_Christmas Eve, 1920._
_The action takes place in New York City._
THE FOOL
_ACT I._
SCENE: _The Church of the Nativity. New York._
_The set, representing only the chancel, is as deep as possible, so
that, even when its foreground is brightly illuminated, the detail
back of that is lost in shadows. Pierced by three fine stained glass
windows, the rear wall looms above the altar, on which the candles
are not lighted. In front of that is the sanctuary, and, in front of
that, the communion rail, with three steps to the stage. Just right
of these steps is a very tall and beautiful Christmas tree. The tree
has been expensively trimmed, and has a practical connection for an
electric-lighted ornament still to be placed at its top. Down R., a
door to the choir room, and, down L., a door to the parish house and
the street. These doors are exactly alike. Down L., two folding wooden
chairs that have been brought in for temporary use. A tall stepladder
L. of the tree, facing front. Down R., two wooden boxes of ornaments,
that on top open and half emptied. There is a pile of tissue-wrapped
and ribboned packages under the tree, and a general litter of gifts,
boxes, and crumpled paper everywhere. The Church of the Nativity is
fashionable and luxurious; the effect of the set must be that of a
peeping into a building spacious, magnificent, and majestic._
AT RISE: _Christmas Eve, 1918. The act begins in bright
day-light--about half past three in the afternoon--so that the early
winter twilight may have set in before its end. The sun's rays now
come through a stained-glass window above the door L., so that the
R. of the stage is bathed in white, the C. in blue, and the L. in
a deep straw. Two women and a girl are discovered._ MRS. HENRY
GILLIAM, _bending over the box down L., is fat, forty, rich and
self-satisfied. Her daughter_, DAFFODIL, _commonly called
"Dilly," perched upon the ladder, is a "flapper." As regards her
mind, this means that, at twenty, she is wise and witty, cynical and
confident, worldly and material beyond her elders. Physically, she is
pretty, and, of course, has not hesitated to help out nature wherever
she has thought it advisable. Considering what has been spent on her
education, she is surprisingly ignorant and discourteous, particularly
to her mother, who bores her dreadfully._ LEILA THORNBURY
_is a divorcee; thirty, smart, good-looking, with something feverish
in her face, in her eyes, in her movements. Deliberately attractive
to men, she is disliked, in proportion, by women. All three are very
expensively dressed. Mrs. Thornbury has laid aside a fur coat on the
cost of which twenty families might have lived a year. She is at the
end of the stage, concerned with a number of dolls and other toys._
MRS. GILLIAM
[_Turning with some ornament, on a level with her eyes she observes a
generous view of_ DILLY'S _nether limbs_]: Dilly, for pity's
sake, pull down your skirt! [_As_ DILLY _pays no attention,
she continues to_ MRS. THORNBURY] I don't know what skirts
are coming to!
DILLY
They're not coming to the ground, mother. You can be sure of _that_!
MRS. GILLIAM
What _I_ can't understand is why our young women want to go around
looking like chorus girls!
MRS. THORNBURY
Perhaps they've noticed the kind of men that marry chorus girls.
DILLY
Salesmanship, mother, begins with a willingness to show goods.
MRS. GILLIAM
Dilly! _Pull down your skirt!_
DILLY
I can't! That's all there is; there isn't any more!
MRS. THORNBURY
[_Holding up two dolls_]: What are we going to do with these?
MRS. GILLIAM
[_Despairingly surveying the profusion_]: Goodness knows!
MRS. THORNBURY
I've two engagements before dinner, and I've got to go home and
undress for the opera.
DILLY
_I_ gave up a dance for this.
MRS. GILLIAM
A dance at this hour?
DILLY
People dance at any hour, mother.
MRS. GILLIAM
What do they do it for?
DILLY
For something to do. [_To_ MRS. THORNBURY] _We're_ young and
we've got to have life and gaiety; haven't we, Mrs. Thornbury?
MRS. THORNBURY
We've got to have something. I don't know what it is, but I know we
have to keep going to get it.
MRS. GILLIAM
But you all waste your time so dreadfully. I'm busy, too, but my life
is given to the service of others.
DILLY
What could be sweeter?
MRS. GILLIAM
Dilly! Nobody knows better than you that I've never had a selfish
thought! Mr. Gilliam----
DILLY
Of the Gilliam Groceries, Inc.
MRS. GILLIAM
_Mr. Gilliam_ says I'm far _too_ good!
MRS. THORNBURY
We agree with him, Mrs. Gilliam.
MRS. GILLIAM
Only yesterday I gave five hundred pounds of coffee and sugar to the
Salvation Army!
DILLY
And today father jumped the price of sugar to thirty-two cents!
MRS. THORNBURY
Now--Dilly!
MRS. GILLIAM
[_With rising emotion_]: One gets precious little reward.... I can
tell you! I sent helpful thoughts from the Bible to all Mr. Gilliam's
employes! Now they're on strike, and the man that got "Be content with
your wages" is leading the strikers!... Where's the Star of Bethlehem?
[_To conceal her agitation, she has turned to the box._]
DILLY
It doesn't work, mother.
MRS. THORNBURY
Are those your husband's men--on the front steps?
MRS. GILLIAM
Oh, no! Those are people from the sweat shops! They're starving, I
hear, and Mr. Gilliam says it serves 'em right! [_Bringing forth a
small case_] What's the matter with the Star of Bethlehem?
DILLY
Oh, the usual! Whoever heard of the lights working on a Christmas
Tree?
MRS. GILLIAM
[_Holding up the star_]: But this _must_ work. Mrs. Tice had it made
to order--of Parisian diamonds. It cost a hundred dollars.
DILLY
[_Reaching for the gewgaw_]: All right! It's better than nothing!
[_She takes it, and starts to ascend_] Hold the ladder, mother! It
wiggles! [MRS. GILLIAM _obeys_.]
MRS. THORNBURY
[_She has ribboned both dolls, and sets that just finished beside its
companion on the chair_]: There! [_Rises_] I'm half dead, and there
_can't_ be any more presents! [_Starts up for her coat_] I'd give my
left hand for a cigarette!
MRS. GILLIAM
Not here!
MRS. THORNBURY
I don't know why not. We've had almost everything else.
DILLY
Mother's so _Mid-Victorian_! And ministers are finding they've got to
do _something_ to make church-going attractive. What do we get out of
it now? I've heard of preachers who go in for dances and movies, and
they draw crowds, too. Naturally! Who wouldn't go to church to get a
squint at Douglas Fairbanks? [_She has hung the star_] I'm through!
MRS. GILLIAM
Then come down.
DILLY
Believe me, I'm glad to get off this thing! [_She descends
unsteadily_] When I think I broke an engagement with the best
fox-trotter in New York to do a shimmy with a ladder----
[MR. BARNABY, _package-laden, enters L. He is the sexton,
and of the age, manner and appearance peculiar to sextons_] Oh, Mr.
Barnaby!
MRS. THORNBURY
[_Turns and is appalled at his burden_]: What have you got?
MR. BARNABY
Some more presents.
MRS. GILLIAM
Good Lord!
MR. BARNABY
[_Deposits his bundles on the steps L.C._]: Mrs. Tice brought
them. She and Mr. Jerry Goodkind. [MRS. GILLIAM _nudges_
DILLY] They're just coming in.
MRS. GILLIAM
[_Sotto voce_]: Dilly, powder your nose! [DILLY _takes her
bag from the communion rail, and obeys_] Mr. Barnaby, our star won't
light. Will you see if you can fix it? [MR. BARNABY'S _mind
is on_ MRS. TICE. _She is much too rich to open a door. He is
edging L._]
MRS. THORNBURY
And Mr. Barnaby----[_Voices off L._]
MR. BARNABY
One moment!
[_He opens the door L. Enter_ MRS. TICE _followed
by_ JERRY GOODKIND. MRS. TICE _has
just entered middle-age, and refuses to shut the door
behind her. Her wealth, which has given her an air of
great authority, has made it possible for her to look a
smartly-dressed young matron. The truth is that she is
clinging to youth in an ever-lessening hope of "keeping"
her husband. Beneath the "air of authority" is something
cowed, and worried, and unhappy. Just so, beneath the
smiling, careless surface of_ JERRY _lies iron.
He can be very ugly when he wishes, and he is always
sufficiently determined to get what he wants, though
he gets it generally by showing the urbane surface._
JERRY _would describe himself as a "kidder." He
is 35; sleek, well-groomed, and perfectly satisfied with
himself. His most engaging point is a perpetual smile._]
MRS. TICE
Hello, everybody! [_"Everybody" returns the greeting_] Who are those
people on the church steps? A lot of dirty foreigners blocking the
sidewalk!
MR. BARNABY
It's the grating, Mrs. Tice. The furnace room's underneath, and
they're trying to keep warm.
MRS. TICE
Well, let 'em try somewhere else! [_Recollection of unpleasant contact
causes her to brush her coat_] I don't mean to be unkind, but there
must be missions or something!
[MR. BARNABY _removes the coat, and then climbs to
attend to the star_]
MRS. THORNBURY
We didn't hope to see _you_ here, Mr. Goodkind.
MRS. TICE
I met him in front of Tiffany's!
