V EIGHT COMEDIES FOR LITTLE THEATRES Plays By PERCIVAL WILDE DAWN and Other One-Act Plays of Life Today. Dawn The Noble Lord The Traitor A House of Cards Playing With Fire The Finger of God. CONFESSIONAL and Other American Plays. Confessional The Fillain in the Piece Ac cording to Darwin A Question of Morality The Beautiful Story. THE UNSEEN HOST and Other War Plays. The Unseen Host Mothers of M en Pawns In the Ravine Valkyrie ! EIGHT COMEDIES FOR LITTLE THEATRES. The Sequel The Previous Engagement The Dyspeptic Ogre In the Net A Wonderful Woman Catesby His Return Embryo. In Preparation: THE ONE-ACT PLAY: ITS TECHNIQUE. A Manual. THE INN OF DISCONTENT and Other Fantastic Plays. EIGHT COMEDIES FOR LITTLE THEATRES BY PERCIVAL WILDE BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1922 Copyright, 1914, 1920, 1921, 1922, BY PERCIVAL WILDE. reserved, including that of translation ^nto foreign languages ,. . ** * * * -i v """ Published May, 1922 These plays, in their printed form, are designed for the reading public only. All dramatic, motion-picture, and other rights in them are fully protected by copyright in the United States and Great Britain, and no performance professional or amateur may be given without the written permission of the author, and the payment of royalty. Communications may be addressed to the author in care of Little, Brown & Co., 34 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA & TO MY WIFE CONTENTS PAGE THE SEQUEL 1 THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT 23 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 35 IN THE NET 69 A WONDERFUL WOMAN 89 I CATESBY 119 His RETURN 133 EMBRYO 151 NOTES ON THE PLAYS 173 THE SEQUEL A COMEDY Opus bl CHARACTERS HE SHE THE BUTLER HORROCKS, INC. Copyright, 1920, BY PERCIVAL WILDE. THE SEQUEL PROLOGUE \_Spoken by any man who can wear full dress becom ingly, generally The Butler. Do you recall the situation on which the curtain has fallen thousands of times in thousands of well- regulated dramas? Do you remember how they faced each other, and how there were tears in his eyes or her eyes or their eyes? Do you mentally picture how he or she or they brushed the above-men tioned tears away? Or let them remain where they were? And how she whispered, "Yes, Jack" or "Yes, William" or "Yes, Eliphalet " as the case might have been? Or sometimes only plain "Yes?" And how he, with the expertness gained by many rehearsals, gathered her into his arms, and printed a kiss on her brow or her cheek or her hair or behind her ear but only in the rarest of instances on her lips? And how the happy pair, now forever united until the next performance stood looking out over the footlights, estimating the box-office receipts and the amount of paper in the house, until the curtain fell, and the thoughts of the audience turned to the inner man? And then? What happens next? There are inquisi tive souls who ask that question. Will they live happily ever afterward? Or will the matrimonial bark THE SEQUEL encounter one of the many obstacles which somehow have been forgotten? The dramatist, looking upon marriage, or its forerunner, engagement, as the end of all things, neglects to tell us. Starting with a variable number of eligible young persons of opposite sex, he has paired them off in such combinations as his ex perience tells him will be pleasing to the magnate who produces the play, to the temperamental ladies and gentlemen who condescend to act in it, and, last and most important, to that source from which all royalties flow, that unaccountable, irresponsible, conscienceless creature, the audience. To the very portals of marriage he travels with his charges, but there he leaves them, to act as guide, philosopher, friend to others following in their footsteps. And then? Perhaps they do not live happily ever after. Perhaps she is extravagant, or he smokes in the parlor. Or he repents his rashness in recanting bachelorhood, and she reflects, as his faults become plain to her, that she might have done better. And they do not increase and multiply, and are unhappy, and so come to furnish material for another play. But of the time between? Of the time immediately after she has said "Yes" and before she has begun to say "No?" [The person who has spoken the prologue bows and retires. The curtain rises. It is early evening, and they are in the parlor of her house. There are heavy tapestries at the doors and perfectly opaque hangings at the windows which is satisfactory, for even in th * subdued light neither would welcome the inspection o a third person. THE SEQUEL HE (interrupting his embrace for an instant to hold her off at arms length and look into her eyes) Milly! SHE (blushing prettily) Jack! [They embrace again. HE (after a pause) So so you re going to many me! SHE Yes, Jack. (She looks up at him shyly) Isn t it wonderful? (He nods) To think that we two just we two (He kisses her again. There is another pause) Come (she draws him to a sofa), we have so much to say to each other! Isn t that so? [He is a little uneasy; even embarrassed. It is easy to see that sentiment is not his forte. On the other hand, she is absolutely at home. She has spent a considerable portion of her twenty-odd years looking forward to this moment. Now that it has come she is completely mistress of the situation. He seats himself on the sofa a little gingerly not that he is afraid of hurting the sofa, but because his entire attitude, now that the worst is over, has become distinctly timid; because some sixth sense warns him that he will not appear to his best advantage in the nonsensical half- hour which is to follow, and which by no possible device may be avoided. Once seated he recalls his duty sufficiently to put his arms round her in rather a clumsy fashion. She, however, is not satisfied, and releasing his clasp, rises with delicious abandon \Jl8 herself on his lap. There is a further THE SEQUEL HE Are you comfortable dear? SHE Perfectly ! Perfectly ! (She closes her eyes contentedly. He, rather relieved that he no longer has to meet them, looks at her sharply. She is rather a winsome bit of femininity, whether he knows it or not. She puts her lips close to his ear) Jack! HE (starting) Yes? (Correcting himself) Yes, dear? SHE Now that we are alone we are alone, aren t we? HE Of course. [He looks round nervously. SHE There is one thing I want you to tell me. HE Yes? SHE Jack, when did you begin to love me? HE (flushing uncomfortably) Well SHE (closing her eyes in anticipation) Yes? HE When I began to love you? SHE Yes. HE (plunging in) Well, I think it was the first time I met you. THE SEQUEL SHE (sitting bolt upright in surprise) Jack! You don t mean it! HE I am quite sure. It was in December, a year ago. SHE (surprised) What? HE (holding his ground) Just after Christmas. SHE But that wasn t the first time I met you! It was long before that! HE Was it? SHE (a little disappointed) Didn t you know it? It was at Barton s house party, Jack. HE Oh. (After a pause, ivith a sickly smile) Barton s house party. So it was! SHE And then the second time (sinking back into his arms) When was it, Jack? HE The second time? SHE Yes. HE The time after Barton s? SHE Yes, Jack. HE (thinking desperately, then turning on her suddenly) Don t you know? 8 THE SEQUEL SHE Of course I know. (She sits up slowly) You don t mean to say you ve forgotten that also? HE I m sorry. SHE (indignantly) Sorry? HE I m absent-minded, you know. SHE And you loved me from the first time we met! (She rises in vexation) Oh! And I thought every thing would be so different! HE (also rising) Now, Milly, don t get angry. SHE (coming back to him) I m not angry, Jack. I m hurt just hurt. HE (putting his arms round her) I made a mistake, that s all. I thought the first " time was later on. SHE In December? HE Yes. SHE Where? HE Eh? SHE Where did we meet in December, Jack? Just after Christmas? THE SEQUEL 9 HE It s on the tip of my tongue. SHE (waiting impatiently) Well? HE (triumphantly) At Phelps ! It was at Phelps ! You see, I know, Milly! Am I right? SHE (capitulating) Yes, Jack. -lA^T} \ HE That was the time ! Father was there too. You see, I remember! You made a hit with him. Coming home together he said, "Jack, that s an awfully nice young woman. I d like you to know her better." SHE He said that about me? HE (nodding emphatically) Why, that wasn t a marker to the rest of the things he said! SHE Oh. HE You see (with a vapid smile), father s been wanting to get me married off for years. SHE (horrified) Oh! HE (slopping as if shot) I haven t said anything wrong, have I? SHE Wrong? No. Oh, no! (She smiles ttith an effort) Go on, Jack. 10 THE SEQUEL HE (suspicious) Look here! I m not offending you SHE (interrupting) Offending? When we haven t been engaged an hour? HE (not entirely reassured) Father told me to be careful what I said to-night. SHE With your future wife, Jack? Careful? HE (nodding soberly) He said that if I was in any doubt I should talk about him. SHE Oh! (She smiles sweetly) Go on, Jack. HE What? SHE Talk about him. HE (after an irresolute pause) Well, father s a great man. You know that. SHE Everybody knows it, Jack. HE Of course! Father owns the biggest department store in town. Why, he started the department- store idea! There were no department stores before father. SHE (lackadaisically) How intensely thrilling! HE His first store have you ever seen a picture of it? SHE No. THE SEQUEL 11 HE It wasn t as large as this room. And to-day there are more than three thousand people working for Horrocks, Incorporated! (He pauses. She waits