THE DEVIL
Mars, you will remember, is red. That’s where your dim poetic
devil-makers got their hell-fire from.
[_Agnus holds his head._
THE DEVIL
The only true thing they tell about me is that I tempted man through
woman to wisdom. I have been hated and reviled as wisdom always is.
But my sentence of exile will soon be over—the ten thousand years will
soon be up—and then I can quit ridiculous man forever and go to school
again to fit myself for the Sun.
[_The light darts impatiently around._
THE DEVIL
I wish that ridiculous Dutchman’s soul would quit bothering me! (_To
the light_) Isn’t it enough that you’ve got me hiding from the police,
you imbecilic disembodied spirit? (_To Agnus_) Who was that handsome
fellow in the velvet jacket who just ran out of here? I’ve been
following him about for days hoping he’ll ask my help. Then I could
give this preposterous paunch back to that light comedian over there.
(_Points to light_) And I hope the police get it.
AGNUS
You’re a scientific kind of a lunatic, right enough. Souls do leave
their bodies during sleep or hypnotism or—
THE DEVIL (_satirically_)
Oh, you’ve discovered that, have you? Only fancy!
AGNUS
An ordinary lunatic would have pretended he could change himself into
_anything_, if he was The Devil—
THE DEVIL
As soon as I take human shape, naturally I’m bound by human laws. And
each time I get back from Mars, I must circulate around until some
one calls for me. There are always plenty of people calling for The
Devil. And then I have no choice—I must take the first I hear and
change when I can. And so I’m chained to this refugée until I get
something better—like that velvet-jacket fellow’s body, for instance.
(_Suddenly_) Is he married?
AGNUS
Who? Noel Onfroy! Yes—I’m mad—overwork, I suppose—(_suddenly clouded_)
worry! I don’t wonder I’m mad; I don’t wonder! (_Feels his head and
closes his eyes_)
THE DEVIL
Oh, too bad he’s married. I should have thought of that before. I’d
rather be a single Dutch comedian than a married Adonis. It’s bad
enough being tied to one human body, let alone two. (_Looks around
and sees that the light has disappeared_) The Dutchman’s gone, eh? He
goes back to his foolish attic every now and then to see if the police
have found any bombs yet. There are seven sewed up in the mattress—and
I don’t dare take them out of the house for fear the police may be
watching for a man with a suit-case. That Dutchman will get me in jail
yet.
AGNUS (_holding his head and looking at The Devil between the palms of
his hands_) You use singularly unclassical language for the Fount of
All Wisdom—
THE DEVIL
The American language. When I’m in England, I use English.—By the way,
are _you_ married?
AGNUS
I? (_Holds his head harder_)
THE DEVIL (_understanding_)
Not, eh? Well? (_He rises, advancing on Agnus, viewing him
speculatively, and finally approvingly_)
AGNUS (_alarmed, dimly conscious_)
Here! What now?
THE DEVIL (_fixing his eyes on Agnus_) You don’t believe in me?
AGNUS
Why—er—what are you doing? (_In panic_) Don’t look at me like that.
(_He starts up_)
THE DEVIL
Sit down!
[_Agnus struggles but sits down._
THE DEVIL
You called for me to help you. I’m going to. (_He goes to the windows
and pulls down the blinds_)
AGNUS
Here! What! (_He tries to rise but only sits starkly upright with
staring eyes. A faint luminosity glows over his head_)
[_The Devil pulls up the chair close; their knees touch. He leans
forward, staring into Agnus’s eyes. The luminosity grows brighter about
Agnus’s head, rises little by little, flickers and flutters. Meanwhile
a dull crimson light has glowed over The Devil’s head, and now it grows
steadily and moves across the space until it rests on Agnus’s head,
where it settles and sinks downward, disappearing._
THE DEVIL (_rising, in Agnus’s body_)
Take the Dutchman’s body, doctor—I’ve got yours—(_A second luminosity
glows at window_) Quick! Here comes the Dutchman back. Take his body,
or you’ll be homeless. It’s not much but it’s the only one I’ve got to
give you. Quick! I need you!
[_Each of the two luminosities dart toward the senseless body. One
settles and disappears. The other flies viciously around and around the
head. The Devil lets up the shades, shaking with laughter._
THE DEVIL
I hardly dare ask so impertinent a question—but which soul won?
