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WHY MARRY?
[Illustration: _From a photograph by White Studio._
HELEN: You're about the most conceited man I ever knew.
ERNEST: How can I help it, when you admire me so? [_Page_ 94.
]
WHY MARRY?
(Originally published under the title
"And So They Were Married")
BY
JESSE LYNCH WILLIAMS
[Illustration]
ILLUSTRATED
[Illustration: Banner Play Bureau
111 Ellis Street
San Francisco, California]
PUBLISHED BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
COPYRIGHT, 1914, 1918, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
_Published October, 1914_
_New and revised edition published April, 1918_
_Reprinted September, 1918; February, 1919_
[All rights strictly reserved--including amateur acting rights.]
[Illustration]
TO
HARRIET AND JAMES LEES LAIDLAW
WHY MARRY?
A Comedy in Three Acts
New York: Astor Theatre: Produced by Selwyn & Company, Dec. 25,
1917, under the direction of Roi Cooper Megrue.
The scene is a week-end at a country house not far away; the time,
Saturday afternoon, Sunday morning, and Sunday evening.
THE PEOPLE AT THE HOUSE (As You Meet Them)
JEAN, the host's younger sister, who has been brought
up to be married and nothing else LOTUS ROBB
REX, an unmarried neighbor, who has not been brought
up to be anything but rich HAROLD WEST
LUCY, the hostess, who is trying her best to be "just
an old-fashioned wife" in a new-fashioned home, BEATRICE BECKLEY
UNCLE EVERETT, a Judge, who belongs to the older
generation and yet understands the new--and
believes in divorce NAT C. GOODWIN
COUSIN THEODORE, a clergyman and yet a human being,
who believes in everything--except divorce, ERNEST LAWFORD
JOHN, who owns the house and almost every one in
it--and does not believe in divorce EDMUND BREESE
HELEN, the host's other sister, whom every one wants
to marry, but who doesn't want to marry any one, ESTELLE WINWOOD
ERNEST, a scientist, who believes in neither divorce
nor marriage but makes a great discovery SHELLEY HULL
(By arrangement with George C. Tyler)
THE BUTLER RICHARD PITMAN
THE FOOTMAN WALTER GOODSON
ADVANCE NOTICE BY THE AUTHOR
One afternoon shortly before the New York "opening" of this comedy a
most estimable lady sat down to make me a cup of tea.
"Now, do tell me, what is your play about?" she inquired with
commendable enthusiasm. For, being a true woman, she had early achieved
the becoming habit of letting members of the superior sex talk about
themselves.
"'Why Marry?'" said I, "tells the truth about marriage."
"Oh, why," she expostulated, "why write unpleasant plays?"
"But it is not 'unpleasant.'"
"Then it isn't true!" she exclaimed. "That is, I mean--I mean--did you
say cream or lemon?"
And in the pause which accompanied the pouring of the cream I detected
the look of one realizing too late that it is always better to think
before speaking.
This little incident, it seemed to me, epitomizes charmingly the
attitude of "our nicest people" toward our fundamental institution. The
truth about marriage must be unpleasant. Therefore, tell us something
we know isn't true. It will be so much nicer for our young people.
It is to be feared, however, that young people who go to see "Why
Marry?" in the hope of being shocked do not get their money's worth. I
have heard of but two persons who have been scandalized by this play,
and they were both old people. One was a woman in the country who had
not seen it, but had read the title, and so wrote several indignant
letters about it. The other was an elderly bachelor of the type which
finds useful occupation in decorating club windows like geraniums. He
took his niece to see it, and, deciding at the end of Act II that the
play was going to be unpleasant in Act III, took her home at once. The
next afternoon she appeared at the matinee with a whole bevy of her own
generation and saw the rest of the play. I asked her later if it had
shocked any of them.
"Oh, no," she replied, "we are too young to be shocked."
That little incident also struck me as socially significant. There never
were two generations inhabiting the same globe simultaneously with such
widely separated points of view.
* * * * *
For several years after this play was first published no theatrical
manager on Broadway would produce it. I don't blame them, I want to
thank them for it. I doubt if this sort of thing could have appealed to
many theatre-goers then, especially as my young lovers are trying to be
good, not bad. "Self-expression" and "the right to happiness" do not
enter into their plans. The causes of their courageous and, of course,
mistaken decision are unselfish and social motives, however futile and
antisocial the results would have been had not their desperate
determination been thwarted.... When this play was first published most
people were not thinking along these lines. Such ideas were considered
radical then. They will soon be old-fashioned--even on the stage.
Kind and discriminating as the critics have been in regard to this
comedy (a discriminating critic being, of course, one who praises your
play), few of them have seen the point which I thought I was making
emphatically clear, namely, that we can't cure social defects by
individual treatment. Not only the lovers, but all the characters in
this play are trying to do right according to their lights. There is no
villain in this piece. At least the villain remains "off stage." Perhaps
that is why so few see him. You are the villain, you and I and the rest
of society. We are responsible for the rules and regulations of the
marriage game. Instead of having fun with human nature, I tried to go
higher up and have fun with human institutions.
I say "tried," because apparently I did not succeed. The joke is on me.
Still, I can get some amusement out of it: for a great many people seem
to like this play who would be indignant if they knew what they were
really applauding. They think they are merely enjoying "satire on human
nature." Now, it is a curious fact that you can always curse human
nature with impunity; can malign it, revile it, boot it up and down the
decalogue, and you will be warmly praised. "How true to life!" you are
told. "I know some one just like that." (It is always some one else, of
course.) But dare lay hands on the Existing Order--and you'll find
you've laid your hands on a hornet's nest.
You see, most people do not want anything changed--except possibly the
Law of Change. They do not object to finding fault with mankind because
"you can't change human nature," as they are fond of telling you with an
interesting air of originality. But laws, customs, and ideals can be
changed, can be improved. Therefore they cry: "Hands off! How dare you!"
Man made human institutions, therefore we reverence them. Whereas human
nature was merely made by God. So we don't think so much of it. We are
prejudiced, like all creators, in favor of our own creations. After all,
there is excellent precedent for such complacency. Even God, we are
informed, pronounced his work "all very good" and rested on the seventh
day.
* * * * *
Pretty nearly everything in the play as acted is in the book as
published; but by no means all that is in the book could possibly be
enacted on the stage in two hours and a half. One scene, a breakfast
scene between John and his wife, has been amplified for acting, but all
the other scenes as printed here have been shortened for stage purposes
and one or two cut out entirely.
The "set" was changed to represent the loggia, instead of the terrace,
of John's "little farm." Outdoor scenes are not supposed to be good for
comedy. Walls, or a suggestion of them, produce a better psychological
effect for the purpose, besides making it possible to speak in quieter,
more intimate tones than when the voice spills out into the wings and up
into the paint loft.
Near the end of the play a number of relatives, rich and poor, are
supposed to arrive for dinner and for influencing by their presence the
recalcitrant couple. That is the way it is printed and that is how it
was acted during the first few weeks of the Chicago run. But though the
family may have its place in the book, it proved to be an awful nuisance
on the stage. No matter how well these minor parts might be acted (or
dressed), their sudden irruption during the last and most important
moments of the performance distracted the audience's attention from the
principal characters and the main issue. It was not clear who was who.
Programmes fluttered; perplexity was observed.... So we decided that the
family must be destroyed. It is always a perplexing problem to devise a
substitute for the family.
JESSE LYNCH WILLIAMS.
ILLUSTRATIONS
HELEN: You're about the most conceited man I ever knew.
ERNEST: How can I help it, when you admire me so? _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
ALL: Then why, _why_ do you want a divorce?
JUDGE: Because, damn it, I don't like her 30
JUDGE: You poor little pessimists! Human nature
to-day is better than it ever was, but our most
important institution is worse--the most sacred
relationship in life has become a jest in the
market-place 204
JUDGE: We thought we believed in trial marriage.
Nothing of the sort--trial separation! What
marriage put asunder divorce has joined together 230
ACT I
"And So They Were Married"
ACT I
_Up from the fragrant garden comes a girl, running. She takes the
broad terrace steps two at a stride, laughing, breathless, fleet
as a fawn, sweet as a rose. She is hotly pursued by a boy,
handsome, ardent, attractively selfish, and just now blindly
determined to catch the pretty creature before she gains the
protecting shelter of home. She is determined to let him but not
to let him know it.... There, she might have darted in through the
open door, but it is such a cold, formal entrance; she pretends to
be exhausted, dodges behind a stone tea-table, and, turning, faces
him, each panting and laughing excitedly; she alluring and
defiant, he merry and dominant._
_She is twenty-five and he is a year or two older, but they are
both children; in other words, unmarried._
REX
Think I'll let you say that to me?
JEAN
[_making a face at him_]
Think I'm afraid of you!
REX
Take it back, I tell you.
JEAN
I won't.
REX
I'll make you.
JEAN
[_with a dance step_]
Think so, do you?
REX
I warn you.
JEAN
Booh-woo!
[_He makes a feint to the right, then dashes to the left and
catches her._
REX
[_triumphantly_]
Now!... You would, would you?
JEAN
[_struggling_]
Let me go.
REX
I couldn't think of it.
JEAN
[_seizes his hands to free herself--can't_]
You're so strong--it isn't fair.
REX
You're so sweet--it isn't fair.
[_Smiling down at her struggles, rejoicing in his strength, her
weakness, he gently draws her near._
JEAN
[_knows what is coming_]
No, Rex.
REX
Yes.
JEAN
You mustn't.
REX
But I will.