for him to continue) Father has to have some one to carry on the business after him, and it would break his heart to have it go out of the family. He wants me to grow into his boots. SHE (settling herself comfortably; not, however, on his lap) And is that why he wanted you to be married? HE (smiling) Indirectly, yes. - SHE I don t understand, Jack. IttcW&U^Ct HE You see, a man s so much steadier when he s got a wife. SHE (thoughtfully) Y-e-s. [There is a pause. HE Well, I have to be going. [He rises. SHE Already? HE Father ll be waiting. SHE (looking at him in open-eyed astonishment) What do you mean? HE He ll want to know what happened. THE SEQUEL SHE (trying to grasp the idea) What happened? HE Whether you said yes or no. SHE (with sudden comprehension) Oh! So he knew you were going to ask me? HE Of course! SHE You told him? HE (hesitantly) . SHE (furiously) You had the aud --- (With hardly a break she continues in the most honeyed tones) or perhaps he told you? (Delilahlike slic throws her arms about his neck) Come, fess up! HE (with a broad smile) Well, he said: "If you haven t asked her before morning - (He pauses) SHE (encouragingly) Yes? HE (laughing) He said, " - you can go to work for ten dollars a week." SHE So you asked her? HE (with a guffaw) Well, what do you think? SHE And you knew she d accept? THE SEQUEL 13 HE (chuckling) We-ell SHE (mimicking him) \Ve-ell HE I wasn t sure. SHE No? HE But father was! SHE (flinging him off) You little beast! HE (surprised) Milly! Now I haven t offended you again, have I? SHE Offended me! Ha! HE It s only my way of talking. I don t mean anything by it SHE (interrupting) No; I didn t think so. r I [She flounces off to the end of the room. - * c ** v ^ HE Now, Milly! [There is a pause. Then she returns, with her feelings under control again. SHE I was only fooling, Jack. Tell me more about it. HE Not if you re so touchy, Milly. SHE Touchy? No. I m just a little excited, that s all. 14 THE SEQUEL Don t you think any girl would be if she knew she was going to marry the son of Horrocks, Incorpo rated? HE (after an uncertain pause) Father s waiting for me. SHE Let him wait. It s only ten. HE (shaking his head vigorously) Father likes to get to bed early. You see, he s always at the store when it opens; makes it a point to be the first one down. SHE But to-night, Jack he won t mind staying up a little later to-night. (As he dissents) You have only a block to go. HE (hesitantly) I don t know. Father said SHE (interrupting) We ll write him a note, Jack. HE A note? SHE < Explain matters. I ll send it round with the butler. HE Father mightn t like it. SHE He ll have to give in to me this once! (She has already seated herself at a writing table) He ll be up, won t he? HE (gloomily) You bet he will! At any rate, till I get home. 15 SHE Ring the bell for Robert. [He does so, and remains at the door watching her. HE What are you writing? SHE (rismg with the note and folding it) Finished already! HE It can t be very long. SHE It doesn t have to be dear. [She slips the note into its envelope. THE BUTLER (appearing in the doorway) Yes, miss? SHE (handing him the note) Take this right over to Mr. Horrocks. Take it over yourself. THE BUTLER Yes, miss. Any answer? SHE No. Just give it to Mr. Horrocks himself. And hurry, Robert. [The butler goes. HE (uneasily) I don t know how he ll like it. SHE Leave it to me, Jack. Come, sit down. (She puts her hand over his lips as he tries to speak) Just think; all the questions I m dying to ask you! HE Questions ? What questions ? 16 CHE SEQUEIj SHE You re not afraid to answer me, are you? HE (with a dismal attempt at humor) I thought that didn t come till you were married. SHE That s still some distance away, Jack. (She looks at him keenly) You re twenty-six, aren t you? (He nods) And your father s been anxious to have you married? HE Ever since I left college. SHE Oh. (She pauses an instant; then, making a shrewd guess) Jack, what is her name? HE What do you mean? SHE You know what I mean. HE (slowly comprehending, shocked) Milly! That s nothing for you! SHE But I m engaged, Jack. And engaged girls can discuss all kinds of subjects. (As he shakes his head) But they do! Particularly with their fiances. (He is unconvinced) Jack, if we can t have full confidence in each other now [She breaks off. HE (after a pause) Who told you? SHE (concealing her triumph) That s not a fair question. THE SEQUEL 17 HE Why not? SHE Oh, the things that girls talk about [She waves her hand vaguely. HE (interested) Yes? SHE (irith a happy inspiration) The things that married men tell their wives HE Oh. SHE And the wives tell their sisters, and the sisters tell then- best friends, and the best friends tell every body else. Women can t keep secrets you know that. HE Yes. SHE (after a judicious pause, quite casually) What show is she with now, Jack? HE (thoughtlessly) She s not working just now. [Suddenly recollecting, he bends a suspicious glance on her, but her expression is innocence itself. SHE (addressing her remarks to the ceiling) Such a pity! (She pauses; he is still watching her) She has talent; there s no doubt of that. HE How do you know that if you don t know her name? SHE (bluffing desperately) Why, I ve seen her! 18 THE SEQUEL HE (incredulously) Seen her? SHE (meeting his glance naively) She was the fourth from the right, wasn t she? HE No; the second. [Still uneasy, he pauses again. SHE You see, I know. HE And you don t feel differently toward me on account of it? SHE (laughing) Differently? How absurd, Jack! I never thought you were an angel. HE (quite reassured) She s a lady a real lady much too good for that sort of thing. . SHE I could see that from where I was sitting. HE Her real name s Eliza, but she calls herself Corinne. SHE I don t blame her. Corinne is a pretty name. (With a covert look at him) And she s just as good-hearted as she s beautiful, isn t she, Jack? HE How did you know? SHE (proceeding fluently) She has talent real talent only they haven t recognized it yet. But they re going to some day! THE SEQUEL 19 All she needs is a chance to make good ! And you re going to see that she gets it, aren t you, Jack? HE (enthusiastically) You bet I am! SHE (nodding sagely) She s been unfortunate, but she s a lady through it all. And no affectation, no airs about her. She s an awfully good little sport a real pal ! Only your father can t see it that way. HE (astonished) Did he tell you about her? SHE (without answering) That was why he was so anxious to get you married. He wanted you safe away from her. HE You knew all along? SHE And never let on! HE (delightedly) Well! Well! I can hardly believe it! SHE I wanted you to tell me. HE (with real enthusiasm) Say, we re going to get along! SHE Aren t we though? HE Milly, you re a good little sport yourself! SHE Do you really think so? HE I never would have believed it of you! 20 THE SEQUEL SHE Thanks. Thanks, Jack. And do you want to know something else? I m not even going to make you give her up. HE (astonished) What? SHE Spoil a beautiful friendship? No, Jack. I m not like your father. I know what it means to you. I appreciate such things. HE Milly! SHE Are you shocked? HE Do you mean it? Do you honestly mean it? \_She tries to answer, but it is too much for her sense of humor. She bursts into almost hysterical laughter. HE (rising anxiously) Milly! SHE (between spasms) You don t understand me, do you, Jack? But your father will! You can be sure of that! (He watches her in absolute mystification) Because he s coming here, Jack! I am expecting him at any moment. HE (thunderstruck) Coming here? Is that what you wrote? You didn t have the nerve! SHE But I did, Jack! HE You shouldn t have done it! He ll be angry. Good THE SEQUEL 21 Lord, he ll be angry ! He never goes out at this time of night! Hasn t for years! SHE Listen ! [Footsteps hurried footsteps are heard ascending the stairs, and THE BUTLER, not the sedate, punctilious butler of a few minutes ago, but a panting, very much frightened butler, who has not even paused to remove his hat and coat, stands in the doorway. THE BUTLER (announcing hastily) Mr. Horrocks! [There is a rush. The Butter is swept aside and Horrocks, Inc., stands in his place. And Horrocks, Inc., is angry, angry with capital letters, angrier than either he or anybody else has been before. The small eyes of the department-store genius dart lightnings, his hands tremble, his lips move, but no words known to the English language issue from them. Yet he is a mass of sounds explosive sounds, sibilant sounds, rumbling sounds; such sounds as might come from a small volcano imme diately before the eruption: such sounds as might result were an intoxicated Zulu, holding a spoonful of hot mush in his mouth the while, to attempt a Russian folk-song set to music by Claude Debussy. Were an artist present he might ask Horrocks, Inc., to pose as the God of Anger. And, most disrespectfully, Miily continues to laugh still more hysterically than ever. HE (petrified with terror) Father! [Horrocks, Inc., rushes at him as if he would brain him. But the clenched fist stops under the young man s nose, and, for the first time, one notices that it brandishes a crumpled sheet of paper. THE SEQUEL HE (taking it, panic-stricken) Wh-what she wrote you? [Horrocks, Inc., assents with frightful noises. HE (backing away) May I read it? [Horrocks, Inc., assents as before. More than that, his terrific gestures indicate that he emphatically desires the young man to read it to read it aloud. HE (still retreating from the impending destruction) "Dear