AGNUS (_in the Dutchman’s body_)
You scoundrel! You fiend! You blackguard!
THE DEVIL
That might be either! The language of men is strikingly similar under
great loss. Who are you? The rightful owner or an usurper?
AGNUS (_shaking and trembling with rage_)
Give me back my body, or I’ll kill you—
THE DEVIL
Kill me? You can only kill your own nice attractive body. You’ll suffer
for any harm done to it when I give it back. So don’t knock out any
teeth, or you’ll have toothache all your life.
[_The light has been darting viciously between The Devil and Agnus._
THE DEVIL
Oh, go home to your bombs again, Schwartzenhopfel! This gentleman
didn’t want your old body. When he sees how ridiculous it looks on him,
he’s liable to shoot himself—or yourself. Nobody can love a body like
that. (_He draws aside curtains hiding a mirror set in the wall_) I
leave it to you, Agnus. Can you blame me for wanting to get rid of it?
[_Agnus, seeing himself as a short squat German, staggers back
clutching his throat._
THE DEVIL (_having smoothed down his coat lapels so as to reveal a silk
shirt, and twisted the carelessly tied necktie to a smart shape, takes
off tortoise-shell spectacles, presenting, instead of the absorbed
scientist, a young debonair man of fashion_) Now—am I a lunatic?
(_Searches pockets and finds a letter_)
AGNUS
You—Devil—
THE DEVIL (_correcting him suavely as he exhibits the address on the
letter_) Dr. Agnus, please!
CURTAIN
THE SECOND ACT
_The scene and the time are unchanged, although one minute may have
elapsed since the last word was spoken. During this time Agnus has
realized his misfortune. His face has ceased to be agonized and is now
only blank._
_The Devil still stands at the back of the chair, twirling Agnus’s
former moustache and admiring himself._
_The light is stationary._[1]
[Footnote 1: It must be remembered that when the word Agnus is written,
it means Agnus’s spirit; not his body, that is now The Devil’s.]
THE DEVIL
With these slight alterations in your dress, your face lighted up with
my attractive smile (_smiles_) and my bold intelligent gaze, you are a
handsome fellow, Agnus—by Saturn, a handsome fellow! I really believe
I’d rather have this body than that velvet-jacketed fellow’s—
AGNUS (_pleadingly_)
Don’t say that. It’s not much of a body. I have all sorts of pains
and aches—neglect, you know. You’ll be ill half your time. You won’t
have _any_ fun. Now this body (_strikes the Dutchman’s_) may not be
good-looking, but what’s that? It’s a fine healthy body—a sound body—
[_The light bobs up and down; as though nodding sorrowfully._
THE DEVIL
In that case you’re better off than you were. You ought to thank me.
[_The light darts at him._
THE DEVIL
I wish I could lose that German.
AGNUS (_feverishly_)
I _do_ thank you—physically. But that isn’t it. I’m engaged—to a girl.
She—she—she won’t know me in this body—
THE DEVIL
Engaged to a girl! Engaged!—(_Blankly_) Has the time been set for
marriage?
AGNUS
No, but—
THE DEVIL
Oh, well, that’s all right. I can get rid of her.
AGNUS
Get rid of her? Get rid of her! (_Wildly_) What do you mean?
THE DEVIL (_with a gesture_)
Scat, girl, scat! Chase her away!
AGNUS
Oh! you (_runs at him, fist clenched_)
THE DEVIL
Don’t forget yourself and break your own nose.
AGNUS
Oh, what am I to do? What am I to do? (_Agonizedly_) Oh, don’t chase
her away.
THE DEVIL
What then? Want me to hug her? Kiss her?
AGNUS
Oh, my God, no!
THE DEVIL
Well?
AGNUS
You don’t have to _kiss_ her!—
THE DEVIL
If I don’t kiss her, she’ll be kissing me—
AGNUS
Kissing you!
THE DEVIL
It’s always the neglectful one gets kissed.
AGNUS
She’s got too much dignity to kiss a man without being kissed!
THE DEVIL
Then she doesn’t love you—
AGNUS
She does love me!
