Don’t be afraid of me, little sister. There’s nothing can shock me or
turn me from you. I am not like that. I wanted you to come for this
visit because I had a feeling that you needed more from life than
you were getting. No one of these things I have seen would excite my
suspicion. It’s the combination. You don’t eat breakfast [_Enumerating
on her fingers_]; you make false moves; you substitute your own name
for the name of another _whose love is misdirected_. You’re nervous;
you _look_ queer; in your eyes there’s a frightened look that is most
unlike you. And this dream. A _hen_. Come with me this afternoon to Dr.
Russell! Your whole life may be at stake, Mabel.
MABEL
[_Gasping._] Henrietta, I--you--you always were the smartest in the
family, and all that, but--this is terrible! I don’t think we _ought_
to think such things. [_Brightening._] Why, I’ll tell you why I dreamed
I was a hen. It was because last night, telling about that time in
Chicago, you said I was as mad as a wet hen.
HENRIETTA
[_Superior._] Did you dream you were a _wet_ hen?
MABEL
[_Forced to admit it._] No.
HENRIETTA
No. You dreamed you were a _dry_ hen. And why, being a hen, were you
urged to step?
MABEL
Maybe it’s because when I am getting on a street car it always
irritates me to have them call “Step lively.”
HENRIETTA
No, Mabel, that is only a child’s view of it--if you will forgive me.
You see merely the elements used in the dream. You do not see into the
dream; you do not see its meaning. This dream of the hen--
STEVE
Hen--hen--wet hen--dry hen--mad hen! [_Jumps up in a rage._] Let me out
of this!
HENRIETTA
[_Hastily picking up dishes, speaks soothingly._] Just a minute, dear,
and we’ll have things so you can work in quiet. Mabel and I are going
to sit in my room.
[_She goes out left, carrying dishes._
STEVE
[_Seizing hat and coat from an alcove near the outside door._] I’m
going to be psychoanalyzed. I’m going now! I’m going straight to that
infallible doctor of hers--that priest of this new religion. If he’s
got honesty enough to tell Henrietta there’s nothing the matter with
my unconscious mind, perhaps I can be let alone about it, and then I
_will_ be all right. [_From the door in a low voice._] Don’t tell
Henrietta I’m going. It might take weeks, and I couldn’t stand all the
talk.
[_He hurries out._
HENRIETTA
[_Returning._] Where’s Steve? Gone? [_With a hopeless gesture._] You
see how impatient he is--how unlike himself! I tell you, Mabel, I’m
nearly distracted about Steve.
MABEL
I think he’s a little distracted, too.
HENRIETTA
Well, if he’s gone--you might as well stay here. I have a committee
meeting at the book-shop, and will have to leave you to yourself for an
hour or two. [_As she puts her hat on, taking it from the alcove where
STEVE found his, her eye, lighting up almost carnivorously, falls on
an enormous volume on the floor beside the work table. The book has
been half hidden by the wastebasket. She picks it up and carries it
around the table toward MABEL._] Here, dear, is one of the simplest
statements of psychoanalysis. You just read this and then we can talk
more intelligently. [_MABEL takes volume and staggers back under its
weight to chair rear center, HENRIETTA goes to outer door, stops and
asks abruptly._] How old is Lyman Eggleston?
MABEL
[_Promptly._] He isn’t forty yet. Why, what made you ask that,
Henrietta?
[_As she turns her head to look at HENRIETTA her hands move toward
the upper corners of the book balanced on her knees._
HENRIETTA
Oh, nothing. Au revoir.
[_She goes out. MABEL stares at the ceiling. The book slides to the
floor. She starts; looks at the book, then at the broken plate on
the table._]
The plate! The book! [_She lifts her eyes, leans forward elbow on knee,
chin on knuckles and plaintively queries_] Am I unhappy?
(CURTAIN)
* * * * *
SCENE II: _Two weeks later. The stage is as in Scene I, except that
the breakfast table has been removed. During the first few minutes the
dusk of a winter afternoon deepens. Out of the darkness spring rows
of double street-lights almost meeting in the distance. HENRIETTA is
at the psychoanalytical end of STEVE’S work-table, surrounded by open
books and periodicals, writing. STEVE enters briskly._
STEVE
What are you doing, my dear?
