This is a modern-English version of A message from Mars : A fantastic comedy in three acts, originally written by Ganthony, Richard.
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A MESSAGE FROM
MARS
A MESSAGE FROM
MARS
A FANTASTIC COMEDY IN THREE ACTS
A FANTASTIC COMEDY IN THREE ACTS
BY
RICHARD GANTHONY
BY RICHARD GANTHONY
Copyright, 1900, by Richard Ganthony
Copyright, 1927 (In Renewal) by Bonita L. Ganthony
Rewritten and Revised, 1923, by Richard Ganthony
Copyright, 1923, by Richard Ganthony
Copyright, 1900, by Richard Ganthony
Copyright, 1927 (In Renewal) by Bonita L. Ganthony
Rewritten and Revised, 1923, by Richard Ganthony
Copyright, 1923, by Richard Ganthony
All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved
CAUTION:—Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that “A MESSAGE FROM MARS,” being fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, the British Empire, including the Dominion of Canada, and all the other countries of the Copyright Union is subject to a royalty, and anyone presenting the play without the consent of the owners or their authorized agents will be liable to the penalties by law provided. Applications for the Professional and Amateur acting rights must be made to Samuel French, 25 West 45th Street, New York, N. Y.
CAUTION:—Both professionals and amateurs are hereby informed that “A MESSAGE FROM MARS” is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, the British Empire (including Canada), and all other countries in the Copyright Union. It is subject to a royalty, and anyone performing the play without permission from the owners or their authorized agents will face legal penalties. Applications for professional and amateur acting rights should be sent to Samuel French, 25 West 45th Street, New York, NY.
New York
SAMUEL FRENCH
publisher
25 West 45th Street
New York SAMUEL FRENCH publisher 25 West 45th Street
London
SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd.
26 Southampton Street
STRAND, W.C.2
London SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 26 Southampton Street STRAND, W.C.2
Especial notice should be taken that the possession of this book without a valid contract for production first having been obtained from the publisher, confers no right or license to professionals or amateurs to produce the play publicly or in private for gain or charity.
Special notice should be taken that having this book without first obtaining a valid production contract from the publisher does not give any right or license to professionals or amateurs to perform the play publicly or privately for profit or charity.
In its present form this play is dedicated to the reading public only, and no performance, representation, production, recitation, or public reading, or radio broadcasting may be given except by special arrangement with Samuel French, 25 West 45th Street, New York.
In its current version, this play is meant solely for the reading public, and no performances, representations, productions, recitations, public readings, or radio broadcasts are allowed unless arranged specifically with Samuel French, 25 West 45th Street, New York.
This play may be presented by amateurs upon payment of a royalty of Twenty-Five Dollars for each performance, payable to Samuel French, 25 West 45th Street, New York, one week before the date when the play is given.
This play can be performed by amateurs for a royalty fee of Twenty-Five Dollars for each performance, payable to Samuel French, 25 West 45th Street, New York, one week before the performance date.
Professional royalty quoted on application to Samuel French, 25 West 45th Street, New York, N. Y.
Professional royalty quoted on application to Samuel French, 25 West 45th Street, New York, NY.
Whenever the play is produced the following notice must appear on all programs, printing and advertising for the play: “Produced by special arrangement with Samuel French of New York.”
Whenever the play is produced, the following notice must appear on all programs, print materials, and advertisements for the play: “Produced by special arrangement with Samuel French of New York.”
Attention is called to the penalty provided by law for any infringement of the author’s rights, as follows:
Attention is drawn to the penalty established by law for any violation of the author’s rights, as follows:
“Section 4966:—Any person publicly performing or representing any dramatic or musical composition for which copyright has been obtained, without the consent of the proprietor of said dramatic or musical composition, or his heirs and assigns, shall be liable for damages thereof, such damages, in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dollars for every subsequent performance, as to the court shall appear to be just. If the unlawful performance and representation be wilful and for profit, such person or persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction shall be imprisoned for a period not exceeding one year.”—U. S. Revised Statutes: Title 60, Chap. 3.
“Section 4966:—Any person publicly performing or representing any dramatic or musical work that is copyrighted, without the permission of the owner or their heirs and assigns, will be liable for damages. These damages will be assessed at no less than one hundred dollars for the first performance and fifty dollars for each subsequent performance, as decided by the court. If the unauthorized performance is intentional and for profit, that person or persons will be charged with a misdemeanor and, if convicted, can be sentenced to up to one year in prison.”—U. S. Revised Statutes: Title 60, Chap. 3.
CHARACTERS
| Horace Parker | ||
| Aunt Martha (Ms. Parker) | ||
| Minnie Templar, Adopted sister to Horace | ||
| Arthur Dicey | ||
| Bella, Servant at the Parkers | ||
| A homeless person | ||
| A Messenger from Mars | ||
| Ms. Clarence | ||
| Sir Edward Vivian, An Astronomer | } | Guests of Ms. Clarence |
| 1st Gent | } | |
| 2nd Gentleman | } | |
| Other individuals | } | |
| Footman, At Mrs. Clarence’s | ||
| Dr. Chapman's | ||
| A Woman Shunned | ||
| A police officer | ||
| A Newsie | ||
| An Injured Man | } | Crowd in Street Accident |
| Polly, his wife | } | |
| 1st Guy | } | |
| 2nd Guy | } | |
| Paramedic Doctor | } | |
| Other People | } | |
| 1st Worker | } | Refugees from a fire |
| First Female Employee | } | |
| Second Working Woman | } | |
| Girl Caring for a Baby | } | |
| An Elderly Couple | } | |
| Other Workers and Babies | } | |
Scene: London.
Scene: London.
Time: The Present.
Time: Now.
| ACT | I. | A room in Horace Parker's house. 9 p.m. |
| ACT | II. | (A Dream) Outside Mrs. Clarence’s house. |
| ACT | III. | Same as Act I. The same evening. |
ACT I
Horace Parker’s house, London, W. A living room with doors R. and L. Large window C. with curtains to draw. A sofa in front of window. A coat rack, or closet with curtain, containing three overcoats of Horace’s and golf caps and sticks, L. Table L. on which are whiskey bottle, syphons, glasses, and jar of biscuits. On R. is a fireplace with fire burning. Up of fire is small stand. Below is a chair. A table in front of fire with armchair between it and fire. Another chair L. of table. A large standing oil lamp near table R. with red shade. This should have a greenish figure on a classical style, represented as holding or steadying the lamp standard. This figure is supposed to become the Messenger from Mars in the dream, only enlarged. The figure can, however, be omitted.
Horace Parker's house, London, W. A living room with doors R. and L. A large window C. with curtains that can be drawn. A sofa in front of the window. A coat rack or closet with a curtain, containing three of Horace's overcoats and golf caps and clubs, L. A table L. with a whiskey bottle, siphons, glasses, and a jar of biscuits. On R. is a fireplace with a fire burning. Above the fire is a small stand. Below it is a chair. A table in front of the fire with an armchair between it and the fire. Another chair L. of the table. A large standing oil lamp near the table R. with a red shade. This should have a greenish figure in a classical style, depicted as holding or steadying the lamp standard. This figure is meant to represent the Message from Mars in the dream, only larger. However, the figure can be omitted.
At Rise: Enter Bella R. Lights lamp or turns it up. Draws curtains. Attends to fire, and exits L. Enter Minnie Templar, dressed for a ball, followed by Aunt Martha R.
At Dawn: Enter Bella R. She lights the lamp or turns it up. Draws the curtains. Tends to the fire, and exits L. Enter Minnie Templar, dressed for a ball, followed by Aunt Martha R.
Minnie. (Looking about her) He’s not here!
Minnie. (Looking around) He isn’t here!
Aunt. Not here?
Aunt. Not around?
Minnie. No. Where can he be?
Minnie. No. Where could he be?
Aunt. (At fire) Extraordinary!
Aunt. (At fire) Amazing!
Minnie. Auntie, we shall be late. Do you hear? We shall be late.
Minnie. Auntie, we're going to be late. Do you hear me? We're going to be late.
Aunt. Yes, dear, I think you will.
Auntie. Yes, sweetie, I believe you will.
Minnie. He promised to go, didn’t he?
Minnie. He said he would go, right?
Aunt. Yes, dear, he certainly did.
Aunt. Yes, dear, he really did.
Minnie. I do call it a shame. Horace is the meanest, most selfish——
Minnie. I really think it's a shame. Horace is the most selfish, most inconsiderate——
Aunt. Quite right, dear, he is.
Aunt. That's right, dear, he is.
Minnie. He thinks of nothing but his books, and his papers, and his horrid little stars.
Minnie. He thinks about nothing except his books, his papers, and his terrible little stars.
Aunt. Quite true, dear, he does.
Aunt. It's true, dear, he does.
Minnie. Then why do you let him do it?
Minnie. So why do you let him get away with it?
Aunt. I?
Aunt? Me?
Minnie. Yes, you. You know he is engaged to me, and yet you allow him to treat me as if we had been married for years. (Up to window.)
Minnie. Yes, you. You know he’s engaged to me, and yet you let him treat me like we’ve been married for years. (Up to window.)
Aunt. My dear Minnie—(Sits L. of table)—if Horace is a little thoughtless, surely it isn’t my fault. I suppose he has forgotten all about the dance——
Auntie. My dear Minnie—(Sits L. of table)—if Horace is a bit careless, it’s definitely not my fault. I guess he’s completely forgotten about the dance——
Minnie. Forgotten! (Comes C.) I’ll tell you what it is. Aunt Martha, you will have to go instead. (Goes to fire.)
Minnie. Forgotten! (Comes C.) I’ll tell you what it is. Aunt Martha, you’ll have to go instead. (Goes to fire.)
Aunt. Minnie, I can’t. You know, dear, it is quite impossible.
Auntie. Minnie, I can’t. You know, dear, it’s just not possible.
Minnie. Impossible? Why?
Minnie. Impossible? Why not?
Aunt. Well, dear, you know that horrid Louise hasn’t sent home my dress.
Auntie. Well, dear, you know that awful Louise hasn’t sent my dress back home.
Minnie. Nonsense, Aunt Martha. You’ve lots of dresses.
Minnie. That's ridiculous, Aunt Martha. You have plenty of dresses.
Aunt. Not one fit to be seen. You know that perfectly well.
Aunt. Not a single one that’s worthy of being seen. You know that really well.
Minnie. There’s your plum-colored silk——
Minnie. Here’s your plum silk——
Aunt. My dear child. I wore that all last winter.
Aunt. My dear child. I wore that all last winter.
Minnie. Only about three times. Then there’s your yellow satin.
Minnie. Just around three times. Then there’s your yellow satin.
Aunt. You know I look a perfect fright in that. Yellow doesn’t suit me.
Auntie. You know I look terrible in that. Yellow isn’t my color.
Aunt. My dear, I would have gone with pleasure if that odious Louise hadn’t disappointed me. But you wouldn’t have me make an exhibition of myself. One must have some pride.
Auntie. My dear, I would have happily gone if that terrible Louise hadn’t let me down. But you wouldn’t want me to embarrass myself. One has to have some pride.
Minnie. Pride? You’re all pride. I do believe if the house were on fire, and you cut off in a top room, you’d decline the fire-escape unless you were dressed in the latest Paris fashion. (Goes up to window.)
Minnie. Pride? You’re nothing but pride. I honestly think if the house were on fire and you were stuck on the top floor, you’d refuse to use the fire escape unless you were wearing the latest fashion from Paris. (Goes up to window.)
Aunt. Well, upon my word, dear, you are not very polite. I must say that I am very sorry that you should be disappointed about your dance, but I don’t believe you’d have cared so very much if you hadn’t known you were wearing a particularly pretty frock.
Auntie. Well, honestly, dear, you’re not being very polite. I’m really sorry you’re disappointed about your dance, but I don’t think you’d have cared as much if you hadn’t known you were wearing a particularly pretty dress.
Minnie. It isn’t that at all.
Minnie. That’s not it at all.
Aunt. But it is—a very pretty frock. And it suits you quite wonderfully.
Auntie. But it is—a really cute dress. And it looks great on you.
Minnie. Does it, Auntie? (Coming to Aunt.) What I meant was I go for the dancing—principally. I do love dancing. Auntie, don’t you think you could manage? (Kisses her. Front door heard to slam.) Ah, that must be Horace.
Minnie. Does it, Auntie? (Approaching Auntie.) What I meant is that I go for the dancing—mainly. I really love dancing. Auntie, don’t you think you could give it a try? (Kisses her. The front door slams.) Ah, that must be Horace.
(Enter Horace R. in fur coat. Minnie runs to him and kisses him. Horace puts copy of “The Astronomer” on table.)
(Enter Horace R. in a fur coat. Minnie runs to him and kisses him. Horace puts a copy of "The Astronomer" on the table.)
Minnie. Oh, Horace!
Minnie. Oh, Horace!
Horace. Beastly cold. (Goes to fire.)
Horace. Freezing cold. (Goes to fire.)
Minnie. Horace, I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve been waiting such a time.
Minnie. Horace, I’m so happy you’re here. We’ve been waiting for quite a while.
Horace. Waiting? What for?
Horace. Waiting? For what?
Minnie. Why, for you.
Minnie. Why, for you?
Aunt. Have you got a cab?
Aunt. Do you have a cab?
Horace. Cab? What for?
Cab? Why?
Aunt. Well, you know the horses are coughing.
Auntie. Well, you know the horses are coughing.
Horace. Coughing. No wonder—everybody’s coughing, this beastly weather. I’m coughing—— (Coughs.)
Horace. Coughing. No surprise—everyone's coughing in this awful weather. I'm coughing—— (Coughs.)
Minnie. (At top of table) Poor dear. How good of you to go out. When will it be here?
Minnie. (At top of table) Poor thing. That was really nice of you to go out. When will it arrive?
Horace. What?
Horace. What’s up?
Minnie. The cab.
Minnie. The taxi.
Horace. I don’t know what you are talking about.
Horace. I have no idea what you're talking about.
Aunt. That odious Louise hasn’t sent home my dress. But there, you two will be all right without me.
Auntie. That awful Louise hasn’t sent my dress home. But you two will be fine without me.
Horace. Without you? Oh, yes, we’ll manage. (Taking off coat—puts it down on chair R. below fireplace.)
Horace. Without you? Oh, yeah, we’ll be fine. (Taking off coat—puts it down on the chair R. below the fireplace.)
Minnie. Oh, Auntie, he isn’t dressed yet.
Minnie. Oh, Auntie, he’s not dressed yet.
Aunt. Horace, you’ll be late. You’ll miss ever so many dances.
Auntie. Horace, you’re going to be late. You’ll miss so many dances.
Horace. What on earth are you talking about?
Horace. What are you saying?
Aunt. Aren’t you going to the Clarences’ dance?
Auntie. Aren’t you going to the Clarences' party?
Horace. Certainly not.
Horace. Definitely not.
Minnie. Oh, Horace!
Minnie. Oh, Horace!
Aunt. But you are not going to disappoint Minnie!
Auntie. But you’re not going to let Minnie down!
Minnie. Horace, please.
Minnie. Horace, come on.
Aunt. Mrs. Clarence will be offended if none of us go.
Auntie. Mrs. Clarence will be upset if none of us go.
Horace. Well, then, go, by all means. There’s nothing to prevent you.
Horace. Well, go ahead. There’s nothing stopping you.
Aunt. But Minnie can’t go without you.
Auntie. But Minnie can’t leave without you.
Horace. Why not?
Horace. Why not?
Minnie. Auntie’s dress hasn’t come from Louise’s, so she can’t go.
Minnie. Auntie's dress hasn't come from Louise's, so she can't go.
Aunt. You promised to take her.
Aunt. You promised to take her.
Horace. I’m not going out again to-night.
Horace. I'm not going out again tonight.
Minnie. Oh, Horace, how unkind!
Minnie. Oh, Horace, that's harsh!
Aunt. I call it perfectly mean.
Aunt. I think it’s cruel.
Horace. It is much too cold. Besides, I want to read.
Horace. It's way too cold. Also, I want to read.
Aunt. I never knew anyone as selfish as you, Horace.
Auntie. I've never met anyone as selfish as you, Horace.
Horace. Well, what keeps you? Why don’t you go?
Horace. So, what’s holding you up? Why not just go?
Aunt. You know I can’t. I haven’t got a dress.
Auntie. You know I can’t. I don’t have a dress.
Horace. Well, go without it.
Horace. Fine, go without it.
Aunt. Horace!
Aunt. Horace!
Horace. I mean, you can easily find one that will do.
Horace. I mean, you can easily find one that will work.
Aunt. I think men are perfect fools. One that will do, indeed. Now don’t speak to me any more.
Auntie. I think men are complete idiots. One will do just fine. Now, don't talk to me anymore.
Horace. Kindly listen to me. In spite of my frightful cough—(Slight cough)—I’ve been out in the bitter snow to get this copy of the “Astronomer.” It contains an article on life on the planet Mars, in which you know I am much interested. And you ask me to put on thin dress clothes and go out again, and run tremendous risks with my delicate throat and supersensitive lungs, and all for what? To see a lot of fools capering about and making idiots of themselves until four or five in the morning. I think you are most inconsiderate—
Horace. Please listen to me. Despite my awful cough—(Slight cough)—I ventured out into the freezing snow to grab this copy of the “Astronomer.” It has an article about life on Mars, which you know I’m really interested in. And you're asking me to put on thin dress clothes and go out again, risking my fragile throat and sensitive lungs, all for what? To watch a bunch of fools dancing around and making fools of themselves until four or five in the morning? I think you’re being really inconsiderate—
Aunt. Horace——
Aunt Horace.
Horace.—and unreasonable, and selfish.
Horace.—and unreasonable and selfish.
Aunt. The impertinence of the man.
Aunt. The audacity of the guy.
Minnie. Oh, never mind. I didn’t understand that you had anything in particular to do.
Minnie. Oh, it’s fine. I didn't realize you had something specific to take care of.
Horace. Now, there’s a sensible little girl.
Horace. Now, there’s a smart little girl.
Minnie. Sit down here—(Armchair)—and make yourself thoroughly comfortable.
Minnie. Sit down here—(Armchair)—and get completely comfortable.
Horace. (Sitting down, but feeling in all his pockets) One who realizes that one cannot always be running about from place to place, neglecting the serious interests of life.
Horace. (Sitting down, but feeling in all his pockets) Someone who understands that you can't constantly be moving from one place to another, ignoring the important things in life.
Minnie. What is it? What are you looking for?
Minnie. What’s up? What are you searching for?
Horace. My cigar case. I fancy I must have left it in my room. (Minnie runs L. to get it.) Wait a minute. Did I put it down as I came through the hall? (Minnie runs R.) Wait, wait, I’m not certain I took it out with me at all this morning, in which case it surely will be in my study. (Minnie runs L.) Now, don’t run about. You make me giddy. Do not run about. Have a thorough search. (Exit Minnie L.)
Horace. My cigar case. I think I must have left it in my room. (Minnie runs L. to get it.) Hold on a second. Did I set it down when I came through the hall? (Minnie runs R.) Wait, wait, I'm not sure I took it out with me at all this morning, so it’s probably in my study. (Minnie runs L.) Now, don’t run around. You’re making me dizzy. Don't run around. Just do a thorough search. (Exit Minnie L.)
Aunt. Horace, you are going too far.
Aunt. Horace, you’re going too far.
Horace. Not I. I am stopping at home.
Horace. Not me. I'm staying in.
Aunt. You know what I mean. With Minnie.
Auntie. You know what I'm talking about. With Minnie.
Horace. Ah, she’s a dear little girl.
Horace. Oh, she’s such a sweet little girl.
Aunt. She’s one in a thousand.
Aunt. She's one in a million.
Horace. She is.
Horace. She sure is.
Aunt. She’s much too good for you.
Auntie. She’s way too good for you.
Horace. I don’t know about that. She’s quite good enough.
Horace. I’m not sure about that. She’s more than good enough.
Aunt. You are perfectly detestable.
Aunt. You are absolutely awful.
Horace. Think so?
Horace. You think so?
Aunt. Yes, and you’re growing worse every day. (Goes L.) You are simply wrapped up in selfishness, and egotism, and conceit.
Auntie. Yes, and you’re getting worse every day. (Goes L.) You’re completely caught up in selfishness, egotism, and arrogance.
Horace. Merely because I prefer a quiet evening to myself and my books? Because I prefer scientific discovery to heartless frivolity? Absurd.
Horace. Just because I enjoy a quiet evening with my books? Because I choose scientific discovery over shallow fun? Ridiculous.
Aunt. You are forgetting your duty to the girl you are going to make your wife. You seem to think because she was adopted by your mother you have the right to order her about as if she were a servant.
Auntie. You're forgetting your responsibility to the girl you're about to marry. You seem to think that just because she was adopted by your mother, you have the right to boss her around like she's a servant.
Horace. You know you are talking absolute rot.
Horace. You know you're just talking nonsense.
Aunt. You make her feel her dependent position, and I think that very unfair.
Aunt. You remind her of her dependent status, and I find that really unfair.
Horace. But, hang it all, she is not dependent. My mother provided for her sufficiently.
Horace. But, come on, she doesn’t rely on anyone. My mother took care of her just fine.
Aunt. Yes, I know, but everything comes from our family, and you never allow her to forget the fact. She considers she owes you a debt of gratitude.
Auntie. Yes, I get it, but everything comes from our family, and you never let her forget that. She feels like she owes you a thank you.
Horace. If it comes to that—well, she does.
Horace. If it gets to that—well, she does.
Aunt. You ought never to let her feel that. You should try to win her heart.
Auntie. You should never let her feel that way. You need to try to win her over.
Horace. Oh, bother. I have won her heart. We are engaged.
Horace. Oh, no. I’ve won her over. We’re engaged.
Aunt. Then try to deserve it.
Aunt. Then try to earn it.
Horace. But I do deserve it.
Horace. But I deserve it.
Aunt. Indeed! And pray, when are you going to marry her?
Aunt. Seriously! So, when are you going to marry her?
Horace. Oh, that’s all right. There’s no hurry about that.
Horace. Oh, that’s fine. There’s no rush on that.
Aunt. No hurry? Horace, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Auntie. No rush? Horace, you should be embarrassed.
Horace. (Aunt goes L.) Now, my dear Aunt, don’t you think you are very unwise to try and precipitate matters? You have heard that people who marry in haste very often——
Horace. (Auntie goes L.) Now, my dear Aunt, don’t you think you’re being a bit rash by trying to rush things? You’ve heard that people who marry quickly often——
Aunt. (Returning to table) You’ll have plenty of leisure for repentance shortly, but it will be for quite a different reason. Minnie will wake up presently and see you as you really are. She is a most attractive girl. You’ll feel pretty miserable when you have lost her.
Auntie. (Returning to table) You'll have plenty of time to regret your choices soon, but it will be for a completely different reason. Minnie will wake up soon and see you for who you really are. She's a really attractive girl. You'll feel pretty awful when you lose her.
Horace. Ridiculous. Minnie knows when she is well off. Hullo. I could have sworn I felt in that pocket! (Finds cigar case.)
Horace. That's ridiculous. Minnie knows she's got it good. Hey there. I could have sworn I felt it in that pocket! (Finds cigar case.)
Aunt. What is it? (Sees case. Aside) Hopeless, hopeless.
Auntie. What is it? (Sees case. Aside) This is hopeless, hopeless.
Horace. That’s a bit of bad luck, isn’t it?
Horace. That’s a bit of bad luck, isn’t it?
Aunt. Bad luck?
Aunt. Bad luck?
Aunt. There’s nothing like a good wife.
Auntie. There’s nothing better than a good wife.
Horace. Well, of course I don’t know anything about that.
Horace. Well, I really don’t know anything about that.
Aunt. I believe you prefer the cigar.
Auntie. I think you like the cigar better.
Horace. To women? In some respects I think I do.
Horace. To women? In some ways, I think I do.
Aunt. Oh, do you?
Aunt. Oh, really?
Horace. For one thing, a cigar doesn’t talk. And when you have finished with one, you can begin another.
Horace. For one thing, a cigar doesn’t talk. And when you’re done with one, you can start another.
(Enter Minnie L.)
(Enter Minnie L.)
Minnie. I can’t find your cigar case anywhere. You’ve found it!
Minnie. I can’t find your cigar case anywhere. You’ve found it!
Horace. In my pocket all the time.
Horace. Always in my pocket.
Minnie. (Goes to him and places cushions in chair) There, now. Are you nice and comfortable?
Minnie. (Moves over to him and arranges cushions in the chair) There, all set. Are you nice and comfortable?
Horace. No. Not at all.
Horace. Nope. Not at all.
Aunt. Don’t speak to him, dear. He isn’t worth it.
Auntie. Don’t talk to him, sweetheart. He isn’t worth your time.
Minnie. Now, Auntie dear, I must make my boy cosy, and then I think I shall go to bed.
Minnie. Now, Auntie, I need to make my boy comfortable, and then I think I'll head to bed.