THE DEVIL
When a woman loves a man, she doesn’t care which one kisses first so
long as they kiss. I’m glad she doesn’t love you. If she did, rudeness
and neglect, even knocking her down, would only make her love you more.
But women get very dignified when a man they don’t love ill-treats
them. They’re only too glad of an excuse to be rid of him.
AGNUS
I know now everything ever written about you is true. To hit a woman!
To hit a woman!
THE DEVIL
An empty bureau-drawer is best. It makes a lot of noise, scares them to
death, and doesn’t really hurt them at all.
AGNUS
You devil!
THE DEVIL
Dr. Agnus, please. A very neat little book could be written on
the psychology of beating children and women—for their own good,
of course! Never hurt them: that’s very coarse! A blow should be
simply a little more effective than the strongest word—and should
never be used until the last threat is exhausted. Of course, if your
vocabulary is limited—(_Shrugs his shoulders_) That’s why there’s so
much wife-beating among the lower classes. The really well-educated
man doesn’t need to beat his wife—when he can swear at her in seven
different languages—
[_The light darts viciously at him._
AGNUS
You devil!
THE DEVIL
Dr. Agnus, please. (_Indicating the light_) The Dutchman is angry, too.
He thinks it’s all right to blow up a building with a couple of hundred
people in it. But to lift a hand against a woman “save in kindness”—oh,
my!
[_The light is suddenly still._
THE DEVIL
And you, doctor, vivisect dogs oblivious to their screams of agony. But
you’d refuse to speak to the man who inflicted a harmless blow on his
wife. Oh, you ridiculous humans!
AGNUS
Vivisection saves many a civilized man.
THE DEVIL
A blow at the right time saves many a civilized woman. Women have only
begun to be civilized—since I posed as a woman once or twice: George
Eliot, George Sand, and a few others. You don’t laugh this time as you
did when I said I was Shakespeare and Shaw—
[_Agnus wrings his hands and walks away._
THE DEVIL
You see I discovered—in spite of all my work—that as soon as I built
men up to a highly civilized state, they fell right down again. There
was Egypt—look at the Pyramids. There was Greece—I was proud of
Greece—its philosophy—drama—architecture—I’ve never done so well since.
There was Rome. What fellows those Romans were—owned the world. There
was Spain—so did she. England! I still have hopes of England under my
new system. But what happened to the others? Smash! Crash! Bang! And I
had to start training savages again. I didn’t realize what the matter
was—I tried every system—and then, when England started to smash, my
eyes opened—the fault was women—
AGNUS
Why, women have always been our refining influences. They draw out our
nobler selves.
THE DEVIL
They draw out your sentimental selves, cunning minxes. Men were
dragged down, their philosophy sapped, their reason rotted, by living
with inferior creatures. You see, while men were out battling with
circumstances and learning to use their brains, women were slaves. Had
brains, right enough, but didn’t get a chance to use them. Men played
the grand act with them (_imitating a pompous man’s tone_): “Now don’t
bother your little head about that, dearie, papa’ll fix it.” Well,
about the beginning of the last century, I realized I must let men
alone for awhile—and work on women. So first, I created an industrial
revolution that would send women out to work in the world—like men—
AGNUS (_angrily_)
That proves what a devil you are! (_Sentimentally_) Ah, those good
old days when every father could support his daughter until she
married—when every wife was in her true sphere—the home.
THE DEVIL (_contemptuously_)
That shows how men’s brains have gone back while I worked on women.
I was so absorbed in women that I forgot men for fifty years until,
thoroughly alarmed, I created Bernard Shaw out of an ordinary Irish wit
by becoming _him_—
AGNUS (_sarcastically_)
Oh, you weren’t Ibsen, then?
THE DEVIL
Oh, yes, I was Ibsen. But that was in the cause of women’s education—to
champion the New Woman—
AGNUS
Is there any great man you were not?
THE DEVIL
No great ones. Well, my work on woman has been effective. She’s learned
in fifty years what men took thousands to learn. In another fifty
she’ll be men’s mental equal. And her sons will be Supermen. Then the
world will be able to get along without me—
[_There is a ring at the door._
AGNUS (_jumps up and is about to open the door, but remembers his
changed appearance; he peers agonizedly out of window and starts_) It’s
Fanny—Fanny!