Mister Department Store " (With in credulous appeal) You wrote that, Milly? HORROCKS, INC. (at length forming intelligible words) Go on! Go on! HE "Please call for goods to be returned." [Horror-stricken, he turns to the spot where, an instant ago, Milly was standing. But she has vanished. The Butler, too, has fled. And squarely between himself and the door stands the fearful figure of Horrocks, Inc. THE CURTAIN FALLS GENTLY THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT A COMEDY IN ONE ACT FOR ONE PERSON THE CHARACTER ULYSSES GRANT HOLLISTEB Copyright, 19U, BY PERCIVAL WILDE. New material added and Copyright, 1922, BY PERCIVAL WILDE. THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT In one of his writings Mr. Henry Arthur Jones speaks of the difficulty of avoiding the soliloquy. This comedy is a more or less flippant demonstration of some of the ways in which this may be accomplished. The living room of a modestly furnished bachelor s apartment in a not too fashionable apartment house. As is customary in such buildings, an interior telephone, communicating with the outside world through the medium of the apartment switchboard, is fastened to the wall. And the occupant, rather extravagantly, has had a direct line telephone installed besides, and this instrument rests an a table. At the rear, a door opens on a hallway. At the right, another door opens into the bedroom. A third door, at the left, leads into a kitchenette, an excessively diminutive room almost entirely filled by the range. Next to the door of the kitchenette is the opening of the dumb-waiter, which, at intervals, can be heard making noisy trips up and down. In the main room, a large grandfather s clock, not running, as seen by the stationary pendulum, indicates five o clock. The bright sunshine through the little window tucked into the left corner, the general quiet of the day, and an occasional sound of church bells in the distance go to show that it is Sunday morning. There is a pause. The occupant is asleep in his bed- 26 THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT room, and a raucous snore is audible. Then, without warning, the dumb-waiter rope commences to lash the sides of the shaft vigorously and loudly. The snoring ceases, and the tenant, wearing a flowered dressing gown over a suit of pyjamas, enters from the right. He is thirty-one or two, and by no means a bad looking chap. And he yawns prodigiously as he pushes his tousled hair out of his eyes and opens the door to the dumb-waiter. HOLLISTER All right, all right ! I heard you. Send up the things. (The dumb-waiter rattles, and he produces two eggs and a quart of milk. He inspects the eggs carefully; then returns to the shaft) Hello! You there? Are those eggs the biggest you ve got? (A pause) I don t believe those eggs were ever near a hen! They re humming-bird s eggs, that s what they are! (He closes the door of the dumb waiter shaft noisily, and crosses to the rear door, which he opens. Between his door and the door of his neigh bor s apartment, is a heap of Sunday newspapers. He selects his own, and, in the act of reentering his room, pauses to listen to his neighbor s movements) George! (He raps on the door) Are you up, George? . . . George, you re a pretty good skate, aren t you? . . . Well, have you any idea what s good for the morning after? (He listens) Oh, you know I never drink, but last night was different. There was a reason for it. (He listens again) No; no wine. Just whiskey. About five times three fingers. That was enough; more than enough! You know I m not used to it. (A large collie comes barking down the hall- THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT 27 way. He interrupts his conversation to "shoo" the dog into his room) Get in there, Buster! . . . What did you say, George? (He smiles broadly) Well, to tell the truth, I needed my nerve last night: all the nerve I had, and just a little bit more. That s why I did it. ... What s that? . . . Yes. . . . Yes. . . . Thanks. You re sure that ll fix me up? . . Yes? Well, there s no harm in trying it. Thanks, George. (He reenters the room, closes the door, and goes directly to the interior telephone) Hello! Who s at the switchboard? Julius? Well, Julius, go around the corner and get a bottle of ginger ale domestic ginger ale and two limes. . . . Yes, limes. Send them up on the dumb-waiter. (He hangs up the receiver, but takes it off again as an afterthought strikes him) Wait a minute, Julius! What time is it? . . . You don t really mean it ! . . . That so? Thanks. (He hangs up, crosses slowly to the clock, and turns the hands to eleven thirty-five. The clock strikes three. He looks at it in an instant s confusion, then shakes his head, and sinks painfully into a chair. The dog, wagging his tail furiously, rushes to him. The young man takes the dog s head between his hands, and addresses him seriously) Buster, I m a chump! You didn t know that, did you, Buster? (The dog wags his tail, but gives no other sign of assent) Well, I am! I didn t have the nerve to propose to a girl last night, even though I knew she d have me; even though I knew that the moment I said, "Will you marry me?" she d throw her arms around my neck and nearly strangle me! I got as far as her door, and then then 28 THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT I thought of her sitting in there on the sofa, with a sort of expectant look on her face, and the lights low, and and my knees began to shiver, and I thought I d better have a drink first. So I had the drink whiskey plain whiskey, mind you, with nothing intoxicating mixed in it! Then I came back, and I didn t feel a bit better! not a bit better than before! I didn t have the nerve to propose to a lamp-post ! So I had another drink plain whiskey and it didn t seem to help; so I took another; and another; and still another quite a flock of drinks until I began to lose count. (He pauses tragically) Well, you know I m not used to drinking, Buster, and after half an hour of it I had enough nerve to pro pose to the Queen of England! So I marched out, head up in the air, shoulders thrown back, and I was going to ask her to marry me, just like that! Not the Queen of England: the girl, you know. I remember that very well. But when I wanted to find her door again, I couldn t! I couldn t find her door, Buster! And it s really not a very hard door to find! (He smiles reminiscently) That s about the last thing I remember, Buster. I stood there in the street, and I reasoned the thing out for myself. I decided she must have moved must have moved right after I took that second drink. I remember I said to myself "This is so sudden!" you know, her moving like that. (He pauses,, and raises his hands to his head unth a groan) Buster, it s all a blank after that! all a blank! I might have murdered somebody on the way home THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT 29 I don t know. I had nerve enough to do anything. I was full of nerve! Proposing would have been a cinch! But I couldn t find the girl! I couldn t find the girl! (The dumb-waiter rope rattles. He goes to it, appearing an instant later with the ginger ale, which he proceeds to pour into a glass, and the limes, which he crushes into it. He drinks it slowly) Awful stuff, Buster; awful. But it s good for Daddy. Here s to her! (He tosses of what is left in the glass, and searches among a large number of photographs which decorate the center table) This is her picture, Buster. Buster, this is Miss Ed munds. Grace, this is Buster. (He shakes the dog s paw gravely) Grace Edmunds isn t that a pretty name? But Grace Edmunds Hollister is prettier, isn t it? If I ever have the nerve to ask her! [From some nearby apartment come the strains of the "Toreador Song," atrociously rendered on a broken- winded phonograph. He listens, humming the air, but suddenly breaks off to bring his fist into his palm with a resounding thump. Say, Buster! (He disappears into the next room, re turning in an instant with an old-fashioned cylindrical- record phonograph) First aid to cowards, Buster! (He sits at the table and writes hurriedly) Buster, how do you spell "tendency?" "\Yith an "a" or with an "e"? (He smiles) But it really doesn t matter, does it? (He reads over what he has written, sets the phonograph going, clears his throat impressively, and speaks into the horn) Grace may I call you Miss Edmunds? No! You know what I mean : Miss Edmunds may I call 30 THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT you Grace? I am thirty-one years old, high-school education, perfectly healthy, except for a tendency to water on the knee; I have a good position, good prospects, no relatives living, can support a wife, belong to the Baptist Church, and love you! Will you marry me? Respectfully yours, Ulysses Grant Hollister. (Stopping the phonograph) How s that, Buster? (He resets the instrument: starts it going again) THE PHONOGRAPH A-hem! A-hem! HOLLISTER (interrupting) I never said that! THE PHONOGRAPH Grace may I call you Miss Edmunds? No! You know what I mean : Miss Edmunds, may I call you Grace? I am thirty-one years old, high-school edu cation, perfectly healthy, except for a tendency to water on the knee; I have a good position, good prospects, no relatives living, can support a wife, belong to the Baptist Church, and love you ! Will you marry me? Respectfully yours, Ulysses Grant Hollister. How s that, Buster? HOLLISTER Fine! (He allows the machine to run a few seconds longer. Then, very expressively) Thank you, dearest ! I knew you