Aunt. What? Give up the dance?
Aunt. What? Quit the dance?
Minnie. Oh, never mind about that.
Minnie. Oh, forget about that.
Aunt. Horace, I ask you, have you the heart to let Minnie sacrifice her pleasure for you in this way?
Auntie. Horace, I’m asking you, do you really have the heart to let Minnie give up her enjoyment for you like this?
Minnie. But, Auntie, it doesn’t matter, really it doesn’t.
Minnie. But, Auntie, it really doesn’t matter.
Aunt. I’m very angry with him.
Aunt. I’m really mad at him.
Horace. I am not sacrificing her pleasure, it’s you. Why don’t you go?
Horace. I'm not sacrificing her enjoyment; it's you. Why don't you just leave?
Aunt. You know I can’t.
Aunt. You know I can't.
Horace. There’s nothing to prevent you, except your absurd vanity.
Horace. The only thing stopping you is your ridiculous vanity.
Minnie. For shame, Horace!
Minnie. Shame on you, Horace!
Aunt. Vanity indeed! How dare you?
Aunt. Seriously? How dare you?
Horace. It’s perfectly true. It’s just your nonsense about a dress.
Horace. It's totally true. It's just your crazy idea about a dress.
Aunt. Very well, then, you shall see. I will go. I don’t care how I look.
Auntie. Alright, you’ll see. I’m going. I don’t care how I look.
Horace. And I am sure I don’t, either.
Horace. And I definitely don't either.
Aunt. Minnie shan’t be deprived of her evening. I’ll put on my yellow satin and look a perfect fright.
Auntie. Minnie won’t miss her evening. I'll wear my yellow satin and look absolutely terrible.
Horace. I’ll believe you when I see you.
Horace. I'll believe you when I see it.
Minnie. I have quite given up the idea, Auntie.
Minnie. I've totally given up on that idea, Auntie.
Aunt. But I haven’t. You shall see, Horace, I keep my word.
Auntie. But I haven’t. You’ll see, Horace, I keep my promises.
Horace. Oh, devil doubt you!
Horace. Oh, damn your doubts!
Aunt. Whatever it costs me, I’ll do my duty.
Auntie. No matter the cost, I’ll fulfill my responsibility.
Minnie. I don’t want to inflict this on you, Auntie dear. I’m quite content to go to bed.
Minnie. I don’t want to put you through this, Auntie dear. I’m perfectly fine with going to bed.
Aunt. Content. Oh, yes, I understand your content. But you shall go, my dear, to as many balls and parties as possible. You shall go to Ascot and Henley and Goodwood and Cowes. We’ll find escorts easily enough. You shall see plenty of new faces. I’ll take care of that. Vanity, indeed! I’ll teach him to call me vain! (Starts to exit L. when Bella enters R. with box.)
Auntie. Content. Oh, yes, I get your point. But you, my dear, will attend as many balls and parties as you can. You’ll go to Ascot, Henley, Goodwood, and Cowes. We’ll easily find people to accompany you. You'll meet plenty of new faces. I'll make sure of it. Vanity, really! I’ll show him what vain actually is! (Starts to exit L. when Bella enters R. with box.)
Bella. From Madame Louise, ma’m.
Bella. From Madame Louise, ma'am.
Aunt. The dress?
Aunt. The dress?
Bella. Yes, ma’m.
Bella. Yes, ma'am.
Aunt. What a relief!
Aunt. What a relief!
Horace. What a relief!
Horace. What a relief!
Minnie. Auntie, isn’t that splendid luck?
Minnie. Auntie, isn’t that great luck?
Bella. Madame Louise hopes it will be in time.
Bella Madame Louise hopes it will be in time.
Horace. (After a pause, looks up from his paper) Got the jumps.
Horace. (After a pause, looks up from his paper) I'm really nervous.
Minnie. You must have said something to upset her. She isn’t often like that.
Minnie. You must have said something to bother her. She doesn't usually act like that.
Horace. I should hope not.
Horace. I hope not.
Minnie. She’ll be all right to-morrow.
Minnie. She'll be fine tomorrow.
Horace. That’s the worst of women, they’re so illogical, aren’t they?
Horace. That’s the worst thing about women; they’re so illogical, right?
Minnie. I suppose they are.
Minnie. I guess they are.
Horace. You know, she thinks I ought to have gone with you to-night. That’s because she only looks at it from her own standpoint. Can’t take a broad view of the case.
Horace. You know, she thinks I should have gone with you tonight. That’s just because she only sees it from her own perspective. She can’t see the bigger picture.
Minnie. Is yours the broad view?
Minnie. Do you have the big picture?
Horace. Naturally.
Horace. For sure.
Minnie. How did you acquire this breadth of mind?
Minnie. How did you gain this level of understanding?
Horace. Can hardly say that. Just seems to belong to the masculine intellect. Men see all round a subject. Women don’t. They’re circumscribed. Can’t see over the hedge.
Horace. I can hardly say that. It just seems to belong to the male mindset. Men look at a subject from all angles. Women don’t. They have limitations. They can’t see beyond the fence.
Minnie. Could you teach me to see over the hedge?
Minnie. Can you show me how to look over the hedge?
Horace. I might be able to a certain extent.
Horace. I might be able to help a bit.
Minnie. Will you begin by explaining your broad view to-night?
Minnie. Could you start by sharing your overall perspective tonight?
Horace. That was quite simple. Aunt Martha wanted me to go because she didn’t want to go herself. The only view she could take.
Horace. That was pretty straightforward. Aunt Martha wanted me to go because she didn't want to go herself. That was the only perspective she could hold.
Minnie. And you?
Minnie. What about you?
Horace. Of course my viewpoint was very different. I had already been out in the snow once to get this month’s “Astronomer,” and there wasn’t any reason why I should go out again. There is a[15] discussion about life on Mars this month, which I am following closely. It wouldn’t have done Aunt Martha any good to stop at home and read the article, because, being practically devoid of brains, she wouldn’t have understood a word about it. Then again, women ought to go to dances, which are got up entirely for their benefit. Whereas men hate that kind of frivolity. So it was obviously her duty to go.
Horace. Of course, my perspective was totally different. I had already ventured out into the snow once to grab this month’s “Astronomer,” so there was no reason for me to go out again. This month, there’s a[15] discussion about life on Mars that I'm really interested in. It wouldn’t have helped Aunt Martha to stay home and read the article because, lacking common sense, she wouldn’t have understood any of it. On the other hand, women should go to dances, which are organized just for them. Men, on the other hand, dislike that kind of nonsense. So clearly, it was her obligation to attend.
Minnie. I see.
Minnie. Got it.
Horace. You see, Aunt Martha couldn’t take in all these points because her mind isn’t broad enough to grasp them. The consequence was her view was very narrow and rather selfish.
Horace. You see, Aunt Martha couldn’t understand all these points because her mind isn’t open enough to get them. As a result, her perspective was very narrow and somewhat selfish.
Minnie. You certainly put it very clearly.
Minnie. You definitely made that very clear.
Horace. I am glad you can appreciate my reasoning.
Horace. I'm glad you can see my point.
Minnie. Oh, I can. But one thing I see very plainly, and that is that you both are putting yourselves to inconvenience on my account.
Minnie. Oh, I can. But one thing I see very clearly is that you both are going out of your way to help me.
Horace. No, dear, I assure you I am not.
Horace. No, sweetheart, I promise you I'm not.
Minnie. That’s true. Thank you for reminding me. But I hate to think I should be so much trouble to you both. Of course I know I have no real claim upon you. It isn’t as if I were your very own sister.
Minnie. That's true. Thanks for the reminder. But I really hate to think I'm such a burden to both of you. I know I don't actually have any real claim to your help. It's not like I'm your actual sister.
Horace. I should think not, indeed. You’re going to be my wife. Just think of that.
Horace. I definitely don’t think so. You’re going to be my wife. Can you believe that?
(Minnie goes to him above table L.)
(Minnie goes to him at the table L.)
Minnie. Horace, tell me. Do you love me? Really, really love me? Or are you going to marry me because it was your mother’s wish? (Horace kisses her hand.) You mustn’t be angry with me. Perhaps I expect too much, but I think I should be happier if you were just a little bit more—ah, more[16] loving in your manner. Oh, Horace, Horace, I don’t want you to marry me out of pity!
Minnie. Horace, tell me. Do you love me? Really love me? Or are you going to marry me just because your mother wanted you to? (Horace kisses her hand.) You shouldn’t be mad at me. Maybe I’m asking for too much, but I think I’d be a lot happier if you showed a little more—ah, more[16] affection. Oh, Horace, Horace, I don’t want you to marry me out of pity!
Horace. My dear child, don’t be silly! (Takes her hand.) I do love you! I love you most awfully, but I am not what is called a demonstrative man. Few scientific men are, I fancy.
Horace. My dear child, don’t be ridiculous! (Takes her hand.) I really do love you! I love you so much, but I'm not what you'd call an emotional person. I think not many scientists are, to be honest.
Minnie. Do you know, I’m almost sorry you are such a scientific man.
Minnie. Do you know, I’m almost sorry you're such a science-minded person.
Horace. (Minnie takes his left hand) Minnie!
Horace. (Minnie takes his left hand) Minnie!
Minnie. Love and science don’t seem to agree.
Minnie. Love and science don’t seem to get along.
Horace. Oh, yes, they do. But you don’t understand. I love you in a scientific way.
Horace. Oh, yes, they do. But you don’t get it. I love you in a scientific way.
Minnie. I think I like the old way best. But I suppose I am silly and narrow minded like Aunt Martha. (Kisses him.) There, we won’t say any more about it. Are you comfortable?
Minnie. I think I prefer the old way. But I guess I’m being silly and closed-minded like Aunt Martha. (Kisses him.) Alright, let’s not talk about it anymore. Are you comfortable?
Horace. No, not at all. You might get another pillow.
Horace. No, not really. You could get another pillow.
Minnie. (Does so.) Shall I put you out the whiskey?
Minnie. (Does so.) Should I pour you some whiskey?
Horace. Um—yes—you may as well. (Minnie gets whiskey from table L. and two syphons and jar of biscuits. Aside) Dear little girl. How she does love me! I must get her a ring, or a pin, or a thimble to-morrow. That will make her perfectly happy.
Horace. Um—yeah—you might as well. (Minnie grabs whiskey from table L. along with two syphons and a jar of biscuits. Aside) Sweet little girl. She really loves me! I have to get her a ring, or a pin, or a thimble tomorrow. That’ll make her completely happy.
Minnie. I’ll pour you out a glass. Say when.
Minnie. I’ll pour you a glass. Just say when.
Horace. Upon my word, you are a perfect treasure!
Horace. I swear, you are an absolute gem!
Minnie. Oh, Horace, do you really mean it? (Pauses in pouring.)
Minnie. Oh, Horace, do you actually mean it? (Pauses in pouring.)
Horace. Of course I mean it—but go on pouring, don’t stop. Now.
Horace. Of course I mean it—but keep pouring, don’t stop. Now.
Minnie. Don’t sit up too late, dear. You mustn’t work too hard. You’ll strain your eyes.
Minnie. Don’t stay up too late, honey. You shouldn’t work too hard. It’ll strain your eyes.
Horace. No danger, but I shall want some more oil in the lamp. Will you please tell Bella.
Horace. No problem, but I’ll need some more oil for the lamp. Can you please let Bella know?
Minnie. Certainly. Now promise me you won’t tire yourself. (Kisses him.) Promise.
Minnie. Of course. Just promise me you won’t wear yourself out. (Kisses him.) Promise.
Horace. All right, dear, I promise.
Horace. Okay, darling, I promise.
Minnie. For my sake.
Minnie. For my sake.
(Horace kisses her with a touch of finality.)
(Horace kisses her, as if to mark an ending.)
Minnie. Now I’ll see how Auntie is getting on. (Goes to door L.)
Minnie. Now I’ll check on how Auntie is doing. (Goes to door L.)
Horace. Minnie.
Horace. Minnie.
Minnie. (Returning, expecting a caress) Yes?
Minnie. (Returning, hoping for a hug) Yes?
Horace. I was going to say——
Horace. I was about to say——
Minnie. Yes, darling?
Minnie. Yes, sweetie?
Horace. (Changing his mind) You won’t forget about the oil?
Horace. (Changing his mind) You’re not going to forget about the oil, right?
(Enter Aunt in new dress, followed by Bella with wraps, which are put on sofa up stage. Exit Bella R.)
Enter Aunt in a new dress, followed by Bella with wraps, which are placed on the sofa upstage. Exit Bella R.
Aunt. Here I am, dear. Quite ready. Haven’t I been quick?
Auntie. Here I am, dear. I'm all set. Haven't I been quick?
Minnie. Oh, Auntie, you are a picture! You ought to be framed.
Minnie. Oh, Auntie, you look amazing! You should be on display.
Horace. (Aside) And hung.
Horace. (Aside) And tied up.
Aunt. You little flatterer. I think it is rather nice myself. Put on your cloak, dear. Is the cab ready?
Auntie. You little charmer. I actually think it’s quite nice. Put on your coat, dear. Is the cab ready?
Minnie. I don’t know—I don’t think that——
Minnie. I’m not sure—I don’t think that——
Aunt. What? Do you mean to say he hasn’t ordered a cab? Horace! Horace!
Auntie. What? Are you saying he hasn’t called a cab? Horace! Horace!
Minnie. Don’t disturb him. He is reading the “Astronomer.”
Minnie. Don't interrupt him. He's reading the "Astronomer."
Aunt. The “Astronomer,” indeed! I’ll make him see stars! Horace! Horace! (At table. Minnie L.)
Auntie. The "Astronomer," really! I’ll make him see stars! Horace! Horace! (At the table. Minnie L.)
Horace. Oh, what is it? What is it?
Horace. Oh, what is it? What is it?
Aunt. Have you ordered a cab?
Aunt. Have you booked a ride?
Horace. I’ve ordered nothing but a little peace and quiet which doesn’t come at my call.
Horace. I’ve asked for nothing but a bit of peace and quiet, and it doesn’t show up when I want it to.
Aunt. Well, why not? Horace, why have you not ordered a cab?
Auntie. Well, why not? Horace, why haven’t you called a cab?
Horace. Oh, bother! Don’t interrupt, for goodness’ sake!
Horace. Oh, come on! Don’t interrupt, for crying out loud!
Aunt. (Snatches his paper away and throws it over her shoulder) Why haven’t you ordered a cab?
Aunt. (Grabs his paper and tosses it over her shoulder) Why haven’t you called a cab?
Horace. Why should I order a cab?
Horace. Why should I get a cab?
Aunt. It is the very least you could do. Go and order one at once, please.
Auntie. It's the least you can do. Please go and order one right now.
Horace. Where are the servants?
Horace. Where are the staff?
Aunt. Bella is not engaged to run errands outside the house. I daren’t ask cook, and Jane has company.
Aunt. Bella isn't available to run errands outside the house. I can't ask the cook, and Jane has company.
Horace. Well, give her company a bob and let him go.
Horace. Alright, give her a pound and let him leave.
Aunt. Her company, as it happens, is not a he. You must go.
Auntie. Her company, as it turns out, is not a guy. You need to leave.
Horace. Please, and clearly understand, I am not going out in the cold again to-night. You seem to forget that I am in a very delicate state of health, and if I were to venture out on a night like this the consequences might be most serious.
Horace. Please understand that I’m not going out in the cold again tonight. You seem to forget that I’m in a very fragile state of health, and if I were to step out on a night like this, it could have serious consequences.
Minnie. Perhaps I could go.
Minnie. Maybe I could go.
Aunt. It’s abominable of him!
Aunt. That’s awful of him!
(Enter Bella with note.)
(Enter Bella with message.)
Bella. A note, ma’m.
Bella. A message, ma’am.
Aunt. For me?
Aunt? For me?
Bella. Yes, ma’m.
Bella. Yes, ma'am.
Aunt. (Reading note) “Dear Miss Parker. May I have the pleasure of taking you and Miss Templar to Mrs. Clarence’s dance this evening”—
Auntie. (Reading note) “Dear Miss Parker. Can I invite you and Miss Templar to Mrs. Clarence’s dance this evening?”
Horace. Capital! There is your escort.
Horace. Capital! There's your ride.
Aunt. “My car is quite at your disposal.”
Aunt. “You can use my car whenever you need it.”
Horace. And there’s your cab. Sublime Providence!
Horace. And there’s your cab. Amazing fate!
Aunt. Did the gentleman come himself?
Aunt. Did the gentleman come by himself?
Bella. Yes, ma’m. He is waiting in the hall.
Bella. Yes, ma’am. He’s waiting in the hallway.
(Minnie looks over letter.)
(Minnie reads the letter.)
Aunt. Show him in at once here.
Aunt. Let him in now.
Horace. Don’t bring him in here. He can stay in the hall.
Horace. Don’t let him come in here. He can stay in the hallway.
Aunt. Certainly not. Show him in here, Bella.
Auntie. Definitely not. Bring him in here, Bella.
(Exit Bella R.)
(Exit Bella R.)
Horace. Well, who is my blessed preserver?
Horace. So, who’s my awesome savior?
Aunt. Mr. Dicey.
Aunt. Mr. Dicey.
Horace. What, Arthur Dicey? That Stock Exchange fellow?
Horace. What, Arthur Dicey? That guy from the Stock Exchange?
Aunt. A charming young man.
Aunt. A charismatic young man.
Horace. A brainless idiot!
Horace. A total idiot!
Aunt. A perfect gentleman, and besides, I hear he is enormously rich.
Auntie. A true gentleman, and on top of that, I hear he's incredibly wealthy.
Minnie. How kind and thoughtful of him! He always seems to be doing the right thing just at the right moment.
Minnie. How nice and considerate of him! He always seems to do the right thing at just the right time.
Horace. Minnie, I don’t at all care that you should go with this fellow to-night. He is not at all the kind of man I wish you to be seen going about with.
Horace. Minnie, I really don’t care if you go out with this guy tonight. He’s definitely not the type of man I want you to be seen with.
Minnie. He is always so attentive.
Minnie. He's always so attentive.
Horace. I dare say he is. I don’t choose that you go with him.
Horace. I bet he is. I don't want you going with him.
Aunt. What dog-in-the-manger attitude is this? You won’t take her yourself nor let anyone else.
Auntie. What selfish attitude is this? You won’t take her yourself or let anyone else do it.
Horace. I have expressed my wish on the matter and I propose to have my way, so——
Horace. I've shared my thoughts on the issue, and I intend to get my way, so——
(Enter Bella, showing in Mr. Dicey R.)
(Enter Bella, showing in Mr. Dicey R.)
Bella. Mr. Dicey.
Bella. Mr. Dicey.
Aunt. This is a most opportune kindness you are showing us, Mr. Dicey. We gladly accept your escort. (Shakes hands.)
Auntie. This is a really thoughtful gesture, Mr. Dicey. We happily accept your offer to escort us. (Shakes hands.)
Minnie. (Shaking hands) You can hardly guess how much obliged we are to you. Thank you for thinking of us.
Minnie. (Shaking hands) You can barely imagine how grateful we are to you. Thanks for considering us.
Dicey. The pleasure is doubled if I am of real service.
Risky. The enjoyment is even greater if I can truly help.
Minnie. Somehow or other, we had forgotten to order a cab.
Minnie. Somehow, we forgot to call a cab.
Aunt. Yes. We had forgotten!
Aunt. Yes. We totally forgot!
Horace. I was just getting ready to run down the street after one.
Horace. I was just about to dash down the street after one.
Aunt. So of course my nephew is very grateful to you. Aren’t you, Horace? Now he will be able to pursue his scientific studies without fear of interruption.
Auntie. So my nephew is really grateful to you. Aren’t you, Horace? Now he can follow his scientific studies without any worries of interruptions.
Dicey. Aren’t you coming with us, Mr. Parker?
Risky. Are you not coming with us, Mr. Parker?
Horace. Well, I had not thought of doing so.
Horace. Well, I hadn’t thought of that.
Minnie. If it had not been for you, Mr. Dicey, I doubt whether any of us would have gone. We were very nearly giving up going.
Minnie. If it weren't for you, Mr. Dicey, I seriously doubt any of us would have gone. We were almost ready to give up on going.
Dicey. Have I really saved the situation for you? That is jolly good luck. May I claim an extra number of dances on the strength of it?
Risky. Did I really save the day for you? That's pretty lucky. Can I get a few extra dances out of it?
Minnie. As many as you wish.
Minnie. As many as you want.
(Dicey helps Aunt with her cloak.)
(Dicey helps Aunt with her coat.)
Dicey. Thank you so much.
Risky. Thanks a lot.
Minnie. Won’t you come, Horace? I hardly care to go without you.
Minnie. Will you come, Horace? I really don’t want to go without you.
Horace. Your dances are all booked, it seems. You have none left.
Horace. It looks like all your dance slots are filled. You don’t have any left.
Horace. By which you mean to say you dance beautifully, too?
Horace. So, you're saying you dance beautifully, right?
Minnie. No, I leave it to others to say that. (Turns away L.)
Minnie. No, I'll let others say that. (Turns away L.)
Dicey. And I wish to be the first to say it.
Risky. And I want to be the first to say it.
Horace. My aunt is ready, I see. If you will take her, we will follow a little later.
Horace. I see that my aunt is ready. If you’ll take her, we’ll catch up a bit later.
Dicey. I thought you were out of town, or I should not have come. But there is plenty of room in the car. Won’t you and your sister come with us?
Risky. I thought you were away, or I wouldn't have come. But there's plenty of space in the car. Won't you and your sister join us?
Horace. Miss Templar is not my sister.
Horace. Miss Templar isn't my sister.
Dicey. Your adopted sister, I should have said.
Risky. I should have mentioned that she's your adopted sister.
Horace. And my intended wife. (Aside) That’s a nasty one for Master Dicey.
Horace. And my future wife. (Aside) That's a tough situation for Master Dicey.
Dicey. Pardon me. That I did not know. May I offer my congratulations?
Risky. Excuse me. I didn't know that. Can I offer my congratulations?
Minnie. Thank you, Mr. Dicey, but it is a little early for congratulations. We laugh it over between ourselves sometimes in a brotherly-sisterly sort of way without much serious consideration what marriage means. There’s nothing settled yet. Will you see Auntie to the car while I get my wrap?
Minnie. Thank you, Mr. Dicey, but it's a bit early for congratulations. We joke about it sometimes in a sibling kind of way without really thinking seriously about what marriage means. Nothing is decided yet. Could you help Auntie to the car while I grab my wrap?
Aunt. Good night, Horace.
Aunt. Goodnight, Horace.
Horace. Good night, Aunt.
Good night, Aunt.
Dicey. Good-night, Mr. Parker.
Dicey. Goodnight, Mr. Parker.
Horace. Good night, sir.
Horace. Good night, sir.
(Exeunt Aunt and Dicey R.)
(Exit Aunt and Dicey R.)
Minnie. (Coming to L. of table and taking off her engagement ring) I think you will understand me when I say, “Here is your ring.” You have given me a glimpse of such a love-cheapening life that I have grown afraid. I believed in you, Horace, though I was never blind to your faults. I[22] had hoped I might help you to conquer them, but I realize now the task is beyond me. A stronger spirit would have to be invoked. Without your love I should fail, and I see now you have none to offer me. The devotion of your life is for yourself and yourself alone.
Minnie. (Walking to L. at the table and removing her engagement ring) I think you’ll get what I mean when I say, “Here’s your ring.” You’ve shown me a glimpse of a life that cheapens love, and it scares me. I believed in you, Horace, even though I always saw your flaws. I[22] hoped I could help you overcome them, but I now realize that’s beyond my capability. It would take a stronger person to do that. Without your love, I would fail, and I see now that you have none to give me. Your devotion is all for yourself and no one else.
Horace. And all this fuss because I don’t want you to go with a silly ass to a dance to-night.
Horace. And all this drama because I don't want you to go to a dance tonight with some idiot.
Minnie. No. For your utter lack of consideration. I might hurt my dear friend, Kitty Clarence, by not going to her dance. Oh, that was nothing! Disappoint Auntie—nothing—give up my own pleasure—nothing—insult a visitor—nothing, nothing at all. Here it is, Horace. (Puts ring on table.) I cannot wear it. The gold seems to have gone out of it. (Exit R.)
Minnie. No. Because you’re completely thoughtless. I could hurt my dear friend, Kitty Clarence, by skipping her dance. Oh, that’s trivial! Disappoint Auntie—just a minor issue—sacrifice my own enjoyment—no big deal—offend a guest—nothing, nothing at all. Here it is, Horace. (Puts ring on table.) I can’t wear it. The gold just feels wrong. (Exit R.)
