aren’t dying to keep her virtuous. I fancy few lives have been laid upon that altar. But[135] you’re dying to keep us from knowing she is what she is. Dear me, it seems rather sad.

I’m being really careful. I’m considering everything as thoroughly as I can. On the night of October 25, or maybe even before that, she lost her innocence, and you plan to die to prevent us from knowing about this loss. Now, it has happened, hasn’t it? On the night of October 25, from midnight until eight the next morning, she lost her innocence continuously. You aren’t dying to keep her innocent. I doubt many lives have been sacrificed for that cause. But[135] you’re dying to keep us from knowing she is who she is. Oh, it seems quite tragic.

Silly One

[Controlling her tears.] It is noble beyond words.

[Holding back her tears.] It is truly admirable.

Scornful One

There’s where you’re going to get your approbation.

That’s where you’re going to get your approval.

[The Motherly One now returns from her telephoning. She looks at the Silly Woman, then at the Scornful One—these two stand looking one another up and down.

The Motherly Figure is back from her phone call. She glances at the Silly Woman, then at the Disdainful Person—these two are sizing each other up.

Scornful One

Judgmental Person

[In her amused manner.] Can it be that we are two souls with but a single thought?

[In her amused manner.] Could it be that we are two souls with just one shared thought?

Motherly One

Mom

[In her mothering voice.] Perhaps we are two hearts that beat as one.

[In her mothering voice.] Maybe we are two hearts that beat as one.

[They stand there a moment not knowing what to do; then, still uncertainly, they sit down, stealing glances at one another. Finally the Scornful One smiles.

[They pause for a moment, unsure of what to do; then, still hesitant, they sit down, stealing glances at each other. Finally, the Scornful Person smiles.]

Scornful One

Hateful One

We might draw lots.

We might draw straws.

Silly One

Love conquereth all things.

Love conquers all.

[136]

Scornful One

Disdainful One

Even the female brain.

Even women's brains.

Motherly One

Nurturing One

I wonder why you others came.

I’m curious why the rest of you showed up.

Scornful One

Why did you come?

Why did you show up?

Motherly One

Mom

Oh, I have children of my own. I thought, he’s just a nice boy, and probably she’s just some nice girl afraid of her mother. And I thought—well, now what an awful pity to let him die, or even spend a lot of time in prison. I said to myself, it would be just like a lot of men to fuss around about a woman’s honor and really let it hurt somebody. So I decided—well, I’ll go. What harm can it do me? [Resumes her knitting.] You see, I’m in the habit of trying to save lives. I do nursing—practical nursing—and I didn’t happen to be on a case just now, so I thought—well, I’ll just take this case. Some of the folks I nurse for may be shocked—but good sensible nurses aren’t so easy to get. Of course my children may be upset about it—but they’re awful nice children, and when they’re a little older probably they’ll be pleased to think their mother didn’t want a nice boy to die. [Drops her knitting.] I wonder if she will come.

Oh, I have kids of my own. I thought, he’s just a nice kid, and she’s probably just some nice girl scared of her mom. And I thought—well, what a shame to let him die or even spend a long time in prison. I told myself it would be just like a lot of guys to get all worked up about a woman’s honor and actually let it hurt someone. So I decided—well, I’ll go. What harm can it do me? [Resumes her knitting.] You see, I’m used to trying to save lives. I do nursing—practical nursing—and I wasn’t on a case right now, so I thought—well, I’ll just take this case. Some of the people I care for might be shocked—but good, sensible nurses aren’t so easy to find. Of course, my kids might be upset about it—but they’re really great kids, and when they’re a little older they’ll probably be glad to think their mom didn’t want a nice kid to die. [Drops her knitting.] I wonder if she will come.

[Looks at the other two with new interest.

[Looks at the other two with fresh curiosity.]

Scornful One

I wonder.

[137]

Silly One

“She” is here.

“She’s here.”

Scornful One

Oh, it’s not you. You thought it was the lawyer you were with. Anyway, people who do things don’t make so much fuss about them.

Oh, it’s not you. You thought it was the lawyer you were with. Anyway, people who take action don’t make such a big deal about it.

Motherly One

Mom

[Whose interest has not been diverted.] I think she will have to come.

[Whose interest hasn't been redirected.] I believe she will have to come.

[The door of the room into which the Shielded One was shown opens quietly and without the others being aware of it the Shielded One is standing in the doorway, bringing with her that sense of the ordered protected life out of which she has stepped.

The door to the room where the Shielded One was led opens quietly and without anyone else noticing, the The Shielded One is standing in the doorway, carrying with her the feeling of the secure, controlled life she has just left.

Scornful One

I’m sure I don’t see how she could ever think of staying away. I hate a coward.

I really don’t understand how she could ever consider staying away. I can’t stand a coward.

Motherly One

Mom

Some women think a great deal about their honor. I think usually it’s women who aren’t very well—or who haven’t much else to take up their time.

Some women think a lot about their honor. I think it's usually women who aren't very well off—or who don't have much else to occupy their time.

[138]

[Impulsively the Shielded One steps forward as if to speak. Hearing her, they turn, and in their interest rise and stand looking at her.

[Without thinking, the Protected One steps forward as if she wants to speak. Hearing her, they turn, and out of curiosity they rise and stand looking at her.

Motherly One

Mom

Oh—you’ve come?

Oh, you’re here?

[The Prisoner, who to get away from the women gives the impression of being crowded into a corner, also turns and rises.

[The Inmate, who tries to escape the women and looks like he's being pushed into a corner, also turns and stands up.]

Prisoner

Inmate

[To Shielded One, rather crossly.] Please go away!

[To Shielded One, rather crossly.] Please leave me alone!

Scornful One

Hateful One

O-h.

Oh.

Prisoner

Inmate

Can’t you see there is no need for your staying?

Can’t you see that you don’t need to stay?

Shielded One

Protected One

[Quietly.] There is need of it.

[Quietly.] It's necessary.

[She sits down, the other women still surveying her.

[She sits down, while the other women continue to watch her.

Motherly One

It’s true we aren’t all needed. Who will be best—? [To Scornful One.] Tell me, why are you here?

It’s true we aren’t all necessary. Who will be the best—? [To Scornful Person.] Tell me, why are you here?

Scornful One

Sassy One

Well, you see for myself I haven’t any honor to worry about, and haven’t had for some time. So I thought, if the sacrifice of a woman’s honor is going to save, a man’s life, let me, who have none, nobly sacrifice mine.

Well, you see, I don’t have any honor to worry about, and I haven’t for a while. So I thought, if sacrificing a woman's honor will save a man's life, then let me, who has none, nobly sacrifice mine.

Motherly One

Mom

What do you mean, you haven’t had any honor for some time?

What do you mean, you haven't had any honor in a while?

[139]

Scornful One

Oh, I haven’t had my honor around with me since I was seventeen.

Oh, I haven’t had my honor with me since I was seventeen.

Motherly One

Mom

[Kindly.] Do you miss it?

Scornful One

Well—yes; sometimes when I’m tired I might like to slump back into it. You see honor camouflages so many things—stupidity, selfishness—greed, lust, avarice, gluttony. So without it you’re almost forced to be a decent sort—and that’s sometimes wearing. [In another voice.] But I’ll tell you why I’m really here! When men begin to sob around about woman’s honor they get my goat. That lawyer—he thought he was going to get away with it. Why, woman’s honor would have died out long ago if it hadn’t been for men’s talk about it.

Well—yes; sometimes when I’m tired I might like to just collapse into it. You see, honor hides so many things—stupidity, selfishness, greed, lust, avarice, gluttony. So without it, you’re almost forced to be a decent person—and that can be exhausting. [In another voice.] But I’ll tell you why I’m really here! When men start crying about a woman’s honor, it really gets to me. That lawyer—he thought he could get away with it. Honestly, a woman’s honor would have disappeared a long time ago if it weren’t for the way men talk about it.

Motherly One

Mom

I suppose it really has to be kept up, as long as it gives men such noble feelings.

I guess it really needs to be maintained, as long as it inspires such noble feelings in people.

Scornful One

Hateful One

That man—the one when I was seventeen—he’s that sort. He would be of course. Why, this instant his eyes would become “pools of feeling” if any one were to talk about saving a woman’s honor. [Under her breath.] Gee!

That guy—the one from when I was seventeen—he’s that type. Of course, he would be. Right now, his eyes would turn into “pools of feeling” if someone started talking about protecting a woman’s honor. [Under her breath.] Wow!

Motherly One

Mom

[With a diffident glance at the Shielded One.][140] If she is here, she must be feeling quite upset. If she cares enough about her honor to have held back this long—it can’t be easy to let it go.

[With a shy glance at the Protected One.][140] If she is here, she must be feeling pretty upset. If she cares enough about her honor to have held back this long—it can’t be easy to let it go.

Scornful One

She’ll be better off without it.

She'll be better off without it.

Motherly One

Mom

I don’t know. You see, she’s had it quite a while. She’s used to it. I was thinking—

I don’t know. You see, she’s had it for a long time. She’s used to it. I was thinking—

[The door opens and a brisk young woman dressed in cheap, up-to-the-minute clothes darts in. All turn and look at her, continue to stare. Something in this scrutiny becomes disconcerting.

[The door swings open and a lively young woman in trendy, budget-friendly clothes rushes in. Everyone turns to look at her and keeps staring. There’s something unsettling about this intense gaze.]

Mercenary One

While he was busy with the other women—I just slipped by. Is this—?

While he was occupied with the other women—I just slipped away. Is this—?

[Sees the young man, now huddled in terror.

[Sees the young man, now curled up in fear.

Scornful One

Sit down and wait your turn.

Sit down and wait for your turn.

Mercenary One

Are all of you ahead of me?

Are you all ahead of me?

Scornful One

Disdainful One

Your number seems to be five.

Your number looks like it's five.

[141]

[Number five sits down; a pause in which they continue to look at her in this unusual way—she finally rather indignantly settles her coat, her hat, assuring herself nothing is the matter with her.

[Number five sits down; there's a pause as they keep looking at her in this strange way—she eventually, somewhat annoyed, adjusts her coat and hat, making sure that nothing is wrong with her.]

Motherly One

Mom

You look young for this.

Mercenary One

Merc One

Well, if you’ll excuse my saying so, the same objection can’t be made to some of you.

Well, if you don’t mind me saying, the same criticism can’t be directed at some of you.

Scornful One

Hateful One

What are you here for?

What’s your purpose here?

Mercenary One

Oh, I guess I’m here for about the same reason all of you are here.

Oh, I guess I’m here for pretty much the same reason you all are.

Motherly One

Mom

But we are here for different reasons.

But we’re here for different reasons.

Mercenary One

Say, what are you tryin’ to put over on me? Suppose I think you’re here for your health? Or out of kindness? Or to show your great beauty? Hard-ly. Anybody not feeble-minded could dope out why you’re sitting here like owls.

Say, what are you trying to pull on me? Do you think I believe you're here for your health? Or out of kindness? Or to show off your beauty? Hardly. Anyone who's not clueless could figure out why you're sitting here like this.

Scornful One

Skeptical One

Well—why?

Well—why not?

Mercenary One

Oh, not for money, of course.

Oh, not for __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, of course.

[142]

[She has horrified them all.

She has shocked them all.

Motherly One

Mom

I’m sorry you said that.

I'm sorry you said that.

Silly One

Goofball

How sordid! How desecrating!

How shameful! How disrespectful!

Mercenary One

Say—I don’t like the atmosphere of this place.

Say—I don’t like the vibe of this place.

Scornful One

We don’t like it as well as we did.

We don't like it as much as we used to.

Mercenary One

A business proposition is a business proposition. What a man needs and can pay for—

A business proposal is a business proposal. What a man needs and can pay for—

Silly One

Funny One

[Rising and wringing her hands.] I really must ask you—Love is so beautiful!

[Rising and wringing her hands.] I really need to ask you—Love is so incredible!

Mercenary One

Well, suppose it is? What’s that got to do with it?

Well, so what if it is? What does that have to do with anything?

Motherly One

Mother Figure

You seem hard for one so young.

You seem tough for someone so young.

Mercenary One

Merc One

I may be hard, but I’m not a nut.

I might be tough, but I'm not crazy.

Scornful One

Woman’s honor doesn’t play much part in your young life, does it? Or woman’s self-respect, either.

Woman's honor doesn't really matter in your young life, does it? Or woman's self-respect, for that matter.

[143]

Mercenary One

[Rising.] Say, you think you can sit there and insult me? I don’t know what you are, but I’ll have you know I’m an honest working girl! I heard they were going to take on another stenographer down here, but I don’t like the atmosphere of this place.

[Rising.] Hey, you really think you can just sit there and insult me? I don’t know who you think you are, but I want you to know that I’m a hard-working girl! I heard they’re bringing in another stenographer down here, but I’m not a fan of the vibe in this place.

[She leaves.

She’s leaving.

Silly One

[Settling herself with relief.] It was a misunderstanding. Ah, life is paved with misunderstanding.

[Settling in with relief.] It was a misunderstanding. Ah, life is full of misunderstandings.

Motherly One

Mom

It will be said we did this for money.

Scornful One

Judgmental Person

Oh, a great deal will be said. If you care about what’s said you’d better follow the honest working girl out that door.

Oh, a lot will be said. If you care about what’s said, you’d better follow the honest working girl out that door.

Motherly One

Mom

What’s said makes an awful difference in some people’s lives.

What people say can make a huge difference in some people's lives.

[Her eyes turn toward the Shielded One.

[Her eyes shift towards the Protected One.

Scornful One

They don’t know how much difference until they’ve heard it said.

They don’t realize the difference until they’ve heard someone say it.

[She too looks at the Shielded One.

[She also looks at the Protected Individual.

Motherly One

Mom

You get made into one thing and then it’s not easy[144] to be another. And as the honest working girl hinted, some of us aren’t as young as—we’d like to be.

You get turned into one thing, and then it's not easy[144] to become something else. And as the straightforward working girl suggested, some of us aren't as young as we'd like to be.

Scornful One

Age shouldn’t discourage one. It’s never too late to mend.

Age shouldn’t hold you back. It’s never too late to make things right.

[The door swings, the women look expectantly around; the unfortunate young man, whose face has been buried in his hands, looks round in terror. They wait a moment but no one comes in.

[The door swings open, and the women glance around expectantly; the unfortunate young man, whose face has been buried in his hands, looks up in fear. They wait for a moment, but no one enters.]

Motherly One

Mom

If “she” is here, and really minds losing her honor—well, she could just go home. [Silly One rises, simpers, sits down again.] We can’t all lose our honor. It might do the young man more harm than good. It’s different with you—[To Scornful One] you had an early start. And then you’ve got character. You don’t need honor to lean on.

If "she" is here and truly cares about losing her dignity—well, she could just go home. [Silly Person gets up, acts coy, then sits down again.] Not everyone can afford to lose their dignity. It could hurt the young man more than help him. It’s not the same for you—[To Scornful Person] you got a head start. Plus, you have strength of character. You don’t need dignity to support you.

Shielded One

[Breaking her silence with simple intensity.] What is woman’s honor?

[Breaking her silence with simple intensity.] What is a woman's honor?

Scornful One

A thing men talk about.

A topic men discuss.

Motherly One

Mom

A safe corner.

A secure spot.

Silly One

A star to guide them!

A guiding star!

[145]

Shielded One

Protected One

[Very earnestly.] Guide them where?

[Very earnestly.] Where to guide them?

Scornful One

Yes, where? Many a woman who’s guided hasn’t guided anywhere.

Yes, where? Many women who have been guided haven't really gotten anywhere.

Shielded One

Protected One

[Passionately.] Aren’t we something more than things to be noble about?

[Passionately.] Aren’t we more than just things to be admired?

Scornful One

Of course what we’ve really been is kind. We have not deprived them of the pleasures of being noble. If we do it now, it will leave them in a bleak world.

Of course what we’ve really been is kind. We have not taken away their enjoyment of being noble. If we do it now, it will leave them in a grim world.

Shielded One

Protected One

[Troubled but determined.] Can’t we put something in its place, so they won’t be too desolate and yet we won’t be so—

[Troubled but determined.] Can’t we replace it with something, so they won’t feel too hopeless and we won’t be so—

Scornful One

Hateful One

Bored.

Uninterested.

Motherly One

Mom

If we could only get them noble about something else. I should really hate to take it from them entirely. It’s like giving up smoking or drinking. You have to do it gradually, and there should be something to put in its place.

If only we could inspire them to be passionate about something else. I wouldn’t want to take it away from them completely. It's like quitting smoking or drinking. You need to do it little by little, and there has to be something to fill the void.

Scornful One

If we could only think up a new vice for them.

If only we could come up with a new vice for them.

[146]

Motherly One

Mom

They have all those.

They have all of them.

Shielded One

Protected One

Oh, I hope you women can work out some way to free us from men’s noble feelings about it! I speak for all the women of my—[Hesitates] under-world, all those others smothered under men’s lofty sentiments toward them! I wish I could paint for you the horrors of the shielded life. [Says “shielded” as if it were “shameful.”] I know you would feel something must be done to save us. After all [Growing a little wild] are we not your sisters? Our honor has been saved so many times. We are tired. And so when I read in the paper this morning that woman’s honor was being saved again—

Oh, I really hope you women can figure out a way to free us from men’s so-called noble feelings about this! I’m speaking for all the women of my—[Hesitates] underground, all those others who are suffocated by men’s high-minded sentiments toward us! I wish I could show you the horrors of a sheltered life. [Says “sheltered” as if it were “shameful.”] I know you would feel that something needs to be done to save us. After all, [Growing a little wild] aren’t we your sisters? Our honor has been “saved” so many times already. We’re exhausted. So when I read in the paper this morning that a woman’s honor was being “saved” again—

Scornful One

[Excitedly going to her.] Read in the paper? Then you’re not—the one?

[Excitedly going to her.] Did you read it in the paper? Then you’re not—the one?

Shielded One

Protected One

Not that one, but—

[147]

[Slowly the door opens and a woman comes in—comes with a strange quiet. She droops, she has a queer passivity—she is unaccountably forceful. Gives a sense of one who has been cheated and is going to be cheated no more. She is scarcely aware of the other women. Her eyes, dead, or rather dogged with life, go to the unfortunate young man. He has turned to look at her; he is not able to look away.

Slowly, the door opens and a woman steps in—entering with an unusual tranquility. She slumps a bit, and there's an odd sense of passivity about her—yet she's inexplicably strong. She gives off a feeling of someone who's been wronged and won't allow it to happen again. She's barely aware of the other women in the room. Her eyes, lifeless or perhaps doggedly clinging to life, fix on the unfortunate young man. He has turned to look at her; he can't seem to look away.

Scornful One

[Nervously.] Are you a stenographer?

[Nervously.] Are you a court reporter?

Cheated One

Betrayed One

[Not interested in this.] No.

No.

[In her dogged way she advances upon the Prisoner. He is afraid. She sits down close to him, as if to cut off escape.

[In her determined way, she approaches the Inmate. He feels scared. She sits down next to him, as if to block any chance of escape.]

Motherly One

Mom

[Low.] I wonder if she is here.

[Low.] I wonder if she’s here.

Scornful One

I wonder.

I’m curious.

Shielded One

Protected One

[With an effort bringing herself and the others back to her.] But don’t turn against me because I’m not this particular woman. What a detail that is. I am—those victims of men’s dreadful—[Turns away her face] need for nobility. I’d rather die than go back to it! Help me to lead another life!

[With an effort pulling herself and the others back to her.] But don’t turn against me just because I’m not this specific woman. What a detail that is. I am—those victims of men’s awful—[Turns away her face] need for nobility. I’d rather die than return to it! Help me to live a different life!

Scornful One

Judgmental Person

[Fervently.] We must lift her up.

[Fervently.] We have to support her.

Motherly One

Mom

We will find a place for her in the great good world outside the shielded life.

We will find a place for her in the wonderful world outside the protected life.

Shielded One

Protected One

Then you others go, and I will stay.

Then you all go, and I will stay.

[148]

[Motherly One and Scornful One rise and move to the door.

[Mom and Hateful One get up and head to the door.]

Silly One

I will give my life for yours, my sister!

I would give my life for yours, my sister!

Scornful One

Sneering One

No you won’t. I’ll have nothing to do with saving you. You deserve nothing better than woman’s honor. Come with us.

No, you won’t. I want nothing to do with saving you. You deserve nothing more than a woman's honor. Come with us.

[But at the door these three stand looking back at the Cheated One.

[But at the door these three stand looking back at the Cheater.]

Scornful One

[Moving down to her.] Aren’t you coming with us?

Cheated One

[Without raising her eyes.] No.

[Without looking up.] No.

Scornful One

Why not?

Cheated One

Betrayed One

I shall stay.

I'm staying.

Motherly One

Mom

Perhaps she is here. And if “she” is here—then we have not the right to leave her.

Perhaps she is here. And if “she” is here—then we don't have the right to leave her.

[Indicating the Shielded One.

Scornful One

Hater

[To Cheated One.] Tell us: are you the woman Gordon Wallace was with on the night of October 25?

[To Cheater.] Tell us: were you the woman Gordon Wallace was with on the night of October 25?

[149]

Cheated One

Cheater

Yes.

Motherly One

Mom

Of course we’ve all said that.

Of course, we've all said that.

Scornful One

But she says it in a different way.

But she says it differently.

Motherly One

Mom

[To Shielded One.] I am afraid that you will have to leave with us. It seems she has the right.

[To Protected One.] I'm sorry, but you have to come with us. It looks like she has the authority to make that call.

[These four move to the door.

[These four head to the door.

Shielded One

Protected One

[Thinking of it just in time.] But do you think she has the right just because she is the one?

[Thinking of it just in time.] But do you think she has the right just because she's the one?

[To consider this, they go back and sit down.

[To think about this, they return and take a seat.]

Silly One

Leave me!

Leave me alone!

Scornful One

Disdainful One

[Wickedly inspired.] Suppose we do! You know, I like the idea. Why—the more I think about it—the better I like it. [To the other women.] Yes, come! [To the young man.] This is the lady you were going to die for!

[Wickedly inspired.] How about we do it! You know, I really like this idea. The more I think about it, the more I love it. [To the other women.] Yes, come on! [To the young man.] This is the woman you were ready to give your life for!

Shielded One

Protected One

[Distressed.] But, no! What can it do for her? And how, through her, can we reach my poor sisters smothered under woman’s honor? I insist upon it! I am the one!

[Distressed.] But, no! What can it do for her? And how, through her, can we reach my poor sisters suffocated by the expectations of being a woman? I insist on it! I am the one!

[150]

Cheated One

Betrayed One

[Suddenly turning upon her.] You are not the one!

[Suddenly turning upon her.] You’re not the one!

Motherly One

Mom

Now I think, to avoid feeling between you two, I had better stay. I’m a nurse, and a mother, and I keep coming back to the idea these things are needed.

Now I think, to avoid feeling stuck between you two, I’d better stay. I’m a nurse and a mother, and I keep coming back to the idea that these things are necessary.

Scornful One

No, you have too many other things to do. I am the one to remain. I am—peculiarly fitted for it.

No, you have too many other things to handle. I'm the one who should stay. I'm—rather well-suited for it.

Shielded One

Protected One

You are not fitted for it at all. There is no one less fitted for it than you.

You aren't suited for it at all. There's no one less suited for it than you.

Scornful One

How do you make that out?

How do you figure that out?

Shielded One

Protected One

You don’t need it. Woman’s honor never hurt you.

You don’t need it. A woman’s honor has never harmed you.

Scornful One

[Reluctantly accepting this. To Prisoner.] Are you acquainted with this woman?

[Reluctantly accepting this. To Inmate.] Do you know this woman?

[Indicates Cheated One.

Prisoner

No.

Scornful One

Then why are you so afraid of her?

Then why are you so scared of her?

[151]

Prisoner

Inmate

I’m not—

[But he is forced to meet the smoldering eye of the Cheated One; he cannot look away.

[But he is compelled to face the intense gaze of the Cheater; he can't look away.

Shielded One

Protected One

[Almost in tears.] But you were going to help me lead a better life. And now you stand here quibbling over a petty question of fact, when the whole great question of escape from woman’s honor is at stake! Oh, is it true that women will not help one another? That they are hard and self-seeking?

[Almost in tears.] But you were supposed to help me live a better life. And now you’re here arguing over a trivial detail, while the important issue of freeing ourselves from a woman’s honor is at stake! Is it really true that women won’t support each other? That they are ruthless and self-centered?

[She breaks down; Motherly One goes to comfort her.

[She breaks down; Mother Figure goes to comfort her.

Silly One

My heart is full—

Scornful One

Your heart is full of a simpering parrot!

Your heart is full of a whiny parrot!

[The Lawyer returns.

The Lawyer returns.

Lawyer

Attorney

Ladies—ladies—quarreling? I’m sorry to find you in this mood. I had hoped while you were here together you might—arrive at some understanding.

Ladies—ladies—arguing? I’m sorry to see you in this mood. I had hoped that while you were here together, you might reach some understanding.

Scornful One

Disdainful One

[To Silly One.] I wish you’d go home. We might arrive at something if we didn’t have you on our backs.

[To Silly One.] I wish you would go home. We might get somewhere if we didn't have you dragging us down.

[152]

Lawyer

Attorney

Now why must women always dislike each other?

Now why do women always seem to dislike each other?

Motherly One

Mom

[In her motherly way.] If I were you I’d try not to talk much.

[In her caring way.] If I were you, I’d try not to say too much.

Lawyer

Attorney

Why not?

Scornful One

Disdainful One

She has a kind heart. Now I—I’d let you talk.

She has a kind heart. Now I—I’d let you speak.

Lawyer

Attorney

Sometimes it seems quite as well not to try to follow women.

Sometimes it seems better not to try to understand women.

Scornful One

Judgmental Person

Sometimes even better.

Lawyer

Attorney

Well now, Ladies, let us drop personal dissentions for the moment. This unfortunate young man, Mr. Wallace, is much moved by your generosity. He had made up his mind to die for woman’s honor. Now it seems he is not to do so—a change of plan to which he has not yet adjusted himself. His perturbation makes him unequal to selecting the lady who was with him on the night of October 25. [Door swings, Prisoner looks around nervously.] So—I would like to get your feeling. Since it seems unnecessary for all of you to have been with the young man on the night of October 25—

Well now, ladies, let’s put aside any personal disagreements for a moment. This unfortunate young man, Mr. Wallace, is really touched by your kindness. He had resolved to sacrifice himself for a woman’s honor. Now it looks like that’s not going to happen—a change of plans he hasn’t fully come to terms with. His distress makes it hard for him to identify the woman who was with him on the night of October 25. [Door swings, Inmate looks around nervously.] So—I’d like to hear your thoughts. Since it seems unnecessary for all of you to have been with the young man on the night of October 25—

[153]

[Again door swings.

Again, the door swings.

Prisoner

Inmate

[In a rasped voice.] Could that door be closed? It makes me—nervous.

[In a hoarse voice.] Can you close that door? It makes me—anxious.

[Motherly Woman closes the door.

[Motherly Woman shuts the door.

Lawyer

Attorney

Now, doubtless you will agree with me that we should always eliminate waste. If a woman’s honor is to be sacrificed, may I without indelicacy inquire who would sacrifice least?

Now, you probably agree with me that we should always eliminate waste. If a woman’s honor is at stake, can I ask without being rude who would sacrifice the least?

Shielded One

Protected One

[Firmly.] I would.

I definitely would.

Lawyer

Attorney

[Weakly.] You would?

Cheated One

[In a voice dull as destiny.] The rest of you can talk as long as you like. I shall stay.

[In a voice as dull as fate.] You all can talk as much as you want. I will stay.

[She rises and takes firm hold of the unfortunate young man’s chair.

She stands up and firmly grips the chair of the unfortunate young man.

Lawyer

Attorney

Well, there seems something final about that.

Well, that seems pretty final.

Motherly One

Mom

Tell us, are you the one?

Cheated One

I am the one to stay.

I’m the one who will stick around.

[154]

Scornful One

Disdainful One

Now, don’t cheat. Tell us, are you—

Cheated One

Betrayed One

[Passion flaming through sullenness.] Cheat? Cheat? You say to me, don’t cheat? I don’t cheat. I’ve been cheated. Cheated out of my chance to have a man I wanted by a man who would have what he wanted. Then he saved my woman’s honor. Married me and cheated me out of my life. I’m just something to be cheated. That’s the way I think of myself. Until this morning. Until I read about Gordon Wallace. Then I saw a way to get away from myself. It’s the first thing I ever wanted to do that I’ve done. You’ll not cheat me out of this. Don’t you try!

[Passion burning through gloom.] Cheat? Cheat? You tell me not to cheat? I don’t cheat. I’ve been cheated. Cheated out of my chance to be with the man I wanted because of a guy who would take what he wants. Then he preserved my woman’s honor. Married me and robbed me of my life. I’m just someone to be taken advantage of. That’s how I see myself. Until this morning. Until I read about Gordon Wallace. Then I found a way to escape from myself. It’s the first thing I’ve ever wanted to do that I actually did. You won’t take this from me. Don’t even think about it!

Shielded One

Protected One

But she is thinking of it in just a personal way.

But she is thinking about it in a purely personal way.

Cheated One

That’s why I stay.

That's why I'm here.

Shielded One

Protected One

But think of my poor sisters! All those unfortunate women—

Cheated One

Cheater

The only unfortunate woman I’ll think about is myself.

The only unfortunate woman I'll think about is myself.

Shielded One

Protected One

[Wildly.] You hear her? The only unfortunate woman she’ll think about—

[Wildly.] Do you hear her? The only unlucky woman she’ll think about—

[155]

Motherly One

Mom

[Approaching Cheated One.] Now we really must ask you—

[Approaching Cheater.] Now we really have to ask you—

Silly One

Love is so beautiful!

Love is beautiful!

Scornful One

You can’t cheat just because you’ve been cheated.

You can't stoop to cheating just because you've been wronged.

Cheated One

[Inflamed—incoherent.] You say cheat to me again? You say cheat to—

[Inflamed—incoherent.] You’re calling me a cheat again? You’re saying cheat to—

Lawyer

Attorney

[Stepping in to pacify.] Ladies—ladies. Surely there must be a way out of the difficulty. Perhaps we can work out some way to—

[Stepping in to pacify.] Ladies—ladies. There has to be a way to resolve this issue. Maybe we can find a solution to—

Scornful One

To save both of them through Gordon Wallace!

[All women except Cheated One draw together excitedly. The Prisoner, who has rapidly been approaching the breaking point makes a move as if he must try to escape. The Cheated One is watching the other women.

[All the women except Cheater gather excitedly. The Inmate, who is close to losing control, makes a move as if he needs to try to escape. The Cheated Person keeps an eye on the other women.]

Scornful One

Here! Yes! On the night of October 25—

[156]

[Their heads together in low-voiced conference with Lawyer. Suddenly the Prisoner slips around the Cheated One—trying now not to be cheated of what is being said—and makes for the door. It opens in his face, and the doorway is blocked by a large and determined woman. Prisoner staggers back to Lawyer’s arms.

[Their heads huddled together, speaking softly with Attorney. Suddenly, the Inmate tries to sneak around the Cheater, hoping not to miss what’s being said, and heads for the door. It swings open right into his face, revealing a large and determined woman blocking the way. The Inmate staggers back into the arms of Attorney.]

Prisoner

Inmate

Oh, hell. I’ll plead guilty.

Oh, hell. I’ll admit it.

(Curtain)

Curtain

[157]

BERNICE
A PLAY IN THREE ACTS

First Performed by the Provincetown Players,
New York,
March 21, 1919.

First performed by the Provincetown Players,
New York,
March 21, 1919.

ORIGINAL CAST

Mr. Allen, Bernice’s Father	OK Liveright
Abbie	Susan Glaspell
Craig Norris, Bernice’s Husband	James K. Light
Laura (Ms. Kirby), Craig’s Sister	Blanche Hays
Margaret Pierce, Bernice’s Friend	Ida Rauh

[159]

BERNICE

ACT ONE

Scene: The living-room of Bernice’s house in the country. You feel yourself in the house of a woman you would like to know, a woman of sure and beautiful instincts, who lives simply. At the spectator’s right, stairs go up from the living room; back of this—right, rear, a door; to the front of the stairs is a narrowed passage as of a hall leading to the kitchen. On the other side of the room, is a tea-table before the fireplace, and before it is a low rounded chair, as if awaiting the one who will come to serve tea. Toward the rear of this left wall is a door. This door is closed. From the back of the room French windows lead directly out of doors. On each side of this door is a window thus opening almost the entire wall to the October woods. There are comfortable seats under the windows, books about. It is late afternoon and the sun glows through the flaming leaves. As the curtain is drawn the Father is seen sitting at a long table at the side of the stairway, playing solitaire. At the back of the cards, open books are propped against the wall, and papers on which he has been writing. Abbie, a middle-aged servant, is attending to the open fire.

Scene: The living room of Bernice’s house in the countryside. You feel like you’re in the home of a woman you want to know, a woman with strong and beautiful instincts who lives simply. To the spectator’s right, stairs lead up from the living room; behind this—right, at the back, there’s a door; in front of the stairs, there’s a narrow passage leading to the kitchen. On the opposite side of the room, there’s a tea table in front of the fireplace, with a low rounded chair in front of it, as if waiting for someone to come and serve tea. Toward the back of the left wall, there’s a closed door. At the back of the room, French windows open directly to the outdoors. On either side of this door is a window, almost opening the entire wall to the October woods. There are comfortable seats beneath the windows, and books scattered around. It’s late afternoon, and the sun shines through the vibrant leaves. As the curtain is drawn, the Dad is seen sitting at a long table by the stairs, playing solitaire. The backs of the cards are propped against the wall with open books, and there are papers he’s been writing on. Abbie, a middle-aged servant, is tending to the open fire.

Father

Dad

[Holding up a card he is about to place.] Ten minutes since the train whistled. They’ll be here in five minutes now.

[Holding up a card he is about to place.] Ten minutes since the train whistled. They’ll be here in five minutes.

Abbie

Yes, sir.

Sure thing.

[160]

Father

Dad

It will be hard for Craig to come in this house, Abbie.

It will be tough for Craig to come into this house, Abbie.

Abbie

Oh, yes.

Absolutely.