JERRY
The most dangerous corner in New York!
MRS. TICE
And lured him here by mentioning that Clare Jewett was helping us.
DILLY
Somebody page Mr. Gilchrist!
MRS. GILLIAM
Dilly! What a way of saying that Clare is engaged to the assistant
rector!... Dilly's looking well today, isn't she, Mr. Goodkind? So
young, and----
JERRY
And fresh.
DILLY
Oh, boy!
MRS. TICE
_Do_ come and see what I've got for the girls of the Bible Class!
MRS. THORNBURY
Testaments?
MRS. TICE
That's just it; I _haven't_! Bibles are so bromidic! I want to give
them something they can _really use_! And it's so hard to think of
presents for those girls; they've got everything! [_Opening a small
parcel she has withheld from_ MR. BARNABY] Guess how I've
solved the problem!
MRS. THORNBURY
I can't!
MRS. GILLIAM
I haven't an idea!
DILLY
I'm dying to know!
MRS. TICE
[_Impressively. Displaying the gift_]: Sterling silver vanity cases!
DILLY
[_Taking it_]: How ducky!
MRS. THORNBURY
Charming!
MRS. GILLIAM
An inspiration!
DILLY
[_Showing it to_ JERRY]: All complete--lip-stick, powder and
some nice, red rouge.
JERRY
[_Cynically_]: To put on before you pray?
DILLY
Precisely. To put on--before we--_prey_!
MRS. THORNBURY
[_Gathering up her coat_]: Well, good people, this is where I leave
you!
MRS. GILLIAM
[_With the air of one bereft_]: Oh, Mrs. Thornbury!
MRS. THORNBURY
I've done my "one kind deed" today, and I've an engagement for dinner.
JERRY
Permit me. [_Helping her._] Some coat!
MRS. THORNBURY
Yes ... thanks.... See you all tomorrow at the Christmas Service!
Good-bye, everybody! And Mr. Goodkind! Miss _Jewett's_ wrapping things
in the choir room! [_Everybody laughs. She exits L._]
MR. BARNABY
I'll just try those lights. [_Exits L._]
MRS. GILLIAM
She has an engagement for dinner, but you notice she didn't say with
whom! I don't think they ought to allow divorced women in the church!
MRS. TICE
[_Virtuously_]: The church _won't_ marry them!
MRS. GILLIAM
_That's_ the trouble!
DILLY
[_Indicating_]: The church _will_ let 'em give stained glass windows!
MRS. GILLIAM
Where does she get all her money?
MRS. TICE
Billy settled for thirty-six thousand a year!
JERRY
[_With growing amusement_]: Think of getting thirty-six thousand a
year out of munitions!... Gee, what a lot of lives that coat must have
cost!
[_Everybody laughs, and, on the laugh, enter_ DR.
WADHAM. _He is_ not _the stage clergyman. On
the contrary, he is a very pleasant and plausible
person--plausible because he believes implicitly in
himself. He has passed sixty, and has a really kind heart.
But he has had no experience with life, and he has never
been uncomfortable._]
DILLY
[_Hearing the door closed, looks around. Surprised_]: Here's Dr.
Wadham!
MRS. GILLIAM
Why, Doctor!
MRS. TICE
We didn't know you were back.
JERRY
_I_ didn't know you'd been away, Doctor.
DR. WADHAM
[_Shakes hands_]: Ten days; attending a Conference on the Proper
Use of Eucharistic Candles. It's a subject on which I feel _rather_
strongly. [_Turns R._] It's pleasant to see you, Mrs. Tice. And Miss
Daffodil.
MRS. GILLIAM
Isn't Dilly looking _wonderful_?
DR. WADHAM
_Quite_ wonderful! [_Glancing at the tree_] And what a beautiful tree!
The star lights up, I suppose.
DILLY
Well, we have hopes!
DR. WADHAM
Don't let me interrupt. I've only dropped in to keep an appointment
with the wardens.
MRS. GILLIAM
We're all through, except for putting these gifts under the tree.
[_She busies herself with that task_] Miss Jewett will be in with hers
any minute. [JERRY, _who has been contemplating an excursion
to the choir room, returns from the door, and helps_ MRS.
GILLIAM] The star is _real_ imitation diamonds. A gift from Mrs.
Tice.
MRS. TICE
[_Joining_ DR. WADHAM _L.C._]: Speaking of gifts, Doctor----
DR. WADHAM
Yes, dear lady.
MRS. TICE
My husband wanted me to have a little talk with you about his check.
[_She pauses for encouragement, finding what she has been told to say
a trifle difficult_] You know, he promised five thousand dollars to
beautify the parlor of the Parish House.
DR. WADHAM
[_Foreseeing trouble_]: Oh, yes.
MRS. TICE
And since then--well, frankly, Doctor, John was very much upset about
last Sunday's sermon. Mr. Gilchrist preached from the text about the
rich man entering the Kingdom of Heaven.
DR. WADHAM
Always a trifle dangerous.
MRS. TICE
Yes, and last Sunday it seemed as if he were directing _all_ his
remarks at John. We're in the first pew, you know, and John says he
doesn't like to complain, but there's getting to be altogether too
much of this--Bolshevism. John says the preachers are more than half
to blame for the present social unrest. I heard the sermon, and I
agree with John that some of it was positively insulting!
DR. WADHAM
Mr. Gilchrist is young.
JERRY
Mr. Gilchrist is a nut!
MRS. TICE
Do you know what he said, Doctor? He said all this--"decking the
church"--was making an accomplice of God. He said we couldn't take
credit to ourselves for returning a small portion of our _ill-gotten
gains_!
MRS. GILLIAM
_Small portion!_ When I've just given away five hundred pounds of
coffee!
MRS. TICE
He said charity wasn't giving away what you didn't want!
MRS. GILLIAM
It was _good_ coffee, too! Our second best coffee!
MRS. TICE
Of course, what John objected to was the reference to rents--to
charging clerks and bookkeepers more than they could pay for "wretched
little flats." John says he doesn't come here to be told how to run
his business!
MRS. GILLIAM
Quite right! And I don't pay seven thousand dollars a year to hear my
husband's coffee roasted!
[_They all laugh--the more because of the previous
tension._ MRS. GILLIAM, _surprised at first, sees
the point, and joins in the laughter_.]
Well, you understand what I mean!
DR. WADHAM
We understand, Mrs. Gilliam.
MRS. GILLIAM
Personally, I'm very fond of Mr. Gilchrist. His father had stock in
our stores. But I _don't_ think he's a good influence. This used to
be a really _exclusive_ church. Now, whenever Mr. Gilchrist preaches,
there's such a crush of undesirable people in the galleries you can
hardly get to your pew. We don't have that trouble with Dr. Wadham!
[CLARE JEWETT _enters R., her arms full of
parcels_. CLARE _is 28. Smartly dressed, though in
a fashion that suggests thought rather than expenditure,
and pretty, in spite of a certain hardness. The next
sentence arrests her, and she stands in the doorway; not
eavesdropping, but not interrupting._]
MRS. TICE
Mr. Gilchrist was such a promising young man!
MRS. GILLIAM
So rich, and happy!
DILLY
[_Tantalising_ JERRY]: And in love!
DR. WADHAM
He's still rich, and in love, and, I think, he's still happy.
JERRY
I've told you; he's a nut!
MRS. GILLIAM
I wonder if that's it. Don't laugh! He wasn't like this before he went
overseas as chaplain. Is it possible he was _gassed_--or something?
CLARE
Here's another armful of presents.
DR. WADHAM
Oh, how do you do, Miss Jewett?
CLARE
I'm very well, thank you.
JERRY
[_Starting to her_]: Hello, Clare! This is a----
MRS. GILLIAM
[_Intercepting him C._]: Surprise! Ha! And you've been waiting for her
half an hour!
CLARE
[_To_ MRS. GILLIAM]: I'm afraid we'll have to get Mr.
Barnaby. There are so many packages.
DR. WADHAM
Can't I help?
CLARE
Will you, Doctor? And Mr. Hinkle's in there praying for someone to
consult about the Christmas music.
DR. WADHAM
I told Mr. Hinkle the choir'd better begin by singing, "Peace, Perfect
Peace, With the Loved Ones Far Away."
[DILLY _laughs and turns up L., chanting "My
Wife's Gone to the Country." Scandalized_, MRS.
GILLIAM _hushes her_.]
MRS. TICE
And, Doctor! About the Parish House ... shall I tell my husband you'll
speak to Mr. Gilchrist?
DR. WADHAM
Yes, I think you may even tell him that's why we're here today. [_He
exits R._]
MRS. GILLIAM
Dilly, _do_ hurry!
MRS. TICE
Can't I drive you home?
MRS. GILLIAM
Thank you so much! Good-bye, Miss Jewett. Good-bye, Mr. Goodkind. We
must arrange for you to come up to dinner as soon as the holidays are
over. [_He bows_] Dilly, say "good-bye" to Mr. Goodkind!
DILLY
Goodbye-ee!
[MR. BARNABY _re-enters L. The door closing
attracts_ MRS. GILLIAM]
MRS. GILLIAM
Oh, Mr. Barnaby, how about the lights?
MR. BARNABY
I think the trouble's outside.
