_Later the same night. Scene as Act II. Wine and glasses on table. The
curtains are drawn apart and the glare of the burning factory is seen.
Ephraim and John are in the window._
John. It's a sad sight, Barlow.
Ephraim. A sight I cannot bear to see. Shut it out. Shut it out. (_He
draws curtains._)
(_John lays a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, and Ephraim goes slowly
to chair by fireplace._)
I built it, Heppenstall, the first factory in these parts, fifteen
years ago, and there it's stood through all these years a monument of
enterprise, until I'd grown to love the very stone of it. They mocked
me when I put it up. They called it Barlow's Folly. But I knew. I knew
machinery had come to stay, and now new factories are springing up, and
building one to-day is not the same great thing it was. The glamour's
gone.
John. But you'll rebuild.
Ephraim. Guy will rebuild. I doubt if I shall care for what he does.
This night has broken me.
John. Come, come, now, don't give way like that. Ephraim. It's easy talk
for you. Your factory is sound. They've left it standing.
John. Aye. You were the scapegoats.
Ephraim. And all my business checked. Customers to disappoint.
Connections broken and----
John. They will come back to you.
Ephraim. And when? You can burn fast, but you rebuild slowly. And the
misery, Heppenstall, the misery of it.
John. You're thinking of your men?
Ephraim. Aye and their families.
John. A merciful man, Barlow.
Ephraim. Oh, let the leaders swing for it. It's their desert. But all
the others, just the heedless fools they've led astray. I'm sorry for
them in the bitter days to come. Guy's been too hard on them.
John. Yes. Guy's been hard. A wilful, headstrong man. But, hearkee,
Barlow, I've a plan that will smooth out the crookedness for you.
Ephraim. A plan?
John. You've been a rival of me, and your son has made the rivalry
no pleasant thing. But you and I are friends, and sooner than see you
suffer for your son, I'll run my place by night as well as day, and you
can put your people there by night and keep faith with your customers.
Ephraim (_rising_). Why, Heppenstall, that's generous.
John. There's something in the doctrine which that fighting-cock
of yours was preaching here last night. We manufacturers must cling
together, Barlow, only he wanted us to cling to his policy and, by your
leave, we'll cling to mine. It lets you satisfy your customers and
keep your weavers living, and it gives me the chance of rapping Mr. Guy
Barlow on the knuckles.
Ephraim (_timidly_). Do you think he'll let--?
John. Why, man alive, I hope that you are master here.
Ephraim. I shall take no pleasure in it now.
(_Enter Guy._)
That old factory was like another son to me.
Guy (_in high spirits_). And a damned rickety child it was.
Ephraim. Guy!
Guy (_good-humouredly_). You will get a new son, father A lusty son with
new machinery in the guts of him.
Ephraim. It will not be my old factory.
Guy. No, by the Lord, it won't. It will be efficient. Come, father, bear
up. We'll soon have that site covered up again with another son for you,
and there's no love like the love of a man for the child of his old age.
Ephraim. It won't be my child, Guy.
Guy. Then call it your grandson and dote upon him as a grandad should.
John. Is this a time for your jesting, Mr. Guy?
Guy. Maybe you think you've the laugh of me, Mr. Heppenstall, you with
your factory unburnt. Wait till my new building is complete with all the
last word in machinery, Look to your business then. I'll show you what a
factory should be.
Ephraim. Guy, you sound--almost--as if you are glad.
Guy. Why not? We're well insured.
Ephraim. And our customers, meantime?
Guy. Customers? Fire breaks all contracts.
Ephraim. Not mine. Not while there exists a way of carrying them out.
Guy. There is no way.
John. You'll pardon me, there is. I have offered your father the use of
my factory by night.
Guy. By night? We should lose money. There would be you to pay, and
weaving by candlelight is expensive.
Ephraim. Then let us lose money. I will carry out my contracts.
And--think of the weavers, Guy.
Guy. Let them starve.
Ephraim. I won't. I will hang the leaders. But the rest shall live.
Guy. They will live somehow. When we want them again, they will be
there. Meantime, they shall be punished.
Ephraim. I say they shall not, and by our good friend's help they need
not be.
Guy. Our good friend is to run his factory by day and night and take his
profit out of us. So much for friendship.
Ephraim. He must certainly be compensated for turning his place upside
down.
Guy. Why turn it upside down?
Ephraim. For the sake of the weavers whom I will not desert.
Guy. Did I burn their livelihood? No. They did. Let them suffer for it.
Ephraim. Guy, I have to remind you again that I am the head of the firm.
Guy. Very well, then. I break my connection with the firm.
Ephraim. Guy! Barlow & Son.
Guy. In future there will be two firms. The first is a charitable
institution which penalizes itself to find work for riotous weavers who
burn its factory. The second firm exists to make money.
Ephraim. You mustn't do that, Guy. Not the factory and the firm on one
black night. I can't stand both.
Guy. Then the firm goes on on my terms.
Ephraim. You mustn't leave me, Guy.
Guy. Very well. Barlow & Son decline your offer with thanks, Mr.
Heppenstall. (_He turns to table, pours wine and drinks._)
John. Barlow, do you mean to tell me----?
Ephraim. I give him best, Heppenstall. The lad is a stronger man than I
am. Henceforth I am a looker-on.
Guy (_seated at table_). Father, hand me those plans.
Ephraim. Plans, Guy?
Guy. The new factory, man. Do you think there's time to waste? (_He
finds pistol uncomfortable in his pocket, takes out and puts on table._)
Hah! That's finished with. I use a stronger weapon. This. (_Taking up
pen and bending over the plans which Ephraim has put before him._)
John. Come away, Barlow.
Ephraim. Yes. Yes. I think--(_he follows John haltingly to door._)
(_Exeunt Ephraim and John. Guy is busy with the plans. Enter Ruth
quickly. She closes door and leans against it, panting._)
Ruth. Guy!
Guy (_not looking up_). I am busy, Ruth.
Ruth. Guy, they have got my father. The soldiers, Guy. They've got my
father.
Guy (_still bending_). Yes, I can hear.
Ruth. My father!
Guy (_leaning back in chair_). Why not? Your father joined the rest.
Ruth. What will they do to him?
Guy. The law has a strong arm, Ruth.
Ruth. You mean----
Guy. Fools pay for their folly.
Ruth (_coming to him_). Guy, Guy, you will not let my father---- Oh----
Guy. Captain Lascelles has charge of all the prisoners till they are
handed over to the civil authorities. If you wish to communicate with
any of them, you must apply to him.
Ruth. But--Guy--they say the prisoners will be hanged.
Guy. It's more than likely.
Ruth. And my father----
Guy (_rising and standing with hack to fire_). Arson is a hanging
matter, Ruth. If your father chose to be a riotous incendiary, he must
pay the penalty.
Ruth (_standing by table_). Guy, don't you love me?
Guy. I have loved you, Ruth. I find you are the kind of woman men do
love.
Ruth. What do you mean?
Guy. There was a man to-night, Ruth, upon the moors.
Ruth. That? But you know.
Guy. I am waiting to know.
Ruth. I went to save your life from him. I heard him speak in here,
last night, when you and Mr. Heppenstall had gone in there, and he--he
threatened and----
Guy. Threatened! He! And if he did, do you imagine it a woman's job to
guard my life?
Ruth. He threatened and he meant to do.
Guy. And what had you to do with him?
Ruth. That is all over now.
Guy. It may be, but it has left its mark. Why did you go to him?
Ruth. I went because of what is past. Before I knew you, Guy, I knew him
and----
Guy. You went to beg my life. From him, your lover, Martin Kelsall!
Ruth. Yes. He was my lover once.
Guy. A fine strong lover for you, wife of mine. A brave, grand lover,
Ruth.
Ruth. Oh, you outfaced him in the quarry there. I saw the fear he had
for you.
Guy. The starveling rat.
Ruth. Yes, starveling and a coward when he met you face to face, you
with your strength and he an ill and starving man. Maybe it's easy for
a strong man to be brave, but, in the end, he won. His starveling brain
had made a plan. His----
Guy. Damn him. Do you defend him?
Ruth. No, Guy, I don't defend. I prove him dangerous. I prove that
when I went, I went with reason. I prove that if he fooled me there, he
fooled you here. The factory is burnt.
Guy. I am not talking of the factory just now. It's you I'm talking of.
You say you prove him dangerous. You do. You say he fooled you there, me
here. I am not certain that he did not fool us both at once, up there.
Ruth. Guy! But I told you.
Guy. What?
Ruth. You came in time.
Guy. In time for what? I want to know. It seems to me that you were
ready----
Ruth. Yes. I was ready, ready then and there to save your life.
Guy. At the price------?
Ruth. To save your life. You see, I loved you, Guy.
Guy. You loved me!
Ruth. Could I have proved it more?
Guy. There is a price which no man pays for life. You got his pistol
from him. How?
Ruth. By promising. And then you came. Guy, Guy, I loved you and I
wanted you to live.
Guy. And you?
Ruth. The quarry cliff is steep. I should have died.