Father

Dad

Bernice made this house. [Looking around.] Everything is Bernice. [A pause.] Change something, Abbie! [With growing excitement.] Put something in a different place. [He takes a pillow from the seat under the window, holds it irresolutely a moment, puts it on the floor at the side of the fireplace. On the other side he moves a high vase from the window. Then helplessly.] Well, I don’t know. You can’t get Bernice out of this room. The tea-table! Come, Abbie, quick! We will take this out of the room. [Together, Abbie reluctant, they move it to the passage-way leading out from the living-room. The Father comes back and sees the chair, now without its table. He goes as if to move it, but cannot do this; looks old and broken as he faces the closed door.] I wish they’d left Bernice upstairs, Abbie, in her own room. Now there—so near the living-room—right off the living-room. [Hastily goes back to his cards, but in an instant he brushes them together and pulls the open book toward him, and papers; but he only rests his hand on the book.] There’ll be only Craig and his sister on this train, Abbie.

Bernice created this house. [Looking around.] Everything here represents Bernice. [A pause.] Change something, Abbie! [With growing excitement.] Move something to a different spot. [He takes a pillow from the seat under the window, holds it uncertainly for a moment, then puts it on the floor by the fireplace. He moves a tall vase from the window to the other side. Then helplessly.] Well, I don’t know. You can’t remove Bernice from this room. The tea-table! Come on, Abbie, quick! Let’s take this out of the room. [Together, Abigail hesitantly, they carry it to the hallway leading out from the living room. The Dad returns and notices the chair, now without its table. He moves as if to adjust it, but can't; he looks old and defeated as he faces the closed door.] I wish they’d left Bernice upstairs, Abbie, in her own room. Now there—so close to the living room—right off the living room. [He hurriedly goes back to his cards, but in a moment he gathers them together and pulls the open book and papers toward him; but he only rests his hand on the book.] There will only be Craig and his sister on this train, Abbie.

Abbie

That’s all I know of.

That's all I know.

[161]

Father

Dad

But Margaret Pierce will be here soon. As soon as she can get here, Margaret will come. Within an hour, probably.

But Margaret Pierce will be here soon. As soon as she can get here, Margaret will come. Probably within an hour.

Abbie

[Apprehensive.] You think so, sir?

Nervous. You think so, sir?

Father

Dad

I think so. That train from the West got to the Junction at three. I have a feeling Margaret won’t wait for the five o’clock train to get here. She’ll get a car. [Abbie goes to the door and looks out.] It would save a little time, and—she doesn’t know that Bernice—Yes, Margaret will get here the quickest way. She always came to Bernice when Bernice needed her.

I think so. That train from the West arrived at the Junction at three. I have a feeling Margaret won’t wait for the five o’clock train to arrive. She’ll get a car. [Abbie goes to the door and looks out.] It would save some time, and—she doesn’t know that Bernice—Yeah, Margaret will take the fastest way here. She always came to Bernice when Bernice needed her.

Abbie

She doesn’t need anyone now.

She doesn't need anyone right now.

Father

Dad

No. But yes—in a way, she does. She needs some one to be here to do what she can’t go on doing. Margaret will see that—when she knows. Margaret sees everything.

No. But yes—in a way, she does. She needs someone to be here to do what she can’t keep doing. Margaret will understand that—once she knows. Margaret notices everything.

Abbie

[Frightened now.] You think so, sir?

[Feeling scared now.] Do you really think so, sir?

Father

Dad

Oh, yes, she does. Bernice knew that. “Margaret sees things,” I’ve heard Bernice say. [Abbie turns from him.] Now Mrs. Kirby, Craig’s sister Laura,[162] she’s a sensible woman, she’ll be a help to you, Abbie, in—arranging things. But see things? No. How different people are. They’re all different, Abbie. I don’t think Bernice cared much for Laura—though she didn’t mind her. She’d just laugh about Laura—about her being so sure of everything. It was nice, Abbie, the way Bernice would just laugh about things. She had no malice.

Oh, yes, she does. Bernice knew that. “Margaret sees things,” I’ve heard Bernice say. [Abbie turns from him.] Now Mrs. Kirby, Craig’s sister Laura,[162] she’s a sensible woman, she’ll help you, Abbie, in—organizing things. But see things? No. How different people are. They’re all different, Abbie. I don’t think Bernice cared much for Laura—though she didn’t mind her. She’d just laugh about Laura—about her being so sure of everything. It was nice, Abbie, the way Bernice would just laugh about things. She had no malice.

Abbie

[Strangely intense.] No. She didn’t have, did she?

Father

Dad

Oh, no, Abbie. Malice wasn’t in her. It was just that a good many things—well, the things that are important to most people weren’t so important to Bernice. It was another set of things were important. People called her detached. But—I don’t know. Maybe they’re detached, Abbie. Maybe it’s Laura Kirby, the sensible woman, who’s detached,—Bernice would have laughed at that—the practical person who’s detached, and Bernice.... You know what I mean, Abbie?

Oh, no, Abbie. Bernice didn’t mean any harm. It’s just that a lot of things—the things that matter to most people—didn’t really matter to her. She had her own priorities. People called her detached. But—I don’t know. Maybe they’re the ones who are detached, Abbie. Maybe it’s Laura Kirby, the sensible woman, who’s the detached one—Bernice would have found that funny—the practical person who’s detached, and Bernice... You know what I mean, Abbie?

Abbie

I think I do—knowing her.

Father

Dad

To you—did she seem detached?

Did she seem distant to you?

Abbie

[Tenderly thinking it out.] She was loving, and thoughtful, and gay. But always a little of what she is now—[Faces the closed door] off by herself.[163] [With that intensity the present moment does not account for.] You can’t expect to understand a person who is “off by herself.” Now can you?

[Tenderly thinking it out.] She was loving, thoughtful, and cheerful. But she always had a bit of what she is now—[Faces the closed door] withdrawn, alone.[163] [With that intensity the present moment does not account for.] You can’t expect to understand someone who is “off by herself.” Can you?

Father

Dad

I understood Bernice. Except, there were things—outside what I understood.

I got Bernice. Still, there were things—beyond what I understood.

Abbie

[Eagerly.] That’s it. And we should take what we had, shouldn’t we, and not try to reach into—to where we didn’t go.

Father

Dad

I suppose that’s true, Abbie. [Buries his face.] I wish my little girl hadn’t died. What am I going to do, Abbie? How can I stay here? And how can I go away? We should die in our proper order; I should have gone before my daughter. Anything else makes confusion. There’s not going to be anybody to laugh at me now, Abbie. I’ll miss the way Bernice laughed at me, a laugh that took me in and—yes, took me in. She laughed at my spending the whole time of the war studying Sanscrit. Well, why shouldn’t I? What can the old do about war? I had my vision of life. If that had been followed there’d have been no war. But in a world that won’t have visions—why not study Sanscrit while such a world is being made over—into another such world. [Listening.] You hear some one, Abbie?

I guess that’s true, Abbie. [Buries his face.] I wish my little girl hadn’t died. What am I going to do, Abbie? How can I stay here? And how can I leave? We should die in the right order; I should have gone before my daughter. Anything else just creates confusion. There’s no one left to laugh at me now, Abbie. I’ll miss the way Bernice laughed at me, a laugh that embraced me—and yes, embraced me. She laughed at how I spent the entire war studying Sanskrit. Well, why shouldn’t I? What can the old do about war? I had my vision of life. If that had been followed, there wouldn’t have been any war. But in a world that won’t accept visions—why not study Sanskrit while such a world is being transformed—into another just like this one. [Listening.] You hear someone, Abbie?

Abbie

[After listening.] It didn’t turn in.

[After listening.] It didn’t come in.

[164]

Father

Dad

And you, Abbie. [With wonder.] Why you were with us when Bernice was born.

And you, Abbie. [With wonder.] You were there with us when Bernice was born.

Abbie

Yes, I was—in the room the night she was born. The night she died I thought of the night she was born.

Yes, I was in the room the night she was born. The night she died, I thought about the night she was born.

Father

Dad

That was—how long ago, Abbie?

Abbie

Thirty-five years ago.

Father

Dad

Was Bernice thirty-five years old? She was, Abbie—my little girl? Well, life moves by—and we hardly know it’s moving. Why, Abbie, your whole life has been lived around Bernice. [Abbie nods.] It will be now as if things had—fallen apart. And it was the main thing in your life—doing things for her.

Was Bernice thirty-five years old? She was, Abbie—my little girl? Well, life moves on—and we barely notice it. You know, Abbie, your whole life has revolved around Bernice. [Abbie nods.] Now it feels like everything has—fallen apart. And it was the most important part of your life—doing things for her.

Abbie

[With excitement.] Yes, it was the main thing in my life—doing what she wanted. I couldn’t do anything else now, could I?

Father

Dad

[A little surprised at her agitation, but not thinking about it.] Why, no. Now some one is coming, Abbie. You hear them coming?

[A little surprised at her agitation, but not thinking about it.] No, not at all. Someone's approaching, Abbie. Do you hear them coming?

[165]

Abbie

I think so. [She goes to the door.] Yes.

I think so. [She heads to the door.] Yeah.

[Abbie opens the door and Laura and Craig come in. Craig holds back as if to enter this house is something he can scarcely make himself do; he does not look around the room.

[Abbie opens the door and Laura and Craig step inside. Craig hesitates as if coming into this house is something he can barely bring himself to do; he doesn’t glance around the room.]

Laura

[To the Father, taking his hand.] This is so hard for you, Mr. Allen. I cannot tell you—[Turning to Abbie] Abbie.

[To the Dad, taking his hand.] This is really tough for you, Mr. Allen. I can't express how—I—[Turning to Abbie] Abbie.

Father

Dad

[Going to Craig, who is still at the door.] Well, Craig. [The Father holds out his hand, Craig takes it.] Well, I don’t know what we’re going to do without her.

[Going to Craig, who is still at the door.] Well, Craig. [The Dad holds out his hand, Craig takes it.] Well, I really don’t know what we’re going to do without her.

Laura

[Coming to the rescue with the practical.] And where are you going to put us, Abbie?

Abbie

I have the rooms ready upstairs.

Craig

[As if he cannot do this.] Upstairs?

[As if he can't do this.] Upstairs?

Abbie

[In a low voice.] She is down here, sir.

[In a low voice.] She's down here, sir.

[166]

[She indicates the closed door. Then takes Laura’s bag and they start upstairs. Craig does not move.

[She points to the closed door. Then she grabs Laura's bag, and they head upstairs. Craig stays put.]

Laura

[On the stairway.] Aren’t you coming up, Craig, to get clean and rest a little?

[On the stairway.] Are you coming up, Craig, to get cleaned up and rest for a bit?

Craig

In a minute or two. [He sits down—on the edge of a chair near the door. The Father and husband sit there silent.] Bernice—hadn’t been sick long, had she?

In a minute or two. [He sits down—on the edge of a chair near the door. The Dad and husband sit there silent.] Bernice—she hadn't been sick for long, had she?

Father

Dad

No, it was very sudden. You know she had had trouble occasionally in the past year; Dr. Willis had said she might have to go to the hospital. At first this seemed like that—so Abbie and I weren’t really alarmed. Of course we sent for Willis, but he was in Boston. Young Stuart had the grip. So there was no doctor here—till afterwards.

No, it happened really suddenly. You know she had some problems now and then over the past year; Dr. Willis had mentioned she might need to go to the hospital. At first, it felt like that—so Abbie and I weren’t too worried. Of course, we called for Willis, but he was in Boston. Young Stuart had the flu. So there was no doctor here—until later.

Craig

And—how long was Bernice sick?

And—how long was Bernice unwell?

[He speaks with difficulty.

He has trouble speaking.

Father

Dad

She spoke of feeling badly on Tuesday. She was lying down most of that day. Wednesday—she didn’t get up at all Wednesday. And she died late Wednesday night. [Emotion breaking through.] Abbie and I were here all alone!

She talked about not feeling well on Tuesday. She spent most of that day lying down. On Wednesday—she didn't get up at all. And she passed away late Wednesday night. [Emotion breaking through.] Abbie and I were here all alone!

Craig

Did she say—Did she leave—Well, we can talk of that later.

Did she say—Did she leave—Well, we can talk about that later.

[167]

Father

Dad

[Changing to something not so hard to speak of.] You landed last week?

[Switching to something easier to discuss.] Did you arrive last week?

Craig

Yes, I was held in New York by things to do. [A glance at the Father.] Of course, if I had had any idea—

Yes, I was tied up in New York with things to do. [A glance at the Dad.] Of course, if I had known—

Father

Dad

Of course.

Sure thing.

Craig

But Bernice wrote me she was fine.

But Bernice wrote to me that she was doing fine.

Father

Dad

She seemed so. She was well and—seemed very happy here this fall. You know how she loves to tramp the woods in the fall. She was counting on your coming home. She had done over your room upstairs. And hers too. They both look so nice and fresh. And she was just starting to do some things to Margaret’s room. Margaret was coming next month for a rest. She’s been working very hard.

She really did. She was doing well and seemed really happy here this fall. You know how much she loves to hike in the woods during fall. She was looking forward to you coming home. She had fixed up your room upstairs. And hers too. They both look so nice and clean. And she just started making some updates to Margaret’s room. Margaret is coming next month to relax. She’s been working really hard.

Craig

Are you expecting Margaret now?

Are you waiting for Margaret now?

Father

Dad

Yes. Wednesday evening Bernice seemed to want Margaret to come. She thought maybe Margaret could get away now, and that it would do her good too. She had been worrying about her—thinking she was working too hard. Margaret’s been in Chicago, you know, working on some labor things—I never know[168] just what it is she is doing. Bernice seemed to want to see her. I wonder if Bernice herself felt it was more than we knew. Anyway, she wanted us to send for Margaret.

Yes. On Wednesday evening, Bernice seemed to want Margaret to come over. She thought maybe Margaret could take some time off now, and that it would be good for her too. She had been worried about her—believing she was working too much. Margaret’s been in Chicago, you know, working on some labor issues—I never really know[168] exactly what she’s doing. Bernice seemed eager to see her. I wonder if Bernice felt it was more important than we realized. In any case, she wanted us to reach out to Margaret.

Craig

But you didn’t send for me until—until it was over.

But you didn't call for me until—until it was over.

Father

Dad

No. You see we didn’t know—Abbie and I didn’t have any idea—I spoke of sending for you when we sent the telegram for Margaret, but Bernice said you’d be here soon anyway, and she didn’t want to hurry you away from New York. [As if not understanding it himself, and trying to find an explanation.] I suppose you were doing something that she knew about, and didn’t want to interrupt.

No. You see, we didn't know—Abbie and I had no idea—I mentioned sending for you when we sent the telegram for Margaret, but Bernice said you'd be here soon anyway, and she didn't want to rush you away from New York. [As if he didn't understand it himself and was trying to find an explanation.] I guess you were doing something that she knew about and didn't want to interrupt.

[Craig half looks at him.

Craig glances at him.

Craig

And Margaret answered that she was coming?

And Margaret replied that she was on her way?

Father

Dad

Yes, we heard from her Thursday morning that she had started. She could get here today. We didn’t know where to reach her telling her it was too late now for—for the visit with Bernice. [Breaking.] I just can’t believe it! Think of what you and I are talking about! Bernice, out of life. She was so—of it. Didn’t you feel that, Craig—about Bernice?

Yes, we heard from her Thursday morning that she had started. She could get here today. We didn’t know how to reach her to tell her it was too late now for—for the visit with Bernice. [Breaking.] I just can’t believe it! Think about what you and I are talking about! Bernice, out of life. She was so—into it. Didn’t you feel that, Craig—about Bernice?

Craig

Yes. She seemed so—secured. It never seemed anything could—destroy Bernice.

Yes. She seemed so—secure. It never seemed like anything could—destroy Bernice.

[169]

Father

Dad

When I think she won’t come down those stairs again!

When I think she won't come down those stairs again!

Craig

I can’t—think of things that way now.

I can't—see things that way now.

Father

Dad

No. No, of course not. [He does not know what to say, so gathers together his cards, then books.] I’ll just—I was just going in my room. [Pause.] I’ve been getting on fine with my Sanscrit, Craig.

No. No, of course not. [He doesn’t know what to say, so he gathers his cards and then his books.] I’ll just—I was just going to my room. [Pause.] I’ve been doing well with my Sanskrit, Craig.

Craig

That’s good.

Sounds great.

Father

Dad

And now the war is over, and some of the people who fussed around about it influenced it as little as I, and I—have my Sanscrit. You know, Bernice used to laugh at me, Craig. She—the way she used to laugh at us—lovingly. Seems to me I’ll miss that most of all.

And now the war is over, and some of the people who stressed about it made as little impact as I did, and I—have my Sanskrit. You know, Bernice used to laugh at me, Craig. The way she laughed at us—affectionately. I think I’ll miss that the most.

[He goes into his room—through the door to the rear of the stairway.

[He enters his room—through the door at the back of the stairs.]

[Alone in the room, Craig tries to look around. He cannot. He has taken a step toward the closed door when he hears Abbie’s step on the stairs.

[Alone in the room, Craig tries to look around. He can't. He takes a step toward the closed door when he hears Abbie’s footsteps on the stairs.]

Craig

[Impetuously going to her, his hands out.] Abbie, you were good to her. [Takes her hands, holds them tight. Then changing.] Why didn’t you telegraph me when she was taken sick? [Violently.] Do you[170] think there was anything in New York I wouldn’t have left? Bernice knew that if she needed me—She never seemed to need me. I never felt she—couldn’t get along without me. [Taking a few stumbling steps toward the room where Bernice is.] Oh, I wish I could have a talk with her.

[Going to her impulsively, hands outstretched.] Abbie, you were so good to her. [Takes her hands, holding them tightly. Then shifting.] Why didn’t you send me a telegram when she got sick? [With intensity.] Do you[170] think there was anything in New York I wouldn’t have left behind? Bernice knew that if she needed me—she just never seemed to. I never felt like she—couldn’t manage without me. [Taking a few unsteady steps toward the room where Bernice is.] Oh, I wish I could talk to her.

Abbie

Mr. Norris! [Her tone halts him.] There’s something I must tell you.

Mr. Norris! [Her tone stops him.] There's something I need to tell you.

Craig

A—message she left?

A—message she sent?

Abbie

Message? No. Yes—perhaps. Before you go in there I must tell you—

Message? No. Yes—maybe. Before you go in there, I need to tell you—

[They are arrested by the sound of a stopping car; neither moves; in a moment Margaret Pierce hurries in.

[They freeze at the sound of a car pulling up; neither of them moves; after a moment, Margaret Pierce rushes in.]

Margaret

[After looking at them.] She’s worse? [Growing more and more alarmed by them.] Where is she?

[After looking at them.] She's worse? [Growing more and more alarmed by them.] Where is she?

[Starts towards the stairs.

[Heads toward the stairs.

Abbie

No—there.

No—over there.

[Pointing.

Pointing.

Craig

[Stepping between Margaret and the closed door.] She’s dead, Margaret.

[Stepping between Margaret and the closed door.] She's gone, Margaret.

[171]

Margaret

Dead? Oh—no. Not Bernice. [Waits imploringly.] But that couldn’t be.

Dead? Oh—no. Not Bernice. [Waits imploringly.] But that couldn't be.

Craig

I know. I know what you mean, Margaret.

I understand. I get what you’re saying, Margaret.

[It seems Margaret is about to fall; Craig brings a chair; without taking a step she sinks to it, facing the closed door. Abbie turns and goes out, toward the kitchen.

It looks like Margaret is going to fall; Craig grabs a chair; without moving, she sinks into it, facing the closed door. Abbie turns and heads out toward the kitchen.

Margaret

[A slight quick turn of her head to him.] I don’t believe it!

[A quick glance in his direction.] I can’t believe it!

Craig

It’s true, Margaret.

It's true, Margaret.

Margaret

[Like blood from her heart.] But Bernice—she was life.

Craig

I know—what you mean.

I get what you mean.

Margaret

[After much has gone on in her.] And I wasn’t here!

[After a lot has happened with her.] And I wasn’t here!

Craig

No. Nor I.

No. Me neither.

Margaret

[A moment later, just having taken this in.] Why weren’t you here?

[A moment later, just having taken this in.] Why weren't you here?

[172]

Craig

I didn’t know she was sick.

I didn't realize she was sick.

Margaret

Your boat got in a week ago.

Your boat arrived a week ago.

Craig

Yes. I was detained in New York.

Yes. I was held in New York.

Margaret

Detained by May Fredericks?

Held by May Fredericks?

Craig

Margaret! Bernice wouldn’t want you to talk that way to me—now.

Margaret! Bernice wouldn't want you to speak to me like that—now.

Margaret

No.

Craig

Why, she knew it. Bernice knew I was staying out on Long Island with them while I was attending to some things about my work. I had a beautiful letter from Bernice. She was perfectly all right—about everything. And I was anxious now to get home to her. I was getting ready to start the very day I got the telegram that—that it was like this. You mean—you think I didn’t make Bernice happy, Margaret?

Why, she knew it. Bernice knew I was staying out on Long Island with them while I was dealing with some work stuff. I got a beautiful letter from Bernice. She was totally fine—about everything. And now I was eager to get home to her. I was planning to leave the very day I received the telegram saying—that it was like this. You mean—you think I didn’t make Bernice happy, Margaret?

Margaret

Oh, I don’t think you had the power to make her very unhappy.

Oh, I don’t think you had the ability to make her really unhappy.

[173]

Craig

That’s a cruel thing to say, Margaret. Bernice wouldn’t say that to me.

That’s hurtful to say, Margaret. Bernice wouldn’t say that to me.

Margaret

[Who is all the while looking straight ahead at the closed door.] No.

[Who is constantly looking straight ahead at the closed door.] No.

Craig

She understood me.

She got me.

Margaret

And was indulgent.

And was lenient.

Craig

[After a pause.] Margaret, did you ever feel you didn’t really get to Bernice?

[After a pause.] Margaret, did you ever feel like you didn’t really connect with Bernice?

Margaret

Get to her? So far as I had power. She never held me back. Life broke through her—a life deeper than anything that could happen to her.

Get to her? As far as I could. She never held me back. Life emerged from her—a life more profound than anything that could happen to her.

Craig

Yes, that’s it. Something you couldn’t destroy. A life in her deeper than anything that could be done to her. That—that makes a difference, Margaret. I never had Bernice.

Margaret

Oh, wasn’t it wonderful to you that beneath what you “had” was a life too full, too rich to be had? I should think that would flow over your life and give it beauty.

Oh, wasn’t it amazing to you that beneath what you “had” was a life too full, too rich to be had? I would think that would overflow into your life and give it beauty.

[174]

Craig

I suppose a man’s feeling is different. He has to feel that he moves—completely moves—yes, could destroy—not that he would, but has the power to reshape the—

I guess a man's feelings are different. He needs to feel that he’s making a move—totally moving—yeah, could turn things upside down—not that he would, but he has the ability to change the—

Margaret

Craig! “Reshape” Bernice! [In anguish.] Oh, I came to see her. Not to sit here talking to you.

Craig

I loved her, Margaret. I valued her—even though her life wasn’t made by my life. And she loved me. You think she didn’t?

I loved her, Margaret. I appreciated her—even though her life wasn't shaped by mine. And she loved me. You think she didn't?

Margaret

No, Craig, I don’t think she didn’t. I know she did. I was thinking of those things in her—even greater than loving. Those things in her even loving never—caught.

No, Craig, I don’t think she didn’t. I know she did. I was thinking about those things in her—even deeper than love. Those things in her that love never really captured.

Craig

Yes. I know, Margaret.

Yeah. I get it, Margaret.

Margaret

I want to see Bernice!

[Crying she goes blindly toward the closed door, and to Bernice.

[Crying, she walks blindly toward the closed door and to Bernice.]

[175]

[A second time left alone in the room, Craig now looks at those various things with which he and Bernice have lived. When he can no longer do this he goes to the passage way at the front of the staircase.

[Craig is alone in the room again, looking at the various things he and Bernice have shared. When he can't do this any longer, he heads to the hallway at the front of the staircase.]

Craig

Abbie! [After a moment’s wait Abbie comes slowly in.] When Miss Margaret came, you were about to tell me something. My wife—left a message for me?

Abbie! [After a moment’s wait Abbie comes slowly in.] When Miss Margaret arrived, you were about to tell me something. Did my wife leave a message for me?

Abbie

Yes. No—I don’t know. [Wildly.] She killed herself!

Yes. No—I don’t know. [Wildly.] She took her own life!

Craig

[Falling back.] What—are—you—saying?

[Falling back.] What—are—you—talking about?

Abbie

She—did it herself. Took her life. Now I’ve told you! You know now!

She did it herself. Took her own life. Now I've told you! You know now!

Craig

[Roughly taking hold of her.] What’s this you’re saying? What’s this lie you’re trying to—[Letting go of her—in horror, imploringly.] Abbie! Tell me it isn’t true.

[Roughly grabbing her.] What are you saying? What’s this lie you’re trying to—[Letting go of her—in shock, pleadingly.] Abbie! Tell me it’s not true.

Abbie

It’s true. I’m telling you. It’s true. She—didn’t want to live any longer—so she took something—ended her life. That’s all. That’s all I can tell you. Nobody knows. Not her father—nobody. I thought I ought to tell you. Now I’ve told you! Let me go. I’ve told you—I—

It’s true. I’m serious. It’s true. She—didn’t want to live anymore—so she took something—ended her life. That’s it. That’s all I can say. Nobody knows. Not her dad—nobody. I thought I should tell you. Now I’ve told you! Let me go. I’ve told you—I—

[176]

[She breaks from him and rushes out. Craig does not move. Margaret comes from Bernice, without looking at Craig, opens the door to go outside.

She pulls away from him and hurries out. Craig stays still. Margaret comes from Bernice, not glancing at Craig, and opens the door to step outside.

Craig

[Scarcely able to call to her.] Margaret.

[Barely able to call out to her.] Margaret.

Margaret

[Not turning.] I’ll be back soon.

[Not turning.] I’ll be back shortly.

Craig

[Wildly.] You can’t go away leaving me alone with this! I tell you I can’t stand it. You’re going to the woods to think of Bernice! Well I’ll tell you one thing. You never knew Bernice. You thought she didn’t love me. You think I didn’t matter. But Bernice killed herself because she loved me so!

[Wildly.] You can’t just leave me alone with this! I’m telling you I can’t handle it. You’re going to the woods to think about Bernice! Well, I’ll tell you one thing. You never really knew Bernice. You thought she didn’t love me. You think I didn’t matter. But Bernice took her own life because she loved me so much!

Margaret

What—are—you—saying?

What are you saying?

Craig

Abbie just told me. No one knows. Not her father—only Abbie.

Abbie just told me. No one knows. Not her dad—only Abbie.

Margaret

It is not true.

It's not true.

Craig

Yes. Abbie was with her. Oh, Margaret, she loved me like that.

Margaret

And you killed her!

Craig

No—Oh, don’t say that! I didn’t know.

[177]

Margaret

[After trying to take it in.] I knew Bernice. She was life. She came from the whole of life. You are asking me to believe that because of—some little thing in her own life—

[After trying to take it in.] I knew Bernice. She was everything. She was made from the essence of life. You want me to believe that because of—some minor thing in her own life—

Craig

But it wasn’t a little thing. That’s what we didn’t know. I was everything to Bernice. More than all that life we felt—[Some one is heard above.] I think Laura’s coming down. Laura mustn’t know. I had to have you know. Nobody else. Not Laura.

But it wasn’t a small thing. That’s what we didn’t know. I was everything to Bernice. More than all that life we felt—[Someone is heard above.] I think Laura’s coming down. Laura mustn’t know. I just needed you to know. Nobody else. Not Laura.

Laura

[On the stairs.] Oh, Margaret, you have come?

[On the stairs.] Oh, Margaret, you made it?

Margaret

I was just going out. [As Laura comes nearer.] I’m going to take a walk!

I was just heading out. [As Laura comes closer.] I'm going for a walk!

[She goes out.

She is going out.

Laura

[Looking after her.] Take a walk. She always does some strange thing. [Craig has sunk to a chair, his back to Laura.] Why should she rush away like this, as if it were so much harder for her to stay in this house than for anyone else? [Craig, bowed, covers his face with his hands.] Has she been trying to make you feel badly, Craig? [She goes up to him and puts a hand on his bent shoulder.] Don’t let her do that. It isn’t true. It isn’t as if Bernice were—like most women. There was something—aloof in Bernice. You saw it in her eyes; even in her[178] smile. Oh, I thought she was wonderful, too. Only, it isn’t as if Bernice—

[Taking care of her.] Go for a walk. She always does something odd. [Craig has slumped into a chair, his back to Laura.] Why does she have to leave so suddenly, as if it’s so much harder for her to be in this house than for anyone else? [Craig, hunched over, covers his face with his hands.] Has she been trying to make you feel guilty, Craig? [She approaches him and places a hand on his hunched shoulder.] Don’t let her get to you. It’s not true. It’s not like Bernice is—like most women. There was something—distant in Bernice. You could see it in her eyes; even in her[178] smile. Oh, I thought she was great, too. It’s just that it’s not like Bernice—

Craig

If you think she didn’t love me, you’re wrong!

If you think she didn't love me, you're mistaken!

Laura

Oh—Craig! Love you, of course. Only—things that might have hurt another woman—

Oh—Craig! I love you, of course. But—things that could have hurt another woman—

Craig

How do we know who’s hurt? Who isn’t? Who loves—who doesn’t love? Don’t talk, Laura.

How do we know who's hurting? Who's not? Who loves—who doesn't love? Don't talk, Laura.

[She stands there beside him; the Father, coming in, at first sees only Laura.

[She stands there next to him; the Dad, entering, initially notices only Laura.

Father

Dad

I must have dropped the ten of diamonds. [Seeing Craig.] Of course. Of course. I try not to think of it. My little girl. She loved life so. Always. From the time she was a baby she did rejoice so in the world.

I must have dropped the ten of diamonds. [Seeing Craig.] Of course. Of course. I try not to think about it. My little girl. She loved life so much. Always. From the time she was a baby, she truly enjoyed the world.

[He stands looking at the closed door. Abbie comes in; looks at Craig, hesitates, then slowly crosses the room and takes the traveling-bag he brought in when he came; another look at his bowed head, then, herself bowed, starts up the stairs.

He stands there staring at the closed door. Abbie enters, glances at Craig, hesitates, then slowly walks across the room and picks up the travel bag he brought in when he arrived; she takes another look at his lowered head, then, with her head down, begins to head up the stairs.

(Curtain)

Curtain

[179]

ACT TWO

Scene: As in Act One, save that it is evening now; the reading lamp is lighted, and candles. Laura is sitting before the fire knitting. Abbie is standing at the foot of the stairs, as if Laura had called to her as she came down.

Scene: Like in Act One, but now it’s evening; the reading lamp is on, and there are lit candles. Laura is sitting in front of the fire, knitting. Abbie is standing at the bottom of the stairs, as if Laura had called out to her when she came down.

Laura

But he took the tray, did he, Abbie?

But he took the tray, right, Abbie?

Abbie

He let me leave it.

He let me keep it.

Laura

And how did he seem?

And how did he look?

Abbie

I didn’t see his face. And he didn’t say anything.

Laura

He wasn’t like that until Margaret Pierce came. How long was Mrs. Norris sick, Abbie? [As she asks this the outer door opens and Margaret comes in.] Been out looking at the stars, Margaret? Aren’t they bright up here in the hills?

He wasn't like that until Margaret Pierce showed up. How long was Mrs. Norris sick, Abbie? [As she asks this, the outer door opens and Margaret walks in.] Been outside looking at the stars, Margaret? Aren't they bright up here in the hills?

Margaret

I—I didn’t see them.

I didn't see them.

[180]

[She looks at Abbie, who is looking at her. Abbie turns away from Margaret’s look.

She looks at Abbie, who is looking back at her. Abbie turns away from Margaret's gaze.

Laura

I was asking you—how long was Mrs. Norris sick, Abbie?

Abbie

Two days.

Laura

And just what did the doctor say was the matter?

And what did the doctor say was wrong?

Abbie

The doctor wasn’t here.

The doctor isn't here.

[She steals a glance at Margaret, who is all the while looking at her.

She glances at Margaret, who is constantly watching her.

Laura

I know. But afterwards—what was his opinion?

I know. But later—what did he think?

Abbie

Attacks like she had had before—only worse. Ulcers in the stomach, he thought it was.

Attacks like she had experienced before—only worse. Stomach ulcers, he thought it was.

Laura

It’s a great pity you couldn’t get a doctor. That’s the worst of living way up here by one’s self. Mrs. Norris had seemed well, hadn’t she?

It’s such a shame you couldn’t get a doctor. That’s the downside of living all the way up here by yourself. Mrs. Norris had seemed fine, right?

Abbie

Yes, except once in a while; the doctor had said that she ought to go to the hospital to find out.

Yes, except for once in a while; the doctor had said that she should go to the hospital to find out.

Margaret

[To Laura.] Too bad Craig wasn’t here.

[To Laura.] It's a shame Craig isn't here.

[181]

Laura

Yes. He was detained in New York.

Yes. He was held in New York.

Margaret

Yes. I know.

Yes, I know.

Laura

Abbie, I wish you would go up and ask Mr. Norris if he would like some more coffee and—see how he seems. [To Margaret, resentfully.] I don’t understand why Craig should be quite like this. [Abbie does not move until Laura looks at her in surprise, then she turns to go.] No; I’ll go myself, Abbie. I want to see how he is.

Abbie, I wish you would go up and ask Mr. Norris if he wants more coffee and—check on how he seems. [To Margaret, resentfully.] I don’t get why Craig is acting like this. [Abbie doesn’t move until Laura looks at her in surprise, then she turns to go.] No, I’ll go myself, Abbie. I want to see how he’s doing.

[She goes up, and Abbie comes back. Without looking at Margaret she is turning toward the kitchen.

She heads upstairs, and Abbie comes back. Without glancing at Margaret, she is moving toward the kitchen.

Margaret

Abbie! [Reluctantly Abbie comes back, at first not looking up. Then she raises her eyes.] Yes, he told me. [Abbie does not speak or move.] Had she seemed unhappy, Abbie?

Abbie! [Reluctantly Abbie comes back, at first not looking up. Then she raises her eyes.] Yes, he told me. [Abbie does not speak or move.] Did she seem unhappy, Abbie?

Abbie

No. No, I hadn’t noticed anything.

No. No, I didn't notice anything.

Margaret

Abbie! Don’t shut me out like this! She wouldn’t shut me out. Bernice loved me.

Abbie! Don’t ignore me like this! She wouldn’t ignore me. Bernice loved me.

Abbie

I know. I know she did. But there’s nothing for me to tell you, Miss Margaret, and it’s hard for me[182] to talk about. I loved her too. I lived with her her whole life long. First the baby I took care of and played with—then all the changing with the different years—then this—

I know. I know she did. But there's nothing for me to share with you, Miss Margaret, and it's tough for me[182] to talk about. I loved her too. I was with her her whole life. First the baby I cared for and played with—then all the changes through the years—then this—

[A move of her hands towards the closed door.