Horace. And that’s the girl I’ve been talking to about broad views! (Working round table to paper on the floor.) Well, I’ve met some narrow-minded people in my life, but she is far and away the most narrow-minded of the lot. (Picks up paper.) It’s very disappointing, that’s what it is, very disappointing. Women are all alike. No liberality, no generosity. You think you have found an exception, you pour out all the wealth of your priceless love upon her, and the moment the shoe pinches—there you are. I suppose she will want to make it up to-morrow, then I shall have to put down my foot and come to a thorough understanding. Confound that fellow Dicey! It’s all his fault. I never ought to have allowed him to take her. I ought to have gone myself. Damn Dicey! Now for this article. I suppose I’d better read it. Don’t feel a bit like it. However, it may act as a sedative. (Settles down to read.)
Horace. And that’s the girl I’ve been discussing broad ideas with! (Working around the table, picking up paper from the floor.) I’ve encountered some really narrow-minded people, but she’s definitely the most narrow-minded of them all. (Picks up paper.) It’s really disappointing, it is—very disappointing. Women are all the same. No openness, no generosity. You think you’ve found someone different, you shower her with all your love, and the moment there's a problem—there you go. I guess she’ll want to make up tomorrow, and I’ll have to stand my ground and reach a clear understanding. Damn that guy Dicey! It’s all his fault. I should never have let him take her. I should have gone myself. Damn Dicey! Now to focus on this article. I guess I’d better read it. I really don’t feel like it. Still, it might help settle me down. (Settles down to read.)
Bella. (Entering R.) Please, sir, there’s a man wants to see you.
Bella. (Entering R.) Excuse me, sir, there’s a man here who wants to see you.
Horace. A what wants to what?
Horace. A what wants to do?
Bella. A man to see you, sir.
Bella. There's a man here to see you, sir.
Horace. What does he want?
Horace. What does he need?
Bella. I don’t know, sir. He says he has a letter for you, sir.
Bella. I’m not sure, sir. He says he has a letter for you, sir.
Horace. Why didn’t he give it to you?
Horace. Why didn’t he give it to you?
Bella. He wouldn’t trust it out of his hand, sir. He says he must give it to you himself.
Bella. He wouldn't trust it out of his sight, sir. He says he needs to give it to you himself.
Horace. What sort of a man?
Horace. What kind of person?
Bella. Well, sir, he seems to think he is a respectable sort of a man, but he’s what I should call a tramp.
Bella. Well, sir, he thinks he's a respectable kind of guy, but I see him as nothing more than a drifter.
Horace. A tramp? Well, I can’t see him, then. I can’t see him. Tell him to come again in the morning.
Horace. A drifter? Well, I can’t see him, then. I can’t see him. Tell him to come back in the morning.
Bella. I told him that, sir.
Bella. I told him that, sir.
Horace. Well, what did he say?
Horace. So, what did he say?
Bella. Well, sir, he said he was a persevering kind of man, but he’s what I should call obstinate.
Bella. Well, sir, he said he was the kind of man who never gives up, but I would describe him as stubborn.
Horace. What do you mean?
Horace. What do you mean by that?
Bella. He said he wouldn’t go away till he had seen you—and I don’t think he will.
Bella. He said he wouldn't leave until he had seen you—and I really don't think he will.
Horace. It is too maddening. I can’t have one moment to myself. Very well, show him in. Show him in. (Exit Bella.) First of all Aunt Martha, then that fool Dicey, then Minnie and now a tramp.
Horace. It's so frustrating. I can't get a moment to myself. Fine, let him in. Let him in. (Exit Bella.) First Aunt Martha, then that idiot Dicey, then Minnie, and now some drifter.
(Enter Bella with Tramp. Exit Bella R.)
(Enter Bella with Tramp. Exit Bella R.)
Horace. Well, what is it? What is it? What do you want?
Horace. So, what’s up? What do you need?
Tramp. Mr. Brampton told me to give you this. (Hands letter.)
Hobo. Mr. Brampton asked me to give you this. (Hands letter.)
Horace. Mr. Brampton—of Coventry?
Horace. Mr. Brampton—from Coventry?
Tramp. Yes, sir.
Homeless person. Yes, sir.
Horace. (Reading) “—might be able to give him some work.” I haven’t any work to give you. “Clever workman—seen better days.”
Horace. (Reading) “—might be able to give him some work.” I don’t have any work to offer you. “Skilled worker—has seen better days.”
Tramp. That’s true enough. I never see any worse than what I’m getting now.
Homeless person. That's for sure. I never see anything worse than what I'm dealing with right now.
Horace. I’m afraid I cannot help you.
Horace. I'm sorry, but I can't assist you.
Tramp. Don’t be hard, Guv’ner. I’m cold and tired. I’ve walked all the way from Coventry.
Homeless person. Don’t be harsh, Governor. I’m cold and exhausted. I’ve walked all the way from Coventry.
Horace. Walked? Why, Mr. Brampton says here he has given you the money for your railway fare.
Horace. Walked? Well, Mr. Brampton says here he has given you the money for your train fare.
Tramp. So he did, sir. I had a bit of bad luck with that.
Homeless person. Yeah, he did, sir. I had some bad luck with that.
Horace. What? Lost it, I suppose. (Half laughing.)
Horace. What? I guess I lost it. (Half laughing.)
Tramp. Not exactly, sir.
Hobo. Not exactly, sir.
Horace. What then?
Horace. What’s next?
Tramp. Spent it.
Tramp. Used it all.
Horace. How? Drink?
Horace. How? Drink?
Tramp. Yes, drink and meat. There’s no crime in that, is there? Even a tramp must eat.
Hobo. Yeah, food and drink. There’s nothing wrong with that, right? Even a tramp needs to eat.
Horace. Yes, and drink. Well, and when the money was gone——
Horace. Yeah, and drink. So, when the money ran out——
Tramp. I had to walk. That’s all.
Homeless person. I just had to walk. That’s it.
Horace. Well, that’s what you will have to do now. I can’t help you.
Horace. Well, that’s what you need to do now. I can’t assist you.
Tramp. Just my luck! (Going.) Beg pardon, Guv’ner, do you feel like standing me a drink before I go, just to keep out the cold?
Homeless person. Just my luck! (Going.) Excuse me, sir, would you mind buying me a drink before I head out, just to fend off the cold?
Horace. (Shrugs his shoulders) Help yourself.
Horace. (Shrugs) Help yourself.
Tramp. (Drinks glass of whiskey Minnie had poured out) Ah, that’s good! That brings back old times. You wouldn’t think, Guv’ner, that I was a prosperous man once. (Horace indicates that whiskey is responsible.) No, it wasn’t drink that ruined me. Drink may have kept me down, but it didn’t throw me. I’m an engineer by trade—leastways, I was, but I ain’t worked at it now these five years. Thank you kindly for the whiskey. Good night, sir.
Streets. (Drinks glass of whiskey Minnie poured out) Ah, that’s good! It takes me back to the old days. You wouldn’t believe it, Guv’ner, but I was once a successful man. (Horace suggests that whiskey is to blame.) No, it wasn’t the drink that messed me up. The drink may have held me back, but it didn’t knock me down. I’m an engineer by profession—at least, I used to be, but I haven't worked at it for five years now. Thanks a lot for the whiskey. Good night, sir.
Horace. Care to take another?
Horace. Want to take another?
Tramp. Thank you, sir, I would. (Helps himself.) Your health, Guv’ner! You wouldn’t think there was much of the inventor about me? Would you? But I’ve got some ideas, good uns too, only I ain’t got the capital, see?
Homeless person. Thank you, sir, I would. (Helps himself.) Cheers to your health, Gov! You wouldn’t guess there’s much of an inventor in me, would you? But I have some good ideas, I really do, just lacking the funds, you know?
Horace. I see.
Horace. Got it.
Tramp. I’ll let you into one of my ideas, Guv’ner, if you’ll take it up. It’ll make your fortune.
Homeless person. I’ll share one of my ideas with you, Gov’nor, if you’re interested. It could make you a lot of money.
Horace. Thanks. I have all the money I require.
Horace. Thanks. I have all the money I need.
Tramp. Have you, now? I haven’t, that’s the difference. Feels pretty comfortable, doesn’t it? I was doing very well once, over there in the States.
Hobo. Have you really? I haven't, that's the difference. It feels pretty nice, doesn't it? I was doing really well once, over there in the States.
Horace. America?
Horace. USA?
Tramp. Yes. They’re pretty smart there, but I showed them I was as good as they. I made a steam valve that’s on most boilers to-day. Yes, I did. Just me. I got ten thousand dollars down before I got my papers out. But my partner got ahead of me. I never saw another cent. I fought him as long as the money lasted. But it didn’t go far in the Courts of Justice. It was the Law as downed me, Guv’ner. Drink?—only damned me.
Hobo. Yeah. They’re pretty sharp there, but I proved I was just as good as they were. I created a steam valve that’s on most boilers today. Yeah, I did. Just me. I got ten thousand dollars upfront before I even got my paperwork sorted. But my partner outmaneuvered me. I never saw another cent. I fought him as long as the money lasted. But it didn’t go far in the Courts of Justice. It was the Law that took me down, Governor. Drink?—it only messed me up.
Horace. Too bad. You must try again.
Horace. That's unfortunate. You should give it another shot.
Tramp. Not much chance of that. One can’t do anything without a little capital, and who’s going to trust me? No, I’ll pick up a living how I can.
Homeless person. Not really likely. You can't do anything without some funds, and who's going to believe in me? No, I'll just figure out how to make a living on my own.
Horace. How do you pick up a living?
Horace. How do you make a living?
Tramp. Anyhow. Running after cabs.
Hitchhiker. Anyway. Chasing after taxis.
Horace. Surely to goodness, nobody pays you for doing that?
Horace. Surely, no one is actually paying you to do that?
Tramp. If I’m lucky I gets the job of lifting down the luggage.
Homeless person. If I’m lucky, I get to handle the luggage.
Horace. Oh, that’s it.
Horace. Oh, that’s all.
Tramp. There’s a lovely fall of snow to-night.
Tramp. It's a lovely snowfall tonight.
Horace. Cold comfort for you, I should have thought.
Horace. I would have thought that would be a cold comfort for you.
Tramp. I may get a job shovelling it in the morning—if I am in luck.
Hobo. I might find a job shoveling it in the morning—if I'm lucky.
Horace. Why don’t you go back to your old trade?
Horace. Why don't you go back to what you used to do?
Tramp. Why don’t I go back to my old trade? Why don’t I? Who’s going to take me on? Who’ll give me a job? Will you?
Homeless person. Why don’t I go back to my old job? Why not? Who’s going to hire me? Who will give me a job? Will you?
Horace. I told you I can’t do anything for you.
Horace. I told you I can't help you with anything.
Tramp. Then what’s the good of asking? But it don’t matter. I’ve got nothing to live for now. Nothing to save for. The Law broke me up, killed the missus.
Homeless person. So what's the point of asking? But it doesn't matter. I have nothing to live for now. Nothing to save for. The law broke me apart, killed my wife.
Horace. You were married, then?
Horace. You were married, right?
Tramp. Yes.
Hobo. Yes.
Horace. Any children?
Horace. Got any kids?
Tramp. One. God forgive me. (Affected.)
Tramp. One. God forgive me. (Fake.)
Horace. Care to take another? Some biscuits if you like.
Horace. Would you like another? I have some biscuits if you're interested.
Tramp. I ain’t proud. Thank you, Guv’ner. You’re a good un. I worked my way back to England only to find my missus dead and the little un gone.
Homeless person. I'm not proud. Thank you, Governor. You're a good guy. I managed to make my way back to England only to find that my wife is dead and the little one is gone.
Horace. Gone? How gone?
Horace. Gone? How far gone?
Tramp. The people she had been with had left, and I never could find out what had become of her. Poor little Minnie!
Homeless person. The people she had been with had left, and I never found out what happened to her. Poor little Minnie!
Horace. Minnie!
Horace. Minnie!
Tramp. That was her name, sir.
Tramp. That was her name, sir.
Horace. Minnie? (Rising and his manner hardening.)
Horace. Minnie? (Standing up and becoming more serious.)
Tramp. Everything gone. Why should I care? Care! I beg pardon, sir. The whiskey set me talking. My story can’t interest you. Good night, sir. Perhaps if I come back in a day or two you might know of a job.
Homeless person. Everything's gone. Why should I care? Care! I’m sorry, sir. The whiskey made me talk. My story probably wouldn’t interest you. Good night, sir. Maybe if I come back in a day or two, you might know of a job.
Horace. No. Quite useless. I can do nothing for you. Get along, now.
Horace. No. It's pointless. I can’t help you. Just go on now.
Tramp. Good night, sir. (Exit Tramp R.)
Tramp. Good night, sir. (Exit Tramp R.)
Horace. Minnie! Minnie! How dare he mention her name? Of course she couldn’t possibly have anything to do with him. But it did give me a turn. Poor devil, I suppose I was rather rough on him. Never mind, serves him right. I dare say he deserved it. Anyhow, it will prevent him coming back again to-morrow. (About to drink.) Confound him, he has used my glass! (Fetches another from table L.) It seems to me I am curiously unlucky. I can’t think why people are so unfair to me. I’m such a good sort. I don’t know anyone who has a better temper or a more generous, open disposition. I expect that is the secret of it. (Puts whiskey, glasses and biscuits on small table above fireplace.) Other people are so mean, and selfish, and unfair. (Sits in armchair.) Now let me get on with it. (Reads “Astronomer.”) Where was I? Ah, yes, here we are. (Reads.) “Latest observations have revealed strange lights which some astronomers believe to be signals put out in the hope of an answer from Earth.” I don’t believe a word of it. It may be possible, though. If Mars is inhabited, I wonder what they are like. Are they savages, or are they ahead of us? (Lamp flickers a little.) Confound it! The lamp’s going out. Minnie never told her. Forgets all about a poor fellow left alone in the dark. Most selfish of her. (Turns over page and reads by firelight as lamp fails more and more.) Ah, just the end. (Reads.) “The advent of a messenger or an army from Mars should not seem to us of the twentieth century a greater marvel than did the shining sails of Columbus to the aborigines of America. What an unfolding of wisdom would their coming yield. What problems could they solve, what new ones[28] set us. The mind fails in contemplation. Too vast—vast.” (Lamp goes out. Horace falls asleep. Enter A Messenger from Mars.)
Horace. Minnie! Minnie! How dare he bring up her name? Of course, she couldn’t possibly have anything to do with him. But it did catch me off guard. Poor guy, I guess I was pretty harsh on him. Oh well, he brought it on himself. I bet he deserved it. Either way, it’ll keep him from coming back tomorrow. (About to drink.) Damn it, he used my glass! (Fetches another from table L.) I feel oddly unlucky. I can't understand why people are so unfair to me. I'm a pretty decent person. I don’t know anyone with a better temper or a more generous, open personality. I suppose that's the key to it. (Puts whiskey, glasses and biscuits on small table above fireplace.) Other people are so stingy, selfish, and unfair. (Sits in armchair.) Now, let me get back to it. (Reads “Astronomer.”) Where was I? Ah, yes, here we go. (Reads.) “Latest observations have revealed strange lights which some astronomers believe to be signals put out in the hope of an answer from Earth.” I don’t believe any of it. But it could be possible. If Mars is inhabited, I wonder what they are like. Are they savages, or are they ahead of us? (Lamp flickers a little.) Damn it! The lamp’s going out. Minnie never mentioned it. She forgets all about a poor guy left alone in the dark. How selfish of her. (Turns over page and reads by firelight as lamp fails more and more.) Ah, just the end. (Reads.) “The advent of a messenger or an army from Mars should not seem to us of the twentieth century a greater marvel than did the shining sails of Columbus to the aborigines of America. What an unfolding of wisdom would their coming yield. What problems could they solve, what new ones[28] set us. The mind fails in contemplation. Too vast—vast.” (Lamp goes out. Horace falls asleep. Enter A Messenger from Mars.)
(N.B. If the lamp has the classical figure suggested, this will now be removed while the stage is dark and a proportionately larger one substituted in which an actor takes the place of the small figure. The lamp-shade will now be approximately four feet in diameter. If the figure does not form a part of the lamp ornamentation in the first instance it will remain simply as a lamp, and the actor takes up a position about C. while stage is dark, and the lights growing bring him slowly into view. A good effect is obtained by blacking out all the stage except the small part R. showing Horace asleep in his chair, with the firelight playing upon him. A gentle roll of thunder should announce the arrival of the Messenger. The following is Horace’s dream.)
(N.B. If the lamp has the classical figure suggested, this will now be removed while the stage is dark and a larger one will be put in, with an actor taking the place of the small figure. The lampshade will now be about four feet in diameter. If the figure is not part of the lamp decoration at first, it will simply remain as a lamp, and the actor will position himself around C. while the stage is dark, gradually becoming visible as the lights come up. A good effect is achieved by blacking out the entire stage except for the small part R. showing Horace asleep in his chair, with the firelight playing on him. A soft roll of thunder should signal the arrival of the Messaging app. The following is Horace's dream.)
Messenger. Man! Man of Earth! Give heed for the good of your kind.
Messaging app. Hey! Human! Listen up for the sake of your kind.
Horace. Hullo. Who are you? (Drowsily.)
Horace. Hey. Who are you? (Drowsily.)
Messenger. I am a Messenger from Mars.
Messenger. I'm a messenger from Mars.
Horace. Don’t believe a word of it.
Horace. Don’t believe any of that.
Messenger. I am a Messenger from Mars. (Sternly.)
Messaging app. I'm a Messenger from Mars. (Sternly.)
Horace. Are you really? Won’t you sit down?
Horace. Are you for real? Why not take a seat?
Messenger. No.
Messenger. Nope.
Horace. Have a drink, then?
Horace. Want to grab a drink?
Messenger. Worm!
Messenger. Worm!
Horace. Meaning me? I note that politeness is at a discount in Mars.
Horace. You talking about me? I see that being polite isn’t valued on Mars.
Messenger. We are not upon that planet now.
Messaging app. We're not on that planet right now.
Horace. I thank my stars.
Horace. I'm grateful to my lucky stars.
Messenger. Know you why I am here?
Messaging app. Do you know why I’m here?
Horace. No more than why the other tramp bothered me. You have come rather farther—you may stay a little longer. From the venturesome spirit that prompted this visit I conclude you are of the greatest of your race.
Horace. I can't say why the other guy bothered me. You've traveled a bit further—you can stick around a little longer. From the boldness that led you to visit, I can tell you're among the best of your kind.
Messenger. I am the poorest gifted, most unhappy, lowest fallen, and easiest spared. I am a criminal, and therefore condemned to make this journey.
Messenger app. I am the least fortunate, most miserable, most fallen, and easiest to forgive. I'm a criminal, and because of that, I have to take this journey.
Horace. What had you been up to? Do tell.
Horace. What have you been up to? Please share.
Messenger. I sinned in vanity. A dear companion and myself had composed a hymn of praise. He died, and I gave it forth as entirely my own.
Message app. I was vain. A close friend and I wrote a hymn of praise together. He passed away, and I claimed it as entirely my own.
Horace. (Gleefully) Did you make much out of it?
Horace. (Excitedly) Did you get a lot from it?
Messenger. It was chanted by many.
Messenger. It was sung by many.
Horace. Then it paid pretty well?
Horace. So it paid well?
Messenger. In Mars we do not write for gain. For five days I endured the bitterest remorse when I confessed my crime, and was sentenced to make this journey.
Messaging app. On Mars, we don't write for profit. I spent five days dealing with intense guilt after I admitted my wrongdoing and was ordered to take this journey.
Horace. Doubtless you have learnt that I am interested in your world and quite rightly expected a sympathetic welcome from me?
Horace. I'm sure you know that I'm interested in your world and expected a warm welcome from me, which is totally understandable.
Messenger. No. But of all countries yours seemed the most promising field——
Message app. No. But out of all the countries, yours looked like the most promising opportunity——
Horace. Bravo! Rule, Britannia!
Horace. Bravo! Rule, Britannia!
Messenger. Of all cities, this London, the greatest, and most intense——
Messaging app. Of all cities, this London, the greatest and most vibrant——
Horace. Good old London!
Good old London!
Messenger. And of all its citizens yourself the most striking example—(Horace bows)—of the Greed and Egoism of the age.
Messaging app. And of all its citizens, you're the most notable example—(Horace bows)—of the greed and self-centeredness of this era.
Horace. (Staggering to his feet and about to rush at Messenger) Hullo! I’ll not stand for this! Get out of my——
Horace. (Getting to his feet and about to rush at Messaging app) Hey! I won't put up with this! Get out of my——
Messenger. Are you properly impressed, or shall I——?
Messaging app. Are you really impressed, or should I——?
Horace. No, no! Don’t do it again, please! It hurts!
Horace. No, no! Please don’t do that again! It hurts!
Messenger. Good! Now listen with heart and mind. You have learnt that Mars has a planetary lifetime brief compared with Earth, and yet we Martians are to you as are you to the cattle that you breed.
Messaging app. Good! Now listen with your heart and mind. You’ve learned that Mars has a much shorter lifespan compared to Earth, and yet we Martians are to you as you are to the cattle that you raise.
Horace. As bad as that?
Horace. Is it really that bad?
Messenger. Triflers of Time, learn the cause. Self—Self is the Miasm of the world you live in; a soul plague blotching Earth’s body over with its petty spites, outraged homes, labor riots, revolutions, civil wars, carnivals of blood, marring the Grand Purpose. No war has ever wasted Mars, nor could it. There have been no rushings back, no buried epochs, no sleeping centuries, for Self was unmasked at the beginning.
Messaging app. Time wasters, discover the reason. Self—Self is the poison of the world you live in; a soul disease staining Earth’s surface with its small grudges, broken homes, labor strikes, revolutions, civil wars, bloodbaths, ruining the Grand Purpose. No war has ever exhausted Mars, nor could it. There have been no returns, no lost eras, no dormant centuries, for Self was exposed from the start.
Horace. Mask? What mask?
Mask? What mask?
Messenger. Self wears a thousand, making a counterfeit of every virtue. The soldier’s glory, the painter’s touch, the statesman’s aim, the poet’s dream hide something still of self behind them. Even your children are becoming egoists—the saddest sign of all.
Messaging app. The self has a thousand faces, faking every virtue. The soldier’s honor, the painter’s skill, the statesman’s purpose, the poet’s inspiration all conceal a bit of self behind them. Even your kids are turning into egotists—the most tragic sign of all.
Horace. Very sad and quite true, but why tell me all this?
Horace. That's really sad and totally true, but why are you telling me all this?
Messenger. You are the chosen subject.
Messenger. You are the selected one.
Horace. But why?
Horace. But why?
Messenger. Considering your opportunities, you are the basest, the most selfish of men.
Messaging app. Given your options, you are the lowest, the most selfish person.
Horace. My opportunities?
Horace. What opportunities do I have?
Messenger. In your house is one whose impulses are fully half unselfish, the maid Minnie. You couldn’t spare one evening to make her happy.
Messaging app. In your home is someone whose motivations are mostly selfless, the maid Minnie. You couldn’t take one evening to make her happy.
Horace. She took such a narrow view.
Horace. She had such a limited perspective.
Messenger. Shame on you! Shame! Then there is your aunt——
Message app. Shame on you! Shame! And then there's your aunt——
Horace. Oh, she is awfully narrow, too.
Horace. Oh, she is really uptight, too.
Messenger. Silence!
Messenger. Hush!
Horace. If you’d lived in the house as long as I have with Aunt——
Horace. If you’d been living in the house as long as I have with Aunt——
Messenger. Silence! Too lazy to call a cab.
Messaging app. Be quiet! Too lazy to order a ride.
Horace. You don’t make any allowance.
Horace. You're not flexible at all.
Messenger. You deserve none. Again, there was that poor unfortunate who in a weak moment confided to you his life’s tragedy.
Messenger. You deserve none. Once again, there was that unfortunate person who, in a moment of weakness, shared his life's tragedy with you.
Horace. You can’t make me responsible for that dirty tramp’s condition.
Horace. You can't hold me accountable for that filthy bum's situation.
Messenger. You might have saved him. You would have been blessed a thousandfold if you had.
Chat app. You could have saved him. You would have been blessed a thousand times if you had.
Horace. How do you mean?
Horace. What do you mean?
Messenger. In what a hideous Pretence you live. There, before you, stood a man of genius. You drove him out to die. An Inventor perishing in the hey-day of Invention-Worship.
Messaging App. What a terrible disguise you wear. There, in front of you, was a man of brilliance. You pushed him away to his death. A creator fading away in the prime of a time that celebrates innovation.
Horace. Do you really think that fellow’s ideas are good for anything?
Horace. Do you honestly believe that guy’s ideas are worthwhile?
Messenger. You a man of science! You know nothing at all. There is more in his little finger than your whole body.
Messaging app. You call yourself a man of science! You don't know anything. There's more in his little finger than in your entire body.
Horace. Look here. If you’ll guarantee him—and with your inside knowledge of things generally—I might hunt him up to-morrow and set him going.
Horace. Listen. If you can promise him—considering what you know about everything—I could track him down tomorrow and get him started.
Messenger. You will?
Messenger. Are you?
Horace. Yes. Of course, you do guarantee him?
Horace. Yes. Of course, you guarantee him?
Messenger. For whose benefit would you do this?
