SCENE——_same as in act_ I. _Table as before. Arm-chair_ R.
_Sewing-chair_ L. _Arm-chair a little back of mantel. Flat as before.
Entrance same. Flower-stand ditto._ NANCY _discovered dusting table
with a long-handled feather duster._
NANCY. It’s most time to hear from Mr. Manning. Two days since we’ve
had a letter. Queer freak that was of his’n, turning Mr. Marcus Graves
out of doors, and all at once starting off west to bring him back.
(_Dusts at back._) Couldn’t have been because Miss Bess was pining
away, because she isn’t. Her appetite is good; and, when love doesn’t
affect that, there’s no use in worrying. (_Dusts piano._) She’s just as
happy all day riding about with Matt Winsor as she was with the other.
And what a change in him. Came here, six months ago, a drunken tramp;
and now he’s as spruce and clean and shiney as our copper boiler,——and
so jolly and pleasant, too. And so eager to help, one can’t help liking
him. I’m sure Miss Bess does. (_Dusts at mantel._) Look out, Mr.
Graves; I wouldn’t give much for your chance three months from now, if
you leave the field to the tramp.
(_Enter_ C., MAY, _in apron and gloves, a trowel in her hand; followed
by_ SIMON, _who carries a flower-pot containing a geranium. He keeps
his back to_ NANCY.)
MAY. You may place that geranium on the flower-stand. (SIMON _goes to
stand and busies himself there._) That’s all I shall need at present.
Thank you. Anybody been here, Nancy?
NANCY. No marm. Mr. Manning hasn’t come yet.
MAY. You are mistaken, Nancy; had I meant him, I should not have said
anybody, for he is _everybody_ to me. Ha! ha!
NANCY. Well, then, there hasn’t been nobody here.
MAY. That’s better, Nancy. I’ll run and get rid of my apron and gloves,
for fear _somebody_ might happen in.
(_Exit door_ L.)
NANCY. Poor thing! She’s just as anxious to hear from her husband as
she can be. I know the symptoms. There’s that good-for-nothing Simon
Stone. I’ve not seen him since he took to the candy business; but I’d
just give all my old shoes to hear the sound of his voice once more.
SIMON (_sneezing very loud_). Ah-chah!
NANCY (R. _starting._) Good gracious! It’s that new gardener come
to-day. If he sneezes like that among his flowers, he’ll have
everything up by the roots. Look here, sir, that won’t do!
SIMON (_turning round_). Why not, Nancy, is it washing-day?
NANCY. Mercy! It’s Simon Stone!
SIMON. It is, Nancy. Your Simon. Come to my arms. (_Advances with arms
outstretched._)
NANCY (_thrusts the duster straight out before her._ SIMON _puts his
face among the feathers_). Hands off!
SIMON (_spits and sputters_). Phew! Pooh! Nancy, do you want to
strangle me?
NANCY. I don’t mean you shall strangle me. What are you doing here?
SIMON. Humbly, but earnestly, I trust, about my business.
NANCY. The candy business?
SIMON. No, Nancy; the saccharine and treacle elements have been
eliminated from my existence.
NANCY. What’s the meaning of that outlandish stuff? Can’t you speak
English?
SIMON. Yes; I’ve cut the sugar and molasses. In that line I burned to
distinguish myself, but I burnt too much candy in trying to do it. So
my employer requested me to cut stick.
NANCY. Sticks of candy?
SIMON. No, no, myself——leave, varmouse.
NANCY. Oh! you were discharged.
SIMON. Yes; I went off and became a policeman.
NANCY. A policeman! Simon, I always told you you would come to some bad
end!
SIMON. Well, the end of my career, in that line, was rather bad. Ah!
but Nancy, you should have seen me in my uniform, brass buttons, and
shield. You would have been proud of me, had you seen me on my beat
with my billy.
NANCY. Billy who?
SIMON. Ignorant female! My weapon of defence; the stick with which I
terrified old apple-women and young news-boys.
NANCY. Why didn’t you show yourself? I don’t think you needed any
_other_ stick to frighten them.
SIMON. Nancy, I was a hero on parade; but when it came to stepping
into a row, I must say I felt more like knocking under than knocking
over. In fact, my conscience became very tender on that point, one
night, on having my billy taken away from me by a burly butcher, and
being impressed, yes, several times impressed, with its hardness as he
whacked me over the head with it. The situation struck me so forcibly,
to say nothing of the billy, I quietly resigned my office, and retired
to the humble but more healthy walks of life.