would ! (He stops the phonograph, fastens on the wooden top, and goes to the interior telephone) Hello! Hello! . . . Julius, I m sending a phonograph down on the dumb-waiter. . . . What? . . . A phon ograph: a talking machine. I want you to take it right around to Miss Edmunds. ... Yes; of course THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT 31 you know where she lives: I ve sent you there before. . . . Give it to Miss Edmunds herself: nobody else will do, and tell her to play the record right away. . . . Yes, the moment she gets it. What? . . . Does she like music? (smiling happily) Well, she ll like this selection! . . . No; it s not grand opera: it s something better. Live and learn, Julius; live and learn. (An afterthought) I m send ing down half a dollar for you, Julius. Keep it. (He hangs up, waltzes gaily to the table with the phono graph, and deposits it on the dumb-waiter) Don t drop it, Julius! (He sits, and takes the dog s head between his knees) Were you ever in love, Buster? Well, try it! It s great! (He pauses) Julius is just starting now. (He walks the length of the room twice, very deliberately) Now he s reached her door. (In dumb show, he times Juliu-s* jjiovements. He climbs imaginary steps; rings an imaginary doorbell; waits; shifts an imaginary phonograph from one hand to another; rings the bell again. Finally the imaginary door is opened. He explains his errand to the maid; declines to give her the phonograph; will give it to Miss Edmimds personally; waits in anticipation. Enter Miss Edmunds. He bows and scrapes; delivers the imaginary phonograph and message; grins; exits, descending the imaginary flight of steps after closing the imaginary door) Now she s got it! (A pause, accompanied with suitable dm7ib show) She s- playing it! Will she say "Yes?" (He leans over and picks objects from the dog"s pelt) She loves me; she loves me not; she loves me; she loves me not; she loves (breaking of) This 32 THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT would take too long, Buster. (He takes up the photo graph) Allow me to introduce the future Mrs. Hollister! (He waits at the telephone) Getting im patient, boy? Well, so am I! Now, all together! One! Two! Three! (The interior telephone rings sharply) Ah! (He takes down the receiver) Hello! Julius not back yet? No? . . . Well, what do you want? (He turns to the dog) A lady to speak to me? Who is it? .. . Eh? I expect it? She says I expect the call? Put her on. (He does a war-dance at the receiver) Hello! . . . Yes, right here, dearest. . . . Dear est! ... What? . . . You were surprised? Well, I don t wonder! Most any girl would have been surprised under the circumstances! . . . You must have thought I was crazy! . . . Ha! Ha! You did? . . . (In immense surprise) What? . . .What? You you thought I had been drinking? How could you tell? (Utterly bewildered) Oh, of course I remember, but tell me about it again. . . . Yes, I like to hear it. ... Eh? ... I dashed into your house dashed into your house last night? . . . Yes, I hear you quite plainly. ... I asked you to marry me? ... I kissed you twice? . . . Cer tainly! I wouldn t forget that! How could I? ... And then? ... I gave you a ring and I rushed out again? . . . Well, I m jiggered! (He turns to the dog) Buster, she accepted me last night, and I didn t know it! (Turning again to the telephone) Yes, dearest? . . . Oh, I can t tell you how much! . . . More than that! . . . Oh, much more than that! Why, I love you more than . . . (The second tele- THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT 33 phone rings) I love you more than . . . (The tele phone continues to ring) Just hold the wire a minute! (He takes up the second telephone) Hello! What? Who is this? (Thunderstruck) Grace? But it can t be Grace! . . . What? . . . (With sudden coolness) All right, I won t call you by your first name if you don t want me to. ... Yes, I sent it. I sent the phonograph. . . . No: no: it wasnt a fool thing to do (Emphati cally) I say it wasn t a f ool thing to do ! . . . What? You were never so humiliated in your life? What do you mean? . . . (After a ghastly pause) Well, how was I to know that you would set the darned thing going before a roomful of people? (Indignantly) I thought you d have more sense than that ! . . . (In terrupting) I m not impertinent ! . . . But look here, Grace . . . yes, Miss Edmunds . . . I m listening: yes, listening. . . . What? ... to -me? . . . (With sudden craftiness) If I don t apologize apolo gize humbly you ll never speak to me again as long as you live? (Looking at the other telephone) Hold the wire! . . . Just hold the wire a minute! (He rises, takes up the collection of photographs, and de posits one next to the telephone over which Grace has been talking. He approaches the other telephone, and examines the remaining photographs. He is absolutely unable to select the proper one. He hesitates: the un certainty is awful. Then, resolutely, he takes up the first receiver) Hello! . . . Yes, dearest. Only a business call. . . . No, not important, but it s a nuisance, isn t it? (He listens) Oh, I can t begin to tell you! ... I 4 THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT love everything about you! Your eyes! Your lips! Your hair! (With trepidation) Even even your name! . . . Yes, I love it! (Violently agitated) Let me hear you say it yourself! . . . Yes. . . . What? . . . Oh, it s a whim of mine, but I love to hear you say it! ... Yes? . . . (He listens with fearful anxiety. Then, with sudden and overwhelming relief, surprise, joy:) Ethel! (In the wildest of raptures) That s the best news I ve heard in many a day! . . . Oh, don t mind what I m saying. I m excited. . . . Listen: listen, Ethel darling: I ll be over in five minutes! . . . You ll be ready? . . . Fine ! Goodby , dearest ! (He hangs up, rises, selects one of the photographs in his hand with obvious satisfaction. The others he throws away contemptu ously. His eye lights on the other telephone. He grins; takes up Grace s picture; compares it with Ethel s to Grace s obvious disadvantage. Then, in the most leisurely manner, he seats himself at Grace s telephone) Hello! Miss Edmunds? . . . You re waiting for me to apologize? . . . Well, I do apologize. I apol ogize most humbly. I made a mistake. . . .(There is an appreciable pause) No; not to-day. . . . nor to-morrow . . . nor the next day. You see, I m dated up for some time to come. [He pitches her picture into the wastebasket. THE CURTAIN FALLS THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE A MODERNIZED FAIRY PLAY Opiu67 CHARACTERS THE OGRE THE OGRE S COOK FRANCES THE MONDAY DINNER THE TUESDAY DINNER THE WEDNESDAY DINNER THE THURSDAY DINNER THE FRIDAY DINNER THE SATURDAY DINNER THE SUNDAY DINNER THE PRINCIPAL BOY SCOUT THE OTHER BOY SCOUTS and THE JESTER Copyright, 1922, BY PERCIVAL WILDE. THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE Before the curtains part a Jester, with cap and bells and stick, enters at one side, comes to the cent of the stage, and bows deeply to the audience. THE JESTER Ladies and gentlemen: This is a fairy play; a fairy play all about an Ogre who lived in a Castle in the Calabrian Mountains (wherever they may be) in the Steenth Century. The Steenth Century, by the way, began ever so many years ago, and by a most remarkable coincidence, ended exactly one hundred years later. Of course the Ogre is dead now; he died of acute indigestion one day after eating a particularly hearty lunch; but he was very much alive then! Indeed he was! Now an Ogre is a person who dines ex-clu-sive-ly on human flesh (which is a very bad habit); but this Ogre is not like other Ogres: not at all. In deed, he might be called an Ogre because nothing but human flesh O grees with him. \_The curtains part an inch or two, and a little girl taps the Jester on the back. THE JESTER (to the audwnce) Excuse me a minute. (He converses with the little girl in earnest dumb show. She disappears, and he turns to the audience) She says I mustn t tell you 38 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE too much about our play, because if I did I might spoil it all. But I must say this: (with great pre caution that the actors behind the curtains shall not overhear him, he whispers to the audience) don t be afraid that the Ogre s going to eat her! By no means! Of course, I know that it looks as if that were going to happen. But don t let it upset you. (Very confidentially) Appearances are deceptive. [The curtains part once more, and the little girl re- monstrates with the Jester again. THE JESTER She says I mustn t say another word. They re all ready to begin. (He goes solemnly to the side of the stage, bows to the audience, and raps three times. The curtains part, disclosing a large room with a door at the back, and a large, heavily barred door at the side. Seats himself comfortably) This is the larder in the Ogre s Castle. It is a very unpleasant Castle, with a Moat and a Drawbridge and a Portcullis and Sentries, and no hot and cold running water and very old-fashioned plumbing. But then the Ogre doesn t bathe very often, and if he did, he would find the Moat much roomier than any bathtub (though not nearly so private); but the plumbing has nothing to do with this play, so it doesn t really matter. This is the Ogre s larder (in answer to an im aginary question from the audience he spells out the word) 1-a-r-d-e-r and this is inside the Ogre s Castle, and all that we can see of the outside is a wee patch of sky through the narrow, barred windows high up in the thick stone walls. THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 39 You wonder where that big door leads. Well (and he whispers to the audience again) in those good old days they didn t have ice-boxes, and the Ogre had to keep his dinner alive until he was ready to eat it; and there is a whole collection of dinners behind that door waiting for the Ogre to get up an appetite. (A telephone rings on a kitchen table) Of course, some people will say there were no tele phones in the Steenth Century, when all of this happens; but I read a book which was written then, and it doesn t say that they didn t have telephones, and if the man who wrote that book didn t know, I d like to know who does! \_The Ogre s cook, who is fat, and sleepy, and who has been dozing at the big table, wakes up and goes to the telephone. This is the Ogre s Cook. You will learn to know her much better later on. THE COOK (who, by the way, is a lady -cook) Hello! Hello! (She jiggles the lever up and down) What? ... Ye rang me, Cintral. (She hangs up the telephone in disgust) "Excuse it, please!" [The Ogre enters. He is a little bent gentleman, with thick spectacles, who hobbles around with the aid of a cane. THE JESTER This is the Ogre. (The Ogre, proceeding into the room, stops to bow to the Jester, who returns his bow) He is a very polite Ogre. THE OGRE (bows to the Jester again, and goes to the Cook) WTiere are my pills? 