[_He laughs and kisses her lightly on the cheek. Therefore
she struggles furiously. Therefore he does it again. And
again. Suddenly he enfolds her completely and kisses her
passionately--cheeks, mouth, eyes--until she gasps in
alarm. Laughter has gone from them now._
JEAN
Oh, please!... some one will come.
REX
[_with the intoxication of such moments_]
I don't care who comes--I love you.
JEAN
No ... let me go.
REX
Not till you kiss me, Jean. [_JEAN hesitates, brushes his cheek lightly
with her lips, and in pretty confusion tries to escape._] Not till you
say you love me, Jean. [_Eyes hidden in his coat, she bobs her head. He
laughs and loves it._] Say it!
JEAN
I--er--do.
REX
Do _what_?... _Say_ it!...
[_She cannot. He swings her about, bringing her face close to his._
JEAN
I love you, Rex. Are you sure you love me?
REX
Am I sure! You irresistible little--
[_Begins to kiss her. Masculine triumph._
JEAN
And want to marry me, Rex?
REX
[_stops--startled--had not thought of that_]
Why--er--of course. What did you suppose!
[_Drops his eyes, sobered._
JEAN
[_feminine triumph_]
And me "a penniless orphing"?
REX
[_fascinated by the way she says it, he laughs. Then, his honor
touched_]
Why, what kind of a man do you take me for!
[_And wants her lips again._
JEAN
[_giving herself to him, head sinks upon his shoulder_]
Then, oh, Rex, love me and be nice to me and--and take me away from all
this!
[_She covers her face with her hands and sobs. He pats her
tenderly, with a manly look on his face._
_LUCY comes up from the garden. She is dressed in white with a
garden hat, a garden basket filled with flowers in one hand, long
scissors in the other. She is JOHN'S wife, the mistress of the
house, sister-in-law to JEAN; conspicuously a "sweet" woman,
affectedly so, a contrast with JEAN'S more modern, less delicate
charm. JEAN is frank and brave, LUCY indirect and timid, pretty
but fading, forty but fighting it._
JEAN
[_laughing_]
It's all right, Lucy--we're engaged!
LUCY
Well, I should hope so!
[_Shoots a look at JEAN, "So?"_
REX
[_recovering himself_]
I have often tried to thank you and good old John for letting me come
over here so much, but now! How can I _ever_ thank you? See-what-I-mean?
LUCY
I'll tell you how. Behave yourself after you are married to John's
little sister.
JEAN
Rex, have you had a fearful past? How fascinating!
REX
I'm going to have a glorious future, all right.
JEAN
Not unless you do as I tell you. Going to obey me, Rex?
REX
You bet I am.
JEAN
Then begin now. Go!... Get out! [_She pushes REX, laughing and
protesting, toward the garden._] I want to tell Lucy how nice you are.
Run along over to the golf club, and by and by--if you _are_ a good
boy--you can take me out in your new car. [_REX kisses the hand on his
arm and leaves, laughing._] My dear, he has five cars! Thank you so
much.
[_Alone, they throw off the mask worn before men._
LUCY
Now, deary, tell me all about it. How did it happen?
JEAN
Oh, I simply followed your advice.
LUCY
Picked a quarrel with him?
JEAN
[_laughing_]
Yes. I pretended to believe in woman suffrage!
LUCY
Good! They hate that.
JEAN
I told him all men were bullying brutes!
LUCY
They are! And then you ran away?
JEAN
Of course.
LUCY
And he after you?
JEAN
Of course.
LUCY
And you let him catch you?
JEAN
Of cour--well ... he caught me.
[_They both laugh._
LUCY
I can guess the rest.
JEAN
Why, it didn't take five minutes.
LUCY
And now it's to last through all eternity.... Isn't love wonderful?
JEAN
Um-hum. Wonderful.
[_They begin to cull out the flowers._
LUCY
But you do love him, dear, don't you?
JEAN
[_arranging flowers_]
I did then. I don't now. Why is that, Lucy?
LUCY
Oh, but you will learn to love him. [_Jean shrugs, drops flowers, and
turns away._] Now, now! no worrying--it brings wrinkles! [_Patting
Jean's shoulder._] Rex is just the sort to give the woman he adores
everything in the world.
JEAN
[_wriggling out of LUCY'S embrace_]
I am not the woman he adores.
LUCY
Why, Jean! He's engaged to you.
JEAN
But he's in love with my sister. You know that as well as I do.
LUCY
[_uncomfortably_]
Oh, well, he was once, but not now. Men admire these independent women,
but they don't marry them. Nobody wants to marry a sexless freak with a
scientific degree.
JEAN
Oh, what's the use, Lucy? He's still wild about Helen, and she still
laughs at him. So you and John have trotted out the little sister. Why
not be honest about it.
LUCY
Well, I may be old-fashioned, but I don't think it's nice to talk this
way when you're just engaged.
JEAN
Here comes your "sexless freak"--not with a degree, either.
LUCY
[_following JEAN'S gaze_]
With a man!
JEAN
[_smiling_]
With _my_ man.
[_HELEN, with REX bending toward her eagerly, appears. She is a
beautiful woman of twenty-nine, tall, strong, glorious--plenty of
old-fashioned charm, despite her new-fashioned ideas. She is
dressed in a tennis costume and is swinging a racquet._
REX
But they told me you were going to stay abroad all winter.
HELEN
My work, Rex--I had to get back to work.
REX
Work!... You are too good to work.
JEAN
[_amused, not jealous_]
Is this your high-powered car, Rex? Have you learned to run it yet?
REX
[_startled_]
But ... well ... you see, I met Helen on the way. See-what-I-mean?
JEAN
[_laughing_]
Oh, we see.
REX
But I hadn't seen her for so long. I thought--[_Looks from HELEN to
JEAN_] ... wait, I'll get the car.
[_He hurries off._
LUCY
[_to JEAN_]
Why couldn't she have stayed abroad!
JEAN
Helen, don't talk about your work before Lucy--it shocks her.
HELEN
Oh, very well; make it my 'career'!
JEAN
[_arm around HELEN_]
Sssh!--that's worse.
LUCY
Helen, dear, I deem it my duty to tell you that you are being talked
about.
HELEN
Lucy, dear, do you always find your true happiness in duty?
LUCY
Well, if you think you are going back to that horrid place again ...
after what happened that night? John won't hear of it.
HELEN
If the Baker Institute of Medical Experiment is not a respectable place
you should make John resign as trustee.
[_She laughs it off._
LUCY
John is trustee of--oh, nearly everything. That makes it all the worse.
It isn't as if you had to work.
HELEN
Oh, but John is so rich now, his credit can stand it. And you oughtn't
to mind! Why, some of our most fashionable families now contain freaks
like me. It's becoming quite smart, just as in former days one of the
sons would go into the Church or the navy.
LUCY
Well, of course, I am old-fashioned, but going down-town every day with
the men,--it seems so unwomanly.
HELEN
But wasn't I womanly for years? Instead of going down-town and working
with highbrows, I stayed up-town and played with lowbrows--until I was
bored to death.
LUCY
[_sighs_]
Yes, that's what comes of going to college, leaving the home, getting
these new ideas. All the same, Helen, the men, really nice men, don't
like it.
HELEN
Well, you see, I don't like really nice men, so that makes it agreeable
all around.
LUCY
If it were only art or music or something feminine, but that awful
laboratory! How can a lady poison poor, innocent little monkeys?
HELEN
If I were a lady I'd _dine_ with monkeys.... Do you know what the word
means, Lucy? In Anglo-Saxon times "lady" meant "one who gives loaves";
now, one who _takes_ a loaf.
LUCY
Very clever, my dear, but some day you'll be sorry. No man, Helen, likes
a woman to have independent views.
JEAN
Helen can afford to have independent views; she has an independent
income--she earns it.
LUCY
Independent income! Her salary wouldn't pay for your hats.
JEAN
All the same, I wish I had gone to college; I wish I had learned a
profession.
LUCY
What have these New Women accomplished? Just one thing: they are
destroying chivalry!
HELEN
Not entirely, Lucy, not entirely. For instance, I am the best assistant
Ernest Hamilton has, but the worst paid; the others are all men. Hurray
for chivalry!
LUCY
Well, I'm just an old-fashioned wife. Woman's sphere is the home. My
husband says so.
HELEN
But suppose you haven't any husband! What can a spinster do in the home?
LUCY
_Stay_ in it--till she gets one! That's what the old-fashioned spinster
used to do.
HELEN
The old-fashioned spinster used to spin.
LUCY
At any rate, the old-fashioned spinster did not stay out of her home all
night and get herself compromised, talked about, sent abroad! Or, if she
did, she knew enough to remain abroad until the gossip blew over.
[_Lucy turns to leave._
HELEN
[_mischievously_]
Ah, that wonderful night! [_LUCY turns back, amazed._] The night we
discovered the Hamilton antitoxin, the night that made the Baker
Institute famous! And, just think, I had a hand in it, Lucy, a hand in
the unwomanly work of saving children's lives! But, of course, an
old-fashioned spinster would have blushed and said: "Excuse me, Doctor
Hamilton, but we must now let a year's work go to waste because you are
a man and I am a woman, and it's dark outdoors!" ... That's the way to
preserve true chivalry.
LUCY
You think we can't see through all this? Science--fiddlesticks! The
good-looking young scientist--that's why you couldn't stay abroad. We
see it, John sees it, and now every one will see it. Then how will you
feel?
HELEN
Ernest _is_ rather good-looking, isn't he?