[A gesture of her hands toward the closed door.]

Margaret

Yes—then this. [Gently.] That’s it, Abbie. “This”—takes away from all that. Abbie, do you understand it? If you do, won’t you help me?

Abbie

I don’t understand it.

I don’t get it.

Margaret

It’s something so—outside all the rest. That’s why I can’t accept it. Something in me just won’t take it in—because it isn’t right. I knew her. I know I knew her! And this—Why then I didn’t know her. Can’t you help me?

It’s something so—unlike everything else. That’s why I can’t accept it. There’s something in me that just won’t accept it—because it isn’t right. I knew her. I know I knew her! And this—then why didn’t I know her? Can’t you help me?

Abbie

I don’t see how, Miss Margaret.

I don't see how, Miss Margaret.

Margaret

But if you would tell me things you know—little things—even though they meant nothing to you they might mean something to me. Abbie! Because you loved her don’t you want what she was to go on living in our hearts?

But if you could share the things you know—small details—even if they didn’t mean much to you, they could mean a lot to me. Abbie! Since you loved her, don’t you want her memory to keep living in our hearts?

Abbie

Oh, I do! I do! But she’ll go on living in my heart without my understanding what she did.

Oh, I do! I do! But she’ll continue to live in my heart without me understanding what she did.

[183]

Margaret

But differently. I’ll tell you what I mean. Everything about her has always been—herself. That was one of the rare things about her. And herself—oh, it’s something you don’t want to lose! It’s been the beauty in my life. In my busy practical life, Bernice—what she was—like a breath that blew over my life and—made it something.

But in a different way. Let me explain what I mean. Everything about her has always been—herself. That was one of the unique things about her. And herself—oh, it’s something you definitely don’t want to lose! It’s been the beauty in my life. In my hectic, practical life, Bernice—what she was—was like a breath that swept over my life and—made it something.

Abbie

I know—just what you mean, Miss Margaret.

I get what you mean, Miss Margaret.

Margaret

It’s inconceivable that she should—cut off her own life. In her lived all the life that was behind her. You felt that in her—so wonderfully. She felt it in herself—or her eyes couldn’t have been like that. Could they? Could they, Abbie?

It’s unimaginable that she would—end her own life. In her was all the life that had come before her. You could feel that in her—so beautifully. She felt it in herself—or her eyes couldn’t have looked like that. Could they? Could they, Abbie?

Abbie

It—wouldn’t seem so.

It—wouldn't look like that.

Margaret

She wouldn’t destroy so much. Why she never destroyed anything—a flower—a caterpillar. Don’t you see what I mean, Abbie? This denies so much. And then is it true that all this time she wasn’t happy? Why she seemed happy—as trees grow. Did Mr. Norris make her unhappy? Oh, don’t think you shouldn’t talk about it. Don’t act as if I shouldn’t ask. It’s too big for those little scruples. Abbie! I can’t let Bernice’s life go out in darkness. So tell me—just what happened—each little thing. [Margaret[184] has taken hold of Abbie; Abbie has turned away.] When did you first know she had—taken something? Just what did she say to you about it? I want to know each little thing! I have a right to know.

She wouldn’t destroy so much. She never destroyed anything—a flower—a caterpillar. Don’t you get what I’m saying, Abbie? This denies so much. And is it really true that all this time she wasn’t happy? She seemed happy—like trees growing. Did Mr. Norris make her unhappy? Oh, don’t think you shouldn’t talk about it. Don’t act like I shouldn’t ask. It’s too important for those little scruples. Abbie! I can’t let Bernice’s life end in darkness. So tell me—just what happened—each little thing. [Margaret has taken hold of Abbie; Abby has turned away.] When did you first realize she had—taken something? What exactly did she say to you about it? I want to know every little detail! I have a right to know.

[A step is heard above.

A step is heard upstairs.

Abbie

[As if saved.] Mrs. Kirby’s coming down now.

[As if saved.] Mrs. Kirby is coming down now.

Margaret

I want to talk to you, Abbie, after the others have gone to bed.

I want to talk to you, Abbie, after everyone else has gone to bed.

[Laura comes down, Abbie passes her at the foot of the stairs, and goes through to the kitchen.

[Laura comes down, Abbie passes her at the bottom of the stairs and goes into the kitchen.

Laura

Margaret, what is to be gained in making people feel worse than they need? Craig upstairs—he’s so broken—strange. And even Abbie as she passed me now. You seem to do this to them. And why?

Margaret, what’s the point of making people feel worse than necessary? Craig upstairs—he’s really struggling—it's odd. And even Abbie as she walked by me just now. You seem to do this to them. Why?

Margaret

I don’t do it to them. I’m not very happy myself.

I don’t do that to them. I’m not really happy myself.

Laura

Of course not. None of us can be that. But I believe we should try to bear things with courage.

Of course not. None of us can do that. But I believe we should make an effort to face things with courage.

Margaret

That comes easily from the person who’s bearing little!

That comes easily from someone who’s carrying so little!

[185]

Laura

You think it means nothing to me that my brother has lost his wife?

You think it doesn't matter to me that my brother has lost his wife?

Margaret

Your brother has lost his wife! That’s all you see in it!

Your brother has lost his wife! That’s all you care about!

Laura

I don’t see why you seem so wild—so resentful, Margaret. Death should soften us.

I don’t understand why you’re acting so wild—so bitter, Margaret. Death should make us more compassionate.

[She takes her old place before the fire.

She takes her usual spot in front of the fire.

Margaret

Well I can tell you this doesn’t soften me!

Well, I can tell you this doesn’t make me any softer!

Laura

I see that you feel hard toward Craig. But Bernice didn’t. You think he should have come right home. But you must be just enough to admit he didn’t have any idea Bernice was going to be taken suddenly sick. He had been out of the country for three months, naturally there were things connected with his writing to see about.

I see that you’re upset with Craig. But Bernice wasn’t. You think he should have come home immediately. But you have to be fair and admit he had no idea Bernice was going to get suddenly sick. He had been out of the country for three months, so there were definitely things related to his writing he needed to take care of.

Margaret

Connected with his writing! Laura! Don’t lie about life with death in the next room. If you want to talk at a time like this, have the decency to be honest! Try to see the truth about living. Craig stayed in New York with May Fredericks—and he doesn’t pretend anything else. Stayed there with May Fredericks, continuing an affair that has been going on for the past year. And before it was May Fredericks it was this one and that one. Well, all right. That[186] may be all right. I’m not condemning Craig for his affairs. I’m condemning you for the front you’re trying to put up!

Connected with his writing! Laura! Don’t lie about life with death in the next room. If you want to talk at a time like this, have the decency to be honest! Try to see the truth about living. Craig stayed in New York with May Fredericks—and he doesn't pretend anything else. He stayed there with May Fredericks, continuing an affair that has been going on for the past year. And before it was May Fredericks, it was this one and that one. Well, fine. That may be all right. I’m not condemning Craig for his affairs. I’m condemning you for the front you’re trying to put up!

Laura

I certainly am not trying to put up any front. It’s merely that there seems nothing to be gained in speaking of certain things. If Craig was—really unfaithful, I do condemn him for that. I haven’t your liberal ideas. [Slight pause, she takes up her knitting.] It’s unfortunate Bernice hadn’t the power to hold Craig.

I definitely don’t want to pretend. It’s just that there seems to be no point in talking about certain things. If Craig was actually unfaithful, I do criticize him for that. I don’t share your open-minded views. [Slight pause, she picks up her knitting.] It’s a shame Bernice didn’t have the ability to keep Craig.

Margaret

Hadn’t the power to hold Craig!

Hadn't the power to keep Craig!

Laura

She didn’t want to—I suppose your scoffing means. Well, she should have wanted to. It’s what a wife should want to do.

She didn’t want to—I guess that’s what your sneering indicates. Well, she should have wanted to. It's what a wife is supposed to want to do.

Margaret

Oh, Laura, Bernice will never say one more word for herself! In there. Alone. Still. She will not do one new thing to—to throw a light back on other things. That’s death. A leaving of one’s life. Leaving it—with us. I cannot talk to you about what Bernice “should have been.” What she was came true and deep from—[Throwing out her hands as if giving up saying it. Taking it up again.] It’s true there was something in her Craig did not control. Something he couldn’t mess up. There was something in her he might have drawn from and become bigger than he was. But he’s vain. He has to be bowling some one over all the time—to show that he has power.

Oh, Laura, Bernice will never speak up for herself again! In there. Alone. Still. She won’t do anything new to shed light on other things. That’s death. A leaving of one’s life. Leaving it—with us. I can’t talk to you about what Bernice “should have been.” What she was came true and deep from—[Throwing out her hands as if giving up saying it. Picking it up again.] It’s true there was something in her Craig couldn’t control. Something he couldn’t mess up. There was something in her he could have drawn from and become greater than he was. But he’s vain. He has to be impressing someone all the time—to show that he has power.

[187]

Laura

I don’t agree with you that Craig is especially vain. He’s a man. He does want to affect—yes, dominate the woman he loves. And if Bernice didn’t give him that feeling of—

I don’t agree with you that Craig is especially vain. He’s a man. He does want to influence—yes, dominate the woman he loves. And if Bernice didn’t give him that feeling of—

Margaret

Supremacy.

Dominance.

Laura

There’s no use trying to talk with you of personal things. Certainly I don’t want to quarrel tonight. That would not be the thing. [In a new tone.] How is your work going? I don’t quite know what you are doing now, but trying to get some one out of prison, I suppose?

There’s no point in discussing personal stuff with you. I definitely don’t want to argue tonight. That wouldn’t be right. [In a new tone.] How is your work going? I’m not really sure what you’re working on right now, but I guess you’re trying to help someone get out of prison?

Margaret

Yes; I am trying to get out of prison all those people who are imprisoned for ideas.

Yes; I am trying to free all those people who are locked up for their beliefs.

Laura

I see.

Got it.

Margaret

I doubt if you see, Laura.

I doubt you see it, Laura.

Laura

Well I don’t say I sympathize. But I see.

Well, I can't say I feel sorry for you. But I understand.

Margaret

No; for if you did see, you would have to sympathize. If you did see, you would be ashamed; you would have to—hang your head for this thing of locking any man up because of what his mind sees. If[188] thinking is not to become—whatever thinking may become!—then why are we here at all? [She stops and thinks of it.] Why does Bernice—her death—make that so simple tonight? Because she was herself. She had the gift for being herself. And she wanted each one to have the chance to be himself. Anything else hurt her—as it hurt her to see a dog tied, or a child at a narrow window.

No; because if you really saw, you'd have to feel for it. If you really saw, you'd be embarrassed; you'd have to—hang your head for the fact that we're locking someone up just because of what they think. If[188] thinking isn't meant to evolve—whatever that evolution may look like!—then why are we even here? [She stops and thinks about it.] Why does Bernice—her death—make all of this so clear tonight? Because she was true to herself. She had a talent for being authentic. And she wanted everyone to have the opportunity to be themselves. Anything less hurt her—just like it hurt her to see a dog tied up or a child stuck at a small window.

Laura

I don’t think Bernice was a very good wife for a writer.

I don’t think Bernice was a great wife for a writer.

Margaret

She would have been a wonderful wife for a real writer.

She would have been an amazing wife for a true writer.

Laura

Oh, I know she didn’t value Craig’s work. And that’s another thing. And I suppose you don’t value it either. [She looks at Margaret, who does not speak.] Fortunately there are many thousands of people in this country who do value it. And I suppose you think what I do of little value too. I suppose you scoff at those things we do to put cripples back in life.

Oh, I know she didn’t appreciate Craig’s work. And that’s another thing. I guess you don’t value it either. [She looks at Margaret, who doesn’t respond.] Fortunately, there are thousands of people in this country who do value it. And I imagine you think what I do isn’t worth much either. I suppose you mock those efforts we make to help people with disabilities get their lives back.

Margaret

No, Laura, I don’t scoff at anything that can be done for cripples. Since men have been crippled, cripples must be helped. I only say—Don’t cripple minds—strong free minds that might go—we know not where! Might go into places where the light of a mind has never been. [Rising.] Think of it! Think of that chance of making life even greater than[189] death. [With passion.] If you have any respect for life—any reverence—you have to leave the mind free. I do not scoff at you, but you are not a serious person. You have no faith—no hope—no self-respect!

No, Laura, I don’t dismiss anything that helps people with disabilities. Since people have been disabled, they need support. I just say—don’t limit minds—strong, free minds that could explore—we don't know where! They could reach places where the light of a mind has never shone. [Rising.] Think about it! Consider that chance to make life even more significant than[189] death. [With passion.] If you have any respect for life—any appreciation—you have to keep the mind free. I don't dismiss you, but you’re not a serious person. You have no faith—no hope—no self-respect!

Laura

[Rising.] You tell me I have no self-respect! You who have not cared what people thought of you—who have not had the sense of fitness—the taste—to hold the place you were born to—you tell me, against whom no word was ever spoken, that I have no self-respect?

[Rising.] You say I have no self-respect! You, who never cared what others thought of you—who lack the judgment—the good taste—to stay in the position you were meant for—you tell me, someone against whom no negative word was ever mentioned, that I have no self-respect?

Margaret

You have a blameless reputation, Laura. You have no self-respect. If you had any respect for your own mind you could not be willing to limit the mind of any other. If you had any respect for your own spiritual life you could not be willing to push your self into the spiritual life of another. [Roughly.] No! You could not. [As one seeing far.] I see it as I never saw it. Oh I wish I could talk to Bernice! Something is down. I could see things as I never saw them.

You have an impeccable reputation, Laura. You lack self-respect. If you valued your own mind, you wouldn’t be willing to restrict someone else's. If you valued your own spiritual life, you wouldn’t be willing to push your self into someone else's spiritual journey. [Roughly.] No! You couldn’t. [As one seeing far.] I see it now like I never did before. Oh, I wish I could talk to Bernice! Something is off. I can see things like I never saw them before.

Laura

[Gathering up the things she had been working with.] I will go before I am insulted further.

[Gathering up the things she had been working with.] I'm leaving before I get insulted anymore.

Margaret

There’s nothing insulting in trying to find the truth. [Impulsively reaching out her hands to Laura, as she is indignantly going.] Oh, Laura, we die so soon! We live so in the dark. We never become what we[190] might be. I should think we could help each other more.

There’s nothing disrespectful about seeking the truth. [Impulsively reaching out her hands to Laura, as she is indignantly leaving.] Oh, Laura, we don’t have much time! We live so much in the dark. We never reach our full potential. I would think we could support each other more.

Laura

[After being a moment held.] It would have to be done more sympathetically.

[After being a moment held.] It would need to be done with more understanding.

Margaret

I didn’t mean to be unsympathetic. [Watching Laura go up the stairs.] I suppose that’s the trouble with me. [She stands a moment thinking of this. Then there is something she wants to say. She knows then that she is alone—and in this room. Slowly she turns and faces the closed door. Stands so, quite still, realizing. Suddenly turns to the stairway, goes up a few steps.] Craig! [Listens, then goes up another step and calls a little louder.] Craig!

I didn't mean to be cold. [Watching Laura walk up the stairs.] I guess that’s my issue. [She pauses for a moment, reflecting on this. Then she has something she wants to say. She realizes that she is alone—in this room. Slowly she turns and faces the closed door. She stands there, completely still, understanding. Suddenly she turns to the stairs and goes up a few steps.] Craig! [Listens, then goes up another step and calls a bit louder.] Craig!

Laura

[From above.] Please don’t disturb Craig, Margaret.

[From above.] Please don’t bother Craig, Margaret.

[Margaret hesitates, turns to go down. A door opens above.

[Margaret pauses, then starts to head down. A door opens above.]

Craig

Did some one call me?

Did someone call me?

Margaret

I did, Craig. I’m down here alone—lonely.

I did, Craig. I'm down here by myself—feeling lonely.

Craig

[As if glad to do so.] I’ll come down. [After coming.] I wanted to come down. I thought Laura was down here. I can’t pretend—not tonight.

[191]

Margaret

No. I can’t. I wanted so to talk to Bernice, and when I couldn’t I—called to you.

No. I can’t. I really wanted to talk to Bernice, and when I couldn’t, I called you.

Craig

I was glad to hear my name. It’s too much alone. [He and Margaret stand there hesitatingly, as if they are not able to do it—settle down in this room and talk. Craig takes out his cigarette case. In the subdued voice of one whose feeling is somewhere else.] You want a cigarette, Margaret?

I was happy to hear my name. It’s too lonely being by myself. [He and Margaret stand there hesitantly, as if they can’t bring themselves to settle down in this room and talk. Craig pulls out his cigarette case, speaking in a quiet voice that reveals he’s somewhere else mentally.] Do you want a cigarette, Margaret?

Margaret

No. I don’t believe so.

No, I don’t think so.

Craig

Oh, I remember, you don’t like these. Bernice must have some of the—

[He opens a chest on the mantel, takes from it a beautiful little box.

[He opens a chest on the mantel and takes out a beautiful little box.

Margaret

[As she sees the box.] Oh—[Turning away.] Thank you, Craig, but—

Craig

Of course. [Holds the box for a moment, then slowly replaces it. He looks around the room. Then, helplessly.] I don’t know what I’m going to do.

Of course. [Holds the box for a moment, then slowly puts it back. He looks around the room. Then, helplessly.] I have no idea what I’m going to do.

[192]

[He sits down before the fire. Margaret also sits. The door at the other side of the room opens and the Father comes in from his room.

[He sits down in front of the fire. Margaret also takes a seat. The door on the other side of the room opens, and Dad enters from his room.]

Father

Dad

I was going to bed now. I thought I’d go in here first.

I was heading to bed now. I figured I’d stop in here first.

[Slowly goes in where Bernice is. A little while Craig and Margaret sit there silent.

[Slowly enters where Bernice is. A little while Craig and Margaret sit there silently.

Craig

And I don’t know what he’s going to do. Poor old man. Bernice was certainly good to him—keeping him happy in that life he made for himself away from life. It’s queer about him, Margaret. Somehow he just didn’t go on, did he? Made a fight in his youth, and stopped there. He’s one of the wrecks of the Darwinian theory. Spent himself fighting for it, and—let it go at that. [Running his hand through his hair.] Oh, well, I suppose we’re all wrecks of something. [With a nervous laugh.] What are you a wreck of, Margaret? You’re a wreck of free speech. [Impatiently.] I’m talking like a fool. I’m nervous. I’ll be glad when he goes to bed. [Looking upstairs.] I guess Laura’s gone to bed. [After looking into the fire.] Well, Bernice isn’t leaving any children to—be without her. I suppose now it’s just as well we lost our boy before we ever had him. But she would have made a wonderful mother, wouldn’t she, Margaret?

And I have no idea what he’s going to do. Poor old man. Bernice was definitely good to him—keeping him happy in that life he created for himself away from reality. It’s strange about him, Margaret. Somehow he just didn’t move forward, did he? He struggled in his youth and then stopped there. He’s one of the casualties of the Darwinian theory. He used himself up fighting for it, and—left it at that. [Running his hand through his hair.] Oh, well, I guess we’re all casualties of something. [With a nervous laugh.] What are you a casualty of, Margaret? You’re a casualty of free speech. [Impatiently.] I’m talking like an idiot. I’m nervous. I’ll be relieved when he goes to bed. [Looking upstairs.] I suppose Laura’s gone to bed. [After looking into the fire.] Well, Bernice isn’t leaving any children to—be without her. I guess it’s just as well we lost our boy before we even had him. But she would have been a wonderful mother, wouldn’t she, Margaret?

Margaret

Oh, yes!

Absolutely!

Craig

You ever wish you had children, Margaret?

You ever wish you had kids, Margaret?

[193]

Margaret

Yes.

Yeah.

Craig

[Roughly.] Well, why don’t you have?

[About.] Well, why haven't you?

Margaret

[Slowly.] Why, I don’t just know, Craig. Life—seems to get filled up so quickly.

[Slowly.] I really don’t know, Craig. Life—seems to fill up so fast.

Craig

Yes. And before we know it, it’s all over—or as good as over. Funny—how your mind jumps around. Just then I thought of my mother. How she used to say: “Now eat your bread, Craig.”

Yes. And before we realize it, it’s all done—or pretty much done. It’s funny—how your mind wanders. At that moment, I remembered my mom. How she always used to say: “Now eat your bread, Craig.”

[His voice breaks, he buries his face in his hands. Margaret reaches over and puts a hand on his shoulder. The door opens and the Father comes out. He stands looking at them.

[His voice cracks, and he buries his face in his hands. Margaret reaches over and places a hand on his shoulder. The door opens, and the Dad steps out. He stands there, looking at them.]

Father

Dad

[Gently.] Yes. Of course. I’m glad you’re here Margaret. But my little girl looks very peaceful, Craig. [Pause.] She had a happy life.

[Gently.] Yes. Of course. I’m glad you’re here, Margaret. But my little girl looks really peaceful, Craig. [Pause.] She had a happy life.

[Craig moves, turning a little away. Margaret makes a move as if to shield him, but does not do this.

[Craig shifts, turning slightly away. Margaret makes a gesture as if to protect him, but stops short of doing so.]

Father

Dad

Yes; she had a happy life. Didn’t she, Margaret?

Yes, she had a happy life. Didn’t she, Margaret?

Margaret

I always thought so.

I used to think that.

[194]

Father

Dad

Oh, yes. She did. In her own way. A calm way, but very full of her own kind of happiness. [After reflection.] Bernice was good to me. I suppose she might have liked me to have done more things, but—she wanted me to do what—came naturally to me. I suppose that’s why we always felt so—comfortable with her. She was never trying to make us some—outside thing. Well—you know, Margaret, I can see her now as a baby. She was such a nice baby. She used to—reach out her hands. [Doing this himself.] Well, I suppose they all do. I’m going to bed. [After starting.] I’m glad you’re here with Craig, Margaret. Bernice would like this. You two who know all about her—well, no, nobody knew all about Bernice—but you two who were closest to her, here now as—close as you can be. I’m going to bed. Good-night.

Oh, yes. She did. In her own way. A calm way, but very full of her own kind of happiness. [After reflection.] Bernice was good to me. I guess she might have wanted me to do more things, but—she wanted me to do what came naturally to me. I think that’s why we always felt so comfortable with her. She was never trying to make us into something we weren’t. Well—you know, Margaret, I can see her now as a baby. She was such a sweet baby. She used to reach out her hands. [Doing this himself.] Well, I guess they all do. I’m going to bed. [After starting.] I’m glad you’re here with Craig, Margaret. Bernice would like this. You two who know all about her—well, no, nobody knew all about Bernice—but you two who were closest to her, here now as close as you can be. I’m going to bed. Good night.

Margaret

[Crying.] Good-night.

Good night.

Craig

[After the father has closed his door. With violence.] “Reached out her hands!” And what did she get? [Roughly grasping Margaret’s wrists.] I killed Bernice. There’s no use in your saying I didn’t. I did. Only—[Letting go of her] don’t flay me tonight, Margaret. I couldn’t stand it tonight. [With another abrupt change.] Am I a fool? Why did I never know Bernice loved me like this? [In anguish.] Why wouldn’t I know it? [Pause.] We don’t know anything about each other. Do we, Margaret? Nothing. We never—get anywhere. [Shivering.] I’m[195] cold. I wonder if there’s anything to drink in the house. There must be something. [He goes out into the kitchen; after a moment there is the sound of running water; he comes in with a bottle of whiskey, a pitcher of water.] I don’t see the glasses. Things seem to have been moved. [Looks at Margaret as if expecting she will go and get them; she does not; he goes out again. From the kitchen.] Margaret, have you any idea where the glasses are?

[After the father has closed his door. With violence.] “Reach out your hands!” And what did she get? [Roughly grabbing Margaret's wrists.] I killed Bernice. There’s no point in you saying I didn’t. I did. Only—[Letting go of her] don’t flay me tonight, Margaret. I couldn’t handle it tonight. [With another abrupt change.] Am I a fool? Why did I never realize Bernice loved me like this? [In anguish.] Why wouldn’t I know it? [Pause.] We don’t know anything about each other. Do we, Margaret? Nothing. We never—get anywhere. [Shivering.] I’m[195] cold. I wonder if there’s anything to drink in the house. There must be something. [He goes out into the kitchen; after a moment there is the sound of running water; he comes in with a bottle of whiskey, a pitcher of water.] I don’t see the glasses. It seems like things have been moved. [Looks at Margaret as if expecting her to go and get them; she does not; he goes out again. From the kitchen.] Margaret, do you have any idea where the glasses are?

Margaret

No, Craig. I don’t know. [After hearing him moving things around.] Isn’t Abbie somewhere there?

No, Craig. I don’t know. [After hearing him moving things around.] Isn’t Abbie around somewhere?

Craig

No; she isn’t here. She seems to have gone outdoors. She’s left the door open too. No wonder it was cold. [Calling at an outer door.] Abbie! [Sound of the door closing. Again the sound of dishes being moved.] Well, I don’t know where they can have put—

No; she isn’t here. She seems to have gone outside. She left the door open too. No wonder it was cold. [Calling at an outer door.] Abbie! [Sound of the door closing. Again the sound of dishes being moved.] Well, I don’t know where they could have put—

Margaret

[Covering her face.] Don’t look for things. [More quietly.] Bring anything, Craig, there must be something there.

[Covering her face.] Don’t search for things. [More quietly.] Bring anything, Craig, there has to be something there.

Craig

[Coming in with cups.] Things have been moved around. I stumbled over things that didn’t used to be there. You’ll have a little, Margaret? It—we need something.

[Coming in with cups.] Things have been rearranged. I tripped over stuff that wasn’t there before. You want a little, Margaret? We— we need something.

[196]

Margaret

I don’t—oh, I don’t care.

[He pours the drinks and drinks his.

[He pours the drinks and then drinks his.]

Craig

[Abruptly shoving his cup away.] Margaret, I loved Bernice. I suppose you don’t believe that! And I thought Bernice knew I loved her, in spite of—other things. What do you think it is is the matter with me, Margaret, that I—[Saying it as if raw] miss things. You can tell me. I’d be glad to feel some one knew. Only—don’t leave me alone while you’re telling me!

[Abruptly pushing his cup away.] Margaret, I loved Bernice. I guess you don’t believe that! And I thought Bernice knew I loved her, despite—other things. What do you think is wrong with me, Margaret, that I—[Saying it as if it hurts] miss things. You can tell me. I’d be happy to have someone know. Just—don’t leave me alone while you’re telling me!

Margaret

I’m afraid I have nothing to tell you, Craig. I thought I knew Bernice. And now—I did know Bernice! [Gropingly.] I feel something we don’t get to.

I’m sorry, but I have nothing to share with you, Craig. I thought I understood Bernice. And now—I did understand Bernice! [Gropingly.] I feel something we can’t quite grasp.

Craig

And Bernice can’t help us.

And Bernice can't help us.

Margaret

I think she would expect us to—find our way. She could always find her way. She had not meant to leave us here. Bernice was so kind.

I think she would expect us to find our way. She could always find hers. She didn’t mean to leave us here. Bernice was so kind.

Craig

She was kind.

She was nice.

Margaret

Such a sensitive kindness. The kindness that divined feeling and was there ahead—to meet it. This is the very thing she would not do.

Such a thoughtful kindness. The kindness that sensed feelings and was there waiting—to welcome them. This is exactly what she would not do.

[197]

Craig

[Slowly, as if feeling his way.] Margaret, I wish I could tell you about me and Bernice. I loved her. She loved me. But there was something in her that had almost nothing to do with our love.

[Slowly, as if feeling his way.] Margaret, I wish I could explain my relationship with Bernice. I loved her. She loved me. But there was something in her that had very little to do with our love.

Margaret

Yes.

Craig

Well, that isn’t right, Margaret. You want to feel that you have the woman you love. Yes—completely. Yes, every bit of her!

Margaret

So you turned to women whom you could have.

So you went for women you could get.

Craig

Yes.

Margaret

But you “had” all of them simply because there was less to have. You want no baffling sense of something beyond you. [He looks at her reproachfully.] You wanted me to help you find the truth. I don’t believe you can stand truth, Craig.

But you “had” all of them just because there was less to have. You don't want any confusing feeling of something greater than you. [He looks at her reproachfully.] You wanted me to help you find the truth. I don’t think you can handle the truth, Craig.

Craig

It’s hard tonight.

It's tough tonight.

Margaret

[Intensely.] But perhaps it is tonight or not at all. It’s a strange thing this has done. A light trying to find its way through a fog. [In her mind the light[198] tries to do this.] Craig, why do you write the things you do?

[Intensely.] But maybe it’s tonight or never. It’s odd what this has caused. A light trying to break through a fog. [In her mind, the light[198] is trying to do this.] Craig, why do you write what you do?

Craig

Oh, Margaret, is this any time to talk of work?

Oh, Margaret, is this a good time to talk about work?

Margaret

It seems to be. Tonight it’s all part of the same thing. Laura and I were talking of work—quarreling about it: you were talking of Bernice’s father. The light—just goes there. That poor sad old man—why didn’t he go on? You said he was a wreck of the Darwinian theory. Then me—a wreck of free speech.

It looks like it is. Tonight, it all feels connected. Laura and I were discussing work—arguing about it: you were talking about Bernice’s dad. The light—just fades over there. That poor sad old man—why didn’t he keep going? You said he was a mess of the Darwinian theory. And then there’s me—a mess of free speech.

Craig

Oh I didn’t mean you were, Margaret.

Oh, I didn’t mean you were, Margaret.

Margaret

But I might be. I can see that. We give ourselves in fighting for a thing that seems important and in that fight we get out of the flow of life. We had meant it to deepen the flow—but we get caught. I know people like that. People who get at home in their fight—and stay there—and are left there when the fight’s over—like this old man. How many nights Bernice and I have sat in this room and talked of things! And I had thought—[With sudden angry passion.] If you had been good to her, she would be in this room now. [After a look at him.] I’m sorry. But can I help feeling it?

But I might be. I can see that. We invest ourselves in fighting for something that seems important, and in that struggle, we drift away from the flow of life. We intended it to enhance the flow—but instead, we get trapped. I know people like that. People who become comfortable in their fight—and stay there—and are left behind when the fight is over—like this old man. How many nights Bernice and I have sat in this room and talked about things! And I had thought—[With sudden angry passion.] If you had treated her well, she would be here in this room now. [After a look at him.] I’m sorry. But can I help feeling that way?

Craig

I didn’t know.

[199]

Margaret

No; you didn’t know. We don’t know. When you think what a writer might do for life—for we don’t know. You write so well, Craig, but—what of it? What is it is the matter with you—with all you American writers—’most all of you. A well-put-up light—but it doesn’t penetrate anything. It never makes the fog part. Just shows itself off—a well-put-up light. [Growing angry.] It would be better if we didn’t have you at all! Can’t you see that it would? Lights which—only light themselves keep us from having light—from knowing what the darkness is. [After thinking.] Craig, as you write these things are there never times when you sit there dumb and know that you are glib and empty?

No; you didn’t know. We don’t know. When you think about what a writer might do for a living—for we don’t know. You write so well, Craig, but—what’s the point? What’s wrong with you—with all you American writers—almost all of you? A polished light—but it doesn’t reach anything. It never makes the fog clear. It just shows off—a polished light. [Growing angry.] It would be better if we didn’t have you at all! Can’t you see that it would? Lights that—only illuminate themselves keep us from having real light—from understanding what the darkness is. [After thinking.] Craig, when you write these things, are there never times when you sit there dumb and realize that you are just superficial and empty?

Craig

Did you ever try to write, Margaret?

Did you ever attempt to write, Margaret?

Margaret

No.

Craig

I suppose you think it’s very simple to be real. I suppose you think we could do it—if we just wanted to do it. Try it. You try.

I guess you think it's really easy to be genuine. I guess you think we could just do it—if we wanted to. Give it a shot. You try.

Margaret

So you do this just to cover the fact that you can’t do anything? Your skill—a mask for your lack of power?

So you do this just to hide the fact that you can’t do anything? Your skill—a disguise for your lack of power?

Craig

I should think you’d want to be good to me tonight, Margaret.

I think you’d want to be nice to me tonight, Margaret.

[200]

Margaret

Be good to you! Keep you from seeing. That’s the way we’re good to each other. There’s only one thing I could do for you tonight, Craig. You don’t want that. So—

Be good to yourself! Keep yourself safe. That’s how we look out for each other. There’s only one thing I could do for you tonight, Craig. You don’t want that. So—

[Moves as if to rise.

Moves as if to get up.

Craig

No, don’t go away. My brain won’t keep still either. What I think is just as bad as what you say. Well, why do you think it is I—miss things—never get anywhere?

No, don’t leave. My mind won’t settle down either. What I think is just as bad as what you say. So, why do you think I—miss things—never get anywhere?

Margaret

I don’t know. And it’s true of all of us. Of me too. I do things that to me seem important, and yet I just do them—I don’t get to the thing I’m doing them for—to life itself. I don’t simply and profoundly get to life. Bernice did.

I don’t know. And it’s true for all of us. For me too. I do things that seem important to me, and yet I just do them—I don’t actually engage with the reason behind them—to life itself. I don’t simply and profoundly connect with life. Bernice did.

Craig

Yes. Bernice did.

Yes, Bernice did.

Margaret

And yet you had to—shy away from Bernice. Into a smaller world that could be all your world. No, Craig, you haven’t power. It’s true. And for one hour in our lives let’s try to—Those love affairs of yours—they’re like your false writing—to keep yourself from knowing you haven’t power. Did you ever see a child try to do a thing—fail—then turn to something he could do and make a great show of doing that? That’s what most of our lives are like.

And yet you had to—avoid Bernice. Into a smaller world that could be your whole world. No, Craig, you don’t have power. It’s true. And for one hour in our lives let’s try to—Those love affairs of yours—they’re like your fake writing—to keep yourself from realizing you don’t have power. Did you ever see a child try to do something—fail—then turn to something they can do and make a big show of doing that? That’s what most of our lives are like.

[201]

Craig

[Rudely.] Well, why haven’t I power? If you are going to be any good to me—tell me that.

[Rudely.] Well, why don’t I have power? If you’re going to be any help to me—tell me that.

Margaret

[Shaking her head.] I can’t tell you that. I haven’t any light that—goes there. But isn’t it true? Isn’t your life this long attempt to appear effective—to persuade yourself that you are something? What a way to spend the little time there is for living.