THE DEVIL
The girl?
AGNUS
Yes, yes! She’s come for her answer?
[_Fanny rings irritatedly._
AGNUS (_to The Devil_)
Just say: “I accept, Fanny—go back and get the others.” There’s no time
to explain.
THE DEVIL
Will she go if I say that?
AGNUS
Yes, yes!
[_Fanny rings again._
THE DEVIL
An arrogant minx, apparently. You’ve trained her badly. But we’ll soon
fix that!
AGNUS
Will you go—please! She’ll look in the window in a moment and see me—I
mean you—please go!
THE DEVIL
What shall I say?
AGNUS
“I accept, Fanny—go back and get the others.” But no putting your arm
around her: no kissing!
THE DEVIL
No fear! I wish I were sure she wouldn’t kiss me—
[_Fanny rattles the knob; the door is opened impatiently, and she
enters angrily._
THE DEVIL (_immediately_)
Fanny, I accept: go and get the others.
FANNY
Oh, there you are! Why did you keep me ringing there like a fool?
THE DEVIL
Was that ringing like a fool’s? Suppose you go out now and ring like a
sensible person—just to see if I can tell the difference!
[_Fanny appears dumfounded and cannot find words. The Devil smiles
encouragingly at her._
AGNUS (_wildly_)
Fanny, I give you my word—
[_Fanny stares at him. Agnus realizes his position and grows
shamefacedly silent._
THE DEVIL (_introducing Agnus_)
My friend, Mr. Schwartzenhopfel. A very nice fellow—with a ridiculous
name.
[_The light darts at him viciously._
THE DEVIL
Heard me speak so much of you—feels like an old friend.—Call her
“Fanny,” Schwartzenhopfel. Call him “Hop,” Fanny—“Hop” for short.
FANNY (_recovering her breath_)
You’ve been drinking!
THE DEVIL
You must learn to love Hop, Fanny. If I should die, I should never want
you to marry anyone but Hop. (_With a tremendous slap on Agnus’s back_)
[_The light darts._
FANNY
I can’t understand your conduct, Addington? I’m at a loss!
THE DEVIL
Why—
[_Agnus punches him in the ribs._
THE DEVIL (_recollecting_)
Oh! it’s all right, Fanny. It’s all right! (_Carefully_)
Fanny—I—accept—go—and—get—the—others—
FANNY
You _do_ accept?
THE DEVIL
Fanny, I accept. Go and get the others.
FANNY
You accept—
THE DEVIL
Fanny, I accept. Go and—
FANNY (_kissing him_)
You dear old darling!
[_The Devil puts his arm about her with a sly wink at the raging Agnus._
FANNY
Now you can set the wedding for any date you please—next month if you
like—
[_The Devil takes his arm away._
FANNY
You’ve made me the happiest girl in the world—(_Kisses him again_)
THE DEVIL (_in a hollow tone_)
Go and get the others.
FANNY
I will. I will. Oh, you dear! (_Kisses him again and goes out through
the upper door in the rear_)
[_The Devil turns a look of reproachful and frigid dignity on Agnus.
The light dances about in joyful hatred._
THE DEVIL (_to the light_)
Get out of here, you Teutonic accident! (_To Agnus_) Dug a little share
for me, didn’t you? Married next month!
AGNUS (_alarmed_)
I don’t want her to marry you.
THE DEVIL
Then why tell me to “accept, Fanny, go and get the others,” eh?
AGNUS
Didn’t have to have time to explain everything to you?
THE DEVIL
What did I accept?
AGNUS
One hundred thousand dollars a year: chief chemist to the John Magnus
works—
THE DEVIL
Who are “the others” she went to get?
AGNUS
John Magnus—
THE DEVIL (_interrupting_)
The richest man in the world—isn’t he?
AGNUS (_contemptuously_)
I thought The Devil knew everything—
THE DEVIL
Everything worth knowing—but I can’t keep track of the petty things.
AGNUS
Petty? John Magnus—while not the richest man—controls the money-market.
Petty?
THE DEVIL
Any man with brains enough to control money-markets might be a
_fifth_-rate scientist, a fourth-rate painter, or a third-rate author!