LUCY
Do you think your brother will let you marry a mere scientist!... Oh,
well, Doctor Hamilton is in love with his work--fortunately.... Besides,
he's a thoroughbred; he wouldn't even look at a girl who throws herself
at his head.
HELEN
So I needn't try any longer? Too bad.
LUCY
[_losing her temper and going_]
Oh, you New Women are quite superior, aren't you?... Thank heavens,
little Jean didn't elbow _her_ way into men's affairs; she had no
unwomanly ambitions for a career! But she is engaged to Rex Baker!
HELEN
Jean, is this true?
LUCY
[_triumphantly_]
_Marriage_ is woman's only true career.
HELEN
Jean! You can't, you won't, you mustn't marry Rex!
LUCY
[_flouncing out_]
"She who will not when she may," my dear!
JEAN
[_avoiding HELEN'S eyes_]
Lucy hears John coming--he'd take her head off if she weren't there to
meet him. [_HELEN only looks at her._] He bullies and browbeats her
worse than ever. I can't stand it here much longer. It's getting on my
nerves.
HELEN
Jean! You care for Rex no more than I do.
JEAN
[_still evasive_]
John's bringing out Uncle Everett and Cousin Theodore. My dear, the
whole family is up in the air about you.
HELEN
Oh, I can take care of myself, but you!... Jean, you're not the sort to
marry Rex or any other man, unless you simply can't live without him.
JEAN
[_after a little pause_]
Well ... how can I live without him--without some man? You can support
yourself. I can't.
HELEN
But you wouldn't live on a man you didn't really love!
JEAN
Why not? Lucy does; most wives live on men they don't really love. To
stop doing so and get divorced is wrong, you know.
HELEN
Jean, Jean, poor little Jean!
JEAN
Well, I'd rather have domestic unhappiness of my own than watch other
people's all my life.
HELEN
I don't like to hurt you, dear, but--[_Takes JEAN'S face and raises
it._] How about that nice boy at the Harvard Law School?
JEAN
Don't! [_Controls herself, then, in a low voice_] Bob is _still_ at the
Law School, Helen.
HELEN
Can't you wait, dear?
JEAN
He never asked me to, Helen.
HELEN
He would, if you let him.
JEAN
It wouldn't be fair. It takes so long to get started. Everything costs
so much. Why, nowadays, men in the professions, unless they have private
means, can't marry until nearly _forty_. When Bob is forty I'll be
forty, Helen.
HELEN
Ah, but when a girl really cares!
JEAN
Helen, do _you_ know?
HELEN
Never mind about me--you!
JEAN
Oh, we'll get over it, I suppose.... People do! Some day, perhaps,
he'll smile and say: "Just think, I once loved _that_ fat old thing!"
[_Suddenly changes to sobbing._] Helen! when Rex caught me and kissed
me I shut my eyes and tried to think it was Bob.
HELEN
[_takes JEAN in her arms_]
You can't keep on thinking so, dear.
JEAN
But that isn't the worst! When he held me fast and I couldn't get away,
I began ... to forget Bob ... to forget everything ... [_Breaks off,
overcome with shame._] But not now, not now! It's not the same thing at
all. [_Buries face in HELEN'S breast and sobs it out._] Oh, I feel like
the devil, dear.... And all this time he doesn't really want me--he
wants you, you! I trapped him into it; I trapped him!
HELEN
And I know Rex--he's a good sport; he'll stick to it, if you do,
dear--only you won't! You've caught him by playing on his worst--don't
hold him by playing on his best!
JEAN
But what shall I do? I'm nearly twenty-six. I've got to escape from home
in some way.
HELEN
But what a way!
[_REX returns._
REX
Ready, Jean? [_To HELEN._] Lucy and John and your Cousin Theodore are in
there having a fine, old-fashioned family fight with the judge.
HELEN
With Uncle Everett? What about?
REX
They shut up when they saw me. All I heard was the parson--"Marriage is
a social institution." Grand old row, though. [_A BUTLER and FOOTMAN
appear, wheeling a tea-wagon._] Looks as if they were coming out here.
HELEN
Then I am going in. [_Detaining JEAN._] You will follow my advice?
JEAN
[_apart to HELEN_]
Oh, I don't know. Soon or late I must follow the only profession I have
learned.
[_JEAN leaves with REX. HELEN watches them, sighs, and goes in.
The SERVANTS arrange the tea-table and go into the house._
_LUCY comes out, followed by her husband, JOHN, and the JUDGE, who
is UNCLE EVERETT, and COUSIN THEODORE._
_JOHN, the masterful type of successful American business man;
well set up, close-cropped mustache, inclined to baldness; keen
eye, vibrant voice, quick movements, quick decisions, quick
temper._
_UNCLE EVERETT is a genial satirist with a cynical tolerance of
the ways of the world, which he understands, laughs at, and rather
likes._
_COUSIN THEODORE, a care-worn rector, who, though he buttons his
collar behind, likes those who don't; a noble soul,
self-sacrificing and sanctified, but he does not obtrude his
profession upon others--never talks shop unless asked to do so,
and prides himself upon not being a bigot._
_They are continuing an earnest discussion, with the intimate
manner of friendly members of the same family. JOHN, LUCY, and
THEODORE deeply concerned; UNCLE EVERETT detached and amused._
THEODORE
But, Uncle Everett, hasn't Aunt Julia always been a good wife to you?
JUDGE
Quite so, quite so, a good wife, Theodore, a good wife.
LUCY
And a _devoted_ mother to your children, Uncle Everett?
JUDGE
Devoted, Lucy, devoted.
JOHN
She has always obeyed you, Uncle Everett.
JUDGE
Yes, John--a true, old-fashioned woman.
THEODORE
She has been a great help to me in the parish work, Uncle Everett.
JUDGE
An earnest worker in the vineyard, Theodore--in fact, I might say, a
model female.
ALL
Then why, _why_ do you want a divorce?
JUDGE
Because, damn it, I don't like her!
LUCY
But think of poor Aunt Julia!
JUDGE
But, damn it, she doesn't like _me_.
THEODORE
[_wagging head sadly_]
Ah, yes, I suppose there has been fault on both sides.
JUDGE
Not at all! No fault on either side.... Both patterns of Christian
fortitude to the end! We still are. Just listen to this telegram.
LUCY
[_puzzled_]
From Aunt Julia?
[Illustration: _From a photograph by White Studio._
ALL: Then why, _why_ do you want a divorce?
JUDGE: Because, damn it, I don't like her.]
JUDGE
Yes from Aunt Julia in Reno. Not used to travelling without me; knew I'd
worry. Thoughtful of her, wasn't it? [_Puts on glasses._] A night
letter. Much cheaper; your Aunt Julia was always a frugal wife. Besides,
she never could keep within ten words. [_Reads._] "Arrived safely.
Charming rooms with plenty of air and sunlight. Our case docketed for
March 15th. Wish you were here to see the women in Divorcee
Row--overdressed and underbred." Rather neat, eh? "Overdressed and
underbred." "I should love to hear _your_ comments on the various
types." Now, isn't that sweet of her? Well, you know, I always _could_
make her laugh--except when I made her cry. "Write soon. With love.
Julia." Now [_folds telegram_], isn't that a nice message? From a wife
suing for divorce? You happily married people couldn't beat that.
[_Pats telegram and pockets it tenderly._
JOHN
[_like a practical business man_]
But if there's no other woman, no other man--what's it all about?
JUDGE
She likes her beefsteak well done; I like mine underdone. She likes one
window open--about so much [_indicates four inches_]; I like all the
windows open wide! She likes to stay at home; I like to travel. She
loves the opera and hates the theatre; I love the theatre and hate the
opera.
THEODORE
Stop! aren't you willing to make a few little sacrifices for each other?
Haven't you character enough for that?
JUDGE
We've been making sacrifices for twenty-five years, a quarter of a
century! Character enough to last us now.... Why, I remember the first
dinner we had together after we were pronounced man and wife, with a
full choral service and a great many expensive flowers--quite a smart
wedding, Lucy, for those simple days. "Darling," I asked my blushing
bride, "do you like tutti-frutti ice-cream?" "I adore it, dearest," she
murmured. I hated it, but nobly sacrificed myself and gave her
tutti-frutti and gained character every evening of our honeymoon! Then
when we got back and began our "new life" together in our "little home,"
my darling gave _me_ tutti-frutti and indigestion _once a week_ until I
nearly died!
LUCY
But why didn't you tell her?
JUDGE
I did; I did. Got chronic dyspepsia and struck! "_You_ may adore this
stuff, _darling_," I said, "but I hate it." "So do I, dearest," says
she. "Then why in thunder have you had it all these years,
_sweetheart_?" "For your sake, _beloved_!" And that tells the whole
story of our married life. We have nothing in common but a love of
divorce and a mutual abhorrence of tutti-frutti. "Two souls with but a
single thought, two hearts that beat as one!" It has been the dream of
our lives to get apart, and each has nobly refrained for the other's
sake. And all in vain!
JOHN
Bah! All a cloak to hide his real motive. And he knows it!
JUDGE
[_after a painful pause_]
I may as well confess. [_Looks around to see if overheard. Whispers._]
For over twenty years I--I have broken my marriage vow! [_LUCY drops her
eyes. THEODORE aghast. JOHN wags head._] So has your Aunt Julia!
THEODORE
No! not that!
JUDGE
Well, we solemnly promised to love each other until death did us part.
We have broken that sacred vow! I don't love _her_; she doesn't love
_me_--not in the least!
JOHN
Rot! A matured, middle-aged man, a distinguished member of the
bar--break up his home for that? Damned rot!