[Shaking her head.] I can’t tell you that. I don’t have any insight that—goes there. But isn’t it true? Isn’t your life this long effort to seem successful—to convince yourself that you are something? What a way to spend the little time we have for living.

Craig

I fancy it’s the way most lives are spent.

I think that’s how most lives are lived.

Margaret

That only makes it infinitely sadder.

That just makes it so much sadder.

Craig

[As if he can stay in this no longer.] As to writing, Margaret, the things that interest you wouldn’t interest most people.

[As if he can stay in this no longer.] When it comes to writing, Margaret, the topics that fascinate you wouldn't capture the attention of most people.

Margaret

“Wouldn’t interest most people!” Oh, Craig, don’t slide away from that one honest moment. Say you haven’t got it. Don’t say they wouldn’t want it. Why, if now—in this our day—our troubled day of many shadows—came a light—a light to reach those never lighted places—wouldn’t want it? I wish some one could try them! No, Craig, they all have their times of suspecting their lives are going by in a fog. They’re pitifully anxious for a little light.[202] Why—they continue to look to writers. You know, Craig, what living makes of us—it’s a rim—a bounded circle—and yet we know—have our times of suspecting—that if we could break through that. [Seeing.] O-h. It’s like living in the mountains—those high vast places of Colorado—in a little house with shaded windows. You’d suspect what was there! A little sunshine through the cracks—mountain smells—and at times the house would shake—and you’d wonder—and be fretted in your little room. And if some day you could put up the shade and—see where you were. Life would never be so small a thing again. Bernice could do that. Her own life did not bound her.

"Most people wouldn't care!" Oh, Craig, don’t back away from that one honest moment. Just admit you don’t have it. Don’t say they wouldn’t want it. If, right now—in this our time—our troubled time filled with shadows—there came a light—a light to reach those dark places—wouldn’t everyone want it? I wish someone could give it a shot! No, Craig, everyone has their moments of feeling like their lives are slipping by in a fog. They’re desperately craving a little light.[202] Why—they keep looking to writers. You know, Craig, what life makes of us—it’s a rim—a confined circle—and yet we know—sometimes suspect—that if we could break through that. [Seeing.] Oh. It’s like living in the mountains—those vast high places of Colorado—in a small house with shaded windows. You’d wonder what was out there! A little sunshine peeking through the cracks—mountain scents—and sometimes the house would shake—and you’d be curious—and anxious in your little room. And if one day you could pull up the shade and—see where you were. Life would never feel so small again. Bernice could do that. Her own life did not limit her.

Craig

No. That was what—

Margaret

Hurt your vanity?

Hurt your pride?

Craig

I don’t know. I’m trying to be honest. I honestly don’t know.

I don’t know. I’m trying to be honest. I truly don’t know.

Margaret

No. We don’t know. That’s why—oh, Craig, it would be so wonderful to be a writer—something that gets a little farther than others can get—gets at least the edge of the shadow. [After her own moment on the edge of the shadow.] If you ever felt the shock of reality, and got that back in you—you wouldn’t be thinking of whom it would “interest”! But, Craig—this. [A movement toward the closed room.] Doesn’t this give you that shock of reality?

No. We don’t know. That’s why—oh, Craig, it would be so amazing to be a writer—something that reaches a little further than what others can achieve—gets at least close to the edge of the shadow. [After her own moment on the edge of the shadow.] If you ever felt the jolt of reality, and brought that back into you—you wouldn’t be thinking about who it would "interest"! But, Craig—this. [A movement toward the closed room.] Doesn’t this give you that jolt of reality?

[203]

Craig

What of you? Doesn’t it give it to you? You’re speaking as if this hadn’t happened! You leave it out—what Bernice did because of me. You’re talking of my having no power. What of this? Had I no power? [After her look at him.] Oh, yes—I know I used it terribly—plenty of years for my heart to break over that. But can you say I didn’t have it?

What about you? Doesn’t it affect you? You’re talking like this never happened! You’re ignoring what Bernice did because of me. You keep saying I had no power. What about this? Did I have no power? [After her look at him.] Oh, yes—I know I used it badly—lots of years for my heart to break over that. But can you really say I didn’t have it?

Margaret

I do leave it out. It isn’t right there should be anything in Bernice not Bernice. And she had a great rightness—rightness without effort—that rare, rare thing.

I leave it out. It’s not right for there to be anything in Bernice that isn’t Bernice. And she had a strong sense of what was right—rightness that came effortlessly—that rare, rare thing.

Craig

You say it isn’t right—and so you leave it out? And then you talk about the shock of reality.

You say it’s not fair—so you just ignore it? And then you mention the shock of reality.

Margaret

I don’t say it isn’t fact. I say it isn’t—in the rightness.

I’m not saying it isn’t true. I’m saying it isn’t—in the right way.

Craig

“In the rightness!” Is that for you to say? Is rightness what you think? What you can see? No. You didn’t know Bernice. You didn’t know she loved me—that way. And I didn’t know. But she did! How could I have had that—and not known? But I did have it! I did have it! You say life broke through her—the whole of life. But Bernice didn’t want—the whole of life. She wanted me. [He goes to the door, bows against it, all sorrow and need.][204] I want to talk to her—not you. I want her now—knowing.

“In the rightness!” Is that for you to decide? Is rightness what you think? What you can see? No. You didn’t know Bernice. You didn’t know she loved me—that way. And I didn’t know. But she did! How could I have had that—and not known? But I did have it! I did have it! You say life broke through her—the whole of life. But Bernice didn’t want—the whole of life. She wanted me. [He goes to the door, bows against it, all sorrow and need.][204] I want to talk to her—not you. I want her now—knowing.

[He opens that door and goes in to Bernice. Margaret stands motionless, searching, and as if something is coming to her from the rightness. When she speaks it is a denial from that inner affirmation.

[He opens that door and goes in to Bernice. Margaret stands still, looking around, and it's like something is coming to her from the clarity. When she speaks, it's a rejection of that inner certainty.]

Margaret

No! I say—No! [Feeling some one behind her, swiftly turning she sees Abbie outside, looking through the not quite drawn curtains of the door. She goes to the door and draws Abbie in.] Yes, I am here—and I say no. [She has hold of her, drawing her in as she says it.] You understand—I say no. I don’t believe it. What you told me—I don’t believe it.

No! I’m saying—No! [Feeling someone behind her, she quickly turns and sees Abbie outside, looking through the partially drawn curtains of the door. She goes to the door and pulls Abbie inside.] Yes, I am here—and I say no. [She has a hold of her, pulling her in as she says this.] You understand—I say no. I don’t believe it. What you told me—I don’t believe it.

Abbie

[At first it is horror—then strange relief, as if nothing could be so bad as this has been.] Well, I’m glad you know.

[At first it feels like horror—then there's this odd relief, as if nothing could be worse than what has just happened.] Well, I’m glad you know.

Margaret

[Very slowly, knowing now it is fact she has come to.] Glad I know what?

[Very slowly, realizing now that this is a fact she's come to.] Glad I know what?

Abbie

That it isn’t true. That she didn’t do it.

That it's not true. That she didn't do it.

Margaret

Didn’t do it? Did not take her own life?

Didn’t do it? Did not end her own life?

Abbie

No. Of course she didn’t.

No. Of course she didn't.

[205]

Margaret

[Still very slowly, as if much more is coming than she can take in.] Then why—did you say she did?

[Still very slowly, as if there's a lot more coming than she can handle.] Then why—did you say she did?

Abbie

Because she said I must. Oh—look at me! Look at me! But you knew her. You know the strength of her. If she’d told you the way she told me—you’d have done it too. You would!

Because she said I had to. Oh—look at me! Look at me! But you knew her. You know her strength. If she’d told you the way she told me—you’d have done it too. You would!

Margaret

[Saying each word by itself.] I can not understand one word you’re saying. Something is wrong with you. [Changing, and roughly taking hold of Abbie.] Tell me. Quick, the truth.

[Saying each word by itself.] I can't understand a single word you're saying. Something's off with you. [Changing, and roughly grabbing Abbie.] Tell me. Quickly, the truth.

Abbie

Wednesday night, about eight o’clock, about an hour after she told me to telegraph you, she said, “Why, Abbie, I believe I’m going to die.” I said no, but she said, “I think so.” I said we’d send for Mr. Norris. She said no, and not to frighten her father. I—I didn’t think she was going to die. All the time I was trying to get the doctor. There were two hours when she was—quiet. Quiet—not like any quiet I ever knew. Thinking. You could see thinking in her eyes—stronger than sickness. Then, after ten, she called me to her. She took my hands. She said, “Abbie, you’ve lived with me all my life.” “Yes,” I said. “You love me.” “Oh, yes,” I said. “Will you do something for me?” “You know I will,” I told her. “Abbie,” she said, looking right at me, all of her looking right at me, “if I die, I want you to tell my[206] husband I killed myself.” [Margaret falls back.] Yes, I did that too. Then I thought it was her mind. But I looked at her, and oh, her mind was there! It was terrible—how it was all there. She said—and then she [The sobs she has been holding back almost keep Abbie from saying this]—held out her hands to me—“Oh, Abbie, do this last thing for me! After all there has been, I have a right to do it. If my life is going—let me have this much from it!” And as still I couldn’t—couldn’t—the tears ran down her face and she said, “I want to rest before pain comes again. Promise me so I can rest.” And I promised. And you would have too!

Wednesday night, around eight o’clock, about an hour after she told me to wire you, she said, “Why, Abbie, I think I’m going to die.” I said no, but she insisted, “I think so.” I suggested we call Mr. Norris. She refused and asked me not to frighten her father. I—I didn’t believe she was going to die. The whole time, I was trying to reach the doctor. There were two hours when she was—quiet. Quiet—not like any quiet I had ever experienced. Thinking. You could see the thought in her eyes—stronger than the sickness. Then, after ten, she called me over. She took my hands and said, “Abbie, you’ve been with me my whole life.” “Yes,” I replied. “You love me.” “Oh, yes,” I said. “Will you do something for me?” “You know I will,” I assured her. “Abbie,” she said, looking directly at me, all of her focused on me, “if I die, I want you to tell my[206] husband I killed myself.” [Margaret falls back.] Yes, I did that too. Then I wondered if it was her mind. But I looked at her, and oh, her mind was intact! It was terrifying—how it was all there. She said—and then she [The sobs she has been holding back almost keep Abby from saying this]—held out her hands to me—“Oh, Abbie, do this last thing for me! After everything that’s happened, I have a right to do it. If my life is ending—let me have this much from it!” And even when I couldn’t—couldn’t—the tears streamed down her face, and she said, “I want to rest before the pain comes back. Promise me so I can rest.” And I promised. And you would have too!

Margaret

You don’t know what you’re telling me! You don’t know what you’re doing. You do this now—after she can do nothing? [Holding out her hands.] Abbie! Tell me it isn’t true!

You don’t know what you’re talking about! You have no idea what you’re doing. You decide to do this now—after she can't do anything? [Holding out her hands.] Abbie! Please tell me it isn’t true!

Abbie

It’s true.

It's true.

Margaret

You are telling me her life was hate? [Stops, half turns to the room where Craig is with Bernice.] You are telling me she covered hate with—with the beauty that was like nothing else? Abbie! You are telling me that as Bernice left life she held out her hands and asked you to take this back for her?

You’re telling me her life was hate? [Stops, half turns to the room where Craig is with Bernice.] You’re saying she hid her hate with—with a beauty that was unmatched? Abbie! You are telling me that as Bernice was leaving this life, she held out her hands and asked you to take this back for her?

Abbie

There are things we can’t understand. There’s no use trying.

There are things we can't understand. There's no point in trying.

[207]

[She turns to go.

She walks away.

Margaret

You can’t leave me like this!

You can’t just leave me like this!

Abbie

[More gently.] You shouldn’t have tried to know. But—if you have got to know things—you have got to take them.

[More gently.] You shouldn't have tried to learn. But—if you really need to know things—you have to accept them.

[Craig comes out; Abbie goes.

Craig exits; Abbie leaves.

Craig

Go in there, Margaret. There’s something wonderful there.

Go in there, Margaret. There’s something amazing in there.

Margaret

[Turned from him, her face buried in her hands.] Oh no—no—no. I can never go in there. I—I never was—in there.

[Turned away from him, her face buried in her hands.] Oh no—no—no. I can never go in there. I—I never was—in there.

[Her other words are lost in wild sobbing. He stands regarding her in wonder, but not losing what he himself has found.

[Her other words are drowned out by her sobs. He watches her in amazement, but he doesn't forget what he has discovered.]

(Curtain)

Curtains

[208]

ACT THREE

Scene: The same as in Acts One and Two; it is early afternoon of the next day; the door leading outdoors is a little open; when the curtain is drawn Craig is seen outside, just passing the window, as one who is walking back and forth in thinking. In the room are Laura and the Father—the Father sitting at the table by the stairs—Laura, standing, watches Craig pass the door; she has in her hand a paper on which are some memoranda. After watching Craig she sighs, looks at her notes, sits down.

Scene: The same as in Acts One and Two; it's early afternoon the next day; the door leading outside is slightly open; when the curtain is drawn, Craig is seen outside, pacing back and forth as he thinks. Inside the room are Laura and the Dad—the Dad is sitting at the table by the stairs—Laura, standing, watches Craig pass the door; she holds a paper with some notes on it. After observing Craig, she sighs, looks at her notes, and sits down.

Laura

I’m sorry to be troubling you, Mr. Allen. Certainly you should not be asked to discuss these matters about—arrangements. But really, you and I seem the only people who are capable of going on with things. I must say, I don’t know what to make of everyone else. They all seem to be trying to—keep away from one. I think that’s a little unnecessary. Of course I know what grief does, and I’m sure I have every consideration for that, but really—I’m sorry Craig keeps his own sister out. When I’m here to help him. And Abbie—why she seems to have lost her head. Just when it’s so important that she look after things. And as to Margaret Pierce—she certainly is worse than useless. I don’t see what she came for if she didn’t want to be helpful.

I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Allen. You shouldn’t have to talk about these arrangements. But honestly, it seems like you and I are the only ones who can actually get things done. I really don’t know what to make of everyone else. They all seem to be trying to stay away from each other. I think that’s a bit unnecessary. I understand how grief affects people, and I fully respect that, but I can’t help but feel sorry that Craig is keeping his own sister out. I’m here to help him. And Abbie—she really seems to have lost her mind, especially when it’s so crucial for her to manage things. As for Margaret Pierce—she’s definitely more of a hindrance than a help. I don’t understand why she came if she didn’t want to contribute.

[209]

Father

Dad

Margaret and Bernice were very dear friends, Laura.

Margaret and Bernice were very close friends, Laura.

Laura

Is that any reason for not being helpful in Bernice’s household at a time like this? Really I do like control. [After looking at her notes.] Then the minister will come here at three, Mr. Allen. Why that will be little more than an hour! Think of things having been neglected like this! [As Craig, having turned in his walk, is again passing the door.] Craig! [He steps to the door.] The minister, Mr. Howe, will come here, Craig, at three.

Is there any reason not to help out in Bernice’s household at a time like this? Honestly, I do like to be in charge. [After checking her notes.] The minister will be here at three, Mr. Allen. That’s just a little over an hour! Can you believe things have been left like this? [As Craig, having turned during his walk, is passing the door again.] Craig! [He moves to the door.] The minister, Mr. Howe, will come here, Craig, at three.

Craig

What for?

Why?

Laura

Craig! What for?

Craig! What’s that about?

Craig

I don’t see why he comes here. Why Bernice scarcely knew him. [To her father.] Did Bernice know him?

I don’t understand why he comes here. Bernice barely knew him. [To her dad.] Did Bernice even know him?

Father

Dad

Well, I don’t know whether she knew him, but—

Well, I’m not sure if she knew him, but—

Laura

It is not a personal matter, Craig.

It's not personal, Craig.

Craig

I think it is. Very personal.

[210]

Laura

You mean to say you are not going to have any service?

You’re saying you’re not going to have any service?

Craig

I haven’t thought anything about it. Oh, Laura! How can I think of such things now?

I haven't thought about it at all. Oh, Laura! How can I think about things like that now?

Laura

Well, I will think of them for you, dear.

Craig

Don’t bring him here. He can go—[Stops] there, if he wants to. Where—we have to go. Not here. In her own house. The very last thing.

Father

Dad

I’m afraid it will seem strange, Craig.

I’m afraid it might come off as weird, Craig.

Craig

Strange? Do I care if it seems strange? Bernice seemed strange too. But she wasn’t strange. She was wonderful. [Putting out his hand impatiently.] Oh, no, Laura. There’s so much else to think of—now.

Strange? Do I care if it seems weird? Bernice seemed off too. But she wasn’t weird. She was amazing. [Putting out his hand impatiently.] Oh, no, Laura. There’s so much more to think about—right now.

[He steps out of the door and stands there, his back to the room.

[He walks out of the door and stands there, facing away from the room.

Father

Dad

[In a low voice.] I wonder—could we go somewhere else? Into my room, perhaps. I’m afraid we are keeping Craig out of here. And I think he wants[211] to be here—near Bernice. We will be undisturbed in my room.

[In a low voice.] I wonder—can we go somewhere else? Maybe to my room. I’m worried we’re keeping Craig out of here. And I think he wants[211] to be here—close to Bernice. We’ll be undisturbed in my room.

[He gets up and goes to the door of his room, Laura turns to follow. Outside Craig passes from sight.

[He stands up and walks to the door of his room, Laura turns to follow. Outside, Craig disappears from view.]

Laura

I think it’s too bad things have to be made so—complicated.

I think it's too bad that things have to be so complicated.

Father

Dad

[After opening the door.] Oh, Margaret is in here.

Margaret

[From the other room.] I was just going out. I just came in here to—[Enters.] I just went in there—I didn’t think about it being your room.

[From the other room.] I was just about to head out. I only came in here to—[Enters.] I just walked in there—I didn’t realize it was your room.

Father

Dad

Why that was quite all right, Margaret. I’m only sorry to disturb you.

Why, that's totally fine, Margaret. I'm just sorry to bother you.

Margaret

No. That doesn’t matter. I—wasn’t doing anything.

Laura

There is a great deal to do.

There's a lot to do.

[212]

[She follows the Father into his room. Margaret walks across the room, walks back, stands still, head bent, hands pressing her temples. Abbie comes part way down the stairs, sees Margaret, stands still as if not to be heard, turns to go back upstairs.

[She follows the Dad into his room. Margaret crosses the room, walks back, and stands still, her head down, hands pressing against her temples. Abbie comes part way down the stairs, sees Margaret, pauses as if trying not to be noticed, and then turns to head back upstairs.]

Margaret

[Hearing her, looking up.] Abbie! [Abbie comes slowly down.] Where is he, Mr. Norris? Where is he?

Abbie

I don’t know. He was here a little while ago. Perhaps he went out.

I don’t know. He was here a bit ago. Maybe he went out.

[Indicating the open door.

Indicating the open door.

Margaret

I have to tell him!

I need to tell him!

Abbie

[After an incredulous moment.] Tell him what you made me tell you?

[After an incredulous moment.] Tell him what you made me say?

Margaret

Of course I have to tell him! You think I can leave that on him? And the things I said to him—they were not just.

Of course I have to tell him! You think I can just leave that hanging over him? And the things I said to him—they weren’t fair.

Abbie

And you’d rather be “just” than leave it as she wanted it?

And you'd prefer to be "just" instead of leaving it the way she wanted?

Margaret

Oh, but Abbie—what she wanted—[Holds up her hand as if to shut something from her eyes.] No. You can’t put that on anyone. I couldn’t live—feeling I had left on him what shouldn’t be there.

Oh, but Abbie—what she wanted—[Holds up her hand as if to shut something from her eyes.] No. You can’t put that on anyone. I couldn’t live—feeling I had left something on him that shouldn’t be there.

Abbie

But you wouldn’t tell him now?

But you wouldn’t tell him now?

[213]

Margaret

I must tell him now. Or I won’t tell him. And I must go away. I can’t stay. I can’t stay here.

I have to tell him now. Or I won’t tell him at all. And I need to leave. I can’t stay. I can’t stay here.

Abbie

But what will they think—your leaving? You mean—before we’ve taken her away?

But what will they think—if you leave? You mean—before we’ve taken her away?

Margaret

Oh, I don’t know. How can I—plan it out? I’m going as soon as I can tell him. All night—all day—I’ve been trying to tell him—and when I get near him—I run away. Why did you tell me?

Oh, I don’t know. How can I—plan it out? I’m going to go as soon as I can tell him. All night—all day—I’ve been trying to tell him—and when I get close to him—I run away. Why did you tell me?

Abbie

[Harshly.] Why did you know—what you weren’t to know? But if you have some way of knowing what you aren’t told—you think you have the right to do your thing with that? Undo what she did? What I did? Do you know what it took out of me to do this? There’s nothing left of me.

[Harshly.] Why did you know—what you weren’t supposed to know? But if you have some way of knowing what you aren’t told—you think you have the right to do your own thing with that? Undo what she did? What I did? Do you know how much it took out of me to do this? There’s nothing left of me.

Margaret

[With a laugh. Right on the verge of being not herself.] No. You’re a wreck. Another wreck. It’s your Darwinian theory. Your free speech.

[With a laugh. Right on the verge of not being herself.] No. You’re a mess. Another mess. It’s your Darwinian theory. Your free speech.

Abbie

Oh, I was afraid of you. I didn’t want you to come. I knew you’d—get to things.

Oh, I was scared of you. I didn’t want you to come. I knew you’d—get to things.

[214]

[Abbie goes to the door and looks out.

Abbie walks to the door and peeks outside.

Margaret

He is out there?

Is he out there?

Abbie

Yes.

[Margaret tries to go; moves just a little.] And you’d go to him and—what for?

[Margaret tries to leave; shifts a bit.] And you would approach him and—what for?

Margaret

Because I can’t live—leaving that on him—having him think—when I know he didn’t. I can’t leave that on him one more hour.

Because I can't live—leaving that on him—having him think—when I know he didn't. I can't leave that on him one more hour.

Abbie

[Standing in the door to block her going.] And when you take that from him—what do you give to him?

[Standing in the doorway to block her from leaving.] And when you take that from him—what do you give him in return?

[They stare at one another; Margaret falls back.

[They look at each other; Margaret steps back.

Margaret

Don’t ask me to see so many things, Abbie. I can only see this thing. I’ve grown afraid of seeing.

Don’t ask me to look at so many things, Abbie. I can only focus on this one. I've become afraid of seeing.

Abbie

[After looking at her, seeing something of her suffering.] Miss Margaret, why did you do what you did last night? How did you know?

Margaret

I don’t know.

I have no idea.

Abbie

But you knew.

But you knew it.

[215]

Margaret

No. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It didn’t come from me. It came—from the rightness.

No. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It didn’t come from me. It came—from what felt right.

[A laugh.

A laugh.

Abbie

If you could get that without being told—why don’t you get more without being told? [Margaret gives her a startled look.] For you will never be told.

If you can figure that out without being told—why don't you figure out more without being told? [Margaret looks at her in shock.] Because you will never be told.

Margaret

You know more?

Abbie

No. My knowing stops with what you got from me last night. But I knew her. I thought maybe, as you have some way of knowing what you aren’t told, you could—see into this. See.

No. What I know stops with what you got from me last night. But I knew her. I thought maybe, since you have some way of knowing things that aren’t directly told to you, you could—see into this. See.

Margaret

I’ve lost my seeing. It was through her I saw. It was through Bernice I could see. And now it’s dark. [Slowly turning toward the closed room.] Oh, how still death is.

I’ve lost my vision. It was through her that I could see. It was through Bernice that I was able to see. And now it’s dark. [Slowly turning toward the closed room.] Oh, how still death is.

[The two women are as if caught into this stillness.

[The two women seem frozen in this calm.]

Abbie

[Looking from the door.] He turned this way. [Swiftly turning back to Margaret.] But you couldn’t tell him.

Margaret

No, I can’t. Yes, I must! I tell you there’s something in me can’t stand it to see any one go down under[216] a thing he shouldn’t have to bear. Why that feeling has made my life! Do you think I’ve wanted to do the kind of work I do? Don’t you think I’d like to be doing—happier things? But there’s something in my blood drives me to—what’s right.

No, I can’t. Yes, I must! I tell you, there’s something in me that can’t stand seeing anyone go down under[216] something they shouldn’t have to deal with. That feeling has shaped my life! Do you think I’ve wanted to do the kind of work I do? Don’t you think I’d rather be doing—happier things? But there’s something in my blood that drives me to—what’s right.

Abbie

And something in my blood drives me to what’s right! And I went against it—went against my whole life—so she could rest. I did it because I loved her. But you didn’t love her.

And something in my blood pushes me towards what’s right! And I went against it—went against my entire life—so she could find peace. I did it because I loved her. But you didn’t love her.

Margaret

Oh—Abbie!

Abbie

Not as you love—what’s right. If you loved her, don’t you want to protect her—now that she lies dead in there? [Her voice breaking.] Oh, Miss Margaret, it was right at the very end of her life. Maybe when we’re going to die things we’ve borne all our lives are things we can’t bear any longer. Just—don’t count that last hour.

Not as you love—what’s right. If you loved her, don’t you want to protect her—now that she lies dead in there? [Her voice breaking.] Oh, Miss Margaret, it was right at the very end of her life. Maybe when we're about to die, things we’ve carried all our lives are things we just can’t handle anymore. Just—don’t count that last hour.

Margaret

[After a moment of being swayed by this.] Yet you counted it, Abbie. You did what she said—because of the strength of her. You told me last night—her mind was there. Terrible the way it was right there. She hadn’t left her life.

[After a moment of being swayed by this.] Yet you acknowledged it, Abbie. You followed her instructions—because of her strength. You mentioned last night—her mind was present. It was disturbing how it was right there. She hadn’t left her life.

Abbie

Well, and if she hadn’t left her life! If all those years with him there was something she hid, and if[217] she seemed to feel—what she didn’t feel. She did it well, didn’t she?—and almost to the last. Shan’t we hide it now? For her? You and me, who loved her—isn’t she safe—with us? [Going nearer Margaret.] Perhaps if you would go in there now—

Well, what if she hadn't left her life behind? What if, during all those years with him, there was something she was hiding, and if[217] she seemed to feel things—when she really didn't? She was good at it, wasn't she?—right up until the end. Shouldn't we keep it hidden now? For her? You and I, who loved her—she's safe—with us, isn't she? [Going nearer Margaret.] Maybe if you went in there now—

Margaret

Oh no—no.

Abbie

[In a last deeply emotional appeal.] Miss Margaret, didn’t she do a good deal for you?

[In a last deeply emotional appeal.] Miss Margaret, didn’t she do a lot for you?

Margaret

Do a good deal for me? Yes. Yes!

Can you do me a favor? Yes. Yes!

Abbie

Yes. She did for me. I—I’m something more on account of her. Aren’t you?

Yes. She did for me. I—I’m something more because of her. Aren’t you?

Margaret

Yes.

Abbie

Yes, I think you are too. I can see myself as I’d have been if my life hadn’t been lived round her. [Thinks, shakes her head.] It would be left you—what feels and knows it feels. And you said it was through Bernice you could see. Well, lets forget what we don’t want to know! On account of what we are that we wouldn’t have been—lets put it out of our minds! One ugly thing in a whole beautiful life! Let it go! And let all the rest live! [They can see Craig outside.] Oh—do this for her. Make yourself do[218] it. Let that be what’s dead—and let all the rest live! You were her friend not his.

Yes, I think you are too. I can picture myself as I would have been if my life hadn’t revolved around her. [Thinks, shakes her head.] It would be left to you—what feels and knows it feels. And you said it was through Bernice that you could see. Well, let’s forget what we don’t want to know! Because of who we are that we wouldn’t have been—let’s push it out of our minds! One ugly thing in a whole beautiful life! Let it go! And let everything else live! [They can see Craig outside.] Oh—do this for her. Make yourself do[218] it. Let that be what’s dead—and let everything else live! You were her friend, not his.

[Craig turns to the house, but when about to come in, turns away, covering his face.

[Craig faces the house, but just as he’s about to go inside, he turns away, hiding his face.]

Margaret

[Taking hold of Abbie.] You see? He thinks she loved him and he killed her. He might do what he thinks she did!

[Taking hold of Abbie.] You see? He believes she loved him, and he killed her. He could do what he thinks she did!

Abbie

[Falling back.] O-h.

[Taking a step back.] Oh.

[219]

[Craig comes in, stands by the door; Margaret has drawn Abbie over near the stairway. He sees them, but gives no heed to them, immersed in what he is living through. While he stands there Margaret does not move. He turns toward the room where Bernice is; when he moves Margaret goes a little toward him—his back is to her; Abbie moves to step between Craig and Margaret; Margaret puts her aside. But when Craig comes to the closed door, and stands there an instant before it, not opening it, Margaret too stops, as if she cannot come nearer him. It is only after he has opened the door and closed it behind him that she goes to it. She puts out her hands, but she does not even touch the door and when she cannot do this she covers her face and, head bent, stands there before the closed door. Laura and the Father come out from the room where they have been. As they enter Abbie slowly goes out, toward the kitchen.

[Craig comes in and stands by the door; Margaret has pulled Abbie over near the stairs. He sees them, but doesn’t pay attention, lost in his own thoughts. While he stands there, Margaret doesn’t move. He turns toward the room where Bernice is; when he moves, Margaret steps a little closer to him—his back is to her; Abbie tries to position herself between Craig and Margaret; Margaret pushes her aside. But when Craig reaches the closed door and pauses for a moment, not opening it, Margaret also stops, as if she can’t get closer to him. It’s only after he opens the door and closes it behind him that she approaches it. She reaches out her hands, but doesn’t even touch the door, and when she can't do that, she covers her face and, head down, stands there in front of the closed door. Laura and the Dad come out from the room where they’ve been. As they enter, Abbie slowly exits, heading toward the kitchen.]

Laura

[After looking at Margaret, who has not moved.] We are going in an hour, Margaret.

[After looking at Margaret, who has not moved.] We’re leaving in an hour, Margaret.

Margaret

Going?

Leaving?

Laura

Taking Bernice to the cemetery.

Margaret

Oh. Are we?

Oh. Are we really?

[After a look which shows her disapproval Laura goes out, following Abbie.

[After giving a disapproving glance, Laura leaves, trailing Abbie.]

Father

Dad

[Sitting.] I can’t believe that, Margaret.

[Sitting.] I can't believe that, Margaret.

Margaret

No. [Margaret sits in the window seat, by which she has been standing. As if she is just realizing what they have said.] You say—we are taking Bernice away from here—in an hour?

No. [Margaret sits in the window seat, by which she has been standing. As if she is just realizing what they have said.] You say—we're taking Bernice away from here—in an hour?

Father

Dad

Yes. Think of it, Margaret. I just can’t—take it in.

Yes. Think about it, Margaret. I just can’t—process it.

[220]

Margaret

No.

Father

Dad

There is something I want to tell you, Margaret. [Margaret gives him a quick look, then turns away, as if afraid.] I’ve been wanting to tell you—but it’s hard to talk of such things. But before we—take Bernice away, before you—see her the last time—I want you to know. That night—the night Bernice died—at the very last, Abbie was afraid then—and had called to me. Abbie and I were in there and—Abbie went out, about the telephone call we had in for the doctor. I was all alone in there a few minutes—right at the last. Bernice said one last word, Margaret. Your name.

There's something I need to tell you, Margaret. [Margaret gives him a quick glance, then looks away, as if she's scared.] I've been wanting to share this with you—but it's tough to talk about. Before we—take Bernice away, before you—see her one last time—I want you to know. That night—the night Bernice passed away—at the very end, Abbie was scared and had called out to me. Abbie and I were in there, and—Abbie left, about the call we made to the doctor. I was alone in there for a few minutes—right at the end. Bernice said one last word, Margaret. Your name.

Margaret

She called to me?

Did she call out to me?

Father

Dad

No, I wouldn’t say she called to you. Just said your name. The way we say things to ourselves—say them without knowing we were going to say them. She didn’t really say it. She breathed it. It seemed to come from her whole life.

No, I wouldn’t say she called out to you. She just said your name. It's like how we talk to ourselves—saying things without even realizing we were going to say them. She didn’t really say it; she breathed it. It felt like it came from her entire life.

Margaret

O-h. Then it wasn’t as if she had left me? It wasn’t as if anything was in between—

O-h. So she didn't actually leave me? It wasn't like there was anything in between—

Father

Dad

Why no, Margaret. What an idea. Why I don’t think you ever were as close to Bernice as when she said your name and died.

Why no, Margaret. What a thought. I don’t think you were ever as close to Bernice as when she said your name and died.

[221]

[Margaret’s head goes down; she is crying. Craig comes out, carefully closing the door behind him. Partly crosses the room, looks uncertainly at the outer door as if to go outside again.

[Margaret’s head drops; she is crying. Craig steps outside, carefully closing the door behind him. He crosses part of the room, glancing uncertainly at the outer door as if he’s considering going outside again.]

Father

Dad

Sit down, Craig. [Craig does this.] Let’s not try to keep away from each other now. We’re all going through the same thing—in our—our different ways. [A pause. Margaret raises her head; she is turned a little away from the other two.] I was so glad when you came, Margaret. I don’t want Bernice to slip away from us. In an hour we—take her away from here—out of this house she loved. I don’t want her to slip away from us. She loved you so, Margaret. Didn’t she, Craig?

Sit down, Craig. [Craig does this.] Let’s not try to avoid each other now. We’re all dealing with the same situation—in our own—different ways. [A pause. Margaret raises her head; she is turned a little away from the other two.] I was so happy when you arrived, Margaret. I don’t want Bernice to drift away from us. In an hour we—are taking her away from here—out of this house she loved. I don’t want her to drift away from us. She cared for you so much, Margaret. Didn’t she, Craig?

Craig

Yes. She did love Margaret.

Yes. She loved Margaret.

Father

Dad

Oh, yes. “Margaret sees things,” she’d say. [Wistfully.] She had great beauty—didn’t she, Margaret?

Oh, yes. “Margaret sees things,” she’d say. [Wistfully.] She was incredibly beautiful—didn’t she, Margaret?

Margaret

I always thought so.

I always believed that.

Father

Dad

Oh, yes. I was thinking last night—malice was not in Bernice. I never knew her to do a—really unfriendly thing to any one. [Again in that wistful way.] You know, Margaret, I had thought you would[222] say things like this—and better than I can say them, to—to keep my little girl for us all. I suppose I’m a foolish old man but I seem to want them said. [Pause. Margaret seems to try to speak, but does not.] I think it was gentle of Bernice to be amused by things she—perhaps couldn’t admire in us she loved. Me. I suppose she might have liked a father who amounted to more—but she always seemed to take pleasure in me. Affectionate amusement. Didn’t you feel that in Bernice, Craig?