MRS. GILLIAM
You'll be sure to fix it? [MR. BARNABY _nods_.]
MRS. TICE
And will you put us in the car? [MR. BARNABY _nods again, and
goes L._] I rather dread that mob at the door. [_She follows, groping
in her bag for a bill to give_ MR. BARNABY] Good-bye, Mr.
Goodkind ... and Miss Jewett, and, if I don't see you tomorrow, a
Merry, _Merry_ Christmas!
[_There is a chorus of repetitions of this wish, amid
which exeunt_ MRS. TICE, MRS. GILLIAM,
DILLY _and_ MR. BARNABY.]
CLARE
It's funny to find you in church.
JERRY
Why? My father's the senior warden.
CLARE
[_Laughs and takes up a parcel_]: Whatever else you inherit, Jerry,
it's not likely to be religion!
JERRY
Religion doesn't trouble the old man much--except Sundays. I came here
to see you.
CLARE
Why?
JERRY
You've been avoiding me.
CLARE
Nonsense! Come help me with these parcels.
JERRY
I want to talk to you.
CLARE
That's just it, Jerry. You always want to talk to me, and always to
say something I don't want to hear.
JERRY
Why not?
CLARE
[_Simply, but not very surely_]: I'm in love with someone else!
JERRY
You're _what_?
CLARE
[_Looking defiantly into the mocking face quite close to hers and,
this time, with conviction_]: I'm in love with someone else!
JERRY
You're in love with Clare Jewett!
CLARE
You're very rude. I'm _engaged_ to Mr. Gilchrist, and he loves me, and
believes in me, and your sense of decency and fair play ...
JERRY
Inherited from my father?
CLARE
... should keep you from proposing to a woman who's going to marry ...
JERRY
You're not going to marry Mr. Gilchrist. [_He lounges against the
ladder._] What's the use bluffing? We've known each other since
childhood. You know I'm not going to give up anything I want because
it belongs to somebody else. And I know you're not going to give up
what _you_ want--comfort and luxury--for a crazy man who wears his
collar hind-side before!
CLARE
Jerry!
JERRY
Now that's admitted, let's go on.
CLARE
Mr. Gilchrist isn't exactly poverty-stricken!
JERRY
No; he got quite a lot of money from his father. You like him and when
you said "yes," you thought you were getting somebody you liked, and
all the rest of it, too. But something's gone wrong with Gilchrist,
and you know it!
CLARE
Why do you say that?
JERRY
Because, if you didn't before, you heard this afternoon. I saw you
standing in the door. And I'm going to tell you a few things more!
CLARE
I don't want to listen!
JERRY
Maybe--but you will! Do you know that your young trouble-hunter has
given away nearly one-tenth of his capital in three months?
CLARE
No, and I don't believe it!
JERRY
All right; ask my father! The old man has his money in trust!
Gilchrist won't touch his income from Gilliam Groceries, because
they're profiteering, and he's preaching such anarchy that both
wardens are coming this afternoon to complain to Dr. Wadham! I don't
want you to throw yourself away on a raving bug!
CLARE
And your advice is----
JERRY
Marry me. I'm a nice fellow, too--and I can give you what you really
care about. You're over your ears in debt, without any chance of
paying up--or cutting down. And you are, shall we say, twenty-nine in
October? I know what it cost you when your father died, and you had to
come down a peg. You don't want to keep on--coming down, _do_ you?
CLARE
And so--you advise me to marry you?
JERRY
Yes.
CLARE
[_Looking at him squarely and significantly_]: Knowing all I _do_ know
about you?
JERRY
I don't see how _that_ concerns you.
CLARE
It proves you don't love me.
JERRY
I want you, and I'm offering marriage to get you.
CLARE
You haven't said one word of love.
JERRY
I've said: "What's the use bluffing?" I'm no movie hero--and no crazy
dreamer. I'm a little shop-worn, perhaps--maybe, a little soiled--but
I'm sane, and I'm solvent. You're good-looking, and smart, and a lady.
You'll help my standing and I'll help your credit. For the rest--we
needn't bother each other too much.... What do you say?
CLARE
I say it's--_revoltingly_--sordid!
JERRY
[_Looks at her an instant_]: All right! [_Takes out his watch,
looks at that, and crosses to L._] You think it's sordid at 3.45
on Christmas Eve. Well, keep your ears and your mind open, and
see how you feel in the morning. My telephone's six nine four two
Rhinelander--and this is the last time I shall ask you! [_Puts his
hand on the knob_].
CLARE
Wait! [_He turns back_] Whatever you believe of me, I love Mr.
Gilchrist!
JERRY
Rhinelander six nine four two.
CLARE
And, what's more, I'm going to marry him!
JERRY
Rhinelander six nine four two.
CLARE
Jerry, I think you're the most detestable person I've ever known in my
life!
JERRY
[_Laughing_]: Rhinelander six ... nine ... four ... two!
[_He exits L., leaving_ CLARE _humiliated and
fuming. She stands still a moment, and then starts to
exit R. At the tree, she throws down the parcels she is
still carrying, and, as she does so_, DR. WADHAM
_re-enters R._]
DR. WADHAM
Why ... Miss Jewett!
CLARE
I'm nervous!... I want to finish up and go home!
[_She exits R._ DR. WADHAM _looks after her;
then picks up the parcels_. JERRY'S _father_,
GEORGE GOODKIND, _enters L. He is about the
Doctor's age--sixty--but he has had vast experience with
life, and he enjoys comfort now because he has been very
uncomfortable._ GOODKIND _is much like any other
successful business man you might meet--and like--at
dinner. He is brisk and economical of time, but pleasant,
and, unless his interests are involved, extremely amiable.
He does what he conceives to be his duty by his family, his
community, and his God, and feels that all three should
appreciate it._]
DR. WADHAM
Ah ... Mr. Goodkind! [_Glances at his watch_] You're early!
GOODKIND
How do you do, Doctor? [_Puts down his hat_] Walked out of a meeting.
I don't like letting religion interfere with business, but I wanted to
get here before Benfield. It's about young Gilchrist.
DR. WADHAM
Shall we go into my study?
GOODKIND
Benfield's coming here, and I've only a few minutes. Did you know
Gilchrist proposes to preach a Christmas sermon about the strike?
DR. WADHAM
What strike?
GOODKIND
This garment strike. He announced his subject from the pulpit, and
Benfield's furious.
DR. WADHAM
Mr. Benfield isn't interested in clothing.
GOODKIND
No, but he's invested heavily in my West Virginia coal mines, and down
there we're on the verge of the biggest walk-out in our history. You
see what I mean?
DR. WADHAM
Yes.
GOODKIND
The labor problem's none of the church's business. Or any outsider's
business. It's a worrisome subject, and there's no good stirring it
up. That's what you want to tell Gilchrist!
DR. WADHAM
I have told him ... frequently.
GOODKIND
And what's the answer?
DR. WADHAM
He says every problem ought to be the church's business, and that,
until the church becomes a power in live issues, it isn't a power in
life!
GOODKIND
He won't listen to reason?
DR. WADHAM
No.
GOODKIND
Then he'll have to listen to something else. If he persists about this
Christmas sermon--[BARNABY _enters L._ GOODKIND _turns. Impatiently_]
What is it, Barnaby?
MR. BARNABY
There's a man out there wants to see Mr. Gilchrist.
GOODKIND
What kind of a man?
MR. BARNABY
[_Indifferently_]: A poor man. I think he's a Jew.
GOODKIND
Who ever heard of a poor Jew?
DR. WADHAM
Mr. Gilchrist isn't here.
MR. BARNABY
I told him that, but he won't go away. I wanted to ask had I better
send for the police?
DR. WADHAM
Oh, I wouldn't do that!
MR. BARNABY
Why don't he go over to the Synagogue instead of hanging around a
Christian Church? Mr. Gilchrist gave this fellow his overcoat. I
suppose he's come back for the gloves!
DR. WADHAM
Tell him I'll speak to Mr. Gilchrist. [MR. BARNABY _shakes his head
despairingly and exits_.]
GOODKIND
Well, there you are, and what I wanted to talk about privately is ...
what's got into the boy? Has he gone crazy?
DR. WADHAM
I've asked myself that. I've asked myself if what he saw in France----
GOODKIND
Exactly. A lot of young fellows go off the handle and start out to
reform the world, but this lad has run through twenty thousand dollars
in less than three months!
DR. WADHAM
In addition to his salary?
GOODKIND
Yes. I could understand if he'd spent the money on himself, but he
hasn't! He's given it away! [DR. WADHAM _shakes his head_] Gilchrist's
father was my first partner, and I got the boy in here, and I feel
responsible for him. As trustee, I can refuse to turn over another
penny of his principal, and, as senior warden, I can demand his
resignation from this church. But I want him to have every chance.
Tell him if he'll get a grip on himself, and reconsider tomorrow's
sermon----[_Enter_ BENFIELD _L._] Here's Benfield!