JUDGE
Right again, John. That's not why I'm breaking up my home. I prefer my
club. What does the modern home amount to? Merely a place to leave your
wife.
LUCY
Of course, it doesn't matter about the poor little wife left at home.
JUDGE
Wrong, Lucy, it does matter. That's why I _stayed_ at home and was bored
to death with her prattle about clothes and the opera, instead of dining
at the club with my intellectual equals, picking up business there,
getting rich like John, supplying her with _more_ clothes and a whole
_box_ at the opera, like yours, Lucy.
LUCY
[_shoots a glance at her husband_]
Oh, that's the way you men _always_ talk. It never occurs to you that
business, business, _business_ is _just_ as much of a bore to us!
JUDGE
Wrong again! It did occur to _me_--hence the divorce! She couldn't stand
seeing _me_ bored; I couldn't stand seeing _her_ bored. Once we could
deceive each other; but now--too well acquainted; our happy home--a
hollow mockery!
THEODORE
You ought to be ashamed! I love my home!
JOHN
So do I.
[_He glances sternly at LUCY._
LUCY
[_nervously_]
So do I.
JUDGE
All right. Stick to it, if you love it. Only, don't claim credit for
doing what you enjoy. I stuck to my home for a quarter of a century and
disliked it the whole time. At last I'm free to say so. Just think of
it, Lucy, free to utter those things about marriage we all know are true
but don't dare say! Free to be honest, John! No longer a hypocrite, no
longer a liar! A soul set free, Theodore--two souls, in fact. "Two souls
with but a single thought----"
THEODORE
Stop! You have _children_ to consider, not merely your own selfish
happiness!
LUCY
Yes, think of Tom and little Julia!
JUDGE
We did ... for a quarter of a century--sacrificed everything to them,
even our self-respect; but now--what's the use? We are childless now.
Tom and Julia have both left us for "little homes" of their own to love.
THEODORE
Ah, but don't you want them to have the old home to come back to?
JUDGE
"No place like home" for children, eh? You're right--can't have too much
of it. Most children only have _one_ home. Ours will have _two_! When
they get bored with one they can try the other.
THEODORE
But, seriously, Uncle Everett--"Whom God hath joined together!"
LUCY
[_clasping JOHN'S arm_]
Yes, Uncle Everett, marriages are made in heaven.
JUDGE
I see; quite so; but your Aunt Julia and I were joined together by a
pink parasol made in Paris.
JOHN
What rot! Stop your fooling and speak the truth, man.
JUDGE
Just what I'm doing--that's why you think I'm fooling. A very pretty
parasol--but it wasn't made in heaven. You see, God made poor, dear
Julia pale, but on that fatal day, twenty-five years ago, the pink
parasol, not God, made her rosy and irresistible. I did the rest--with
the aid of a clergyman, whom I tipped even more liberally than the
waiter who served us tutti-frutti. Blame _me_ for it, blame her, the
parasol, the parson, but do not, my dear Theodore, blame the Deity for
our own mistakes. It's so blasphemous.
[_A pause. LUCY takes place at the tea-table to serve tea._
LUCY
And to think we invited _you_, of all people, here to-day of all days!
[_To JOHN._] We mustn't let Rex know. The Bakers don't believe in
divorce.
JOHN
What's this? You don't mean that Jean----?
LUCY
Yes! Just in time--before he knew Helen was back.
JOHN
[_jumps up_]
She's landed him! She's landed him! We're marrying into the Baker
family! The Baker family! [_Shaking hands right and left._] Why, she'll
have more money than any of us!... Well, well! We'll all have to stand
around before little Jean now!... My, my! Lucy, you're a wonder! Those
pearls--I'll buy them; they're yours! Hurray for Lucy!
[_Kisses_ LUCY.
LUCY
[_feeling her importance_]
Now, if I could only get _Helen_ out of this awful mess and safely
married to some nice man!
JUDGE
[_sipping his tea_]
Meaning one having money?
THEODORE
The Hamiltons are an older family than the Bakers, Lucy, older than our
own.
JUDGE
Meaning they _once_ had money.
JOHN
[_still pacing to and fro_]
Waste a beauty on a bacteriologist? A crime!
THEODORE
See here, John, Ernest Hamilton is the biggest thing you've got in the
Baker Institute! One of the loveliest fellows in the world, too, and if
you expect me--why did you ask us here, anyway?
JUDGE
Far as I can make out, we're here to help one of John's sisters marry a
man she doesn't love and prevent the other from marrying the man she
does.
JOHN
Oh, look here: I've nothing against young Hamilton.... I _like_
him--proud of all he's done for the institute. Why, Mr. Baker is tickled
to death about the Hamilton antitoxin. But, Theodore, this is a
practical world. Your scientific friend gets just two thousand dollars a
year!... Lucy, send for Helen.
[_LUCY goes obediently._
JUDGE
Well, why not give the young man a raise?
JOHN
Oh, that's not a bad salary for scientists, college professors, and that
sort of thing. Why, even the head of the institute himself gets less
than the superintendent of my mills. No future in science.
JUDGE
Perfectly practical, Theodore. The superintendent of John's mills saves
the company thousands of dollars. These bacteriologists merely save the
nation thousands of babies. All our laws, written and unwritten, value
private property above human life. I'm a distinguished jurist and I
always render my decisions accordingly. I'd be reversed by the United
States Supreme Court if I didn't. We're all rewarded in inverse ratio to
our usefulness to society, Theodore. That's why "practical men" think
changes are "dangerous."
JOHN
Muck-raker!
JUDGE
It's all on a sliding scale, John. For keeping up the cost of living you
and old man Baker get ... [_Stretches arms out full length._] Heaven
only knows how much. For saving the Constitution I get ... a good deal.
[_Hands three feet apart._] For saving in wages and operating expenses
your superintendent gets so much. [_Hands two feet apart._] For saving
human life Ernest Hamilton gets that. [_Hands six inches apart._] For
saving immortal souls Theodore gets--[_Holds up two forefingers an inch
apart._] Now, if any one came along and saved the world----
THEODORE
[_interrupts_]
They crucified Him.
JOHN
Muck-raker, muck-raker.
LUCY
[_returning_]
Tried my best, John, but Helen says she prefers to talk with you alone
some time.
JOHN
[_furious_]
She "prefers"? See here! Am I master in my own house or not?
JUDGE
But Helen is a guest in it now. No longer under your control, John.
She's the New Woman.
THEODORE
John, _you_ can't stop that girl's marrying Ernest, if she wants to;
he's head over heels in love with her.
LUCY
What! We thought he was in love with his work!
THEODORE
He thinks there's no hope for him, poor boy.
LUCY
[_to JOHN_]
And she is mad about him!
JOHN
[_to LUCY_]
And he is on the way out here now!
THEODORE
What! He's coming to see her?
JOHN
No, no, thinks she's still in Paris--so she was when I invited him, damn
it--but something had to be done and done delicately. That's why I
invited you two.
JUDGE
[_bursts out laughing_]
Beautiful! These lovers haven't met for a month, and to-night there's a
moon!
THEODORE
[_also laughs_]
You may as well give in, John. It's the simplest solution.
LUCY
[_timidly_]
Yes, John, she's nearly thirty, and think how she treats all the _nice_
men.
JOHN
Who's doing this? You go tell Helen ... that her Uncle Everett wants to
see her!
[_Lucy shrugs, starts reluctantly, and lingers listening._
THEODORE
Now, uncle, you have more influence over her than any of us--don't let
her know about ... Aunt Julia. Helen thinks the world of you.
JUDGE
Of course not, never let the rising generation suspect the truth about
marriage--if you want 'em to marry.
THEODORE
There are other truths than unpleasant truths, Uncle Everett, other
marriages than unhappy marriages.
JUDGE
Want me to tell her the truth about your marriage?
LUCY
[_at the door_]
Why uncle! Even _you_ must admit that Theodore and Mary are happy.
[_JOHN is too much surprised to notice LUCY'S presence._
JUDGE
Happy? What's that got to do with it? Marriage is a social institution.
Theodore said so.... Every time a boy kisses a girl she should first
inquire: "A sacrifice for society?" And if he says, "I want to gain
character, sweetheart," then--"Darling, do your duty!" and he'll do it.
LUCY
Well, Theodore has certainly done _his_ duty by society--six children!
JUDGE
Then society hasn't done its duty by Theodore--only one salary!
JOHN
The more credit to him! He and Mary have sacrificed everything to their
children and the Church--even health!
THEODORE
We don't need your pity! We don't want your praise! Poverty, suffering,
even separation, have only drawn us closer together. We love each other
through it all! Why, in the last letter the doctor let her write she
said, she said--[_Suddenly overcome with emotion, turns abruptly._] If
you'll excuse me, Lucy ... Sanitarium ... the telephone.
[_THEODORE goes into the house._
JUDGE
Not praise or pity but something more substantial and, by George, I'll
get it for them!
[_Turns to JOHN, who interrupts._
JOHN
See the example _he_ sets to society--I honor him for it.
JUDGE
Fine! but that doesn't seem to restore Mary's radiant health, Theodore's
brilliant youth.
LUCY
Ah, but they have their _children_--think how they adore those beautiful
children!
JUDGE
No, don't think how they adore them, think how they _rear_ those
beautiful children--in the streets; one little daughter dead from
contagion; one son going to the devil from other things picked up in the
street! If marriage is a social institution, look at it socially. Why, a
marriage like mine is worth a dozen like theirs--to Society. Look at my
well-launched children; look at my useful career, as a jackal to Big
Business; look at my now perfectly contented spouse!
LUCY
But if you are divorced!