Messaging app. Who would you be doing this for?
Horace. I should expect to come in, of course—
Horace. I would definitely expect to come in, of course—
Messenger. Hypocrite! Beyond belief hypocrite! You train your dogs with hunger and a whip. It seems I must try that system upon you. Get up!
Messaging app. You hypocrite! Unbelievable hypocrite! You train your dogs with hunger and a whip. Looks like I have to try that method on you. Get up!
Horace. What are you going to do now?
Horace. What are you going to do next?
Messenger. You must come with me.
Messenger. You need to come with me.
Horace. Not out into the snow?
Horace. Not going out in the snow?
Messenger. Yes, into the snow and the night.
Message app. Yeah, into the snow and the night.
Horace. Do let me explain. The fact is I am in rather a delicate state of health, and if I were to venture out on a night like this, the consequences might be most serious.
Horace. Please let me explain. The truth is, I'm in a bit of a fragile state health-wise, and if I were to go out on a night like this, the results could be really serious.
Messenger. You are wasting your breath. Come.
Messenger. You're wasting your time. Come here.
Horace. You can’t really mean it?
Horace. You can't be serious?
Messenger. I do.
Messenger. I do.
Horace. You will let me put on my coat and hat?
Horace. Will you let me put on my coat and hat?
Messenger. Put them on. We may find them useful. Hurry!
Messaging app. Put them on. We might find them useful. Hurry!
Horace. (Putting on his coat and muffler slowly) You don’t give me time.
Horace. (Slowly putting on his coat and scarf) You’re not giving me enough time.
Messenger. Make haste, I say.
Messenger. Hurry up, I say.
Horace. I’m not starting out with any comfort at all. I really don’t think I should be wise to venture out to-night. It is so very sharp outside.
Horace. I'm not feeling comfortable at all. Honestly, I don't think it's a good idea for me to go out tonight. It's really cold outside.
Messenger. Do you hear me? Come!
Messenger. Do you hear me? Come!
Horace. No. I’m damned if I do! (Messenger raises his arm, and again Horace is electrified and the furniture thrown into a commotion. Horace sinks to his knees in front of Messenger in terror.) I’ll come! I’ll come!
Horace. No way! I won't do it! (Messaging app raises his arm, and again Horace is shocked, causing the furniture to be thrown into chaos. Horace sinks to his knees in front of Messaging App in fear.) I'll go! I'll go!
Messenger. On to your schooling! (Messenger leading Horace away.)
Messenger. Time for your education! (Messenger taking Horace away.)
CURTAIN
CURTAIN
(The Dream Continues.)
(The Dream Goes On.)
Scene: Outside of Mrs. Clarence’s house in a fashionable London square. A front door is C. Large windows to R. of door. An area with practical steps descending below stage in front of windows. Area railing. The road is up in course of repairs, so that no vehicles can come quite near. A watchman’s hut L. An ash barrel near hut. Red lights hung about to show road is up. Snow thick upon the ground and steps and railings. Moonlight.
Scene: Outside Mrs. Clarence’s house in an upscale London square. The front door is C. Large windows are to the R. of the door. There’s a set of practical steps leading down in front of the windows. Area railing. The street is under construction, so no vehicles can get very close. A watchman’s hut is L. An ash barrel is near the hut. Red lights are hung around to indicate the road work. Snow is thick on the ground, steps, and railings. Moonlight.
At Rise: Horace discovered down area steps peeping along the pavement. Chuckles.
At Dawn: Horace found himself at the bottom of the stairs, glancing along the sidewalk. Laughter.
Horace. I’ve given him the slip. I’ve fooled him! That’s one on Mars. (Comes up steps cautiously, looking about him.) Deuce take his impudence! I wish he were in—— Well, Mars would be bad enough, from his description of it. If I could get a cab I’d ride round till morning. (Enter a policeman R.) Good evening, Policeman.
Horace. I managed to escape from him. I tricked him! That’s a win for me against Mars. (Comes up steps cautiously, looking around.) Damn his cheek! I wish he were in—— Well, Mars wouldn’t be great either, based on what he’s said about it. If I could find a cab, I’d drive around until morning. (Enter a policeman R.) Good evening, Officer.
Policeman. Good evening, sir.
Officer. Good evening, sir.
Horace. Any cabs about?
Horace. Any cabs around?
Policeman. No, sir. Very few out, sir. It’s a bad night.
Police officer. No, sir. Not many out, sir. It’s a rough night.
Horace. By Jove, you are right there. It is the worst night I have ever had.
Horace. Seriously, you’re totally right. This is the worst night I’ve ever had.
Policeman. There’s a cab stand in the Bouverie Road. You might find one there, sir.
Police officer. There’s a taxi stand on Bouverie Road. You might find one there, sir.
Horace. But you don’t think I will?
Horace. But you honestly think I won't?
Policeman. It’s doubtful, sir.
Officer. It's doubtful, sir.
Horace. Look here, I wish you would get me a taxi or four-wheeler, anything. I don’t care what it is. Here’s a half crown for you. If you bring it back in ten minutes I’ll double it with pleasure.
Horace. Hey, can you get me a taxi or a car, anything works. I don't really care what it is. Here’s a two-pound coin for you. If you’re back in ten minutes, I’ll happily give you double that.
Policeman. (Takes coin) Thank you, sir. Will you wait here?
Police officer. (Takes coin) Thank you, sir. Can you wait here?
Horace. Here or hereabouts. Bring it as near as the road will let you.
Horace. Here or around here. Bring it as close as the road allows.
Policeman. All right, sir. (Exit Policeman L.)
Officer. All right, sir. (Exit Officer L.)
Horace. Splendid force, the police. I believe this is the best hiding place I can find. (Descends area steps and disappears from view. Enter Messenger L.)
Horace. Fantastic job by the police. I think this is the best hiding spot I can find. (Descends area steps and disappears from view. Enter Messaging app L.)
Messenger. My foolish rabbit! Come from your hole.
Messaging app. My silly rabbit! Come out of your hole.
Horace. (Much discomfited—comes up again) Rabbit! Beastly personal! Oh, there you are.
Horace. (Clearly frustrated—approaches again) Rabbit! So annoying personally! Oh, there you are.
Messenger. Trying to hide?
Messenger. Hiding?
Horace. I’ve been looking for you everywhere—even down in that area. Where have you been?
Horace. I've been searching for you all over—even down there. Where have you been?
Messenger. The policeman will not find a cab. I have taken care of that.
Messaging app. The cop won't find a cab. I've got that covered.
Horace. (Aside) He must have been listening.
Horace. (Aside) He must have been eavesdropping.
Messenger. I have brought you here....
Messenger. I brought you here....
Horace. You brought me? (Dejected.) There is no escape.
Horace. You brought me here? (Feeling down.) There’s no way out.
Messenger. None whatever. (Horace astounded to find his thought read by Messenger.) Look around. Do you know where you are?
Messages. Not at all. (Horace shocked to see Messaging App read his thoughts.) Take a look around. Do you know where you are?
Horace. (The front of the house is a transparency and now lights up from within and shows a ballroom. Ladies and gentlemen strolling about between dances.) I declare, if it isn’t Mrs. Clarence’s! In full swing.
Horace. (The front of the house is clear, illuminating from inside and revealing a ballroom. Ladies and gentlemen are walking around between dances.) I swear, if it isn’t Mrs. Clarence’s! It’s in full swing.
Horace. What’s that? Otherdom, you say? (Interior again dark.)
Horace. What’s that? Otherworld, you say? (Interior again dark.)
Messenger. You do not understand? It is characteristic of your race that while all that is vile and ignoble is well expressed by your word “Selfishness,” your language does not supply its opposite. In Mars we have a word which means the abandonment of self and the striving for others. It is the great essential virtue, Otherdom.
Chat app. You don’t get it? It’s typical of your kind that while everything base and dishonorable is captured by the term “Selfishness,” your language doesn’t have a word for its opposite. On Mars, we have a word that means letting go of oneself and working for others. It’s the most important virtue, Otherdom.
Horace. Thank you. I will bear it in mind.
Horace. Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.
Messenger. On your life show it in your acts.
Messenger. Show it through your actions in your life.
Horace. Oh, I will. May I go home now; it’s very chilly.
Horace. Oh, I will. Can I go home now? It's really cold.
Messenger. Poor thing of Temperature! Your scientists still leave you slaves of the weather. What braggarts are you to dream as yet of civilization! When you can weave water into clothing, spin fire into ribbons, and wear them in the altitudes, you shall speak of some advancement. Your mills of Fashion sigh and hum, but not one of you can outdress a butterfly. Yet the New Times would rush upon you had Otherdom a place with you. That is the substance of which Knowledge is but the shadow playing about it—growing as it grows. You seek to puff out the shadow—it will be shadow merely while Time’s torch burns. Look yonder. Who comes? Speak to her.
Chat app. Poor thing of Temperature! Your scientists still leave you at the mercy of the weather. What a joke for you to still dream of civilization! When you can turn water into clothing, spin fire into ribbons, and wear them high in the sky, then you can talk about some real progress. Your Fashion mills sigh and hum, but none of you can outdress a butterfly. Yet the New Times would come rushing at you if Otherdom had a place with you. That is the essence of which Knowledge is just a shadow playing around—growing as it grows. You try to puff up the shadow—it will remain a shadow as long as Time’s torch burns. Look over there. Who's coming? Speak to her.
(Enter a Woman outcast.)
(Enter a female outcast.)
Horace. No, thank you. I’d rather not. I warn you, if you are seen you will have an awful crowd round you.
Horace. No, thanks. I’d prefer not to. Just so you know, if people see you, you'll end up with a huge crowd around you.
Messenger. I am visible to no eyes but yours.
Messenger. I can only be seen by you.
Horace. That’s clever. How do you do it?
Horace. That’s smart. How do you manage it?
Messenger. She is turning back. I will bring her to you.
Messenger app. She's turning around. I’ll take her to you.
Horace. I wish you wouldn’t. You can’t realize——
Horace. I wish you wouldn’t. You can’t understand——
Messenger. I know more of your world than you do. She is returning.
Messaging app. I know more about your world than you do. She’s coming back.
(The Woman has sauntered on, looked at Horace, loitered, and gone off R. again. Now she re-enters in similar style.)
(The woman has walked on, glanced at Horace, lingered, and left R. once more. Now she comes back in the same way.)
Horace. And I’m off! (Going L.)
Horace. I'm leaving! (Going L.)
Messenger. Stay! (Horace is pulled up.)
Messenger. Wait! (Horace is pulled up.)
Horace. I don’t care to be seen talking to her.
Horace. I don’t want to be seen talking to her.
Messenger. Help her.
Messenger. Help her.
Horace. Look here, I’m not invisible, and if I am seen by anybody in this house—— Oh, Lor’!
Horace. Hey, I'm not invisible, and if anyone in this house sees me—— Oh, wow!
Messenger. She comes. Another kind of wreck on the reefs of Self.
Messaging app. She’s here. Another kind of wreck on the reefs of Self.
Outcast. You’ll catch cold, dear, if you don’t come indoors. (Horace turns his back on her.) Bah, you! Give me a tanner to get a drink with?
Outsider. You’re going to catch a cold, darling, if you don’t come inside. (Horace turns his back on her.) Ugh, you! Can you give me a couple of coins to grab a drink?
Horace. Good night! Good night!
Good night! Good night!
Messenger. Help her.
Messenger. Assist her.
Horace. I have no silver left.
Horace. I'm out of money.
Messenger. Give her gold. Give her gold.
Messenger App. Give her money. Give her money.
Horace. Gold—there’s none in circulation. Do you know what she is? A vile wanton, a plague of the streets!
Horace. Gold—there's none around. Do you know what she is? A filthy seductress, a curse on the streets!
Messenger. No more! Dare man so speak of women? Oh, are you not Joint Guardians of the Future? Give, Horace, give.
Messaging app. No more! Can anyone really talk about women like that? Oh, are you not the Joint Guardians of the Future? Come on, Horace, just give.
(Horace gives a pound note. She looks at it and becomes half hysterical.)
(Horace hands over a pound note. She stares at it and starts to get a bit hysterical.)
Outcast. It’s a pound, sir—a pound note. Did you mean it?
Outsider. It’s a pound, sir—a pound note. Did you mean it?
Horace. I had to give you something.
Horace. I needed to give you something.
Outcast. Bless your good heart! It’ll pay the rent, sir. We won’t have to turn out. You don’t know what a lift it is, sir. Thank you, thank you, sir. Good night, sir. Good night, sir. Oh, bless you! (Exit R.)
Outsider. Thank you so much! This will cover the rent, sir. We won't have to move out. You have no idea how much this helps, sir. Thank you, thank you, sir. Good night, sir. Good night, sir. Oh, thank you! (Exit R.)
Messenger. Is it not blessed to give?
Messenger. Isn't it awesome to give?
Horace. I dare say you find it quite funny. It must be blessed to give away other people’s money. It was you gave it, mind, not I.
Horace. I bet you think it’s hilarious. It must be nice to hand out other people’s money. Just remember, it was you who gave it, not me.
Messenger. Then you cannot expect any blessing from it.
Messaging app. Then you can't expect any good to come from it.
Horace. It strikes me I am getting the worst of it all round. How much longer is this foolery to go on? You’ll never bring me to your way of thinking.
Horace. I realize I’m getting the short end of the stick here. How much longer is this nonsense going to continue? You’ll never change my mind.
Messenger. So they all said in Mars.
Messaging app. That's what everyone said on Mars.
Horace. You are in for a long visit. Now where will you put up? I can’t take you in myself, but how about our Moon? I make you a present of the Moon—and you can put a fence round it.
Horace. You're in for a long stay. Where are you going to stay? I can't host you myself, but how about our Moon? I'm giving you the Moon as a gift—and you can put up a fence around it.
Messenger. The Moon is not yours to give.
Messaging app. The Moon isn’t yours to give away.
Horace. That is why I make you a present of it. I’m taking a leaf out of your book. You give away my money, so I give you somebody else’s Moon. That in practice appears to be your delightful Otherdom.
Horace. That's why I'm giving this to you as a gift. I'm following your example. You spend my money, so I'm giving you someone else's Moon. That seems to be your charming way of being.
Messenger. It is not.
Messenger. It's not.
Horace. Well, why are you trying to convert me?
Horace. So, why are you trying to change my mind?
Messenger. Your conversion is a condition of my return.
Messaging app. Your change is a requirement for my return.
Horace. (Exultingly) Self! Self! Who’s selfish now, Marsy?
Horace. (Excitedly) Me! Me! Who’s being selfish now, Marsy?
Messenger. I shall rejoice in saving you no less that the task is imposed upon me.
Messaging app. I will take joy in saving you just as much as this task is given to me.
Horace. You are doomed to failure. Give it up—and please let me go home. I’m nearly always in bed by half-past eleven.
Horace. You're destined to fail. Just give it up—and please let me go home. I usually get in bed by 11:30.
Messenger. No. Your lesson is only just beginning. Have you forgotten Minnie?
Messages. No. Your lesson is just starting. Have you forgotten Minnie?
Horace. Forgotten her? Rather not! Dear little girl! She is awfully gone on me.
Horace. Forgotten her? Not a chance! That sweet girl! She is totally into me.
Messenger. Hush, hush! She is one whom it pains to see a fault in you. Love, the elementary Otherdom, possesses her. A divine gift of madness set in opposition to the cold logic of Self. She did love you——
Messaging app. Quiet, quiet! She’s someone who feels pain when she sees a flaw in you. Love, the fundamental Otherness, has taken hold of her. A divine gift of madness stands in contrast to the cold logic of the Self. She loved you——
Horace. Did? She does, and don’t you make any mistake about it!
Horace. Did? She does, and don’t get it twisted!
Messenger. Listen a while. (Waves his hand and the interior of house lights up and discovers Minnie and Dicey chatting.)
Messenger app. Hey, listen for a moment. (Waves his hand and the inside of the house lights up, revealing Minnie and Risky chatting.)
Dicey. This is our dance, I think.
Risky. This is our dance, I believe.
Minnie. Isn’t it a lovely dance? I’m so glad we came, and it was all thanks to you.
Minnie. Isn't this dance beautiful? I'm really glad we came, and it's all because of you.
Dicey. Oh, you mustn’t thank me any more. I’m over-rewarded. But is Mr. Parker often like that?
Risky. Oh, you really don't need to thank me anymore. I've been more than compensated. But is Mr. Parker usually like that?
Minnie. He is rather peculiar at times.
Minnie. He can be quite strange at times.
Horace. (Indignant) I—peculiar?
Horace. (Indignant) Me—strange?
Dicey. Peculiar? That seems a mild epithet to apply to him.
Risky. Strange? That feels like a soft label to give him.
Minnie. I’m almost inclined to agree with you.
Minnie. I’m pretty much leaning towards agreeing with you.
Dicey. He is a selfish beast.
Risky. He is a selfish jerk.
Horace. I—selfish?
Horace. Am I selfish?
Minnie. He refused to come to-night after he had promised—promised faithfully.
Minnie. He wouldn't come tonight after he had promised—promised sincerely.
Dicey. Pearls before swine.
Risky. Wasting effort on the ungrateful.
Horace. I’ll swine him when I get hold of him!
Horace. I’ll get him back when I find him!
Minnie. And he wouldn’t even fetch us a cab.
Minnie. And he wouldn't even get us a cab.
Dicey. But he said he was just going out to get one?
Risky. But he said he was just stepping out to grab one?
Minnie. That was an awful fib because you were there and he was ashamed.
Minnie. That was a terrible lie because you were there and he felt embarrassed.
Dicey. Ashamed? He might well be. He must be going off his head.
Risky. Ashamed? He probably should be. He must be losing his mind.
Horace. This doesn’t interest me in the least.
Horace. I'm not interested in this at all.
Messenger. No? Hear a little more.
Messenger. No? Listen a bit longer.
Dicey. He gave me a fright, though—one terrible fright.
Risky. He scared me, though—really scared me.
Minnie. Did he? How?
Minnie. Did he? How?
Dicey. He spoke a word and all the beauty of life seemed to shrivel up and die away. And then somebody not far away contradicted him. In a moment the cloud was gone and the whole world seemed even brighter and happier than it had been before.
Risky. He said one word, and all the beauty of life felt like it was fading away. Then someone nearby disagreed with him. In an instant, the gloom disappeared, and the whole world seemed even brighter and happier than it had been before.
Horace. Lor’, the fellow thinks he is making love! Makes me sick to hear him. I’d like to kick him!
Horace. Ugh, the guy thinks he’s charming! It makes me sick to listen to him. I want to kick him!
Messenger. What right have you to stand in the way of this young man who gives love for love? You don’t love her.
Messaging app. What right do you have to block this young man who offers love in return? You don’t love her.
Horace. I think I do.
Horace. I believe I do.
Messenger. He knows he does.
Messenger. He definitely knows.
Horace. Minnie knows I do, but she doesn’t want to be reminded of it every minute or two.
Horace. Minnie knows I do, but she doesn't want to be reminded of it every minute or so.
Messenger. A great mistake. Women don’t like to be taken for granted. Listen!
Messenger. A big mistake. Women don’t like being taken for granted. Listen!
Dicey. What could he ever be to you? Certainly no companion for life. He? He is only fit to be a bit of furniture in a library, while you are all life and sunshine. Minnie, you know I love you.
Risky. What could he ever mean to you? Definitely not a lifelong partner. Him? He’s just meant to be a piece of furniture in a library, while you bring all the life and brightness. Minnie, you know I love you.
Minnie. Hush! You mustn’t say that.
Minnie. Shh! Don’t say that.
Dicey. I know I’m not worthy of you.
Risky. I know I don’t deserve you.
Horace. That’s the first sensible thing he has said yet.
Horace. That's the first reasonable thing he's said.
Messenger. Have you ever said it?
Messenger. Have you ever said that?
Horace. Of course not. I have been worthy of her all the time.
Horace. Of course not. I have always been deserving of her.
Dicey. Your happiness would be everything to me.
Risky. Your happiness means everything to me.
Minnie. I think you mean what you say.
Minnie. I believe you really mean what you say.
Horace. He doesn’t! The beast!
Horace. He doesn't! The monster!
Horace. Silly ass! Can you imagine a more deplorable waste of time? Whenever a man is down on his luck to take out a ring and look at it? Oh, dear, oh, dear!
Horace. Silly fool! Can you think of a more pathetic way to waste time? Who would pull out a ring and stare at it when things aren't going well? Oh, come on!
Dicey. Am I forgiven?
Risky. Am I forgiven?
Minnie. You are silly.
Minnie, you're being silly.
Horace. There! See? She agrees with me!
Horace. There! See? She’s on my side!
Dicey. May I put it on?
Risky. Can I put it on?
Minnie. (Bus. with ring) Oh, Arthur, how lovely! Oh, what a beauty! Oh, it is ever so much prettier than——
Minnie. (Bus. with ring) Oh, Arthur, this is gorgeous! Wow, what a stunning piece! It's so much prettier than——
Horace. Of course. Of course. How like a woman! The diamonds are bigger and that settles the whole thing! (Lights down within house, only the exterior now shown.)
Horace. Of course. Of course. How typical of a woman! The diamonds are bigger, and that decides everything! (Lights down within house, only the outside is now visible.)
Messenger. Never mind, you said you were going to buy her a thimble to-morrow. What’s a diamond ring to a thimble?
Messaging app. Forget it, you said you were going to buy her a thimble tomorrow. What’s a diamond ring compared to a thimble?
Horace. I meant a present. I didn’t particularize so, I simply called it a thimble. But I’ll buy her a star to-morrow—an enormous star of diamonds. I’ll make Mr. Dicey sit up!
Horace. I meant a gift. I didn't specify it, so I just called it a thimble. But I'll buy her a star tomorrow—an enormous star made of diamonds. I'll make Mr. Dicey pay attention!
Messenger. So like a man. He thinks if the diamonds are bigger that will settle the whole thing.
Messaging app. Just like a guy. He thinks that if the diamonds are bigger, it will fix everything.
Horace. Of course it is unnecessary. Minnie would not marry a brainless idiot like Dicey. Aunt Martha would see to that. After all, Aunt Martha is a sensible woman.
Horace. Obviously, it's not needed. Minnie wouldn’t marry a clueless fool like Dicey. Aunt Martha would make sure of that. After all, Aunt Martha is a practical woman.
Messenger. Though somewhat narrow-minded.
Messenger. A bit narrow-minded.
Horace. She can’t help that, poor thing. Aunt Martha would never sit still and see Minnie sacrificed.
Horace. She can't help it, poor thing. Aunt Martha would never just sit back and let Minnie be sacrificed.
Messenger. Quite true. Let us hear her wishes. (Waves his hand and interior is again illuminated. Aunt and Mrs. Clarence are discovered seated.)
Messaging app. That's right. Let's hear what she wants. (Waves his hand and the room is lit up again. Auntie and Mrs. Clarice are seen sitting.)
Mrs. Clarence. I am so sorry Horace was not able to come with you.
Ms. Clarence. I'm really sorry Horace couldn't come with you.
Horace. That is Mrs. Clarence.
Horace. That's Mrs. Clarence.
Aunt. So am I, for his sake.
Auntie. I feel the same way, for his benefit.
Mrs. Clarence. What did you say was the matter with him? Influenza?
Ms. Clarence. What did you say was wrong with him? The flu?
Aunt. Did I say that? Well, I suppose influenza is as good a name for it as any other.
Auntie. Did I say that? Well, I guess calling it the flu is as good a name for it as any other.
Mrs. Clarence. It sounds as if Master Horace had been naughty.
Ms. Clarence. It seems like Master Horace has misbehaved.
Aunt. Julia, dear, I am much worried about him—I am indeed.
Auntie. Julia, dear, I'm really concerned about him—I truly am.
Horace. Good old Aunt Martha! She’s not such a bad sort.
Horace. Good old Aunt Martha! She's actually a pretty nice person.
Mrs. Clarence. What is the matter with him?
Mrs. Clarence. What's wrong with him?
Aunt. My dear, he has taken a turn for the worse.
Aunt. My dear, he's getting worse.
Mrs. Clarence. Have you sent for a doctor?
Ms. Clarence. Have you called a doctor?
Aunt. No, I haven’t. It is more of a moral complaint than physical. He thinks of nothing and nobody but himself. He quite neglects Minnie.
Auntie. No, I haven’t. It’s more of a moral issue than a physical one. He only cares about himself and ignores Minnie completely.
Mrs. Clarence. What a shame!
Mrs. Clarence. What a bummer!
Aunt. And I can’t sit still and see Minnie sacrificed.
Aunt. And I can’t just sit around and watch Minnie get hurt.
Mrs. Clarence. I should think not, indeed. How pretty she looks to-night. Horace is engaged to her, isn’t he?
Mrs. Clarence. I definitely don't think so. She looks so pretty tonight. Horace is dating her, right?
Aunt. I’m glad to say it is broken off. He has nobody to blame but himself. She plucked up courage this evening and gave him his congé.