["CHARLIE" BENFIELD _is fifty, and a "rough diamond." He is self-made,
and proud of it, though nothing really good--nothing of education, or
refinement, or knowledge and appreciation of fine things--has gone
into the making. He is arrogant, domineering, used to having his own
way, and to sweeping aside obstacles. He comes in with his hat on his
head, and it is a minute later, when_ DR. WADHAM'S _glance makes him
aware of the fact, that he removes it._]
BENFIELD
Hello, George! Howd'y', Doctor! Am I late?
DR. WADHAM
[BENFIELD'S _very presence makes him nervous_]: We've been
waiting for you. Hadn't we better retire to my study if we're going to
discuss Mr. Gilchrist?
BENFIELD
We're not! We've been discussing long enough! All I got to say now is:
Gilchrist leaves this church or I do!
GOODKIND
Now wait a minute!
DR. WADHAM
Isn't that a little mandatory?
BENFIELD
I don't know what it is, but it goes! I've worked hard all my life,
and now this fellow gets up and tells me what I've worked for is
nothing, and that I'm nothing, and all my ideas is wrong!
DR. WADHAM
He didn't say that.
BENFIELD
Oh, yes, he did--last Sunday and every Sunday! I've got two million
dollars tied up in Black River mines, and I'm not paying to have the
socialist papers down there print that my own minister is in favor of
strikes!
GOODKIND
Wait a minute, Charlie! That's not the tone to take to Dr. Wadham! We
all feel that Gilchrist has gone too far, and we're agreed----
BENFIELD
Does he preach tomorrow?
GOODKIND
We're agreed that if he insists on preaching about the strike----
BENFIELD
He goes?
GOODKIND
He goes!
BENFIELD
All right. And if he don't insist?
GOODKIND
He stays.
BENFIELD
And I go! [_He gets his hat and returns._ DANIEL GILCHRIST
_enters L._] You can decide which of us is the most valu'ble to your
church! Because I tell you again--and straight--this church ain't big
enough for Gilchrist and me!
DANIEL
[_Smiling_]: A church that isn't big enough for two little men, Mr.
Benfield, must be somewhat crowded for God!
[BENFIELD _cannot trust himself to answer. He jams
his hat upon his head, and exits L._ GILCHRIST _is
33. He was a football hero at college, and shows it. He was
a gentleman before he went to college, and he has been one
ever since, and he shows that, too. What he doesn't show
is what one expects in a "reformer"--narrowness, hardness,
something forbidding. An ascetic, beyond doubt, self-denial
has only made him trim and fit. The goodness that shines
in his face is partly good humor. He has honest eyes,
with fire in them, and there is strength and zeal back of
that--strength and zeal that will leave their mark later.
As yet, his exaltation is chiefly in his smile. His great
gift is charm--and sympathy. At this moment, he wears no
overcoat, and is glowing from the cold. Still smiling, he
looks after_ BENFIELD.]
DR. WADHAM
[_Embarrassed_]: Mr. Benfield is a little--ah--a little----
DANIEL
Yes; a little.
[GOODKIND _crosses for his hat, and observes_ DANIEL, _who
is chafing his wrists_.]
GOODKIND
Pneumonia weather, Daniel! Where's your overcoat?
DANIEL
Outside.
GOODKIND
Oh, yes. There's a man out there, too, who says he won't go 'way until
he sees you. [_He joins_ DANIEL] Dan, you're an awfully
decent fellow, but I still think you made a mistake going into the
church. If you ever want to talk it over with me, I'd be glad to help
you--any time! You know that! Good-bye, Doctor! Good-bye, Dan, and a
Merry Christmas! [_He exits L._]
DR. WADHAM
Daniel, you're in trouble.
DANIEL
[_Smiling_]: Doctor, I'm used to it.
DR. WADHAM
This time it's serious. I've warned you often. I don't see how you can
have been so blind.
DANIEL
I haven't been blind.
DR. WADHAM
Then you don't care for your position in this church.
DANIEL
[_With feeling_]: There's only one thing I care for more.
DR. WADHAM
And that is?
DANIEL
To be worthy of it.
DR. WADHAM
When you're as old as I am, Daniel, you'll understand that being
honest doesn't necessarily mean being disagreeable.
DANIEL
Doesn't it mean--telling the truth?
DR. WADHAM
Do you know the truth, Daniel?
DANIEL
Yes; don't you? Doesn't every man--in his heart? And if we want to
keep it in our hearts, and never think about it or look it in the
face, shouldn't someone pry open the door and cry: "Behold"?... I
didn't tell them anything they didn't know, Doctor. I don't _know_
anything they don't know. I just reminded them----
DR. WADHAM
[_Exploding on the last word_]: That we were heathen!
DANIEL
That we were Christians, and every man our brother, and that we were
sitting, overdressed and overfed, in a Christian Church, while our
brother froze and starved--outside--in a Christian World!
DR. WADHAM
That isn't fair! These good people have given----
DANIEL
_Given_--what cost them nothing! Frumpery and trumpery and diamond
stars! That's how all of us give--what we don't need; what we don't
even want!... You're a good man, Doctor, and, honestly, what would you
say tomorrow if your wife told you she'd sold her rings, and given the
money to the poor?
DR. WADHAM
Why, I----
DANIEL
You'd say she was crazy!
DR. WADHAM
But there's no necessity----
DANIEL
Oh, yes, there is! There'll be people lying in the parks tonight. What
would Mrs. Tice say if I invited them to sleep in her pew?
DR. WADHAM
That there's no reason why she should share dirt and disease!
DANIEL
Exactly! We may _believe_ in the brotherhood of man, but we _know_
about germs! We're not sure what is truth, but there's one thing we
_are_ sure of, and _mean_ to be sure of, and that's our own comfort!
You know that, and I know it, and they know it--but we mustn't say it!
All right; in God's name, what _are_ we to say?
DR. WADHAM
[_Who has been nervously regarding this raving as confirming the
worst fears of_ MR. GOODKIND]: Precisely. And that brings
us to tomorrow's sermon. I understand you intend to talk about the
strike. [_Dan nods "Yes"_] And that's not a very pleasant subject for
Christmas. Wouldn't it be more fitting to preach from the text, "Glory
to God in the Highest"?
DANIEL
"And on earth, Peace, good will toward men"?
DR. WADHAM
[_Delighted_]: Yes! You might say, "There are many kinds of peace----"
DANIEL
But there aren't!
DR. WADHAM
There is physical peace--peace that came with the end of this cruel
war!
DANIEL
There _is_ no peace! There is only fear--and hate--and vanity--and
lust, and envy, and greed--of men and nations! There are only people
preying on one another, and a hungry horde at the very doors of your
church!... My text will be: "And Peter followed afar off."
DR. WADHAM
I don't understand.
DANIEL
[_Into his tone, hitherto indignantly human, comes something
mystic--something divine_]: We all follow--afar off.
DR. WADHAM
[_Alarmed; not at the words, but at that "something divine"_]: Daniel
... my dear fellow!
DANIEL
Don't worry. I'm quite sane. Only--I've been wondering about that for
a long time.
DR. WADHAM
Wondering?
DANIEL
What would happen if anybody really tried to live like Christ.
DR. WADHAM
[_Shaking his head_]: It can't be done.
DANIEL
Isn't it worth trying? Men risk their lives--every day--in experiments
far less worth while. We've had centuries of "fear, and hate, and
greed"--and where have they brought us? Why not try love?
DR. WADHAM
How can you make them try?
DANIEL
By showing that it would work.
DR. WADHAM
It _won't_ work, Daniel. It's a beautiful ideal, but it won't work.
Times have changed, and things are different. Life isn't as simple as
it was two thousand years ago. The trouble with you, Daniel, is that
you're not practical.
DANIEL
I wonder.
DR. WADHAM
And the great need of the church is practical men. We mustn't take the
Scriptures too literally. We must try to interpret their spirit. And,
above all, we must please our congregations, or we shan't have any.
And then what becomes of our influence? Better fall back on my text
for tomorrow, Daniel.
DANIEL
I can't.
DR. WADHAM
At least, you must promise not to discuss the strike.
DANIEL
I can't do that, Doctor.
DR. WADHAM
Or else let me take the pulpit.
DANIEL
I won't do that! [_A pause._]
DR. WADHAM
Very well! Preach your Christmas sermon, and afterward----
DANIEL
Yes?
DR. WADHAM
I think you may find a greater field of usefulness elsewhere. [_A long
pause. The men look at each other, and then_ DANIEL _turns
away to conceal his emotion. He goes up for his hat, and returns._]
I'm sorry, Daniel. I know you've been very happy in your work here. I
know how failure hurts. But you saw it coming, and you wouldn't turn
aside.
DANIEL
[_He looks up with flashing eyes_]: The man who turns away from his
vision--lies! [_Shakes hands_] It's all right, Doctor. [_He crosses
L._ CLARE JEWETT, _ready for the street, enters R._]
DR. WADHAM
[_Brightly_]: Well, Miss Jewett! [DANIEL _hears the name and
stops. He is consoled by her very presence_] What's happened to the
choir?
CLARE
Mr. Hinkle cut his finger. I've been applying first aid.
DR. WADHAM
Woman's traditional mission--to bind our wounds.
[_He turns to exit, and sees_ DANIEL. _He is struck
by the double significance of his remark, and the
timeliness of_ CLARE'S _arrival_.]