40 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE COOK (producing a bottle containing enormous red and green pills) There they are, sorr. (The Ogre empties out two or three) Wait a minute; I ll be afther gettin ye a sup of wather! (She brings him water) There! THE OGRE (swallowing or appearing to swallow several pills) My stomach feels so bad so bad this morning! THE JESTER (to the audience) So would yours if you ate what he eats! THE OGRE (to the Cook) I thought I heard the telephone ring. THE COOK Yez did, sorr. THE JESTER I forgot to say that the Cook is Irish. They had Irish cooks in the Steenth Century, just as they will have Irish cooks in the Steenty-Steenth. THE OGRE (to the Cook) Well, what did they want? THE COOK Twas a wrong number, sorr. Bad cess on em! THE JESTER (with a wealth of expression) "Bad cess" is something like measles only more unpleasant. [The telephone rings again. The Ogre takes it up. THE OGRE Hello! Yes ... Yes ... (Angrily} YES! (With a sudden change of manner, very cordially) Oh, it s the butcher! THE COOK The butcher! THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 41 THE OGRE Do we need any meat? THE COOK (counting on her fingers) I m afraid we do, sorr. THE JESTER What a whopper! Just wait and see what they ve got behind that door! THE OGRE (to the telephone) Yes; we need some meat. What have you got that s nice this morning? . . (To the Cook) He says he s got a nice fresh politician. Ugh! THE COOK (earnestly) Politicians? Don t be afther thryin thim again, sorr. Th last wan was so tough twas all I could do to make broth out of him! THE OGRE And I couldn t keep even that on my stomach! (He turns to the telephone) No; no politicians this morning. What else have you got? . . . (With great pleasure) He s got a poet! [_The Jester breaks into uproarious laughter and ap plause, rocking back and forth overcome with mirth at something humorous which the audience has ap parently overlooked. The Ogre and the Cook stop the action of the play to bow appreciatively to the Jester, who continues to laugh. When he finally quiets down, the play proceeds again. THE COOK What does he say he has? THE OGRES He say he s got a poet! 42 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE COOK (reproachfully) Now! Now! THE OGRE I love poetry! And I love poets! Particularly fried with drawn butter and parsley! THE COOK Do yez want to kill yourself entoirely? Ye had a nightmare after ye et the last. Did ye or did ye not? Well? THE OGRE (sadly and reluctantly) I did. THE JESTER He would have had a Welsh rabbit dream if Welsh rabbits had been invented, but this is the Steenth Century, and nobody has discovered them yet. THE COOK (with finality) No more poets, if ye know what s best for ye! THE OGRE (to the telephone, sorrowfully) No; no poets to-day . . . (He turns to the Cook again) He says he s got some nice little girls. THE COOK How much? THE OGRE How much? . . . Forty-eight cents a pound? My, my, you re dear! THE COOK Tis the only thing ye can digest. THE OGRE He says they ll do for broiling. THE COOK Take em. THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 43 THE OGRE I d prefer something else for a change. THE COOK An upset your stomach again? Take em, or it ll be th worse for ye! THE OGRE (to the telephone) Can you pick out one? Just one? . . . Nice? . . . Fat? ... Juicy? . . . (He turns to the Cook) I think I ought to go to the market and pick her out myself. THE COOK Let me talk to him! (She takes up the telephone) Listen, me bould shpalpeen! THE JESTER "Shpalpeen" is an Irish word, and I don t know exactly what it means. THE COOK Send her up; yis, send her up! An* if she isn t better than th last, tis meself will make yez eat her! Yis! Ye ll have to eat her, even if she sticks in your craw! So there! (She hangs up the receiver, and turns to the Ogre) When I ve finished cookin her; when I ve got her stuffed with sage and chest nuts, an roasted to a turn, with a sweet sauce with almonds and rice, my, won t she make your mouth wather ! THE OGRE (disconsolately) I suppose so; I suppose so. THE COOK Ye talk as if ye didn t like th idea. THE OGRE I don t. I don t like to eat children. I d prefer mutton; or beef. 44 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE COOK Ye can t digest thim; an if ye could, ye wouldn t be an ogre. THE OGRE I don t want to be an ogre. THE COOK (with finality) Ye ve got to be an ogre! THE JESTER (turning to the audience apprehensively) He s got to be an ogre, or there won t be any play! THE COOK (proceeding to the barred door) Look what s waitin for ye! Your Monday dinner! [_She opens the door, and a little girl enters. THE OGRE (peering around) Where is it? Where is it? THE COOK Right before your eyes! THE JESTER He s so blind he can hardly see her. THE OGRE (finally discerning the little girl, and rising politely) How do you do, dinner? THE MONDAY DINNER (frightened, but curtsying) Very well, thank you, sir. THE COOK (introducing other little girls as they enter) Your Tuesday dinner. Your Wednesday dinner. Your Thursday dinner. Your Friday dinner. Your Saturday dinner. Your Sunday dinner. THE OGRE How do you do, food? THE DINNERS Very well, thank you, sir. THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 45 THE OGRE Are you getting enough to eat? THE MONDAY DINNER Oh, yes, sir! Plenty, sir. THE OGRE (turning to the Cook) Didn t one of them have a cold? THE COOK (indicating the Wednesday dinner) Twas this wan. THE OGRE (hobbling closer) How do you feel, my dear? Is your cold better? THE WEDNESDAY DINNER Buch bedder! Thagk you, sir. THE OGRE (tragically) "Buch bedder! Thagk you, sir!" She wants to poison me! THE COOK Wednesday dinner, change place with Sunday dinner! There! (The two girls indicated change places) Give yourself th benefit of th doubt! Never take a chanst, says I! THE OGRE (cheering up a little as he surveys his collection) I don t see why we want more meat when we have all of this. THE COOK Ye don t want to eat thim till they re fattened up, do ye? THE OGRE No; I suppose not. THE COOK Give em toime, says I; give em toime! THE OGRE (going to the Monday dinner) Let me feel your muscle, my dear. (The little girl 46 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE doubles her arm. The Ogre feels her muscle. With great pleasure) Is that the best you can do? THE MONDAY DINNER Yes, sir. THE OGRE Try hard. Now! THE MONDAY DINNER I m trying my hardest. THE OGRE And that s your very best? THE MONDAY DINNER Yes, sir. THE OGRE (excitedly) Sweet child ! [He attempts to take a bite out of her biceps. THE COOK (stopping him energetically) Not raw! Not raw! THE OGRE (reluctantly) I suppose not. But isn t she just too sweet! THE COOK She ll be much swater fricasseed with Maryland sauce. \_The Jester,, as before, breaks into hilarious laughter. All the performers are pleased, and bow to him. THE JESTER Maryland sauce! In the Steenth Century! Mary land sauce! [The actors show that they are offended; the Jester subsides suddenly; the play continues. THE OGRE (proceeding to the Thursday dinner) And you, my dear; let me feel your muscle. (He feels; then to the Cook) She s not very tender. THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 47 THE COOK She s only been here a week, son*. THE OGRE Put her to bed; no exercise; double rations; lots of candy and cream. THE COOK Yis, sorr. THE OGRE Even then we may have to use her for soup stock. (He shakes his finger at her) I m disappointed in you, little girl! Disappointed! (He looks around piteously) I m an old man, and I haven t a good digestion, and what you would do to me! Oh, what you would do to me! (He collapses into a chair) Get me my pills. (The Cook brings them. He swallows one. Points to the Thursday dinner) Take her away ! Take them all away ! The thought of them is enough to ruin my appetite! THE COOK (to the dinners) Come on, there s a dear. Come on. Come on. [She urges them back where they came from. THE OGRE Get them out of my sight! Away with them! (Feebly) This business of being an ogre isn t what it s cracked up to be! THE JESTER (shaking his head sympathetically) Of course, he