NANCY. Well, Mr. Stone, what next?
SIMON. Mr. Stone! Nancy, don’t be hard on me; call me Simon, _pure_
Simon, _simple_ Simon. Do! O Nancy! you are my life, my love! Do come
to my arms! (_Advances with arms extended._)
NANCY (_advances duster as before_). Stand back! I prefer my own arms!
SIMON (_spits and sputters_). Ah-choh! You’ll smother me with dust!
NANCY. Then behave yourself. Go on with your next occupation.
SIMON. It is that honorable profession in which our first great
ancestor won renown.
NANCY. By sticking to it,——which you will never do.
SIMON. And yet, for love of you, cruel Nancy, I’ve sought this lowly
occupation. The Lady of Lyons inspired me.
NANCY. Who’s she? One of the candy-girls?
SIMON. Candy-girls? Nancy, have you forgotten the play?
NANCY. Oh! she was the young woman in spangles, that went in among the
lions at the menagerie. Pretty lady she was.
SIMON. Nancy, I blush for you.
NANCY. Well, I blushed for her. She had no chance herself, with such
daubs on her face.
SIMON. Nancy, you’re wrong. “The Lady of Lyons” is a play in which a
gardener, Claude——somebody, falls in love with a beautiful lady. I went
to see it, Nancy; and the way that young feller made love was amazing.
You’d never believe he knew anything about rutabagas and cabbages. It
give me an idea, Nancy. Says I, Simon, woo Nancy in that particular
metre when you meet her, and victory is yours. (_Strikes an attitude._)
“Nancy, I mean Pauline, bright angels have fallen ere thy time——”
NANCY. What! you saucy scamp! (_Chasing him round table, beating him
with brush._)
SIMON. Stop! Don’t! Quit! Nancy, that’s what the feller said in the
play——Claude, you know.
NANCY. Don’t you ever use such language as that to me, if you do I’ll
scald you.
SIMON. Now don’t let you and I get into hot water because we are under
the same roof. You shall have the prettiest flowers, Nancy, in the
garden, if you’ll only smile upon me. O Nancy! (_Strikes attitude._)
“If thou wouldst have me paint the home——”
NANCY. Paint! are you going to be a painter now?
SIMON. No, Nancy, that’s what Claude said.
NANCY. Bother Claude! stick to your gardening. Do that for six months,
Simon, and I’ll marry you.
SIMON. Will you, though? then I’ll stick to it forever. Nancy, seal the
bargain with a kiss. (_Advances._)
NANCY (_presenting brush as before_). Some other time.
SIMON (_shaking his head, and walking off_ L. _without touching
brush_). Thou _dust_ not tempt me.
NANCY. Now, Simon, quit your nonsense and tell me, where’s Marcus
Graves?
SIMON. The young man has gone West.
NANCY. And you know nothing about him?
SIMON. Haven’t heard a word from him. By the by, Nancy, who’s the gent
that sticks so close to Miss Bessie?
NANCY. You’d never guess, Simon; that’s the very identical tramp that
stopped here six months ago,——the very day you called——
SIMON. Yes, washing-day. Well, Nancy, you must have given him a
scrubbing. It seems to me he had something to do with Marc’s sudden
departure.
NANCY. Everything. He denounced him as a defaulter; and, on his
account, Mr. Manning turned Marcus Graves out of his house.
SIMON. Indeed!
NANCY. Yes. You see he was Mr. Manning’s comrade in the war! and he
thinks the world of him.
SIMON. And he accused Marc, the noblest fellow in the world. I’d like
to get even with him for that. Is he married?
NANCY. No; but I shouldn’t wonder if he and Miss Bessie made a match of
it.
SIMON. Poor Marc! What’s the fellow’s name?
NANCY. Matt Winsor.
SIMON. Matt! Matt! Stop a moment! (_Takes memorandum book from his
pocket, and turns the leaves rapidly._) H. I. J. K. L. M. Here it
is——Matt Winsor. Ha! ha! ho! ho! He’s mine! He’s mine!
NANCY. And what’s all that, Simon?