Well, I must be going! Step into my study in the morning, Daniel, and
we'll have a look at your sermon! [_He exits L. From here the lights
dim very slowly._]
CLARE
I hope I never see another doll! Got anything on your mind, Dan?
DANIEL
[_Quickly_]: What do you----
CLARE
I mean anything special to do?
DANIEL
Oh!--No.
CLARE
Take me home.
DANIEL
[_He beams_]: _I'm_ getting _my_ Christmas present early! [_Gets his
hat._]
CLARE
Where's your coat?
DANIEL
Outside. That is--I lent it to a friend. Oh, I've got
another--somewhere!
CLARE
But you can't go out without a coat. [_Looks at wrist watch_] Anyway,
I told the taxi man to come back at half past four. That's the worst
of not having a car. Well, we may as well sit down! [_He assists her,
but his mind is afar._] What's the matter with you, Dan?
DANIEL
Nothing important.
CLARE
There will be if you insist on going around without an overcoat!
[_Looking at him narrowly_] You're too generous. [_He is still afar._]
I say you're too generous! How are we going to be married if you go on
giving things away?
DANIEL
[_Laughs_]: Is generosity a fault in a husband?
CLARE
That depends. Is it true you've been giving away--well--large sums of
money?
DANIEL
Who told you that?
CLARE
A little bird. [_He laughs_] And that you've refused to take part of
your income?
DANIEL
Little bird tell you that?
CLARE
Yes.
DANIEL
Must have been a cuckoo!
CLARE
Is it true?
DANIEL
About the money? Yes.
CLARE
Why?
DANIEL
Well, there's the strike, and a good deal of unemployment, and I've
got so much. Why--_I've got you!_
CLARE
[_Rises_]: Let's not talk about it now. [_She turns L. Hesitates;
looks at her wrist watch; looks off L._] Yes; let's!--You're so
changed. I hardly know you. We don't seem to want the same things any
more.
DANIEL
What do _you_ want, Clare?
CLARE
I want to be happy.
DANIEL
That's exactly what I want!
CLARE
How can anybody be happy without money?
DANIEL
How can anybody be happy _with_ it? Anyway, do you think people are?
Happier than the people who just have enough?
CLARE
In our day and age there's nothing worse than poverty! There's nothing
more degrading than having to scrimp, and save, and do without, and
keep up appearances! I've tried it ... ever since my father died ...
and I know! I can't do it any longer, and I won't!
DANIEL
Clare!
CLARE
[_She turns away, and comes back somewhat calmer_]: I don't want to
quarrel with you, Dan. I just want you to be sensible.... I love
you, but I love the good things of life, too. I like to be warm and
comfortable.
DANIEL
You can be sure of that.
CLARE
But that's only the beginning. I want good clothes, and furs, and my
car, and money to spend when I like. I want my own house, and my own
servants, and a husband who amounts to something. I'm no different
from other women of my class.
DANIEL
I hoped you were.
CLARE
A year or two ago people thought you were going to be a Bishop. Today
you've made an enemy of every influential man in the church. All that
may be very noble, but I'm not noble, and I don't pretend to be. I
don't feel any call to sacrifice myself for others, and I don't think
you have any right to ask it!
DANIEL
I do ask it, Clare.
CLARE
You mean you're going on like this?
DANIEL
I mean I can't give you expensive clothes, and servants, and a big
house while all about us people are hungry.
CLARE
What do you propose to give me?
DANIEL
A chance to help.
CLARE
To help wash the dishes, I suppose, in a three-room flat in a side
street!
DANIEL
And to visit the sick, and befriend the friendless.
CLARE
A charming prospect!
DANIEL
It really is, Clare. You don't know how happy we can be with work, and
our modest plenty. There's so much to do--and they won't let me do it
here. We've got to get _near_ the people in trouble, and we can't with
a big house and all that. I don't think we shall come to a three-room
flat. [_He smiles_] We'll have five or six rooms, and our books, and
each other.
CLARE
I can't believe you're serious. You've always been a dreamer, but I
can't believe you're going through with this fantastic nonsense!
DANIEL
I've chosen a narrow path, dear, but I hoped it might be wide enough
for us both.
CLARE
It isn't. With your means and opportunities, you're offering me what
any bank clerk would give his wife. I thought you loved me, but you're
utterly selfish, and I think a little mad. You've a right to throw
away your own life, but you've no right to throw away mine. [_She
hands him his ring_] Our engagement is off. [_A pause. She starts for
the door, and then hesitates, looks at her wrist watch, waits for him
to call her back. When he doesn't, she returns._] Don't you think
you're making a terrible mistake?
DANIEL
[_Looks up from the ring. Simply_]: No. [CLARE _turns again,
this time quickly and with resolution, and exits L. The church
is quite dark, except for light streaming from the open door R._
DAN _looks at the ring, and puts it in his pocket. With his
back to the audience, he looks at the altar of his church. Suddenly,
from R., the organ is heard, playing "Hark the Herald Angels." He
crosses and closes the door. In the blackness, he hears a step._
THE POOR MAN _has come on through the open door L._] Who's
there?... Are you looking for someone?
POOR MAN
Yes.
DANIEL
I'm the assistant rector ... Mr. Gilchrist.
POOR MAN
I know you, Mr. Gilchrist.
DANIEL
Oh, yes; I remember. You're the man who was cold. Can I do anything
for you?
POOR MAN
I think you can.
DANIEL
Let's have it then.
POOR MAN
Perhaps I can help you, too.
DANIEL
In what way?
POOR MAN
In my way.
DANIEL
My poor man, I wish you could!
[_His despair impels him to confide in anyone_]: I was so sure of what
I wanted to do, and now I begin to wonder if it can be done!
POOR MAN
It has been done.
DANIEL
But in this day--in this practical world--can any man follow the
Master?
POOR MAN
Why not? Is this day different from any other? Was the world never
practical before? Is this the first time of conflict between flesh and
spirit? If it could be done then, why not now, and, if it was ever
worth the doing, why not now?
DANIEL
But how?
POOR MAN
We have been told how.
DANIEL
"Take no thought of the morrow.... Sell whatsoever thou hast, and give
to the poor.... Love thy neighbor as thyself.... Bless them that curse
you, do good to them that hate you." But if a man did those things
today people would think him mad!
POOR MAN
What does it matter?
DANIEL
He would lose everything!
POOR MAN
And gain everything!
DANIEL
What good can one man do?
POOR MAN
Why don't you try?
DANIEL
He tried, and they crucified Him!
POOR MAN
Did they? And if they did, what does that matter? Is a man dead whose
ideal lives? Ye crucified me, but I am with ye alway, even unto the
end of the world!
DANIEL
In God's name, who are you?
POOR MAN
I am a Jew!
[_As he speaks, slowly the tree and everything beneath
it is illuminated by the Star of Bethlehem. The light,
dim at first, grows stronger and stronger, its rays
revealing sanctuary and picking out the points of the
cross on the altar. But where the_ POOR MAN _stood is
nothing. There is no one there. The spirit--if spirit it
was--has disappeared. The man--if man it was--has gone._
DANIEL _gives a cry, and, as he does so, the light is
extinguished, and suddenly, to the music that has been
heard faintly through the door R. during this scene, the
full choir sings: "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." In black
darkness_
THE CURTAIN FALLS
_ACT II._
SCENE: GEORGE F. GOODKIND'S _Library. New York._
_Ten months later. The set has only two essentials--a wide,
curtained, glass door L., and an ordinary, heavy wooden
door down R. The first gives entrance to the music room,
which is indicated rather completely when the door is
open. The second, by way of a hall and a flight of stairs,
leads to the main entrance of the house. For the rest, the
library is a shallow room, very much like any other library
in the home of any other rich and well educated man. It
is a little richer and more luxurious than most, perhaps,
with--here and there--priceless things from palaces in
Venice or art collections in Rome. The obsession of
business is suggested by various utilities, transient and
otherwise--a row of law books, a small file, and a pile of
papers upon the substantial library table._
AT RISE: _It is a Saturday evening in November, 1919. The_
GOODKINDS _have been entertaining informally at dinner,
and, having finished the chief business of the occasion,
the company is now diverting itself in the music room. This
room is brilliantly illuminated; one sees the shadow of a
man leaning against the glass door._ DILLY GILLIAM, _at the
piano, is playing one of the syncopations popular at the
time. After a moment, a servant, with a card tray, enters
R., crosses and exits L. An instant later_, GOODKIND, _in
evening clothes, enters L. He has a card in his hand. The_
SERVANT _re-enters, re-crosses, and re-exits, stopping, en
route, to switch on the lights_. GOODKIND _looks at the
pile on the table, and turns the topmost paper face down_.
BENFIELD, _also in evening clothes, enters L._
BENFIELD
What the h----
GOODKIND
Shut the door.
[BENFIELD _does so. As he returns_, GOODKIND _gives him the
card_]
BENFIELD
[_Reading_]
"Labor conciliators."
[_Throws the card on the table_]
What the h----
GOODKIND
What are labor conciliators? Mostly thugs. When you've been director
in a coal mining company a little longer you'll know. We've got a
million dollars' worth of 'em handling this strike.
BENFIELD
Police duty?