Oh, yes. I was thinking last night—Bernice wasn’t malicious. I never saw her do anything truly unfriendly to anyone. [Again in that wistful way.] You know, Margaret, I thought you would[222] express thoughts like this—and better than I can—to—to cherish my little girl for all of us. I guess I’m just a silly old man, but I really want to hear these things. [Pause. Margaret seems to try to speak, but doesn’t.] I think it was kind of Bernice to find humor in things she—maybe couldn’t admire in us she loved. Me. I think she might have preferred a father who was more accomplished—but she always seemed to enjoy my company. Affectionate amusement. Didn’t you feel that in Bernice, Craig?

Craig

Yes—that was one thing. A surface for other things. [He speaks out of pain, but out of pain which wants, if it can, to speak.] But only a surface. [With passion.] All of Bernice went into her love for me. Those big impersonal things—they were not apart. All of Bernice—loved me. [His voice breaks, he goes to the door, starts out. Suddenly steps back—with a quick rough turn to her.] Isn’t that so, Margaret?

Yes—that was one thing. A surface for other things. [He speaks out of pain, but it’s a pain that wants, if it can, to express itself.] But just a surface. [With passion.] All of Bernice went into her love for me. Those huge impersonal things—they weren't separate. All of Bernice—loved me. [His voice breaks, he goes to the door, starts to leave. Suddenly he steps back—with a quick, rough turn to her.] Isn’t that right, Margaret?

Margaret

I can see—what you mean, Craig.

I get what you mean, Craig.

Father

Dad

Why of course Bernice loved you. I know that.

[Craig goes outside.

Craig steps outside.

[Looking after him.] I hope I didn’t send Craig away. You and he would rather not talk. Perhaps that is better. I seem to want to—gather up things that will keep Bernice. It’s so easy for the dead to slip from us. But I mustn’t bother you.

[Looking after him.] I hope I didn’t push Craig away. You and he probably prefer not to talk. Maybe that's for the best. I tend to—want to collect memories that will preserve Bernice. It’s so easy for those who have passed to fade from our minds. But I shouldn’t trouble you.

[223]

Margaret

Oh, you aren’t! I—I’m sorry I’m not—doing more. I’m pulled down.

Oh, you aren't! I—I'm sorry I'm not—doing more. I'm feeling overwhelmed.

Father

Dad

I know, Margaret. I can see that. Another time you and I will talk of Bernice. I didn’t mean she didn’t love Craig. Of course not. Only [Hesitatingly] I did feel that much as went into her loving—there was more than went into her loving.

I understand, Margaret. I can see that. Another time, you and I will talk about Bernice. I didn’t mean to say that she didn’t love Craig. Of course not. But [Hesitatingly] I felt that although a lot went into her love—there was even more that went into it.

Margaret

Yes.

Father

Dad

I think it wasn’t that she—wanted it that way. You know, Margaret, I felt something—very wistful in Bernice. [Margaret looks at him, nods.] In this calm now—I feel the wistfulness there was in her other calm.

I don’t think she really wanted it that way. You know, Margaret, I sensed something very nostalgic in Bernice. [Margaret looks at him, nods.] In this peaceful moment, I can feel the nostalgia that was in her other moments of calm.

Margaret

Yes.

Father

Dad

As if she wanted to give us more. Oh—she gave more than any one else could have given. But not all she was. And she would like to have given us—all she was. She wanted to give—what couldn’t be given. [Pause.] You know what I mean, Margaret?

As if she wanted to give us more. Oh—she gave more than anyone else could have. But not everything she was. And she would have liked to give us—all she was. She wanted to give—what couldn’t be given. [Pause.] You know what I mean, Margaret?

Margaret

Yes, I do know.

Yeah, I know.

Father

Dad

And so—wistfulness. I see it now. [After thinking.] I think Bernice feared she was not a very good[224] wife for Craig. [Margaret gives him a startled look.] Little things she’d say. I don’t know—perhaps I’m wrong. [After a move of Margaret’s.] You were going to say something, Margaret.

And so—nostalgia. I see it now. [After thinking.] I think Bernice was worried that she wasn’t a very good[224] wife for Craig. [Margaret gives him a surprised look.] The little things she’d say. I don’t know—maybe I’m wrong. [After a move of Margaret’s.] You were going to say something, Margaret.

Margaret

No. I was just thinking of what you said.

No. I was just thinking about what you said.

Father

Dad

Craig didn’t dominate Bernice. I don’t know whose fault it was. I don’t know that it was anyone’s fault. Just the way things were. He—I say it in all kindness, he just didn’t—have it in him. [Slowly.] As I haven’t had certain things in me.

Craig didn’t overshadow Bernice. I can’t say whose fault that was. I’m not even sure it was anyone’s fault. It was just how things were. He—I mean this with all due respect—just didn’t—have that spark. [Slowly.] Just like I haven’t had certain qualities in me.

[Abbie comes in.

Abbie enters.

Abbie

People are coming. The Aldrichs—other neighbors.

People are arriving. The Aldrichs—other neighbors.

Father

Dad

Oh—they are coming? [With pain.] Already? Oh. They are to wait in the south room—till a little later. I’ll speak to them.

Oh—they're coming? [With pain.] Already? Oh. They need to wait in the south room—until a little later. I’ll talk to them.

[They go out; Margaret has a moment alone. Then Craig comes in from outside.

[They leave; Margaret has a moment to herself. Then Craig comes in from outside.

Craig

People are beginning to come. I suppose they’ll come in here soon. I—I don’t want them to.

People are starting to arrive. I guess they'll be in here soon. I—I really don’t want them to.

[Laura enters with boxes of flowers.

[Laura enters with flower boxes.

Oh—Laura, please. Bernice loved flowers.

Oh—Laura, please. Bernice loved flowers.

[225]

Laura

Well—Craig.

Craig

Would you take them around the other way? Or keep them till later—or something. I don’t want them here!

Would you take them the long way around? Or hold onto them for later—or something. I don’t want them here!

[Laura goes out.

Laura is going out.

Craig

I don’t want things to be different. Not now—in the last hour. It’s still Bernice’s house. [After watching her a moment.] Margaret, I’m afraid I shouldn’t have told you. It’s doing too much to you. Surely—no matter what you feel about me—this—what I told you—isn’t going to keep you away from Bernice?

I don’t want things to change. Not now—in this last hour. It’s still Bernice’s house. [After watching her for a moment.] Margaret, I’m worried I shouldn’t have told you. It’s too much for you. Surely—no matter how you feel about me—this—what I told you—isn’t going to keep you away from Bernice?

Margaret

No, Craig. What you told me—isn’t going to do that.

No, Craig. What you told me isn’t going to work.

Craig

I shouldn’t have told you. But there are things—too much to be alone with. And yet—we are alone with them. [He is seated, looking out toward the woods. Very slowly—with deep feeling.] It is a different world. Life will never be—that old thing again.

I shouldn’t have told you. But there are things—too much to keep to myself. And yet—we are stuck with them. [He is sitting, looking out at the woods. Very slowly—with deep emotion.] It’s a different world. Life will never be—that same old thing again.

Margaret

[Rising.] Craig! [He looks at her.] Craig, I must tell you—

[Rising.] Craig! [He looks at her.] Craig, I need to tell you—

[She does not go on.

She isn't continuing.

Craig

[After waiting an instant, looks away.] I know.[226] We can’t say things. When we get right to life—we can’t say things.

[After waiting a moment, looks away.] I understand.[226] We can't express ourselves. When it comes to real life—we can't express ourselves.

Margaret

But I must say them. I have to tell you—life need not be a different thing.

But I have to say this. I need to tell you—life doesn't have to be something else.

Craig

Need not? You think I want that old thing back? Pretending. Fumbling. Always trying to seem something—to feel myself something. No. That’s a strange thing for you to say, Margaret—that I can go back to my make-believe, now that I’ve got to life. This—[As if he cannot speak of it] this—even more than it makes me want to die it makes me want to—Oh, Margaret, if I could have Bernice now—knowing. And yet—I never had her until now. This—has given Bernice to me.

Need not? You think I want that old thing back? Pretending. Fumbling. Always trying to seem like something—to feel like something. No. That’s a strange thing for you to say, Margaret—that I can go back to my make-believe, now that I’ve got to live. This—[As if he cannot speak of it] this—even more than it makes me want to die, it makes me want to—Oh, Margaret, if I could have Bernice now—knowing. And yet—I never had her until now. This—has given Bernice to me.

Margaret

[As if his words are a light she is almost afraid to use.] This—has given Bernice to you?

[As if his words are a light she is almost afraid to use.] This—has Bernice given to you?

Craig

I was thinking—walking out there I was thinking, if I knew only—what I knew when I came here—that Bernice was dead—I wonder if I could have got past that failure.

I was thinking—walking out there I was thinking, if I had only known—what I knew when I got here—that Bernice was dead—I wonder if I could have moved beyond that failure.

Margaret

Failure, Craig?

Failing, Craig?

Craig

Of never having had her. That she had lived,[227] and loved me—loved me, you see—lived and loved me and died without my ever having had her. What would there have been to go on living for? Why should such a person go on living? Now—of course it is another world. This comes crashing through my make-believe—and Bernice’s world get to me. Don’t you see, Margaret?

Of never having had her. That she lived, [227] and loved me—loved me, you know—lived and loved me and died without my ever having had her. What would there have been to keep living for? Why should someone like that keep going? Now—of course it’s a different world. This breaks through my fantasy—and Bernice’s world affects me. Don’t you see, Margaret?

Margaret

Perhaps—I do. [She looks at the closed door; looks back to him. Waits.] O-h. [Waits again, and it grows in her.] Perhaps I do.

Perhaps—I do. [She looks at the closed door; looks back to him. Waits.] Oh. [Waits again, and it grows in her.] Maybe I do.

[Turns and very slowly goes to the closed door, opens it, goes in. At the other side of the room Abbie comes in with a floral piece.

[Turns and very slowly walks to the closed door, opens it, and walks in. On the other side of the room, Abbie enters with a floral arrangement.]

Craig

No, Abbie. I just told my sister—I don’t want this room to be different. [Looking around.] It is different. What have you done to it?

[He sees the pillow crowded in at the side of the fireplace. Restores it to its place in the window.

[He notices the pillow pushed to the side of the fireplace. He puts it back in its spot in the window.]

Abbie

And this was here.

[She returns the vase to its place.

[She puts the vase back where it belongs.]

Craig

Of course it was. But it isn’t right yet. [After considering.] Why—the tea table! [Abbie turns toward the kitchen.] What did you put it out there for? I remember now—I stumbled against it last[228] night. [They bring it in.] Why, yes, Abbie, the tea-table was always here—before the fire.

Of course it was. But it’s not right yet. [After considering.] Wait—the tea table! [Abbie turns toward the kitchen.] Why did you put it out there? I remember now—I bumped into it last[228] night. [They bring it in.] Oh yes, Abbie, the tea table was always here—before the fire.

Abbie

And—

[She hesitates, but Craig follows her eyes to the chair.

[She hesitates, but Craig looks where she's staring at the chair.

Craig

Yes. [He too hesitates; then gives the chair its old place before the table, as if awaiting the one who will come and pour tea. A moment they stand looking at it. Then Craig looks around the room.] And what if it is still wrong, Abbie?

Yes. [He also hesitates; then puts the chair back in its old spot at the table, as if he's waiting for the person who will come and pour tea. They stand there for a moment, looking at it. Then Craig scans the room.] And what if it's still not right, Abbie?

Abbie

In the fall there were always branches in that vase. [Indicating the one she has returned to its place.] The red and yellow branches from outside.

In the fall, there were always branches in that vase. [Indicating the one she has returned to its place.] The red and yellow branches from outside.

Craig

Yes.

[229]

[He goes out. With feeling which she cannot quite control Abbie does a few little things at the tea-table, relating one thing to another until it is as it used to be. Margaret comes out from the room where she has been with Bernice, leaving the door wide open behind her. With the quiet of profound wonder; in a feeling that creates the great stillness, she goes to Abbie.

[He leaves. With emotions that she can't fully control, Abbie tidies up the tea-table, connecting everything until it feels like it used to. Margaret walks out from the room where she was with Bernice, leaving the door wide open behind her. With a deep sense of wonder, creating a significant stillness, she approaches Abbie.]

Margaret

Oh—Abbie. Yes—I know now. I want you to know. Only—there are things not for words. Feeling—not for words. As a throbbing thing that flies and sings—not for the hand. [She starts to close her hand, uncloses it.] But, Abbie—there is nothing to hide. There is no shameful thing. What you saw in her eyes as she brooded over life in leaving it—what made you afraid—was her seeing—her seeing into the shadowed places of the life she was leaving. And then—a gift to the spirit. A gift sent back through the dark. Preposterous. Profound. Oh—love her Abbie! She’s worth more love than we have power to give! [Craig has come back with some branches from the trees; he stands outside the door a moment, taking out a few he does not want. Margaret hears him and turns. Then turns back.] Power. Oh, how strange.

Oh—Abbie. Yes—I get it now. I want you to know. But—some things can’t be put into words. Feelings—can't be expressed in words. Like a vibrant thing that flies and sings—not something you can hold. [She starts to close her hand, then opens it again.] But, Abbie—there's nothing to conceal. There’s nothing shameful. What you saw in her eyes as she pondered life while choosing to leave it—what frightened you—was her perception—her ability to see into the dark corners of the life she was abandoning. And then—a gift to the spirit. A gift sent back through the darkness. Ridiculous. Deeply meaningful. Oh—love her, Abbie! She deserves more love than we can possibly give! [Craig has come back with some branches from the trees; he stands outside the door a moment, taking out a few he doesn't want. Margaret hears him and turns. Then turns back.] Power. Oh, how odd.

[Craig comes in, and Margaret and Abbie watch him as he puts the bright leaves in the vase. The Father comes in.

[Craig walks in, while Margaret and Abbie look at him as he arranges the colorful leaves in the vase. Then, the Dad enters.]

Father

Dad

The man who is in charge says we will have to be ready now to—[Seeing what has been done to the room.] Oh, you have given the room back to Bernice!

The guy in charge says we need to be ready now to—[Noticing what’s been done to the room.] Oh, you’ve returned the room to Bernice!

Margaret

Given everything back to Bernice. Bernice. Insight. The tenderness of insight. And the courage. [To the Father, and suddenly with tears in her voice.] She was wistful. And held out her hands [Doing[230] this] with gifts she was not afraid to send back. [Very simply.] She loved you, Craig.

Given everything back to Bernice. Bernice. Insight. The tenderness of insight. And the courage. [To the Dad, and suddenly with tears in her voice.] She was wistful. And held out her hands [Doing[230] this] with gifts she was not afraid to send back. [Very simply.] She loved you, Craig.

Craig

I know that, Margaret. I know now how much.

I get it, Margaret. I understand now just how much.

Margaret

[Low.] And more than that. [Her voice electric.] Oh, in all the world—since first life moved—has there been any beauty like the beauty of perceiving love?... No. Not for words.

[Low.] And even more than that. [Her voice charged with energy.] Oh, in all the world—ever since life began—has there ever been any beauty as profound as realizing love?... No. Not in words.

[She closes her hand, uncloses it in a slight gesture of freeing what she would not harm.

[She closes her hand, then opens it slightly, releasing what she wouldn't hurt.]

(Curtain)

Curtain

[231]

SUPPRESSED DESIRES
A COMEDY IN TWO SCENES
(In Collaboration with George Cram Cook)
First Performed by the Provincetown Players, at the
Wharf Theatre, Provincetown, Mass.,
August, 1914

SUPPRESSED DESIRES
A Comedy in Two Acts
(In Collaboration with George Cram Cook)
First performed by the Provincetown Players at the
Wharf Theatre in Provincetown, Massachusetts,
August 1914

ORIGINAL CAST

Henrietta Brewster	Susan Glaspell
Stephen Brewster	George Cram Cook
Mabel	Mary Pyne

[233]

SUPPRESSED DESIRES

Scene I: A studio apartment in an upper story, Washington Square South. Through an immense north window in the back wall appear tree tops and the upper part of the Washington Arch. Beyond it you look up Fifth Avenue. Near the window is a big table, loaded at one end with serious-looking books and austere scientific periodicals. At the other end are architect’s drawings, blue prints, dividing compasses, square, ruler, etc. At the left is a door leading to the rest of the apartment; at the right the outer door. A breakfast table is set for three, but only two are seated at it—Henrietta and Stephen Brewster. As the curtains withdraw Steve pushes back his coffee cup and sits dejected.

Scene 1: A studio apartment on an upper floor, Washington Square South. Through a huge north window in the back wall, you can see treetops and the top part of the Washington Arch. Beyond that, you can look up Fifth Avenue. Near the window is a large table, cluttered at one end with serious-looking books and serious scientific journals. At the other end, there are architect’s drawings, blueprints, compasses, a square, a ruler, etc. On the left is a door leading to the rest of the apartment; on the right is the outer door. A breakfast table is set for three, but only two are sitting at it—Henrietta and Stephen Brewster. As the curtains draw back, Steve pushes away his coffee cup and sits there, looking dejected.

Henrietta

It isn’t the coffee, Steve dear. There’s nothing the matter with the coffee. There’s something the matter with you.

It’s not the coffee, Steve dear. There’s nothing wrong with the coffee. There’s something wrong with you.

Steve

[Doggedly.] There may be something the matter with my stomach.

[Doggedly.] There might be something wrong with my stomach.

Henrietta

[Scornfully.] Your stomach! The trouble is not with your stomach but in your subconscious mind.

[Scornfully.] Your stomach! The issue isn't with your stomach; it's in your subconscious mind.

Steve

Subconscious piffle!

Subconscious nonsense!

[234]

[Takes morning paper and tries to read.

[Takes the morning paper and tries to read.]

Henrietta

Steve, you never used to be so disagreeable. You certainly have got some sort of a complex. You’re all inhibited. You’re no longer open to new ideas. You won’t listen to a word about psychoanalysis.

Steve, you never used to be this disagreeable. You definitely have some kind of complex. You're really closed off. You're not open to new ideas anymore. You won’t hear a thing about psychoanalysis.

Steve

A word! I’ve listened to volumes!

A single word! I've heard a ton!

Henrietta

You’ve ceased to be creative in architecture—your work isn’t going well. You’re not sleeping well—

You’ve stopped being creative in architecture—your work isn’t going well. You’re not sleeping well—

Steve

How can I sleep, Henrietta, when you’re always waking me up to find out what I’m dreaming?

How can I sleep, Henrietta, when you keep waking me up to ask what I'm dreaming about?

Henrietta

But dreams are so important, Steve. If you’d tell yours to Dr. Russell he’d find out exactly what’s wrong with you.

But dreams are really important, Steve. If you shared yours with Dr. Russell, he’d figure out exactly what’s wrong with you.

Steve

There’s nothing wrong with me.

I'm fine.

Henrietta

You don’t even talk as well as you used to.

You don't even talk as well as you used to.

Steve

Talk? I can’t say a thing without you looking at me in that dark fashion you have when you’re on the trail of a complex.

Talk? I can't say anything without you giving me that intense look you get when you're obsessed with something.

[235]

Henrietta

This very irritability indicates that you’re suffering from some suppressed desire.

This irritability shows that you're dealing with some suppressed desire.

Steve

I’m suffering from a suppressed desire for a little peace.

I'm struggling with a hidden longing for some peace.

Henrietta

Dr. Russell is doing simply wonderful things with nervous cases. Won’t you go to him, Steve?

Dr. Russell is doing amazing things with people who have nerve issues. Why don't you go see him, Steve?

Steve

[Slamming down his newspaper.] No, Henrietta, I won’t!

[Slamming down his newspaper.] No, Henrietta, I’m not going to!

Henrietta

But, Stephen—!

Steve

Tst! I hear Mabel coming. Let’s not be at each other’s throats the first day of her visit.

Tst! I hear Mabel coming. Let’s not fight on the first day of her visit.

[He takes out cigarettes. Mabel comes in from door left, the side opposite Steve, so that he is facing her. She is wearing a rather fussy negligee in contrast to Henrietta, who wears “radical” clothes. Mabel is what is called plump.

[He takes out cigarettes. Mabel walks in from the left door, the side opposite from Steve, so he is facing her. She is wearing a somewhat elaborate negligee, unlike Henrietta, who is dressed in “radical” clothes. Mabel is what you'd call plump.]

Mabel

Good morning.

Good morning!

Henrietta

Oh, here you are, little sister.

Oh, there you are, little sister.

[236]

Steve

Good morning, Mabel.

[Mabel nods to him and turns, her face lighting up, to Henrietta.

Mabel nods at him and turns, her face brightening, to Henrietta.

Henrietta

[Giving Mabel a hug as she leans against her.] It’s so good to have you here. I was going to let you sleep, thinking you’d be tired after the long trip. Sit down. There’ll be fresh toast in a minute and [Rising] will you have—

[Giving Mabel a hug as she leans against her.] It’s so great to have you here. I was going to let you sleep, thinking you’d be worn out after the long trip. Sit down. There’ll be fresh toast in a minute and [Rising] do you want—

Mabel

Oh, I ought to have told you, Henrietta. Don’t get anything for me. I’m not eating breakfast.

Oh, I should have told you, Henrietta. Don’t get anything for me. I’m not having breakfast.

Henrietta

[At first in mere surprise.] Not eating breakfast?

[At first in pure surprise.] Not eating breakfast?

[She sits down, then leans toward Mabel who is seated now, and scrutinizes her.

[She sits down, then leans toward Mabel who is now seated, and examines her closely.

Steve

[Half to himself.] The psychoanalytical look!

[Half to himself.] The psychological perspective!

Henrietta

Mabel, why are you not eating breakfast?

Mabel, why aren't you having breakfast?

Mabel

[A little startled.] Why, no particular reason. I just don’t care much for breakfast, and they say it keeps down—[A hand on her hip—the gesture of one[237] who is “reducing”] that is, it’s a good thing to go without it.

[A little startled.] Well, there's no specific reason. I just don't really like breakfast, and they say skipping it—[A hand on her hip—the gesture of one[237] who is “reducing”] that is, it’s considered beneficial to skip it.

Henrietta

Don’t you sleep well? Did you sleep well last night?

Don’t you sleep well? Did you get a good night’s sleep?

Mabel

Oh, yes, I slept all right. Yes, I slept fine last night, only [Laughing] I did have the funniest dream!

Oh, yes, I slept just fine. Yes, I slept well last night, but [Laughing] I had the funniest dream!

Steve

S-h! S-t!

Shut up! Sit!

Henrietta

[Moving closer.] And what did you dream, Mabel?

[Moving closer.] So, what did you dream about, Mabel?

Steve

Look-a-here, Mabel, I feel it’s my duty to put you on. Don’t tell Henrietta your dreams. If you do she’ll find out that you have an underground desire to kill your father and marry your mother—

Look, Mabel, I feel it's my responsibility to warn you. Don’t share your dreams with Henrietta. If you do, she’ll discover that you have a hidden longing to kill your father and marry your mother—

Henrietta

Don’t be absurd, Stephen Brewster. [Sweetly to Mabel.] What was your dream, dear?

Don’t be ridiculous, Stephen Brewster. [Sweetly to Mabel.] What was your dream, honey?

Mabel

[Laughing.] Well, I dreamed I was a hen.

[Laughing.] Well, I dreamed I was a chicken.

Henrietta

A hen?

A chicken?

Mabel

Yes; and I was pushing along through a crowd as fast as I could, but being a hen I couldn’t walk very[238] fast—it was like having a tight skirt, you know; and there was some sort of creature in a blue cap—you know how mixed up dreams are—and it kept shouting after me, “Step, Hen! Step, Hen!” until I got all excited and just couldn’t move at all.

Yes; I was trying to make my way through a crowd as quickly as I could, but being a hen made it hard to walk fast—it felt like wearing a tight skirt, you know? Then, there was this creature in a blue cap—you know how dreams can be confusing—and it kept yelling at me, “Step, Hen! Step, Hen!” until I got so worked up that I couldn’t move at all.

Henrietta

[Resting chin in palm and peering.] You say you became much excited?

[Resting chin in palm and peering.] You say you got really excited?

Mabel

[Laughing.] Oh, yes; I was in a terrible state.

[Laughing.] Oh, for sure; I was in a really bad spot.

Henrietta

[Leaning back, murmurs.] This is significant.

Leaning back, whispers. This matters.

Steve

She dreams she’s a hen. She is told to step lively. She becomes violently agitated. What can it mean?

She dreams she’s a hen. She’s told to hurry up. She becomes really upset. What could it mean?

Henrietta

[Turning impatiently from him.] Mabel, do you know anything about psychoanalysis?

Mabel

[Feebly.] Oh—not much. No—I—[Brightening.] It’s something about the war, isn’t it?

[Feebly.] Oh—not much. No—I—[Brightening.] It’s something about the war, right?

Steve

Not that kind of war.

Not that type of war.

Mabel

[Abashed.] I thought it might be the name of a new explosive.

[Embarrassed.] I thought it might be the name of a new explosive.

[239]

Steve

It is.

It's.

Mabel

[Apologetically to Henrietta, who is frowning.] You see, Henrietta, I—we do not live in touch with intellectual things, as you do. Bob being a dentist—somehow our friends—

[Apologetically to Henrietta, who is frowning.] You see, Henrietta, I—we don't engage with intellectual stuff like you do. Bob is a dentist—somehow our friends—

Steve

[Softly.] Oh, to be a dentist!

[Goes to window and stands looking out.

[Walks to the window and stands looking out.]

Henrietta

Don’t you see anything more of that editorial writer—what was his name?

Don’t you know anything more about that editorial writer—what was his name?

Mabel

Lyman Eggleston?

Henrietta

Yes, Eggleston. He was in touch with things. Don’t you see him?

Yes, Eggleston. He was connected to everything. Don't you see him?

Mabel

Yes, I see him once in a while. Bob doesn’t like him very well.

Yes, I see him from time to time. Bob doesn’t really like him.

Henrietta

Your husband does not like Lyman Eggleston? [Mysteriously.] Mabel, are you perfectly happy with your husband?

Your husband doesn't like Lyman Eggleston? [Mysteriously.] Mabel, are you completely happy with your husband?

Steve

[Sharply.] Oh, come now, Henrietta—that’s going a little strong!

[Sharply.] Oh, come on, Henrietta—that’s a bit much!

[240]

Henrietta

Are you perfectly happy with him, Mabel?

Are you completely happy with him, Mabel?

[Steve goes to work-table.

Steve goes to the workspace.

Mabel

Why—yes—I guess so. Why—of course I am!

Henrietta

Are you happy? Or do you only think you are? Or do you only think you ought to be?

Are you truly happy? Or do you just think you are? Or do you just think you should be?

Mabel

Why, Henrietta, I don’t know what you mean!

Why, Henrietta, I don't understand what you're talking about!

Steve

[Seizes stack of books and magazines and dumps them on the breakfast table.] This is what she means, Mabel. Psychoanalysis. My work-table groans with it. Books by Freud, the new Messiah; books by Jung, the new St. Paul; the Psychoanalytical Review—back numbers two-fifty per.

[Grabs a stack of books and magazines and throws them on the breakfast table.] This is what she means, Mabel. Psychoanalysis. My workspace is overwhelmed with it. Books by Freud, the new Messiah; books by Jung, the new St. Paul; the Psychoanalytical Review—back issues two-fifty each.

Mabel

But what’s it all about?

But what’s it all for?

Steve

All about your sub-un-non-conscious mind and desires you know not of. They may be doing you a great deal of harm. You may go crazy with them. Oh, yes! People are doing it right and left. Your dreaming you’re a hen—

All about your subconscious mind and desires you aren't aware of. They could be causing you a lot of harm. You might end up going crazy because of them. Oh, yes! People are experiencing this all the time. You're dreaming you're a hen—

[241]

[Shakes his head darkly.

[Shakes his head disapprovingly.]

Henrietta

Any fool can ridicule anything.

Any idiot can mock anything.

Mabel

[Hastily, to avert a quarrel.] But what do you say it is, Henrietta?

[Quickly, to avoid a fight.] But what do you think it is, Henrietta?

Steve

[Looking at his watch.] Oh, if Henrietta’s going to start that!

[Looking at his watch.] Oh no, if Henrietta's going to start that!

[During Henrietta’s next speech settles himself at work-table and sharpens a lead pencil.

[During Henrietta's next speech, he sits down at the work table and sharpens a pencil.

Henrietta

It’s like this, Mabel. You want something. You think you can’t have it. You think it’s wrong. So you try to think you don’t want it. Your mind protects you—avoids pain—by refusing to think the forbidden thing. But it’s there just the same. It stays there shut up in your unconscious mind, and it festers.

It’s like this, Mabel. You want something. You think you can’t have it. You think it’s wrong. So you try to convince yourself that you don’t want it. Your mind protects you—avoids pain—by refusing to think about the forbidden thing. But it’s still there. It stays locked away in your unconscious mind, and it festers.

Steve

Sort of an ingrowing mental toenail.

Sort of a mentally nagging issue.

Henrietta

Precisely. The forbidden impulse is there full of energy which has simply got to do something. It breaks into your consciousness in disguise, masks itself in dreams, makes all sorts of trouble. In extreme cases it drives you insane.

Exactly. The forbidden urge is full of energy that just needs to take action. It intrudes on your awareness in different forms, hides in dreams, and creates all kinds of chaos. In severe cases, it can drive you mad.

[242]

Mabel

[With a gesture of horror.] Oh!

[With a gesture of horror.] Oh no!

Henrietta

[Reassuring.] But psychoanalysis has found out how to save us from that. It brings into consciousness the suppressed desire that was making all the trouble. Psychoanalysis is simply the latest scientific method of preventing and curing insanity.

[Reassuring.] But psychoanalysis has figured out how to save us from that. It brings to light the suppressed desires that were causing all the issues. Psychoanalysis is just the newest scientific method for preventing and treating mental illness.

Steve

[From his table.] It is also the latest scientific method of separating families.

[From his table.] It's also the newest scientific way to separate families.

Henrietta

[Mildly.] Families that ought to be separated.

[Mildly.] Families that should be kept apart.

Steve

The Dwights, for instance. You must have met them, Mabel, when you were here before. Helen was living, apparently, in peace and happiness with good old Joe. Well—she went to this psychoanalyzer—she was “psyched,” and biff!—bang!—home she comes with an unsuppressed desire to leave her husband.

The Dwights, for example. You must have met them, Mabel, when you were here before. Helen was apparently living peacefully and happily with good old Joe. Well—she went to this therapist—she was “analyzed,” and suddenly—boom!—she comes back with an overwhelming urge to leave her husband.

[He starts work, drawing lines on a drawing board with a T-square.

[He begins his job, drawing lines on a drafting table with a T-square.

Mabel

How terrible! Yes, I remember Helen Dwight. But—but did she have such a desire?

How awful! Yes, I remember Helen Dwight. But—did she really have that kind of desire?

Steve

First she’d known of it.

First she knew of it.

[243]

Mabel

And she left him?

And she dumped him?

Henrietta

[Coolly.] Yes, she did.

Mabel

Wasn’t he kind to her?

Wasn’t he nice to her?

Henrietta

Why yes, good enough.

Totally, that works.

Mabel

Wasn’t he kind to her.

Wasn’t he nice to her?

Henrietta

Oh, yes—kind to her.

Oh, yes—be nice to her.

Mabel

And she left her good kind husband—!

And she left her kind husband—!

Henrietta

Oh, Mabel! “Left her good, kind husband!” How naïve—forgive me, dear, but how bourgeoise you are! She came to know herself. And she had the courage!

Oh, Mabel! “Left her good, kind husband!” How naive—sorry, dear, but how middle-class you are! She came to understand herself. And she had the courage!

Mabel

I may be very naïve and—bourgeoise—but I don’t see the good of a new science that breaks up homes.

I might be really naive and a bit middle-class, but I don’t see the benefit of a new science that disrupts families.

[Steve applauds.

Steve claps.

Steve

In enlightening Mabel, we mustn’t neglect to mention[244] the case of Art Holden’s private secretary, Mary Snow, who has just been informed of her suppressed desire for her employer.

In explaining things to Mabel, we should definitely mention[244] the situation of Art Holden’s private secretary, Mary Snow, who has just realized her repressed feelings for her boss.

Mabel

Why, I think it is terrible, Henrietta! It would be better if we didn’t know such things about ourselves.

Why, I think it's awful, Henrietta! It would be better if we didn’t know these things about ourselves.

Henrietta

No, Mabel, that is the old way.

No, Mabel, that's the old way.

Mabel

But—but her employer? Is he married?

But—what about her employer? Is he married?

Steve

[Grunts.] Wife and four children.

[Grunts.] Wife and 4 kids.

Mabel

Well, then, what good does it do the girl to be told she has a desire for him? There’s nothing can be done about it.

Well, what good does it do the girl to be told she wants him? There's nothing that can be done about it.

Henrietta

Old institutions will have to be reshaped so that something can be done in such cases. It happens, Mabel, that this suppressed desire was on the point of landing Mary Snow in the insane asylum. Are you so tight-minded that you’d rather have her in the insane asylum than break the conventions?

Old institutions will need to be reformed so that action can be taken in situations like this. It turns out, Mabel, that this hidden desire almost got Mary Snow sent to the mental hospital. Are you so narrow-minded that you'd prefer her in a mental hospital rather than challenging the norms?

Mabel

But—but have people always had these awful suppressed desires?

But—have people always had these terrible suppressed desires?

[245]

Henrietta

Always.

Steve

But they’ve just been discovered.

But they’ve just been found.

Henrietta

The harm they do has just been discovered. And free, sane people must face the fact that they have to be dealt with.

The damage they've caused has only just come to light. And free, rational people must confront the reality that they need to be addressed.

Mabel

[Stoutly.] I don’t believe they have them in Chicago.

[Stoutly.] I don't think they have those in Chicago.

Henrietta

[Business of giving Mabel up.] People “have them” wherever the living Libido—the center of the soul’s energy—is in conflict with petrified moral codes. That means everywhere in civilization. Psychoanalysis—

[Business of giving Mabel up.] People “experience” them wherever the living Libido—the core of the soul’s energy—is at odds with rigid moral codes. That means everywhere in society. Psychoanalysis—

Steve

Good God! I’ve got the roof in the cellar!

Good God! I’ve got the roof in the basement!

Henrietta

The roof in the cellar!

The ceiling in the basement!

Steve

[Holding plan at arm’s length.] That’s what psychoanalysis does!

[Keeping the plan at distance.] That’s what psychoanalysis does!

