Produced by David Widger
This is the sixth book issued by the Beaumont Press 24 copies (four of
which are not for sale) have been printed on Japanese vellum signed
by the author and numbered 1 to 24 and 250 copies on hand-made paper
numbered 25 to 274 This is No. 46
ONE DAY MORE
A PLAY IN ONE ACT
BY JOSEPH CONRAD
CHARACTERS
Captain Hagberd (a retired coasting skipper).
Josiah Carvil (formerly a shipbuilder--a widower--blind).
Harry Hagberd (son of Captain Hagberd, who as a boy ran away from home).
A Lamplighter.
Bessie Carvil (daughter of Josiah Carvil).
SCENE
A small sea port.
To rights two yellow brick cottages belonging to Captain Hagberd, one
inhabited by himself the other by the Carvils. A lamp-post in front. The
red roofs of the town in the background. A sea-wall to left.
Time: The present-early autumn, towards dusk.
ONE DAY MORE
SCENE I.
CURTAIN RISES DISCLOSING CARVIL _and Bessie moving away from sea-wall.
Bessie about twenty-five. Black dress; black straw hat. A lot of
mahogany-coloured hair loosely done up. Pale face. Full figure. Very
quiet. Carvil, blind, unwieldy. Reddish whiskers; slow, deep voice
produced without effort. Immovable, big face._
Carvil (_Hanging heavily on Bessie's arm_). Careful! Go slow! (_Stops;
Bessie waits patiently_.) Want your poor blind father to break his neck?
(_Shuffles on_.) In a hurry to get home and start that everlasting yarn
with your chum the lunatic?
Bessie. I am not in a hurry to get home, father.
Carvil. Well, then, go steady with a poor blind man. Blind! Helpless!
(_Strikes the ground with his stick_.) Never mind! I've had time to make
enough money to have ham and eggs for breakfast every morning--thank
God! And thank God, too, for it, girl. You haven't known a single
hardship in all the days of your idle life. Unless you think that a
blind, helpless father-------
Bessie. What is there for me to be in a hurry for?
Carvil. What did you say?
Bessie. I said there was nothing for me to hurry home for.
Carvil. There is, tho'. To yarn with a lunatic. Anything to get away
from your duty.
Bessie. Captain Hagberd's talk never hurt you or anybody else.
Carvil. Go on. Stick up for your only friend.
Bessie. Is it my fault that I haven't another soul to speak to?
Carvil (_Snarls_). It's mine, perhaps. Can I help being blind? You fret
because you want to be gadding about--with a helpless man left all alone
at home. Your own father too.
Bessie. I haven't been away from you half a day since mother died.
Carvil (_Viciously_). He's a lunatic, our landlord is. That's what he
is. Has been for years--long before those damned doctors destroyed my
sight for me. (_Growls angrily, then sighs_.)
Bessie. Perhaps Captain Hagberd is not so mad as the town takes him for.
Carvil. (_Grimly_). Don't everybody know how he came here from the North
to wait till his missing son turns up--here--of all places in the world.
His boy that ran away to sea sixteen years ago and never did give a sign
of life since! Don't I remember seeing people dodge round corners out
of his way when he came along High Street. Seeing him, I tell you.
(_Groan_.) He bothered everybody so with his silly talk of his son being
sure to come back home--next year--next spring--next month------. What
is it by this time, hey?
Bessie. Why talk about it? He bothers no one now.
Carvil. No. They've grown too fly. You've got only to pass a remark on
his sail-cloth coat to make him shut up. All the town knows it. But he's
got you to listen to his crazy talk whenever he chooses. Don't I hear
you two at it, jabber, jabber, mumble, mumble------
Bessie. What is there so mad in keeping up hope?
Carvil (_Scathing scorn_). Not mad! Starving himself to lay money
by--for that son. Filling his house with furniture he won't let anyone
see--for that son. Advertising in the papers every week, these sixteen
years--for that son. Not mad! Boy, he calls him. Boy Harry. His boy
Harry. His lost boy Harry. Yah! Let him lose his sight to know what real
trouble means. And the boy--the man, I should say--must 've been put
away safe in Davy Jones's locker for many a year--drowned--food for
fishes--dead.... Stands to reason, or he would have been here before,
smelling around the old fool's money. (_Shakes Bessie's arm slightly_.)
Hey?
Bessie. I don't know. May be.
Carvil (_Bursting out_). Damme if I don't think he ever had a son.
Bessie. Poor man. Perhaps he never had.
Carvil. Ain't that mad enough for you? But I suppose you think it
sensible.
Bessie. What does it matter? His talk keeps him up.
Carvil. Aye! And it pleases you. Anything to get away from your poor
blind father.... Jabber, jabber--mumble, mumble--till I begin to think
you must be as crazy as he is. What do you find to talk about, you two?
What's your game?
(_During the scene Carvil and Bessie have crossed stage from L. to R.
slowly with stoppages_.)
Bessie. It's warm. Will you sit out for a while?
Carvil (_Viciously_). Yes, I will sit out. (_Insistent_.) But what can
be your game? What are you up to? (_They pass through garden gate_.)
Because if it's his money you are after-------
Bessie. Father! How can you!
Carvil (_Disregarding her_). To make you independent of your poor blind
father, then you are a fool. (_Drops heavily on seat_.) He's too much of
a miser to ever make a will--even if he weren't mad.
Bessie. Oh! It never entered my head. I swear it never did.
Carvil. Never did. Hey! Then you are a still bigger fool.... I want to
go to sleep! (_Takes off' his hat, drops it on ground, and leans his
head back against the wall_.)
Bessie. And I have been a good daughter to you. Won't you say that for
me?
Carvil (_Very distinctly_). I want--to--go--to--sleep. I'm tired.
(_Closes his eyes_.)
(_During that scene Captain Hagberd has been seen hesitating at the
back of stage, then running quickly to the door of his cottage. He puts
inside a tin kettle (from under his coat) and comes down to the railing
between the two gardens stealthily_).