HENRIETTA
My paper for the Liberal Club.
STEVE
Your paper on--?
HENRIETTA
On a subject which does not have your sympathy.
STEVE
Oh, I’m not sure I’m wholly out of sympathy with psychoanalysis,
Henrietta. You worked it so hard. I couldn’t even take a bath without
it’s meaning something.
HENRIETTA
[_Loftily._] I talked it because I knew you needed it.
STEVE
You haven’t said much about it these last two weeks. Uh--your faith in
it hasn’t weakened any?
HENRIETTA
Weakened? It’s grown stronger with each new thing I’ve come to know.
And Mabel. She is with Dr. Russell now. Dr. Russell is wonderful! From
what Mabel tells me I believe his analysis is going to prove that I was
right. Today I discovered a remarkable confirmation of my theory in the
hen-dream.
STEVE
What is your theory?
HENRIETTA
Well, you know about Lyman Eggleston. I’ve wondered about him. I’ve
never seen him, but I know he’s less bourgeois than Mabel’s other
friends--more intellectual--and [_Significantly_] she doesn’t see much
of him because Bob doesn’t like him.
STEVE
But what’s the confirmation?
HENRIETTA
Today I noticed the first syllable of his name.
STEVE
Ly?
HENRIETTA
No--egg.
STEVE
Egg?
HENRIETTA
[_Patiently._] Mabel dreamed she was a _hen_. [_STEVE laughs._] You
wouldn’t laugh if you knew how important names are in interpreting
dreams. Freud is full of just such cases in which a whole hidden
complex is revealed by a single significant syllable--like this egg.
STEVE
Doesn’t the traditional relation of hen and egg suggest rather a
maternal feeling?
HENRIETTA
There is something maternal in Mabel’s love, of course, but that’s only
one element.
STEVE
Well, suppose Mabel hasn’t a suppressed desire to be this gentleman’s
mother, but his beloved. What’s to be done about it? What about Bob?
Don’t you think it’s going to be a little rough on him?
HENRIETTA
That can’t be helped. Bob, like everyone else, must face the facts
of life. If Dr. Russell should arrive independently at this same
interpretation I shall not hesitate to advise Mabel to leave her
present husband.
STEVE
Um--hum! [_The lights go up on Fifth Avenue. STEVE goes to the window
and looks out._] How long is it we’ve lived here, Henrietta?
HENRIETTA
Why, this is the third year, Steve.
STEVE
I--we--one would miss this view if one went away, wouldn’t one?
HENRIETTA
How strangely you speak! Oh, Stephen, I _wish_ you’d go to Dr. Russell.
Don’t think my fears have abated because I’ve been able to restrain
myself. I had to on account of Mabel. But now, dear--won’t you go?
STEVE
I--[_He breaks off, turns on the light, then comes and sits beside
HENRIETTA._] How long have we been married, Henrietta?
HENRIETTA
Stephen, I don’t understand you! You _must_ go to Dr. Russell.
STEVE
I have gone.
HENRIETTA
You--what?
STEVE
[_Jauntily._] Yes, Henrietta, I’ve been psyched.
HENRIETTA
You went to Dr. Russell?
STEVE
The same.
HENRIETTA
And what did he say?
STEVE
He said--I--I was a little surprised by what he said, Henrietta.
HENRIETTA
[_Breathlessly._] Of course--one can so seldom anticipate. But tell
me--your dream, Stephen? It means--?
STEVE
It means--I was considerably surprised by what it means.
HENRIETTA
_Don’t_ be so exasperating!
STEVE
It means--you really want to know, Henrietta?
HENRIETTA
Stephen, you’ll drive me mad!
STEVE
He said--of course he may be wrong in what he said.
HENRIETTA
He _isn’t_ wrong. _Tell_ me!
STEVE
He said my dream of the walls receding and leaving me alone in a forest
indicates a suppressed desire--
HENRIETTA
Yes--yes!
STEVE
To be freed from--
HENRIETTA
Yes--freed from--?
STEVE
Marriage.
HENRIETTA
[_Crumples. Stares._] Marriage!
STEVE
He--he may be mistaken, you know.
HENRIETTA
_May_ be mistaken?