Henrietta

That’s what psychoanalysis could un-do. Is it any wonder I’m concerned about Steve? He dreamed the other night that the walls of his room melted away[246] and he found himself alone in a forest. Don’t you see how significant it is for an architect to have walls slip away from him? It symbolizes his loss of grip in his work. There’s some suppressed desire—

That’s what psychoanalysis could un-do. Is it any wonder I’m worried about Steve? He dreamt the other night that the walls of his room melted away[246] and he found himself alone in a forest. Don’t you see how significant it is for an architect to have walls disappear like that? It symbolizes his loss of control in his work. There’s some suppressed desire—

Steve

[Hurling his ruined plan viciously to the floor.] Suppressed hell!

[Throwing his failed plan angrily to the floor.] Stifled rage!

Henrietta

You speak more truly than you know. It is through suppressions that hells are formed in us.

You speak more truthfully than you realize. It's through our repressions that we create our own hells.

Mabel

[Looking at Steve, who is tearing his hair.] Don’t you think it would be a good thing, Henrietta, if we went somewhere else? [They rise and begin to pick up the dishes. Mabel drops a plate which breaks. Henrietta draws up short and looks at her—the psychoanalytic look.] I’m sorry, Henrietta. One of the Spode plates, too. [Surprised and resentful as Henrietta continues to peer at her.] Don’t take it so to heart, Henrietta.

[Looking at Steve, who is pulling at his hair.] Don’t you think it would be a good idea, Henrietta, if we went somewhere else? [They stand up and start picking up the dishes. Mabel drops a plate, which shatters. Henrietta pauses and looks at her—the psychoanalytic look.] I’m sorry, Henrietta. One of the Spode plates, too. [Surprised and annoyed as Henrietta keeps looking at her.] Don’t take it so personally, Henrietta.

Henrietta

I can’t help taking it to heart.

I can’t help but take it personally.

Mabel

I’ll get you another. [Pause. More sharply as Henrietta does not answer.] I said I’ll get you another plate, Henrietta.

Henrietta

It’s not the plate.

It's not about the plate.

[247]

Mabel

For heaven’s sake, what is it then?

For heaven's sake, what is it then?

Henrietta

It’s the significant little false movement that made you drop it.

It’s the small but important mistake that caused you to drop it.

Mabel

Well, I suppose everyone makes a false movement once in a while.

Well, I guess everyone messes up every now and then.

Henrietta

Yes, Mabel, but these false movements all mean something.

Yes, Mabel, but these fake actions all mean something.

Mabel

[About to cry.] I don’t think that’s very nice! It was just because I happened to think of that Mabel Snow you were talking about—

[About to cry.] I don’t think that’s very nice! It was just that I suddenly thought about that Mabel Snow you were mentioning—

Henrietta

Mabel Snow!

Mabel Snow!

Mabel

Snow—Snow—well, what was her name, then?

Snow—Snow—well, what was her name again?

Henrietta

Her name is Mary. You substituted your own name for hers.

Her name is Mary. You replaced your own name with hers.

Mabel

Well, Mary Snow, then; Mary Snow. I never heard her name but once. I don’t see anything to make such a fuss about.

Well, Mary Snow, then; Mary Snow. I only heard her name once. I don't see what the big deal is.

[248]

Henrietta

[Gently.] Mabel dear—mistakes like that in names—

[Gently.] Mabel dear—errors like that in names—

Mabel

[Desperately.] They don’t mean something, too, do they?

[Desperately.] They don't mean anything, do they?

Henrietta

[Gently.] I am sorry, dear, but they do.

[Gently.] I'm sorry, dear, but they really do.

Mabel

But I’m always doing that!

But I'm always doing that!

Henrietta

[After a start of horror.] My poor little sister, tell me about it.

[After a start of horror.] My poor little sister, share your story with me.

Mabel

About what?

Henrietta

About your not being happy. About your longing for another sort of life.

About you not being happy. About your desire for a different kind of life.

Mabel

But I don’t.

But I don’t.

Henrietta

Ah, I understand these things, dear. You feel Bob is limiting you to a life in which you do not feel free—

Ah, I get it, dear. You think Bob is restricting you to a life where you don’t feel free—

Mabel

Henrietta! When did I ever say such a thing?

Henrietta! When did I ever say anything like that?

Henrietta

You said you are not in touch with things intellectual. You showed your feeling that it is Bob’s profession—that[249] has engendered a resentment which has colored your whole life with him.

You mentioned that you're not connected to intellectual things. You expressed that it's Bob’s job—that[249] has caused a resentment that has affected your entire relationship with him.

Mabel

Why—Henrietta!

Henrietta

Don’t be afraid of me, little sister. There’s nothing can shock me or turn me from you. I am not like that. I wanted you to come for this visit because I had a feeling that you needed more from life than you were getting. No one of these things I have seen would excite my suspicion. It’s the combination. You don’t eat breakfast [Enumerating on her fingers]; you make false moves; you substitute your own name for the name of another whose love is misdirected. You’re nervous; you look queer; in your eyes there’s a frightened look that is most unlike you. And this dream. A hen. Come with me this afternoon to Dr. Russell! Your whole life may be at stake, Mabel.

Don't be scared of me, little sister. There’s nothing that can surprise me or make me turn away from you. That’s not who I am. I wanted you to come over because I felt you needed more from life than what you’ve been getting. None of these things I've noticed would raise my suspicions on their own. It’s the combination. You skip breakfast [Counting on her fingers]; you make awkward moves; you use your own name instead of the name of someone whose love is misplaced. You seem anxious; you look off; there’s a look of fear in your eyes that isn’t like you at all. And then there's this dream. A hen. Come with me to see Dr. Russell this afternoon! Your whole life might be at risk, Mabel.

Mabel

[Gasping.] Henrietta, I—you—you always were the smartest in the family, and all that, but—this is terrible! I don’t think we ought to think such things. [Brightening.] Why, I’ll tell you why I dreamed I was a hen. It was because last night, telling about that time in Chicago, you said I was as mad as a wet hen.

[Gasping.] Henrietta, I—you—you were always the smartest in the family and all, but—this is awful! I don’t think we should be thinking such things. [Brightening.] Well, I’ll tell you why I dreamed I was a hen. It’s because last night, when we were talking about that time in Chicago, you said I was as crazy as a wet hen.

Henrietta

[Superior.] Did you dream you were a wet hen?

[Superior.] Did you dream you were a soaked hen?

Mabel

[Forced to admit it.] No.

No.

[250]

Henrietta

No. You dreamed you were a dry hen. And why, being a hen, were you urged to step?

No. You dreamed you were a dry hen. And why, as a hen, were you encouraged to step?

Mabel

Maybe it’s because when I am getting on a street car it always irritates me to have them call “Step lively.”

Maybe it’s because when I'm getting on a streetcar, it always annoys me when they say, “Step lively.”

Henrietta

No, Mabel, that is only a child’s view of it—if you will forgive me. You see merely the elements used in the dream. You do not see into the dream; you do not see its meaning. This dream of the hen—

No, Mabel, that's just a child's perspective on it—if you'll allow me. You only see the basic elements involved in the dream. You don’t understand the dream itself; you don’t grasp its meaning. This dream of the hen—

Steve

Hen—hen—wet hen—dry hen—mad hen! [Jumps up in a rage.] Let me out of this!

Henrietta

[Hastily picking up dishes, speaks soothingly.] Just a minute, dear, and we’ll have things so you can work in quiet. Mabel and I are going to sit in my room.

[Hastily picking up dishes, speaks soothingly.] Just a minute, honey, and we’ll have everything set up so you can work in peace. Mabel and I are going to chill in my room.

[She goes out left, carrying dishes.

[She exits to the left, carrying dishes.]

Steve

[Seizing hat and coat from an alcove near the outside door.] I’m going to be psychoanalyzed. I’m going now! I’m going straight to that infallible doctor of hers—that priest of this new religion. If he’s got honesty enough to tell Henrietta there’s nothing the matter with my unconscious mind, perhaps I can be let alone about it, and then I will be all right.[251] [From the door in a low voice.] Don’t tell Henrietta I’m going. It might take weeks, and I couldn’t stand all the talk.

[Grabbing his hat and coat from the coat rack by the door.] I'm going to get analyzed. I'm leaving now! I'm heading straight to that so-called expert of hers—that priest of this new belief system. If he's honest enough to tell Henrietta that there's nothing wrong with my unconscious mind, maybe I can finally be left alone about it, and then I will be fine.[251] [From the door in a low voice.] Don't tell Henrietta I'm going. It could take weeks, and I can't handle all the chatter.

[He hurries out.

He rushes out.

Henrietta

[Returning.] Where’s Steve? Gone? [With a hopeless gesture.] You see how impatient he is—how unlike himself! I tell you, Mabel, I’m nearly distracted about Steve.

[Returning.] Where’s Steve? Is he gone? [With a hopeless gesture.] You can see how impatient he is—so unlike himself! I swear, Mabel, I’m almost losing my mind over Steve.

Mabel

I think he’s a little distracted, too.

I think he's a bit distracted, too.

Henrietta

Well, if he’s gone—you might as well stay here. I have a committee meeting at the book-shop, and will have to leave you to yourself for an hour or two. [As she puts her hat on, taking it from the alcove where Steve found his, her eye, lighting up almost carnivorously, falls on an enormous volume on the floor beside the work table. The book has been half hidden by the wastebasket. She picks it up and carries it around the table toward Mabel.] Here, dear, is one of the simplest statements of psychoanalysis. You just read this and then we can talk more intelligently. [Mabel takes volume and staggers back under its weight to chair rear center, Henrietta goes to outer door, stops and asks abruptly.] How old is Lyman Eggleston?

Well, if he’s gone—you might as well stay here. I have a committee meeting at the bookshop, and I’ll have to leave you to yourself for an hour or two. [As she puts on her hat, taking it from the alcove where Steve found his, her eyes light up almost eagerly as they fall on a huge book on the floor beside the work table. The book has been half hidden by the wastebasket. She picks it up and carries it around the table toward Mabel.] Here, dear, is one of the simplest explanations of psychoanalysis. Just read this and then we can talk more intelligently. [Mabel takes the book and staggers back under its weight to the chair at the rear center, while Henrietta walks to the outer door, stops, and asks abruptly.] How old is Lyman Eggleston?

Mabel

[Promptly.] He isn’t forty yet. Why, what made you ask that, Henrietta?

[Promptly.] He’s not even forty yet. What made you ask that, Henrietta?

[252]

[As she turns her head to look at Henrietta her hands move toward the upper corners of the book balanced on her knees.

[As she turns her head to look at Henrietta, her hands move towards the upper corners of the book resting on her knees.

Henrietta

Oh, nothing. Au revoir.

Oh, nothing. Goodbye.

[She goes out. Mabel stares at the ceiling. The book slides to the floor. She starts; looks at the book, then at the broken plate on the table.]

[She goes outside. Mabel stares at the ceiling. The book drops to the floor. She jumps, looks at the book, then at the broken plate on the table.]

The plate! The book! [She lifts her eyes, leans forward elbow on knee, chin on knuckles and plaintively queries] Am I unhappy?

The plate! The book! [She lifts her eyes, leans forward with her elbow on her knee, chin on her knuckles, and sadly asks] Am I unhappy?

(Curtain)

Curtain

Scene II: Two weeks later. The stage is as in Scene I, except that the breakfast table has been removed. During the first few minutes the dusk of a winter afternoon deepens. Out of the darkness spring rows of double street-lights almost meeting in the distance. Henrietta is at the psychoanalytical end of Steve’s work-table, surrounded by open books and periodicals, writing. Steve enters briskly.

Scene 2: Two weeks later. The stage looks like it did in Scene I, except the breakfast table is gone. During the first few minutes, the dusk of a winter afternoon deepens. Rows of double streetlights spring into view, almost meeting in the distance. Henrietta is at the psychoanalytical end of Steve's work table, surrounded by open books and magazines, writing. Steve enters briskly.

Steve

What are you doing, my dear?

What are you up to, my dear?

Henrietta

My paper for the Liberal Club.

My essay for the Liberal Club.

[253]

Steve

Your paper on—?

Henrietta

On a subject which does not have your sympathy.

On a topic that doesn't have your support.

Steve

Oh, I’m not sure I’m wholly out of sympathy with psychoanalysis, Henrietta. You worked it so hard. I couldn’t even take a bath without it’s meaning something.

Oh, I’m not sure I completely disagree with psychoanalysis, Henrietta. You put so much effort into it. I couldn’t even take a bath without it feeling like it had some kind of meaning.

Henrietta

[Loftily.] I talked it because I knew you needed it.

[Loftily.] I said it because I knew you needed to hear it.

Steve

You haven’t said much about it these last two weeks. Uh—your faith in it hasn’t weakened any?

You haven't talked much about it these past two weeks. Uh—has your faith in it remained strong?

Henrietta

Weakened? It’s grown stronger with each new thing I’ve come to know. And Mabel. She is with Dr. Russell now. Dr. Russell is wonderful! From what Mabel tells me I believe his analysis is going to prove that I was right. Today I discovered a remarkable confirmation of my theory in the hen-dream.

Weakened? It’s gotten stronger with everything new I’ve learned. And Mabel. She’s with Dr. Russell now. Dr. Russell is amazing! From what Mabel tells me, I think his analysis is going to show that I was right. Today I found a remarkable confirmation of my theory in the hen-dream.

Steve

What is your theory?

What's your theory?

Henrietta

Well, you know about Lyman Eggleston. I’ve wondered about him. I’ve never seen him, but I know[254] he’s less bourgeois than Mabel’s other friends—more intellectual—and [Significantly] she doesn’t see much of him because Bob doesn’t like him.

Well, you know about Lyman Eggleston. I’ve thought about him. I’ve never met him, but I know[254] he’s less mainstream than Mabel’s other friends—more intellectual—and [Significantly] she doesn’t spend much time with him because Bob doesn’t like him.

Steve

But what’s the confirmation?

Henrietta

Today I noticed the first syllable of his name.

Today I noticed the first part of his name.

Steve

Ly?

Henrietta

No—egg.

Steve

Egg?

Henrietta

[Patiently.] Mabel dreamed she was a hen. [Steve laughs.] You wouldn’t laugh if you knew how important names are in interpreting dreams. Freud is full of just such cases in which a whole hidden complex is revealed by a single significant syllable—like this egg.

[Patiently.] Mabel dreamed she was a hen. [Steve laughs.] You wouldn’t laugh if you knew how crucial names are when interpreting dreams. Freud has plenty of examples where an entire underlying issue is uncovered by one important syllable—like this egg.

Steve

Doesn’t the traditional relation of hen and egg suggest rather a maternal feeling?

Doesn't the traditional relationship between hen and egg imply a nurturing feeling?

Henrietta

There is something maternal in Mabel’s love, of course, but that’s only one element.

There’s definitely a nurturing aspect to Mabel’s love, but that’s just one part of it.

[255]

Steve

Well, suppose Mabel hasn’t a suppressed desire to be this gentleman’s mother, but his beloved. What’s to be done about it? What about Bob? Don’t you think it’s going to be a little rough on him?

Well, suppose Mabel doesn't have a hidden desire to be this guy's mother, but instead, his girlfriend. What should we do about it? What about Bob? Don’t you think this is going to be a bit hard on him?

Henrietta

That can’t be helped. Bob, like everyone else, must face the facts of life. If Dr. Russell should arrive independently at this same interpretation I shall not hesitate to advise Mabel to leave her present husband.

That can't be helped. Bob, like everyone else, has to face the reality of life. If Dr. Russell comes to the same conclusion independently, I won’t hesitate to suggest to Mabel that she should leave her current husband.

Steve

Um—hum! [The lights go up on Fifth Avenue. Steve goes to the window and looks out.] How long is it we’ve lived here, Henrietta?

Um—hum! [The lights go up on Fifth Avenue. Steve goes to the window and looks out.] How long have we been living here, Henrietta?

Henrietta

Why, this is the third year, Steve.

Steve

I—we—one would miss this view if one went away, wouldn’t one?

I—we—would miss this view if we left, wouldn’t we?

Henrietta

How strangely you speak! Oh, Stephen, I wish you’d go to Dr. Russell. Don’t think my fears have abated because I’ve been able to restrain myself. I had to on account of Mabel. But now, dear—won’t you go?

How oddly you’re talking! Oh, Stephen, I wish you’d see Dr. Russell. Don’t think my worries have lessened just because I managed to hold back. I had to for Mabel’s sake. But now, dear—won’t you go?

Steve

I—[He breaks off, turns on the light, then comes[256] and sits beside Henrietta.] How long have we been married, Henrietta?

I—[He pauses, turns on the light, then comes[256] and sits beside Henrietta.] How long have we been married, Henrietta?

Henrietta

Stephen, I don’t understand you! You must go to Dr. Russell.

Stephen, I don't get you! You have to go see Dr. Russell.

Steve

I have gone.

I'm gone.

Henrietta

You—what?

You—what's up?

Steve

[Jauntily.] Yes, Henrietta, I’ve been psyched.

[Cheerfully.] Yeah, Henrietta, I’ve been really excited.

Henrietta

You went to Dr. Russell?

Did you see Dr. Russell?

Steve

The same.

Same here.

Henrietta

And what did he say?

Steve

He said—I—I was a little surprised by what he said, Henrietta.

He said—I—I was a bit surprised by what he said, Henrietta.

Henrietta

[Breathlessly.] Of course—one can so seldom anticipate. But tell me—your dream, Stephen? It means—?

[Breathlessly.] Of course—you can hardly ever predict. But tell me—your dream, Stephen? What does it mean—?

Steve

It means—I was considerably surprised by what it means.

It means—I was really surprised by what it means.

[257]

Henrietta

Don’t be so exasperating!

Don't be so annoying!

Steve

It means—you really want to know, Henrietta?

It means—you actually want to know, Henrietta?

Henrietta

Stephen, you’ll drive me mad!

Stephen, you’re driving me crazy!

Steve

He said—of course he may be wrong in what he said.

He said—of course he might be wrong about what he said.

Henrietta

He isn’t wrong. Tell me!

He isn't wrong. Tell me!

Steve

He said my dream of the walls receding and leaving me alone in a forest indicates a suppressed desire—

He said that my dream of the walls pulling back and leaving me alone in a forest shows a hidden desire—

Henrietta

Yes—yes!

Yep—yep!

Steve

To be freed from—

To be free from—

Henrietta

Yes—freed from—?

Yes—free from—?

Steve

Marriage.

Henrietta

[Crumples. Stares.] Marriage!

[Crumples. Stares.] Wedding!

[258]

Steve

He—he may be mistaken, you know.

He—he might be wrong, you know.

Henrietta

May be mistaken?

Maybe mistaken?

Steve

I—well, of course, I hadn’t taken any stock in it myself. It was only your great confidence—

I—well, of course, I hadn’t believed in it myself. It was just your strong confidence—

Henrietta

Stephen, are you telling me that Dr. Russell—Dr. A. E. Russell—told you this? [Steve nods.] Told you you have a suppressed desire to separate from me?

Stephen, are you saying that Dr. Russell—Dr. A. E. Russell—said this to you? [Steve nods.] He told you that you have a hidden desire to break away from me?

Steve

That’s what he said.

That's what he said.

Henrietta

Did he know who you were?

Did he know who you are?

Steve

Yes.

Henrietta

That you were married to me?

Steve

Yes, he knew that.

Yeah, he knew that.

Henrietta

And he told you to leave me?

And he told you to break up with me?

[259]

Steve

It seems he must be wrong, Henrietta.

It seems he has to be mistaken, Henrietta.

Henrietta

[Rising.] And I’ve sent him more patients—! [Catches herself and resumes coldly.] What reason did he give for this analysis?

[Rising.] And I’ve sent him more patients—! [Catches herself and resumes coldly.] What did he say was the reason for this analysis?

Steve

He says the confining walls are a symbol of my feeling about marriage and that their fading away is a wish-fulfillment.

He says the surrounding walls represent my feelings about marriage, and their disappearing is a fulfillment of my wishes.

Henrietta

[Gulping.] Well, is it? Do you want our marriage to end?

[Gulping.] Well, is it? Do you want to end our marriage?

Steve

It was a great surprise to me that I did. You see I hadn’t known what was in my unconscious mind.

It was a huge surprise to me that I did. You see, I hadn't realized what was in my unconscious mind.

Henrietta

[Flaming.] What did you tell Dr. Russell about me to make him think you weren’t happy?

[Flaming.] What did you tell Dr. Russell about me that made him think you weren’t happy?

Steve

I never told him a thing, Henrietta. He got it all from his confounded clever inferences. I—I tried to refute them, but he said that was only part of my self-protective lying.

I never told him anything, Henrietta. He figured it all out from his annoying clever assumptions. I—I tried to deny them, but he said that was just part of my self-protective lying.

Henrietta

And that’s why you were so—happy—when you came in just now!

And that’s why you were so—happy—when you walked in just now!

[260]

Steve

Why, Henrietta, how can you say such a thing? I was sad. Didn’t I speak sadly of—of the view? Didn’t I ask how long we had been married?

Why, Henrietta, how can you say that? I was sad. Didn’t I talk sadly about the view? Didn’t I ask how long we had been married?

Henrietta

[Rising.] Stephen Brewster, have you no sense of the seriousness of this? Dr. Russell doesn’t know what our marriage has been. You do. You should have laughed him down! Confined—in life with me? Did you tell him that I believe in freedom?

[Rising.] Stephen Brewster, do you really understand how serious this is? Dr. Russell doesn't know what our marriage has been like. You do. You should have dismissed him! Confined—in a life with me? Did you tell him that I believe in freedom?

Steve

I very emphatically told him that his results were a great surprise to me.

I clearly told him that his results really surprised me.

Henrietta

But you accepted them.

But you went along with them.

Steve

Oh, not at all. I merely couldn’t refute his arguments. I’m not a psychologist. I came home to talk it over with you. You being a disciple of psychoanalysis—

Oh, not at all. I just couldn’t argue against his points. I’m not a psychologist. I came home to discuss it with you. You being a follower of psychoanalysis—

Henrietta

If you are going, I wish you would go tonight!

If you're going, I really wish you'd go tonight!

Steve

Oh, my dear! I—surely I couldn’t do that! Think of my feelings. And my laundry hasn’t come home.

Oh, my dear! I—there’s no way I could do that! Think about my feelings. And my laundry still hasn’t come back.

[261]

Henrietta

I ask you to go tonight. Some women would falter at this, Steve, but I am not such a woman. I leave you free. I do not repudiate psychoanalysis; I say again that it has done great things. It has also made mistakes, of course. But since you accept this analysis—[She sits down and pretends to begin work.] I have to finish this paper. I wish you would leave me.

I’m asking you to go tonight. Some women might hesitate about this, Steve, but I'm not one of them. I’m letting you go. I don’t deny that psychoanalysis has its merits; I’ll say it again, it has accomplished great things. It’s made mistakes too, of course. But since you agree with this analysis—[She sits down and pretends to begin work.] I need to finish this paper. I wish you would just leave me alone.

Steve

[Scratches his head, goes to the inner door.] I’m sorry, Henrietta, about my unconscious mind.

[Scratches his head, goes to the inner door.] I’m sorry, Henrietta, about the stuff my subconscious is doing.

[Alone, Henrietta’s face betrays her outraged state of mind—disconcerted, resentful, trying to pull herself together. She attains an air of bravely bearing an outrageous thing.—The outer door opens and Mabel enters in great excitement.

[By herself, Henrietta's face shows her angry feelings—disturbed, bitter, struggling to compose herself. She manages to appear as if she’s courageously dealing with something outrageous.—The outer door opens and Mabel comes in, clearly very excited.]

Mabel

[Breathless.] Henrietta, I’m so glad you’re here. And alone? [Looks toward the inner door.] Are you alone, Henrietta?

[Breathless.] Henrietta, I’m so happy you’re here. And alone? [Looks toward the inner door.] Are you by yourself, Henrietta?

Henrietta

[With reproving dignity.] Very much so.

With a respectful reprimand.

Mabel

[Rushing to her.] Henrietta, he’s found it!

[Rushing to her.] Henrietta, he found it!

Henrietta

[Aloof.] Who has found what?

[Detached.] Who's discovered what?

[262]

Mabel

Who has found what? Dr. Russell has found my suppressed desire!

Who has discovered what? Dr. Russell has uncovered my hidden desire!

Henrietta

That is interesting.

That's interesting.

Mabel

He finished with me today—he got hold of my complex—in the most amazing way! But, oh, Henrietta—it is so terrible!

He wrapped things up with me today—he really tapped into my issues—in the most incredible way! But, oh, Henrietta—it’s so horrible!

Henrietta

Do calm yourself, Mabel. Surely there’s no occasion for all this agitation.

Calm down, Mabel. There’s really no reason to be so worked up.

Mabel

But there is! And when you think of the lives that are affected—the readjustments that must be made in order to bring the suppressed hell out of me and save me from the insane asylum—!

But there is! And when you consider the lives that are impacted—the changes that need to happen to bring the hidden chaos out of me and keep me from ending up in a mental institution—!

Henrietta

The insane asylum!

The mental health facility!

Mabel

You said that’s where these complexes brought people!

Henrietta

What did the doctor tell you, Mabel?

What did the doctor say to you, Mabel?

Mabel

Oh, I don’t know how I can tell you—it is so awful—so unbelievable.

Oh, I don’t know how to explain it to you—it’s so horrible—so unbelievable.

[263]

Henrietta

I rather have my hand in at hearing the unbelievable.

I’d rather be involved in hearing the unbelievable.

Mabel

Henrietta, who would ever have thought it? How can it be true? But the doctor is perfectly certain that I have a suppressed desire for—

Henrietta, who would have ever thought that? How can it be real? But the doctor is completely sure that I have a suppressed desire for—

[Looks at Henrietta, is unable to continue.

[Looks at Henrietta, unable to continue.

Henrietta

Oh, go on, Mabel. I’m not unprepared for what you have to say.

Oh, come on, Mabel. I’m ready for whatever you have to say.

Mabel

Not unprepared? You mean you have suspected it?

Not unprepared? You mean you've suspected it?

Henrietta

From the first. It’s been my theory all along.

From the beginning. It’s been my theory all along.

Mabel

But, Henrietta, I didn’t know myself that I had this secret desire for Stephen.

But, Henrietta, I didn't even realize that I had this secret crush on Stephen.

Henrietta

[Jumps up.] Stephen!

Mabel

My brother-in-law! My own sister’s husband!

My brother-in-law! My sister's husband!

Henrietta

You have a suppressed desire for Stephen!

You have a hidden crush on Stephen!

[264]

Mabel

Oh, Henrietta, aren’t these unconscious selves terrible? They seem so unlike us!

Oh, Henrietta, aren’t these unconscious selves awful? They seem so unlike us!

Henrietta

What insane thing are you driving at?

What crazy point are you trying to make?

Mabel

[Blubbering.] Henrietta, don’t you use that word to me. I don’t want to go to the insane asylum.

[Blubbering.] Henrietta, don’t say that word to me. I don’t want to go to the mental hospital.

Henrietta

What did Dr. Russell say?

Mabel

Well, you see—oh, it’s the strangest thing! But you know the voice in my dream that called “Step, Hen!” Dr. Russell found out today that when I was a little girl I had a story-book in words of one syllable and I read the name Stephen wrong. I used to read it S-t-e-p, step, h-e-n, hen. [Dramatically.] Step Hen is Stephen. [Enter Stephen, his head bent over a time-table.] Stephen is Step Hen!

Well, you know—it's the weirdest thing! But you know that voice in my dream that called out “Step, Hen!”? Dr. Russell found out today that when I was a little girl, I had a storybook with one-syllable words, and I read the name Stephen wrong. I used to read it as S-t-e-p, step, h-e-n, hen. [Dramatically.] Step Hen is Stephen. [Enter Stephen, his head bent over a time-table.] Stephen is Step Hen!

Steve

I? Step Hen?

Mabel

[Triumphantly.] S-t-e-p, step, H-e-n, hen, Stephen!

Henrietta

[Exploding.] Well, what if Stephen is Step Hen? [Scornfully.] Step Hen! Step Hen! For that ridiculous coincidence—

[265]

Mabel

Coincidence! But it’s childish to look at the mere elements of a dream. You have to look into it—you have to see what it means!

Coincidence! But it's naïve to focus just on the basic elements of a dream. You need to look deeper—you have to understand what it means!

Henrietta

On account of that trivial, meaningless play on syllables—on that flimsy basis—you are ready—[Wails.] O-h!

On the basis of that silly, pointless play on words—on such a weak foundation—you are all set—[Wails.] O-h!

Steve

What on earth’s the matter? What has happened? Suppose I am Step Hen? What about it? What does it mean?

What’s going on? What happened? So what if I am Step Hen? What does that matter? What does it mean?

Mabel

[Crying.] It means—that I—have a suppressed desire for you!

[Crying.] It means—that I—have a hidden desire for you!

Steve

For me! The deuce you have! [Feebly.] What—er—makes you think so?

For me! No way! [Weakly.] What—uh—makes you think that?

Mabel

Dr. Russell has worked it out scientifically.

Dr. Russell has figured it out scientifically.

Henrietta

Yes. Through the amazing discovery that Step Hen equals Stephen!

Mabel

[Tearfully.] Oh, that isn’t all—that isn’t near all. Henrietta won’t give me a chance to tell it. She’d rather I’d go to the insane asylum than be unconventional.

[Tearfully.] Oh, that’s not everything—that’s barely anything. Henrietta won’t give me a chance to explain. She’d rather see me in a mental institution than to be different.

[266]

Henrietta

We’ll all go there if you can’t control yourself. We are still waiting for some rational report.

We’ll all go there if you can’t get it together. We’re still waiting for a logical update.

Mabel

[Drying her eyes.] Oh, there’s such a lot about names. [With some pride.] I don’t see how I ever did it. It all works in together. I dreamed I was a hen because that’s the first syllable of Hen-rietta’s name, and when I dreamed I was a hen, I was putting myself in Henrietta’s place.

[Wiping her tears.] Oh, there’s so much about names. [With some pride.] I can’t believe I did it. It all connects. I dreamed I was a hen because that’s the first syllable of Hen-rietta’s name, and when I dreamed I was a hen, I was putting myself in Henrietta’s shoes.

Henrietta

With Stephen?

Mabel

With Stephen.

Hanging with Stephen.

Henrietta

[Outraged.] Oh! [Turns in rage upon Stephen, who is fanning himself with the time-table.] What are you doing with that time-table?

[Outraged.] Oh! [Turns in anger towards Stephen, who is fanning himself with the schedule.] What are you doing with that schedule?

Steve

Why—I thought—you were so keen to have me go tonight—I thought I’d just take a run up to Canada, and join Billy—a little shooting—but—

Why—I thought—you were so eager to have me go tonight—I thought I’d just take a quick trip up to Canada, and join Billy—for a little shooting—but—

Mabel

But there’s more about the names.

But there’s more to say about the names.

Henrietta

Mabel, have you thought of Bob—dear old Bob—your good, kind husband?

Mabel, have you thought about Bob—good old Bob—your caring, kind husband?

[267]

Mabel

Oh, Henrietta, “my good, kind husband!”

Oh, Henrietta, “my wonderful, kind husband!”

Henrietta

Think of him, Mabel, out there alone in Chicago, working his head off, fixing people’s teeth—for you!

Think of him, Mabel, out there all alone in Chicago, working hard, fixing people's teeth—for you!

Mabel

Yes, but think of the living Libido—in conflict with petrified moral codes! And think of the perfectly wonderful way the names all prove it. Dr. Russell said he’s never seen anything more convincing. Just look at Stephen’s last name—Brewster. I dream I’m a hen, and the name Brewster—you have to say its first letter by itself—and then the hen, that’s me, she says to him: “Stephen, Be Rooster!”

Yes, but consider the living Libido—clashing with rigid moral codes! And think about how wonderfully the names reflect this. Dr. Russell said he’s never seen anything more convincing. Just look at Stephen’s last name—Brewster. I dream I’m a hen, and with the name Brewster—you have to say its first letter alone—and then the hen, that’s me, says to him: “Stephen, Be Rooster!”

[Henrietta and Stephen collapse into the nearest chairs.

Henrietta and Stephen collapse into the nearest seats.

Mabel

I think it’s perfectly wonderful! Why, if it wasn’t for psychoanalysis you’d never find out how wonderful your own mind is!

I think it’s absolutely amazing! Honestly, if it weren't for psychoanalysis, you’d never discover how incredible your own mind is!

Steve

[Begins to chuckle.] Be Rooster! Stephen, Be Rooster!

[Starts to laugh.] Be Rooster! Stephen, Be Rooster!

Henrietta

You think it’s funny, do you?

You think that's funny, huh?

Steve

Well, what’s to be done about it? Does Mabel have to go away with me?

Well, what should we do about it? Does Mabel have to come away with me?

[268]

Henrietta

Do you want Mabel to go away with you?

Do you want Mabel to come away with you?

Steve

Well, but Mabel herself—her complex—her suppressed desire—!

Well, but Mabel herself—her issues—her repressed desires—!

Henrietta

[Going to her.] Mabel, are you going to insist on going away with Stephen?

[Going to her.] Mabel, are you really going to insist on leaving with Stephen?

Mabel

I’d rather go with Stephen than go to the insane asylum!

I’d rather be with Stephen than go to the mental hospital!

Henrietta

For heaven’s sake, Mabel, drop that insane asylum! If you did have a suppressed desire for Stephen hidden away in you—God knows it isn’t hidden now. Dr. Russell has brought it into your consciousness—with a vengeance. That’s all that’s necessary to break up a complex. Psychoanalysis doesn’t say you have to gratify every suppressed desire.

For heaven’s sake, Mabel, let go of that crazy idea! If you did have a repressed feeling for Stephen tucked away inside you—God knows it’s not hidden anymore. Dr. Russell has made it clear to you—with a passion. That’s all it takes to break down a complex. Psychoanalysis doesn’t say you have to act on every repressed desire.

Steve

[Softly.] Unless it’s for Lyman Eggleston.

Henrietta

[Turning on him.] Well, if it comes to that, Stephen Brewster, I’d like to know why that interpretation of mine isn’t as good as this one? Step, Hen!

[Turning on him.] Well, if it's going to be like that, Stephen Brewster, I want to know why my interpretation isn't as valid as this one? Step, Hen!

Steve

But Be Rooster! [He pauses, chuckling to himself.][269] Step-Hen B-rooster. And Henrietta. Pshaw, my dear, Doc Russell’s got you beat a mile! [He turns away and chuckles.] Be rooster!