GOODKIND
No; spies and agents provocateur. I hate the breed, but what are you
going to do about it? This fellow, Max Stedtman, got into the union
five or six years ago, and now he's one of the delegation they've sent
up to me.... Where's Jerry?
BENFIELD
I gave him the high sign.
GOODKIND
[_Offering cigars_]:
Smoke?
BENFIELD
[_Taking one_]:
Thanks.... Why didn't you go down to West Virginia?
GOODKIND
Had to look over that power plant in Canada.
BENFIELD
Oh, yes!
GOODKIND
Anyway, what do I know about coal mining?
BENFIELD
You're president of the company.
GOODKIND
Yes, but that means digging up money--not coal. I've never set foot in
West Virginia in my life; and I don't want to!
BENFIELD
Yes, but in a serious situation like this--
GOODKIND
I sent Jerry. Jerry has a dozen qualifications and no scruples. _And_
I sent Gilchrist.
BENFIELD
Who has scruples and no qualifications.
GOODKIND
Thus striking a balance. I mean that! Don't make any mistake about
Gilchrist. He's a valuable man. I didn't hire him because I was sorry
he got fired out of the church ... and only a little because I knew
his father. I hired him because he had theories, and I wanted to try
'em out!
BENFIELD
I'll say he's got theories!
GOODKIND
Yes, and the remarkable part of it is ... sometimes they work. They
worked up at that power plant. A year ago I wouldn't have taken it as
a gift. Gilchrist applied a little soft soap--
BENFIELD
Soft soap or gold dust?
GOODKIND
Well, both; but, damn it, Charlie, with all the increased wages and
decreased working hours, the plant's making money now for the first
time!
[_Enter_ JERRY L. _He is a little sullen--the result
of brandy and resentment. He, too, is in evening
clothes, and he closes the door behind him._]
GOODKIND
There's something _in_ Gilchrist!
JERRY
Mostly bugs!
GOODKIND
All right!
JERRY
I told you what he was doing at the mines. Now he wires you,
"Everything settled if you accede to rational conditions," and
up comes this delegation! What are the conditions? I'll tell you
now--surrender! You're crazy if you see these workmen! We've nothing
to discuss! They're our mines, and we'll run 'em as we like! If
this philanthropist of yours carries out instructions we've got 'em
whipped!... What was the idea of the high sign?
GOODKIND
[_As_ BENFIELD _picks up the card to answer_]:
Stedtman.
JERRY
Where?
GOODKIND
On the way up.
JERRY
Of course, we're leaving our guests flat!
BENFIELD
Your wife's in there!
JERRY
Clare resents our talking business at home.
GOODKIND
Resents--and you haven't been married a year! Palaver's a wife's
job! They oil the machinery while we shovel in coal! [_The_
SERVANT _re-enters R._]
SERVANT
Mr. Stedtman.
[_Enter_ MAX STEDTMAN. _He is a wiry little man,
with the face of a ferret and the furtiveness of a rat.
His nervousness does not indicate lack of self-confidence.
That quality has made Stedtman the man he is today. For the
rest, he is 40, and faintly Semitic. The_ SERVANT
_exits_.]
GOODKIND
How do, Stedtman? This is Mr. Benfield--one of our new directors.
[_They acknowledge the introduction_]
You know my son.
STEDTMAN
[_Nods_]: Saw him down to Black River.
[_They sit_--JERRY _down L._; BENFIELD _left of the table_;
GOODKIND _back of it_; STEDTMAN _R._]
GOODKIND
Well?
STEDTMAN
Well ... the committee's on its way.
GOODKIND
Who's in this delegation?
STEDTMAN
I'm chairman. We got a Pole called Umanski.
GOODKIND
[_Writes_]:
Umanski.
STEDTMAN
He's a radical. You can't do anything with him. But there's a fellow
named Joe Hennig....
GOODKIND
Who'll listen to reason?
STEDTMAN
I think so.
GOODKIND
Why?
STEDTMAN
He's got a pretty wife.
BENFIELD
What the he----
GOODKIND
What has that to do with it?
STEDTMAN
Lots. Pretty wives like pretty things. Hennig's in debt, and this
girl's on his neck every minute. She's a peach. You know her, Mr.
Jerry!
JERRY
No.
STEDTMAN
Pearl Hennig?
JERRY
No.
STEDTMAN
Oh! I thought I saw you talking to her onct. Anyhow, Gilchrist knows
her ... _well_.
BENFIELD
You mean....
STEDTMAN
I mean I wouldn't mention Gilchrist to Joe Hennig. [BENFIELD
whistles.]
GOODKIND
That's rot!
STEDTMAN
Anyhow, Hennig and me are two votes, and I figure Hennig's'll cost
about....
[_He looks at them narrowly._]
... fifteen thousand dollars.
[_All three show surprise._]
GOODKIND
I don't like bribery.
BENFIELD
Not when it isn't necessary.
GOODKIND
And Gilchrist wired yesterday: "Everything settled."
JERRY
On conditions.
STEDTMAN
Yeh--on _their_ conditions! Take it from me, this Gilchrist has
double-crossed you!
BENFIELD
I told you!
JERRY
He's a....
STEDTMAN
[_Goes right on, without heeding the simultaneous
interruption_]:
He's been at union meetings! _He_ got 'em to send this delegation, and
he tried to get 'em to turn down Hennig--our one best bet! _You take
it from me_--
GOODKIND
[_Quietly_]: I won't take it from you, Stedtman. [_Looks around_] Or
from anybody else. I know this man.
STEDTMAN
[_Cowed_]: Well, he's gone around talkin' compromise. Compromise ain't
no way to settle a strike. Givin' 'em confidence. Why, we got a couple
o' hundred representatives among the workmen tellin' 'em they got no
chance. We got special police clubbin' 'em every time they try to hold
a meeting. You wouldn't believe what we done down there in the way of
harmony!
GOODKIND
It's all been done before.
STEDTMAN
Never no completer! We're workin' the black list and, if a man opens
his mouth too wide at a meetin', somebody--he don't know who--tips the
gover'ment that he's a "red." We got 'em so they ain't sure of their
own brothers. We're postin' bills, in seven languages, saying: "Why
should workmen mistrust the company? This is the land of opportunity!
America is calling you--GO BACK TO WORK!" The boss has a scheme now
to start a riot between the Poles and the Wops! And you know the
end o' that! Troops, and scabs, and machine guns! What stopped it?
One gent that don't know nothin' about harmony, or co-operation, or
nothin'--except hangin' around after a skirt! If you got to descend to
bribery now, don't blame me! Blame Gilchrist!
BENFIELD
[_Rises; striking the table with his open hand_]: He's absolutely
right!
JERRY
[_Rises_]: Of course, he's right! Wha'd'ya expect of a man kicked out
of his church for Bolshevism?
BENFIELD
He ought to be brought back right now!
GOODKIND
He's coming back--
[_Servant enters R._]
Yes; what is it?
SERVANT
Two men to see Mr. Stedtman.
BENFIELD
Good!
GOODKIND
Bring them in.
[_Servant exits_]
STEDTMAN
Now look--don't try nothin' before Umanski! Just give us an excuse
to vote _right_, and then we'll go out, and get rid of him, and I'll
slip back with Hennig! Now then--[_His sharp ears have heard footsteps
off R. He strikes a pose_] It's very good of you gentlemen to see
us! I was goin' to meet my friends outside--[_The Servant ushers in_
UMANSKI _and_ JOE HENNIG, _and retires_]--but you
been so kind and agreeable--Hello, Joe!
JOE
Hello, Max!
UMANSKI
You said you be on sidewalk.
STEDTMAN
I just really got in myself. This is Mr. Goodkind. He's the President.
And a couple o' Directors. Well, now we can get down to business!
[_He sits._ UMANSKI _stares in amazement at his temerity_.
UMANSKI _is a giant Pole or Russian. Whatever flesh he ever
had has been starved off; he is all bone and brawn. In his face is
something strangely like poetry ... something born of silence and
suffering. He is in his best, which does not obliterate the picture of
the man in working clothes, his sleeves rolled up over his muscular
arms. Hennig is a stocky man of 45--a "grouser." His tone has none of
the courage, the dignity, the independence of_ UMANSKI'S; _he
blusters, emptily, an echo, without much to say, and one guesses he
might be made to bluster either way. There is a pause._]
GOODKIND
Smoke? [_He presents the humidor to_ HENNIG, _and_
STEDTMAN, _rising, reaches out and helps himself_.
GOODKIND _goes on to_ UMANSKI, _who doesn't unfold
his arms; doesn't even appear to see the box_. GOODKIND
_returns, and sets it lower right end of table_.]
JOE
[_Coming down R. of_ GOODKIND]: I guess you know all about
our grievances.
GOODKIND
I didn't know you had any.
JOE
You didn't know we had any----
BENFIELD
Ah, you fellows are never satisfied!
GOODKIND
You're getting plenty for what you do! What are you complaining about?
You've left good jobs to follow a lot of idle, discontented agitators!
We've got to win this fight on principle! The work's there! I pay what
I can get men for, and not a cent more! Take it or leave it!
JOE
We got to hang together to get anything!