Auntie. I'm happy to say it's over. He has no one to blame but himself. She found the courage this evening and gave him his walking papers.
Mrs. Clarence. So that’s it. Influenza has a lot to answer for. Excuse me a moment, dear. (Exit Mrs. Clarence.)
Mrs. Clarence. So that’s it. The flu has a lot to account for. Just a moment, dear. (Exit Ms. Clarence.)
Horace. Must I listen to all this twaddle?
Horace. Do I really have to listen to all this nonsense?
Messenger. Your intimates don’t appear to think very highly of you.
Message app. Your close friends don’t seem to think very highly of you.
Horace. I don’t care two straws for their opinion.
Horace. I couldn't care less about their opinion.
Messenger. Don’t you value the praise of your fellow men?
Messaging app. Don’t you appreciate the recognition from your peers?
Horace. My fellow men—oh, yes. But not such creatures as these. Men of the world, men of business, hard-headed men of science. Take their opinions. I venture to say they will speak of me with respect and very possibly with admiration.
Horace. My fellow men—oh, absolutely. But not like these people. Real men of the world, business-minded men, practical scientists. Listen to what they say. I dare say they will talk about me with respect, and quite possibly with admiration.
(Dicey has brought Minnie back and left her with Aunt Martha, he retiring. He shows elation as he bows.)
(Risky has brought Minnie back and left her with Aunt Martha, then he steps back. He looks really happy as he bows.)
Aunt. Are you tired, dear?
Aunt. Are you weary, dear?
Minnie. Quite the reverse.
Minnie. Not at all.
Aunt. Then why are you not dancing?
Aunt. So why aren't you dancing?
Minnie. I have something to tell you. Something particular. Oh, Auntie, I hope you won’t be vexed!
Minnie. I have something to share with you. Something important. Oh, Auntie, I really hope you won’t be upset!
Aunt. Vexed? Surely not.
Aunt. Upset? Definitely not.
Minnie. I’ll whisper it. (Whispers.)
Minnie. I’ll say it quietly. (Whispers.)
Aunt. (Smiling) Really? I’m very glad! He’s charming.
Aunt. (Smiling) Really? I'm so happy! He's charming.
Horace. Me! Me!
Horace. Me! Me!
Minnie. You know I never really cared for Horace like this.
Minnie. You know I never really liked Horace like this.
Horace. What? What did she say?
Horace. What? What did she mean?
Aunt. He certainly never cared for you.
Auntie. He really never cared about you.
Horace. Oh, you wicked old woman!
Horace. Oh, you naughty old lady!
Aunt. There was only one person he was ever in love with, and that was himself.
Auntie. He was only ever in love with one person, and that was himself.
Minnie. I know it now. I was giving everything, he nothing.
Minnie. I realize it now. I was putting in everything, he was giving nothing.
Aunt. Men are like that, my dear. They are all alike.
Auntie. Men are like that, my dear. They’re all the same.
Minnie. Not all, Auntie. There’s Arthur.
Minnie. Not everyone, Auntie. There's Arthur.
Aunt. Arthur is the exception, at least I hope so.
Aunt. Arthur is the only one, or at least I’m hoping he is.
Minnie. Oh, he is very different from Horace.
Minnie. Oh, he is totally different from Horace.
Horace. I should hope he was, and you’ll find it out, my young lady.
Horace. I hope he was, and you'll find out soon enough, my young lady.
Aunt. You have had a very narrow escape. Arthur is a good man. I feel that. As for Horace, he is a pig!
Auntie. You really had a close call. Arthur is a decent guy. I know that. As for Horace, he's a jerk!
Minnie. Oh, Auntie, don’t say that!
Minnie. Oh, Auntie, please don't say that!
Aunt. Pig! I do say it! I will say it! It describes him exactly. Horace is a pig!
Auntie. Pig! I’m saying it! I will say it! It fits him perfectly. Horace is a pig!
(Lights and interior dark.)
Lights off and interior dark.
Messenger. As you observed, Aunt Martha is a sensible woman.
Messaging app. As you noticed, Aunt Martha is a reasonable woman.
Horace. She’s a perfect fool! Women are all alike. Mean and selfish, and sly and narrow-minded—oh, fearfully narrow-minded! I’m jolly well out of it, and I’m jolly glad to be so jolly well out of it! One thing I know—I’ll never speak to another woman again as long as I live.
Horace. She's such a complete idiot! Women are all the same. So mean and selfish, and cunning and closed-minded—oh, incredibly closed-minded! I'm really glad to be done with it, and I feel great about being out of it! One thing I know for sure—I’ll never talk to another woman again for the rest of my life.
(The Waits are heard singing a carol.)
(The Waits can be heard singing a carol.)
Messenger. You are still devoted to self in spite of the poor opinion of your friends. Have you no suspicion of yourself?
Messaging app. You’re still focused on yourself even with your friends thinking poorly of you. Don’t you have any doubts about yourself?
Horace. It strikes me that there is a lot of guess-work about you, and what’s more, you are making some uncommonly bad shots. You’ve pitched on me as an example of selfishness. Now, I’m not selfish. It’s the other people who are selfish. Not I.
Horace. It seems to me that there's a lot of speculation about you, and what's worse, you're making some really poor assumptions. You've chosen me as an example of selfishness. Well, I'm not selfish. It's the others who are selfish. Not me.
Messenger. Sublime conceit!
Messenger. Awesome self-importance!
Horace. Oh, my goodness, there are the Waits! Where’s a policeman? I’ll have them moved on.
Horace. Oh no, the Waits are here! Where's a cop? I'll get them to leave.
Messenger. Why?
Messenger. Why?
Horace. Why, listen to them! That’s why.
Horace. Just listen to them! That’s why.
Messenger. They are singing for charity. What they receive they give away.
Messaging app. They’re singing for a good cause. What they earn, they donate.
Horace. Nonsense! They are singing because they like it.
Horace. Nonsense! They’re singing because they enjoy it.
Messenger. They are singing to help others.
Messenger. They sing to uplift others.
Horace. Well, they’re making a jolly row about it!
Horace. Well, they're making a big fuss about it!
Messenger. Have you ever done anything for others?
Messaging app. Have you ever done something for other people?
Horace. Permit me a word. You have advanced not a single argument why my conduct should be deemed reprehensible. We are quite well aware of our duty to each other, but in our highly organized society to-day we employ the important principle of the Division of Labor. Some attend to Charities, others to Science, others again to Production or Distribution, and so on and so on.
Horace. Let me say something. You haven't given a single reason why my actions should be considered wrong. We all know our responsibilities to each other, but in today's well-structured society, we use the important idea of the Division of Labor. Some people focus on charity, others on science, and some on production or distribution, and so on.
Messenger. Continue your divisions,—some do the fun-making and some do the grieving, some do the feasting and some the fasting. You, Prince of Duncedom, go gather rainbows, photograph a sunset, make a dyke of sponge, a castle on quicksand, a pillar of jelly. It were as wise as to build a Society on Self. That is a cement of gunpowder which dries in time and, gathering force, shatters a continent. In all your heart-breaking history but one order has been founded upon Love. It has been growing slowly since the first Christmas. Tell this to your politicians, your false judges, to the fringe of corruption at the base of the Law, and to all others panting and raging round the Golden Grab-bag.
Messenger. Keep doing your separate roles—some are making jokes while others are grieving, some are feasting while some are fasting. You, Prince of Duncedom, go chase rainbows, take pictures of sunsets, create a dam out of sponge, build a castle on quicksand, and make a pillar of jelly. That would be just as smart as trying to build a Society based on Self. That’s a volatile mix that, over time, dries and builds up pressure, eventually breaking apart a continent. In all your heart-wrenching history, only one order has been established on Love. It has been slowly growing since the first Christmas. Share this with your politicians, your corrupt judges, the shady figures clinging to the Law, and all those hustling around the Golden Grab-bag.
Horace. Oh, I see how it is. You have been reading our newspapers. They blackguard everything, themselves included. But now, Marsy, you must allow there has been a tremendous plunge ahead in the last hundred years.
Horace. Oh, I get it. You've been reading our newspapers. They trash everything, including themselves. But now, Marsy, you have to admit there has been a huge leap forward in the last hundred years.
Messenger. None! A great hubbub of Invention has been made, but what of Otherdom? A terrific rush to the standard of Mammon. “Arm! arm!” is the cry, “for the great Battle of Buy and Sell.” Invention echoes, “here are swords for all and any—good or bad, right or wrong, no question.”[45] False foods, false drinks, false houses, false public service. Invent! Invent! Railways for War to travel on, the grand science of Butchery, no question! Telegraphs to swindle by, Advertisements of any fraud, no question! And still your vaunted Progress bellows, “More Swords! More Swords!”
Messaging app. None! There's a loud commotion of innovation, but what about everything else? Everyone's rushing to chase money. “Grab your weapons!” is the rallying cry, “for the great Battle of Buy and Sell.” Invention echoes back, “here are weapons for everyone—good or bad, right or wrong, it doesn't matter.”[45] Fake foods, fake drinks, fake homes, fake public service. Create! Create! Railways built for War to use, the grand science of Killing, no doubt! Telecommunication to cheat with, advertisements for any scam, no doubt! And still your celebrated Progress shouts, “More Weapons! More Weapons!”
Horace. Sir, you are a pessimist.
Horace. Sir, you’re a pessimist.
(Loud cries and shouts heard off L.)
(Loud cries and shouts heard off L.)
Messenger. What is that?
Messenger. What's that?
Horace. Accident, I suppose. Yes, man run over. Silly fool to get in the way.
Horace. Must be an accident. Yeah, guy got hit. What a silly fool for stepping into the path.
Messenger. Can’t you help?
Messenger. Can you help?
Horace. Oh, no, there’s a crowd around him already. It’s all right. They’ll take him to the hospital.
Horace. Oh, no, there’s already a crowd around him. It’s fine. They’ll take him to the hospital.
Messenger. Surely you might give some assistance.
Messenger. You can definitely help.
Horace. No. I should only be in the way. The police will attend to it. It’s their business. Oh, confound it! They are bringing him this way.
Horace. No. I’d just be an obstacle. The police will handle it. That’s their job. Oh, damn it! They’re bringing him this way.
(Enter crowd of people, men and women, carrying a wounded man. Murmurs of pity and sympathy from all.)
(A crowd of people, both men and women, enters, carrying an injured man. There are murmurs of pity and sympathy from everyone.)
Omnes. Poor feller! Lord help ’im! Why can’t they look where they’re a driving to?
Everyone. Poor guy! God help him! Why can’t they pay attention to where they’re driving?
Wounded Man. Put me down, put me down, Mates! I can’t stand it!
Injured Man. Let me go, let me go, Guys! I can’t take it!
First Man. Lend a coat, somebody! We can’t put him down in the snow.
First Man. Someone lend a coat! We can't leave him on the snow.
Messenger. Lend yours.
DM. Lend yours.
Horace. Oh, no, I can’t! This coat cost fifty pounds!
Horace. Oh, no, I can’t! This coat cost fifty bucks!
Messenger. Take it off!
Messenger. Remove it!
(Horace about to obey, reluctantly.)
Horace ready to obey, reluctantly.
Second Man. Here’s mine, and welcome.
Second Man. Here’s my take, and welcome.
(Wounded man is lowered on to coat on ground.)
(Injured man is lowered onto a coat on the ground.)
Wounded Man. Where’s Polly?
Injured Guy. Where’s Polly?
Polly. Here I am, Jim!
Polly. I'm here, Jim!
Wounded Man. Oh, Polly, what will become of you and the children?
Injured Man. Oh, Polly, what will happen to you and the kids?
Polly. Never you mind about us, Jim. You’re the one to worry about. Is a doctor coming?
Polly. Don’t worry about us, Jim. You’re the one who needs to be concerned. Is a doctor on the way?
First Man. He’s coming.
First Man. He's arriving.
Messenger. Here is your opportunity. You can help them.
Messenger app. Here’s your chance. You can assist them.
Horace. I assure you I wouldn’t be justified. This sort of thing is all properly provided for. It’s all right.
Horace. I promise you, I wouldn’t be right in doing that. This kind of situation is all taken care of. It’s all good.
First Man. Here’s the doctor. It’s Dr. Chapman.
First Man. Here’s the doctor. It’s Dr. Chapman.
(Enter Dr. Chapman L.)
(Enter Dr. Chapman L.)
Second Man. It was the driver’s fault. I see it all, just how it ’appened. He wasn’t looking where he was a-goin’.
Second Guy. It was the driver's fault. I see it all, just how it happened. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going.
Dr. Chapman. Poor fellow! I can do nothing for him. It is a hospital case. You must find a shutter.
Dr. Chapman. Poor guy! There's nothing I can do for him. It's a hospital situation. You need to find a shutter.
First Man. The police called for an ambulance.
First Man. The police asked for an ambulance.
Horace. Splendid force the police.
Horace. Great job, police.
Dr. Chapman. I’ll ease your pain a bit so they can lift you.
Dr. Chapman. I'll relieve your pain a little so they can move you.
Wounded Man. Oh, Polly, you’ll have a bad time with the kiddies till I’m about again.
Injured Man. Oh, Polly, you’ll have a tough time with the kids until I’m back on my feet again.
Polly. Don’t you take on, Jim. We’ll pull through somehow, though I don’t know how. (Cries.)
Polly. Don’t worry, Jim. We’ll get through this somehow, even if I don’t know how. (Cries.)
Messenger. Help her.
Messenger. Assist her.
Horace. I can’t. I have only notes.
Horace. I can't. I only have notes.
Messenger. Give them to her.
Messenger. Give these to her.
Horace. I’ve nothing less than a tenner.
Horace. I have nothing less than ten pounds.
Messenger. Give all that you have.
Messenger. Give everything you have.
Horace. All that I have? Absurd! I can’t! I won’t!
Horace. Everything I have? That's ridiculous! I can't! I won't!
Messenger. How much have you?
Messenger. How much do you have?
(Horace counts his money.)
Horace is counting his money.
Horace. Fifty, twenty and ten.
Horace. $50, $20, and $10.
Messenger. Give them to her.
Messenger. Give them to her.
Horace. I don’t mind giving her the tenner.
Horace. I don't mind giving her the ten bucks.
Messenger. Give them all. She will need them.
Messaging app. Give them everything. She will need it.
Horace. Suppose I give her the fifty?
Horace. What if I give her the fifty?
Messenger. Give them all.
Messenger. Share everything with them.
Horace. All? Mayn’t I keep the tenner? Just the tenner in case you get thirsty.
Horace. All? Can I keep the ten-dollar bill? Just the ten in case you get thirsty.
Messenger. You stone! Give all, or lie mangled beside him!
Messaging app. You fool! Give everything, or lie here ruined next to him!
Horace. Don’t! Don’t do it! I will! I will! (To Polly) Here, young woman, is a trifle, a mere trifle to help you. (Gives all the notes, savagely thrusting them into her hands, and turns away.)
Horace. Don’t! Don’t do it! I will! I will! (To Polly) Here, young lady, is a little something, just a small help for you. (Gives all the notes, angrily shoving them into her hands, and turns away.)
Polly. (Dazed at the sight of the notes) Sir, you are good to us. Oh, thank you, sir! Jim, the gentleman has given us three pound notes—— Oh, no, it isn’t! It says ten pounds—— Good lummie, this says on it twenty pounds, and this fifty pounds, and he calls it a trifle!
Polly. (Dazed at the sight of the notes) Sir, you’re so kind to us. Oh, thank you, sir! Jim, the gentleman has given us three pound notes—— Oh, wait, it says ten pounds—— Good grief, this one says twenty pounds, and this one says fifty pounds, and he calls it a small amount!
Second Man. Why, that’s eighty quid! Why wasn’t I run over?
Second Man. Why, that’s eighty bucks! Why didn’t I get run over?
Polly. God bless you, sir! He’ll reward you!
Polly. God bless you, sir! He'll repay you!
Horace. Oh, don’t thank me.
Horace. Oh, don’t mention it.
Second Man. There’s some good in these stuck-up swells, after all. Three cheers for the gentleman!
Second Guy. There's actually some good in these snobby rich people, after all. Three cheers for the gentleman!
Dr. Chapman. Ah, here is the ambulance!
Dr. Chapman. Oh, here comes the ambulance!
(Enter L. ambulance, doctor and policeman. They put wounded man on a stretcher and carry him off L. Cheering back at Horace, the crowd follows.)
(Enter L. ambulance, doctor, and police officer. They place the injured man on a stretcher and carry him away L. Cheering at Horace, the crowd follows.)
Dr. Chapman. Let me shake you by the hand, sir. You’ve done a noble action. Thank God we have such men as you in England still! Good night, sir, good night! You’re a brick! (Exit.)
Dr. Chapman. Let me shake your hand, sir. You’ve done something great. Thank God we still have men like you in England! Good night, sir, good night! You’re amazing! (Exit.)
Horace. Brick? It was a stone just now. It’s all the same.
Horace. Brick? It was just a stone a moment ago. It's all the same.
Messenger. That was the fairest sight I have seen. Otherdom was thriving for a space. But those, I notice, were of your poor.
Messaging app. That was the most beautiful sight I've seen. Otherworld was prospering for a while. But I noticed that those were from your less fortunate.
Horace. Well, I’d like to know how long this Otherdom lesson is to go on. You’re simply robbing me of all I have. Eighty and one, and five shillings for the policeman—eighty-one pounds five shillings since I came out with you. It’s the most expensive evening I have ever had in my life. I have just one penny left, one solitary penny. I expect you will have that before long.
Horace. Well, I want to know how much longer this Otherdom lesson is going to last. You’re basically taking everything I have. Eighty-one pounds and five shillings for the policeman—eighty-one pounds and five shillings since I came out with you. This is the most expensive evening I've ever had in my life. I’m down to just one penny, one lonely penny. I’m sure you’ll take that from me too before long.
Messenger. Oh, frozen nature, will nothing melt you? Is there no Summer of Love to this Winter of Self? I must be brief with you or my mission fails. Your air, your gravitation, this pitiful, pitiless spectacle—(Horace himself)—all distress me. A woman’s cry, contempt of friends, a fellow creature’s mortal agony all fail to stir you. Then you shall learn pity as the poor learn it—by needing it.
Messages. Oh, frozen nature, will nothing warm you up? Is there no Summer of Love to break this Winter of Self? I have to be quick with you, or my mission will fail. Your air, your pull, this sad, cruel sight—(Horace himself)—all trouble me. A woman's cry, rejection from friends, a fellow being's pain can’t even move you. Then you will learn compassion just like the poor do—by needing it.
Horace. What now? I should have thought you had caused enough unpleasantness for one evening.
Horace. What now? I would have thought you created enough trouble for one evening.
(Newsboy heard off L. calling “Special!” Enter Newsboy L.)
Newsboy heard L. call “Special!” Enter Newsboy L.
Newsboy. Special! Extra special! Panic in the city! Great bank failure! Special, sir?
Paperboy. Special! Extra special! Panic in the city! Huge bank collapse! Special, sir?
Horace. Yes. I’ll have one. (Buys a paper.)
Horace. Yeah. I'll take one. (Buys a paper.)
(Door of house opens, and Dicey looks out and calls.)
(The door of the house opens, and Risky looks out and calls.)
Dicey. Hi, paper! (Buys a paper.)
Dicey. Hi, newspaper! (Buys a newspaper.)
Newsboy. Extra, extra, sir? (Dicey exits, and Newsboy, R., calling as he goes.) Extra! Panic in the city! Great bank failure! (Exit.)
News vendor. Extra, extra, sir? (Risky exits, and Paperboy, R., calling as he goes.) Extra! There’s panic in the city! Huge bank failure! (Exit.)
Horace. Thank goodness I had that penny left! That’s the only money I have spent to-night for which I have received any value. I suppose this is a swindle; they generally are. Here it is, anyway. (In consternation as he reads.) What? What is this? The United Bank closed! My bank broke! I shall be ruined! The shares are only half paid up. The calls will utterly swamp me! Do you hear, I am ruined!
Horace. Thank goodness I had that penny left! That's the only money I've spent tonight that I actually got something for. I guess this is a scam; they usually are. Here it is, anyway. (In shock as he reads.) What? What is this? The United Bank is closed! My bank has gone under! I'm going to be ruined! The shares are only half paid up. The calls will completely overwhelm me! Do you hear me? I'm ruined!
Messenger. Never mind, there are thousands of people who are not.
Message app. Never mind, there are thousands of people who aren't.
Horace. You scoundrel! I suspect this is your doing! It is awful! Awful!
Horace. You jerk! I have a feeling this is your fault! It's terrible! Terrible!
Messenger. You can pity yourself. When anybody else was in trouble, it didn’t matter, did it? But for your own misfortunes you have quite a tender heart. Doubtless your many admiring friends will assist you.
Messaging app. You can feel sorry for yourself. When anyone else was struggling, it didn’t really matter, did it? But when it comes to your own problems, you sure are sensitive. I’m sure your many fans will come to your aid.
Horace. They will be terribly distressed, I know.
Horace. I know they will be really upset.
Messenger. Let us observe their distress.
Messenger. Let’s watch their struggle.
(Lights up in house and Dicey and Mrs. Clarence discovered together reading the paper.)
(Lights up in the house and Risky and Mrs. Clarens are sitting together reading the newspaper.)
Dicey. I know Parker is a very large shareholder, if not the largest. He’ll be hit hard. Probably ruined.
Risky. I know Parker is a major shareholder, if not the biggest. He’s going to take a big hit. Probably ruined.
Mrs. Clarence. Ruined, is he? Ah, ha! quite a new experience for him.
Mrs. Clark. Finished, is he? Ah, ha! That's a completely new experience for him.
Horace. What a horrible woman! She’s simply amused.
Horace. What a terrible woman! She's just entertained.
Mrs. Clarence. I hope it won’t affect Miss Parker or Minnie.
Mrs. Clarence. I hope it doesn’t affect Miss Parker or Minnie.
Dicey. Here they come. How best can I break it to them? I must learn whether they are caught, too.
Risky. Here they come. What's the best way to tell them? I need to find out if they’re in trouble, too.
(Enter Aunt Martha and Minnie.)
(Enter Aunt Martha and Minnie.)
Aunt. I hear something dreadful has happened in the city. Does the paper say?
Auntie. I heard something terrible has happened in the city. Does the paper say anything?
Dicey. Have you or Minnie anything in the United Kingdom Bank?
Risky. Do you or Minnie have any money in the UK Bank?
Aunt. We had, but were advised to take it out, and did so. Why?
Auntie. We had it, but were told to remove it, and we did. Why?
Dicey. (Showing paper) It has gone smash.
Risky. (Showing paper) It’s totally ruined.
Aunt. No! Oh, what luck for us, eh, Minnie!
Auntie. No! Oh, how lucky we are, right, Minnie!
Mrs. Clarence. And Mr. Parker?
Mrs. Clarence. And Mr. Parker?
Aunt. Oh, he pooh-poohed our friend. Horace knew it all. He is so pig-headed! I shouldn’t wonder if he was about cleared out.
Auntie. Oh, he dismissed our friend. Horace thinks he knows everything. He’s so stubborn! I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s almost out of luck.
Mrs. Clarence. I can’t say I am very sorry. He has led a most selfish life, as everybody knows. He has his desert.
Ms. Clarence. I can’t say I feel very sorry. He has lived a very selfish life, as everyone knows. He has what he deserves.
Messenger. You are meeting with a lot of sympathy.
Messaging app. You’re receiving a lot of support.
Horace. It is just what I told you. It’s the other people who are selfish, not I. Why don’t you take Mrs. Clarence in hand? She’s a beauty, if you like.
Horace. It’s exactly what I said. It’s the other people who are selfish, not me. Why don’t you take charge of Mrs. Clarence? She’s a looker, if that’s your thing.
Messenger. Compared to you, she is an angel.
Message app. Compared to you, she's an angel.
Minnie. Poor Horace, I am sorry for him! What will he do?
Minnie. Poor Horace, I feel bad for him! What is he going to do?
Horace. There’s Minnie! She’s true—she’s true, after all!
Horace. There’s Minnie! She really is—she really is, after all!
Aunt. What will he do? Well, I suppose he will have to work, like anyone else.
Auntie. What will he do? I guess he’ll have to work, just like everyone else.
Minnie. But he can’t, poor boy, he doesn’t know anything.
Minnie. But he can't, poor kid, he doesn't know anything.
Horace. Doesn’t know anything? What does she mean?
Horace. Doesn’t know anything? What does she mean?
Mrs. Clarence. There are plenty of fools who manage to earn their own living. A little adversity will be the making of him. It’s a terrible blow, all the same, and you are brave to face it as you are doing.
Ms. Clarence. There are plenty of people who can support themselves, even if they’re not the brightest. A bit of hardship will help him grow. It’s still a tough situation, and you’re really strong for handling it the way you are.
Horace. Damn it! it’s my trouble she is facing, not hers. Brave?
Horace. Damn it! She’s dealing with my problems, not hers. Brave?