SIMON (_strikes book_). That, Nancy, is my savings bank. Little bits of
information that I picked up as a policeman, and preserved for future
use. Nancy, look at me! I’m going to astonish you. So the tramp’s sweet
on Miss Bessie, is he? Nancy, I’ll astonish him. Ay, the whole world
shall be astonished. (_Strikes attitude, and spouts._)
“And thou, Pauline, so wildly loved, so guiltily betrayed——all is not
lost. If I live, the name of him thou hast once loved shall not be
dishonored; if I die amidst the carnage and the roar of battle, my soul
shall fly back to thee.” (_Approaches her as before._)
NANCY (_advances brush as before; he runs upon it_). What are you
talking about?
SIMON (_sputtering._) Pooh! Pah! That’s what he said,——Claude, you know.
NANCY. Hang Claude!
SIMON. Hush! (_Looks around._) Nancy, can you keep a secret?
NANCY. Try me.
SIMON. Without opening your lips?
NANCY. Try me.
SIMON (_throws his arm about her, prisoning her arms._) There, keep
that, Nancy. (_Kisses her, and runs up_ C.)
NANCY (_fiercely_). You horrid wretch! (_Chases him up to door_ C.
_beating him with brush. He exits_ C.)
NANCY (_coming down wiping her mouth_). Well, this is a new business to
him, and I hope he’ll stick to it.
(_Exit_ I. E. R. _Enter_ MAY _Door_ L.)
MAY. What can keep Bess so long? She went off riding with Matt two
hours ago. She seems very fond of him. (_Goes up to door, looks off,
and returns_ C.) I don’t like that. For Roy’s sake I have endeavored to
make this man’s stay with us pleasant, and though I can never forget
his rough introduction, I have no reason to complain of his conduct
since. He is gentle and obliging, has not tasted a drop of liquor since
that day, and in every way shown himself to be at heart a gentleman.
(_Sits in chair_ R. _of table._) And yet I have some good reasons for
complaint. He claims so much of Roy’s time. The hours he spent with
me here are now given to Matt, smoking in the garden, fighting their
battles over again, I dare say. I’m afraid I’m a little jealous of
that; and then his fondness for Bess, and her fondness for him. Ah!
there’s grave cause for anxiety there. Roy laughs at me when I speak of
it; but suppose they should fall in love with each other? Roy says he’s
much older than she. He forgets there is almost as much difference in
our ages as there is in theirs. I don’t like it. I believe Roy would
be pleased to have them marry; but not I. No! no! Oh, if Marcus Graves
would only return!
Bess (_outside_). Ha! ha! ha! fairly beaten. Victory, victory (_runs
in_ C. _down_ R.). Oh, May! such a glorious victory. I’ve distanced the
bold cavalryman on a clear stretch of five miles. Ha! ha! ha!
(_Enter Matt._ C.)
MATT. Cleverly done, little one. I tried my best, but for once, you
have fairly beaten me. Ah, Roy’s wife,——the little one is a capital
horseman. If ever I go to war again she shall be enlisted in the same
company.
BESS. Not I. There’s better company at home. Only think of it; Roger
beat Rollo, fairly outstripped him. He never did such a thing before.
MATT. The gallant fellow knew the soft caress of a pretty little hand,
would reward his efforts. Who wouldn’t do his best for that?
MAY. And the other gallant fellow was too polite to snatch victory from
those pretty hands.
MATT. No, no. No favor was shown.
BESS. Not a bit. You should have heard our cavalryman shout, and seen
him ply the whip. Mercy! I thought a troop of horse was coming down
upon me.
MATT. Yes, I was a little noisy I confess. For a moment the old feeling
was upon me. The swift pace, made my blood whirl. I saw before me not
you, brave little one, but the enemy, in line of battle; the roars of
cannon filled my ears, the smoke of battle my nostrils. The old cry
came to my lips. Down on them! Death to the foe! Charge. (_Goes_ R.)
BESS (_comes to_ C.). Goodness, gracious! what a noise.
MATT. I beg your pardon; I hope I didn’t swear.
BESS. Make your mind easy, with the discharge of that terrific
“charge;” there could be need for nothing more explosive.
MATT. Ah, well, it’s hard for a dog to forget his old tricks. I wish
I could mine. I’m a rough fellow at the best. It’s a new life for me,
this quiet home, you so kind and friendly, Roy’s friendship,——No, no;
that’s not new. Heaven bless him: he’s the same old comrade of the
battle days. I know I must be in the way here.
BESS. You are the best old fellow in the world (_gives hands_), and I
love you dearly.
MATT. Love _me_?
BESS. As if you were my own brother. There sir, there’s a confession:
make the most of it.