GOODKIND
You're hanging, and what have you got?
[_The piano music in the next room, which ceased during the
scene with_ STEDTMAN, _is succeeded now by the low
tones of a violin_. UMANSKI _speaks, in a voice as
unemotional as its owner is stolid_.]
UMANSKI
I work twelve hours--every day ... thirty years ... got nothing.
BENFIELD
Why should you have? An untrained man--
JERRY
You don't even know English!
UMANSKI
How I gonna learn English--work twelve hours a day?
JERRY
Nobody asked you to take the job! Nobody asked you to come over here!
You're not an American!
UMANSKI
I was American.
JERRY
[_Sneers_]: When?
UMANSKI
When I fight ... in the war. [_A short pause._]
JERRY
[_Turning to_ GOODKIND]: We're not getting anywhere. We've
been over this a dozen times!
GOODKIND
What do you want?
UMANSKI
I wanna chance to learn! I wanna chance to live! I wanna see ... sun!
JERRY
Wha'd'ya mean--_son_? [_Together_]
GOODKIND
_Your_ son? [_Together_]
UMANSKI
God's sun. I never see him. Go to mines--him not up. Work in
mines--him not see. Go home--him gone. Got baby five years ago. Never
see _him_. Go to mines ... _him_, not up. Come back--_him_ asleep. Go
home one day--_him_ gone.
GOODKIND
Dead?
UMANSKI
My wife say: "Good! Not such many to feed!"
JERRY
When you worked you had enough to eat, didn't you?
UMANSKI
Yes. Work twelve hours a day and got enough to eat--so can work some
more. Always work. Get up--work--come back--sleep--get up--work. Never
got time to talk to wife--never got time to talk to nobody--never got
nowhere. Never save nothing.
JOE
[_Whining_]: It ain't fair! [JERRY _takes out his cigarette
case_.]
UMANSKI
That little box--what you pay for him? [_Jerry turns front, not
deigning to answer_] Ah, I know; gold. You pay more for him than I
got from swing pick thirty years. Me and six families--we live in one
house you own. We got one room upstairs; two down cellar. Sleep there.
Eat--cook--wash upstairs. See nothing but brick yard, and clothes hang
up to dry. Wife--she carry water from yard. Me--I carry potato peeling
out front. Him rot. If I don't like that, I quit--and starve!
JERRY
You want to live on Fifth Avenue!
BENFIELD
And _then_ you'd find something to kick about!
UMANSKI
If I don't like other mans will. Other mans take my job. I got
little girl twenty years old. Awful nice little girl. Got gold hair.
Got blue eyes. Her take sick. She sorry she's sick. She wanna go
church. She ask me: "Pop, buy me new dress for church. Buy me pretty
_pink_ dress." Where I get him? We hire doctor once, and he say:
"Air--sunshine--milk--eggs!" Where I get air--sunshine--milk--eggs?
Got no job. My little girl, she cough, and cough, and one night she
die. I tell you we got right to quit! We got right to hang together!
We got right to fight--to live--and, by God, we gonna fight--we gonna
live--_we gonna_--_BY GOD!_
[_The music stops. In the same short instant, there is a
patter of applause; more music--lively this time--and,
bursting into the room from L._, DILLY _runs into_
UMANSKI. She _has gold hair_; she _has blue eyes;
and what is more_, she _has a new dress. It is a "pretty
pink dress," too, and its owner wears jewels worth the
ransom of a dozen Umanskis._]
DILLY
[_As she enters_]: Now, look here, Jerry; you're not going to--Oh! I'm
sorry! [UMANSKI _looks at her; then covers his face, and,
with a great sob, drops into a chair R. C._ STEDTMAN _puts
his arm about the man's shoulders_. GOODKIND, _C., stares at
him sympathetically_.]
JERRY
You'll have to wait, Dilly.
GOODKIND
Ask the ladies to stay in the drawing room. We'll join them in a few
minutes.
DILLY
Yes.... Certainly.... I'm SO sorry!
[_She exits. A pause._ STEDTMAN, _one arm about_ UMANSKI,
_uses the other to signal_ GOODKIND _to go ahead_. GOODKIND
_ignores him_.]
GOODKIND
I think we'd better let this go for tonight.
UMANSKI
[_Rising_]: Oh, no! Me--I'm all right! Excuse!
GOODKIND
You're a little upset, and I have guests. Besides, Gilchrist will be
here in half an hour, and I want to talk to him before I say anything
definite. Suppose we all meet here tomorrow at noon.
JOE
[_Who has turned down angrily at mention of the name_]: Not Gilchrist!
GOODKIND
No; just we six ... and, maybe, one or two more of our directors.
STEDTMAN
All right!
UMANSKI
I wanna know what we gonna do--_tonight_!
GOODKIND
We're going to get together. You fellows have got the wrong idea.
We're not tyrants, or monsters. We're Christians, and we want to act
like Christians. Only ... we've got to live, too. We've got to have
the things we're used to, just as you have. But I think I can promise,
if the strike's called off, you men will be kept, and put back just
where you were.... Ring the bell, Jerry.
[JERRY _does so. A pause._]
BENFIELD
I guess you don't want me any more.
GOODKIND
No.
BENFIELD
Thanks.
[_Exits L. A pause._]
GOODKIND
[_To_ HENNIG. _Making conversation_]: You live in Black River?
JOE
Yes.
GOODKIND
Married?
JOE
You betcha! Prettiest girl in West Virginia! We only been married a
year. I got her in the five-and-ten-cent store.... I mean, that's
where she was working. She's at her sister's now ... up to Pittsburg.
Left the day before I was elected to come here. [_Proudly_] I sent her
a telegram!
GOODKIND
You don't say so! [_To_ JERRY] Anything the matter with that
bell?
JERRY
The man's busy, I suppose. I'll show them out.
GOODKIND
If you will.... Well, good-night!
[_He shakes hands with_ HENNIG, _and with_ STEDTMAN, _but,
when he comes to_ UMANSKI, _that giant is immobile. His
slow mind has been thinking out the earlier declaration._]
UMANSKI
What about this here twelve-hour day?
GOODKIND
We'll consider that after the strike's called off.
UMANSKI
And the twenty-four-hour shift?
GOODKIND
We'll consider that, too. Meanwhile--you go back just where you were!
UMANSKI
Then what good we gain by strike?
GOODKIND
Nothing's ever gained by quarreling. You'll find that out some day.
UMANSKI
Some day something be gain! Some day we gonna win! _This_--he don't go
on always! _You_ see!
JERRY
[_Insolently_]: Are you ready?
UMANSKI
[_As_ HENNIG _slips out R._, UMANSKI _looks at_ JERRY _with
contempt_.] _You_ see! [_Exits R._]
STEDTMAN
[_Significantly,--in a loud whisper_]: We'll be back later.
[_He exits R._]
JERRY
Swine!
[_He exits R._ GOODKIND, _obviously worried by the
interview, goes to the table, and rights the topmost paper.
Looks at it. Sits, and examines other papers. The_ SERVANT
_enters R._]
SERVANT
Did you ring, sir?
GOODKIND
Half an hour ago.
SERVANT
[_Indicating a box_]: I was signing for this. [GOODKIND,
_writing, doesn't look up_.] Can I do anything for you, sir?
GOODKIND
Yes.... Get me a drink.
[_The_ SERVANT _hesitates_. GOODKIND _takes key from pocket
and gives it to him. The_ SERVANT _unlocks a cellarette,
up R., takes out decanter and glasses, relocks the
cellarette, comes down L. of table, sets down the tray, and
returns the key._]
Thanks. [_The_ SERVANT _starts to exit L._] And, Riggs! [_The_ SERVANT
_stops up L. C. Enter_ CLARE _L._] If Mr. Stedtman comes back tonight
... with one of the other men ... I'll see them in here.
SERVANT
Very good, sir. [_To_ CLARE]: This package just came for you,
Madam. [_He gives her the box, and exits L. A pause._]
GOODKIND
Everybody gone?
CLARE
They're all down in the billiard room. We wanted to make up a couple
of tables at bridge, but, with the men in here ... as usual....
Where's Jerry?
GOODKIND
I don't know.
CLARE
I've seen him just ten minutes this week.
GOODKIND
He's only been back three hours.
CLARE
Well ... I wish he wouldn't break up my dinner parties.
GOODKIND
[_Pushes back papers_]: What have you got there?
CLARE
[_Looking at the box_]: Another ... substitute....
GOODKIND
Substitute, for what?
CLARE
[_As she opens it_]: For my husband's time ... and love ... and
companionship. [_Holds up a sable scarf_] Sables. [_She gives it to_
GOODKIND.]
GOODKIND
[_Looking at it with admiration_]: Mm! You don't seem much surprised.
CLARE
No.... Whenever Jerry's been away longer than usual, or done something
he's a little ashamed of, there's a box from Cartier or Revillon.
GOODKIND
Must have been a whopper this time!
CLARE
[_Seriously. Wondering_]: Yes. [_She takes the scarf._]
GOODKIND
Pretty generous husband ... if you ask _me_!
CLARE
Yes. [_She puts the scarf away._]
GOODKIND
Upon my word, I don't know what you women want!... A man works his
heart and soul out to get you things, and still you're not satisfied!