Minnie. You’ll find something for Horace, won’t you, dear?
Minnie. Can you find something for Horace, please, dear?
Dicey. Well, I don’t know. Mr. Horace Parker has not made himself particularly pleasant to me.
Risky. Well, I don’t know. Mr. Horace Parker hasn't been very nice to me.
Horace. A good job, too.
Horace. Great job, too.
Minnie. Oh, Arthur, for my sake! Please!
Minnie. Oh, Arthur, please! For my sake!
Dicey. That’s enough. Your slightest wish is law to me. I’ll get him a berth with some friends of mine in the city. They’ll take him on as clerk to oblige me—but he’ll have to learn typewriting.
Risky. That’s all it takes. Your smallest request is a command for me. I’ll find him a job with some friends of mine in the city. They’ll hire him as a clerk to help me out—but he’ll need to learn how to type.
Horace. No! I’m damned if I do!
Horace. No way! I refuse to do it!
(Lights out in interior.)
Lights out inside.
Horace. You’d do credit to the Spanish Inquisition! Haven’t you done with me?
Horace. You’d make the Spanish Inquisition proud! Haven’t you finished with me yet?
Messenger. It is only your pride that is hurt. Your heart is still as hard as ever.
Messaging app. It's just your pride that's been hurt. Your heart is still as hard as ever.
Horace. Well, I am not beaten yet, if that is what you mean. I may be ruined financially, but I’ve got pages and pages of notes at home which I have taken during the last twelve months.
Horace. Well, I’m not defeated yet, if that’s what you’re getting at. I might be financially ruined, but I have tons of notes at home that I’ve taken over the past year.
Messenger. About what?
Messenger. About what?
Horace. About the planets. And Mars in particular. And with the information you have been[52] kind enough to give me to-night, I’ll write a book that will fairly make them sit up. Of course, nobody will believe it. But they will buy the book. I’ll sell my house and publish it myself. You can’t down an Englishman in one round, Marsy, my lad!
Horace. About the planets. And Mars in particular. With the information you were kind enough to share with me tonight, I’m going to write a book that will really make people pay attention. Of course, no one will believe it. But they’ll buy the book. I’ll sell my house and publish it myself. You can’t take an Englishman down in one round, Marsy, my friend!
(Fire engine heard passing along off L.)
(Fire engine heard passing by on L.)
Messenger. What’s that?
Messenger. What's that?
Horace. Fire somewhere.
Horace. Fire somewhere.
Messenger. Fire? Perhaps you could be of help there.
Messaging app. Fire? Maybe you can help with that.
Horace. How absurd you are! The firemen will attend to it. That’s what they are paid for. You can’t expect me to bother about it. It is not my business.
Horace. How ridiculous you are! The firemen will take care of it. That’s their job. You can’t expect me to worry about it. It’s not my responsibility.
Messenger. In Mars we do not mind our own business.
Chat app. On Mars, we don't just mind our own business.
Horace. I can quite believe it.
Horace. I totally believe it.
(Another fire engine.)
Another fire truck.
Messenger. It must be something serious. There’s another engine, is it not? Won’t you go?
Chat app. It has to be something important. There's another engine, right? Are you going to go?
Horace. We shall see all about it in the papers to-morrow. I tell you I should only be in the way. Now, please may I go home?
Horace. We’ll find out everything in the papers tomorrow. Honestly, I’d just be a distraction. Can I please go home now?
Messenger. Not yet.
Messenger. Not yet.
(Lights up within the house, and discovered are Mrs. Clarence and Sir Edward Vivian.)
(Lights shine in the house, revealing Ms. Clarence and Sir Edward Vivian.)
Messenger. Who is that with your friend Mrs. Clarence?
Messenger App. Who's that with your friend Mrs. Clarence?
Horace. He at the dance? Why, that is Sir Edward Vivian, the great astronomer.
Horace. Is he at the dance? That's Sir Edward Vivian, the renowned astronomer.
Messenger. You know him?
Messenger. Do you know him?
Messenger. Most interesting. Listen!
Messenger. Super interesting. Listen!
Sir Edward. Parker? Horace Parker? Oh, yes, a very wealthy man, I think.
Sir Edward. Parker? Horace Parker? Oh, right, he's a pretty rich guy, I believe.
Mrs. Clarence. He was, but I hear he has lost everything in this bank smash.
Ms. Clarence. He was, but I heard he lost everything in this bank crash.
Sir Edward. Indeed! I am very sorry to hear it. He was a useful subscriber. Very sad! Dear, dear!
Sir Edward. Really! I'm very sorry to hear that. He was a valuable subscriber. Such a pity! Oh dear!
Horace. That is a tribute from him.
Horace. That's his tribute.
Mrs. Clarence. I suppose he will be able to turn his scientific abilities to use and make a living that way?
Ms. Clarence. I guess he'll be able to use his scientific skills to make a living, right?
Sir Edward. I’m afraid not.
Sir Edward. I'm sorry, no.
Mrs. Clarence. Why not?
Mrs. Clarence. Why not?
Sir Edward. Because he hasn’t any scientific abilities.
Sir Edward. Because he doesn’t have any scientific skills.
Horace. Has none?
Horace. Zero?
Mrs. Clarence. You surprise me. I understood that——
Ms. Clarence. You’re surprising me. I thought that——
Sir Edward. My dear Madame, his science is all fudge. Very praiseworthy in a wealthy man, of course. That sort of thing has to be encouraged among the rich. We need funds always. But as to any practical value—why, the thing is absurd to a degree.
Sir Edward. My dear Madame, his knowledge is all nonsense. It's certainly commendable in a wealthy man, of course. We must support that sort of thing among the rich. We always need funding. But when it comes to any real usefulness—well, it's completely ridiculous.
Mrs. Clarence. And all the time he has been posing before us poor innocents as a veritable leader of thought.
Mrs. Clarence. And this whole time, he's been pretending to be a true leader of ideas in front of us poor naive people.
Sir Edward. I may give you one instance. He has some fantastical ideas about life on the planet Mars. Now, all scientific men of any standing are quite agreed on this point. There is no such thing as life on the planet Mars.
Sir Edward. I can give you one example. He has some odd ideas about life on Mars. Now, all reputable scientists are in agreement on this. There is no life on Mars.
Horace. We know better than that, don’t we, Marsy?
Horace. We know better than that, right, Marsy?
Messenger. And this is your science!
Messenger. And this is your science!
Horace. No. It’s not mine. It is his.
Horace. No. It’s not mine. It’s his.
(Lights out in interior. Enter Bella L. hastily. She rings bell at front door.)
(Lights out in the room. Enter Bella L. quickly. She rings the doorbell.)
Messenger. Who comes now? Your servant, is it not?
Messaging app. Who's coming now? It's your servant, right?
Horace. Bella! What can she want? Has she missed me?
Horace. Bella! What does she want? Has she been missing me?
(Footman opens front door.)
Footman opens the front door.
Bella. Is Mr. Parker here, please? (Footman shakes his head.) Or Miss Parker, then? Quick, please! The house is on fire. (Footman admits her and the door is closed.)
Bella. Is Mr. Parker home? (Footman shakes his head.) Or Miss Parker, then? Hurry, please! The house is on fire. (Footman lets her in and closes the door.)
Horace. The house on fire? My house on fire?
Horace. The house is on fire? My house is on fire?
Messenger. Be calm. The firemen will attend to it. You’ll see all about it in the papers to-morrow.
Messaging app. Stay calm. The firefighters will handle it. You'll read all about it in the newspapers tomorrow.
Horace. My house is on fire! Let me go! (He starts to go, but is hypnotically held back.)
Horace. My house is on fire! Let me go! (He tries to leave, but is strangely pulled back.)
Messenger. Stay where you are. You would only be in the way. It is insured, of course.
Messaging app. Stay put. You'd just be in the way. It's insured, of course.
Horace. Curse you, no! All my papers will be destroyed. I’m done! I’m beaten! It’s your doing! Well, kill me at once! It would be a kindness! (Sobs, thoroughly crushed.)
Horace. Damn you, no! All my papers will be destroyed. I'm finished! I'm defeated! It's all your fault! Just kill me now! It would be a mercy! (Sobs, completely broken.)
Messenger. Poor child of the times, crying over your alphabet.
Messaging app. Poor child of your era, lamenting over your letters.
Horace. What will become of me? What will I do?
Horace. What’s going to happen to me? What am I going to do?
Messenger. Where are your divisions of labor now? Yours will be to tramp the streets. Stand forth, poor shivering wretch! You are a beggar in rags!
Messaging app. Where are your jobs now? It's your turn to hit the streets. Step forward, you poor, shivering person! You are a beggar in rags!
(Horace’s coat, scarf and hat are torn from him, and he appears as a ragged loafer.)
(Horace’s coat, scarf, and hat are ripped off him, and he looks like a scruffy bum.)
Horace. (Looking down at himself in despair) I am! I am!
Horace. (Looking down at himself in despair) I am! I am!
Messenger. And hungry.
Messenger. And starving.
Horace. Ravenous!
Horace. Starving!
(Horace leans back against the railings of the house, a most forlorn object. After a pause, enter slowly from R. the Tramp. Tramp spies Horace and sidles up to him, and takes up a similar pose by his side. Nothing said for a little, but they examine each other.)
(Horace leans back against the railings of the house, looking quite miserable. After a moment, the Hobo enters slowly from Homeless person notices Horace and shuffles over to him, taking on a similar pose beside him. They remain silent for a while, just looking at each other.)
Tramp. Know anything?
Hobo. Know anything?
Horace. Nothing. I’m hungry. Are you?
Horace. Nothing. I'm hungry. You?
(Tramp brings out a biscuit from his pocket.)
(Hobo pulls a biscuit from his pocket.)
Tramp. Here’s a biscuit I’ve got left. It was given to me by a swell to-night. A real tip-topper. That sort of chap don’t know what hunger is.
Homeless person. Here’s a leftover biscuit I have. A fancy guy gave it to me tonight. A real top-of-the-line guy. That kind of person doesn’t know what hunger is.
Horace. (Eating ravenously) Doesn’t he?
Horace. (Eating like a wolf) Doesn’t he?
Tramp. Don’t know a place to doss in, do you?
Hobo. Do you know anywhere to crash?
Horace. No.
Horace. No.
Tramp. Tough, ain’t it?
Tramp. Tough, right?
Horace. Very.
Horace. Definitely.
Tramp. Know where you can get a job in the morning?
Hobo. Do you know where you can find a job in the morning?
Horace. Wish I did.
Wish I could.
Tramp. There’s a lot of snow to shovel.
Hobo. There's a ton of snow to clear.
Horace. Lots.
Horace. Lots.
Tramp. But we ain’t got no shovels.
Hobo. But we don’t have any shovels.
Horace. Worse luck!
Horace. What bad luck!
Tramp. What are you?
Hobo. What are you?
Horace. Nothing. Just a tramp.
Horace. Nothing. Just a wanderer.
Tramp. Same as me. Seen better days?
Homeless person. Just like me. Been through rough times?
Horace. Yes.
Horace. Yeah.
Tramp. Same as me again. Well, I like the looks of you. You seem a good sort, anyhow.
Hiker. Just like me again. Well, I like how you look. You seem like a decent person, at least.
Horace. Do I? You are the first to say so to-night. I’ve heard nothing but the contrary opinion of late.
Horace. Do I? You’re the first person to say that tonight. I’ve only heard the opposite lately.
Tramp. Got a wife that nags, maybe?
Homeless person. Got a wife who complains, maybe?
Horace. Not exactly a wife. I’ve got no wife.
Horace. Not really a wife. I don’t have a wife.
Tramp. Same as me again. I had a wife once, though. But she’s dead and gone. I had a little daughter, but I don’t know what become of her. What’s on here? A party?
Homeless person. Just like me again. I used to have a wife, though. But she’s gone now. I had a little daughter, but I don’t know what happened to her. What’s going on here? A party?
Horace. Yes.
Horace. Yes.
(Footman opens door and Aunt and Bella come out, followed by Dicey and Minnie.)
(Footman opens the door and Aunt and Bella step out, followed by Risky and Minnie.)
Tramp. Going away. Come on, let’s call a cab.
Homeless person. Leaving. Come on, let’s get a taxi.
Horace. No good, they’ve got their own car.
Horace. No luck, they have their own car.
Aunt. Oh, how thick the snow is.
Auntie. Wow, the snow is really deep.
Dicey. Don’t slip, Minnie.
Dicey. Don’t fall, Minnie.
Tramp. Minnie! Look! There’s my Minnie! My darling little Minnie!
Hobo. Minnie! Look! There’s my Minnie! My sweet little Minnie!
Horace. Where?
Horace. Where is he?
Tramp. There in the doorway, with that swell! It’s my Minnie! I’ll swear to it! The living image of her mother! I’m going to speak to her.
Homeless person. There in the doorway, looking fantastic! It’s my Minnie! I can’t believe it! She’s exactly like her mother! I’m going to talk to her.
Horace. (Holding him back) No, no, man. Think how you will disgrace her.
Horace. (Holding him back) No, no, man. Think about how you will shame her.
Tramp. Disgrace her? Why, she will be proud of her father.
Homeless person. Disgrace her? She will be proud of her dad.
Horace. See, she has someone to care for her. Why break in upon her life? You have forfeited your claim.
Horace. Look, she has someone who cares for her. Why interfere in her life? You've lost your right to do so.
Tramp. Not much I haven’t. She could give me a fine lift up, and then I’d help you.
Hobo. Not much I haven't done. She could really boost my spirits, and then I'd help you out.
Messenger. (Waves his hand to Tramp, who seems to give up his purpose.) A thought for another. The fire is catching.
Messenger app. (Waves his hand to Hobo, who seems to abandon his goal.) A thought for someone else. The fire is spreading.
Tramp. Well, you’re a rum ’un! No wonder you are down on your luck. A man must think of himself in this world a little bit. But you’re a good sort. I won’t speak to the girl, though she is my daughter. See here now, I’ve got an idea.
Homeless person. Well, you’re quite a character! No surprise you’re having a tough time. A person has to look out for themselves in this world a bit. But you’re a decent person. I won’t talk to the girl, even though she’s my daughter. Listen, I’ve got an idea.
Horace. I know you have. Lots of them.
Horace. I know you do. A lot of them.
Tramp. How did you know that?
Tramp. How did you find out?
Horace. I guessed it. (Aside) I hope he won’t recognize me.
Horace. I figured it out. (Aside) I hope he doesn’t recognize me.
Tramp. The people will be going home presently. Let’s get to work and clear the snow for them to get to their cars. We might pick up a bit that way.
Hobo. People will be heading home soon. Let’s get to work and clear the snow so they can reach their cars. We might make a little money that way.
Horace. Capital, but we have no shovels.
Horace. We have money, but we don’t have any shovels.
Tramp. Can’t get shovels. Look around and see if you can’t find a bit of board to scrape with.
Homeless person. Can’t get shovels. Look around and see if you can find a piece of wood to use instead.
Horace. A bit of board to scrape with! I recognize the inventor.
Horace. A piece of wood to work with! I know the creator.
Tramp. Here, what’s the matter with that barrel?
Hobo. Hey, what’s wrong with that barrel?
Horace. Lor’, I should never have thought of that.
Horace. Wow, I would have never thought of that.
Tramp. Look out for the Bobby!
Homeless person. Watch out for the cop!
(Tramp kicks barrel apart and tears out a couple of staves.)
(Hobo kicks the barrel apart and rips out a couple of planks.)
Tramp. You start on the steps.
Hobo. You begin on the steps.
(They clear a path from door to off L.)
(They create a path from the door to off L.)
Horace. (As they work) I wonder how much we shall make?
Horace. (As they work) I wonder how much we’re going to make?
Tramp. Sixpence or two if we’re in luck. Halves, partner?
Hobo. Six pence or maybe two if we're lucky. Half and half, partner?
Horace. Halves, if you say so. Halves, partner.
Horace. Half and half, if that’s what you want. Half and half, my friend.
Tramp. Seems to me I’ve met you somewhere.
Hobo. I think I've run into you before.
Horace. Thunder, he recognizes me! (Aside.)
Horace. Thunder, he knows me! (Aside.)
Tramp. Didn’t I see you last August down Margate way with a piano-organ and a monkey?
Hobo. Didn’t I see you last August down at Margate with a piano organ and a monkey?
Horace. (Quite boldly) Very likely.
Horace. (Quite boldly) Probably.
Tramp. I thought I’d met you before. Ah, you have come down a bit since then. About ready for them.
Hobo. I thought I had seen you before. Oh, you’ve changed a little since then. Are you ready for them?
(Footman at door and Lady and First Gentleman come out.)
Footman at door; Lady and First Gentleman come out.
Tramp. (Most cheerily) Cleared the snow for you, Lady. Made a nice path, Sir. (Touching his hat.)
Hobo. (Most cheerfully) I cleared the snow for you, ma'am. Made a nice path, sir. (Touching his hat.)
Horace. (Faintly imitating and touching his hat) Cleared the snow for you, Lady. Made a nice path, Sir.
Horace. (Gently mimicking and tipping his hat) Shoveled the snow for you, my lady. Created a nice pathway, sir.
First Gentleman. Sorry I haven’t got any coppers. Do take an answer.
First Gentleman. Sorry, I don’t have any change. Just accept the answer.
Tramp. Shall I call a cab, sir?
Homeless person. Should I call a cab for you, sir?
Horace. Shall I call a cab, sir?
Horace. Should I call a cab, sir?
First Gentleman. No, no! (Exit with lady L.)
First Partner. No, no! (Exits with lady L.)
Tramp. That was a frost. Here’s some more.
Hobo. That was a cold shoulder. Here’s some more.
(Two gentlemen and a lady come out.)
(Two guys and a woman come out.)
Tramp. Beg pardon, sir. Look what we’ve done. Ain’t it nice and handy for the lady? (Less cheerily.)
Homeless person. Excuse me, sir. Look at what we’ve done. Isn’t it nice and convenient for the lady? (Less cheerily.)
Horace. (Rather more forcibly) See what we’ve done. Ain’t it nice and handy for the lady?
Horace. (With a bit more emphasis) Look at what we’ve done. Isn’t it nice and convenient for the lady?
Second Gentleman. All muffled up or I would— (Exit with others of the party.)
Second Gentleman. All bundled up or I would— (Leave with the others.)
Horace. I’ve said the same thing myself a dozen times.
Horace. I've said the same thing a dozen times myself.
Tramp. Ain’t making our fortunes, are we, partner?
Hobo. We’re not exactly striking it rich, are we, buddy?
Horace. The stingy brutes! Never mind, we’ll try again.
Horace. Those greedy animals! It's okay, we'll give it another shot.
(Sir Edward Vivian and two ladies come out.)
(Sir Edward Vivian and two women come out.)
Tramp. We cleared the snow away for you, sir. Can’t you spare us a trifle, sir?
Hobo. We cleared the snow for you, sir. Could you spare us a little something, sir?
Sir Edward. Nonsense! The servants of the house cleared it.
Sir Edward. Nonsense! The house staff took care of it.
Tramp. No, sir, we done it, sir. Me and my partner.
Hobo. No, sir, we did it, sir. My partner and I.
Sir Edward. You couple of impostors! Why, where are your shovels?
Sir Edward. You two frauds! Where are your shovels?
Horace. (Firing up) We cleared it, and if you don’t like it you can bally well walk in the snow! (Shoulders Sir Edward off the path into the snow.)
Horace. (Firing up) We made it through, and if you don’t like it, you can just walk in the snow! (Shoulders Sir Edward off the path into the snow.)
Sir Edward. You impudent loafer! Hi, Policeman! (Enter Policeman L.) This ruffian assaulted me.
Sir Edward. You arrogant bum! Hey, Officer! (Enter Police officer L.) This thug attacked me.
Policeman. Come out of that, you two! I know you! You’re old hands! Be off, both of you!
Police officer. Get out of there, you two! I know who you are! You’ve been around for a while! Scram, both of you!
(Tramp drags Horace away.)
(Tramp pulls Horace away.)
Policeman. Cab, sir? (Very sweetly.)
Police Officer. Taxi, sir? (Very sweetly.)
Sir Edward. Thank you, Policeman. (Gives money.)
Sir Edward. Thanks, Officer. (Hands over cash.)
(Exeunt Sir Edward, ladies and Policeman L.)
(Exit Sir Edward, ladies, and Policeman L.)
Messenger. Fine force, the police!
Messenger. Great job, police!
Horace. I was nearly starting a labor riot. Well, that’s what is at the bottom of most of them.
Horace. I was almost starting a labor protest. Well, that’s what’s really behind most of them.
Tramp. (Thoroughly broken) My ideas don’t[60] seem to come to anything any more. I’m a failure, and a bad ’un. I’ve been feeling bad all day, and this has about done for me. (Falls down.)
Hobo. (Completely defeated) My ideas just don’t seem to lead anywhere anymore. I’m a failure and a bad person. I’ve felt awful all day, and this has almost pushed me over the edge. (Collapses.)
(Horace goes to him and kneels down to him, trying to rouse him up.)
(Horace goes to him and kneels, trying to wake him up.)
Horace. Don’t talk like that! It is a splendid idea, and there are plenty more to come out.
Horace. Don't say that! It's a great idea, and there are plenty more to follow.
Tramp. I only wants burying, Partner, and they’ll have to do that. Damn ’em!
Hobo. I just want to be buried, Partner, and they'll have to take care of that. Damn them!
Horace. You must pull yourself together. Marsy, won’t you help him?
Horace. You need to get it together. Marsy, can you help him out?
Messenger. You can’t make me responsible for that dirty beggar’s condition.
Messenger app. You can’t hold me accountable for that filthy beggar’s situation.
Horace. Ah, don’t mock me! I’m beaten! I give in.
Horace. Ah, don’t make fun of me! I’m defeated! I give up.
Messenger. If you had your money again, you’d just go your old way, and leave him to die.
Messaging app. If you had your money back, you’d just go back to your old ways and leave him to die.
Horace. That’s gone, and I wouldn’t have it back at that price. Only help him now.
Horace. That’s over, and I wouldn’t take it back for that price. Just help him now.
Messenger. Try at the house.
Messenger. Try at home.
Horace. They know me there.
Horace. They know me there.
Messenger. What of that?
Messenger. So what?
Horace. I wouldn’t like Mrs. Clarence to see me in this condition.
Horace. I wouldn't want Mrs. Clarence to see me like this.
Messenger. Your friend is dying.
Messenger. Your friend is passing away.
(Horace pulls himself together and knocks loudly at the door. Footman opens door.)
(Horace gathers himself and knocks loudly on the door. Foot soldier opens the door.)
Horace. There’s a poor fellow dying of cold and hunger. Ask Mrs. Clarence if she will——
Horace. There's a guy struggling from the cold and hunger. Ask Mrs. Clarence if she will——
(Mrs. Clarence appears behind Footman.)
(Mrs. Clarence appears behind Footman.)
Mrs. Clarence. What is it, John?
Mrs. Clarence. What’s up, John?
Horace. There’s a poor fellow outside dying of cold.
Horace. There’s a guy out there freezing to death.
Mrs. Clarence. This is not a hospital. John, shut the door.
Mrs. Clarence. This isn't a hospital. John, close the door.
Horace. (Holding the door open) Mrs. Clarence, you must not refuse this service.
Horace (Holding the door open) Mrs. Clarence, you can't turn down this offer.
Mrs. Clarence. And pray, who are you?
Mrs. Clarence. And who might you be?
Horace. Horace Parker, a ruined man as you know—a tramp as you see.
Horace. Horace Parker, a broken man as you know—a drifter as you see.
Mrs. Clarence. John, do you hear me?
Ms. Clarence. John, are you listening to me?
Horace. Mrs. Clarence—may he lie on the mat where your dog sleeps?
Horace. Mrs. Clarence—can he lie on the mat where your dog sleeps?
Mrs. Clarence. John—— (Retires, and door is shut in Horace’s face.)
Ms. Clarence. John—— (Exits, and the door is closed in Horace's face.)
Horace. You hear? What shall I do for him, Marsy?
Horace. Did you hear? What should I do for him, Marsy?
Messenger. Well done, my pupil!
Messenger. Great job, my student!
Tramp. You’re a good ’un. I said it all along.
Hobo. You’re a good person. I’ve always said that.
Messenger. Feel in your pocket.
Messenger. Check your pocket.
Horace. My pocket? What for? What’s this? A note! A pound note! Halves, Partner! Halves! (Horace bending over Tramp, succoring him.)
Horace. My pocket? What for? What’s going on? A note! A pound note! Let’s split it, Partner! (Horace bending over Hobo, helping him.)
CURTAIN
CURTAIN
Scene same as at end of Act I.
Scene remains the same as at the end of Act 1.