didn t use those words in the Steenth Century; but that s exactly how he felt. (Address ing the Ogre) Isn t that true? \_The Ogre nods sadly. THE COOK (having fastened the great door, returns to the Ogre, and begins temptingly) 48 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE With a bit of allspice, and a dash of lemon, and a little mushroom flavoring . . . THE OGRE (interrupting) Ugh! THE COOK An a thick yellow sauce, an a touch of curry . . . THE OGRE Ugh! Ugh! THE COOK An I ll bake some of em into a pie, browned on th top, an crisp at th edges . . . THE OGRE Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! THE JESTER He s thinking of the pies his mother used to make. [A trumpet call outside. Maestoso f ^ The but - cher man! The but - cher man! THE COOK The butcher! THE OGRE (brightening a little) The new girl! THE COOK I ll bring her right in! \_The trumpet sounds a second time. n P *ff I I ti: Hur - ry up ! Hur-ry up ! Hur-ry up ! Hur-ry up ! THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 49 THE COOK Take yer toime! Take yer toime! I m coming! [She goes out. THE JESTER That was the way the butcher announced he was calling in the Steenth Century. In those good old days there was style to keeping house. \_The trumpet blows a third time; a long and com plicated call. Recitativo I ve put her on the dumb-wait-er ! I ve molto ritard. put her on T the dumb-wait-er ! I ve put her on the * tempo , dumb-wait - er ! Now hoi - - - - at! THE JESTER (after having listened attentively} In the language of the Steenth Century, that means, "I ve put her on the dumb-waiter. Hoist." (The Ogre, who has been sitting at the table disconso lately, rises laboriously, produces a pocket mirror and a comb, and proceeds to spruce himself up. The Jester, sighing) The good old days! Ah, the good old days! To-day 50 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE what housewife would powder her nose to receive a lamb chop? {The door at the rear flies open, the Ogre faces about ceremoniously, and the little girl who interrupted the Jester before the curtains parted stands on the threshold. THE OGRE Hello! FRANCES Hello! THE OGRE (bowing rheumatically) Allow me to welcome you to my castle. FRANCES (curtsying) Thank you. THE OGRE Won t you walk in? FRANCES Yes. (She looks around) What a queer room this is! Oh, but it s not polite to criticize. THE OGRE It is anything but polite. I think it is a very nice room. FRANCES Do you? Well, then, I agree with you. THE OGRE (unable to believe his ears) What did you say? What did you say? FRANCES I said, "I agree with you." THE OGRE (joyfully) You agree with me! What beautiful words! You agree with me! How I hope you mean it! FRANCES Of course I mean it. THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 51 THE OGRE (dubiously) I ll know more about that a little later. THE JESTER He means he ll have inside information. THE OGRE (shaking his head sadly) It s happened to me so often before : so often! I ve met little girls oh, the dearest children and they said they d agree with me, and I thought they meant it. But they didn t. (He rubs his stomach pathetically) They disagreed with me most violently. Deceitful little wretches! FRANCES I hope you won t find me deceitful. THE OGRE I hope I won t, my dear. When I think of what I did for some of those children it almost destroys my faith in human nature! I treated them like royalty; I fed them on the fat of the land ; I thought nothing was too good for them! And how did they repay me? They kept me awake nights! [He hobbles to the table and takes a pill. FRANCES (timidly) I don t know if I ought to talk to you. THE OGRE And why not, pray? FRANCES We haven t been introduced. THE OGRE (smiling) Well, that can be arranged. WTiat is your name? FRANCES My name is Frances. 52 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE OGEE Pleased to meet you. Now, is everything all right? FRANCES What is your name? THE OGRE (sighing) It s so long since anybody has called me by my name that I ve almost forgotten it. I m just the Ogre. But when I was a little fellow, just a shaver THE JESTER (interrupting) An Ogrette, so to speak. THE OGRE My mother used to call me Freddy. FRANCES / can t very well call you Freddy, can I? THE OGRE No; but you can think of me as Freddy. You will, sometimes; won t you? FRANCES Yes. I promise. THE OGRE (walking about emotionally) How that brings back thoughts of the old days! Things were different then! Oh, yes! Things were different. (Suddenly he stops near her) Would you mind? (He doubles her arm) It s all right now that we ve been introduced. That s right. (He feels her biceps with signs of joy) I believe, oh, I do believe that you will agree with me! (He hastens to the kitchen table and opens a huge diary. He leafs through it, mumbling the names of the days) Monday Wednesday Friday A week from Monday; that s it! (He turns politely to the girl) How would THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 53 you like to make a date with me for a week from Monday? FRANCES A date? What for? THE OGRE A date for supper. FRANCES Don t I get anything to eat until then? THE OGRE (laughing heartily) How absurd! How perfectly preposterous! How utterly ridiculous! You get something to eat every hah* hour! Every fifteen minutes, if you want it! Why, you spend the whole day eating! You tell the Cook your favorite dishes, and she does nothing except cook them for you except when she s cook ing for me. And then, a week from Monday, we meet at the supper table. Is it a go? FRANCES A go? THE OGRE (correcting himself) Pardon my slang. I mean, do you accept my invitation? FRANCES (after thinking) Yes; thank you. THE OGRE That s fine! Of course, it doesn t really matter whether you accept or not, because you ll be there, anyway. But it s always nicer to do things politely, isn t it? FRANCES (urithout answering) After Monday; what then? 54 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE JESTER You see! She s getting suspicious! THE OGRE (lightly) After Monday? The world will go on in the same old way. And you, let us hope (he sighs blissfully), will be a sweet memory. [He strikes a gong. THE COOK (entering) Yis, sorr? THE OGRE Cook, this is Frances. (They bow to each other) Frances and I have made an appointment for a week from Monday. THE COOK Yis, sorr. I ll raymember it. THE OGRE (taking the Cook aside) How will we have her? Stuffed and roasted? THE COOK (shaking her head) If I m not afther makin a mistake, she ll do for broiling. THE OGRE (delighted) You really think so? Well, then, broiling it is. (He hobbles to the door much more cheerfully) I m beginning to feel better already. Good morning. [He goes. FRANCES (going to the Cook) What does he mean by roasting and broiling? THE COOK Don t ye know? FRANCES No. THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 55 THE COOK Ye ll learn soon enough. (She goes, locking the en trance door behind her. Frances tries the door; it will not open) THE JESTER Now she s getting very suspicious. [Frances comes back to the center of the room, plainly worried. She goes to the great barred door, pushes aside the bars and opens it. The dinners rush in. FRANCES (surprised) Hello! THE DINNERS Hello! FRANCES Who are you? THE DINNERS We are the dinners. I am the Monday dinner. I am the Tuesday dinner. I am the Weddesday didder the Thursday dinner a chorus FRANCES The Monday dinner? The Tuesday dinner? What ever do you mean? THE MONDAY DINNER He s going to eat me to-night. FRANCES (horrified) Eat you? THE TUESDAY DINNER (nodding) And he s going to eat me to-morrow. FRANCES Oh! THE WEDNESDAY DINNER (you remember she has a cold) 56 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE Yes; ad he s goig to eat me Weddesday, udless she (pointing to the Tuesday dinner) upsets his stubbig ! FRANCES (desperately) I don t believe it! I don t believe it! THE MONDAY DINNER Do you know where you are? This is the Ogre s Castle! FRANCES What of it? THE MONDAY DINNER You know what an Ogre is, don t you? FRANCES But but he s such a nice old man. He said he was going to dine with me a week from Monday. THE TUESDAY DINNER Not with you; on you! THE JESTER What a difference one little word makes! FRANCES (terror-stricken) Dine on me? You mean he s going to eat me? THE MONDAY DINNER Of course! He s an Ogre. THE TUESDAY DINNER First he ll keep you here a week, and fatten you. THE THURSDAY DINNER That s what he s doing with all of us. THE FRIDAY DINNER He ll feel your muscle every day. FRANCES He s done that already! THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 57 THE WEDNESDAY DINNER He ll feed you till you re nice (she has a struggle pronouncing the word) ad fat ad juicy, ad thed FRAXCES And then? THE MOXDAY DINNER Your turn will come a week from Monday. FRANCES (desperately) But I don t want to be eaten! THE MONDAY DINNER None of us want to be eaten. But what can we do about it? FRANCES I know what I can do about it! Go to the door! Listen! Tell me if you hear any one coming! (The dinners rush to the door; Frances to the telephone) Hello! Hello! . . . Central, please be quick! . . . Hello, Central, give me Information! (She turns to the dinners) Do you hear anything? THE MONDAY DINNER All right so far! FRANCES Hello, Information! Information? . . . Give me the telephone number of my Fairy Godmother. . . . No, I don t know where she lives, and I don t know her name. But you know, don t you? ... Of course you know! That s what you re there for! ... Yes; I ll hold the wire; but hurry \ Hurry! THE MONDAY DIXXER The Ogre s coming! FRANCES Lock the door 1 . 