He must be petty if he’s willing to be nothing but a first-class
financier. One thing I never was—a financier! Couldn’t waste my time.
Financiers, lawyers, stock-jobbers, and thieves generally are the
tumors on the human race! When I get through training women, their
superman sons will be the surgeons who remove those tumors—(_Suddenly_)
I see! She wants you to give up science for a paying job under
Magnus—eh?
AGNUS
Why—
THE DEVIL
Enough! What was your line?
AGNUS
Well—to explain quickly—but not quite accurately—immortality—
THE DEVIL
The devil you say! Pardon my using human terms! But—immortality!
AGNUS
I’ve made an animal’s functions live after the animal died.
THE DEVIL
That’s enough. And without my help! Why, that was my very next job!
To take some scientist’s body for a few years and start the world on
the path toward longer life. Of course, immortality of the body is all
rot. It’s bound to wear out some time. But—five hundred years—that’s
possible. It would save putting souls back into new-borns. For it
takes a hundred ordinary human lives to be ready for Mars. Out of
all the billions of men who have lived, we have only a few thousand
earth-people up there. The second-rate geniuses—Napoleon, Caesar,
George Washington, Tamerlane—all the second-raters—
AGNUS
Napoleon—Caesar—Washington—second-raters?
THE DEVIL
Of course! All the first-raters were—(_points to himself_) All soldiers
are second-rate. Just as all financiers are about tenth-rate—compared
to the great teachers, who help humanity to progress—like—like—(_struck
by a thought_) like you yourself. (_With an access of respect_)
Man—I’ll do the right thing by you! Before I quit this body—I’ll give
you the secret of making men live half a millennium.
ANGUS (_the man forgotten in the scientist_)
You will? (_Delightedly_) You will?
THE DEVIL (_shakes hands_)
And she was going to make you a hack?
AGNUS
Well, you see, she’s a very superior girl.
[_The Devil snorts._
AGNUS
And I really should give her the surroundings and luxuries that she’s
entitled to—being so superior a girl—
[_The Devil snorts again._
AGNUS
And the only money I ever made was that Nobel prize—
THE DEVIL (_starting_)
What? You won the Nobel prize?
[_Agnus nods._
THE DEVIL (_astounded_)
By Saturn, you’re the most startling combination of ass and genius I
ever met! Such modesty is actually first-rate—
ANGUS (_deprecatorily_)
Oh, don’t say that—
THE DEVIL
But such infatuation is hundredth-rate. Generally to be met with among
the middle classes—that is, the lowest class of intelligence—
AGNUS
The middle class—_lowest_?
THE DEVIL
Creatures of law and respectability always are. Aristocracy is
lower-class people getting intelligence. Middle-class people only get
money. There are hardly any American aristocrats—and those few live
abroad—
AGNUS
Nonsense! You wouldn’t call Miss Felix middle-class.
THE DEVIL
Miss Felix?
AGNUS
The young lady—
THE DEVIL
A person who’d burn up your genius in the fire that boils the pot?
Worse than middle-class—worthless—
AGNUS (_violently_)
Sir—
THE DEVIL
How can I get rid of her? For your own sake: how can I get rid of her?
[_Agnus clenches his fists._
THE DEVIL
I must play Davy Garrick again—do something to disgust her—
AGNUS (_violently ironical_)
Just treat her as you did a moment ago.
THE DEVIL
Trouble is: she left this room loving me—twenty times better than she
ever loved you. How can I help you—help humanity—with a drab like that
at my heels—?
AGNUS
You—(_about to strike_)
THE DEVIL (_laughs_)
Go on: disfigure yourself!
[_Agnus wrings his hands._
THE DEVIL (_crosses and recrosses the room; stares moodily out of
window with his hands behind back; then suddenly pointing outside the
window_) Who’s that?
AGNUS (_crossing and looking out_)
That actressy-looking creature?
THE DEVIL (_impatiently_)
Yes, yes—who is she?
AGNUS
Looking for lodgings, I believe. Had the impertinence to apply here—
THE DEVIL (_gloomily_)
She’s found them by this time, eh?