Guy. Come here, Ruth. Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me that
again.
(_She comes to him._)
Ruth. I should have died. Death's easy, Guy.
Guy. Yes. I believe you now. (_From her._) By heaven, what a fool you
are.
Ruth. A loving fool, then, Guy.
Guy, A fool in love's the worst of fools. There, there it's over, Ruth.
But Kelsall? Yes, I've got Kelsall. Kelsall shall pay for this.
Ruth. They'll hang him, Guy?
Guy. Oh yes, they'll hang what's left.
Ruth. What's left?
Guy. When I have done with Martin Kelsall, the gallows will be welcome
to the rest.
Ruth. Guy, you----
Guy. Be careful, Ruth, or you will have me doubting you again.
Ruth. And there's my father, Guy. Is he to hang as well?
Guy. You come of a race of fools.
Ruth. I believe that you can save him, Guy. For my sake, won't you let
that old man live. My father, Guy? Your father's friend when they were
young together.
Guy. Come here, Ruth. I'll strike a bargain with you. (_He sits._)
Ruth. A bargain?
Guy. Yes, for your father's neck. We mustn't let our father hang, must
we, my pretty?
Ruth. If what you want is in my power to grant----
Guy. It's in your power. We'll have a straightening out of things, my
girl. They've got askew, and this night's work of yours is just the last
knot that you'll tie. You meddle, girl. You are come of weavers' stock
and weavers tend to meddling. You used to ask me questions, you worried
me about the factory. I stopped your asking, but I didn't change your
ways. You kept them, saved them up for this fine piece of meddling of
to-night. Now Ruth, it's this. You're my wife. You're Mrs Barlow,
not Ruth Butterworth. Your thoughts should be of my making, not your
father's. You will give up attending other people's business and attend
your own. Maybe if you had done that earlier we should have seen by now
some sign of what I'm looking for from you. You know what that is, lass.
I want an heir. Give me obedience, my Ruth, bear me a son, and this
night's work shall be forgotten.
Ruth. And, my father?
Guy. Your father shall escape the hangman, Ruth. What do you say to me?
Ruth. I--I will be your slave. (_She sinks at his feet in utter
surrender._)
Guy. You will be my wife. You won't ask questions. You will know that
what I do is good because I do it, and the sooner you bring me an heir
the better I shall be pleased with you.
Ruth. That is in God's hand, Guy.
Guy. Aye, but meddling women make bad mothers, Ruth.
Ruth. I will not meddle more. I'll be your--your wife.
(_Enter Captain Lascelles. Ruth struggles up._)
Captain. Oh, I--I beg your pardon--I----
Guy (_rising and pouring wine_). Come in, Captain, come in.
(_Captain closes door and advances._)
Captain, a loving cup. I apologize to the British Army and congratulate
you on the round-up. (_Holding glass out._)
Captain (_taking glass_). Why, thank you, Mr. Barlow. Here's your
health, sir. To your eyes, madam.
Guy (_drinking_). A very gallant piece of work, Captain.
(_They sit at table. Ruth is by fire, looking into it._)
Captain. Gallant? Nay, to my mind, sir, the policing of your valley
is no work for a man of Wellington's. It is a sorry soldier who takes
pleasure in the harrying of half-starved weavers.
Guy. All work well done is good work, Captain.
Captain. I do not share your pleasure in this night. And let me tell
you, sir, your father's with me in the view I take.
Guy. My father? Aye, old men resent a change, especially a change that
is forced on them. But for myself, why, good out of evil, captain. A
new factory, up to date in every detail with new machines to cut my wage
list down, and----
Captain. Do you think it's safe to build again?
Guy. Safe?
Captain. Yes. Will they let you?
Guy. The weavers? Man, they'll help.
Captain. Will they now?
Guy. They will come and ask to be allowed to help They'll sit round
watching stone go on to stone and thank their God for every story
raised.
Captain. That's not their mood to-night.
Guy. To-night they have a supper in them, They'll be starving then.
Ruth (_without turning_). Starving!
Captain. You are somewhat drastic, sir.
Guy. Well, sir, and are not you? In the army you've the noble
institution of flogging to keep your men to heel. We can't flog weavers.
It's against the law and so we have to keep them disciplined by other
means. And now, captain, about your prisoners.
Captain. Yes?
Guy. You would count them carefully? Suppose, I mean, that one were
missing. Would you take it very much to heart?
Captain. On the contrary, sir, I should be glad to see the whole lot go.
Guy. What, all of them? And go away with nothing to show for your
night's work?
Captain. I don't regard this as a creditable night, Mr. Barlow. Your
father was saying just now that the simplest way is to let them all
escape. They will have had the scare of their lives and are not likely
to forget the lesson.
Ruth (_turning to Guy_). Oh, if you would!
Guy (_ignoring her_). And what did you say?
The Northerners
Captain. I agreed with him.
Guy. You're a man of heart, Captain. Only you would be cashiered.
Captain. I would risk cashiering. And I may remind you, sir, that it is
not you, but your father, who's the magistrate.
Guy. I speak here for my father. We settled that between us half an hour
ago.
Captain. That's true. He sent me to you.
Guy. On your errand of--mercy?
Captain. Yes.
Guy (_rising_). Captain, oblige me by sending two of your prisoners
here. Butterworth and Kelsall. One of them may escape. He is my wife's
father.
Captain (_rising_). Your wife's father! I'm sorry, Mrs. Barlow. I had
so few men that I had to bind the prisoners, and your father must be
pinioned like the rest.
Guy. He acted like the rest. I will see to his bindings, Captain.
Captain. And as to the other question?
Guy. What other?
Captain. Letting them all escape.
Guy. There is no other question.
Captain. Your father, sir-----
Guy. Your duty, Captain Lascelles, is to hand your prisoners to the
authorities to be dealt with as the law provides. Meanwhile, send me the
men I want.
Captain. Very well.
(_Exit Captain Lascelles. Guy sits to his plans. After a moment Ruth
comes to him and touches his arm._)
Ruth. Guy!
Guy (_not looking up_). Don't go, Ruth. I want you here.
Ruth. I was not going, but----
Guy. Then oblige me by silence. These plans of mine must reach an
architect to-morrow. (_Takes knife from pocket and erases something on
plan._) And the new machinery must be ordered to-night.
Ruth. Guy, how soon will the new factory be built?
Guy (_still at work_). With luck, six months, if frost does not hold up
the masons.
Ruth. Six months. Six wintry months and in the mean time all the
weavers----
Guy. Those who are not hanged will be starving for their sins. I've told
you to keep quiet, Ruth.
Ruth. I have kept quiet, Guy, kept quiet while you made me love you like
your dog because you warmed my body well and fed me till my eyes
were closed with fat and all my will was lulled to sleep. I asked you
questions of the factory, and when you gave me poetry books to read,
I read them and forgot. You told me not to meddle and I have obeyed.
I gave up asking questions till in all the valley there was none more
ignorant than me. Than me, who----
Guy (_rising_). Than you who made a bargain with me here. Is this your
way of keeping it?
Ruth. Guy, let me ask you things. If it is the last time, for just this
once, be kind and tell me what you mean to do.
Guy. If it is the last time? Ruth, I keep my bargains. There is your
father's life at stake.
Ruth. Still, I must know. For the sake of our future, Guy, I must know
what you mean to do. I have been quiet, Guy. I will again. I might have
spoken now while Captain Lascelles spoke with you. I kept my silence
then, But tell me, Guy. It's you who are the master now? You, not your
father?
Guy. It is I.
Ruth. Lord of the Valley. Master of their lives. Guy, Guy, what will you
do with them?
Guy. Break them.
Ruth. Your father would be merciful.
Guy. Old men grow soft with age.
Ruth. Have you not broken them enough? Have they not starved for you
till desperation made them turn and do the deed they did to-night?
Guy. They did the deed. They turned. Therefore they are not broken,
Ruth. But, by the Lord, they're going to be. I'll have them meek. I'll
crush their spirits till their children's children rue the day their
fathers tried to thwart Guy Barlow.
Ruth. Yes. You can do it. You've the strength.
Guy. And the power. The dogs don't know their master yet.
Ruth. You can do it, Guy. But will you?
Guy. Will I?
Ruth. Hear me. A woman can't do much. A woman's handicapped. But what
she can do, Guy, all that I'll do----
Guy. Where is your bargain now?
Ruth. Yes. I made a bargain, didn't I? I bargained for my father's life.
My life for his.
Guy. Your--life?
Ruth. I said I'd be your slave. I said that I would give you sons. I
said I would not ask you questions.
Guy. And you have asked. You have asked and had your answers, For the
last time, Ruth.
Ruth. Yes. I shall ask no more. I shall----Guy. What?
(_Enter soldier with Matthew and Martin, whose wrists are bound behind
their backs._)
Soldier. Captain Lascelles' orders, sir.
Guy. Thank you. You may go.
(_Soldier salutes and goes. Ruth snatches knife from table and cuts
Matthew's bonds._)
Ruth. Father, you shall not be bound.
Guy (_watching cynically and firmly taking knife from her._) No. Our
father must not be in bonds, must he? But we will stop there, Ruth. It
is not Kelsall's turn just yet.
Matthew. I am not wishful to be treated differently from the rest.
Guy. No? And yet, do you know, Father-in-law Butterworth, you are
going to be. Martyrs are going cheap to-night. I have another use than
martyrdom for you. Matthew. Well, seemingly, I'm in your hands.
Guy. You are precisely in my hands, Father-in-law. What would you say
now if I let you go scot free for this?
Ruth (_half-incredulously_). Guy!
Matthew. I'd say the wench had talked to you.
Guy. Yes. She has talked. And then, Butterworth? After I had let you go?
Matthew. You want a promise from me? Well, I'll make you none until you
put away from you the abomination of machinery. I'll fight till I can
fight no more against your factories and ugliness. I'll fight for honest
craftsmanship and joy and pride in work until there's not a factory left
in the land, until we've made an end to all the makers and the users of
machines that take the weaver's handiwork away, until----
Ruth (_holding him back as he advances towards Guy_). Father! Guy has
the power of life or death. You could be hanged for what you've done
to-night.
Guy. And dead men burn no factories, Butterworth.
Matthew. Dead men can speak, speak from their graves back to the living,
Mr. Guy.
Guy. I have told you you are not to die. You're going to live, because I
will it so.
Matthew. And ask me to submit?
Guy. I don't remember asking. I know you will submit.
Matthew. Never.
Guy. The door is there. Get out of it and go. You'll not be stayed. Go
out and show yourself alive. Go out and prove to all the valley that Guy
Barlow has the power of life or death.
Matthew. So that's the use you have for me. To show myself a coward,
who----
Guy. To show yourself sent back to life by me.
Matthew. To life! The life you send me to is not worth having.
Guy. Perhaps that's why I send you back to it.
Matthew. No. I will----
Ruth. You will think of my mother.
Martin. Go, Butterworth. There is still work for you to do.
Matthew. To take my life from him!
Ruth. He will not taunt you with it, father.
Guy (_going impatiently to door and opening it_). Go, man, before I
change my mind, and thank your God it's you I choose to take my message
out--the message that Guy Barlow has the power to send men to the
gallows or the loom. For you, the loom. For him, the gallows. Go.
(_Ruth goes with Matthew to door._)
Ruth. Go, father.
Guy. Ruth, not you.
Ruth. No.
(_Gently pushing Matthew out. He goes. Guy closes door, then crosses to
window and throws curtains hack. Then turns bullyingly on Martin._)
Guy. Well, Martin Kelsall, do you like your handiwork? A pretty bonfire
for a winter's night. Look at it, Kelsall. Drink it in, for it is like
to be the last you'll see of earthly fire. They don't waste coal in
jail.
Martin. I have two things will keep me warm.
Guy. You will need them both before the hangman fits a noose about your
neck.
Martin. Two things, Guy Barlow. Hatred. Hatred of you and satisfaction
for to-night. We've made a clean sweep of your factory.
Guy. And I could almost find it in my heart to shake your dirty hand
for doing it. You've left the less to clear away before we can commence
rebuilding.
Martin. Rebuilding!
Guy. Why, did you think we'd sit down still and mourn? You will not live
to see it, Kelsall, but there will be a grand new factory in six months'
time. There'll be machines which eat up work as if they liked it.
Machines to do the work of many men. They're cunning things, those new
machines. They are not rebellious and a little child can guide them by
the hand. Kelsall, I think a factory should have a name. I shall call
mine the Phoenix Factory, because it's going to rise more glorious upon
the ashes you have sown.
Martin. Oh, you can kill me----
Guy. And I shall. I'm not like you. I'm not afraid to kill.
Martin. But my work will go on.
Guy. It will. And shall I tell you what that work of yours will be?
Death, Kelsall, Death and----
Martin. Yes, death for me, but for the others--those for whom I give my
life--there will be----
Guy. There will be the slower death which you escape by hanging. They
will thank you for it, won't they, Kelsall? While they starve, they'll
bless your name for burning down the factory that brought them bread.
Martin. It did not bring them bread enough for life.
Guy. Oh, some of them will live the winter through and come to work my
new looms in the spring. They'll be the strong men who survive, strong
weavers for my factory and, by the Lord, they will be meek. They will
have learnt the cost of yonder carnival. They----
Ruth. Stop, Guy.
Guy. What?
Ruth. I'm telling you to stop your blasphemy.
Guy. You asked me questions, Ruth. I thought you liked to listen to my
plans.
Ruth. Yes. I have asked you questions and I have my answer now.
Guy. True, but you interrupt me, Ruth. You interrupt my telling Mr.
Kelsall of the future which he will not be fortunate enough to see.
Ruth. You are baiting a helpless man, and----
Guy. If you prefer to go, the door is open. I've got a crow to pick with
Kelsall here.
Ruth. I do not prefer to go. I told you what a woman could, I'd do to
stop your infamies.
Guy (_sneering_). Women can do so much.
Ruth. Sometimes they can do much. Martin, I am glad that they have bound
your hands. Glad of it now, because----
Martin (_understanding_). No. No. Not that way, Ruth.
Ruth. Is there another?
Martin. Yes. Loose my hands and I----
Guy. I think not, Kelsall. So. You are Ruth and Martin to each other,
are you? And Ruth met Martin on the moors to-night. Ruth is my wife, and
Martin--Martin is---- (_He approaches with fist clenched to strike._)
Ruth (_in front of Martin, protecting him_). Martin is the man I should
have married if----
Guy (_restraining himself with the mastery of one who feels he can take
his time_). If you hadn't seen a better chance in me.
Martin. A better chance!
Ruth (_with a protective arm across his chest, watching Guy by fire,
over her shoulder_). Yes, Martin, for it was a chance.
Martin (_bitterly_) What have you made of it?
Ruth. Oh, in the end it comes to this. Could it have come to any other
thing?
Martin. We might have had this time together, Ruth. Some sort of
happiness, some little sort.
Ruth. I've had some happiness with him. The sort of happiness you have
when you're asleep. I loved him in my sleep, and in my dreams he seemed
a proper man to love. But you--you've had no happiness. You have been
lonely, Martin, lonely and cold and hungry. You should have had me
working with you all this while. I've been a traitor to you in my sleep.
But now--now I am awake and in the death to which they'll make you
go, you shall be stainless to the end. And in their hearts you'll live
again--the man who planned and did and died upon a gallows for the
people's sake. I will keep you pure for that, my Martin. I-----
Guy (_from fire_). I am being very patient, Ruth.
Ruth (_to Martin, not turning_). You see, I've had my happiness, so it
is right that I should pay. (_She turns to Guy._)
Guy. So? You have finished your farewell?
Ruth. Yes, Guy, it is all over now.
Guy (_suddenly ferocious_). Then come here, Ruth. Come here and scream.
Scream loudly, Ruth, or I shall cheat the hangman of his prey before
they drag me off.
Ruth (_between them_) You shall not touch him, Guy. A fettered man.
Guy. Shan't! Shall I not? Come to me, Ruth, I tell you. Come away. I'm
master here.
Ruth. Yes. You are master here where your father was. And if you die,
your father would be master still.
Guy. You are standing in my way.
Ruth. Your father's merciful and you--you shall not have your vengeance,
Guy. The hard, hard laws will take revenge and men will pay in blood and
tears and life for what they've done to-night. You shall not make the
women pay in agony. (_She takes pistol from table and points._) You
shall not starve the valley, Guy.
Guy. So. That is what you mean. The pistol's loaded, and your aim is
true. (_He comes round table._)
Ruth. I do not shake with hunger, Guy.
Guy. Not by my death nor by a hundred deaths of such as me will you
delay the spread of factories. They will go on--go on--I may not see it,
but---- (_He leaps._)
Ruth. You will not see it, Guy. (_She fires._) And I--I only see the
valley here and you who would be master of their lives.
Guy (_falling_). You--you've got me, Ruth.
Ruth (_dropping pistol_). The plans. The plans. (_She burns plans in
fire._)
Guy. Ruth!
Ruth. Yes. (_By him._) I have killed the man I loved. Lest he became the
beast I'd hate.
Martin. Ruth! For God's sake, loose my hands. Ruth (_looking at Guy_).
Good-bye, Martin. They will be coming for me now.
(_Captain Lascelles, Ephraim and John are seen in the doorway._)
CURTAIN.
ZACK
CHARACTERS.
Paul Munning.
Zachariah Munning.
Joe Wrigley.
James Abbott.
Thomas Mowatt
Harry Shoebridge
Mrs. Munning.
Virginia Cavender.
Martha Wrigley.
Sally Teale
Act I.--_Mrs. Munnings Parlour--an afternoon in early June_.
Act II.--_The Refreshment Room--morning a fortnight later_.
Act III.--_Mrs. Munnings Parlour--evening a month later._
In the Village of Little Hulton, Lancashire.
ACT I.
_The parlour in Mrs. Munning's house, the window of which looks out to
a bowling green. The room is furnished with chairs and sofa, upholstered
in horsehair. It is not quite shabby, but well used. The ornaments
crowded on the mantelpiece are Mid-Victorian survivals. There is a
bookshelf on the wall above the bureau. The wall-paper is flowered;
there is no gas, but lamp on table. In the window is a small model in
plaster of a wedding-cake. It should be quite small and unostentatious.
Men's coats are hung behind door. The light is of a spring afternoon._
_As the curtain rises, Mrs. Munning, who is fifty-five and hard
featured, is dusting the ornaments on the mantel. She is in her best
clothes, which are black, protected by a dirty apron. She looks at the
clock impatiently. It strikes four. She goes to window and looks out.
She mutters, "And time too" and goes to door. She opens it and speaks
through it._
*****
Mrs. Munning. Get a move on, now. Take your things off in there and come
along quick.
Sally (_off_). Yes, Mrs. Munning.
Mrs. Munning. Hurry up when I tell you. This is a nice time of day to
come.
Sally (_entering, a pretty, country girl of eighteen in print frock_).
You told me to come o' Thursday and Thursday _'_tis.
Mrs. Munning. It's been Thursday a long time.
Sally. You never said no hour. And mother said to me, she says----
Mrs. Munning. Never mind what she said. You take hold of that duster and
let me see you shape.
Sally. Yes, Mrs. Munning. (_She takes it and dusts at mantel._)
Mrs. Munning. Take care of those ornaments now, Sally.
Sally. Now don't you fret yourself. I'm not the breaking sort. You can
stop my wages for all I'm like to break.
Mrs. Munning. That's of course.
Sally. I was telling you. Mother, she says to me, you stay at home for
your dinner, she says, and that'll save Mrs. Munning a bit; and I stayed
willing because we'd trotters to-day and they're a dish that I've a
relish for.
Mrs. Munning. You could have gone home to your dinner.
Sally. And I couldn't. Not when I'd once begun with you. Meals and all,
you said, and a bargain's a bargain.
Mrs. Munning. Well, you should have come this morning. Leaving me all to
do.
Sally. Mother didn't know you were in a hurry.
Mrs. Munning. She ought to, then. I told her. I told her that when Miss
Cavender came this afternoon I wanted her to take you for a regular
maid. And don't you forget it neither, Sally, and go giving it away
you're not always here.
Sally. Suppose she asks me, Mrs. Munning?
Mrs. Munning. If you'll shape properly, she'll never think but what
you're regular. That's what I wanted you early for. To run you round and
show you the ways of the house.
Sally. Eh, but I don't need showing. Didn't I spring-clean for you last
year? I'll manage easy.
Mrs. Munning. You'll have to now. And don't come asking me where things
are kept, not when Miss Cavender can hear you ask.
Sally. Oh, don't you worry, Mrs. Munning. If any one gives it away to
Miss Cavender that I've not been here for years and years, it'll not be
me. Find my way about a strange house blindfold, I can. It's a natural
gift.
(_Paul Munning enters, a man of thirty, well-built, but with meanness
stamped upon an otherwise not unattractive face. He wears light clothes
with a grey bowler hat, and a buttonhole._)
Sally. Here's Mr. Paul. Good-afternoon, sir.
(_Paul grunts. Mrs. Munning turns._)
Paul. Has she come yet?
Mrs. Munning. Not yet. Have you----?
(_Paul indicates Sally._)
Um. This room will do now, Sally.
Sally. It will, though I says it that did it.
Mrs. Munning. Did you! I fancied I did it myself.
Sally. You did the rough, Mrs. Munning, but I always say it's the
finishing touch that counts with dusting and I reckon I did that.
Mrs. Munning. Well, now you can go to the kitchen and get the kettle on
for tea.
Sally. You'll be having your tea in here, won't you?
Mrs. Munning. Yes.
Sally. All right. You needn't raise a hand to it. I'll see to
everything.
(_Sally goes out._)
Mrs. Munning. She's a Miss Know-all, she is.
Paul. Won't she do?
Mrs. Munning. She'll have to do. Virginia's got to think we keep a maid,
and Sally's the only one who'd come at our price.
Paul (_sitting, gloomily_). It's great expense.
Mrs. Munning. No helping that. It's got to be. We can't have Virginia
going home and telling all her aunt's too poor to keep a servant. Did
you get that order?
Paul. No.
Mrs. Munning. Not Taylor's?
Paul. Wilson, of Norton Parva, is catering for Mrs. Taylor's wedding.
Mrs. Munning. You mean to say that Wilson got there first?
Paul. He hadn't been.
Mrs. Munning. Then how's he got the order?
Paul. He's going to get it. It's the same old tale. They'd heard our
weddings aren't as pleasant as they used to be. Knew we were nearest,
but they thought they'd give Wilson a chance. A good ten pounds gone
from us there.
Mrs. Munning. Well, I don't know.
Paul. And I don't know. If I knew I'd alter it. We're doing things no
different from what we always did, and yet it's got about our style's
gone off. It's not gone off.
Mrs. Munning. I'm sure it's not. What do they say? Do they tell you
anything?
Paul. Folks with a wedding in their house are too uplifted to say much.
They don't explain. What I make out is we're not so hearty as we used to
be.
Mrs. Munning. Hearty?
Paul. I've heard it said so. God knows what it means. I'm sure I try to
be hearty. It's prejudice, and nothing else.
Mrs. Munning. And word's passed round against us.
Paul. Seems so.
Mrs. Munning. It's very bad, Paul.
Paul. Bad? Don't I know it's bad? Couldn't be worse if it tried. We'll
have the shutters up altogether at this rate. The joinery business
doesn't keep us alive, and if the catering goes to ruin, we'll go along
with it. That's all.
Mrs. Munning. That's all, is it? Can't you up and fight it? You're
losing heart.
Paul. Enough to make me, too. You can fight a thing you see, but you
can't fight a prejudice. It's like hitting air. I tell you what, mother,
this is no time to have a guest, and a guest that calls for a servant.
Mrs. Munning. We can't afford to lose a chance.
Paul. Chance of what?
Mrs. Munning. There's money in that family, and when my sister writes
to me and says Virginia's not been well and needs the country air, I say
it's folly not to have her here, cost what it may.
Paul. There's money and they'll keep it to themselves.
Mrs. Munning. I'm not the one to go expecting much, but you never know,
and it _'_ud be no more than sisterly of Annie to remember me in her
will.
Paul. Oh well, she's coming and we're in for it. How long before we see
the back of her?
Mrs. Munning. The doctor told her mother it'll take a month to put her
right.
Paul. A month! A month! Good Lord! There's Sally at six shillings a week
wages, that's one pound four, and as much again for keep, is two pounds
eight, and Virginia an invalid _'_ll cost----
Mrs. Munning. She's not an invalid. She's just run down.
Paul. I know, and the Lord knows what it'll cost in fancy goods to wind
her up. You'll see no change from five pounds for this affair.
Mrs. Munning. I say it's worth it.
Paul. And I hope you're right.
Mrs. Munning. We'll see. You'd better change your clothes now, Paul.
Paul. Change? What for?
Mrs. Munning. When I married your father I married a joiner and I didn't
see cause to tell our Annie that he couldn't make ends meet till
I turned to and made a catering business for him as well, me being
apprenticed to the confectionery when he came courting me. I didn't tell
them and I haven't told to this day.
Paul. Yes, but if the girl's to stay a month she's bound to know it soon
or late.
Mrs. Munning. Then let her know it late. There's a lot in first
impressions.
Paul. Why, there's Mr. Abbott's wedding-party tomorrow.
Mrs. Munning. That's not to-day, is it? And we'll send her for a walk
to-morrow with Zack, out of the way.
Paul. About all he's fit for.
Mrs. Munning. You get your gay clothes changed,
Paul, or she'll ask questions at once. I've tea to see to now. (_Opening
door._) Sally!
Sally (_appearing with folded cloth_). Now it's all right, Mrs. Munning.
I'm finding all I want.
(_Paul goes out. Sally unfolds and lays on table a ragged white cloth._)
Mrs. Munning. What do you call that?
Sally. Tea-cloth, isn't it?
Mrs. Munning. Yes, for the kitchen. I've got one here for this room.
(_She opens drawer in table and takes out cloth._)
Sally (_watching_). Oh! Company cloth, like.
Mrs. Munning. Take the other back.
(_Sally is going._)
And here, Sally.
Sally (_turning_). Yes, Mrs. Munning.
Mrs. Munning (_going to window, getting the wedding-cake model_). Take
this with you and put it in the dresser drawer. Sally. The dresser
drawer!
Mrs. Munning. And mind you close it.
Sally. Well I---- Oh, I see. You're hiding it.
Mrs. Munning. We don't want Miss Cavender to be learning everything at
once.
Sally. A nod's as good as a wink to me. I'm mum.
(_Sally goes out, with model and cloth, nodding sagely. Mrs. Munning
carefully spreads the new cloth on table, putting the lamp on the
bureau. Sally re-enters with tray, which she places on the table with a
flourish. Mrs. Munning surveys the tray._)
Mrs. Munning. That'll not do, Sally.
Sally. What's wrong now?
Mrs. Munning. You mustn't bring in the loaf like that. I want cut bread
and butter.
Sally. Oh, well I call that making work, especially with a loaf like
that, all over nobbly bits of crust that's twice as sweet to eat for
tearing off.
Mrs. Munning. And that cress?
Sally (_bridling_). Well?
Mrs. Munning. It's for cress sandwiches.
Sally. Oh? I didn't see no ham nor nothink.
Mrs. Munning. Cress sandwiches, Sally.
Sally. How can they be sandwiches without there's meat?
Mrs. Munning. Can you cut them or must I do it myself?
Sally. Can I? Of course I can. But I call it a finicky way of doing
things. Making a nuisance of a simple job like eating cress. What are
fingers for?
Mrs. Munning. That will do, Sally. I want no grumbling.
(_Sally takes up loaf and cress._)
Sally. Grumbling? There never was nobody less of a grumbler than me. I
only speak my mind.
Mrs. Munning. Well, you get along and cut that bread up now. I want
things looking nice. Lord I If that isn't the fly now. Quick, Sally!
Put those plates down in yonder and get back to the door. (_She hustles
Sally out. By the door she takes off her apron, and pitches it through
door._) Hang that up sometime. Come along, now. Get to the front door.
(_Sally re-enters._)
Sally. It's all right, Mrs. Munning. Don't you get yourself into a tear.
There's another day to-morrow. (_Sally crosses to front door and exit._)
(_Mrs. Munning becomes very much the lady of leisure. She pats her hair,
takes a book from shelf and sits in arm-chair, reading. Sally re-enters
with Virginia, a well-dressed girl of the urban type with plenty of high
spirits and some little indication of recent illness._)
Sally. The young lady's here.
(_Sally remains, an interested spectator._)
Mrs. Munning (_marking her place in the book, and rising_). Well, so
this is Virginia. How you've grown!
Virginia. How are you, Aunt Elizabeth?
Mrs. Munning. I'm strong and hearty, child. It's you that's not.
Virginia. Oh, I'm all right now, aunt.
Mrs. Munning. You're pale.
Virginia. But not for long in this air of yours. There isn't much the
matter with me.
Mrs. Munning. Your mother wrote a different tale from that.
Virginia. Mother's a dear old fuss.
Mrs. Munning. How is she?
Virginia. She's splendid, thanks.
Mrs. Munning. Well, give Sally your coat and sit down. Virginia. Thanks.
(_Sally takes her coat, then stands examining it._)
Mrs. Munning. That's right. And now, Virginia----
Virginia. Jenny, please, aunt.
Mrs. Munning. Jenny!
Virginia. Virginia's no name to live with.
Mrs. Munning. Well, as you like. Why don't you sit?
Virginia. I didn't pay the flyman.
Mrs. Munning. As if we'd let you! It'll be a pleasure to Paul to see to
that. You'll remember Paul?
Virginia. Very vaguely. As a tiny boy.
Mrs. Munning. He's a big man now. He'll be helping the flyman up
with your boxes, only we don't hear them because this house is so
extraordinarily well-built you can't hear sounds in it at all. It's a
perfect refuge of peace. Just what you want to cure your nerves with
quiet and----
(_Several loud bumps are heard above. Mrs. Munning looks disconcerted._)
Virginia (_quickly_). I'm afraid my box is very heavy. Mrs. Munning
(_recovering_). Oh, Paul won't mind. He's wonderfully strong. Will you
have tea now or would you rather go to your room first? Sally shall show
you. Virginia (_rising_). Thank you.
Mrs. Munning (_speaking at Sally_). Our guest room is directly over
here.
(_Virginia nods and goes out._)
Sally. That's your room, Mrs. Munning.
Mrs. Munning. You keep that to yourself.
(_Sally nods, and goes out after Virginia. Mrs. Munning fusses a moment
at the tea tablet then suddenly thinking, goes to the window and opens
it._)
(_Calling softly_). Zack! Zack! Zack!
(_Paul enters. He has changed to a brown suit of country cut._)
Paul. What do you want Zack for? (_He speaks at her back._)
Mrs. Munning (_turning violently_). Eh? Oh, it's you.
Paul. Yes. What's to do?
Mrs. Munning. I've had so much on hand with that Sally turning up so
late that it slipped my mind about Zack.
Paul. What about Zack?
Mrs. Munning. I've forgotten to warn him.
Paul. Warn?
Mrs. Munning. About the catering, and Sally and so on. If we don't make
it as plain to him as Monday's dinner he'll give us away in the inside
of two minutes. You know what Zack is.
Paul. I'd leave him alone. He's safer out of the way than in it.
Mrs. Munning. That'll not do. He'll chose the best wrong time for
turning up. Trust Zack for doing something awkward.
Paul (_going l._). I'll have a look round.
Mrs. Munning. As like as not the wastrel's sleeping somewhere.
Paul. Or reading in a book.
Mrs. Munning. I'll give him read.
(_Enter Sally_).
You've been a fine time showing Miss Cavender her room. (_Exit Paul._)
Sally. I've been helping her undo her box, Mrs. Munning.
Mrs. Munning. Trust you for prying, I suppose. Sally. I didn't look
before she asked me. But when I did, I saw some sights. The ironing
she'll make. Frills! They're the width of my hand and more.
Mrs. Munning (_angrily_). Will you go into the kitchen and get those
sandwiches cut?
Sally. I'm going. (_She gets to door, then turns._) But I'll tell you
this much, Mrs. Munning, that there'll be a row of eyes on washing day
a-watching me hang Miss Cavender's underlinen on the line. This village
hasn't seen such sights before.
Mrs. Munning. You mind your own business in there and don't waste time.
I'll ring for tea. (_She pushes Sally out, then goes to window._) Can't
you find him, Paul? Paul. Not yet. (_He is outside window._)
Mrs. Munning. Best leave it, then. If he's asleep he may sleep on till
after tea and then we'll tell him quietly. Paul. What! Zack sleep while
there's eating going on? Mrs. Munning. We'll have to chance it, Paul. I
want you here when she comes down wherever Zack may be. You didn't see
her upstairs?
Paul. No. Dodged her.
Mrs. Munning. That's right.
(_Paul comes from window and enters by door. Mrs. Munning closes window,
and then arranges table again, fussily._)
Paul (_grumbling_). Tea in here.
Mrs. Munning. Why, of course.
(_Paul sits sulkily in arm-chair, legs outstretched, hands in pocket._)
Paul. It's a sight more comfortable in the kitchen. This is a foul upset
of all our ways.
Mrs. Munning. Wait till you see Virginia.
Paul. I don't need seeing her. I carried up her traps and that's enough
to tell me all I want to know.
Mrs. Munning. A girl must have clothes, Paul.
Paul. I'd rather carry them than pay for them, that's true. A
dressed-up, peeked and pampered town girl with a head full of fancies
and----
Mrs. Munning. I'm sure she isn't peeked.
Paul. Oh? Isn't she ill, or was her mother lying?
Mrs. Munning. She's been ill and she's getting better now.
Paul. That's worse. She'll eat us out of house and home Convalescents
always eat like elephants.
Mrs. Munning. I wish you'd think ahead.
Paul. I do. To the grocer's bills she'll make.
Mrs. Munning. Well, you think to something a bit more pleasant that'll
bring a smile to your face. You've a sour look on you sometimes.
Paul. Enough to make me sour, too.
Mrs. Munning. I've told you why she's here. It's not because I love her,
nor her mother neither, but there's money at that end of the family and
I'm a believer in keeping on the sweet side of rich relations and giving
Providence a friendly lead.
Paul. I can look pleasant all right when I'm being photographed with a
wedding-group, but looking pleasant for a month on end! It'll take some
doing, I give you my word.
(_Virginia enters in a light spring frock. Paul rises._)
Mrs. Munning. This is Paul, Jenny.
Virginia. I'm very glad to see you, Cousin Paul. It's a long time since
we met.
Paul (_not ungraciously_). I don't remember meeting you at all.
Mrs. Munning (_up to bureau, from which she gets a large old-fashioned
portrait album_). Don't you? I'll show you when you met. Sit down,
Jenny.
Virginia (_sitting_). Thanks.
Mrs. Munning (_sitting by her with the album. Paul stands behind_). I've
got you both in this album. Taken together.
Paul. Oh?
(_Mrs. Munning finds the photograph._)
Virginia. Oh yes. Mother has one of that at home.
Mrs. Munning. It was taken at your house. Look at it, Paul. Weren't you
a loving pair?
Paul. Is that me?
Mrs. Munning. That's you.
Virginia. Don't you look funny?
Paul. You a baby and me a little lad. No wonder I'd forgotten it.
Mrs. Munning. You've both come on a bit since then. Ring the bell for
tea, Paul.
(_Paul looks surprised, then rings._)
Virginia (_turning over leaves_). Is this Paul, too?
Mrs. Munning. Yes. Paul at five. (_Turning_). And there he is at ten,
and there at twelve and----
Virginia. Yes. But haven't I another cousin, Aunt Elizabeth?
Mrs. Munning. Yes. Yes, but----
Paul. He makes a bad photograph.
Virginia. Some people do. But they are often all the better in the
flesh. Will he be in to tea?
Mrs. Munning. Well----
Virginia. Isn't he at home?
(_Sally enters with tea, sandwiches, etc._)
Paul. Oh yes. But we're very busy in the joiner's shop just now.
(_Sally stops short and looks at him._)
Mrs. Munning. Come along, Sally.
Virginia. Oh, dear! But of course I'm glad to know your business does
so well. I mean I suppose it does if my cousin is too busy to come in to
tea.
Mrs. Munning. We'll send for him. Sally, tell Mr. Zachary to come.
Sally. Mr. Zachary?
Mrs. Munning. Yes.
Sally. Do you mean Zack?
Mrs Munning. Tell Mr. Zachary tea's ready and his cousin's come.
Sally. But I don't know where he is. He's such a one for getting into
holes and corners and----
Paul. You can find him, can't you?
Sally. I can try. And I'll start with his bed, and all. It's ten to one
he's lying on it.
Mrs. Munning. Sally, he's----
Sally. Are you finding him or am I? Because if it's me, I'll look in the
likeliest place first.
(_Exit Sally._)
Mrs. Munning. You mustn't expect town courtesy from our country
servants, Jenny. May I give you sugar? Virginia. One lump, please.
Mrs. Munning. And cream?
Virginia. Thanks.
Mrs. Munning. Paul, Jenny's cup.
(_Paul hands it clumsily. While they are occupied the door opens,
and Zack enters. He is younger than Paul, but neglect makes him look
middle-aged. He wears spectacles and a beard and is dressed shabbily
with a carpenter's apron on. Under his left arm is the wedding-cake
model._)
Zack. I knew that was the smell of tea-time, but what are we having it
in here for?
Mrs. Munning. Zack, don't you see your cousin?
(_Mrs. Munning pours tea, etc. Virginia rises._)
Zack. Why, if I'd not forgotten all about her. I am a careless chap.
Do you know, Miss Virginia, I forgot to come in to dinner one day last
week.
Paul. That doesn't often happen.
Zack. It _'_ud better not, neither. Gives you a nasty sinking feel
towards tea-time to go without your dinner. Well, how are you, Miss
Virginia? I'm pleased to meet you.
(_Till now Virginia has stood slightly embarrassed and amused. He comes
forward now, and Virginia puts out her hand._)
Mrs. Munning. You'll wash your hand before you touch Jenny's.
Zack. Maybe I ought. I'm not so frequent at the soap as I might be.
Virginia. I think we'll shake hands as you are.
Zack. Will you? That's hearty.
(_They shake hands. Virginia sits, Zack is about to._)
But----- Oh, Lord!
Virginia. What is it?
Zack (_fingering his coat_). I'm not dressed up for a parlour tea. I----
Eh?
(_Paul is taking the model from under Zack's arm._)
Oh, yes. Do you know where I found that?
Mrs. Munning. Put it down.
Zack (_up to window with it_). I'll put it in its place. But do you know
where I found it?
Mrs. Munning. Never mind, Zack. It doesn't matter. (_To Jenny._) It's
only a little window ornament, Jenny.
Zack (_imperviously_). I found that on the kitchen dresser. Picked it up
as I came through.
(_Sally enters. Mrs. Munning's feelings get too much for her. She rises
to meet Sally. Paul sees and distracts Virginia's attention._)
Paul. Will you have more bread and butter, Jenny? Virginia. Thank you,
Paul.
Sally. I can't find---- (_Seeing Zack._) Oh, there you are!
Mrs. Munning (_to Sally_). I told you to put that model in the dresser
drawer.
Sally. And you told me to cut sandwiches and bread and I've one pair of
hands and not a hundred. I left it atop till I'd a minute to spare, and
if it's not where I left it some one's moved it. It didn't walk.
(_She crosses speaking and exit. Mrs. Munning returns speechlessly to
her seat._)
Zack. Well, I'll change my coat and chance it.
(_He changes to a slightly less old coat which hangs behind the door._)
Parlour ways is parlour ways.
Virginia. I do hope you're not going to make a stranger of me, Aunt
Elizabeth.
Zack. And that's no use in here. (_Taking off the apron,_) Paul. You'll
have to make allowances for Zack, Jenny. Virginia. Is he a little----?
Paul. We don't let it go beyond the family, of course. Virginia. I hope
I'm one of you.
Paul. He was born lazy. That's what's the matter. Zack (_returning to
table, sitting and eating. Zack can talk and eat at once_). I've done
a job of work to-day and chance it. Mended that pig-stye at Ballbrook
farm.
Paul. Did you? I daresay there was all of ten minutes' work in that.
Zack. Took me a couple of hour.
Mrs. Munning. Then I hoped you charged according. Zack. I charged a
shilling.
Mrs. Munning. For a couple of hour! It's worth half a crown.
Zack. I charged what I thought fair.
Mrs. Munning. What you----! Oh well, it's done now.
Where's the shilling?
Zack (_feeling_). Oh, it's in my other coat. (_He is about to rise._)
Paul. All right. All right. That'll do later.
Zack. But I can see I've done wrong thing again. It's like this, Miss
Virginia, there's some folk born to do right. They can't do the wrong
thing if they tried. Like mother and Paul. I'm different. It's just the
other way with me. I can't do right.
Mrs. Munning. You never spoke a truer word.
Zack. Same time, you know, I have my use. Oh yes, I've got a use.
Mrs. Munning. I haven't noticed it.
Zack. I'll tell you then. Suppose a thing goes wrong.
They do sometimes. Very well. It couldn't be Paul and it couldn't be
you, because you're born the other way. It's always me. You don't need
to look round for some one to put the blame on. You know it's me. And
that's a sort of use now, isn't it?
Virginia. Is it?
Zack. Think of the time it saves. I'm always handy to be cussed at. Like
a cat, you know. Some folks keep a cat or a dog, and when their feelings
get too much to hold, they kick the cat. Well, I'm the cat in this
house. (_He speaks entirely without bitterness. It is all accepted
fact._)
Paul. You sleep like one, but a cat's more use than you. You don't catch
mice.
Zack. I eat more, too. And that's a thing I've tried to master and I
can't. You'd be surprised the way I've tried to fight my appetite.
Mrs. Munning. It's news to me.
Zack. I own it didn't show. It beat me every time Eating agrees with
me. That's where it is. I'm a natural-born eater and I can't go against
nature.
Mrs. Munning. You needn't talk about it.
Zack. No. But it's like my other ways. It can't be hid. I'm eating now
in the parlour as hearty as if it were in the kitchen. And that's not
right, is it?
Virginia. I don't know.
Zack. Parlour's for eating like you didn't mean it, and only played with
food to pass the time. I wish I could pretend with food. But the habit's
got too strong a hold on me for that. I'll never be a gentleman.
Mrs. Munning. That'll do, Zack. Talking about yourself with your mouth
full. Jenny's heard quite enough.
Paul. What would you like to do after tea, Jenny?
Virginia. Anything you like. I must just write to mother first to tell
her I got here all right.
Mrs. Munning. Of course.
Virginia. What time does the post go?
Mrs. Munning. Six o'clock.
Virginia. I'd better write at once. Then I shall be quite at your
disposal, cousin.
Paul. I thought you and mother might go out. The country's looking quite
like spring.
Zack. I've noticed the celandine's in bud.
Mrs. Munning. Are you too tired for a walk, Jenny?
Virginia. Not at all.
Mrs. Munning. Then Paul shall take you. Youth with youth.
Paul. I'm rather busy at the works.
Zack. Works! And busy!
Paul (_silencing him_). Yes, busy. So if you'll excuse me now------
Virginia. Of course.
Zack. Well! that's a oner.
Paul. I'll just clear off my work as quickly as I can.
(_Exit Paul._)
Zack. That'll not take long. Busy!
Mrs. Munning. Paul's busy if you're not. Hadn't you better go and help
him?
Zack. There's no wurk in to help him at. We've never been so slack.
Mrs. Munning. It's there if you'll go and look for it, and stop making
an exhibition of your laziness to your cousin.
Zack. I haven't finished my tea.
Mrs. Munning. Every one else has. It's not our fault you came in late.
Will you write your letter here, Jenny? (_Indicates bureau._)
Virginia. I have notepaper upstairs, aunt.
Mrs. Munning. And you don't use it in this house. We can run to a sheet
of notepaper, I should hope. Oh, I was thinking---- (_She opens the
portrait album._)
Virginia. Yes?
Mrs. Munning. No, there's a better one than that. I'll get it for you. I
thought you might like to send your mother a photograph of Paul.
Virginia. I'm sure she'll like to have it, aunt.
Mrs. Munning. Yes. I'll run upstairs and get it you. I've one up there
that's better than any of these.
(_Exit Mrs. Munning._)
Zack. There's queer things happening here to-day, Miss Virginia.
Virginia. Are there? Why do you call me Miss Virginia?
Zack. You're not a married woman, are you?
Virginia. Of course not. But I don't call you Mr. Zachary.
Zack. Nor nobody else neither. Mr. Zachary! I'd not know who you meant.
Virginia. Why don't you call me Jenny, like the others do?
Zack. I'm not same as the others, you see.
Virginia. You're my cousin just as much as Paul is.
Zack. I suppose that's true. There's funny things in nature, too. By
gum, there are. To think of the likes of me being own cousin to the
likes of you.
Virginia. So you'll call me Jenny.
Zack. I'd _like_ to, if you think it's quite respectful.
Virginia. Bother respect. I'm Jenny and you're Zack, and that's settled.
Zack. Well, I never thought--eh, but we're getting on champion, Jenny.
I'm still a bit worried in my mind, though.
Virginia. Not about my name?
Zack. Oh no. Settled's settled. It's, well--this for a start. (_He takes
up the model._) What did mother want to hide it away for?
Virginia. What is it, Zack?
Zack (_holding it towards her_). You can see what it is.
Virginia. A wedding cake?
Zack. Aye, but you wouldn't thank me for a slice of this. It's plaster.
How are folks to know we are caterers unless they can see that in the
window? It's like keeping a pub and putting your sign away.
Virginia. But I thought you were joiners.
Zack. We crack to be because joinery was father's trade. But it's
mother's trade we mostly live by. She's a masterpiece at cooking, only
the business isn't thriving. Wedding spreads are the best part of it.
Folk are a bit slow at getting wed, some road.
Virginia. I don't think aunt wanted me to know about this, Zack.
Zack. She's no cause to hide it, then. Father was a bit like me, not
much inclined to work, and I reckon I'm proud of my mother for working
for two. But things aren't what they were. Folks won't spend like
they used to. They buy furniture instead of feasting so much. And our
weddings have a bad name, too. I don't know how it is. I'm sure Paul
tries.
Virginia. And do you go to them?
Zack. Not now, with things so bad. I used to go until my clothes
wore out--well, they weren't mine at all properly speaking. They were
father's when he was alive and then I had them, but I'm hard on clothes
somehow. I'm a great expense all ways there are, with being a big eater
and all. And when my dress coat gave out at the seams and got that shiny
you could see your face in it, mother wouldn't buy me another, and so
I don't go now. It's been a sorrow to me, too. I used to take a lot of
pleasure in seeing others enjoy themselves. But I wasn't any use, not
real use, like Paul. I couldn't boss things like he does. I just was
there and tried to tell the old maids that their day would come. But I
couldn't even do my fair share of waiting because of a weakness that I
have.
Virginia. A weakness! Zack, it isn't----
Zack. Oh, no. Not that. I'm a teetotaller, Jenny. I get that worked
up with the hearty feeling of it that I break the plates. My hand's
unsteady. (_Takes plates from table._) See! That's steady enough? Yes,
but get me waiting at a table full of wedding guests and it seems I've
got to break the plates to show my pleasure. And it's not wilful. It's
not indeed. It's just anxiety to do things right that makes me do them
wrong. Mother's quite right. I'm not a bit of good, but I do miss the
outings all the same.
Virginia. Poor Zack. I really must get to my letter now, and I think
I'll go upstairs after all.
Zack. I'm not driving you away?
Virginia. Of course you're not.
(_Mrs. Munning enters r._)
Mrs. Munning. I'm sorry I've been so long, Jenny, I couldn't lay my
hands on the one I wanted. There it is. (_Giving photograph._)
Virginia. Oh! It's very good of him.
Mrs. Munning. I think your mother will be glad to see it. .
Virginia. Yes. (_She isn't interested, and puts the photograph on the
table._) I was just going upstairs to write. It will be quieter in my
room.
Mrs. Munning. Has Zack been talking to you?
Zack. I did a bit.
Mrs. Munning. Oh, then I'm not surprised you want some quiet for a
change.
Virginia. I thought I'd not be interrupted there. I won't be long.
(_Going._)
Mrs. Munning. You're forgetting the photograph.
Virginia. I'm sorry, aunt. I was thinking of the other things I had to
say to mother. (_She glances at Zack and goes out._)
Mrs. Munning (_reflectively, looking after her_). I'd give something to
know what she's saying about our Paul in that letter. (_She turns._) Why
isn't the table cleared? Couldn't you stir yourself to ring the bell for
Sally?
Zack. I didn't know I ought. A servant girl's a novelty to me.
Mrs. Munning. You didn't let that out to Jenny?
Zack. Let what out?
Mrs. Munning. Why, that Sally isn't always here.
Zack. I don't remember that we mentioned her at all. Aren't we to let
that out?
Mrs. Munning. Of course we're not, you moon-struck natural! What do you
think she's here for?
Zack. Well, I dunno. Unless she's here to do the work that Jenny makes.
Mrs. Munning. Work I I'd do all Jenny makes with one hand tied behind
me. Sally's here for show, but I'll watch she does some work as well.
And I've a word to say to her about that model there. And you as well.
Zack. Yes, mother.
Mrs. Munning. I'll see her first. You can wait. Your time's worth
nothing and I'm paying her for hers. Now don't you dare to stir from
here till I come back.
Zack. No, mother.
(_Exit Mrs. Munning. Zack stands stock-still for a minute, then his eye
catches the last piece of bread and butter. Tempted, he falls and gets
it. Then tiptoes to a chair, takes one large bite out of the slice, gets
sleepy, half raises the slice for another bite, lets his hand drop
and settles as if to sleep. A knock at the door. Zack half-hearst but
decides not to move. The knock repeated. This time he does not hear at
all. Martha Wrigley opens the door, and puts a timid head round it. She
enters shyly, half child, half woman of eighteent slovenly and down at
heel. She carries a dress suit over her arm. She sees Zack and stops._)
Martha. Oh! Zack!
Zack. Eh? (_He rouses slowly, not as if from sleep, but from sloth._)
Who's there?
Martha. It's Martha Wrigley. And if you please I knocked, and knocked,
and nobody came and so----
Zack (_stirring lazily in his chair_). Just when I had a moment for a
bit of rest.
Martha. I'm sorry, Zack. I am sorry. Only I had to make somebody hear,
Zack (_noticing the bread in his hand, and finishing it_). It needn't
have been me. I can't tell you anything.
Martha (_matter of fact, without malice_). No. I know you're nobody
here. But you can tell them that are somebody.
Zack. Tell 'em what?
Martha. Oh, Zack, we're in such trouble at home.
Zack (_sitting up straight with ready sympathy_). What's to do, Martha?
Martha. I don't know what Mrs. Munning will say. It's my father, Zack.
Zack. What's he done?
Martha. He's fallen down and broke his arm and he won't be able to wait
at the wedding to-morrow.
Zack. Joe Wrigley's broke his arm! Well, there's carelessness for you.
Martha. Yes. Please, he knows it's careless of him and he'll lose
the half-a-crown he gets from you for waiting, and we did need that
half-crown so bad.
Zack (_rising_). You'd better see my mother, Martha.
Martha. Couldn't you tell her, Zack. She'll be so mad.
Zack (_shaking head_). It's not a job I'm pining for.
Martha. We've done our best. I've brought my father's suit for some one
else to wear. And Zack---- (_She puts the clothes on a chair._)
Zack. Nay. This is getting too much for me. I'll fetch my mother.
Martha. Yes, but Zack----
Zack. Well?
Martha. We did so hope that Mrs. Munning would see her way to paying
father all the same.
Zack. Paying him when he's not there!
Martha. He would be if he could. We do need his money that bad.
Zack. You'll not get owt from mother. Nothing for nothing's her way of
seeing things.
Martha. There's been so little lately with you having so few parties.
Zack. You'll get none out of mother. That's a certain fact.
Martha (_blubbering_). And I was so looking forward to a bite of meat.
We've not seen butcher's meat at our house not for a month and more.
Zack (_really hit where he's soft_). My word, that's bad, Martha.
Martha. And me anæmic too, and never can get food enough to satisfy me.
Zack. Not food enough!
Martha. I'm always hungry, and this did look a chance of getting my
teeth into a bit of meat at last.
Zack. Well, I dunno. That's very bad. (_He looks at coat behind door._)
Martha. You try it and you'd know.
Zack. Look here, Martha. This'll get me into trouble, but I got a
shilling to-day at Ballbrook Farm, and if it's any use to you well--dang
it, mother can't kill me. Here it is--(_He goes to coat, gets shilling,
and brings it to her._)
(_She takes it and expresses thanks, mostly by crying on his shoulder._)
Martha. Oh, Mr. Zack. You are the good one.
Zack. There! There! There I There! There! Don't take on so.
Martha. Oh!
(_She kisses him. Mrs. Munning enters._)
Mrs. Munning (_grimly sarcastic_). Oh? When's the wedding, Zack?