58 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE MONDAY DINNER It s locked already! But he s unlocking it! FRANCES Then don t let him in! \_A key turns gratingly in the lock, but the dinners hold fast to the knob. THE MONDAY DINNER He s trying to open the door! FRANCES Hold tight! Hold tight! (She turns to the telephone excitedly) Oh, how do you do, Fairy Godmother? This is Frances. I m in trouble; terrible trouble. . . . What? ... I don t have to tell you about it? You know all about it already? Oh, you are a Fairy Godmother! Now what am I to do? . . . Yes? . . . Yes? ... I turn my ring twice? And then back once? Oh, thank you! Thank you ever so much! [She hangs up. THE WEDNESDAY DINNER He s gone to get the Cook! FRANCES Quick! Hide! {The dinners rush madly out of sight. The door bursts open; the Ogre and the Cook rush in. THE OGRE (very angry) Who tried to keep me out? (He peers about and catches sight of Frances) Did you do it? You couldn t have done it all by yourself; you couldn t. FRANCES Well, if I couldn t, I didn t. So there! THE OGRE Be more respectful to your elders! (He hobbles THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 59 about the room) There s only one of them here. Where are the others? FRANCES What others? THE OGRE You know well enough! (He turns to the Cook) See if they re all there! If there s one missing (and he gasps at the thought) if there s one missing, I ll eat you (he points a finger at the trembling Cook) even if you re the death of me! THE JESTER (nodding) And she would be! THE COOK (opening the barred door and counting, terror- stricken) Wan three foive sivin. None missing, sorr. THE OGRE But there might have been! There might have been! (He hobbles about the room, glaring at Frances) Hum! So this is how you repay me for my hospi tality! This is how you reward me for my kind ness! This is the thanks you give me for the food and shelter which I was ready to provide! FRANCES How about the food which I was to provide? THE OGRE That s another matter! Quite another matter! (He turns to the Cook) Light the fire! See that it s good and hot! Get the spit ready! I m going to do something that I ve never done before in my life; I m going to roast her myself! [He turns savagely on Frances. 60 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE COOK (very much alarmed) Oh, don t do that, sorr! THE OGRE And why not? THE COOK Ye could never eat her! Boasting s an art! Ye ve got to learn how! THE OGRE I m going to start learning this minute. THE COOK (desperately) Lave it to me, sorr. Let me do it! (She beckons anxiously to Frances) Come along, little girl ! Come along! THE OGRE (furiously) Did you hear what I said? Well, I meant it! THE COOK But- THE OGRE (interrupting at the top of his lungs) Do as I say! THE COOK (whimpering) Yis, sorr. [She turns slowly to the door, very much frightened. FRANCES No! Stop! (The Cook stops. Frances turns to the Ogre) You re not going to eat me! THE OGRE No? FRANCES No! THE OGRE Well, just watch me! THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 61 FRANCES You re nothing but a bogey man in a fairy tale! And fairy tales always come out happily. I ve known that ever since I was five. THE OGRE (seizing a huge knife from the table and ad vancing upon her) And how are you going to make this one turn out happily? FRANCES Just so! [She raises her hands and turns the ring. Instantly the lights go out and thunder rumbles and crashes. THE OGRE (in the dark) Where is she? Where is she? Let me catch her! Just let me get my hands on her! A VOICE Here I am! [The room lights up. But the voice has not come from Frances; it has come from a strapping Boy Scout who stands, quite fearless, on the spot where she stood. THE COOK (gasping with surprise) Saints in Hiven, how she s changed! THE JESTER (indicating the Ogre with glee) He s too blind to know the difference! THE OGRE Now I ve got you! [He advances with his knife. As he raises it to strike, the Scout knocks it out of his hand. THE OGRE (collapsing with astonishment) She knocked it out of my hand! THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE COOK (bursting with laughter) Indade she did! THE OGRE (incredulously) A little girl knocked that knife out of my hand! (He goes to the Scout, still unaware of what has taken place) If you don t mind, may I feel your muscle? THE SCOUT (smiling and doubling his arm) Certainly ! THE OGRE (feels) Oh! O-h! O h h! \_He sinks helpless into a chair. THE SCOUT (pointing to the barred door) Open that door! THE COOK (gesticulating at the Ogre) Not unless he says so. THE SCOUT Open that door! [There is a terrific hammering on the barred door. THE COOK I don t dast! THE SCOUT You don t have to! \_And on the word the door flies open and a troop of Boy Scouts bursts into the room. THE COOK Saints preserve us! THE OGRE (peering at them fearfully) Who are you? THE SCOUTS I m the Monday dinner! I m the Tuesday dinner! the Wednesday dinner! the Thursday dinner! [A chorus. THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 63 THE OGRE (rises very slowly, very feebly, and staggers towards them) If you don t mind? (He feels the muscle of two or three. Then, very faintly) I knew this was going to happen some day! [He faints. THE FIRST BOY SCOUT And now, what are we going to do with him? THE SCOUTS Kill him! No, killing s too good for him! Yes, kill him! THE COOK (hastening to them) Go aisy, lads! Go aisy! Ye don t think the ould baste (and she points to the unconscious form of the Ogre) ever really et anybody? THE PRINCIPAL BOY SCOUT He never ate anybody? I don t believe it! THE COOK (smiling) I wouldn t be afther sayin it if he could hear me, but just bechune you an* me, lads, he never et anything but what you and I would eat! (They look at her in astonishment. She continues confi dentially) Twas himself that did the buyin , but twas I that did the cookin , an what he got on his table (She interrupts) D ye know what it was? THE SCOUTS No. What was it? THE COOK (with great secrecy) Irish stew! THE JESTER That s why his stomach was always out of order! 64 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE COOK Irish stew and Irish stew! Day in an day out for twinty years! An* every single wan av em differ ent! Once once in a long while twas roast lamb; but in the main twas Irish stew, and then, more Irish stew! ONE OF THE SCOUTS But he thinks he s been eating THE COOK (interrupting) I can t help what he thinks. He can think what he plases. If he chooses to think he s been eatin them little dears (and she points to the barred door and to the room which it discloses) tis his privilege! But before I d let wan av em come to harm, tis meself would take th ould baste an cook him in his own kitchen! ONE OF THE SCOUTS (after a pause) We ve all read of ogres. ANOTHER Yes. ANOTHER Man-eating ogres! THE COOK Sure! Well, I ask ye this; did ye ever read of a man-eating ogre ever eatin anybody? Think care ful before ye speak! Did ye ever read of any foine young hero gettin fricasseed? Ye did not! (Tri umphantly) An for why? Twas because ivry last wan av th ogres had an Irish cook, an because when they served him up an Irish stew, how should him self know if twas lamb or beef or perhaps the THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 65 loikes of you? (The Ogre moves feebly) Don t let on ye know, lads! It s a trade secret! THE PRINCIPAL BOY SCOUT There s one thing you ve got to explain. THE COOK An that is? THE PRINCIPAL BOY SCOUT (pointing to the great barred door) That is his larder, isn t it? It was full of little girls. Now, what s happened to them? THE COOK (scratching her head) That s a foine question for th loikes of you to be askin* me! THE PRINCIPAL BOY SCOUT Why? THE COOK (perplexed) Afther th magic s gone an changed thim all into you! (And she points around the circle. The Scouts are puzzled. She points to the ring on the leader s finger) She had a ring loike that, an she turned it somehow THE PRINCIPAL BOY SCOUT Turned it? \_He raises his hand curiously and examines the ring. THE COOK (eagerly) Thry turning it! \_The Principal Boy Scout turns the ring. Again there is darkness and rolling thunder. But when the light appears again, the Boy Scouts have not vanished. Instead, next to each one stands one of the missing dinners. 