MATT. I wish I deserved it, little one; but it makes me (_wiping eyes_)
very——that is——its——too much. (_Aside._) Confound it, I shall blubber
(_Aloud._) Any news of Roy, Mrs. May?
MAY. No: I hoped you might have been to the office.
MATT. To be sure, and I galloping after this young Will-o’-the-Wisp.
Oh, it’s shameful, but I’ll go at once. If we only have Roy back what
a jolly day this will be. You shan’t wait long, Roy’s wife. Good-bye
little one. (_Goes out_ C.)
BESS (_goes_ R.). I challenge you to another race, to-morrow morning.
MATT (_turns_). I accept.
BESS. Five miles.
MATT. A straight course.
BESS. Mind, no favor.
MATT. All right. Shake hands on it.
BESS (_gives hand_). There you have it. Now to the Post
Office,——charge.
MATT. Ay, charge for liberty, or——
BESS. A letter. Don’t forget the letter.
MATT. All right, little one: I’m off. (_Exit._)
BESS. Isn’t he splendid, May? I never saw a man I liked so well.
MAY. Ah! have you forgotten Marcus Graves, Bess?
BESS. Eh? Hasn’t he forgotten me?
MAY. I think not. At any time we may have news of him. You know Roy is
now seeking him, for your sake.
BESS. He’s very kind. (_Aside._) Now what’s the matter with her, I
wonder?
MAY. And this man, Matt Winsor, caused his dismissal.
BESS. Poor fellow. He didn’t mean any harm. And I’m sure it is for the
best.
MAY. Suppose he should never return?
BESS. Well, then, I should try and make the best of it.
MAY. Bess, do you know this man loves you?
BESS. Marcus Graves? well, he ought to.
MAY. No, this man, Matt Winsor.
BESS. (_Aside._) Ah! the cat’s out of the bag. (_Aloud._) Good
gracious! Has he told you so?
MAY. No, but I read it in every glance at his eye, every flush of his
cheek. Oh! Bess, Bess, you must not encourage this.
BESS. Encourage,——I——well I never. Didn’t I tell him I loved him as a
brother.
MAY. Suppose he should some day tell you he adored you?
BESS. ’Twould be just like him. Soldiers adore, Civilians love. I
prefer adoration, its a longer word, and of course contains more of the
language of love.
MAY. Suppose he should ask you to marry him?
BESS. Suppose, suppose anything you like. (_Cross to door_ L.). I’m
going to change my dress.
MAY. And you withhold from me your confidence, Bess, Bess, this is not
right.
BESS. May, don’t lecture me. Do let me enjoy myself, ’twill be time to
warn when the grub brother turns into the butterfly lover. (_Aside._)
She dares to doubt my love for Marcus. I’ll plague her well for that.
(_Exit door_ L.)
MAY (_rising_). ’Tis as I feared, she is learning to love this man;
this tramp, who, in some unaccountable manner, fascinates the whole
household. Roy delights in his company. Bess is happy at his side; even
Nancy, the man hater, almost worships him, while I feel magnetized by
his presence; and yet he robs me of my husband’s society. But he must
not win my Bess, there’s too much at stake, an accident might rouse
the slumbering curse of his former life, and then what a fate would be
hers. Oh, no, she must be saved from that, though I make an enemy of my
husband’s comrade. But how? (_Sits_ R. _of table._) How?
(_Enter_ SIMON C.)
SIMON. I beg your pardon.
MAY. Well what is it; anything the matter in the garden?
SIMON. No, everything is flourishing there: I’ve weeded out all that’s
unsightly and unwholesome; but there’s something wrong here in the
house.
MAY. In the house,——what do you mean?
SIMON. Mrs. Manning, gardening has not been the sole occupation of my
life. Before I entered your service I was a policeman.
MAY. Well?
SIMON. Now, a policeman picks up a great many things in the course of
his experience, and, in my short career, I have gained a morsel of
information that may be useful to you.
MAY. I do not understand you.
SIMON. Mrs. Manning, I was a short time ago, one of the humble
instruments that rescued an unfortunate woman from the beastly
brutality of a ruffian. I say one, the other was my billy. She was a
poor fallen creature, who, in a drunken brawl was cruelly beaten. As
I said, _we_ rescued her in an almost dying condition. She was taken
to Belleview hospital. As this was the only real service I performed
during my brief career, I was interested in her case, and frequently
called to see her. I was told she could not live. In the kindest manner
possible for a policeman, I informed her of the fact. In return she
told me she was a wife and mother, that her husband still lived.