But Be Rooster! [He pauses, chuckling to himself.][269] Step-Hen B-rooster. And Henrietta. Come on, my dear, Doc Russell’s got you beat by a long shot! [He turns away and chuckles.] Be rooster!

Mabel

What has Lyman Eggleston got to do with it?

What does Lyman Eggleston have to do with it?

Steve

According to Henrietta, you, the hen, have a suppressed desire for Eggleston, the egg.

According to Henrietta, you, the hen, have a hidden desire for Eggleston, the egg.

Mabel

Henrietta, I think that’s indecent of you! He is bald as an egg and little and fat—the idea of you thinking such a thing of me!

Henrietta, I think that's really inappropriate of you! He's bald as an egg, short, and chubby—the fact that you would even consider something like that about me!

Henrietta

Well, Bob isn’t little and bald and fat! Why don’t you stick to your own husband? [To Stephen.] What if Dr. Russell’s interpretation has got mine “beat a mile”? [Resentful look at him.] It would only mean that Mabel doesn’t want Eggleston and does want you. Does that mean she has to have you?

Well, Bob isn’t short, bald, and overweight! Why don’t you focus on your own husband? [To Stephen.] What if Dr. Russell’s interpretation completely outdoes mine? [Resentful look at him.] That would just mean that Mabel doesn’t want Eggleston and actually wants you. Does that mean she has to be with you?

Mabel

But you said Mabel Snow—

But you mentioned Mabel Snow—

Henrietta

Mary Snow! You’re not as much like her as you think—substituting your name for hers! The cases are entirely different. Oh, I wouldn’t have believed this of you, Mabel. [Beginning to cry.] I brought[270] you here for a pleasant visit—thought you needed brightening up—wanted to be nice to you—and now you—my husband—you insist—

Mary Snow! You’re not as much like her as you think—just swapping your name for hers! The situations are totally different. Oh, I wouldn’t have believed this of you, Mabel. [Starting to cry.] I brought[270] you here for a nice visit—thought you could use some cheering up—wanted to be kind to you—and now you—my husband—you insist—

[In fumbling her way to her chair she brushes to the floor some sheets from the psychoanalytical table.

[As she awkwardly makes her way to her chair, she knocks some sheets off the psychoanalytical table and they fall to the floor.]

Steve

[With solicitude.] Careful, dear. Your paper on psychoanalysis!

[With concern.] Be careful, my dear. Your paper on psychoanalysis!

[Gathers up sheets and offers them to her.

[Picks up the sheets and hands them to her.]

Henrietta

I don’t want my paper on psychoanalysis! I’m sick of psychoanalysis!

I don’t want to write my paper on psychoanalysis! I’m tired of psychoanalysis!

Steve

[Eagerly.] Do you mean that, Henrietta?

[Eagerly.] Are you serious about that, Henrietta?

Henrietta

Why shouldn’t I mean it? Look at all I’ve done for psychoanalysis—and—[Raising a tear-stained face] what has psychoanalysis done for me?

Steve

Do you mean, Henrietta, that you’re going to stop talking psychoanalysis?

Do you mean, Henrietta, that you're going to stop talking about psychoanalysis?

Henrietta

Why shouldn’t I stop talking it? Haven’t I seen what it does to people? Mabel has gone crazy about psychoanalysis!

Why shouldn't I quit talking about it? Haven't I seen what it does to people? Mabel has gone crazy over psychoanalysis!

[271]

[At the word “crazy” with a moan Mabel sinks to chair and buries her face in her hands.

At the word “crazy” with a moan Mabel sinks into a chair and hides her face in her hands.

Steve

[Solemnly.] Do you swear never to wake me up in the night to find out what I’m dreaming?

[Solemnly.] Do you promise not to wake me up at night to ask what I'm dreaming?

Henrietta

Dream what you please—I don’t care what you’re dreaming.

Dream whatever you want—I don't care what you're dreaming.

Steve

Will you clear off my work-table so the Journal of Morbid Psychology doesn’t stare me in the face when I’m trying to plan a house?

Will you clear off my worktable so the Journal of Morbid Psychology doesn't stare me down while I'm trying to plan a house?

Henrietta

[Pushing a stack of periodicals off the table.] I’ll burn the Journal of Morbid Psychology!

[Pushing a stack of magazines off the table.] I’ll burn the Journal of Morbid Psychology!

Steve

My dear Henrietta, if you’re going to separate from psychoanalysis, there’s no reason why I should separate from you.

My dear Henrietta, if you’re going to move on from psychoanalysis, that doesn’t mean I need to move on from you.

[They embrace ardently. Mabel lifts her head and looks at them woefully.

They embrace passionately. Mabel lifts her head and looks at them with sadness.

Mabel

[Jumping up and going toward them.] But what about me? What am I to do with my suppressed desire?

[Jumping up and walking over to them.] But what about me? What am I supposed to do with my unexpressed desire?

Steve

[With one arm still around Henrietta, gives Mabel a brotherly hug.] Mabel, you just keep right on suppressing it!

[With one arm still around Henrietta, gives Mabel a brotherly hug.] Mabel, just keep holding it in!

(Curtain)

Curtain

[273]

TICKLESS TIME
A COMEDY IN ONE ACT
(In Collaboration with George Cram Cook)
First performed by the Provincetown Players,
New York, December 20, 1918

TICKLESS TIME
A One-Act Comedy
(In Collaboration with George Cram Cook)
First performed by the Provincetown Players,
New York, December 20, 1918

ORIGINAL CAST

Ian Joyce, Who Has Made a Sun-dial	James Light
Eloise Joyce, Wedded to the Sun-dial	Norma Millay
Mrs. Stubbs, a Native	Jean Robb
Eddy Knight, a Standardized Mind	Hutchinson Collins
Alice Knight, a Standardized Wife	Alice MacDougal
Annie, Who Cooks by the Joyces’ Clock	Edna St. Vincent Millay

[275]

TICKLESS TIME

Scene: A garden in Provincetown. On the spectator’s right a two-story house runs back from the proscenium—a door towards the front, a second-story window towards the back. Across the back runs a thick-set row of sunflowers nearly concealing a fence or wall. Back of this are trees and sky. There is a gate at the left rear corner of the garden. People entering it come straight toward the front, down the left side and, to reach the house door, pass across the front of the stage. A fence with sunflowers like that at the back closes off the left wing of the stage—a tree behind this left fence.

Scene: A garden in Provincetown. On the spectator’s right, a two-story house extends back from the proscenium—there's a door at the front and a second-story window toward the back. A thick row of sunflowers runs along the back, nearly hiding a fence or wall. Behind this are trees and the sky. There's a gate at the left rear corner of the garden. People entering the garden come straight toward the front, move down the left side, and to get to the house door, they pass across the front of the stage. A fence lined with sunflowers similar to the one at the back encloses the left side of the stage—a tree stands behind this left fence.

The sun-dial stands on a broad step or pedestal which partly masks the digging which takes place behind it. The position of the sun-dial is to the left of the center of the stage midway between front and back.

The sun dial is on a wide step or base that partially hides the digging happening behind it. The sun dial is placed to the left of the center of the stage, halfway between the front and the back.

From behind the tree on the left the late afternoon sun throws a well-defined beam of light upon the horizontal plate of the sun-dial and upon the shaft which supports it. On this[276] shaft is the accompanying diagram: two feet high and clearly visible.

From behind the tree on the left, the late afternoon sun casts a sharp beam of light onto the flat surface of the sundial and the post that holds it up. On this[276] post is the accompanying diagram: two feet tall and clearly visible.

On the plate of the sun-dial stands the alarm-clock. A huge shovel leans against the wall of the house-corner at the back.

On the surface of the sundial sits the alarm clock. A large shovel rests against the corner of the house at the back.

Ian is at the sun-dial. He sights over the style to some distant stake left rear, marking the north. He then sights over the east and west line toward the six o’clock sun. Looks at shadow. Looks at alarm clock. Is intensely pleased.

Ian is by the sundial. He looks over the gnomon to a distant post in the back left, which marks north. Then he gazes along the east and west line towards the six o’clock sun. He checks the shadow. He glances at his alarm clock. He feels a deep sense of satisfaction.

Ian

[Turning toward house and calling excitedly.] Eloise! Oh, Eloise!

[Turning toward the house and calling excitedly.] Eloise! Oh, Eloise!

Eloise

[Inside house.] Hello!

[Inside house.] Hi!

Ian

Come quick! You’ll miss it.

Hurry! You’ll miss it.

Eloise

[Poking her head out of the second-story window; she cranes her neck to look straight up in the air.] What is it?

[Poking her head out of the second-story window; she leans her neck back to look straight up in the air.] What is it?

Ian

Come down here quick or you’ll miss it.

Come down here quick or you'll miss it.

Eloise

[Disappears from window. A moment later comes[277] running out, one braid of hair up and one braid down. Again looks wildly up in the air.] Where is it?

Ian

[Absorbed in the sun-dial.] Where’s what?

[Absorbed in the sun-dial.] Where is it?

Eloise

The airplane.

The plane.

Ian

Airplane? It’s the sun-dial. It’s right. Just look at this six o’clock shadow. [She goes around to the other side of it.] It’s absolutely, mathematically—you’re in the way of the sun, Eloise. [She steps aside.] Look! the style is set square on the true north—this is the fifteenth of June—the clock is checked to the second by telegraph with the observatory at Washington and see! the clock is exactly nineteen minutes and twenty seconds behind the shadow—the precise difference between Provincetown local time and standard Eastern time.

Airplane? It’s the sundial. It’s right. Just look at this six o’clock shadow. [She goes around to the other side of it.] It’s absolutely, mathematically—you’re blocking the sun, Eloise. [She steps aside.] Look! The style is perfectly aligned with true north—today is the fifteenth of June—the clock is synced to the second via telegraph with the observatory in Washington, and see! The clock is exactly nineteen minutes and twenty seconds behind the shadow—the exact difference between Provincetown local time and standard Eastern time.

Eloise

Then the sun-dial’s really finished—and working right! After all these, weeks! Oh, Ian!

Then the sundial is finally finished—and it's working properly! After all these weeks! Oh, Ian!

[Embraces him.

[Hugs him.

Ian

It’s good to get it right after all those mistakes. [With vision.] Why, Eloise, getting this right has been a symbol of man’s whole search for truth—the discovery and correction of error—the mind compelled to conform step by step to astronomical fact—to truth.

It’s great to finally get it right after all those mistakes. [With vision.] Why, Eloise, getting this right has been a symbol of humanity’s entire quest for truth—the discovery and correction of errors—the mind driven to align step by step with astronomical facts—towards the truth.

[278]

Eloise

[Going to it again.] And to think that it’s the sun-dial which is true and the clock—all the clocks—are wrong! I’m glad it is true. Alice Knight has been here talking to me for an hour. I want to think that something’s true.

[Going to it again.] And to think that the sun-dial is right and the clock—all the clocks—are wrong! I’m glad that’s true. Alice Knight has been here talking to me for an hour. I want to believe that something is true.

Ian

That’s just it, Eloise. The sun-dial is more than sun-dial. It’s a first-hand relation with truth. A personal relation. When you take your time from a clock you are mechanically getting information from a machine. You’re nothing but a clock yourself.

That’s just it, Eloise. The sundial is more than just a sundial. It’s a direct connection to the truth. A personal connection. When you check the time on a clock, you’re just mechanically getting information from a machine. You’re nothing but a clock yourself.

Eloise

Like Alice Knight.

Ian

But the sun-dial—this shadow is an original document—a scholar’s source.

But the sundial—this shadow is an original document—a scholar’s source.

Eloise

To tell time by the shadow of the sun—so large and simple.

To tell time by the shadow of the sun—it's so big and straightforward.

Ian

I wouldn’t call it simple. Here on this diagram I have worked out—

I wouldn't say it's simple. Here in this diagram I put together—

Eloise

Dearest, you know I can’t understand diagrams. But I get the feeling of it, Ian—the sun, the North star. I love to think that this [Placing her hands on the style] is set by the North star. [Her right hand remains on the style, her left prolongs its line heavenward.][279] Why, if I could go on long enough I’d get to the North star!

Dearest, you know I can’t understand diagrams. But I get the feeling of it, Ian—the sun, the North Star. I love to think that this [Placing her hands on the style] is set by the North Star. [Her right hand remains on the style, her left extends its line toward the sky.] [279] If I could keep going long enough, I’d reach the North Star!

Ian

[Impressively.] The line that passes along the edge of this style joins the two poles of the heavens. [Eloise pulls away her hand as one who fears an electric shock.] Look at this slow shadow and what you see is the spin of the earth on its axis. It is not so much the measure of time as time itself made visible.

[Impressively.] The line that runs along the edge of this style connects the two ends of the sky. [Eloise pulls away her hand as if she's afraid of an electric shock.] Observe this slow shadow and what you see is the earth rotating on its axis. It’s not just a way to measure time but time itself made visible.

Eloise

[Knitting her brows to get this: escaping to an impetuous generality.] Ian, which do you think is the more wonderful—space or time?

[Knitting her brows to get this: escaping to an impulsive generality.] Ian, which do you think is more amazing—space or time?

Ian

[Again sighting over his east and west lines. Good-humoredly.] Both are a little large for our approbation.

[Once again looking over his east and west lines. With a cheerful attitude.] Both are a bit too big for our approval.

Eloise

[Sitting on the steps and putting up the other braid.] Do you know, Ian, that’s the one thing about them I don’t quite like. You can’t get very intimate with them, can you? They make you so humble. That’s one nice thing about a clock. A clock is sometimes wrong.

[Sitting on the steps and putting up the other braid.] Do you know, Ian, that’s the one thing about them I don’t really like. You can’t get very close to them, can you? They make you feel so small. That’s one nice thing about a clock. A clock can be wrong sometimes.

Ian

Don’t you want to live in a first-hand relation to truth?

Don’t you want to have a direct connection to the truth?

Eloise

Yes; yes, I do—generally.

Yep; yeah, I usually do.

[280]

Ian

I have a feeling as of having touched vast forces. To work directly with worlds—it lifts me out of that little routine of our lives which is itself a clock.

I feel like I’ve connected with something huge. Working directly with different worlds— it takes me out of the daily grind of our lives, which is just like a clock.

Eloise

[Catching his exultation.] Let us be like this! Let us have done with clocks!

[Feeling his excitement.] Let’s be like this! Let’s stop using clocks!

Ian

Eloise, how wonderful! Can the clocks and live by the sun-dial? Live by the non-automatic sun-dial—as a pledge that we ourselves refuse to be automatons!

Eloise, that’s amazing! Can we follow the clocks and live by the sun-dial? Let’s live by the manual sun-dial—as a promise that we won’t turn into robots!

Eloise

Like Alice Knight. [She takes clock from dial and puts it face downward on the ground.] I shall never again have anything to do with a clock!

Like Alice Knight. [She takes the clock from the dial and puts it face down on the ground.] I will never deal with a clock again!

Ian

Eloise! How corking of you! I didn’t think you had it in you. [Raising his right hand.] Do you solemnly swear to live by the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

Eloise! That’s amazing of you! I didn’t think you had it in you. [Raising his right hand.] Do you promise to live by the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Eloise

[Her hand upon the sun-dial.] I swear.

[Her hand on the sundial.] I swear.

Ian

Bring them!

Eloise

Bring—?

Bring it on.

[281]

Ian

The clocks! Bring them! [Seizes the spade over by the house; begins to dig a grave behind the sun-dial.] Bring every one! We will bury the clocks before the sun-dial—an offering, a living sacrifice. I tell you this is great, Eloise. What is a clock? Something agreed upon and arbitrarily imposed upon us. Standard time. Not true time. Symbolizing the whole standardization of our lives. Clocks! Why, it is clockiness that makes America mechanical and mean! Clock-minded! A clock is a little machine that shuts us out from the wonder of time. [A large gesture with the shovel.] Who thinks of spinning worlds when looking at a clock? How dare clocks do this to us? But the sun-dial—because there was creation, because there are worlds outside our world, because space is rhythm and time is flow that shadow falls precisely there and not elsewhere! Bring them, Eloise! I am digging the graves of the clocks!

The clocks! Bring them! [Grabs the spade next to the house; starts digging a grave behind the sundial.] Bring everyone! We’re going to bury the clocks before the sundial—an offering, a living sacrifice. I’m telling you, this is amazing, Eloise. What is a clock? Just something we all agreed on and imposed on ourselves. Standard time. Not real time. It represents the whole standardization of our lives. Clocks! They’re what makes America so mechanical and harsh! Clock-minded! A clock is just a little machine that keeps us from experiencing the wonder of time. [A large gesture with the shovel.] Who thinks about spinning worlds when looking at a clock? How dare clocks do this to us? But the sundial—because there was creation, because there are worlds beyond our own, because space has rhythm and time flows so that shadow falls exactly there and not anywhere else! Bring them, Eloise! I’m digging the graves of the clocks!

[Eloise swept up by this ecstasy, yet frightened at what it is bringing her to, hesitates, then runs to house. Ian digs with rhythmic vigor. A moment later Eloise is seen peering down at him from window, in her arms a cuckoo clock. It begins to cuckoo, startling Eloise.

[Eloise caught up in this joy, yet scared of where it's leading her, hesitates, then rushes into the house. Ian digs with steady energy. A moment later, Eloise is seen looking down at him from the window, holding a cuckoo clock. It starts to cuckoo, surprising Eloise.]

Ian

That damned cuckoo!

That annoying cuckoo!

[282]

[A moment later Eloise comes out, bearing cuckoo clock and an old-fashioned clock. Ian’s back is to her; she has to pass the alarm clock, lying where she left it, prone on the ground. She hesitates, then carefully holding the other two clocks in one arm, she stealthily goes rear and puts the alarm clock behind the sunflowers. Then advances with the other two.

[A moment later Eloise comes out, holding a cuckoo clock and a vintage clock. Ian's back is to her; she has to step past the alarm clock, which is lying on the ground where she left it. She hesitates, then, carefully balancing the other two clocks in one arm, she quietly moves to the back and hides the alarm clock behind the sunflowers. Then she moves forward with the other two.]

Ian

[While digging.] Into these graves go all that is clock-like in our own minds. All that a clock world has made of us lies buried here!

[While digging.] Into these graves go all that is like a clock in our own minds. Everything a mechanical world has shaped us into is buried here!

[Eloise stands rather appalled at the idea of so much of herself going into a grave. Puts the old-fashioned clock carefully on the ground. Gingerly fits the cuckoo clock into the completed grave. With an exclamation of horror lifts it out of the grave. Listens to its tick. Puts her ear to the sun-dial; listens vainly.

Eloise is quite shocked at the thought of so much of herself being buried. She carefully places the old-fashioned clock on the ground. Tentatively, she fits the cuckoo clock into the finished grave. With a gasp of horror, she lifts it out of the grave. She listens to its ticking. She puts her ear to the sundial, listening in vain.

Eloise

The sun-dial doesn’t tick, does it, Ian?

The sun-dial doesn't tick, right, Ian?

Ian

Why should it tick?

Why should it work?

Eloise

Do you know, Ian, I [Timidly] I like to hear the ticking of a clock. [No reply. Eloise holds up the cuckoo clock.] This was a wedding present.

Do you know, Ian, I [Timidly] I like listening to the ticking of a clock. [No reply. Eloise holds up the cuckoo clock.] This was a wedding gift.

[283]

Ian

No wonder marriage fails.

No surprise marriage fails.

[He moves to take it from her.

He reaches to grab it from her.

Eloise

I wonder if we hadn’t better leave the cuckoo until tomorrow.

I wonder if we should just leave the cuckoo until tomorrow.

Ian

Flaming worlds! A cuckoo!

Flaming worlds! A crazy bird!

Eloise

Eddy and Alice gave us the cuckoo. You know they’re coming back. I asked them for dinner. They might not understand our burying their clock.

Eddy and Alice gave us the cuckoo clock. You know they’re coming back. I invited them for dinner. They might not get why we buried their clock.

Ian

Their failure to understand need not limit our lives.

Their inability to understand doesn't have to limit our lives.

[Puts the cuckoo clock in its grave and begins to cover it.

[Puts the cuckoo clock in its grave and starts to cover it.]

Eloise

[As the earth goes on.] I liked the cuckoo! I liked to see him popping out!

[As the earth goes on.] I liked the cuckoo! I enjoyed watching him pop out!

Ian

[Kindly.] You will grow, Eloise. You will go out to large things now that you have done with small ones.

[Kindly.] You will grow, Eloise. You will move on to bigger things now that you've finished with the smaller ones.

Eloise

I hope so. It will be hard on me if I don’t.

I hope so. It will be tough for me if I don't.

[284]

[Ian reaches for the other clock.

Ian grabs the other clock.

Eloise

[Snatching it.] Oh, Ian, I don’t think I ought to bury this one. It’s the clock my grandmother started housekeeping with!

[Snatching it.] Oh, Ian, I don’t think I should get rid of this one. It’s the clock my grandmother used when she first set up her home!

Ian

[Firmly taking clock.] And see what it did to her. Meticulous old woman!

[Firmly taking clock.] And see what it did to her. Detailed old woman!

[Puts it in its grave.

Puts it in its grave.

Eloise

You were glad enough to get her pies and buckwheat cakes.

You were happy enough to get her pies and buckwheat cakes.

Ian

She had all the small virtues. But a standardized mind. [Trampling down the grave.] She lacked scope. And now—a little grave for little clocks. [Takes out his watch, puts it in the grave.] Your watch, Eloise.

She had all the little virtues. But her thinking was so ordinary. [Trampling down the grave.] She didn’t have any depth. And now—a small grave for small clocks. [Takes out his watch, puts it in the grave.] Your watch, Eloise.

Eloise

[Holding to her wrist watch.] I thought I’d keep my watch, Ian. [Hastily.] For an ornament, you know.

[Holding to her wrist watch.] I thought I'd hold onto my watch, Ian. [Hastily.] As a piece of jewelry, you know.

Ian

We are going to let truth be your ornament, Eloise.

We’re going to let truth be your adornment, Eloise.

Eloise

Nobody sees truth. [With a fresh outburst.] This watch was my graduation present!

Nobody sees the truth. [With a fresh outburst.] This watch was my graduation gift!

Ian

Symbolizing all the standardized arbitrary things you were taught! Commemorating the clock-like way[285] your mind was made to run. Free yourself of that watch, Eloise. [Eloise reluctantly frees herself. Ian briskly covers the watches. Moves to the unfilled grave.] Is there nothing for this grave? [Eloise shakes her head.] Sure—the alarm clock!

Symbolizing all those standard, arbitrary things you were taught! Marking the mechanical way[285] your mind was conditioned to operate. Break free from that watch, Eloise. [Eloise hesitantly removes the watch. Ian quickly covers the watches and moves to the empty grave.] Is there nothing for this grave? [Eloise shakes her head.] Sure—the alarm clock!

Eloise

[Running to the sunflowers and spreading out her skirts before them.] Oh, Ian, not the alarm clock! How would we ever go to Boston? The train doesn’t run by the sun.

[Running to the sunflowers and spreading out her skirts before them.] Oh, Ian, not the alarm clock! How would we ever get to Boston? The train doesn’t run by the sun.

Ian

Then the train is wrong.

Then the train is off.

Eloise

But, Ian, if the train is wrong we have to be wrong to catch the train.

But, Ian, if the train is off, we have to be off to catch the train.

Ian

That’s civilization. [Stands resolutely by the grave.] The alarm clock, Eloise. The grave awaits it.

That’s civilization. [Stands resolutely by the grave.] The alarm clock, Eloise. The grave is waiting for it.

Eloise

[Taking it up, her arms folded around it.] I wanted to go to Boston and buy a hat!

Ian

The sun will fall upon your dear head and give you life.

The sun will shine down on you and give you life.

Eloise

[About to cry.] But no style! It ticks so loud and sure!

[About to cry.] But no style! It ticks so loudly and confidently!

[286]

Ian

All false things are loud and sure.

All lies are loud and confident.

Eloise

I need a tick! I am afraid of tickless time!

I need a clock! I'm scared of having no time!

[Holding the clock in both hands she places it against her left ear.

She holds the clock in both hands and puts it against her left ear.

Ian

[Spade still in his right hand, he places his left arm around her reassuringly.] You will grow, Eloise. You are growing.

[Spade still in his right hand, he puts his left arm around her for comfort.] You will grow, Eloise. You are growing.

[He takes the clock as he is saying this. She turns her head backward following the departing clock with surprised and helpless eyes. Disconsolately watches him bury it.

[He picks up the clock as he says this. She looks back, following the disappearing clock with shocked and helpless eyes. She sadly watches him bury it.]

Eloise

[An inspiration.] Ian! Couldn’t you fix the sun-dial to be set and go off?

[An inspiration.] Ian! Couldn’t you adjust the sundial to be set and go off?

Ian

[Pained.] “Set and go off?” [Pause; regards the sun.] Sine sole sileo.

[Pained.] “Get ready and leave?” [Pause; looks at the sun.] Sine sole sileo.

Eloise

What did you say, Ian?

Ian

I said: Sine sole sileo.

Eloise

Well, I don’t know what you say when you say that.

Well, I don’t know what you mean when you say that.

[287]

Ian

It’s a Latin motto I’ve just thought of for the sun-dial. It means, “Without sun, I am silent.” Silence is a great virtue. [Having finished the grave, he looks around, making sure there are no more clocks. Joyously.] Now we are freed! Eloise, think what life is going to be! Done with approximations. Done with machine thinking. In a world content with false time, we are true.

It’s a Latin motto I just came up with for the sundial. It means, “Without sun, I am silent.” Silence is a great virtue. [Having finished the grave, he looks around, making sure there are no more clocks. Joyously.] Now we are free! Eloise, imagine what life is going to be like! No more approximations. No more machine thinking. In a world satisfied with false time, we are true.

Eloise

[Sitting on the steps.] Yes, it’s beautiful. I want to be true. It’s just that it’s a little hard to be true in a false world. For instance, tomorrow I have an appointment with the dentist. If I come on sun-time I suppose I’ll be twenty minutes—

[Sitting on the steps.] Yes, it’s beautiful. I want to be genuine. It’s just that it’s a bit tough to be genuine in a fake world. For example, tomorrow I have a dentist appointment. If I arrive on time, I guess I’ll be twenty minutes—

Ian

[Eagerly. Going to the sun-dial and pointing.] If you will just let me explain this table—[Eloise shrinks back. Ian gives it up.] Oh, well, tell him you are living by the truth.

[Eagerly. Going to the sun-dial and pointing.] If you’ll just let me explain this table—[Eloise shrinks back. Ian gives it up.] Oh, well, tell him you’re living by the truth.

Eloise

I’m afraid he’ll charge me for it. And when we ask people for dinner at seven, they’ll get here at twenty minutes of seven. Or will it be twenty minutes after seven?

I’m worried he’ll make me pay for it. And when we invite people for dinner at seven, they’ll arrive at twenty minutes to seven. Or will it be twenty minutes after seven?

Ian

[Smoothing down graves.] It will be a part of eternal time.

[Smoothing down graves.] It will be a part of timelessness.

Eloise

Yes,—that’s true. Only the roast isn’t so eternal. Why do they have clocks wrong?

Yes,—that’s true. Only the roast isn’t that eternal. Why do they have the clocks set incorrectly?

[288]

Ian

Oh, Eloise, I’ve explained it so many times. You—living in Provincetown, three hundred miles to the eastward, are living by the mean solar time of Philadelphia. [Venomously.] Do you want to live by the mean solar time of Philadelphia?

Oh, Eloise, I've explained this so many times. You—living in Provincetown, three hundred miles to the east—are living by the mean solar time of Philadelphia. [Venomously.] Do you want to live by the mean solar time of Philadelphia?

Eloise

Certainly not. [An idea.] Then has Philadelphia got the right time?

Certainly not. [An idea.] So, does Philadelphia have the correct time?

Ian

It’s right six miles this side of Philadelphia.

It's exactly six miles this side of Philadelphia.

Eloise

We might move to Philadelphia.

We might relocate to Philadelphia.

[Enter through gate, Mrs. Stubbs, a Provincetown “native.”

[Enter through the gate, Ms. Stubbs, a Provincetown “local.”

Mrs. Stubbs

Now, Mr. Joyce, this sun clock,—is it running?

Now, Mr. Joyce, is this sun clock working?

Ian

It doesn’t “run,” Mrs. Stubbs. It is acted upon.

Mrs. Stubbs

Oh. Well, is it being acted upon?

Oh. So, is it being influenced?

Ian

As surely as the sun shines.

As surely as the sun is shining.

Mrs. Stubbs

[Looking at the sun.] And it is shining today, isn’t it? Well, will you tell me the time? My clock has stopped and I want to set it.

[Looking at the sun.] And it’s shining today, right? So, can you tell me the time? My clock is broken and I need to set it.

[289]

Ian

[Happily.] You hear, Eloise? Her clock has stopped.

[Happily.] Do you hear that, Eloise? Her clock has stopped.

Mrs. Stubbs

Ms. Stubbs

Yes, I forgot to wind it.

Eloise

[Grieved to think of any one living in such a world.] Wind it!

[Saddened to imagine anyone living in such a world.] Forget it!

Ian

Do you not see, Mrs. Stubbs, where the shadow falls? [She comes up the steps.] From its millions of spinn—You’re in the way of the sun, Mrs. Stubbs. [She steps aside.] Its millions of spinning miles the sun casts that shadow and here we know that it is eight minutes past six.

Do you not see, Mrs. Stubbs, where the shadow falls? [She comes up the steps.] From its millions of spinning miles—the sun casts that shadow, and here we know it is eight minutes past six.

Mrs. Stubbs

Now, ain’t that wonderful? Dear, dear, I wish Mr. Stubbs could make a sun clock. But he’s not handy around the house. Past six. Well, I must hurry back. They work tonight at the cold storage but Mr. Stubbs gets home for his supper at half past six.

Now, isn’t that great? Oh dear, I wish Mr. Stubbs could make a sundial. But he’s not very good with his hands. It’s past six. Well, I need to rush back. They’re working tonight at the cold storage, but Mr. Stubbs gets home for dinner at half past six.

[Starts away, reaching the gate.

Starts off, heading to the gate.

Eloise

[Running to her.] Oh, Mrs. Stubbs! Don’t get his supper by sun time. It wouldn’t be ready. It—[With a hesitant look at Ian] might get cold. [Mrs. Stubbs stares.] You see, Mr. Stubbs is coming home by the mean solar time of Philadelphia.

[Running to her.] Oh, Mrs. Stubbs! Don’t make his dinner ready by sunset. It won’t be done. It—[With a hesitant look at Ian] might get cold. [Mrs. Stubbs stares.] You see, Mr. Stubbs is coming home based on the local time in Philadelphia.

[290]

Mrs. Stubbs

[Loyal to Mr. Stubbs.] Who said he was?

[Loyal to Mr. Stubbs.] Who said that?

Eloise

[In distress.] Oh, it’s all so false! And arbitrary!

[In distress.] Oh, it’s all so fake! And random!

[To Ian.] But I think Mrs. Stubbs had better be false and arbitrary too. Mr. Stubbs might rather have his supper than the truth.

[To Ian.] But I believe Mrs. Stubbs should probably be dishonest and unreasonable as well. Mr. Stubbs might prefer to have his dinner over the truth.

Mrs. Stubbs

[Advancing a little.] What is this about my being false? And—arbitrary?

[Advancing a little.] What's this about me being fake? And—random?

Eloise

You see, you have to be, Mrs. Stubbs. We don’t blame you. How can you live by the truth if Mr. Stubbs doesn’t work by it?

You see, you have to be, Mrs. Stubbs. We don’t blame you. How can you live by the truth if Mr. Stubbs doesn’t follow it?

Mrs. Stubbs

This is the first word I ever heard said against Johnnie Stubbs’ way of freezin’ fish.

This is the first time I ever heard someone say something negative about Johnnie Stubbs' method of freezing fish.

Eloise

Oh, Mrs. Stubbs, if it were merely his way of freezing fish!

Oh, Mrs. Stubbs, if it were just his way of freezing fish!

Ian

Since you are not trying to establish a direct relation with truth, set your clock at five minutes of six. The clocks, as would be clear to you if you would establish a first-hand relation with this diagram, Eloise, are slow.

Since you're not trying to connect directly with the truth, set your clock to five minutes to six. The clocks, as you would see if you established a direct relationship with this diagram, Eloise, are running slow.

[291]

Mrs. Stubbs

You mean your sun clock’s wrong.

You mean your sundial is wrong.

Ian

All other clocks are wrong.

All other clocks are off.

Eloise

You live by the mean solar time of Philadelphia.

You follow the standard time of Philadelphia.

Mrs. Stubbs

I do no such thing!

I don’t do that!

Eloise

Yes, you do, Mrs. Stubbs. You see the sun can’t be both here and in Philadelphia at the same time. Now could it? So we have to pretend to be where it is in Philadelphia.

Yes, you do, Mrs. Stubbs. You see, the sun can't be both here and in Philadelphia at the same time. Right? So we have to pretend we are where it is in Philadelphia.

Mrs. Stubbs

Who said we did?

Who said we did that?

Eloise

Well, [After a look at Ian] the Government.

Mrs. Stubbs

Them congressmen!

Those congressmen!

Eloise

But Mr. Joyce and I—You’re standing on a grave, Mrs. Stubbs. [Mrs. Stubbs jumps.] The grave of my grandmother’s clock. [In reply to Mrs. Stubbs look of amazement.] Oh, yes! That clock has done harm enough. Mrs. Stubbs, think what time is—and then consider my grandmother’s clock! Tick, tick! Tick, tick! Messing up eternity like that!

But Mr. Joyce and I—You’re standing on a grave, Mrs. Stubbs. [Ms. Stubbs jumps.] The grave of my grandmother’s clock. [In response to Ms. Stubbs’ look of astonishment.] Oh, yes! That clock has caused enough trouble. Mrs. Stubbs, think about what time really is—and then think about my grandmother’s clock! Tick, tick! Tick, tick! Disturbing eternity like that!

[292]

Mrs. Stubbs

[After failing to think of anything adequate.] I must get Mr. Stubbs his supper!

[After struggling to come up with anything suitable.] I need to get Mr. Stubbs his dinner!

[Frightened exit.

Scared exit.

Ian

[Standing near house door.] Eloise, how I love you when feeling lifts you out of routine! Do you know, dearest, you are very sensitive in the way you feel feeling? Sometimes I think that to feel feeling is greater than to feel. You’re like the dial. Your sensitiveness is the style—the gnomon—to cast the shadow of the feeling all around you and mark what has been felt.