CLARE
Maybe we'd like a little "heart and soul."
GOODKIND
Heart and soul, and what a man trades 'em for! You want your husband
to succeed, and give all his attention to you! You want him to
have plenty of money, and plenty of time! You're willing to take
everything, but you're not willing to pay for it!
CLARE
I suppose everybody _must_ pay.
GOODKIND
Surest thing you know! You women are all alike. My poor wife--_she_
had everything, and I used to catch her crying in a corner. We never
seemed to understand each other ... after we got _this_. She was
a good wife, too, but the best of you never seem to want what you
have.... Sometimes I think we don't any of us really want what we
struggle so hard to get. Sometimes I think we're all wrong! [_He looks
at his watch, and rises._] Well, I guess I'll go downstairs!
CLARE
I wish you would.
GOODKIND
[_Goes to her_]: You're not crying? [_She nods and looks up_] My God!
Can you beat it?
CLARE
I'll be down in a minute.
GOODKIND
Tell Riggs--will you?--if any one comes, I'll be ... talking to Jerry.
[_He puts his hand on her shoulder_] And ... buck up! There are people
worse off than we are ... and it's a great life if you don't weaken!
[_He exits L._ CLARE _goes C. She puts the box,
with its contents, on the table, dries her eyes, and is
powdering her nose when_ DANIEL GILCHRIST _opens
the door R. He is in business clothes, and starts to retire
when he sees_ CLARE. _He would a little rather
avoid the interview._]
CLARE
Come in! I'm just powdering my nose. Does that offend your reverence?
DANIEL
On the contrary; I agree with the man who said, "Put your trust in
God, and keep your powder dry." [_They laugh._]
CLARE
When did you get in?
DANIEL
Half an hour ago.
CLARE
Had dinner?
DANIEL
On the train. I was starved. Thank goodness, they don't charge for
dinner by the mile!... Riggs said your father-in-law was in here.
CLARE
He'll be up in a moment ... won't you sit down? We haven't had five
minutes together since----
DANIEL
[_Hesitates about remaining._]
CLARE
I understand you're very happy in your new ... profession.
DANIEL
[_Sits._] Yes.
CLARE
You've got ... everything ... you want?
DANIEL
No, I haven't everything I want, but I'm happy.
CLARE
My father-in-law says if you settle this strike you're to be--but
that's a business secret. [_A pause_] I suppose I might tell you. [_A
pause_] He says it'll make you a big man in the company ... with a
tremendous salary.... You mustn't give it away!
DANIEL
The secret?
CLARE
The salary ... I suppose you've got over that.... So ... you don't
really seem to have lost anything by giving up your church.
DANIEL
No. Queer as it seems, sometimes I think I've gained ... in
opportunity.
CLARE
[_Chiefly to herself_]: Perhaps one _might_ have eaten one's cake and
had it, too.
DANIEL
Clare!
CLARE
You frightened me so that night, with the bugaboo of poverty. Don't
you think there might have been a compromise? Something half way?
DANIEL
Why open wounds that are beginning to heal?
CLARE
Yours seem quite healed.
DANIEL
And you have everything _you_ want?
CLARE
Yes.
DANIEL
You see ... I _was_ selfish ... to ask you to give up the things that
count so much with you for those that count with me.... Afterward,
when I knew you were to be married ... I was afraid for you ... and I
was wrong again. [_He rises_] You're happy ... and I'm honestly glad!
CLARE
Are you ... honestly ... happy?
DANIEL
Honestly.
CLARE
In just helping others?
DANIEL
In just helping others.
CLARE
I don't understand that.
DANIEL
You will ... some day.
[JERRY _enters R. He has added two or three brandies to
a generous allowance at dinner, and though not drunk, is
sullen and quarrelsome. The more so at finding_ DANIEL
_with_ CLARE].
JERRY
Hello, Gilchrist! In early, aren't you? [_Crosses._] I didn't mean to
interrupt a tête-à-tête!
CLARE
You're not interrupting.
JERRY
Where's father?
CLARE
I thought he was with you.
JERRY
I stopped for refreshments.
CLARE
I see you did.
JERRY
[_Laughs and turns to_ DANIEL]: We've been having a genial
evening with your delegation. That's why my wife's sore.
CLARE
I'm not "sore." I've been a little lonely.
JERRY
You don't look it!... I couldn't help going to Black River! I didn't
go for pleasure ... did I, Gilchrist?
DANIEL
No. There was work, and plenty of it. I was sorry you had to leave
when you did.
CLARE
Why, Jerry didn't leave much before you, did he?
JERRY
Just a few----
DANIEL
[_At the same time_]: Only twenty-four hours.... He wanted to get back
to you.
CLARE
But ... he's just _got_ back.... Where have you been, Jerry?
JERRY
Attending to business ... _of course_!
CLARE
Of course. [_She takes the scarf from the box on the table_] Good
night, Dan.
DANIEL
[_Cheerily_]: Good night! [_She starts to door L._].
JERRY
Oh ... you _got_ the furs!
CLARE
Yes ... thank you.
JERRY
Don't mention it!
CLARE
I'm very grateful ... but ...
JERRY
But what?
CLARE
Never mind. We'll talk about it some other time.
JERRY
We'll talk about it _now_!
DANIEL
I'll go. [_Starts R._].
JERRY
No, you won't! You made a crack about my leaving twenty-four hours
before you did! How do you know when I left? [_To_ CLARE] If
that's what you're sore about, for heaven's sake, drop it! I'm sorry
you've been alone, and I've sent you a handsome gift as an apology!
CLARE
I don't want it. [_She lays down the scarf._] I don't want to be paid
for shutting my eyes to any insulting thing you choose to do!
JERRY
And I don't propose to be made a blackguard before strangers!
CLARE
Dan isn't a stranger. And I don't want to make you a blackguard. Only
... since you've insisted on the truth.... Dan, when _did_ my husband
leave Black River?
DANIEL
I haven't seen him since Thursday.
JERRY
_There_ you have it! He hasn't _seen_ me since Thursday! Does it occur
to you that may have been because _he_ wasn't in Black River?
CLARE
No.
DANIEL
As a matter of fact, I wasn't.
JERRY
Oh!... Where were you?
DANIEL
At the mines.
CLARE
Is that the truth?
JERRY
Of course it's the truth! And, if it wasn't, I don't see that you've
any right to ask questions! I haven't done anything that wasn't in the
bargain! I haven't done anything every man doesn't do!
CLARE
Every man ... perhaps ... but one!
JERRY
Gilchrist! My God! Now we've got it! If you'd only married him! He's
good, because he says so! You ought to've been here a minute ago ...
when the company detective warned us not to mention Gilchrist to Joe
Hennig!
DANIEL
You mean----
JERRY
I mean Pearl Hennig!
DANIEL
Pearl Hennig? Why, _you_--you _know_ that's not true!
CLARE
_I_ know it's not true!
JERRY
Do you?
STEDTMAN
[_Off R._]: Say ... now ... listen ... you behave yourself!
JOE
[_Off R._]: Behave ... hell!
JERRY
[_Continuing above these voices_]: Ask Stedtman! Ask Hennig! And
before you make up your mind where _I_ was yesterday, ask where _he_
was----
[_Enter_ STEDTMAN _and_ HENNIG, _followed by the_ SERVANT.
_There is no dead cue for this entrance. They come
on_--STEDTMAN _trying to hold back_ HENNIG--_flinging open
the door as_ HENNIG _says_ "Hell!" HENNIG _confronts_
GILCHRIST.]
JOE
You--Gilchrist! Where've you got my wife?
DANIEL
I haven't got your wife, Hennig.
JOE
The hell you haven't!
DANIEL
You'd better go, Clare.
JERRY
I want her to stay. [_To the_ SERVANT] All right! [_The_
SERVANT _exits_] What's it all about, Stedtman?
STEDTMAN
You can search me! Umanski stuck to us all the way home. When he left,
I went in to have a little talk with Joe ... alone.... See? There was
a telegram, and he read it, and----
JOE
And came here to ask Gilchrist: Where's my wife?
DANIEL
She told me she was going to her sister's.
JOE
She ain't never been _near_ her sister, and you know it! I just got
this from her sister! [_Holds out wire._ JERRY _snatches
it_.] Read it!
JERRY
[_Reading_]: Pearl ain't here. We ain't seen her. Ain't she home?
DANIEL
Maybe she is.
JOE
You know she ain't! And what if she is ... now? I don't want your
leavings!
DANIEL
Why do you say that, Hennig?
JOE
Why do I say it? Ain't I seen you down town with her? Ain't I found
you with her when I came home unexpected? I knew you was stuck on her,
and I warned you to stay away ... didn't I?
DANIEL
You were mistaken.
JOE
Didn't I warn you?
DANIEL
Yes.
JOE
And you came again ... didn't you?
DANIEL
Yes.
JERRY
Every man but one!
DANIEL
I went first on your account ... because they told me you were in
debt ... and why. I "came again" because she asked me to. This
disappearance looks queer, I admit, but people _do_ get lost, or hurt,
and taken to hospitals, and aren't identified.
JOE
[_Half convinced_]: You think----
DANIEL