JUDGE
Is the object of marriage merely to stay married?
LUCY
But character, think of the character they have gained.
JUDGE
Oh, is it to gain character at the expense of helpless offspring?
Society doesn't gain by that--it loses, Lucy, it loses.... But simply
because, God bless 'em, "they love each other through it all," you
sentimental standpatters believe in lying about it, do you?
JOHN
[_bored, whips out pocket check-book and fountain pen_]
Oh, talk, talk, talk! Money talks for _me_.... But they're both so
confoundedly proud!
JUDGE
Go on, write that check! [_JOHN writes._] They must sacrifice their
pride, John. Nothing else left to sacrifice, I'm afraid.
JOHN
Well, you get this to them somehow.
[_Hands check to JUDGE._
JUDGE
Aha! Talk did it.... Five thousand? Generous John!
JOHN
[_impatiently_]
Never mind about me. _That_ problem is all settled; now about Helen....
Lucy! I thought I told you----
[_LUCY, in a guilty hurry, escapes into the house._
JUDGE
John, charity never settles problems; it perpetuates them. You can't
cure social defects by individual treatment.
JOHN
[_more impatiently_]
Does talk settle anything?
JUDGE
Everything. We may even settle the marriage problem if we talk
_honestly_. [_THEODORE returns from telephoning to the sanitarium._]
Theodore, it's all right! John honestly believes in setting an example
to society! Crazy to have his sisters go and do likewise!
THEODORE
Splendid, John! I knew you'd see it--an ideal match.
JUDGE
[_overriding JOHN_]
Right, Theodore, ideal. This scientific suitor will shower everything
upon her John honors and admires: A host of servants--I mean sacrifices;
carriages and motors--I mean character and morals; just what her brother
advocates in Sunday-school--for others. An ideal marriage.
JOHN
[_hands in pockets_]
You think you're awfully funny, don't you? Humph! I do more for the
Church, for education, art, science than all the rest of the family
combined. Incidentally, I'm not divorced.... But this is a practical
world, Theodore, I've got to protect my own.
LUCY
[_returning_]
Helen will be here in a minute.
JOHN
[_suddenly getting an idea_]
Ah! I have it! I know how to keep them apart!
THEODORE
Be careful, John--these two love each other.
JUDGE
Yes, young people still fall in love. Whether we make it hard or easy
for them--they _will_ do it. But, mark my words, unless we _reform
marriage_, there is going to be a sympathetic _strike_ against it--as
there is already against having children. Instead of making it harder to
get apart, we've got to make it easier to stay together. Otherwise the
ancient bluff will soon be called!
LUCY
Sssh! Here she comes.
THEODORE
_Please_ don't talk this way before her.
JUDGE
All right, I'm not divorced yet,... still in the conspiracy of silence.
[_HELEN appears at the door. A sudden silence._
HELEN
[_kissing THEODORE and JUDGE affectionately_]
I'm _so_ sorry to hear about dear Mary. [_To JUDGE._] But why didn't
Aunt Julia come? Is she ill, too?
[_Slight panic in the family party._
JUDGE
She's gone to Re-Re-Rio Janeiro--I mean to Santa Barbara--wants a
complete change--The Rest Cure. [_To THEODORE apart._] Lie number one.
[_Another silence. LUCY makes tea for HELEN._
HELEN
[_taking the cup_]
Well, go on!
THEODORE
Go on with what?
HELEN
[_stirring tea_]
Your discussion of marriage.
LUCY
How did you know?
HELEN
Oh, it's in the air. Everybody's talking about it nowadays.
[_She sips tea, and the others look conscious._
THEODORE
My dear, marriage is woman's only true career.
HELEN
[_raising her shield of flippancy_]
So Lucy tells me, Cousin Theodore. But a woman cannot pursue her career,
she must be pursued by it; otherwise she is unwomanly.
JUDGE
Ahem. As we passed through the library a while ago, I think I saw your
little sister being pursued by her career.
HELEN
Yes, uncle, but Jean is a true woman. I'm only a New Woman.
JUDGE
All the same, you'll be an old woman some day--if you don't watch out.
HELEN
Ah, yes, my life's a failure. I haven't trapped a man into a contract to
support me.
LUCY
[_picks up knitting bag and does her best to look like "just an
old-fashioned wife"_]
You ought to be ashamed! Making marriage so mercenary. Helen, dear,
haven't you New Women any sentiment?
HELEN
Enough sentiment not to make a mercenary marriage, Lucy, dear.
JUDGE
Ahem! And what kind of a marriage do you expect to make?
HELEN
Not any, thank you, uncle.
JUDGE
What! You don't believe in holy matrimony?
HELEN
Only as a last extremity, uncle, like unholy divorce.
JUDGE
[_jumps_]
What do _you_ know about that?
HELEN
I know all about it! [_Others jump._] I have been reading up on the
subject.
[_All relax, relieved, but now gather about the young woman._
THEODORE }
}
Come now, simply because many young people }
rush into marriage without thinking-- }
}
}
LUCY } [_Together_]
}
Simply because these New Women-- }
}
}
JOHN }
}
Simply because one marriage in a }
thousand ends in divorce-- }
HELEN
Wait!... One in a thousand? Dear me, what an idealist you are, John! In
America, one marriage in every eleven now ends in divorce. And yet you
wonder why I hesitate.
JOHN
One in eleven--rot! [_To JUDGE._] All this muck-raking should be
suppressed by the Government. "One in eleven!" Bah!
HELEN
[_demurely_]
The Government's own statistics, John.
[_They all turn to the JUDGE for denial, but he nods confirmation,
with a complacent smile, murmuring: "Two souls with but a single
thought."_
LUCY
[_sweetly knitting_]
Well, I may be old-fashioned, but it seems to _me_ that nice girls
shouldn't _think_ of such things.... Their husbands will tell them all
they ought to know about marriage--after they're married.
HELEN
Ah, I see. Nice girls mustn't think until after they rush in, but they
mustn't rush in until after they think. You married people make it all
so simple for us.
JUDGE
Right! The way to cure all evil is for nice people to close their minds
and mouths to it. It's "unpleasant" for a pure mind, and it "leaves a
bad taste in the mouth." So there you are, my dear.
JOHN
[_coming in strong_]
Oh, talk, talk, talk! I've had enough. See here, young lady, I offered
to pay all your expenses abroad for a year. You didn't seem to
appreciate it--well, the trustees of the institute are now to give
Doctor Hamilton a year abroad. How do you like that?
[_All turn and look at HELEN._
HELEN
Splendid! Just what he needs! Doctor Metchnikoff told me in Paris that
America always kills its big men with routine. When do we start?
[_She tries to look very businesslike._
JOHN
[_springing to his feet_]
"We!" Do you think _you_ are going?
HELEN
Of course! I'm his assistant--quite indispensable to him.... [_To all._]
Oh, well, if you don't believe me, ask him!
JOHN
[_pacing to and fro_]
What next! Paris! Alone, with a man!--Here's where I call a halt!
HELEN
But if my work calls me, I don't really see what you have to say about
it, John.
JOHN
Better not defy me, Helen.
[_He scowls._
HELEN
Better not bully me, John.
[_She smiles._
JOHN
I am your brother.
HELEN
But not my owner! [_Then, instead of defiance, she turns with animated
interest to the others._] You know, all women used to be owned by men.
Formerly they ruled us by physical force--now by financial force.... But
at last they are to lose even _that_ hold upon us--poor dears!
[_Pats JOHN'S shoulder playfully._
JOHN
[_amused, but serious_]
That's all right in theory, but this is a practical world. My pull got
you into the institute; my pull can get you out. You give up this wild
idea or give up your job!
HELEN
[_delighted_]
What did I tell you? Financial force! They still try it, you see. [_To
JOHN._] What if I refused to give up either, John?
JOHN
[_emphatic_]
Then as a trustee of the institute I ask for your resignation--right
here and now! [_Turns away._] I guess _that_ will hold her at home a
while.
HELEN
I simply _must_ go to Paris now. I've nothing else to do!
JOHN
[_with a confident smile_]
You will, eh? Who'll pay your expenses this time?
HELEN
[_matter of fact_]
Doctor Hamilton.
LUCY
Helen! please! You oughtn't to say such things even in joke.
HELEN
He'll take me along as his private secretary, if I ask him.
[_A pause. The others look at one another helplessly._
JUDGE
John, she's got you. You might as well quit.
JOHN
Nonsense. I have just begun. You'll see.
THEODORE
If you're so independent, my dear, why don't you marry your scientist
and be done with it?
HELEN
[_resents the intrusion but hides her feelings_]
Can you keep a secret? [_They all seem to think they can and gather
near._] He has never asked me!
[_The family seems annoyed._
LUCY
[_with match-making ardor_]
No wonder, dear, he has never seen you except in that awful apron. But
those stunning dinner gowns John bought you in Paris! My dear, in
evening dress you are quite irresistible!
JUDGE
[_apart to THEODORE_]
Irresistible? Pink parasols. What a system!
HELEN
But you see, I don't _want_ him to ask me. I've had all I could do to
keep him from it.
[_The family seems perplexed._
JOHN
She's got _some_ sense left.
LUCY
But suppose he did ask you, dear?
HELEN
Why, I'd simply refer the matter to John, of course. If John said, "Love
him," I'd love him; if John said, "Don't love him," I'd turn it off like
electric light.
[_The family is becoming exasperated._
LUCY
[_insinuating_]
Oh, you can't deceive us. We know how much you admire him, Helen.