STEVE
I--well, of course, I hadn’t taken any stock in it myself. It was only
your great confidence--
HENRIETTA
Stephen, are you telling me that Dr. Russell--Dr. A. E. Russell--told
you this? [_STEVE nods._] Told you you have a suppressed desire to
separate from _me_?
STEVE
That’s what he said.
HENRIETTA
Did he know who you were?
STEVE
Yes.
HENRIETTA
That you were married to me?
STEVE
Yes, he knew that.
HENRIETTA
And he told you to leave me?
STEVE
It seems he must be wrong, Henrietta.
HENRIETTA
[_Rising._] And I’ve sent him more patients--! [_Catches herself and
resumes coldly._] What reason did he give for this analysis?
STEVE
He says the confining walls are a symbol of my feeling about marriage
and that their fading away is a wish-fulfillment.
HENRIETTA
[_Gulping._] Well, is it? Do you want our marriage to end?
STEVE
It was a great surprise to me that I did. You see I hadn’t known what
was in my unconscious mind.
HENRIETTA
[_Flaming._] What did you tell Dr. Russell about me to make him think
you weren’t happy?
STEVE
I never told him a thing, Henrietta. He got it all from his confounded
clever inferences. I--I tried to refute them, but he said that was only
part of my self-protective lying.
HENRIETTA
And that’s why you were so--happy--when you came in just now!
STEVE
Why, Henrietta, how can you say such a thing? I was _sad_. Didn’t I
speak sadly of--of the view? Didn’t I ask how long we had been married?
HENRIETTA
[_Rising._] Stephen Brewster, have you no sense of the seriousness of
this? Dr. Russell doesn’t know what our marriage has been. You do. You
should have laughed him down! Confined--in life with me? Did you tell
him that I _believe_ in freedom?
STEVE
I very emphatically told him that his results were a great surprise to
me.
HENRIETTA
But you accepted them.
STEVE
Oh, not at all. I merely couldn’t refute his arguments. I’m not a
psychologist. I came home to talk it over with you. You being a
disciple of psychoanalysis--
HENRIETTA
If you are going, I wish you would go tonight!
STEVE
Oh, my dear! I--surely I couldn’t do that! Think of my feelings. And my
laundry hasn’t come home.
HENRIETTA
I ask you to go tonight. Some women would falter at this, Steve,
but I am not such a woman. I leave you free. I do not repudiate
psychoanalysis; I say again that it has done great things. It has also
made mistakes, of course. But since you accept this analysis--[_She
sits down and pretends to begin work._] I have to finish this paper. I
wish you would leave me.
STEVE
[_Scratches his head, goes to the inner door._] I’m sorry, Henrietta,
about my unconscious mind.
[_Alone, HENRIETTA’S face betrays her outraged state of
mind--disconcerted, resentful, trying to pull herself together. She
attains an air of bravely bearing an outrageous thing.--The outer
door opens and MABEL enters in great excitement._
MABEL
[_Breathless._] Henrietta, I’m so glad you’re here. And alone? [_Looks
toward the inner door._] Are you alone, Henrietta?
HENRIETTA
[_With reproving dignity._] Very much so.
MABEL
[_Rushing to her._] Henrietta, he’s found it!
HENRIETTA
[_Aloof._] Who has found what?
MABEL
Who has found what? Dr. Russell has found my suppressed desire!
HENRIETTA
That is interesting.
MABEL
He finished with me today--he got hold of my complex--in the most
amazing way! But, oh, Henrietta--it is so terrible!
HENRIETTA
Do calm yourself, Mabel. Surely there’s no occasion for all this
agitation.
MABEL
But there is! And when you think of the lives that are affected--the
readjustments that must be made in order to bring the suppressed hell
out of me and save me from the insane asylum--!
HENRIETTA
The insane asylum!
MABEL
You said that’s where these complexes brought people!
HENRIETTA
What did the doctor tell you, Mabel?
MABEL
Oh, I don’t know how I can tell you--it is so awful--so unbelievable.
HENRIETTA
I rather have my hand in at hearing the unbelievable.
MABEL
Henrietta, who would ever have thought it? How can it be true? But the
doctor is perfectly certain that I have a suppressed desire for--
[_Looks at HENRIETTA, is unable to continue._
HENRIETTA
Oh, go on, Mabel. I’m not unprepared for what you have to say.