[Standing near house door.] Eloise, how I love you when your emotions break you free from the everyday! Do you know, my dear, that you are incredibly attuned to your feelings? Sometimes I think that being aware of your feelings is even more important than just feeling them. You’re like a dial. Your sensitivity is the style—the gnomon—that casts the shadow of emotion all around you and shows what has been felt.

[They embrace. Eddy and Alice open the gate.

They hug. Eddy and Alice open the gate.

Eddy

Ahem! [He comes down.] Ahem! We seem to have come ahead of time.

Ahem! [He comes down.] Ahem! It looks like we arrived early.

Eloise

Oh, Eddy! Alice! [Moving toward Eddy but not passing the dial.] We are living by sun time now. You haven’t arrived for twenty minutes.

Oh, Eddy! Alice! [Moving toward Eddy but not passing the dial.] We're on sun time now. You’ve been gone for twenty minutes.

Eddy

We haven’t arrived for twenty minutes? [Feeling of himself.] Why do I seem to be here?

We haven't been here for twenty minutes? [Feeling of himself.] Why do I feel like I'm here?

Alice

[Approaching dial.] So this is the famous sun-dial? How very interesting it is!

[Approaching dial.] So this is the famous sun dial? How interesting it is!

[293]

Eloise

It’s more than that.

It’s more than just that.

Alice

Yes, it’s really beautiful, isn’t it?

Eloise

It’s more than that.

It’s more than just that.

Eddy

Is it?

Is that true?

Eloise

It’s a symbol. It means that Ian and I are done with approximations arbitrarily and falsely imposed upon us.

It’s a symbol. It means that Ian and I are finished with the unrealistic and incorrectly imposed expectations placed on us.

Eddy

Well, I should think you would be. Who’s been doing that to you?

Well, I would think you would be. Who has been doing that to you?

Eloise

Don’t step on the graves, please, Alice.

Don’t walk on the graves, please, Alice.

Alice

[Starting back in horror.] Graves?

[Starting back in fear.] Graves?

Eloise

[Pointing down.] The lies we inherited lie buried there.

[Pointing down.] The lies we inherited are buried there.

Eddy

Well, I should think that might make quite a graveyard. So the sun-dial is built on lies.

Well, I think that could make quite a graveyard. So the sundial is based on lies.

[294]

Eloise

Indeed it is not!

It definitely isn't!

Alice

Does it keep time?

Does it tell time?

Ian

It doesn’t “keep” time. It gives it.

It doesn't "keep" time. It gives it.

Eddy

[Comparing with his watch.] Well, it gives it wrong. It’s twenty minutes fast.

[Comparing with his watch.] Well, it's off. It's twenty minutes fast.

[Ian and Eloise smile at one another in a superior way.

Ian and Eloise smile at each other in a condescending manner.

Alice

You couldn’t expect a home-made clock to be perfectly accurate. I think it’s doing very well to come within twenty minutes of the true time.

You can’t expect a homemade clock to be perfectly accurate. I think it’s doing really well to be within twenty minutes of the actual time.

Ian

It is true time.

It’s time.

Eloise

You think it’s twenty minutes fast because your puny, meticulous little watch is twenty minutes slow.

You think it’s twenty minutes fast because your tiny, precise little watch is actually twenty minutes slow.

Alice

Why is it, Eddy? [Comparing watches across the sun-dial.] No, Eddy’s watch is right by mine.

Why is that, Eddy? [Comparing watches across the sun-dial.] No, Eddy’s watch is right next to mine.

Ian

And neither of you is right by the truth.

And neither of you is correct about the truth.

[295]

Eloise

[Pityingly.] Don’t you know that you are running by the mean solar time of Philadelphia?

[Pityingly.] Don't you realize that you're operating on the standard time of Philadelphia?

Eddy

Well, isn’t everybody else running that way?

Well, isn’t everyone else going that way?

Eloise

Does that make it right?

Is that the right thing?

Eddy

I get you. You are going to cast off standard time and live by solar time.

I understand you. You're going to ditch standard time and follow solar time instead.

Eloise

Lies for truth.

Truth through deception.

Eddy

But how are you going to connect up with other people?

But how are you going to connect with other people?

Ian

We can allow for their mistakes.

We can accept their errors.

Eloise

We will connect with other people in so far as other people are capable of connecting with the truth!

We will connect with other people as much as they are able to connect with the truth!

Eddy

I’m afraid you’ll be awful lonesome sometimes.

I’m afraid you’ll feel really lonely at times.

Alice

But, Eloise, do you mean to say that you are going to insist on being right when other people are wrong?

But, Eloise, are you really saying that you’re going to insist on being right when others are wrong?

[296]

Eloise

I insist upon it.

I insist on it.

Alice

What a life!

Eddy

Come now, what difference does it make if we’re wrong if we’re all wrong together?

Come on, what does it matter if we’re wrong if we’re all wrong together?

Ian

That idea has made a clock of the human mind.

That idea has turned the human mind into a clock.

[Enter Annie.

Annie

Mrs. Joyce, can’t I have my clock back now? I don’t know when to start dinner.

Ian

[Consulting dial.] By true time, Annie, it is twenty minutes past six.

[Consulting dial.] According to the actual time, Annie, it’s twenty minutes after six.

Eloise

[Confidentially.] By false time, it is six.

[Confidentially.] By fake time, it's six.

Annie

I have to have my kitchen clock back.

I need to get my kitchen clock back.

[She looks around for it.

She searches for it.

Ian

We are done with clocks, Annie.

We're done with clocks, Annie.

Annie

You mean I’m not to have it back?

You mean I'm not getting it returned?

[297]

Eloise

It lies buried there.

It’s buried there.

Annie

Buried? My clock buried? It’s not dead!

Buried? My clock's buried? It's not dead!

Ian

It’s dead to us, Annie.

It's dead to us, Annie.

Annie

[After looking at the grave.] Do I get a new clock?

[After looking at the grave.] Am I getting a new clock?

Eloise

We are going to establish a first-hand relation with truth.

We are going to create a direct connection with the truth.

Annie

You can’t cook without a clock.

You can’t cook without a timer.

Ian

A superstition. And anyway—have you not the sun?

A superstition. And besides—don’t you have the sun?

Annie

[After regarding the sun.] I’d rather have a clock than the sun.

[After looking at the sun.] I’d prefer a clock to the sun.

[Returns to her clockless kitchen.

Returns to her kitchen without a clock.

Ian

That’s what clocks have made of the human mind.

That’s what clocks have turned the human mind into.

Eddy

[Coming to Ian.] Of course, this is all a joke.

[Coming to Ian.] Obviously, this is all a joke.

[298]

Ian

The attempt to reach truth has always been thought a joke.

The effort to find the truth has always been seen as a joke.

Eddy

But this isn’t any new truth! Why re-reach it?

But this isn’t any new truth! Why revisit it?

Ian

I’m reaching it myself. I’m getting the impact—as of a fresh truth.

I'm achieving it on my own. I'm feeling the effect—like a new reality.

Alice

But hasn’t it all been worked out for us?

But hasn’t it all been figured out for us?

Ian

And we take it never knowing—never feeling—what it is we take.

And we take it without ever knowing—without ever feeling—what it is we take.

Eloise

And that has made us the mechanical things we are!

And that's what has turned us into the mechanical beings we are!

Annie

[Frantically rushes in, peeling an onion.] Starting the sauce for the spaghetti. Fry onions in butter three minutes.

[Frantically rushes in, peeling an onion.] Starting the sauce for the spaghetti. Sauté onions in butter for three minutes.

[Wildly regards sun-dial—traces curved line of diagram with knife. Looks despairingly at the sun. Tears back into house.

[Wildly looks at the sundial—traces the curved line of the diagram with a knife. Looks hopelessly at the sun. Tears back into the house.]

Ian

You get no sense of wonder in looking at a clock.

You don't feel any sense of wonder when you look at a clock.

Alice

Yes, do you know, I do. I’ve always thought that[299] clocks were perfectly wonderful. I never could understand how they could run like that.

Yes, you know, I do. I’ve always thought that[299] clocks were absolutely amazing. I could never figure out how they worked like that.

Eloise

I suppose you know they run wrong?

I guess you know they’re running things wrong?

Eddy

What do you mean “run wrong?”

What do you mean by “run wrong?”

Eloise

Why, you are running by the mean solar time of Philadelphia! And yet here you are in Provincetown where the sun is a very different matter. You have no direct relation with the sun.

Why are you going by the average solar time of Philadelphia? And yet here you are in Provincetown, where the sun behaves very differently. You have no direct connection with the sun.

Eddy

That doesn’t seem to worry me much.

That doesn't really concern me.

Ian

No, it wouldn’t worry you, Eddy. You’re too perfect a product of a standardized world.

No, it wouldn’t concern you, Eddy. You’re too much a perfect product of a standardized world.

[Eddy bows acknowledgment.

Eddy nods in acknowledgment.

Annie

[Rushing out to look at dial.] Add meat, brown seven minutes.

[Rushing out to look at dial.] Add meat, brown for seven minutes.

[Measures seven minutes between thumb and finger, holds up this fragment of time made visible and carries it carefully into the house.

[Measures seven minutes between thumb and finger, holds up this fragment of time made visible and carries it carefully into the house.]

Eddy

That girl’ll get heart disease.

That girl will get heart disease.

[300]

Ian

Let her establish a first-hand relation to heat. If she’d take a look at the food instead of the clock—!

Let her develop a direct connection to heat. If she’d just focus on the food instead of the clock—!

Eddy

Trouble is we have to establish a first-hand relation with the spaghetti. [Eddy now comes down and regards the sun-dial. Moralizes.] If other people have got the wrong dope, you’ve got to have the wrong dope or be an off ox.

Trouble is we have to form a direct connection with the spaghetti. [Eddy now comes down and looks at the sun-dial. Reflects on it.] If other people have the wrong info, you either have to have the wrong info too or be left out.

Ian

Perfect product of a standardized nation!

Eddy

[Pointing with his stick.] What’s this standardized snake?

[Pointing with his stick.] What’s this standard snake?

Ian

That’s my diagram correcting the sun.

That’s my diagram adjusting the sun.

Eddy

Does one correct the sun?

Can you correct the sun?

Eloise

[From behind the dial.] Ian! Correcting the sun!

[From behind the dial.] Ian! Adjusting the sun!

Ian

You see there are only four days in the year when the apparent time is the same as the average time.

You see, there are only four days in the year when the apparent time matches the average time.

Eloise

[In growing alarm.] Do you mean to tell me the sun is not right with itself?

[In growing alarm.] Are you really saying the sun isn't okay with itself?

[301]

Ian

I’ve tried to explain it to you, Eloise, but you said you could get the feeling of it without understanding it. This curve [Pointing] marks the variation. Here today, you see, the shadow is “right” as you call it—that is, average. It will be right again here in September and again on December twenty-first.

I’ve tried to explain it to you, Eloise, but you said you could get the feeling of it without understanding it. This curve [Pointing] shows the variation. Here today, you see, the shadow is “right” as you call it—that is, average. It will be right again here in September and again on December twenty-first.

Alice

My birthday!

Eloise

Ian, you mean to say the sun only tells the right sun-time four days in the year?

Ian, are you saying the sun only tells the correct time four days a year?

Ian

It always tells the “right” sun-time, but here the said right sun-time is fifteen minutes behind its own average, and here it is sixteen minutes ahead. This scale here across the bottom shows you the number of minutes to add or subtract.

It always shows the “correct” sun-time, but here that correct sun-time is fifteen minutes behind its own average, and here it is sixteen minutes ahead. This scale at the bottom shows you how many minutes to add or subtract.

Eloise

[With bitterness.] Add! Subtract! Then you and your sun are false!

[With bitterness.] Add! Subtract! Then you and your sun are fake!

Ian

No, Eloise, not false. Merely intricate. Merely not regular. Machines are regular.

No, Eloise, not false. Just complicated. Just not ordinary. Machines are ordinary.

Eloise

You got me to bury the clocks and live by the sun—and now you tell me you have to fix up the sun.

You got me to bury the clocks and live by the sun—and now you say you have to fix up the sun.

[302]

Ian

It was you who said bury the clocks.

It was you who said to bury the clocks.

Eloise

I suppose you have to do something to the North star too!

I guess you have to do something about the North Star too!

Ian

Yes, the North star is not true north.

Yes, the North Star is not true north.

[He starts to point out its error, sighting over the style of the dial.

[He starts to point out its mistake, looking over the design of the dial.]

Eloise

What is true? What is true?

Ian

[With vision.] The mind of man.

[With vision.] The human brain.

Eloise

I think I’d better have a clock. [A new gust.] You told me I was to live by the sun and now—after the clocks are in their graves—what I am to live by is that snake.

I think I’d better get a clock. [A new gust.] You told me to live by the sun, and now—after the clocks are gone—I have to live by that snake.

[She points at diagram.

She points at the diagram.

Ian

You are a victim of misplaced confidence, Eloise. Sometimes when one feels things without understanding them, one feels the wrong thing. But there’s nothing to worry about. The sun and I can take care of the sun’s irregularities.

You are a victim of misplaced confidence, Eloise. Sometimes when you feel something without fully grasping it, you might feel the wrong way. But there’s nothing to worry about. The sun and I can handle the sun’s irregularities.

Eddy

Take heart, Eloise. It’s a standardized sun.

Take heart, Eloise. It’s a typical sun.

[303]

Ian

It’s not a blindly accepted sun!

It’s not a sun that’s just accepted without question!

Annie

[Who comes as one not to be put aside.] What’ll I do when it rains?

[Who comes as someone you can't ignore.] What will I do when it rains?

Ian

You’ll use your mind.

You'll use your brain.

Annie

To tell time by? [Looking to Eloise.] I think I’d better find another place.

To tell time by? [Looking to Eloise.] I think I should look for another spot.

Alice

[Coming forward, regarding this as a really serious matter.] No, don’t do that, Annie.

Eloise

[Tearfully.] You don’t know the wonders of your own mind!

[Tearfully.] You don’t realize the wonders of your own mind!

Annie

No, ma’m. [After a look at the sun, becomes terrified.] It’s going down!

No, ma'am. [After looking at the sun, becomes terrified.] It's going down!

Eddy

Yes, it goes down.

Yeah, it goes down.

Annie

How’ll we tell time when it’s dark?

How will we tell time when it's dark?

Ian

Sine sole sileo.

I am silent without the sun.

[304]

Annie

Is that saying how we’ll know when it’s time to go to bed?

Is that how we'll know when it's time to go to bed?

Ian

The doves know when to go to bed.

The doves know when it's time to go to bed.

Annie

The doves don’t go to the pictures.

The doves don't go to the movies.

Eloise

[Hysterically.] You’ll grow, Annie!

You’ll grow, Annie!

Annie

I’d rather have a clock!

[Exit.

[Leave.

Ian

She’d rather have a clock than grow.

She’d rather have a clock than to grow.

Alice

Now why can’t one do both?

Now, why can't you do both?

Ian

One doesn’t—that’s the answer. One merely has the clock. I’d rather be a fool than a machine.

One doesn’t—that’s the answer. One just has the clock. I’d rather be a fool than a machine.

Eddy

I never definitely elected to be either.

I never really chose to be either.

Ian

One can be both without electing either.

One can be both without choosing either.

[305]

Eloise

I want to hear the ticking of a clock!

Eddy

It’s a nice thing to hear. The ticking of a clock means the minds of many men. As long as the mind of man has to—fix up the facts of nature in order to create ideal time I feel it’s a little more substantial to have the minds of many men.

It’s nice to hear. The ticking of a clock reflects the thoughts of many people. As long as humanity needs to organize the facts of nature to create an ideal sense of time, I believe it’s more meaningful to have the thoughts of many people.

Alice

As I’ve told you before, Eloise, you can’t do better than accept the things that have been all worked out for you.

As I’ve said before, Eloise, you can’t do better than accept the things that have already been figured out for you.

Ian

You hear them, Eloise? You see where this defense of clocks is leading?

You hear that, Eloise? Can you see where this defense of clocks is going?

Eloise

Ian, I’m terribly worried—and a little hurt—about the sun. [As one beginning a dirge.] The sun has failed me. The North star is false.

Ian, I’m really worried—and a bit hurt—about the sun. [As one starting a funeral song.] The sun has let me down. The North Star is a lie.

Ian

[Going to her.] I am here, dearest.

[Going to her.] I'm here, my love.

Eloise

Sometimes you seem so much like space. I am running by the sun—that wobbly sun [Looking at it] and everyone else is running by Philadelphia. I want a little clock to tick to me!

Sometimes you feel so much like space. I'm racing past the sun—that wobbly sun [Looking at it] and everyone else is rushing past Philadelphia. I want a little clock to tick just for me!

[306]

Ian

You will grow, dearest.

You will grow, my dear.

Eloise

There’s no use growing. The things you grow to are wrong. [Pressing her hands to her head.] I need a tick in time!

There’s no point in growing. The things you grow into are wrong. [Pressing her hands to her head.] I need a break!

Ian

[Striding savagely from her.] Very well, then; dig up the clocks.

[Striding away from her angrily.] Alright then; dig up the clocks.

Eddy

Now you’re? talking!

Now you're talking!

[Eloise springs up.

Eloise jumps up.

Ian

Dig up the clocks! And we spend our lives nineteen minutes and twenty seconds apart!

[Eloise is arrested, appalled. Dreadful pause.

Eloise is arrested, shocked. Awkward pause.

Eloise

You mean we’d never get together?

You mean we’d never hang out?

Ian

Time would lie between us. I refuse to be re-caught into a clock world. It was you, Eloise, who proposed we give up the clocks and live in this first-hand relation to truth.

Time would stand between us. I won't let myself get trapped in a world of schedules again. It was you, Eloise, who suggested we ditch the clocks and embrace this direct connection to reality.

Eloise

I didn’t know I was proposing a first-hand relation with that snake!

I didn't realize I was suggesting a direct connection with that snake!

[307]

Ian

It’s not a snake! It’s a little piece of the long winding road to truth. It’s the discarding of error, the adjustment of fact. And I did it myself. And it puts me on that road. Oh, I know [To Eddy and Alice] how you can laugh if you yourself feel no need to feel truth. And you, Eloise, if you don’t want to feel time—return to your mean little clock. What is a clock? A clock is the soulless—

It’s not a snake! It’s a small part of the long winding road to truth. It’s about dropping the mistakes and fine-tuning the facts. And I did it myself. And it places me on that road. Oh, I know [To Eddie and Alice] how you can laugh if you don’t feel the need to feel the truth. And you, Eloise, if you don’t want to feel time—go back to your boring little clock. What is a clock? A clock is the soulless—

[The alarm clock enters a protest. Smothered sound of the alarm going off underground. Eloise screams.

[The alarm clock is going off in protest. The muffled sound of the alarm ringing can be heard from below. Eloise screams.

Eloise

The alarm clock! It’s going off!

The alarm clock's ringing!

Alice

Buried alive!

Eloise

Oh, no—oh, no! How terrible! Ian, how terrible!

Oh no—oh no! How awful! Ian, how awful!

[She runs to him. Alarm clock, being intermittent, goes off again.

She runs to him. The alarm clock, going off intermittently, sounds again.

Ian

Eloise, if you listen to the voice of that clock—!

Eloise, if you pay attention to the sound of that clock—!

Eddy

How bravely it tries to function in its grave!

How bravely it tries to operate in its grave!

Alice

The death struggle—the last gasp!

The death struggle—the final gasp!

[308]

[With another scream Eloise snatches spade, begins to dig; alarm clock gives another little gasp; spade is too slow for her: in her desperation goes to it with her hands. Gets it and, as she holds it aloft, the alarm clock rings its triumph.

[With another scream Eloise grabs a spade and starts digging; the alarm clock lets out another little gasp; the spade is too slow for her: in her desperation, she uses her hands. She gets it and, holding it up high, the alarm clock rings in triumph.]

Eloise

[Holding it to her ear.] It’s ticking! It ticks! It ticks! Oh, it’s good to hear the ticking of a clock!

[Holding it to her ear.] It’s ticking! It ticks! It ticks! Oh, it’s nice to hear the ticking of a clock!

[As he hears this, Ian, after a moment of terrible silence, goes and unscrews the plate of the sun-dial. All watch him, afraid to speak. He takes it off, holds it above the grave from which the alarm clock has been rescued.

As he hears this, Ian, after a moment of heavy silence, goes and unscrews the cover of the sundial. Everyone watches him, too afraid to say anything. He removes it and holds it above the grave from which the alarm clock has been taken.

Eloise

Ian! What are you doing? [He does not answer, but puts the sun-dial in the alarm clock’s grave.] Ian! No! No! Not that! Not your beautiful sun-dial! Oh, no! Not that!

Ian! What are you doing? [He doesn’t respond, but places the sun-dial in the alarm clock’s grave.] Ian! No! No! Not that! Not your beautiful sun-dial! Oh, no! Not that!

[Ian, having finished the burial of the sun-dial, sees the alarm clock and puts it on the pedestal from which the sun-dial has been taken.

[Ian, after burying the sun-dial, notices the alarm clock and places it on the pedestal where the sun-dial used to be.

Ian

We bow down, as of old, to the mechanical. We will have no other god but it.

We submit, just like in the past, to the mechanical. We will worship no other god but it.

[309]

[He then sits on the step, sunk in gloom. Annie appears, in her hand a panful of water.

[He then sits on the step, lost in sadness. Annie appears, holding a pan full of water.

Annie

This liver has to soak five minutes. I’ll soak it here. [Sees the alarm clock; with a cry of joy.] My clock! My clock! [Overcome with emotion.] Oh! My clock! My clock! Can I take it in the house to finish dinner?

This liver has to soak for five minutes. I'll soak it here. [Sees the alarm clock; with a cry of joy.] My clock! My clock! [Overcome with emotion.] Oh! My clock! My clock! Can I take it inside to finish dinner?

Eloise

[In a hopeless voice.] Yes, take it away.

[In a hopeless voice.] Yeah, go ahead and take it.

[Beaming, Annie bears it to her kitchen. Eloise now kneels behind the grave of the sun-dial.

[Smiling, Annie carries it to her kitchen. Eloise now kneels behind the grave of the sundial.

Eddy

Let us leave them alone with their dead.

Let’s leave them alone with their dead.

[Leads Alice to the corner of the house; they look off down the road. Eloise and Ian sit there on either side of the grave, swaying a little back and forth, as those who mourn.

[Leads Alice to the corner of the house; they gaze down the road. Eloise and Ian sit on either side of the grave, gently rocking back and forth, like those who are grieving.]

Eloise

[Looking at grave.] I had thought life was going to be so beautiful.

[Looking at grave.] I had thought life would be so beautiful.

Ian

It might have been.

Could be.

Eloise

[Looking at empty pedestal.] I suppose it will never be beautiful again.

[Looking at empty pedestal.] I guess it will never look beautiful again.

Ian

It cannot be beautiful again.

It can't be beautiful again.

[310]

[Suddenly, with a cry, Eloise gets up and darts to the house: comes racing back with the alarm clock, snatches spade, desperately begins to dig a grave.

Suddenly, with a shout, Eloise jumps up and runs to the house: she rushes back with the alarm clock, grabs a spade, and frantically starts digging a grave.

Eloise

Ian! Ian! Don’t you see what I’m doing? I’m willing to have a first-hand relation with the sun even though it’s not regular.

Ian! Ian! Don’t you see what I’m doing? I’m willing to have a direct connection with the sun even though it’s not normal.

[But Ian is as one who has lost hope. Eddy and Alice turn to watch the re-burial of the alarm clock. Annie strides in.

But Ian is like someone who has given up hope. Eddy and Alice turn to watch the re-burial of the alarm clock. Annie strides in.

Annie

[In no mood for feeling.] Where’s my alarm clock?

[Not in the mood for emotions.] Where’s my alarm clock?

Eloise

I am burying it.

I'm burying it.

Annie

Again? [Looks at sun-dial.] And even the sun-clock’s gone?

Again? [Looks at the sundial.] And the sundial is gone too?

Eddy

All is buried. Truth. Error. We have returned to the nothing from which we came.

All is buried. Truth. Mistakes. We have gone back to the nothingness we came from.

Annie

This settles it. Now I go. I leave.

This settles it. I'm leaving now.

[Firm with purpose re-enters the house.

[Determined, they step back into the house.]

Alice

[Excitedly.] Eloise! She means it!

Eloise! She's serious!

[311]

Eloise

[Dully.] I suppose she does.

[Dully.] I guess she does.

[Continues her grave digging.

Continues her grave-digging.

Alice

But you can’t get anybody else! You can’t get anybody now. Oh, this is madness. What does any of the rest of it matter if you have lost your cook? [To Ian.] Eloise can’t do the work! Peel potatoes—scrub. What’s the difference what’s true if you have to clean out your own sink? [Despairing of him she turns to Eloise.] Eloise, stop fussing about the moon and stars! You’re losing your cook!

But you can’t find anyone else! You can’t get anyone now. Oh, this is just crazy. What does anything else matter if you’ve lost your cook? [To Ian.] Eloise can’t handle the work! Peel potatoes—scrub. What’s the point of what’s true if you have to clean out your own sink? [Despairing of him she turns to Eloise.] Eloise, stop worrying about the moon and stars! You’re losing your cook!

[Annie comes from the house with suit-case, shawl-strap and hand-bag on long strings. Marches straight to left of stage, makes a face at the sun, marches to gate left rear and off.

[Annie walks out of the house with a suitcase, a bag slung over her shoulder, and a handbag on long straps. She heads directly to the left side of the stage, squints at the sun, then walks to the gate at the back left and exits.]

Alice

Eddy, go after her! Heavens! Has no one a mind? Go after her!

Eddy, go after her! Wow! Does no one have any sense? Go after her!

Eddy

What’s the good of going after her without a clock?

What’s the point of chasing after her without a watch?

Alice

Well, get a clock! For heaven’s sake, get a clock! Eloise, get off the grave of the alarm clock! [Eloise stands like a monument. To Eddy.] Well, there are graves all around you. Dig something else up. No! You call her back. I’ll—

Well, get a clock! For goodness' sake, get a clock! Eloise, get off the grave of the alarm clock! [Eloise stands like a monument. To Eddy.] Well, there are graves all around you. Dig something else up. No! You call her back. I’ll—

[312]

[Snatches spade, which is resting against sun-dial pedestal, begins to dig. Eddy stands at back, calling.

[Grabs the spade leaning against the sun-dial pedestal and starts to dig. Eddy stands at the back, calling.

Eddy

Annie! Oh, Annie! Wait, Annie!

Annie! Oh, Annie! Hold on, Annie!

Alice

[While frantically digging.] Say something to interest her, imbecile!

[While frantically digging.] Say something to catch her interest, idiot!

Eddy

[Stick in one hand, straw hat in the other, making wild signals with both.] Come home, Annie! Clock! Clock! [Giving up that job and throwing off his coat.] You interest her and I’ll dig.

[Stick in one hand, straw hat in the other, making wild signals with both.] Come home, Annie! Time's ticking! [Giving up that job and tossing off his coat.] You handle her, and I'll get to work.

[They change places.

They swap places.

Alice

She’s most to the bend! Eddy, don’t you know how to dig?

She’s closest to the bend! Eddy, don’t you know how to dig?

[Eddy, who has been digging with speed and skill, produces the clock with which Eloise’s grandmother started housekeeping. Starts to dash off with it.

[Eddy, who has been digging quickly and expertly, pulls out the clock that Eloise’s grandmother used when she began her household. He begins to run off with it.]

Eloise

[Dully.] That clock doesn’t keep time. Annie hates it.

[Dully.] That clock is never on time. Annie hates it.

Ian

[As if irritated by all this inefficiency.] What she wants is the alarm clock. Get off the grave, Eloise.

[As if annoyed by all this inefficiency.] What she wants is the alarm clock. Get off the grave, Eloise.

[313]

[He disinters alarm clock and with it runs after Annie. Alice draws a long breath and rubs her back. Eddy brings the clock he dug up and sets it on the pedestal. Then he looks down at the disturbed graves.

He digs up the alarm clock and runs after Annie. Alice takes a deep breath and rubs her back. Eddy brings the clock he unearthed and places it on the pedestal. Then he looks down at the disturbed graves.

Eddy

Here’s a watch! [Lifts it from the grave; holds it out to Eloise; she does not take it. He puts it on the pedestal beside the clock.] Here’s another watch. [Holds up Ian’s watch.] Quite a valuable piece of ground.

Here’s a watch! [Lifts it from the grave; holds it out to Eloise; she doesn’t take it. He puts it on the pedestal beside the clock.] Here’s another watch. [Holds up Ian's watch.] Quite a valuable piece of land.

[Now is heard the smothered voice of a cuckoo.

[Now we can hear the muffled voice of a cuckoo.]

Alice

[Jumping.] What’s that?

[Jumping.] What’s this?

Eloise

The cuckoo. I suppose it’s lonesome.

The cuckoo. I guess it must be lonely.

Alice

[Outraged.] Cuckoo! [Pointing.] In that grave? The cuckoo we gave you? [Eloise nods.] You buried our wedding present? [Eloise again nods. Eddy and Alice draw together in indignation.] Well, I must say, the people who try to lead the right kind of lives always do the wrong thing. [Stiffly.] I am not accustomed to having my wedding presents put in graves. Will you please dig it up, Eddy? It will do very well on the mantel in our library. And my back nearly broken digging for your cook!

[Outraged.] Cuckoo! [Pointing.] In that grave? The cuckoo we gave you? [Eloise nods.] You buried our wedding gift? [Eloise again nods. Eddy and Alice draw together in indignation.] Well, I have to say, people who try to live the right way always end up doing the wrong thing. [Stiffly.] I’m not used to having my wedding gifts buried. Can you please dig it up, Eddy? It will look great on the mantel in our library. And my back is nearly broken from digging for your cook!

[314]

[She holds her back. While Eddy is digging up the cuckoo, Annie and Ian appear and march across from gate to house, Annie triumphantly bearing her alarm clock, Ian—a captive at her chariot wheels—following with suit-case, shawl strap and long strings of bag around his wrist. A moment later Ian comes out of the house, looks at each dug-up thing, stands by the grave of the sun-dial. Enter Mrs. Stubbs.

[She holds her back. While Eddie is digging up the cuckoo, Annie and Ian show up and walk from the gate to the house, Annie proudly carrying her alarm clock, with Ian—a captive in her wake—following with a suitcase, shawl strap, and long strings of bags around his wrist. A moment later, Ian comes out of the house, looks at each thing that was dug up, and stands by the grave of the sun-dial. Enter Ms. Stubbs.]

Mrs. Stubbs

Oh, Mr. Joyce, I’ve come to see your sun-clock again. Mr. Stubbs says he’ll not be run from Philadelphia. He says if you have got the time straight from the sun—[Sees that the sun-dial is gone.] Oh, do you take it in at night?

Oh, Mr. Joyce, I’ve come to check out your sundial again. Mr. Stubbs says he won’t be chased out of Philadelphia. He says if you have the time correct from the sun—[Notices that the sundial is missing.] Oh, do you bring it inside at night?

Ian

The sun-dial lies buried there.

The sundial is buried there.

Mrs. Stubbs

You’ve buried the sun-clock? And dug up all the wrong clocks? [With a withering glance at Eloise.] That’s how a smart man’s appreciated! What did you bury it for, Mr. Joyce?

You’ve buried the sundial? And dug up all the wrong clocks? [With a sharp look at Eloise.] That’s how a smart guy gets appreciated! Why did you bury it, Mr. Joyce?

[Eddy gives the cuckoo clock to Alice.

Eddy gives the cuckoo clock to Alice.

Ian

It cannot live in this world where no one wants truth or feeling about truth. This is a world for clocks.

It can't exist in this world where no one values truth or genuine feelings about truth. This is a world for clocks.

Mrs. Stubbs

Well, I want truth! And so does Johnnie Stubbs![315] If you’ll excuse my saying so, Mr. Joyce, after you’ve made a thing that’s right you oughtn’t to bury it, even if there is nobody to want it. And now that I want it—[Mrs. Stubbs takes the spade and begins to dig up the sun-dial. Ian cannot resist this and helps her. He lifts the sun-dial, she brushes it off and he fits it to its place on the pedestal.] Now there it is, Mr. Joyce, and as good as if it had never seen the grave. [She looks at the setting sun.] And there’s time for it to make its shadow before this sun has gone.

Well, I want the truth! And so does Johnnie Stubbs![315] If you’ll allow me to say this, Mr. Joyce, once you’ve created something that’s right, you shouldn't just hide it away, even if no one wants it. And now that I want it—[Mrs. Stubbs picks up the spade and starts to dig up the sundial. Ian can't help but join her and assists. He lifts the sundial, she cleans it off, and he places it back on the pedestal.] There it is, Mr. Joyce, just as good as if it had never been buried. [She gazes at the setting sun.] And there's still time for it to cast its shadow before the sun sets.

Ian

The simple mind has beauty.

A simple mind is beautiful.

Eloise

[Coming to him.] I want to be simpler.

[Coming to him.] I want to be more straightforward.

Mrs. Stubbs

Now what time would you say it was, Mr. Joyce?

Now, what time would you say it is, Mr. Joyce?

Ian

I would say it was twenty minutes of seven, Mrs. Stubbs.

I’d say it was twenty minutes to seven, Mrs. Stubbs.

Mrs. Stubbs

[Looking at Eddy and Alice and the cuckoo clock.] And they would say it was twenty minutes past six! Well, I say: let them that want sun time have sun time and them that want tick time have tick time.

[Looking at Eddie and Alice and the cuckoo clock.] And they would say it was twenty minutes past six! Well, I say: let those who want sunshine hours have sunshine hours, and those who want clock hours have clock hours.

[Annie appears at the door.

Annie is at the door.

Annie

[In a flat voice.] It’s dinner time!

[In a flat voice.] It’s time for dinner!

(Curtain)

Curtain

Transcriber’s Notes:

The one illustration has been moved to a paragraph break near where it is mentioned.

The illustration has been relocated to a paragraph break close to where it is referred to.

Punctuation has been made consistent.

Punctuation is now consistent.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been kept as they appear in the original publication, except that clear typographical errors have been fixed.

The following change was made:

The following update was made:

p. 255: Steve changed to Henrietta (Henrietta? Henrietta Why,)

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__: Steve changed to Henrietta (Henrietta? Henrietta Why,)

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PLAYS

CONTENTS

TRIFLES

THE PEOPLE

CLOSE THE BOOK

THE OUTSIDE

WOMAN’S HONOR

BERNICE

ACT ONE

ACT TWO

ACT THREE

SUPPRESSED DESIRES

TICKLESS TIME

Transcriber’s Notes: