SCENE. A wild place in the mountains.
(A man in an attitude of despair is standing on a tiny projection of a
rock that rises almost sheer from the ground. How he got there it is not
easy to say, but he cannot be reached either from above or below. Short
ladders, ropes and sticks show that attempts have been made to save the
unknown person, but without success.
It seems that the unhappy man has been in that desperate position a long
time. A considerable crowd has already collected, extremely varied in
composition. There are venders of cold drinks; there is a whole little
bar behind which the bartender skips about out of breath and
perspiring--he has more on his hands than he can attend to; there are
peddlers selling picture postal cards, coral beads, souvenirs, and all
sorts of trash. One fellow is stubbornly trying to dispose of a
tortoise-shell comb, which is really not tortoise-shell. Tourists keep
pouring in from all sides, attracted by the report that a catastrophe is
impending--Englishmen, Americans, Germans, Russians, Frenchmen,
Italians, etc., with all their peculiar national traits of character,
manner and dress. Nearly all carry alpenstocks, field-glasses and
cameras. The conversation is in different languages, all of which, for
the convenience of the reader, we shall translate into English.
At the foot of the rock where the unknown man is to fall, two policemen
are chasing the children away and partitioning off a space, drawing a
rope around short stakes stuck in the ground. It is noisy and jolly.)
POLICEMAN. Get away, you loafer! The man'll fall on your head and then
your mother and father will be making a hullabaloo about it.
BOY. Will he fall here?
POLICEMAN. Yes, here.
BOY. Suppose he drops farther?
SECOND POLICEMAN. The boy is right. He may get desperate and jump, land
beyond the rope and hit some people in the crowd. I guess he weighs at
least about two hundred pounds.
FIRST POLICEMAN. Move on, move on, you! Where are you going? Is that
your daughter, lady? Please take her away! The young man will soon fall.
LADY. Soon? Did you say he is going to fall soon? Oh, heavens, and my
husband's not here!
LITTLE GIRL. He's in the café, mamma.
LADY (desperately). Yes, of course. He's always in the café. Go call
him, Nellie. Tell him the man will soon drop. Hurry! Hurry!
VOICES. Waiter!--Garçon--Kellner--Three beers out here!--No
beer?--What?--Say, that's a fine bar--We'll have some in a moment--Hurry
up--Waiter!--Waiter!--Garçon!
FIRST POLICEMAN. Say, boy, you're here again?
BOY. I wanted to take the stone away.
POLICEMAN. What for?
BOY. So he shouldn't get hurt so badly when he falls.
SECOND POLICEMAN. The boy is right. We ought to remove the stone. We
ought to clear the place altogether. Isn't there any sawdust or sand
about?
(Two English tourists enter. They look at the unknown man through
field-glasses and exchange remarks.)
FIRST TOURIST. He's young.
SECOND TOURIST. How old?
FIRST TOURIST. Twenty-eight.
SECOND TOURIST. Twenty-six. Fright has made him look older.
FIRST TOURIST. How much will you bet?
SECOND TOURIST. Ten to a hundred. Put it down.
FIRST TOURIST (writing in his note-book. To the policeman). How did he
got up there? Why don't they take him off?
POLICEMAN. They tried, but they couldn't. Our ladders are too short.
SECOND TOURIST. Has he been here long?
POLICEMAN. Two days.
FIRST TOURIST. Aha! He'll drop at night.
SECOND TOURIST. In two hours. A hundred to a hundred.
FIRST TOURIST. Put it down. (He shouts to the man on the rock.) How are
you feeling? What? I can't hear you.
UNKNOWN MAN (in a scarcely audible voice). Bad, very bad.
LADY. Oh, heavens, and my husband is not here!
LITTLE GIRL (running in). Papa said he'll get here in plenty of time.
He's playing chess.
LADY. Oh, heavens! Nellie, tell him he must come. I insist. But perhaps
I had rather-- Will he fall soon, Mr. Policeman? No? Nellie, you go.
I'll stay here and keep the place for papa.
(A tall, lanky woman of unusually independent and military appearance
and a tourist dispute for the same place. The tourist, a short, quiet,
rather weak man, feebly defends his rights; the woman is resolute and
aggressive.)
TOURIST. But, lady, it is my place. I have been standing here for two
hours.
MILITARY WOMAN. What do I care how long you have been standing here. I
want this place. Do you understand? It offers a good view, and that's
just what I want. Do you understand?
TOURIST (weakly). It's what I want, too.
MILITARY WOMAN. I beg your pardon, what do you know about these things
anyway?
TOURIST. What knowledge is required? A man will fall. That's all.
MILITARY WOMAN (mimicking). "A man will fall. That's all." Won't you
have the goodness to tell me whether you have ever seen a man fall? No?
Well, I did. Not one, but three. Two acrobats, one rope-walker and three
aeronauts.
TOURIST. That makes six.
MILITARY WOMAN (mimicking). "That makes six." Say, you are a
mathematical prodigy. And did you ever see a tiger tear a woman to
pieces in a zoo, right before your eyes? Eh? What? Yes, exactly. Now, I
did-- Please! Please!
(The tourist steps aside, shrugging his shoulders with an air of injury,
and the tall woman triumphantly takes possession of the stone she has
won by her prowess. She sits down, spreading out around her her bag,
handkerchiefs, peppermints, and medicine bottle, takes off her gloves
and wipes her field-glass, glancing pleasantly on all around. Finally
she turns to the lady who is waiting for her husband in the café.)
MILITARY WOMAN (amiably). You will tire yourself out, dear. Why don't
you sit down?
LADY. Oh, my, don't talk about it. My legs are as stiff as that rock
there.
MILITARY WOMAN. Men are so rude nowadays. They will never give their
place to a woman. Have you brought peppermints with you?
LADY (frightened). No. Why? Is it necessary?
MILITARY WOMAN. When you keep looking up a long time you are bound to
get sick. Sure thing. Have you spirits of ammonia? No? Good gracious,
how thoughtless! How will they bring you back to consciousness when he
falls? You haven't any smelling salts either, I dare say. Of course not.
Have you anybody to take care of you, seeing that you are so helpless
yourself?
LADY (frightened). I will tell my husband. He is in the café.
MILITARY WOMAN. Your husband is a brute.
POLICEMAN. Whose coat is this? Who threw this rag here?
BOY. It's mine. I spread my coat there so that he doesn't hurt himself
so badly when he falls.
POLICEMAN. Take it away.
(Two tourists armed with cameras contending for the same position.)
FIRST TOURIST. I wanted this place.
SECOND TOURIST. You wanted it, but I got it.
FIRST TOURIST. You just came here. I have had this place for two days.
SECOND TOURIST. Then why did you go without even leaving your shadow?
FIRST TOURIST. I wasn't going to starve myself to death.
COMB-VENDER (mysteriously). Tortoise-shell.
TOURIST (savagely). Well?
VENDER. Genuine tortoise-shell.
TOURIST. Go to the devil.
THIRD TOURIST, PHOTOGRAPHER. For heaven's sake, lady, you're sitting on
my camera!
LITTLE LADY. Oh! Where is it?
TOURIST. Under you, under you, lady.
LITTLE LADY. I am so tired. What a wretched camera you have. I thought
it felt uncomfortable and I was wondering why. Now I know; I am sitting
on your camera.
TOURIST (agonized). Lady!
LITTLE LADY. I thought it was a stone. I saw something lying there and I
thought: A queer-looking stone; I wonder why it's so black. So that's
what it was; it was your camera. I see.
TOURIST (agonized). Lady, for heaven's sake!
LITTLE LADY. Why is it so large, tell me. Cameras are small, but this
one is so large. I swear I never had the faintest suspicion it was a
camera. Can you take my picture? I would so much like to have my picture
taken with the mountains here for a background, in this wonderful
setting.
TOURIST. How can I take your picture if you are sitting on my camera?
LITTLE LADY (jumping up, frightened). Is it possible? You don't say so.
Why didn't you tell me so? Does it take pictures?
VOICES. Waiter, one beer!--What did you bring wine for?--I gave you my
order long ago.--What will you have, sir?--One minute.--In a second.
Waiter!--Waiter--Toothpicks!--
(A fat tourist enters in haste, panting, surrounded by a numerous
family.)
TOURIST (crying). Mary! Aleck! Jimmie!--Where is Mary? For God's sake!
Where is Mary?
STUDENT (dismally). Here she is, papa.
TOURIST. Where is she? Mary!
GIRL. Here I am, papa.
TOURIST. Where in the world are you? (He turns around.) Ah, there! What
are you standing back of me for? Look, look! For goodness sake, where
are you looking?
GIRL (dismally). I don't know, papa.
TOURIST. No, that's impossible. Imagine! She never once saw a lightning
flash. She always keeps her eyes open as wide as onions, but the instant
it flashes she closes them. So she never saw lightning, not once. Mary,
you are missing it again. There it is! You see!
STUDENT. She sees, papa.
TOURIST. Keep an eye on her. (Suddenly dropping into tone of profound
pity.) Ah, poor young man. Imagine! He'll fall from that high rock.
Look, children, see how pale he is! That should be a lesson to you how
dangerous climbing is.
STUDENT (dismally). He won't fall to-day, papa!
SECOND GIRL. Papa, Mary has closed her eyes again.
FIRST STUDENT. Let us sit down, papa! Upon my word, he won't fall
to-day. The porter told me so. I can't stand it any more. You've been
dragging us about every day from morning till night visiting art
galleries.
TOURIST. What's that? For whose benefit am I doing this? Do you think I
enjoy spending my time with a dunce?
SECOND GIRL. Papa, Mary is blinking her eyes again.
SECOND STUDENT. I can't stand it either. I have terrible dreams.
Yesterday I dreamed of garçons the whole night long.
TOURIST. Jimmie.
FIRST STUDENT. I have gotten so thin I am nothing but skin and bones. I
can't stand it any more, father. I'd rather be a farmer, or tend pigs.
TOURIST. Aleck.
FIRST STUDENT. If he were really to fall--but it's a fake. You believe
every lie told you! They all lie. Baedecker lies, too. Yes, your
Baedecker lies!
MARY (dismally). Papa, children, he's beginning to fall.
(The man on the rock shouts something down into the crowd. There is
general commotion. Voices, "Look, he's falling." Field-glasses are
raised; the photographers, violently agitated, click their cameras; the
policemen diligently clean the place where he is to fall.)
PHOTOGRAPHER. Oh, hang it! What is the matter with me? The devil! When a
man's in a hurry--
SECOND PHOTOGRAPHER. Brother, your camera is closed.
PHOTOGRAPHER. The devil take it.
VOICES. Hush! He's getting ready to fall.-- No, he's saying
something.--No, he's falling.--Hush!
UNKNOWN MAN ON THE ROCK (faintly). Save me! Save me!
TOURIST. Ah, poor young man. Mary, Jimmie, there's a tragedy for you.
The sky is clear, the weather is beautiful, and has he to fall and be
shattered to death? Can you realize how dreadful that is, Aleck?
STUDENT (wearily). Yes, I can realize it.
TOURIST. Mary, can you realize it? Imagine. There is the sky. There are
people enjoying themselves and partaking of refreshments. Everything is
so nice and pleasant, and he has to fall. What a tragedy! Do you
remember Hamlet?
SECOND GIRL (prompting). Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, of Alsinore.
JAMES. Of Helsingfors, I know. Don't bother me, father!
MARY (dismally). He dreamed about garçons all night long.
ALECK. Why don't you order sandwiches, father.
COMB-VENDER (mysteriously). Tortoise-shell. Genuine tortoise-shell.
TOURIST (credulously). Stolen?
VENDER. Why, sir, the idea!
TOURIST (angrily). Do you mean to tell me it's genuine if it isn't
stolen? Go on. Not much.
MILITARY WOMAN (amiably). Are all these your children?
TOURIST. Yes, madam. A father's duty. You see, they are protesting. It
is the eternal conflict between fathers and children. Here is such a
tragedy going on, such a heart-rending tragedy--Mary, you are blinking
your eyes again.
MILITARY WOMAN. You are quite right. Children must be hardened to
things. But why do you call this a terrible tragedy? Every roofer, when
he falls, falls from a great height. But this here--what is it? A
hundred, two hundred feet. I saw a man fall plumb from the sky.
TOURIST (overwhelmed). You don't say?
ALECK. Children, listen. Plumb from the sky.
MILITARY WOMAN. Yes, yes. I saw an aeronaut drop from the clouds and go
crash upon an iron roof.
TOURIST. How terrible!
MILITARY WOMAN. That's what I call a tragedy. It took two hours to bring
me back to consciousness, and all that time they pumped water on me, the
scoundrels. I was nearly drowned. From that day on I never step out of
the door without taking spirits of ammonia with me.
(Enter a strolling troop of Italian singers and musicians: a short, fat
tenor, with a reddish beard and large, watery, stupidly dreamy eyes,
singing with extraordinary sweetness; a skinny humpback with a jockey
cap, and a screeching baritone; a bass who is also a mandolinist,
looking like a bandit; a girl with a violin, closing her eyes when she
plays, so that only the whites are seen. They take their stand and begin
to sing: "Sul mare luccica--Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia--")
MARY (dismally). Papa, children, look. He is beginning to wave his
hands.
TOURIST. Is that the effect the music has upon him?
MILITARY WOMAN. Quite possible. Music usually goes with such things. But
that'll make him fall sooner than he should. Musicians, go away from
here! Go!
(A tall tourist, with up-curled mustache, violently gesticulating,
enters, followed by a small group attracted by curiosity.)
TALL TOURIST. It's scandalous. Why don't they save him? Ladies and
gentlemen, you all heard him shout: "Save me." Didn't you?
THE CURIOUS (in chorus). Yes, yes, we heard him.
TALL TOURIST. There you are. I distinctly heard these words: "Save me!
Why don't they save me?" It's scandalous. Policemen, policemen! Why
don't you save him? What are you doing there?
POLICEMEN. We are cleaning up the place for him to fall.
TALL TOURIST. That's a sensible thing to do, too. But why don't you save
him? You ought to save him. If a man asks you to save him, it is
absolutely essential to save him. Isn't it so, ladies and gentlemen?
THE CURIOUS (in chorus). True, absolutely true. It is essential to save
him.
TALL TOURIST (with heat). We are not heathens, we are Christians. We
should love our neighbors. When a man asks to be saved every measure
which the government has at its command should be taken to save him.
Policeman, have you taken every measure?
POLICEMAN. Every one!
TALL TOURIST. Every one without exception? Gentleman, every measure has
been taken. Listen, young man, every measure has been taken to save you.
Did you hear?
UNKNOWN MAN (in a scarcely audible voice). Save me!
TALL TOURIST (excitedly). Gentlemen, did you hear? He again asked to be
saved. Policeman, did you hear?
ONE OF THE CURIOUS (timidly). It is my opinion that it is absolutely
necessary to save him.
TALL TOURIST. That's right. Exactly. Why, that's what I have been saying
for the last two hours. Policeman, do you hear? It is scandalous.
ONE OF THE CURIOUS (a little bolder). It is my opinion that an appeal
should be made to the highest authority.
THE REST (in chorus). Yes, yes, a complaint should be made. It is
scandalous. The government ought not to leave any of its citizens in
danger. We all pay taxes. He must be saved.
TALL TOURIST. Didn't I say so? Of course we must put up a complaint.
Young man! Listen, young man. Do you pay taxes? What? I can't hear.
TOURIST. Jimmie, Katie, listen! What a tragedy! Ah, the poor young man!
He is soon to fall and they ask him to pay a domiciliary tax.
KATE (the girl with glasses, pedantically). That can hardly be called a
domicile, father. The meaning of domicile is--
JAMES (pinching her). Lickspittle.
MARY (wearily). Papa, children, look! He's again beginning to fall.
(There is excitement in the crowd, and again a bustling and shouting
among the photographers.)
TALL TOURIST. We must hurry, ladies and gentlemen. He must be saved at
any cost. Who's going with me?
THE CURIOUS (in chorus). We are all going! We are all going?
TALL TOURIST. Policeman, did you hear? Come, ladies and gentlemen!
(They depart, fiercely gesticulating. The café grows more lively. The
sound of clinking beer glasses and the clatter of steins is heard, and
the beginning of a loud German song. The bartender, who has forgotten
himself while talking to somebody, starts suddenly and runs off, looks
up to the sky with a hopeless air and wipes the perspiration from his
face with his napkin. Angry calls of Waiter! Waiter!)
UNKNOWN MAN (rather loudly). Can you let me have some soda water?
(The waiter is startled, looks at the sky, glances at the man on the
rock, and pretending not to have heard him, walks away.)
MANY VOICES. Waiter! Beer!
WAITER. One moment, one moment!
(Two drunken men come out from the café.)
LADY. Ah, there is my husband. Come here quick.
MILITARY WOMAN. A downright brute.
DRUNKEN MAN (waving his hand to the unknown man). Say, is it very bad up
there? Hey?
UNKNOWN MAN (rather loudly). Yes, it's bad. I am sick and tired of it.
DRUNKEN MAN. Can't you get a drink?
UNKNOWN MAN. No, how can I?
SECOND DRUNKEN MAN. Say, what are you talking about? How can he get a
drink? The man is about to die and you tempt him and try to get him
excited. Listen, up there, we have been drinking your health right
along. It won't hurt you, will it?
FIRST DRUNKEN MAN. Ah, go on! What are you talking about? How can it
hurt him? Why, it will only do him good. It will encourage him. Listen,
honest to God, we are very sorry for you, but don't mind us. We are
going to the café to have another drink. Good-bye.
SECOND DRUNKEN MAN. Look, what a crowd.
FIRST DRUNKEN MAN. Come, or he'll fall and then they'll close the café.
(Enter a new crowd of tourists, a very elegant gentleman, the chief
correspondent of European newspapers at their head. He is followed by an
ecstatic whisper of respect and admiration. Many leave the café to look
at him, and even the waiter turns slightly around, glances at him
quickly, smiles happily and continues on his way, spilling something
from his tray.)
VOICES. The correspondent! The correspondent! Look!
LADY. Oh, my, and my husband is gone again!
TOURIST. Jimmie, Mary, Aleck, Katie, Charlie, look! This is the chief
correspondent. Do you realize it? The very highest of all. Whatever he
writes goes.
KATE. Mary, dear, again you are not looking.
ALECK. I wish you would order some sandwiches for us. I can't stand it
any longer. A human being has to eat.
TOURIST (ecstatically). What a tragedy! Katie dear, can you realize it?
Consider how awful. The weather is so beautiful, and the chief
correspondent. Take out your note-book, Jimmie.
JAMES. I lost it, father.
CORRESPONDENT. Where is he?
VOICES (obligingly). There, there he is. There! A little higher. Still
higher! A little lower! No, higher!
CORRESPONDENT. If you please, if you please, ladies and gentlemen, I
will find him myself. Oh, yes, there he is. Hm! What a situation!
TOURIST. Won't you have a chair?
CORRESPONDENT. Thank you. (Sits down.) Hm! What a situation! Very
interesting. Very interesting, indeed. (Whisks out his note-book;
amiably to the photographers.) Have you taken any pictures yet,
gentlemen?
FIRST PHOTOGRAPHER. Yes, sir, certainly, certainly. We have photographed
the place showing the general character of the locality--