MABEL
Not unprepared? You mean you have suspected it?
HENRIETTA
From the first. It’s been my theory all along.
MABEL
But, Henrietta, I didn’t know myself that I had this secret desire for
Stephen.
HENRIETTA
[_Jumps up._] Stephen!
MABEL
My brother-in-law! My own sister’s husband!
HENRIETTA
_You_ have a suppressed desire for _Stephen_!
MABEL
Oh, Henrietta, aren’t these unconscious selves terrible? They seem so
unlike _us_!
HENRIETTA
What insane thing are you driving at?
MABEL
[_Blubbering._] Henrietta, don’t you use that word to me. I don’t
_want_ to go to the insane asylum.
HENRIETTA
What did Dr. Russell say?
MABEL
Well, you see--oh, it’s the strangest thing! But you know the voice in
my dream that called “Step, Hen!” Dr. Russell found out today that when
I was a little girl I had a story-book in words of one syllable and I
read the name Stephen wrong. I used to read it S-t-e-p, step, h-e-n,
hen. [_Dramatically._] Step Hen is Stephen. [_Enter STEPHEN, his head
bent over a time-table._] Stephen is Step Hen!
STEVE
I? Step Hen?
MABEL
[_Triumphantly._] S-t-e-p, step, H-e-n, hen, Stephen!
HENRIETTA
[_Exploding._] Well, what if Stephen is Step Hen? [_Scornfully._] Step
Hen! Step Hen! For that ridiculous coincidence--
MABEL
Coincidence! But it’s childish to look at the mere elements of a dream.
You have to look _into_ it--you have to see what it _means_!
HENRIETTA
On account of that trivial, meaningless play on syllables--on that
flimsy basis--you are ready--[_Wails._] O-h!
STEVE
What on earth’s the matter? What has happened? Suppose I _am_ Step Hen?
What about it? What does it mean?
MABEL
[_Crying._] It means--that I--have a suppressed desire for _you_!
STEVE
For me! The deuce you have! [_Feebly._] What--er--makes you think so?
MABEL
Dr. Russell has worked it out scientifically.
HENRIETTA
Yes. Through the amazing discovery that Step Hen equals Stephen!
MABEL
[_Tearfully._] Oh, that isn’t all--that isn’t near all. Henrietta won’t
give me a chance to tell it. She’d rather I’d go to the insane asylum
than be unconventional.
HENRIETTA
We’ll all go there if you can’t control yourself. We are still waiting
for some rational report.
MABEL
[_Drying her eyes._] Oh, there’s such a lot about names. [_With some
pride._] I don’t see how I ever did it. It all works in together. I
dreamed I was a hen because that’s the first syllable of _Hen_-rietta’s
name, and when I dreamed I was a hen, I was putting myself in
Henrietta’s place.
HENRIETTA
With Stephen?
MABEL
With Stephen.
HENRIETTA
[_Outraged._] Oh! [_Turns in rage upon STEPHEN, who is fanning himself
with the time-table._] What are you doing with that time-table?
STEVE
Why--I thought--you were so keen to have me go tonight--I thought I’d
just take a run up to Canada, and join Billy--a little shooting--but--
MABEL
But there’s more about the names.
HENRIETTA
Mabel, have you thought of Bob--dear old Bob--your good, kind husband?
MABEL
Oh, Henrietta, “my good, kind husband!”
HENRIETTA
Think of him, Mabel, out there alone in Chicago, working his head off,
fixing people’s _teeth_--for you!
MABEL
Yes, but think of the living Libido--in conflict with petrified moral
codes! And think of the perfectly wonderful way the names all prove
it. Dr. Russell said he’s never seen anything more convincing. Just
look at Stephen’s last name--Brewster. I dream I’m a hen, and the name
Brewster--you have to say its first letter by itself--and then the hen,
that’s me, she says to him: “Stephen, Be Rooster!”
[_HENRIETTA and STEPHEN collapse into the nearest chairs._
MABEL
I think it’s perfectly wonderful! Why, if it wasn’t for psychoanalysis
you’d never find out how wonderful your own mind is!
STEVE
[_Begins to chuckle._] Be Rooster! Stephen, Be Rooster!
HENRIETTA
You think it’s funny, do you?
STEVE
Well, what’s to be done about it? Does Mabel have to go away with me?