HELEN
Oh, no you don't! [_The family is amazed._] Not even he does. Did you
ever hear how he risked his life in battle down in Cuba? Why, he's a
perfect hero of romance!
JOHN
[_mutters_]
Never even saw a war--mollycoddle germ killer!
HELEN
Not in the war with Spain--the war against yellow fever, John.... No
drums to make him brave, no correspondents to make him famous--he merely
rolled up his sleeve and let an innocent-looking mosquito bite him. Then
took notes on his symptoms till he became delirious.... He happened to
be among those who recovered.
[_The family is impressed._
THEODORE
Old-fashioned maidens used to marry their heroes, Helen.
HELEN
[_arising, briskly_]
But this new-fashioned hero gets only two thousand dollars a year,
Theodore.
[_She turns to escape._
JOHN
[_nodding_]
I told you she had sense.
THEODORE
Helen! You selfish, too? Why, Mary and I married on half that, didn't
we, John?
[_He looks around. The family looks away._
HELEN
[_with unintended emphasis_]
Doctor Hamilton needs every cent of that enormous salary--books, travel,
scientific conferences--all the advantages he simply must have if he's
to keep at the top and do his best work for the world. The most selfish
thing a girl can do is to marry a poor man.
[_With that she hurries up the steps._
THEODORE
[_following her_]
All the same, deep down under it all, she has a true woman's yearning
for a home to care for and a mate to love. [_She is silently crying._]
Why, Helen, dear, what's the matter?
HELEN
[_hiding her emotion_]
Oh, why can't they let me _alone_! They make what ought to be the
holiest and most beautiful thing in life the most horrible and
dishonest. They make me hate marriage--hate it!
[_Unseen by HELEN, the BUTLER steps out._
THEODORE
[_patting her shoulder_]
Just you wait till the right one comes along.
BUTLER
[_to LUCY_]
Doctor Hamilton has come, ma'am.
HELEN
[_with an old-fashioned gasp_]
Good heavens!
[_And runs to the family._
LUCY
Show Doctor Hamilton out.
[_The BUTLER goes._
HELEN
A plot to entrap him! [_Running to and fro wildly._] But it's no use!
I'm going ... until he's gone!
[_HELEN runs into the garden._
JUDGE
Fighting hard, poor child.
THEODORE
But what'll we do?
JUDGE
Don't worry--she can't stay away--the sweet thing!
JOHN
Now listen, we must all jolly him up--he'll be shy in these
surroundings.
JUDGE
Going to surrender, John?
JOHN
What I am going to do requires finesse.
LUCY
[_in a flutter, seeing HAMILTON approach_]
Oh, dear! how does one talk to highbrows?
JUDGE
Talk to him about himself! Highbrows, lowbrows, all men love it.
[_ERNEST HAMILTON, discoverer of the Hamilton antitoxin, is a
fine-looking fellow of about thirty-five, without the spectacles
or absent-mindedness somehow expected of scientific genius. He
talks little but very rapidly and sees everything. It does not
occur to him to be shy or embarrassed "in these surroundings"--not
because he is habituated to so much luxury, on three thousand a
year, nor because he despises it; he likes it; but he likes other
things even more. That is why he works for two thousand a year,
instead of working for fat, fashionable fees in private practice._
_JOHN meets his distinguished guest at the door--effusively, yet
with that smiling condescension which wealthy trustees sometimes
show to "scientists, college professors, and that sort of thing."_
JOHN
Ah, Doctor Hamilton! Delighted to see you on my little farm at last. Out
here I'm just a plain, old-fashioned farmer.
[_ERNEST glances about at the magnificence and smiles
imperceptibly. He makes no audible replies to the glad welcome,
but bows urbanely, master of himself and the situation._
LUCY
Doctor Hamilton! So good of you to come.
THEODORE
How are you, Ernest? Glad to see you.
LUCY
I don't think you've met our uncle, Judge Grey.
JUDGE
[_humorously adopting their manner_]
Charmed! I've heard so much about you!--from my niece.
LUCY
[_to ERNEST'S rescue, like a tactful hostess_]
A cup of tea, Doctor Hamilton?
ERNEST
[_unperturbed by the reference to HELEN_]
Thanks.
JOHN
[_while LUCY makes tea. Trustee manner_]
I have often desired to express my admiration of your heroism in the war
against yellow fever in er--ah--_Cuba_, when you let an innocent-looking
mosquito bite you----
LUCY
[_nodding and poising sugar-tongs_]
And then took notes on your symptoms till you became delirious!
ERNEST
No sugar, thanks.
[_He looks from one to another with considerable interest._
JUDGE
No drums to make you famous, no war correspondents to make you brave--I
mean the other way round.
ERNEST
[_to LUCY poising cream pitcher_]
No cream, please.
JOHN
Senator Root says this one triumph alone saves _twenty million dollars
a year_ to the business interests of the United States! I call that true
patriotism.
ERNEST
[_with a nod of assent to LUCY_]
Lemon.
THEODORE
[_with sincerity_]
General Wood says it saves more _human lives_ a year than were lost in
the whole Spanish War! I call it service.
JUDGE
Colonel Goethals says the Panama Canal could not have been built if it
hadn't been for you self-sacrificing scientists. Not only that, but you
have abolished forever from the United States a scourge which for more
than a century had through periodic outbreaks spread terror,
devastation, and death.
[_A pause._
ERNEST
[_bored, but trying to hide it_]
The ones who deserve your praise are the four who died to prove that
theory.... [_He smiles._] Of course, you all know their names.... [_He
looks at JOHN, who looks at JUDGE, who looks at LUCY, who looks at
THEODORE. He takes up his cup._] Delicious tea.
THEODORE
Ah, but they didn't do it for fame, for money--that's the beauty of the
sacrifice.
ERNEST
[_with a smile_]
Quite so.... That's what Congress told us when we suggested a pension
for the widow of the first victim.
ALL
What! Did Congress refuse the pension?
ERNEST
[_finishes his tea_]
They finally voted the sum of seventeen dollars a month for the widow
and no less than two dollars a month extra for each of his children....
LUCY
Is that all?
ERNEST
No.... We pestered Congress to death until, a few years ago, they
replaced the pension with an annuity of one hundred and twenty-five
dollars a month--though some of them said it was a very bad precedent to
establish. [_Returns cup to LUCY._] No more, thanks, delicious.
[_And turns to admire the wide-sweeping view of the farm, hands in
pockets._
JOHN
[_after a pause_]
Well, I think our scientists might well be called philanthropists.
ERNEST
Hardly! You see, every one _knows_ the names of philanthropists....
Better let it go at "scientists."
JUDGE
He's right. Philanthropists don't give their lives, they give their
names--have 'em carved in stone over their institutes and libraries.
[_JOHN approaches and joins his guest._
ERNEST
Charming little farm you have here.
JOHN
Doctor Hamilton, America kills its big men with routine. You are too
valuable to the nation to lose--the trustees think you need a year
abroad.
ERNEST
That's strange, I came out here to suggest that very thing.... Somebody
has been saying kind things about me in Paris. Just had a letter from
the great Metchnikoff--wants me to come over and work in the Pasteur!
Chance of a lifetime!... You didn't have to jolly me up to consent to
that!
JOHN
[_pacing terrace with his guest, arm in arm_]
By the by, my sister is rather keen on science.
ERNEST
Best assistant I ever had. You can pile an awful lot of routine on a
woman. The female of the species is more faithful than the male....
She's over there already. We can get right to work.
JOHN
She'll be back before you start.
ERNEST
[_stops short_]
I didn't know that.... Well, what is it?
[_JOHN hesitates, turns to the family, all watching with breathless
interest._
THEODORE
Don't you see, old chap, under the circumstances it would hardly do for
her to go back to Paris with you.
ERNEST
Why not?
LUCY
You're a man.
ERNEST
[_smiling_]
You mean I'm dangerous?
LUCY
But she's a woman.
JUDGE
They mean _she's_ dangerous.
JOHN
My dear fellow, we are going to ask you quite frankly to decline to take
her.
ERNEST
[_looks about at the circle of anxious faces. He wont let them read
him_]
So that's it, eh?... But it's the chance of a lifetime for her, too. She
needs it more than I do. She's had so little chance to do original work.
JOHN
But she's a woman.
ERNEST
Just what has that to do with it?
JOHN
Everything. We have the highest respect for you, Doctor Hamilton, but
also ... one must respect the opinions of the world, you know.
ERNEST
[_thinks it over_]
That's right. One must. I forgot to think of that.... It's curious, but
when working with women of ability one learns to respect them so much
that one quite loses the habit of insulting them. Too bad how new
conditions spoil fine old customs.... Suppose you let her go and let me
stay. I can find plenty to do here, I fancy.
JOHN
I fear it would offend our generous benefactor, Mr. Baker. He has set
his heart on your going abroad, meeting other big men, getting new ideas
for our great humanitarian work. [_The family exchange glances while
JOHN lies on._] Besides, my sister would only go to accommodate you. She
particularly desires to stay here this winter. That's why she is
returning so soon, you see.
ERNEST
[_believes it_]
Oh, I see.... I'm sure I have no desire to _drag_ her over with me....
[_Smiles at himself._] I rather thought the opportunity to continue our
experiments together ... but that's all right.
JOHN
Then it's all settled--you agree to go alone?
ERNEST
[_a slight pause_]
Yes, alone. It's quite settled.
JOHN
How soon could you start?
ERNEST
[_absently_]
How soon? Why, just as soon as I get some one to run my department.
JOHN
Could my sister run it?
ERNEST
[_smiles_]
Could she run it? It can't run without her! She's as systematic as [_to
LUCY_]--as a good housekeeper.