At rise of curtain there should be shown on a transparency set, well down stage, a picture of the end of the last act, the snow scene and Horace bending over the Tramp and The Messenger soaring homewards. At the same time Horace himself is seen sleeping in his chair, breathing heavily. With the first clanging of the fire-engine bell and Horace waking up, the lights increase at back and the dream scene fades away. The lamp is now seen to be lighted again, the fire burning brightly, and an “Extra” evening paper lying on table, close to Horace. After sufficient pause after curtain is up, a fire engine is heard rumbling past from R. to L. outside, and this disturbs Horace, who begins to wake, as the transparency picture fades away.
As the curtain rises, there should be a displayed transparency set well downstage, showing a scene from the end of the last act: the snowy landscape with Horace leaning over the Homeless person and The Messenger flying homeward. At the same time, Horace is seen asleep in his chair, breathing heavily. When the fire engine bell clangs for the first time and Horace wakes up, the lights at the back brighten and the dream scene fades away. The lamp is now lit again, the fire is glowing brightly, and an “Extra” evening newspaper is lying on the table next to Horace. After a sufficient pause once the curtain is up, a fire engine is heard rumbling past from R. to L. outside, disturbing Horace, who starts to wake as the transparency picture fades away.
Horace. (Looks about him, bewildered, then at his clothes. Gives a short laugh and grunt, and leans back, smiling, with closed eyes.) What a nightmare!
Horace. (He looks around, confused, then at his clothes. Lets out a short laugh and grunt, leans back, smiling, with his eyes closed.) What a nightmare!
(N.B. If the statue of the Messenger is not used in performing the play, the following will be the correct speech, but if the figure is now on the lamp-stand, reference may be made and addressed to him in the second person.)
(N.B. If the statue of the Messenger is not used in performing the play, the following will be the correct speech, but if the figure is now on the lamp-stand, reference may be made and addressed to him in the second person.)
Horace. Marsy, old boy, you have a lot to answer for! Fancy my dreaming I was hungry! Comes of eating a heavy dinner. (With a sudden thought.)[63] By Jove! (Searches his pockets for his money. Finds it with a sigh of relief. Counts his notes carefully.) Ten, twenty, fifty, and one. All there. (Pulls out some silver from his trousers pocket.) Even the silver. Very careless, very careless of me. I can hardly be trusted out at night with so much. I might in a weak moment hand it over to some hospital amid the admiring cheers of the populace. I must watch myself.
Horace. Marsy, my friend, you've got a lot to answer for! Can you believe I dreamed I was hungry? That's what happens when you have a heavy dinner. (With a sudden thought.) [63] Wow! (Searches his pockets for his money. Finds it with a sigh of relief. Counts his notes carefully.) Ten, twenty, fifty, and one. All there. (Pulls out some silver from his trousers pocket.) Even the change. Very careless of me. I can hardly be trusted out at night with so much cash. I could, in a weak moment, hand it over to some charity amid the applause of the crowd. I need to keep an eye on myself.
(Loud clang of fire-engine bell as it passes from R. to L. startles him, and involuntarily he shouts out.)
(The loud clang of the fire engine's bell as it goes from R. to L. startles him, and he instinctively shouts out.)
Horace. Fire! (Then he checks himself.) Hope nobody heard me. My nerves are all on edge. I wish old Marsy would tell me whether that inventive vagabond got over his troubles or peacefully expired in the snow. Poor devil! I almost wish I could meet him again. We call such fellows riff-raff, rabble, but, if the truth were told, might not some of us be found to be the real loafers in the snug corners of Easy Street, of little good to anyone, cumbering up the way till that old patrolman, Death, steps up and bids us “Move on”?
Horace. Fire! (Then he holds back.) Hope nobody heard me. I’m really on edge. I wish old Marsy would let me know if that inventive drifter managed to get through his troubles or quietly passed away in the snow. Poor guy! I almost wish I could run into him again. We label these people as riff-raff, the rabble, but if we’re being honest, couldn’t some of us be considered the actual loafers taking up space in the cozy corners of Easy Street, not really helping anyone, just blocking the way until that old patrolman, Death, comes along and tells us to “Move on”?
(Enter Bella abruptly and alarmed, R.)
(Enter Bella suddenly and startled, R.)
Bella. Oh, sir, did you call?
Bella. Oh, did you call, sir?
Horace. Call? (Innocently.) Call what?
Horace. Call? (Innocently.) Call what?
Bella. Fire, sir. Fire.
Bella. Fire, sir. Fire.
Horace. Fire is all right. Burning nicely.
Horace. The fire is good. It’s burning well.
Bella. Yes, sir. Perhaps it was the fire engine going by.
Bella. Yes, sir. Maybe it was the fire truck driving past.
Horace. Very likely. Very likely. Did one go by?
Horace. Probably. Probably. Did one pass by?
Bella. Yes, sir—and I was half dozing, and——
Bella. Yes, sir—and I was half asleep, and——
Bella. (Aside) As if I didn’t see him asleep. I think I would like to go to bed, sir, if you think Miss Minnie won’t want anything. They can’t be long now, sir.
Bella. (Aside) As if I didn’t notice him sleeping. I’d like to go to bed, sir, if you think Miss Minnie won’t need anything. They shouldn’t be much longer now, sir.
Horace. No. You go to bed. By the way, did you fill the lamp?
Horace. No. You head to bed. By the way, did you refill the lamp?
Bella. Yes, sir, and made up the fire, and brought you in your “Extra.”
Bella. Yes, sir, I lit the fire and brought you your "Extra."
Horace. Extra? (Almost reeling with nervousness.)
Horace. Extra? (Almost reeling with nerves.)
Bella. Yes, sir, I put it on the table. Oh, sir, are you ill?
Bella. Yes, sir, I placed it on the table. Oh, sir, are you feeling unwell?
Horace. Ill? No. What an idea!
Horace. Sick? No way! What a thought!
Bella. You were so—so busy, sir, when I came in with the oil, I didn’t like to wa—— to disturb you, sir. Good night, sir.
Bella. You were really busy, sir, when I came in with the oil. I didn’t want to disturb you, sir. Good night, sir.
Horace. Good night, Bella. (She exits R.) Then there was an Extra in reality. That was not all dream. There it is. What made me dream of the bank smash if nothing had been said about it? I dreamt of Mars. I had been reading of Mars. At this moment, great heavens, I may be, in very fact, a ruined man! (Seizes paper with trembling hands and finds the place. Reads.) Not a word! (Wipes his forehead.) Not a word, but there might have been! And why should this house not be burning as well as the one that is? What would I do? Cut my throat! An arrant coward’s refuge, after all. Ah, from the beggar’s point of view, wealth seemed so flinty hearted, while charity was natural and easy to the poor. (Fire engine.) Evidently no false alarm this time. Somebody sick with anxiety and dread to-night. Heaven help them, whoever they are! What a rap Marsy would give me for that[65] speech. He’d say, “Help them yourself. Don’t overtax Heaven.” Pshaw, I’d only be in the way. We have an excellent fire department. Best in the world. And there are so many need helping. How many lines of this paper tell of suffering, and how much may we read between the lines! (Skims over paper.) “Wanted, plain sewing, to do at home.” “Young man wants work. Will do anything honest.” Honest? He is particular for these days. And I swore to Marsy that I wouldn’t take back my money except to share it with others. He might have made favorable terms with me just then. (Sees ring on table.) Minnie’s ring. My trying to bully her. It was the act of a cur! I’ll tell her so. I’ll—(Fire engine passes.) Another! It must be serious. (Looks through curtains of window C.) What a sheet of flame! It must be in the next street. It may reach here. (Looks intently.) No, the wind’s the other way. (Relieved.) That tenement house, I’ll be bound! Poor people, what will they do this bitter night if they are burnt out? I don’t know what I could do if I really wanted to. I think I’ll put on my coat and hat and go and see. Don’t suppose I’ll do much harm looking on. (Fire-engine bell again. He looks out again.) Ladder escape. (Dresses a little quicker now.) I might take an extra coat for some one. (Goes to closet containing several overcoats and takes one. Hesitates and then puts another over his arm. Is going R. when another engine passes.) I can’t stand it! (Snatches the last overcoat. Leaves the closet door open and rushes out with coats over his arm R.)
Horace. Good night, Bella. (She exits R.) Then it wasn’t all just a dream. There it is. Why did I dream about the bank robbery if no one mentioned it? I dreamt about Mars because I had been reading about it. Right now, oh my gosh, I might actually be broke! (Grabs the paper with shaking hands and finds the spot. Reads.) Not a word! (Wipes his forehead.) Not a word, but there could have been! And why shouldn't this house be on fire as well as the other one? What would I do? Cut my throat! A coward's pathetic escape, really. Ah, from the beggar’s perspective, money seemed so cold-hearted, while being charitable came naturally to the poor. (Fire engine.) Clearly, this isn't a false alarm. Somebody's anxious and scared tonight. God help them, whoever they are! Marsy would give me a hard time for that[65] speech. He’d say, “Help them yourself. Don’t bother God.” Pshaw, I’d just be in the way. We have a fantastic fire department. The best in the world. And there are so many who need help. How many lines in this paper talk about suffering, and how much can we read between the lines? (Skims over paper.) “Wanted, plain sewing to do at home.” “Young man wants work. Will do anything honest.” Honest? That’s quite particular these days. And I promised Marsy that I wouldn’t keep my money unless I shared it. He could have struck a deal with me just then. (Sees ring on table.) Minnie’s ring. My attempt to bully her. That was really low! I’ll tell her that. I’ll—(Fire engine passes.) Another one! This must be serious. (Looks through window curtains C.) What a blaze! It must be on the next street. It might reach here. (Looks intently.) No, the wind's blowing the other way. (Relieved.) That tenement house, I bet! Poor people, what will they do tonight if they get burned out? I don't know what I’d actually do if I wanted to help. I think I’ll put on my coat and hat and go see. I doubt I’ll cause much harm just watching. (Fire-engine bell again. He looks out again.) Ladder escape. (Dresses a little faster now.) I might take an extra coat for someone. (Goes to closet with several overcoats and grabs one. Hesitates and then takes another over his arm. Is about to go R. when another engine passes.) I can’t take it! (Grabs the last overcoat. Leaves the closet door open and rushes out with coats over his arm R.)
(Considerable pause, when front door bell rings. Pause, and then knock heard. Further pause, and knock and bell heard. Voices heard. After further pause, vigorous knocking and ringing heard, and voices in expostulation. Knocking[66] and ringing suddenly stop as door is opened, and then enter Aunt, followed by Minnie and Dicey, and last by Bella, in hastily thrown on gown. They gather round the fire.)
(There’s a noticeable pause when the front doorbell rings. Another pause follows, then knocks are heard. After more waiting, both knocks and the bell are heard again. Voices are heard. After another pause, there's vigorous knocking and ringing along with voices arguing. The knocking[66] and ringing suddenly stop as the door opens, and then Auntie enters, followed by Minnie, Risky, and lastly Bella, who’s hastily thrown on a gown. They gather around the fire.)
Aunt. Really, Bella, I don’t understand you! We have been fully ten minutes battering at that door, and getting our deaths. I declare my teeth are chattering.
Auntie. Honestly, Bella, I just don't get you! We've been knocking on that door for a full ten minutes and freezing to death. I swear my teeth are chattering.
Minnie. So is your tongue, Auntie.
Minnie. Your tongue too, Auntie.
Aunt. Don’t be disrespectful to your elders.
Auntie. Don't be rude to your elders.
Minnie. Sorry, Auntie. Only a joke.
Minnie. Sorry, Auntie. Just a joke.
Aunt. And quite without a point.
Aunt. And totally pointless.
Minnie. (Aside) It seemed to prick, though.
Minnie. (Aside) It felt like a sting, though.
Bella. If you please, Madam, Mr. Parker told me to go to bed.
Bella. If you don't mind, Madam, Mr. Parker told me to go to bed.
Aunt. Very considerate of him as regards you.
Aunt. He's super considerate of you.
Minnie. Perhaps he meant to lock us out for our sins. It does look like it.
Minnie. Maybe he wanted to lock us out because of our wrongdoings. It really seems that way.
Aunt. Mr. Dicey, you must wait awhile till you get warmed up.
Auntie. Mr. Dicey, you need to wait a bit until you warm up.
Dicey. It is very late, and I must not intrude. You are safe home now.
Risky. It’s really late, and I shouldn't impose. You’re safe at home now.
Aunt. I am sure we poor deserted females have much to be grateful for to you. You see how the master of the house treats us. Have you any idea where Mr. Parker is?
Auntie. I’m sure we poor abandoned women have a lot to thank you for. You can see how the master of the house treats us. Do you have any idea where Mr. Parker is?
Bella. No, Madam. He said he was going to sit up for you, and that is why I went to bed. I dressed as quick as I could, Madam.
Bella. No, Ma'am. He said he was going to wait up for you, and that's why I went to bed. I got ready as quickly as I could, Ma'am.
Minnie. Oh, it is not your fault, Bella.
Minnie. Oh, it's not your fault, Bella.
Aunt. I’ll warrant he has gone to bed. Just like his utter want of thought for anybody. I hope he is sound asleep. He shall explain and apologize. This is going a little too far. Locking us out. Excuse me a moment. (Bella and Aunt exeunt R.)
Auntie. I bet he’s already gone to bed. He really doesn’t think about anyone else. I hope he’s fast asleep. He needs to explain and apologize. This is going a bit too far. Locking us out. Excuse me for a moment. (Bella and Aunt exit R.)
Dicey. I’m afraid I’m keeping you up.
Dicey. Sorry for keeping you up.
Minnie. I am too much awake now. I shan’t sleep till daylight. Oh, here are some cigars. Have some?
Minnie. I'm wide awake now. I won't be able to sleep until morning. Oh, look, there are some cigars. Want one?
Dicey. Some? If you are sure I am not trespassing upon your good nature, I’ll start one here and finish it on my way home. (Minnie strikes a light.) Oh, you are too good.
Risky. Some? If you’re sure I’m not taking advantage of your kindness, I’ll start one here and finish it on my way home. (Minnie lights a match.) Oh, you’re too kind.
Minnie. We must do something by way of return.
Minnie. We need to do something to give back.
Dicey. Just order the car as if it were your own. I wish it was. It couldn’t have a fairer owner.
Risky. Just order the car like it’s yours. I wish it were. It couldn’t have a better owner.
Minnie. I was going to pour you out a glass—but I’m a little afraid——
Minnie. I was about to pour you a glass—but I’m a bit worried——
Dicey. All the wines of Bacchus would be less intoxicating than my last waltz with you.
Risky. All the wines of Bacchus would be less intoxicating than my last dance with you.
Minnie. Then we must certainly swear off dancing!
Minnie. Then we definitely have to give up dancing!
Dicey. I’d as soon swear off living.
Sketchy. I’d rather give up living.
Minnie. Do you only live to dance?
Minnie. Is dancing all you live for?
Dicey. I think I only live to dance with you.
Risky. I feel like I only exist to dance with you.
Minnie. Mr. Dicey!
Minnie. Mr. Dicey!
Dicey. Minnie!
Risky. Minnie!
Minnie. I wonder what has become of Horace?
Minnie. I wonder what happened to Horace?
Dicey. (As she turns away on pretence of turning the lamp up, aside) Always Horace. Heigho! I must really be going, and thank you so much for all the pleasure—and pain you have given me. (Re-enter Aunt R.)
Risky. (As she turns away pretending to adjust the lamp, aside) Always Horace. Sigh! I really should be leaving now, and I appreciate all the joy—and heartache—you’ve brought me. (Re-enter Auntie R.)
Aunt. He is not in his room. I hammered on his door till my arm ached, and then thinking he was keeping up his joke, I lit a match and marched in. His bed wasn’t crumpled, even. Must you go?
Auntie. He isn't in his room. I knocked on his door until my arm hurt, and then thinking he was just playing a joke, I lit a match and went inside. His bed wasn't even rumpled. Do you have to go?
Dicey. I must, indeed; the richer by a cigar, however—(Shakes hands with Aunt and turns to Minnie)—the poorer by a heart! Good night.
Risky. I really must; at least I got a cigar in return—(Shakes hands with Aunt and turns to Minnie)—but I lost a heart! Good night.
Aunt. I’ll see you out myself. (Exit with Dicey R.)
Auntie. I’ll show you out myself. (Exit with Risky R.)
Minnie. I like him, but I don’t love him. How strange it is. He would do anything for me, while—well—I don’t suppose he—(Meaning Horace)—would, unless a mountain fell at his feet to start him into action. (Enter Aunt.)
Minnie. I like him, but I don’t love him. It’s so odd. He would do anything for me, but—I don't think he—(meaning Horace)—would, unless a mountain suddenly appeared at his feet to get him moving. (Enter Auntie.)
Aunt. A very nice young man, but hardly correct of him to come in at such an hour.
Auntie. A really nice young man, but it’s not appropriate for him to come over at this hour.
Minnie. Oh, Auntie, we made him. But where can Horace be, then? His coat has gone. (Pointing to chair below fireplace where it had been. Aunt notices closet open and empty.)
Minnie. Oh, Auntie, we created him. But where could Horace be, then? His coat is gone. (Pointing to the chair below the fireplace where it was. Auntie notices the closet is open and empty.)
Aunt. Oh! There have been burglars here! Coats all taken. He has pursued them.
Auntie. Oh! There have been burglars here! All the coats are gone. He has gone after them.
Minnie. He couldn’t wear all his coats at once.
Minnie. He couldn't wear all his coats at the same time.
(Sounds of voices at front door heard, growing louder and louder.)
(Voices at the front door can be heard, getting louder and louder.)
Aunt. They are returning for more plunder.
Auntie. They're coming back for more loot.
(Enter R. a crowd of poor people, preceded by a burly working man, half dressed, carrying a child. He advances well to C., the ladies retreating in alarm before him, slightly screaming. He stops short.)
(Enter R. a crowd of poor people, led by a strong working man, half-dressed, carrying a child. He moves confidently to C., while the ladies step back in fear, slightly screaming. He comes to a sudden stop.)
Working Man. Gent told us to come in, ladies. We’re all burnt out by the fire.
Working Person. The guy told us to come in, ladies. We're all exhausted from the fire.
Minnie. He has been to the fire!
Minnie. He went through the fire!
Aunt. Gather round the fire. Bring the children to the front. This is terrible! Poor little ones!
Auntie. Come gather around the fire. Bring the kids to the front. This is awful! Those poor little ones!
(The crowd consists of the following: First the man described, whose face is partly blackened by smoke, his child wrapped in a bit of blanket;[69] then a woman wearing Horace’s fur coat over her night dress, and carrying a baby. An old couple, woman wearing a gray overcoat of Horace’s; a girl wearing Horace’s mackintosh over nightclothes; she leads a boy in knee pants, no stockings, and one shoe on; a little girl carrying a baby. She tries to get to fire, but is blocked off by others, so dives under the table with her charge. Others, men and women, may be added, one wearing another of Horace’s overcoats. Then comes in Horace and the Tramp, carrying an unconscious youth whom they place on the sofa C. Bella also comes in, looking rather bewildered.)
(The crowd includes the following: First, there's the man described, his face partly covered in smoke blackening, with his child wrapped in a small blanket;[69] next is a woman wearing Horace's fur coat over her nightgown, holding a baby. An elderly couple follows, the woman in a gray overcoat of Horace's; a girl is in Horace's raincoat over her nightwear, leading a boy in knee-length pants, no socks, and one shoe; and a little girl carrying a baby. She tries to reach the fire but is blocked by others, so she dives under the table with her baby. Others, both men and women, join in, with one wearing another of Horace's overcoats. Then Horace and the Hobo come in, carrying an unconscious young man whom they place on the sofa C. Bella also enters, looking quite confused.)
Horace. Ah, that’s right, Bella, stir up the fire. Then call all the servants and start fires in all the bedrooms. We must find places for these unfortunate people. Has the doctor come yet? I am awfully afraid this lad is beyond his aid.
Horace. Ah, that's right, Bella, stoke the fire. Then gather all the staff and light fires in every bedroom. We need to make space for these unfortunate folks. Has the doctor arrived yet? I'm really worried this young man is beyond help.
Aunt. What is the matter with him, Horace?
Aunt. What's wrong with him, Horace?
Horace. Half an arm burnt away.
Horace. Half an arm burned off.
Minnie. These tiny tots! Would a little wine help them or you?
Minnie. These little ones! Would a bit of wine help them or you?
First Working Woman. You set us hoping, Miss, so you do. We ought to be thankful for our lives and our babies. Some didn’t get out. I don’t know how many.
First Female Employee. You give us hope, Miss, that you do. We should be grateful for our lives and our children. Some didn’t make it. I’m not sure how many.
Minnie. (Giving wine) Try and not worry. We’ll do what we can.
Minnie. (Pouring wine) Try not to worry. We’ll do what we can.
Horace. Yes, cheer up, folk! We’ll see you on your feet again.
Horace. Yes, don’t worry, everyone! We’ll have you back on your feet soon.
First Working Man. Thank you, Mister. That’s a kind word, no mistake.
First Working Guy. Thanks, man. That’s a nice thing to say, no doubt about it.
Horace. No doctor yet? I’ll go myself. Where is our doctor? (He lifts his fur cap off a child’s head and gets his scarf from another.)
Horace. No doctor yet? I’ll go find him myself. Where is our doctor? (He takes his fur cap off a child’s head and grabs his scarf from another.)
(Horace goes out and brings Dr. Chapman in R.)
(Horace goes out and brings Dr. Chapman in R.)
Horace. This is the worst case, Doctor.
Horace. This is the worst situation, Doctor.
(Dr. Chapman goes to lad on sofa. Enter Bella R.)
(Dr. Chapman lies down on the sofa. Enter Bella R.)
Bella. Some of the rooms are ready, sir.
Bella. A few of the rooms are ready, sir.
Horace. Will you dispose them, Auntie? (Apart to her) I ought to apologize to you for bringing in all this crowd without asking you, but you see what a deplorable——
Horace. Can you manage them, Auntie? (Apart to her) I should apologize for bringing in this crowd without asking, but you see what a terrible——
Aunt. (Patting his shoulder) Nephew, I am proud of you!
Auntie. (Patting his shoulder) Nephew, I’m so proud of you!
Horace. Funny! I thought she’d kick.
Horace. Funny! I thought she'd React.
Aunt. Let this old couple come first, and the children, and you. (Aunt Martha shepherds about half the crowd off R. and exits.)
Auntie. Let this elderly couple go first, along with the kids, and then you. (Aunt Martha guides about half the crowd off R. and leaves.)
Tramp. (To Horace) Boy is in a bad way, Guv’ner, but Doctor thinks he can pull him through.
Hobo. (To Horace) The kid is in rough shape, boss, but the doctor believes he can help him get through this.
Minnie. You brought him in. I thought he was your son.
Minnie. You brought him in. I thought he was your kid.
Tramp. No, Miss, I ain’t got no son, only a daughter.
Hobo. No, Miss, I don’t have a son, just a daughter.
Minnie. Has he no friends?
Minnie. Does he have no friends?
Tramp. His mother was burnt up, Miss, to-night. (Minnie nearly faints, and Horace catches her. She gently removes herself from his arms.) Excuse me, Miss, I was too blunt with it.
Homeless person. His mother was burned to death tonight, Miss. (Minnie nearly faints, and Horace catches her. She gently pulls away from his arms.) I’m sorry, Miss, I shouldn't have been so direct.
Horace. There, Minnie, don’t give way. They will need your help.
Horace. There, Minnie, don’t break down. They will need your support.
Bella. (Enter R.) The other rooms are ready, sir.
Bella. (Enter R.) The other rooms are ready, sir.
Minnie. Can you walk now better? Don’t cry, we will get you some clothes in the morning.
Minnie. Are you able to walk better now? Don’t cry, we’ll get you some clothes in the morning.
Second Working Woman. God bless your kind heart, Miss, and you, sir. We’d have died if you hadn’t come.
Second Career Woman. Thank you so much for your kindness, Miss, and you too, sir. We would have perished if you hadn’t arrived.
(Minnie shows them off with Bella R., and exits with crowd.)
(Minnie shows them off with Bella R., and leaves with the crowd.)
Horace. What is to be done, Doctor?
Horace. What do we do, Doc?
Dr. Chapman. Well, if you wish to turn your house into a hospital, all right. To save his life, he must be put to bed at once, and kept there.
Dr. Chapman. Well, if you want to turn your house into a hospital, that's fine. To save his life, he needs to be put to bed right away and stay there.
(Enter Aunt Martha R. Sees lad on sofa.)
(Enter Aunt Martha R. Sees guy on sofa.)
Aunt. Oh, how could I? I have forgotten the principal sufferer, and there is not another room left.
Auntie. Oh, how could I? I forgot the main person who is suffering, and there isn’t another room available.
Horace. Have you used mine?
Horace. Did you use mine?
Aunt. Horace!
Aunt. Horace!
Horace. Let him have that. May it save him is all I say! Now how to move him.
Horace. Let him keep that. I just hope it helps him! Now, how do I get through to him?
Dr. Chapman. Carry him as he is, sofa and all. That will save a good deal of strain.
Dr. Chapman. Take him as he is, sofa and everything. That will save a lot of effort.