HENRIETTA
Do you want Mabel to go away with you?
STEVE
Well, but Mabel herself--her complex--her suppressed desire--!
HENRIETTA
[_Going to her._] Mabel, are you going to insist on going away with
Stephen?
MABEL
I’d rather go with Stephen than go to the insane asylum!
HENRIETTA
For heaven’s sake, Mabel, drop that insane asylum! If you _did_ have a
suppressed desire for Stephen hidden away in you--God knows it isn’t
hidden now. Dr. Russell has brought it into your consciousness--with
a vengeance. That’s all that’s necessary to break up a complex.
Psychoanalysis doesn’t say you have to _gratify_ every suppressed
desire.
STEVE
[_Softly._] Unless it’s for Lyman Eggleston.
HENRIETTA
[_Turning on him._] Well, if it comes to that, Stephen Brewster, I’d
like to know why that interpretation of mine isn’t as good as this one?
Step, Hen!
STEVE
But Be Rooster! [_He pauses, chuckling to himself._] Step-Hen
B-rooster. And _Hen_rietta. Pshaw, my dear, Doc Russell’s got you beat
a mile! [_He turns away and chuckles._] Be rooster!
MABEL
What has Lyman Eggleston got to do with it?
STEVE
According to Henrietta, you, the hen, have a suppressed desire for
_Egg_leston, the egg.
MABEL
Henrietta, I think that’s indecent of you! He is bald as an egg and
little and fat--the idea of you thinking such a thing of me!
HENRIETTA
Well, Bob isn’t little and bald and fat! Why don’t you stick to your
own husband? [_To STEPHEN._] What if Dr. Russell’s interpretation has
got mine “beat a mile”? [_Resentful look at him._] It would only mean
that Mabel doesn’t want Eggleston and does want you. Does that mean she
has to have you?
MABEL
But you said Mabel Snow--
HENRIETTA
_Mary_ Snow! You’re not as much like her as you think--substituting
your name for hers! The cases are entirely different. Oh, I wouldn’t
have _believed_ this of you, Mabel. [_Beginning to cry._] I brought
you here for a pleasant visit--thought you needed brightening
_up_--wanted to be _nice_ to you--and now you--my husband--you insist--
[_In fumbling her way to her chair she brushes to the floor some
sheets from the psychoanalytical table._
STEVE
[_With solicitude._] Careful, dear. Your paper on psychoanalysis!
[_Gathers up sheets and offers them to her._
HENRIETTA
I don’t want my paper on psychoanalysis! I’m sick of psychoanalysis!
STEVE
[_Eagerly._] Do you mean that, Henrietta?
HENRIETTA
Why shouldn’t I mean it? Look at all I’ve done for
psychoanalysis--and--[_Raising a tear-stained face_] what has
psychoanalysis done for me?
STEVE
Do you mean, Henrietta, that you’re going to stop _talking_
psychoanalysis?
HENRIETTA
Why shouldn’t I stop talking it? Haven’t I seen what it does to people?
Mabel has gone crazy about psychoanalysis!
[_At the word_ “crazy” _with a moan MABEL sinks to chair and buries
her face in her hands._
STEVE
[_Solemnly._] Do you swear never to wake me up in the night to find out
what I’m dreaming?
HENRIETTA
Dream what you please--I don’t care what you’re dreaming.
STEVE
Will you clear off my work-table so the Journal of Morbid Psychology
doesn’t stare me in the face when I’m trying to plan a house?
HENRIETTA
[_Pushing a stack of periodicals off the table._] I’ll _burn_ the
Journal of Morbid Psychology!
STEVE
My dear Henrietta, if you’re going to separate from psychoanalysis,
there’s no reason why I should separate from _you_.
[_They embrace ardently. MABEL lifts her head and looks at them
woefully._
MABEL
[_Jumping up and going toward them._] But what about me? What am I to
do with my suppressed desire?
STEVE
[_With one arm still around HENRIETTA, gives MABEL a brotherly hug._]
Mabel, you just keep right on suppressing it!