MAY. I do not understand how this can interest me. I pity the poor
woman. Can I help her?
SIMON. You can help her to find her husband.
MAY. I?
SIMON. Yes, for you know him. She gave me his name,——Matt Winsor.
MAY. Matt Winsor? impossible! he has told me he has no wife.
SIMON. Then he’s a villain. I have told you all I know. The woman is
dying. Let him know that, and if he denies her, then——
MAY. Why have you told me this?
SIMON. Because he wronged my warm friend Marcus Graves. Drove him from
this house. I want to see him treated as he treated Marcus.
MAY. Enough! you may go. (_Simon turns, and goes up._) Stay. I may want
to speak with you again. (_Simon goes up to plants, and busies himself
trimming them._) Drive him from this home. My husband’s friend. Wretch,
he deserves no pity. I’ll fling his perfidy in his teeth. He dare to
love Bess? Ah, I have the power to save her. Heaven be praised.
SIMON. He is here.
MAY. For the last time, I am determined.
(MATT _runs in_ C.)
MATT. No letter, Roy’s wife, and that’s the best news I could bring.
For as he has not written ’tis a proof he’s on the road home. Dear old
boy! How glad we shall all be to see him. (_Pause._) Ah! what’s the
matter?
MAY. When a spy is caught in his enemy’s camp, what is done with him?
MATT. He’s strung to a tree, without judge or jury.
MAY. When a rogue is caught playing the honest man, in a peaceful and
loving family, what should be his fate?
MATT. He should be turned adrift, and shunned forever more.
MAY. Right (_rising_). You have sentenced yourself. This house is no
longer your home.
MATT. No longer——my home;——why——what is this?
MAY (_rises_). Matt Winsor, listen to me. You entered this house a
miserable, drunken vagabond. You were tenderly cared for, because you
were our Roy’s comrade. We trusted you, confided in you, and you——like
a viper——turned and stung the hand that fed you.
MATT. No, no; ’tis false. I have repaid trust with trust.
MAY. Indeed! As you repaid the trust of that poor woman now dying in
Belleview Hospital. (_Enter_ BESS L.) Your wife.
MATT (_agitated_). My wife——my wife?
MAY. Ah! your agitation is confession, and yet you told me you had no
wife. Wretch! you dare not face my husband’s flashing eye, with this
infamy known to him. You drove a noble fellow away by your accusations.
Think you Roy, who could not bear his presence, will suffer a greater
criminal to rest beneath his roof. And what greater criminal can there
be than he who deserts his wife: his trusting wife?
MATT. Stop, stop, I say. You must not make me hate you, for you are
Roy’s wife. My friend’s wife. Taunt me not. I will go out into the cold
world once more. It’s only a step, and I am the outcast, the tramp,
again.
BESS (_runs to_ MATT). No, no, you must not go. Roy will soon return.
MAY. Let him face him if he dares. (_Goes_ R.)
MATT. Fear not, I will not face him. I told you, Bess, I was not wanted
here. I have come between man and wife. A part of the affection which
should have been all hers has gone out to the man who, in auld lang
syne, tried to be a true friend. Let it pass. For all your kindness to
me, accept my thanks. I shall trouble you no more. (_Goes up to_ C.)
BESS. Oh, Matt! Don’t leave us. (_Gives hands._)
MATT (_kissing them_). It is right, little one, we have been very
happy, too happy for so poor a wretch as I. Roy’s wife, hear me before
I leave your house. I spoke the truth to you. I have no wife!
SIMON (_comes down_). That’s a lie, and I can prove it.
MATT. Ah! this is your work.
SIMON. I own it. There’s nothing shabby about me. (_Goes_ R. _back._)
MATT. I spoke the truth. Years ago I went to battle for my country,
leaving at home my wife and child. Oh, how I loved them, bitterly I
knew when returning from my first campaign, I found my wife had fled
with my dearest friend, leaving our child to the care of strangers, who
had taken her far, far away. In vain I sought her. She was gone. Oh,
Bess, if you have found any tenderness in the rough soldier’s heart,
thank this for it; for out of grace and gentleness I had fashioned an
image of my lost child which you resembled, little one.
MAY. Oh, what do I hear?