JOHN
[_with a satisfied look at the others_]
Then _that's_ all fixed! She'll stay when I tell her that you want her
to. Could you arrange to start at once?
ERNEST
[_hesitates_]
By leaving here to-night, I could.
JOHN
[_with a triumphant look at the family_]
Then I'll telephone for your passage--I have a pull with all the
steamship lines. [_Going._] Of course I hate to cut short your week-end,
but I don't want to spoil any scientific careers.
[_JOHN hurries in to telephone. ERNEST starts too, as if to stop
him but restrains the impulse. He stands alone by the door gazing
out over the landscape while LUCY, THEODORE, and the JUDGE discuss
him in low tones by the tea-table._
LUCY
Can't you see, you stupid men! He's crazy about her--but thinks there's
no hope.
THEODORE
When she finds he's leaving for a year ... she'll change her mind about
marriage!
[_ERNEST comes back to earth and to the house-party._
JUDGE
[_to ERNEST, joining them_]
Ahem! We were just discussing the marriage danger--I mean the marriage
problem.
ERNEST
[_with a smile_]
Go right on--don't mind me.
THEODORE
[_old-friend manner_]
See here! When are _you_ ever going to marry?
ERNEST
[_modern bachelor's laugh_]
When am I ever going to get more than two thousand a year?
THEODORE
Bah! what has money got to do with it! Just you wait till the right one
comes along.
[_HELEN comes along, stealing up the steps from the garden on
tiptoe with the grave, absorbed look of a hunter stalking game.
She catches sight of the man she wants and stops short, as
motionless as if frozen. But not so! Her lovely hands were
poised; one of them now goes to her bosom and presses there.
There is nothing icy about this New Woman now._
ERNEST
[_as unconscious of danger as a mountain-lion on an inaccessible height,
smiles easily at his sentimental old friend THEODORE_]
How do you know "the right one" hasn't come already?
[_THEODORE catches sight of HELEN. She shakes her head in silent
pleading, taps a finger on her lips, and in a panic flees
noiselessly across toward the door._
THEODORE
[_suppressing a laugh_]
Then don't let her go by!
[_HELEN stops at the door and makes a face at THEODORE._
ERNEST
[_affecting indifference_]
Oh, I couldn't stop her, even if I wanted to.
THEODORE
[_turning to wink at HELEN_]
How do you know? Did you ever ask her?
ERNEST
To marry me? Oh, no! She hasn't any money.
THEODORE
[_HELEN is dumfounded_]
Money! You wouldn't marry for money!
[_HELEN draws near to hear the answer._
ERNEST
You don't suppose I'd marry a woman who hadn't any? Most selfish thing
a poor man can do.
[_HELEN is interested._
THEODORE
Oh, fiddlesticks! You modern young people--
ERNEST
[_interrupts_]
Make her a sort of superior servant in an inferior home--not that girl!
[_HELEN is pleased._
THEODORE
Feministic nonsense! The old-fashioned womanly woman----
ERNEST
Sentimental twaddle! What makes it more "womanly" to do menial work
_for_ men than intellectual work with them?
[_HELEN delighted, applauds noiselessly._
THEODORE
All the same, I'll bet you wouldn't let a little thing like that stand
in your way if you really cared for a woman enough to marry her.
ERNEST
[_benign and secure_]
But, as it happens, I don't. Nothing could induce me to marry.
[_HELEN raises her chin, her eyes glitter dangerously._
THEODORE
So you are going to run away to Europe like a coward?
ERNEST
[_smiles patronizingly_]
Theodore, you are such an incorrigible idealist! I have nothing to be
afraid of--I simply do not care to _marry_!
HELEN
That's just what _I_ said!
[_All turn and behold HELEN._
ERNEST
My heavens!
[_He steps back like a coward._
HELEN
But I agree with you perfectly. [_She holds out her hand to him._] I was
so afraid you believed in marriage.
[_He rushes to her eagerly._
JUDGE
[_as the lovers shake hands_]
You wronged him. Apologize.
ERNEST
Why--why--all this time, I thought _you_ had the usual attitude.
JUDGE
Wronged _her_. Both apologize.
HELEN
Why didn't you ever tell me you had such enlightened views?
ERNEST
Why didn't you ever tell me?
JUDGE
Each understands the other now. Everything lovely!
HELEN
Think of the discussions we might have had!
JUDGE
Not too late yet. Julia and I had discussions for a quarter of a
century.
HELEN
Don't think I had any hand in this. [_Laughs._] I was going to warn you,
but now--it is unnecessary now.
ERNEST
Warn me? What do you mean?
HELEN
Can't you see? It was all a plot! [_LUCY draws near noiselessly._] A
plot to entrap you in marriage! They had about given me up as a bad
job. _You_ were my last hope. They were going to throw me at your head.
[_Louder but without turning._] Weren't you, Lucy dear?
LUCY
[_caught listening, turns abruptly to the others_]
These New Women are utterly shameless.
HELEN
[_to ERNEST_]
These old-fashioned women are utterly shameless. After a decent
interval, they will all with one accord make excuses to leave us here
alone, so that I can--[_she comes nearer_] ensnare you! [_ERNEST laughs
nervously._] Lucy is going to say--[_imitates LUCY'S sweet tones_]: "If
you'll excuse me, I always take forty winks before dressing." Dressing
is the hardest work Lucy has to do. Cousin Theodore will find that he
_must_ write to his wife, and Uncle Everett will feel a yearning for the
billiard room. [_ERNEST is nodding and chuckling._] They're hanging on
longer than usual to-day, and I simply must have a talk with you.
ERNEST
Our shop-talk would scandalize 'em!
HELEN
Wait, I'll get rid of them!
[_She sits and begins to make tea._
ERNEST
I've had my tea, thanks.
HELEN
Stupid! Sit down. [_Indicates a chair close to hers. He takes it
cautiously._] We'll have a little fun with them in a minute.
[_She is busy now making tea._
THEODORE
[_to LUCY and the JUDGE apart_]
You may be right, Uncle Everett, but upon my word it is the strangest
courtship I ever witnessed.
LUCY
They ought to be spanked.
JUDGE
Don't worry, old Mother Nature will attend to that.
LUCY
Well, I may be old-fashioned, but----
JUDGE
[_interrupting_]
But this is merely a new fashion, my dear Lucy. Nature her ancient
custom holds, let science say what it will.
HELEN
[_handing cup to ERNEST with a glance at the others_]
Now, then, be attentive to me. [_He leans toward her rather shyly,
abashed by her nearness. She makes eyes at him reproachfully._] Oh,
can't you be more attentive than that? [_She acts like a coquette and he
looks into her beautiful eyes and while he is doing so she says with a
fascinating drawl_] Now tell me a-all about anterior poliomyelitis!
ERNEST
[_suddenly taken aback, he laughs_]
Nothing doing since you left.
[_And bends close to explain._
LUCY
If you'll excuse me, Doctor Hamilton, I always take forty winks before
dressing. We dine at eight.
[_Going, she signals to the others. ERNEST and HELEN exchange
smiles._
THEODORE
[_laughing, to LUCY_]
Ss't! Don't tell John what's going on! Keep him busy telephoning. [_LUCY
nods excitedly and almost runs to obey the Church._] Helen, if you and
Ernest will excuse me, I really must write to Mary.
[_Their shoulders are close together and they seem too absorbed
to reply. THEODORE smiles down upon them and signals the JUDGE to
come along. The JUDGE, however, shakes his head but waves THEODORE
into the house. Uncle Everett looks at the lovers with quizzical
interest. He draws near and eavesdrops shamelessly._
HELEN
You oughtn't to have dropped the polio experiments.
ERNEST
You oughtn't to have dropped me--right in the _midst_ of the
experiments. Those agar plates you were incubating dried up and
spoiled. You played the very devil with my data.
JUDGE
God bless my soul! what are we coming to?
HELEN
[_without turning_]
It's perfectly proper for your little ears, uncle, only you can't
understand a word of it. Won't _any_ one play billiards with you?
JUDGE
But I'm fascinated. It's so idyllic. Makes me feel young again.
HELEN
[_to ERNEST_]
Oh, you have plenty of men assistants who can estimate antitoxin units.
ERNEST
Men assistants lose interest. They are all so confoundedly ambitious to
do original work. Why is it women can stand day after day of monotonous
detail better than men?
HELEN
Because men always made them tend the home!
JUDGE
Ah, nothing like a good old-fashioned love scene--in the scientific
spirit.
HELEN
Uncle, dear! _Can't_ you see that he is paying me wonderful compliments?
Haven't you any tact? Go and play Canfield in the library.
JUDGE
[_lighting cigar_]
Very well, I'll leave you to your own devices--and may God, _your_ God,
have mercy on your scientific souls.
HELEN
[_with sudden animation and camaraderie, thinking they are alone_]
Now I must tell you what Doctor Metchnikoff said about you and your
future!
JUDGE
Sst! [_HELEN and ERNEST turn._] My children--[_Pause--raises his
hand._] Don't forget the scientific spirit!
[_The JUDGE saunters off into the garden, smoking._
ERNEST
How did you ever meet Metchnikoff?
HELEN
[_chaffing_]
I had worked under Hamilton! They _all_ wanted to meet me.
ERNEST
[_with an unmistakable look_]
U'm ... was that why? [_Fleeing danger._] Didn't you let them know your
part in that discovery? Why, if it hadn't been for you, I should never
have stumbled upon the thing at all.
HELEN
Oh, I know my place too well for that! Talk about _artistic_
temperament, you scientists are worse than prima donnas.