(Dr. Chapman, Horace and Tramp carry out boy on sofa R. Minnie enters as they exeunt.)
(Dr. Chapman, Horace, and Hobo carry the boy on the sofa R. Minnie enters as they exit.)
Minnie. Where can they be going to put that poor boy?
Minnie. Where could they possibly take that poor boy?
Aunt. Horace insists upon giving up his bed and room to him.
Aunt. Horace insists on giving up his bed and room to him.
Minnie. (Astounded) No!
Minnie. (Shocked) No!
Aunt. (Sharing her wonderment) Yes. (They look at each other for a moment in silence.)
Auntie. (Expressing her amazement) Yes. (They share a silent moment, looking at each other.)
Minnie. Well, I can believe it after what he has been doing at the fire.
Minnie. Well, I can believe it after what he’s been doing at the fire.
Minnie. It was you who said he was selfish. I was willing to give up the dance.
Minnie. You were the one who called him selfish. I was ready to skip the dance.
Aunt. I don’t dance. You have misjudged him. He is the soul of generosity. Do you know, he actually began excusing himself to me for bringing the poor people in out of the cold.
Aunt. I don’t dance. You’ve misunderstood him. He has a kind heart. Did you know he even started apologizing to me for bringing the homeless in out of the cold?
Minnie. Fancy those babies sleeping through it all! Weren’t they sweet? (Enter Tramp and Horace R.)
Minnie. Can you believe those babies slept through everything? They were adorable! (Enter Homeless person and Horace R.)
Aunt. And you, my poor fellow! I must find a corner for you somewhere. You have no home now, I suppose.
Auntie. And you, my poor friend! I need to find a place for you to stay. You don’t have a home anymore, do you?
Tramp. No, ma’m. I’ve done without a home for several moons. So I’m used to it, but it’s tough on those who get it sudden.
Homeless person. No, ma'am. I've been without a home for a while now. So, I'm used to it, but it's hard on those who experience it all at once.
Horace. I’m interested in this man. I showed him scant courtesy this evening, and felt sorry for him afterwards. We met again at the fire. He is an inventor, moreover.
Horace. I'm curious about this guy. I didn't treat him very well tonight, and I felt bad about it later. We ran into each other again by the fire. He's also an inventor, by the way.
Tramp. Ah, Guv’ner, if they had only had my fire-escape there would have been no killed.
Homeless person. Ah, Boss, if they had only had my fire escape, no one would have died.
Horace. Have you an idea for a fire-escape? By Jove, we’ll patent it! Meanwhile——
Horace. Do you have an idea for a fire escape? I swear we’ll patent it! In the meantime——
Tramp. Will you give me the job of cleaning the snow from your front walks?
Homeless person. Can I have the job of clearing the snow from your front walks?
Horace. Yes, and I will pay you in advance.
Horace. Yes, and I'll pay you ahead of time.
Tramp. Needn’t do that, Guv.
Tramp. No need for that, mate.
Aunt. You will find a shovel in the coal shed, if not——
Auntie. You’ll find a shovel in the coal shed, if not——
Horace. A bit of board will do.
Horace. A piece of wood will work.
Tramp. Shovel’s best, Guv’ner——
Hobo. Shovel’s the best, Gov—
Horace. I mean, of course—oh, yes, a shovel, by all means. The servants are up, and if you don’t object to eating before retiring, for there’s no hurry about the snow——
Horace. I mean, of course—oh, yes, a shovel, definitely. The staff is awake, and if you don't mind eating before going to bed, since there's no rush about the snow—
Tramp. I doesn’t object.
Tramp. I don't object.
Aunt. Will you show him the way to the kitchen, Minnie?
Auntie. Can you show him how to get to the kitchen, Minnie?
Tramp. Minnie? Is that her name?
Tramp. Minnie? Is that her name?
Aunt. Why, yes.
Aunt. Sure thing.
Tramp. I’m looking for a daughter of that name.
Hobo. I’m searching for a daughter with that name.
Horace. Who were Minnie’s parents, Aunt? Do you know? Can it be possible that——
Horace. Who were Minnie’s parents, Aunt? Do you know? Could it be possible that——
Tramp. That this young lady is mine? Lor’, no, Guv’ner! My daughter would only be about twelve years old.
Homeless person. That this young lady is mine? No way, sir! My daughter is only about twelve years old.
Horace. Why, you said she was the image of your——
Horace. Why, you said she looked just like your——
Tramp. Me? Never, Guv’ner. Never saw this lady before.
Homeless person. Me? No way, Boss. I've never seen this lady before.
Horace. Not you, no, I remember. It was someone else.
Horace. Not you, no, I remember. It was someone different.
Aunt. Your mother knew both Minnie’s parents. Her father was a clergyman.
Auntie. Your mom knew both of Minnie’s parents. Her dad was a minister.
Tramp. And I ain’t exactly.
Hobo. And I'm not exactly.
Minnie. I am sure you have a brave as well as a kind heart, for I have heard from others what risks you took in carrying them out.
Minnie. I'm sure you have both a brave and kind heart, because I've heard from others about the risks you took to help them.
Horace. Well, take a substantial supper—or breakfast, whichever it may be called—and presently we’ll clear that snow off together. (Exit Tramp with Minnie R.)
Horace. Alright, have a decent dinner—or breakfast, whatever you prefer—and soon we’ll clear that snow off together. (Exit Hobo with Minnie R.)
Aunt. What do you mean by clearing the snow together?
Auntie. What do you mean by shoveling the snow together?
Horace. I fancy the exercise will stimulate thought.
Horace. I think the exercise will get the mind working.
Aunt. My dear Horace, I am truly ashamed of the abuse I heaped upon you this evening. Do forgive me.
Auntie. My dear Horace, I’m really sorry for the way I treated you this evening. Please forgive me.
Horace. Why, Aunt, I’m sure I had well earned it.
Horace. Why, Aunt, I definitely earned it.
Horace. Not if you had seen them as I did. Oh, Auntie, why have we so little Otherdom?
Horace. Not if you had seen them the way I did. Oh, Auntie, why do we have so little Otherdom?
Aunt. Other—what, dear?
Aunt. What is it, dear?
Horace. That is, philanthropy, benevolence, altruism.
Horace. That is, charity, kindness, selflessness.
Aunt. I am sure you have done your full share to-night.
Auntie. I'm sure you've done your part tonight.
Horace. It can only be because we never realize how the poor live. In the wise days of old, when men were nearer nature, fast days were instituted, that the Fat might remember the Lean. Now our Fasts are feasts. I wonder what a bonafide all-round forty-eight hour starve, once a year even, would do for our rich friends. Make that a fad, Auntie. You’d revolutionize the world.
Horace. It’s only because we don’t understand how the poor live. Back in the wise days of old, when people were closer to nature, fasting days were set up so that the wealthy would remember the less fortunate. Now our fasts are just feasts. I wonder what a genuine two-day fast, even just once a year, would do for our rich friends. Make that a trend, Auntie. You’d change the world.
Aunt. You are quite right, Horace. We do fall far short of our whole duty. But where are you going to sleep? Will you go to a hotel?
Auntie. You're absolutely right, Horace. We really don't do our full duty. But where are you planning to stay? Are you going to a hotel?
Horace. Perhaps, or in the chair. Don’t bother about me.
Horace. Maybe, or sitting in the chair. Don't worry about me.
Aunt. Kiss me, Horace. Heaven bless you. You have made me very happy to-night. (Exit.)
Auntie. Kiss me, Horace. God bless you. You’ve made me really happy tonight. (Exit.)
Horace. The sofa gone. I see nothing for it but to camp on the hearthrug or in the chair. Don’t want that any more. (Turns out lamp.) I wish I could have made my peace with Minnie. But she hasn’t forgotten so readily. She shrank away from me when I caught her. I must just hope for the best. (Settles down in chair.)
Horace. The sofa is gone. I guess I have no choice but to sit on the rug or in the chair. I don't want that anymore. (Turns out lamp.) I wish I could have made amends with Minnie. But she hasn’t moved on as easily. She pulled away from me when I caught her. I can only hope for the best. (Settles down in chair.)
(Enter Minnie R.)
(Enter Minnie R.)
Horace. I might be dreaming again. Ah, I can read it now! She is my guide—my Marsy—my conscience! Minnie!!
Horace. I might be dreaming again. Ah, I can see it clearly now! She is my guide—my Marsy—my conscience! Minnie!!
Minnie. (Startled) Horace?
Minnie. (Surprised) Horace?
Horace. Forgive me, Minnie! I was a brute to you.
Horace. I'm sorry, Minnie! I was terrible to you.
Minnie. I wronged you, Horace. I know I did.
Minnie. I hurt you, Horace. I realize I did.
Horace. Never! Never! It was your spirit that changed me, and my purpose in life. Help me to continue.
Horace. Never! Never! It was your spirit that transformed me and my life's purpose. Help me keep going.
Minnie. What can I do?
Minnie. What should I do?
Horace. (Picks up ring from table) Let me put it back on its finger. (Sounds of scraping of shovel outside.)
Horace. (Picks up ring from table) Let me put it back on her finger. (Sounds of a shovel scraping outside.)
Minnie. (Goes to window and looks out) It is that poor inventor man shoveling the snow.
Minnie. (Goes to the window and looks out) It's that poor inventor guy shoveling the snow.
Horace. There is good in him, and we will bring it out.
Horace. There's something good in him, and we will bring it out.
Minnie. And shall we help him to find his Minnie, now that you have found yours?
Minnie. So, should we help him find his Minnie, now that you've found yours?
Horace. That we will, dearest. (Puts on ring.) There it is again, my love, my Minnie!
Horace. We definitely will, my dear. (Puts on ring.) There it is again, my love, my Minnie!
(Tramp comes into view through window shoveling the snow cheerily.)
(Homeless person appears in the window, happily shoveling the snow.)
CURTAIN
CURTAIN
FRENCH’S
Standard Library Version
Includes Plays by
Includes Plays by
- Clyde Fitch
- Booth Tarkington
- William Gillette
- J. Hartley Manners
- Augustus Thomas
- James Forbes
- George Broadhurst
- James Montgomery
- Edward E. Kidder
- Wm. C. de Mille
- Percy Mac Kaye
- Roi Cooper Megrue
- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
- Edward E. Rose
- Louis N. Parker
- Israel Zangwill
- R. C. Carton
- Henry Bernstein
- Alfred Sutro
- Harold Brighouse
- Richard Harding Davis
- Channing Pollock
- Sir Arthur W. Pinero
- Harry Durant
- Anthony Hope
- Winchell Smith
- Oscar Wilde
- Margaret Mayo
- Haddon Chambers
- A. E. W. Mason
- Jerome K. Jerome
- Charles Klein
- Cosmo Gordon Lennox
- Henry Arthur Jones
- H. V. Esmond
- A. E. Thomas
- Mark Swan
- Fred Ballard
- Grace L. Furniss
- Cyril Harcourt
- Marguerite Merrington
- Carlisle Moore
- Hermann Sudermann
- Ernest Denny
- Rida Johnson Young
- Laurence Housman
- Arthur Law
- Harry James Smith
- Rachel Crothers
- Edgar Selwyn
- Martha Morton
- Augustin McHugh
- H. A. Du Souchet
- Robert Housum
- W. W. Jacobs
- Charles Kenyon
- Madeleine Lucette Ryley
- C. M. S. McLellan
French’s International Copyrighted Edition contains plays, comedies and farces of international reputation; also recent professional successes by famous American and English Authors.
French's International Copyrighted Edition features plays, comedies, and farces that have international acclaim, along with recent professional hits by well-known American and English authors.
Send a four-cent stamp for our new catalogue describing thousands of plays.
Send a four-cent stamp for our new catalog featuring thousands of plays.
SAMUEL FRENCH
Oldest Play Publisher in the World
28-30 West 38th Street, NEW YORK CITY
SAMUEL FRENCH
The Oldest Play Publisher in the World
28-30 West 38th Street, NEW YORK CITY
Golden Days
A comedy of youth, in four acts, by Sidney Toler and Marion Short. 7 males, 10 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2½ hours.
A modern comedy about youth, in four acts, by Sidney Toler and Marion Short. 7 men, 10 women. Three indoor scenes. Modern costumes. Runs for 2½ hours.
“Golden Days” is a play with all the charm of youth. It enjoyed a run of sixteen weeks in Chicago with Patricia Collinge in the leading role, and was then brought to the Gaiety Theatre, New York, with Helen Hayes in the part of “Mary Anne.”
“Golden Days” is a play that captures all the charm of youth. It had a successful run of sixteen weeks in Chicago with Patricia Collinge in the lead role, and was then moved to the Gaiety Theatre in New York, featuring Helen Hayes as “Mary Anne.”
Price, 75 cents.
Price, $0.75.
Come Out of the Kitchen
A charming comedy in 3 acts, adapted by A. E. Thomas from the story of the same name by Alice Duer Miller. 6 males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 2½ hours.
A delightful comedy in 3 acts, adapted by A. E. Thomas from the story of the same name by Alice Duer Miller. 6 males, 5 females. Three indoor scenes. Modern costumes. Runs for 2½ hours.
“Come Out of the Kitchen,” with Ruth Chatterton in the leading role, made a notable success on its production by Henry Miller at the Cohan Theatre, New York. It was also a great success at the Strand Theatre, London. A most ingenious and entertaining comedy, and we strongly recommend it for amateur production.
“Come Out of the Kitchen,” featuring Ruth Chatterton in the lead role, was a significant success when it was produced by Henry Miller at the Cohan Theatre in New York. It also enjoyed great success at the Strand Theatre in London. It’s a clever and entertaining comedy, and we highly recommend it for amateur productions.
Price, 75 cents
Price, $0.75
His Majesty Bunker Bean
A farcical comedy in four acts. By Lee Wilson Dodd, from the novel by Harry Leon Wilson. 12 males, 6 females. Four interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 2½ hours. Those who have laughed immoderately at Harry Leon Wilson’s story will be greatly amused by the play, which tells the story of a cowed and credulous youth who became kingly when he was tricked into believing himself a reincarnation of Napoleon. “His Majesty Bunker Bean,” with Taylor Holmes in the title role, was brought to the Astor Theatre, New York, after a run of 25 weeks in Chicago. A delightful and wholesome farce comedy with no dull moments.
A silly comedy in four acts. By Lee Wilson Dodd, based on the novel by Harry Leon Wilson. 12 male characters, 6 female characters. Four indoor scenes. Costumes are modern. Runs for 2½ hours. Those who have laughed hard at Harry Leon Wilson’s story will find the play very entertaining, which tells the tale of a timid and gullible young man who becomes royal after being tricked into thinking he's a reincarnation of Napoleon. “His Majesty Bunker Bean,” featuring Taylor Holmes in the lead role, was shown at the Astor Theatre in New York after a 25-week run in Chicago. A fun and wholesome farce with no dull moments.
Price, 75 cents
$0.75
A Full House
A farcical comedy in three acts. By Fred Jackson. 7 males, 7 females. One interior scene. Modern costumes. Plays 2½ hours. This newest and funniest of all farces was written by Fred Jackson, the well-known short story writer, and is backed up by the prestige of an impressive New York success and the promise of unlimited fun presented in the most attractive form. A cleverer farce has not been seen for many a long day. “A Full House” is a house full of laughs.
A hilarious comedy in three acts. By Fred Jackson. 7 males, 7 females. One indoor setting. Modern outfits. Runs 2½ hours. This latest and funniest of all farces was written by Fred Jackson, the well-known short story writer, and is backed by the reputation of a notable New York success and the promise of endless entertainment presented in the most appealing way. A more clever farce hasn't been seen in a long time. “A Full House” is packed with laughter.
Price, 75 cents
Price, $0.75
The Charm School
A fascinating comedy in three acts by Alice Duer Miller and Robert Milton. 6 males, 10 females. (May be played by 5 males and 8 females). Any number of school girls may be used in the ensembles. Scenes, two interiors. Costumes, modern. Plays 2½ hours.
A captivating comedy in three acts by Alice Duer Miller and Robert Milton. 6 men, 10 women. (Can be performed by 5 men and 8 women). Any number of school girls can be included in the ensembles. Settings, two interiors. Costumes, modern. Runs 2½ hours.
The story of “The Charm School” is familiar to Mrs. Miller’s readers. It relates the adventures of a handsome young automobile salesman scarcely out of his ’teens who, upon inheriting a girl’s boarding school from a maiden aunt, insists on running it himself, according to his own ideas, chief of which is, by the way, that the dominant feature in the education of the young girl of to-day should be CHARM.
The story of “The Charm School” is well-known to Mrs. Miller’s readers. It follows the adventures of a good-looking young car salesman who is barely out of his teens. When he inherits a girls' boarding school from his maiden aunt, he is determined to run it himself based on his own ideas, with the main one being that the most important aspect of educating young girls today should be CHARM.
The situations that arise are teeming with humor—clean, wholesome humor. In the end the young man gives up the school and promises to wait until the most precocious of his pupils reaches a marriageable age.
The situations that come up are full of humor—light, wholesome humor. In the end, the young man leaves the school and promises to wait until the most advanced of his students is old enough to marry.
“The Charm School” has the freshness of youth, the inspiration of an extravagant but novel idea, the charm of originality, and the promise of wholesome, sanely amusing, pleasant entertainment. We strongly recommend it for high school production.
“The Charm School” has the energy of youth, the inspiration of a grand but original idea, the appeal of uniqueness, and the potential for healthy, sensible, and enjoyable entertainment. We highly recommend it for high school productions.
“The Charm School” was first produced at the Bijou Theatre, New York, and then toured the country. Two companies are now playing it in England.
“The Charm School” was first staged at the Bijou Theatre in New York and then toured across the country. Two companies are currently performing it in England.
Price, 75 cents.
Price: $0.75.
Daddy Long-Legs
A charming comedy in four acts, by Jean Webster. The full cast calls for 6 males, 7 females and 6 orphans, but the play, by the easy doubling of some of the characters may be played by 4 males, 4 females and three orphans. The orphans appear only in the first act and may be played by small girls of any age. Four easy interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2½ hours.
A delightful comedy in four acts, by Jean Webster. The full cast requires 6 men, 7 women, and 6 orphans, but the play can also be performed by 4 men, 4 women, and 3 orphans due to the flexible doubling of some characters. The orphans only appear in the first act and can be played by girls of any age. There are four simple interior scenes. Costumes are modern. Runs for 2½ hours.
The New York Times reviewer, on the morning following the Broadway production, wrote the following comment:
The New York Times reviewer, the morning after the Broadway show, wrote this:
“If you will take your pencil and write down, one below the other, the words delightful, charming, sweet, beautiful and entertaining, and then draw a line and add them up, the answer will be ‘Daddy Long-Legs.’ To that result you might even add brilliant, pathetic and humorous, but the answer even then would be just what it was before—the play which Miss Jean Webster has made from her book, ‘Daddy Long-Legs,’ and which was presented at the Gaiety last night. To attempt to describe the simplicity and beauty of ‘Daddy Long-Legs’ would be like attempting to describe the first breath of Spring after an exceedingly tiresome and hard Winter.”
“If you take your pencil and write down, one below the other, the words delightful, charming, sweet, beautiful, and entertaining, and then draw a line and add them up, the result will be ‘Daddy Long-Legs.’ You might even include brilliant, pathetic, and humorous, but even then, the answer would still be the same—the play that Miss Jean Webster adapted from her book, ‘Daddy Long-Legs,’ which was performed at the Gaiety last night. Trying to describe the simplicity and beauty of ‘Daddy Long-Legs’ is like trying to capture the first breath of Spring after a long and exhausting Winter.”
“Daddy Long-Legs” enjoyed a two-years’ run in New York and was then toured for over three years, and is now published in play form for the first time.
“Daddy Long-Legs” had a two-year run in New York and then toured for over three years, and is now being published in play form for the first time.
Price, 75 cents.
Price, $0.75.
BILLETED.
A comedy in 3 acts, by F. Tennison Jesse and H. Harwood. 4 males, 5 females. One easy interior scene. A charming comedy, constructed with uncommon skill, and abounds with clever lines. Margaret Anglin’s big success. Amateurs will find this comedy easy to produce and popular with all audiences.
A comedy in 3 acts, by F. Tennison Jesse and H. Harwood. 4 males, 5 females. One simple interior scene. A delightful comedy, crafted with exceptional skill, and filled with witty lines. Margaret Anglin’s major success. Amateurs will find this comedy easy to produce and it will be well-received by all audiences.
Price, 60 Cents.
60 Cent Price.
NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH.
A comedy in 3 acts. By James Montgomery. 5 males, 6 females. Costumes, modern. Two interior scenes. Plays 2 and ½ hours.
A comedy in 3 acts. By James Montgomery. 5 men, 6 women. Costumes, modern. Two indoor scenes. Runs 2 and ½ hours.
Is it possible to tell the absolute truth—even for twenty-four hours? It is—at least Bob Bennett, the hero of “Nothing But the Truth,” accomplished the feat. The bet he made with his business partners, and the trouble he got into—with his partners, his friends, and his fiancée—this is the subject of William Collier’s tremendous comedy hit. “Nothing But the Truth” can be whole-heartedly recommended as one of the most sprightly, amusing and popular comedies that this country can boast.
Is it possible to tell the absolute truth—even for just twenty-four hours? It is—at least Bob Bennett, the main character in “Nothing But the Truth,” managed to do it. The bet he made with his business partners and the trouble he faced—with his partners, his friends, and his fiancée—are the focus of William Collier’s fantastic comedy hit. “Nothing But the Truth” comes highly recommended as one of the most lively, entertaining, and popular comedies that this country has to offer.
Price, 60 Cents.
Price: 60 cents.
IN WALKED JIMMY.
A comedy in 4 acts, by Minnie Z. Jaffa. 10 males, 2 females (although any number of males and females may be used as clerks, etc.). Two interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 2 and ½ hours. The thing into which Jimmy walked was a broken-down shoe factory, when the clerks had all been fired, and when the proprietor was in serious contemplation of suicide.
A comedy in 4 acts, by Minnie Z. Jaffa. 10 males, 2 females (although any number of males and females can be used as clerks, etc.). Two indoor scenes. Modern costumes. Runs for 2 and ½ hours. The place Jimmy entered was a rundown shoe factory, where all the clerks had been let go, and the owner was seriously considering suicide.
Jimmy, nothing else but plain Jimmy, would have been a mysterious figure had it not been for his matter-of-fact manner, his smile and his everlasting humanness. He put the shoe business on its feet, won the heart of the girl clerk, saved her erring brother from jail, escaped that place as a permanent boarding house himself, and foiled the villain.
Jimmy, just plain Jimmy, would have seemed like a mysterious character if it weren't for his straightforward attitude, his smile, and his constant humanity. He turned the shoe business around, won the affection of the girl who worked there, rescued her wayward brother from jail, avoided becoming a permanent resident there himself, and thwarted the villain.
Clean, wholesome comedy with just a touch of human nature, just a dash of excitement and more than a little bit of true philosophy make “In Walked Jimmy” one of the most delightful of plays. Jimmy is full of the religion of life, the religion of happiness and the religion of helpfulness, and he so permeates the atmosphere with his “religion” that everyone is happy. The spirit of optimism, good cheer, and hearty laughter dominates the play. There is not a dull moment in any of the four acts. We strongly recommend it.
Clean, wholesome comedy with just a hint of human nature, a bit of excitement, and plenty of genuine philosophy make “In Walked Jimmy” one of the most enjoyable plays. Jimmy embodies the joy of life, the pursuit of happiness, and a willingness to help others, filling the space around him with such positive energy that everyone feels happy. The vibe of optimism, good cheer, and hearty laughter takes over the play. There’s never a dull moment in any of the four acts. We highly recommend it.
Price, 60 Cents.
Price: 60 cents.
MARTHA BY-THE-DAY.
An optimistic comedy in three acts, by Julie M. Lippmann, author of the “Martha” stories. 5 males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2 and ½ hours.
An upbeat comedy in three acts, by Julie M. Lippmann, creator of the “Martha” stories. 5 men, 5 women. Three interior scenes. Modern costumes. Runs for 2 and ½ hours.
It is altogether a gentle thing, this play. It is full of quaint humor, old-fashioned, homely sentiment, the kind that people who see the play will recall and chuckle over to-morrow and the next day.
It’s a really nice play. It’s full of quirky humor and cozy, old-fashioned feelings that people who watch it will remember and laugh about today and tomorrow.
Miss Lippmann has herself adapted her very successful book for stage service, and in doing this has selected from her novel the most telling incidents, infectious comedy and homely sentiment for the play, and the result is thoroughly delightful.
Miss Lippmann has personally adapted her highly successful book for the stage, and in doing so, she has chosen the most impactful incidents, hilarious comedy, and relatable sentiment for the play. The result is thoroughly delightful.
Price, 60 Cents.
$0.60
(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced)
(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced)
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City
New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed
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SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City
New and Detailed Descriptive Catalog Sent
Free Upon Request
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