MATT. Heaven bless you. Heaven bless all beneath this roof; and heaven
help the poor wanderer now. (_Goes out door_ C.)
BESS. Oh Matt, Matt, stay with us.
MAY. Matt, Matt, come back. (_Cross to_ L.)
MATT (_turns in doorway_). No; you have driven me out, as I drove out
another. We are quits. (MAY _sinks into chair_ R. _of table._)
(_Exit_ C.)
SIMON. He’s gone. (_Comes down_ R.)
(_Enter_ NANCY. R. I. E.)
BESS. Oh May, how could you be so cruel! (_Falls into_ MAY’S _arms._)
MAY. I thought it my duty, Bess.
NANCY. Who’s driven out now?
SIMON (_comes down_). Matt Winsor; and I did it, Nancy.
NANCY. You? ’Twas a shabby trick.
ROY (_outside_). May, May. Home again.
MAY. Roy, Roy, at last. (_Jumps up._)
(_Enter_ ROY C.)
ROY. Ah, my darling. (_Catches her in his arms._)
MAY (_runs into his arms_). Oh, Roy.
ROY. Bless you, sweetheart: it’s good to meet you once again. And Bess
bright as ever, give me a kiss.
BESS. A dozen. (_Kisses him._)
ROY. That’s sweet; and, in return, I’ve brought you something nice.
BESS. Good news? (_Goes_ R.)
ROY. Yes: in the original package. Come in Marcus.
(MARCUS _runs in_ C.)
MARCUS. Bess, my darling.
BESS (_runs into his arms_). Oh, Marcus.
ROY. Yes; we’ve had excellent luck: just at the last moment, too. We
had about given up in despair when the excellent but thick-headed
senior partner of the concern, happened to pull out a drawer in the
safe, and there, closely packed behind it was the missing bills. Marcus
was a hero, at once. I had hard work to bring him away; but here he is.
Ah, Nancy, how are you? (_Goes_ R. _and shakes hands with her._ BESS
_and_ GRAVES _comes to_ L.)
NANCY. Hearty, thank you sir.
ROY. And this is my new gardener (_shakes hands with him_). How does
the garden flourish?
SIMON. Splendidly, thank you, sir.
ROY (_returns to_ C.). Well, and how has my little wife spent the dull
days?
MAY. Trying her best to kill time, and bring this happy day nearer.
ROY. Well, I’m rejoiced to find you are well, and Matt——where’s Matt?
He surely should be on hand to give his comrade a merry welcome. (_All
stand silent._) How’s this, where is he? Is he ill?
MAY (_with an effort_). He is gone, Roy.
ROY. Gone? what, left the house?
MAY. Oh, Roy, he is unworthy of your regard. He has deceived us. He has
a wife living.
ROY. Indeed! How did you hear this?
SIMON. I, sir, was the humble instrument of his exposure.
ROY. Oh, you were.
SIMON. I was told by a poor, dying woman that he was her husband, and
I thought it my duty to inform Mrs. Manning of his duplicity. It was
a painful duty, sir, but I never shirk my duty. In that line there’s
nothing shabby about me.
ROY. Oh! then it’s my duty to inform you that your services as gardener
here, will no longer be required.
SIMON. Oh! (_aside_) here’s gratitude.
NANCY. Serves you right, Claude Meddlenot.
ROY. And so poor Matt, in shame, took himself off?
MAY (_confused_). No——Roy——you’re not quite right there; for
I——I——drove him away.
ROY. You,——May;——you drove the man, who once saved your husband’s life,
from his house?
MAY. I,——forgive me, Roy,——I thought I was right. (_Goes towards him._)
ROY. Don’t come near me. Driven my old friend out? Do you know what
that means?——disgrace for him, shame for me. He will die in the gutter.
No, no; it shall not be. I’ll not eat or sleep until I find him.
MAY. Oh, Roy, you will not leave me. (_Throws herself upon his neck._)
ROY. For his sake, May, yes. Do not hold me. You have done a fearful
wrong, as you will one day learn. (_She unfolds her arms and staggers
to mantel._) My brave, old comrade. You have struggled hard for a
better life. Strike out, struggle on. You shall not sink. I will save
you yet.
(_Runs out_ C.)
MAY _staggers down to chair_ R. _of table, face on table._ BESS _runs
and leans over her._ MARCUS, C. _watching them._ NANCY R. _points up
stage, and_ SIMON, _with a woeful face, looks at her._
CURTAIN.