ERNEST
[_takes printers' proofs out of pocket, hands them to her in silence_]
Some proofs of a monograph I was correcting on the train. Mind
hammering those loose sentences of mine into decent English? You can
write--I can't.
HELEN
[_reading innocently_]
"Recent Experiments in Anterior Poliomyelitis by Ernest Hamilton, M.D.,
Ph.D., and Helen"--what! why, you've put _my_ name with yours!
[_Much excited and delighted._
ERNEST
Well, if you object--like a prima donna----
[_Takes out pencil to mark on proof._
HELEN
[_snatching proofs away_]
Object? Why, this makes my reputation in the scientific world.
ERNEST
Well, didn't you make mine?
HELEN
[_still glowing with pride, but touched by his unexpected generosity_]
You can't imagine what this means to me. It's so hard for a woman to get
any recognition. Most men have but one use for us. If we get interested
in anything but _them_ it is "unwomanly"--they call it "a fad." But
they've _got_ to take me seriously now. My name with Ernest Hamilton's!
[_Points to her name and swaggers back and forth._
ERNEST
[_bantering_]
But then, you see, you are a very exceptional woman. Why, you have a
mind like a man.
HELEN
Like a man? [_Coming close to him, tempting him._] If you had a mind
like a woman you would know better than to say that to me!
[_Re-enter JUDGE from garden. He smiles and glances at them. The
lovers keep quiet as he crosses to the door. Then they look at
each other and smile. JUDGE has gone into the house. It is nearly
dark. The moon is rising._
ERNEST
[_raises eyebrows_]
They all take for granted that I want to make love to you.
[_Smiles but avoids her eyes._
HELEN
[_avoids his_]
Well, you took for granted that I wanted you to!... You are about the
most conceited man I ever knew.
ERNEST
How can I help it when you admire me so?
HELEN
I? Admire you?
ERNEST
You're always telling me what great things I'm going to do--stimulating
me, pushing me along. Why, after you left, everything went slump. Tell
me, why did you leave? Was I rude to you? Did I hurt your feelings?
HELEN
Not in the least. It was entirely out of respect for _your_ feelings.
ERNEST
_My_ feelings? [_Laughing._] Oh, I see. You got it into your head that
_I_ wanted to marry _you_!
HELEN
Men sometimes do.
ERNEST
[_looks away_]
I suppose they do.
HELEN
It's been known to happen.
ERNEST
Talk about conceit! Well, you needn't be afraid! I'll never ask you to
marry _me_.
HELEN
[_turns and looks at him a moment_]
You can't imagine what a weight this takes off my mind.
[_She looks away and sighs._
ERNEST
[_enthusiastically_]
Yes! I feel as if a veil between us had been lifted.
[_He looks away and sighs too. Some one begins "Tristan and
Isolde" on the piano within. The moon is up._
HELEN
[_after a pause_]
Suppose we talk about--our work.
ERNEST
Yes! Our work. Let's drop the other subject. Look at the moon!
[_Music and the moonlight flooding them._
HELEN
Seriously, you promise never to _mention_ the subject again?
[_She keeps her eyes averted._
ERNEST
I promise.
[_He keeps his eyes averted._
HELEN
[_turning to him with a sudden change to girlish enthusiasm_]
Then I'll go to Paris with you!
ERNEST
[_recoils_]
What's that?
HELEN
Why, Doctor Metchnikoff--he promised me he would invite you.
ERNEST
Yes, but--
HELEN
Don't miss the chance of a lifetime!
ERNEST
No, but you--_you_ can't come!
HELEN
[_simply_]
If you need me I can, and you just said----
ERNEST
But you mustn't come to Paris with me!
HELEN
Don't you want me with you?
ERNEST
You are to stay at home and run the department for me.
HELEN
[_stepping back_]
Don't you want me with you?
ERNEST
[_stepping forward, with his heart in voice_]
Do I _want_ you! [_Stops._] But I am a man--you are a woman.
HELEN
What of it? Are you one of those small men who care what people say? No!
That's not your reason! [_She sees that it is not._] What is it? You
must tell me.
ERNEST
[_hesitates_]
It's only for your sake.
HELEN
[_with feeling_]
Think of all I've done for _your_ sake. You wouldn't be going yourself
but for me! I was the one to see you needed it, I proposed it to
Metchnikoff--I urged him--_made_ him ask you--for _your sake_! And now
am I to be left at home like a child because you don't care to be
embarrassed with me?
ERNEST
Oh, please! This is so unfair. But I simply can't take you now.
HELEN
[_with growing scorn_]
Oh! You are all alike. You pile work upon me until I nearly drop, you
play upon my interest, my sympathy--you get all you can out of me--my
youth, my strength, my best! And then, just as I, too, have a chance to
arrive in my profession, you, of all men, throw me over! I hate men. I
hate you!
ERNEST
And I love you!
[_They stare at each other in silence, the moonlight flooding
HELEN'S face, the music coming clear._
HELEN
[_in an awed whisper, stepping back slowly_]
I've done it! I've done it! I _knew_ I'd do it!
ERNEST
No. I did it. Forgive me. I had to do it.
HELEN
Oh, and this spoils everything!
ERNEST
[_comes closer_]
No! It glorifies everything! [_He breaks loose._] I have loved you from
the first day you came and looked up at me for orders. I didn't want you
there; I didn't want any woman there. I tried to tire you out with
overwork but couldn't. I tried to drive you out by rudeness, but you
stayed. And that made me love you more. Oh, I love you! I love you! I
love you!
HELEN
Don't; oh, don't love me!
ERNEST
[_still closer_]
Why, I never knew there could be women like you. I thought women were
merely something to be wanted and worshipped, petted and patronized. But
now--why, I love everything about you: your wonderful, brave eyes that
face the naked facts of life and are not ashamed; those beautiful hands
that toiled so long, so well, so close to mine and not afraid, not
afraid!
HELEN
You mustn't! I _am_ afraid now! I made you say it. [_Smiling and
crying._] I have always wanted to make you say it. I have always
sworn you shouldn't.
ERNEST
[_pained_]
Because you cannot care enough?
HELEN
Enough?... Too much.
ERNEST
[_overwhelmed_]
You--love--me!
[_He takes her in his arms, a silent embrace with only the bland
blase moon looking on._
HELEN
It is because I love you that I didn't want you to say it--only I did.
It is because I love you that I went abroad--to stay, only I couldn't! I
couldn't stay away! [_She holds his face in her hands._] Oh, do you know
how I love you? No!... you're only a _man_!
ERNEST
[_kissing her rapturously_]
Every day there in the laboratory, when you in your apron--that dear
apron which I stole from your locker when you left me--when you asked
for orders--did you know that I wanted to say: "Love me"! Every day when
you took up your work, did you never guess that I wanted to take you up
in my arms?
HELEN
[_smiling up into his face_]
Why didn't you?
ERNEST
Thank God I didn't! For while we worked there together I came to know
you as few men ever know the women they desire. Woman can be more than
sex, as man is more than sex. And all this makes man and woman not less
but more _overwhelmingly_ desirable and necessary to each other, and
makes both things last--not for a few years, but forever!
[_Sound of voices approaching from the garden. The lovers
separate. It is JEAN and REX, REX laughing, JEAN dodging until
caught and kissed._
JEAN
No, no--it's time to dress.... Be good, Rex--don't!
[_Without seeing HELEN and ERNEST, they disappear into the house.
HELEN is suddenly changed, as if awakened from a spell of
enchantment._
HELEN
What have we done! This is all moonlight and madness. To-morrow comes
the clear light of day.
ERNEST
Ah, but we'll love each other to-morrow!
HELEN
But we cannot marry--then or any other to-morrow.
ERNEST
Can't? What nonsense!
HELEN
[_shaking her head and restraining him_]
I have slaved for you all these months--not because I wanted to win you
from your work but to help you in it. And now--after all--shall I
destroy you? No! No!
ERNEST
I _love_ you--you love _me_--nothing else matters.
HELEN
Everything else matters. I'm not a little debutante to be persuaded that
I am needed because I am wanted! I haven't _played_ with you; I have
_worked_ with you, and I _know_! Think of Theodore! Think of Lucy! And
now poor little Jean. Marry you? Never!
ERNEST
You mean your career?
HELEN
[_with supreme scorn_]
_My_ career? No! yours--always yours!
ERNEST
[_with the same scorn and a snap of the fingers_]
Then _that_ for my career. I'll go back into private practice and make a
million.
HELEN
That's just what I said you'd do. Just what you must not do! Your work
is needed by the world.
ERNEST
[_wooing_]
You are my world and I need you.... But there is no love without
marriage, no marriage without money.... We can take it or leave it. Can
we leave it? No! I can't--you can't! Come! [_She steps back slowly._]
Why should we sacrifice the best! Come!
HELEN
So _this_ is what marriage means! Then I _cannot_ marry you, Ernest!
ERNEST
You cannot do without me, Helen! [_Holds out his arms._] Come! You have
been in my arms once. You and I can never forget that now. We can never
go back now. It's all--or nothing now. Come! [_She is struggling against
her passion. He stands still, with arms held out._] I shall not woo you
against your will, but you are coming to me! Because, by all the powers
of earth and heaven, you are mine and I am yours! Come!
[_Like a homing pigeon she darts into his arms with a gasp of joy.
A rapturous embrace in silence with the moonlight streaming down
upon them. The music has stopped._
_JOHN, dressed for dinner, strolls out upon the terrace. He stops
abruptly upon discovering them. The lovers are too absorbed to be
aware of his presence._