Zack (_humouring her_). Oh, I dunno. In about a month, eh, Martha?
Mrs. Munning. You're fool enough for anything.
Zack (_seriously_). I was only consoling her a bit.
Mrs. Munning. If you want to console young women with your arm around
their waists, my lad, you'll not be long for this house. You've enough
bad habits now without beginning new ones.
Zack. Martha was a bit upset, mother.
Mrs. Munning. It _'_ud be a bad case that called for you to set it
right. What is it, Martha?
Martha. Father's broke his arm and he can't wait tomorrow, and I've
brought his clothes, and, please Mrs. Munning, he's very sorry.
Mrs. Munning. Sorry! Here! Paul! Paul! (_Opens door._) Paul!
Paul (_off_). Coming.
Mrs. Munning. And you consoled her for a thing like that! Console! I'd
use a stick and----
(_Paul enters._)
Paul. What is it, mother?
Mrs. Munning. A nice upset, that's what it is. Joe Wrigley's gone and
broke his arm when we wanted him tomorrow.
Paul (_savagely_). The meddling fool! Disturbing our arrangements. How
dare he break his arm?
Martha. Please, Mr. Paul, he didn't mean to. It was an accident.
Paul. Accident! Didn't he know it was Mr. Abbott's wedding to-morrow?
Martha. Yes, sir.
Paul. Then he shouldn't have an accident. You go and tell your father
he's engaged by me to-morrow and if he doesn't come and do his job,
he'll get no more work from us. You understand?
Martha. But father can't wait to-morrow with a broken arm.
Paul. That's not my fault. I didn't break it. You tell him what I said.
Martha (_turning, then_). Then you won't be paying him his money, sir?
Paul. What?
Mrs. Munning. Paying him! I like your impudence
Zack. You'd better go home, Martha.
Martha. Yes, Mr. Zack (_Crying._) But I am so----
Zack (_his arm about her_). There! There! (_Leading her towards door._)
Mrs. Munning. Keep your hands off the girl, Zack.
Zack. I was only consoling her a bit. (_He opens r. door._)
Mrs. Munning. Then don't do it.
Zack. No, mother.
(_Exit Martha._)
Mrs. Munning. This is' a pretty how do you do.
Paul. Confound Joe Wrigley. I don't know where to get another man at
such short notice.
Mrs. Munning. And labour scarce, and all. Can you manage it with a man
short?
(_Zack shyly approaches the clothes on chair and, not lifting them,
fingers them lovingly._)
Paul. No, I can't.
Mrs. Munning. You'll have to get somebody to-night, then. That's all.
Paul. If I can. It's going to take some doing to find a steady man.
Zack. Paul!
Paul. What's the matter?
Zack. Could I go?
Paul. You!
Zack. I'd dearly love to.
Paul. You're no use.
Zack. I know my hands are awkward, but I will try, Paul. I'll try so
hard not to break anything.
Mrs. Munning. He'd be better than nothing, Paul.
Paul. I doubt it.
Zack. Give me another chance.
Paul. I gave you chance on chance. You're more trouble than you're
worth.
Zack. I'm not worth anything, and nobody knows it more than me. But
couldn't I go this once, just to fill up? I'll be so careful, Paul.
Mrs. Munning. It's saving a man's wages for the day.
Paul. It's not a saving if he makes a mess of things. Our catering's
got bad name enough without our making bad to worse. He's got no proper
clothes.
Zack. I'll wear Joe Wrigley's willing. (_He goes to them._)
Paul. Joe Wrigley's a big man.
Zack. Can I try them, Paul? Do let me try them on.
Paul. Well, you can try, and show us what sort of a lout you look.
Zack. Oh, hurrah! (_He jerks his coat off and fastens on the clothes._)
Mrs. Munning. It's the best road out, Paul.
Paul. A rotten best.
Zack (_putting on the dress coat. It is far too large for him_). It will
be splendid to be wearing black again.
Paul. It's only for to-morrow, mind.
(_Paul does not yet turn to look at Zack._)
Mrs. Munning. Joe Wrigley's out of it six weeks or more. Paul. Joe
Wrigley's finished himself with me. Zack can go to-morrow till I've time
to look round.
Zack. Suppose I'm not so bad to-morrow, Paul?
Paul. Supposing pigs _'_ull fly. Let's have a look at you. Good Lord!
Hold the trousers to you and let us know the worst. Now, I ask you----
Mrs. Munning. I can tack the bottoms up, Paul, and the rest is not so
bad.
(_Enter Virginia. She has a hat on and her letter in her hand._)
Virginia. I've finished my---- Oh, Zack, you do look funny.
CURTAIN.
ACT II.
_Morning a fortnight later. The Scene is the refreshment-room attached
to Mrs. Munning's house. Walls whitewashed, roof of glass. Long deal
table at the lower end of which Paul sits writing a letter. Ink and a
few papers on the table. In one corner is a quantity of cane-bottomed
chairs. Below them, another table. Centre is a knife-cleaning machine,
which badly needs oil. Knives on table. At the machine Zack stands in
shirt-sleeves and apron. He is not energetic and turns lazily with many
glances towards Paul. He sees Paul look at him and his efforts increase
for a moment. Paul seals and stamps envelope and crosses to house door.
Zack, left alone, mops his brow and sits. A low knock at the street
door. Zack rises promptly and opens door with the air of a conspirator.
Martha Wrigley is there._
*****
Zack. You've just come at the right time.
(_Martha enters, but stays by door. Zack hurries behind the chairs and
returns with a small newspaper parcel which he gives Martha._)
Martha. Thank you, Zack.
Zack (_referring to the parcel_). It's a bit mixed-up on account of me
putting bits of things into my pocket at table when nobody's watching,
but it's all good food, Martha.
Martha. I'm sure I'm very grateful to you, Zack.
Zack. Well, I often get up famished from my meals, and it's a fight to
keep from feeling in my pocket, but I'm managing without.
Martha. Yes, and I---- Oh, Zack, I'm grateful. I am, really.
Zack. I know you are.
Martha. Yes, but I want you to know I am, and if anything's going to
come to you unpleasant, it's not my fault.
Zack. Unpleasant?
Martha. I'm being driven, Zack. I'd never dream of such a thing myself.
Zack. What ever is it?
Martha. It's father, Zack.
Zack. Again? What's he broke now?
Martha. He's not broke anything, but you know your brother sacked him,
and my father says he'll be revenged and----
Zack. That's a nasty spirit, Martha.
Martha. And a nasty thing that Mr. Paul did, and all.
Zack. I'm not denying that.
Martha. And I'd not mind whatever father did to Mr. Paul----
Zack. Oh, Martha!
Martha. I wouldn't. Not for sacking him because he hurt himself. But
father's doing it to you and I've to help him to do it, and--oh dear!
(_Her handkerchief comes out._)
Zack. Don't cry. No, don't do it, Martha, because if you do, I'll have
to console you, and you know what mother said to me the other day. (_He
is itching to "console," but restrains himself visibly._)
Martha. But it's-------
Zack. Paul's coming back. Quick, Martha.
Martha (_sniffing as she goes_). Oh!
(_Zack hustles her out c. and returns to his cleaning, not so quickly
that Paul does not see his return. Paul opens the door and Virginia
enters. Paul follows her in._)
Virginia. You do look busy, Zack.
Paul. He's good at looking it. I'd guarantee he hasn't raised his hand
while I've been out of the room.
Virginia (_who is obviously quite fond of Zack_). Oh, but you must be
kind to Zack to-day.
Paul. Why? What's to-day?
Virginia. I knew you didn't know. Do you, Zack?
Zack (_up to wall, consulting calendar_). Tuesday.
Virginia. It's your birthday and I hope you'll have a very lucky day.
Zack. My birthday! The twentieth of June. So it is.
(_Paul returns to his correspondence at the table, half occupied, half
listening._)
Virginia. Yes. I was sure you didn't know.
Zack. How did you know? Did mother tell you? Virginia. No.
Zack. Who did?
Virginia (_with mock impressiveness_). The family Bible, Zack! Your
mother lent it me to look at something yesterday, and there I found it.
Zachariah Manning, June 20th, 1886. Zack.
Zack. Yes.
Virginia. You knew?
Zack. Yes. That's the year all right.
Virginia. Then how dare you look forty when you're only twenty-nine?
Zack. Do I?
Virginia. You do, and I'm taking you in hand. Tell me, are your eyes so
very bad?
Zack. They're weak for reading with.
Virginia. You're not always reading. Why do you wear your glasses when
you're not?
Zack. It's a trouble to be taking them off and putting them on.
Virginia. So you keep them on all the time and damage your eyes. Come
here, Zack. (_She takes them off and gives them him._) There! Don't
put those on again until you want to read. You look at least five years
younger than you did.
Zack. Do I?
Virginia. You do. And now about the rest?
Zack. What rest?
Virginia. The other six years that we've got to wipe away. I've got a
present for you upstairs to do that.
Zack. A present!