(CURTAIN)
* * * * *
TICKLESS TIME
A COMEDY IN ONE ACT
(In Collaboration with George Cram Cook)
First performed by the Provincetown Players, New York, December 20, 1918
* * * * *
ORIGINAL CAST
IAN JOYCE, _Who Has Made a Sun-dial_ JAMES LIGHT
ELOISE JOYCE, _Wedded to the Sun-dial_ NORMA MILLAY
MRS. STUBBS, _a Native_ JEAN ROBB
EDDY KNIGHT, _a Standardized Mind_ HUTCHINSON COLLINS
ALICE KNIGHT, _a Standardized Wife_ ALICE MACDOUGAL
ANNIE, _Who Cooks by the Joyces’ Clock_ EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY
TICKLESS TIME
SCENE: _A garden in Provincetown. On the spectator’s right a two-story
house runs back from the proscenium--a door towards the front, a
second-story window towards the back. Across the back runs a thick-set
row of sunflowers nearly concealing a fence or wall. Back of this are
trees and sky. There is a gate at the left rear corner of the garden.
People entering it come straight toward the front, down the left side
and, to reach the house door, pass across the front of the stage. A
fence with sunflowers like that at the back closes off the left wing of
the stage--a tree behind this left fence._
_The sun-dial stands on a broad step or pedestal which partly masks the
digging which takes place behind it. The position of the sun-dial is to
the left of the center of the stage midway between front and back._
_From behind the tree on the left the late afternoon sun throws
a well-defined beam of light upon the horizontal plate of the
sun-dial and upon the shaft which supports it. On this shaft is the
accompanying diagram: two feet high and clearly visible._
[Illustration]
_On the plate of the sun-dial stands the alarm-clock. A huge shovel
leans against the wall of the house-corner at the back._
_IAN is at the sun-dial. He sights over the style to some distant stake
left rear, marking the north. He then sights over the east and west
line toward the six o’clock sun. Looks at shadow. Looks at alarm clock.
Is intensely pleased._
IAN
[_Turning toward house and calling excitedly._] Eloise! Oh, Eloise!
ELOISE
[_Inside house._] Hello!
IAN
Come quick! You’ll miss it.
ELOISE
[_Poking her head out of the second-story window; she cranes her neck
to look straight up in the air._] What is it?
IAN
Come down here quick or you’ll miss it.
ELOISE
[_Disappears from window. A moment later comes running out, one braid
of hair up and one braid down. Again looks wildly up in the air._]
Where is it?
IAN
[_Absorbed in the sun-dial._] Where’s what?
ELOISE
The airplane.
IAN
Airplane? It’s the sun-dial. It’s right. Just look at this six o’clock
shadow. [_She goes around to the other side of it._] It’s absolutely,
mathematically--you’re in the way of the sun, Eloise. [_She steps
aside._] Look! the style is set square on the true north--this is the
fifteenth of June--the clock is checked to the second by telegraph with
the observatory at Washington and see! the clock is exactly nineteen
minutes and twenty seconds behind the shadow--the precise difference
between Provincetown local time and standard Eastern time.
ELOISE
Then the sun-dial’s really finished--and working right! After all
these, weeks! Oh, Ian!
[_Embraces him._
IAN
It’s good to get it right after all those mistakes. [_With vision._]
Why, Eloise, getting this right has been a symbol of man’s whole search
for truth--the discovery and correction of error--the mind compelled to
conform step by step to astronomical fact--to truth.
ELOISE
[_Going to it again._] And to think that it’s the sun-dial which is
true and the clock--all the clocks--are wrong! I’m glad it is true.
Alice Knight has been here talking to me for an hour. I want to think
that something’s true.
IAN
That’s just it, Eloise. The sun-dial is more than sun-dial. It’s a
first-hand relation with truth. A personal relation. When you take
your time from a clock you are mechanically getting information from a
machine. You’re nothing but a clock yourself.
ELOISE
Like Alice Knight.
IAN
But the sun-dial--this shadow is an original document--a scholar’s
source.
ELOISE
To tell time by the shadow of the sun--so large and simple.
IAN
I wouldn’t call it simple. Here on this diagram I have worked out--
ELOISE
Dearest, you know I can’t understand diagrams. But I get the feeling of
it, Ian--the sun, the North star. I love to think that this [_Placing
her hands on the style_] is set by the North star. [_Her right hand
remains on the style, her left prolongs its line heavenward._] Why, if
I could go on long enough I’d get _to_ the North star!
IAN