AGNUS (_with dignity_)
Nobody here takes lodgers. And the inn—the hotel—is for men only—
THE DEVIL
Hurrah!! (_He dashes out through the door and disappears; his voice is
heard outside_) Hi, there! Wait a minute!
[_The light settles sympathetically on Agnus’s shoulder._
AGNUS (_to the light_)
Poor devil! You’re worse off than I am.
[_The light wags dolefully._
AGNUS (_excitedly_)
He’s bringing her back—bringing her—_in_—_here_—
THE DEVIL (_outside_)
This way, Miss Blondin!
[_The Devil enters together with Doll Blondin, who is typical of
the Broadway idea of refinement and taste: dark blue Norfolk jacket
suit; small French skull-cap with tassel, her curly hair escaping
from beneath it; high collar and jabot of lace that falls almost to
her belt; short vamp suède pumps without toe-cap; preposterously high
Cuban heels. The combination of country suit with city shoes, of
jabot and lingerie waist—instead of tailored waist and plain collar
and tie—with cap suitable only for evening wear, serve to mark her as
one who dresses with instinctive taste but without the consistency of
the upper-class woman. However, she is a most attractive girl—about
twenty-three—and has an air of sophistication grafted on a babyish
ingenuousness, which makes anything she says quaintly pleasing._
DOLL BLONDIN (_turning to The Devil who has been following her in_) I
was told here you wouldn’t think of taking lodgers—
THE DEVIL
I wasn’t consulted—I need a pretty girl like you around the house just
now.
DOLL BLONDIN (_suspiciously_)
Look here—is there an older woman here—a housekeeper—
AGNUS (_with sudden wild hope_)
No, there isn’t.
DOLL BLONDIN (_to The Devil_)
Well, mind: no tricks!
THE DEVIL (_pained_)
My dear girl!
DOLL BLONDIN
I’m as much the lady (_primly_) as any you know, even if I am on the
stage. Anybody ’ud think I was a crocodile or some other wild beast the
way people stare. Not used to seeing girls who know how to dress, I
guess. What do these rubes know about class?
AGNUS (_in anguish_)
This is impossible!
DOLL BLONDIN (_eyeing him; to The Devil_)
Servant?
AGNUS
Madam!
DOLL BLONDIN
How _dare_ you call me “Madam”—
THE DEVIL
He’s a “rube,” as you say. Worse—a German “rube.”
[_The light darts viciously._
THE DEVIL
The worst kind of a “rube.” (_Going over to the window he calls hastily
to Agnus_) Ring for the servant, Schwartzenhopfel!
AGNUS (_violently_)
But I tell you—
THE DEVIL (_pointing to garden_)
Some people coming.
[_Agnus runs over to window; then he runs back and rings wildly._
DOLL BLONDIN
I’m here for studying. (_Severely_) That’s why I left New York where
gentlemen know how to treat ladies: real gentlemen—millionaires—that
could buy and sell this tank town. One of them gave me this chance; a
chance mighty few girls get—a part in a Vienna opera. No objections to
a piano, is there?
AGNUS
A piano? A piano!
THE DEVIL
No objection whatever. (_Points to Agnus_) My German friend will tune
it for you. One good thing about Germans—they can all tune pianos.
[_The light darts viciously._
TOPLISS (_enters from the stairway; an unintelligent but smart-looking
Englishman who wears a morning coat with gilt buttons; says to The
Devil_) You rang, sir?
THE DEVIL
The young lady will board here—
[_The bell at the garden door rings._
THE DEVIL (_hastily_)
On whatever terms she says—a room for her piano and her meals—and a
bedroom—
DOLL BLONDIN
And bath!
TOPLISS
There’s only two baths, sir—yours and mine—
THE DEVIL
Give her half of yours.
DOLL BLONDIN
Bathe in a servant’s bath-tub! I should say _not_—I’m as much of a lady
as—
THE DEVIL (_interrupting_)
I will share yours, Topliss.
DOLL BLONDIN (_contemptuously_)
You _must_ be hard up.
[_The bell is heard ringing again. Topliss goes to answer it._
AGNUS (_agonizedly_)
Show her to her rooms, Topliss.
[_Topliss looks haughtily at Agnus._
THE DEVIL
I’ll see to the door, Topliss.
[_Topliss takes the small hand-bag from Doll Blondin._