66 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE COOK (triumphantly) Th magic worked different this time, but there ye are! THE OGRE (rises feebly, and staggers to a chair. He looks around grimly and fastens his gaze upon the Cook) I heard what you said! I wasn t unconscious! THE COOK (terrified) For th love of Mike! THE OGRE When I thought I was eating little girls you were really serving me Irish stew? Nothing but Irish stew? THE COOK (trembling) Y-yis, sorr. THE OGRE (turning to Frances and the dinners) I take back all the hard things I ever thought of you! (He rises slowly) Open the doors! Let them go home! THE DINNERS Home! He s going to let us go home! We re not going to be eaten! We re going home! FRANCES (who, perhaps, is a little sorry for the Ogre, coming to him gently) But what are you going to eat now? THE OGRE (smiling) Do you really want to know? FRANCES Yes. THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE 67 THE OGRE I m going to turn vegetarian! THE CURTAINS BEGIN TO CLOSE THE JESTER (rising) Stop! Those curtains must not close! FRANCES Why not? THE JESTER This is a fairy play. Where s the moral? THE OGRE That s so! THE COOK (scraiching her head) Well, what is the moral? THE OGRE Maybe maybe I ate the moral. [There is a pause while everybody thinks hard. THE JESTER Well, I m waiting. THE COOK (with imiermost conviction} The moral s got something to do with Irish stew! THE OGRE (shuddering) Let s hope not! [He swallows a pill hastily. FRANCES (offer another pause) This is the moral; when you re in trouble, ask for Information and telephone your Fairy Godmother. THE PRINCIPAL BOY SCOUT But what are you going to do if there s no telephone? FRANCES I don t know. Let s ask the Ogre. 68 THE DYSPEPTIC OGRE THE PRINCIPAL BOY SCOUT Yes; let s ask the Ogre. THE COOK (breaks into laughter, rocks back and forth doubled up with mirth. Finally, gasping for breathy wiping the tears from her eyes) G wan! Ye don t really believe in Ogres? THE JESTER (with a sweeping gesture) That is the moral! [He bows. CURTAIN IN THE NET A "CROOK" COMEDY Opus 17 CHARACTERS MlLLIGAN NOTES WlLKS MURDOCH Copyright, 1921, BY PEBCIVAL WILDE. IN THE NET A large, extremely simple room in the building occupied by the American Safe Manufacturing Company. The icalls are whitewashed, and are evidently perfectly solid. To the right is the only entrance: a small heavy door, with a lock, of which the key is on the inside. There are a few windows, but they are along the rear, and at least fifteen feet from the floor. The walls are perfectly bare. There is practically no furniture. Two small chairs are placed over towards the left; a large safe, obviously new, occupies the position of honor near tlie center of the stage. And that is all. As the curtain rises, Noyes, an old watchman, enters the room on his regular round through the building. Milligan, a policeman in full uniform, starts up from his chair, where he has been dozing. MILLIGAN Well? NOYES (starting violently) How you did frighten me, Mr. Milligan! MILLIGAN (y aiming, and stretching his arms lazily) Nothing doing yet? NOTES Not a sound, Mr. Milligan. MILLIGAN Been on your rounds? 72 IN THE NET NOTES Just finished, sir. MILLIGAN Nothing unusual? NOTES Why, sir, there hasn t been anything unusual here in thirty years ! MILLIGAN (laughing) Well, how about to-night? NOTES (earnestly) You know, sir, I don t like it. It s my place, you see, to look after things: to see that everything s all right. It s as if the firm didn t have enough con fidence in me as if they didn t trust me. MILLIGAN (laughing boisterously) You? What could you do? NOTES (drawing himself up) I? ... Just wait and see, sir! MILLIGAN But you don t like us, eh? NOTES No, sir, I don t! I can t turn without running into one of you gentlemen. Upstairs there s Mr. Reilly, smoking a pipe a pipe, mind you with his feet on Mr. Crawford s desk. In the cellar, there s Mr. Flynn, with some of his friends, playing Canfield. Outside there s oh, I don t know all their names, but every wheres I look there s police! police ! nothing but police ! I come in here, and you scare me out of a year s growth ! MILLIGAN Ho! Ho! IN THE NET 73 NOTES And that isn t all ! Every one of em wants to arrest me! I ve been arrested seventeen times in the last twenty minutes ! And Mr. Reilly wanted to put me through the third degree! MILLIGAN Well, the boys will amuse themselves! NOTES Mr. Milligan. MILUGAN Yes? NOTES How many cops how many of you gentlemen are here? MILLIGAN Bout two dozen, I guess. NOTES And to catch one man! MILLIGAN Plenty, isn t it? NOTES Tin horn sports, that s what they are! MILLIGAN What? NOTES When / could do it all by myself! MILLIGAN Well, you ll have your chance. NOTES And I ll use it, sir, I ll use it! . . . Do you think do you think he s coming? 74 IN THE NET MILLIGAN Sure as the Day of Judgment. NOTES Twelve o clock, he said. MILLIGAN And he ll be here. NOTES That s what he wrote. MILLIGAN Did you see the letter? NOTES Of course! The firm showed it to me! MILLIGAN Do you remember what he said? NOTES Do I remember? Every word, sir. "To the Amer ican Safe Manufacturing Company. Dear Sirs: The newspapers announce that you have completed an absolutely burglar-proof safe. Gentlemen, there is no such thing. To convince you I shall call at twelve, Tuesday night, and I trust that you will publish an apology for your absurd statement Wednesday morning. Cordially yours, J. Henry Murdoch. P. S. Kindly have the safe removed to a large and airy room your storeroom has an offen sive odor. J. H. M." MILLIGAN Well, of all the nerve! NOTES That s what it is, sir. Our storeroom offensive odor! Nothing of the kind! Why, it smells as IN THE NET 75 sweet as a baby s breath! . . . Er, what are you going to do if he coines? MILLIGAN (pompously) Don t you worry. NOYES Going to arrest him? MILLIGAN No! I m going to give him a bouquet of bride roses ! NOYES Eh? MILLIGAN No! I m not going to arrest him! Oh, no! NOTES But don t let him touch the safe, will you? MILLIGAN What? NOTES (crossing to safe) Wouldn t like him to hurt it. Beautiful, isn t it? [_The door opens, and a middle-aged, commanding man enters. MILLIGAN (challenging him) Stop! Who are you? WILKS (showing a gold badge) W T ilks. United States Secret Service. NOTES Good Lord! More of them! MILLIGAN (saluting) Roundsman Milligan, sir, 33rd Precinct. WILKS (taking command at once) WTio s this man? 76 IN THE NET NOTES Why, I m the watchman, sir, been here thirty years, sir. WILKS Get out! NOTES I beg your par. . . . WILKS Get out ! (Noyes goes) Now, Milligan. MILLIGAN Yes, sir. WILKES How many men in the building? MILLIGAN Fourteen, sir. WILKS How are they divided? MILLIGAN Three each roof and cellar, four upstairs, six on this floor, one here. WILKS Seven on this floor? I saw only five. MILLIGAN Two hidden, sir. WILKS Wasted! Absolutely! How many outside the building? MILLIGAN One every fifty feet clear around the block. WILKS What orders? IX THE NET 77 MILUGAN Let anybody in let nobody out. WILKS Good. Now. . . . M1LLIGAN Beg pardon, sir. WILKS Yes? MILLIGAN Chief s orders, we re to let him open the safe if he comes. WILKS Correct. MILLIGAN There s a thousand dollars in marked bills inside. WILKS I gave the order. MILLIGAN You? WILKS We haven t got anything on him. If we grab him when he comes in, we can t do much. If we let him steal the money it s another story. We ll send him up the river for a term. MILLIGAN Oh! I see! Pretty sharp. WILKS You haven t said anything to (gesture to door) MILLIGAN To Noyes? No, sir. WILKS Good. Now, how about this room? 78 IN THE NET MILLIGAN Been over every inch, sir. WILKS Windows? MILLIGAN Too high up. Four men below them other side. WILKS WaUs? MILLIGAN Sounded every inch. WILKS Floor? MILLIGAN No trap doors. WILKS Sure? MILLIGAN Had a carpenter in. [Wilks examines the room; turns. WILKS So this is the safe? MILLIGAN Yes, sir. WILKS Burglar-proof. MILLIGAN So they say. WILKS And Murdoch thinks he s going to get into it! MILLIGAN Do you think he s coming? IN THE NET 79 WILKS Coming? (nodding grimly) Yes. MiLLiGAN (examining revolver) And we ll get him. WILiKS No shooting, mind you. I m in charge. MILLIGAN Yes, sir. Er, how does it happen that the Secret Service is after him too? WILKS (wheeling about angrily) Milligan! How long have you been on the force? MILLIGAN Nine years, sir, come December. WILKS And you haven t learnt to mind your business yet? (Opening the door) Xoyes! NOTES (appearing at the door) Yes, sir. WILKS You will wait out here. Don t move an inch from the door. Understand me? NOYES Yes, sir. WILKS (closing and locking door) All right. (Producing wax and thread, and fastening thread across door) See this, Milligan? MILLIGAN Yes, sir. WILKS Nobody can open that door without breaking the thread. 80 IN THE NET MILLIGAN Yes, sir. WILKS Come here. (Milligan crosses over) Put your hand on that knob. . . . Now don t let go till I give you the word. MILLIGAN Yes, sir. WILKS Now I ll go over the walls. [Wilks begins to examine the walls minutely. The lights suddenly go out. WILKS (excitedly, in the dark) Did you turn out the lights? MILLIGAN (with equal excitement) No, sir. WILKS Then (He interrupts himself suddenly) Ssh ! \_A noise is heard, as of a man tapping the face of the safe with a hammer. Milligan gasps audibly. MURDOCH S VOICE All right, officer, I know you re there. {There is a flash of blinding light from the safe. Mur doch is working with an electric arc, which illuminates his face perfectly, but shows nothing else. He uses the arc at intervals, alternating its use with that of a chisel and hammer. WILKS (from somewhere in the background) How are you getting along, Murdoch? MURDOCH Pretty well. (A flash) Say! IN THE NET 81 WILKS Yes? MURDOCH (after a pause) Haven t I heard your voice before? WILKS Guess so. MURDOCH (a flash) You re Wilks, aren t you? WILKS Yes. MURDOCH Secret Service, by Jove! WILKS Yes. MURDOCH It s a compliment, Wilks; it s a real compliment! (A pause; a brilliant flash. He turns to the policeman) And who may you be? M1LLJGAN Milligan; 33rd Precinct. MURDOCH Only a copper! MILLJGAN Well, I ll get you just the same! MURDOCH (in an aggrieved tone, after a pause) Expected nothing less than a sergeant; and they only send a cop! MILLIGAN Seventeen hi the building. MURDOCH Ah, that s better. (There is a dazzling flash) So you ll get me? IN THE NET MILLIGAN Yes, I ll get you! MURDOCH How about it, Wilks? WILKS (quietly) We ll get you. MURDOCH (a pause) Ho! Ho! (The sound of the hammer) How s your wife, Wilks? WILKS Doing nicely, thanks. MURDOCH Don t mention it. (There is a flash) Gee! MILLIGAN What is it? MURDOCH Getting there. MILLIGAN (excitedly) Now the time, Mr. Wilks? WILKS No, you fool ! MURDOCK (after a pause) Don t call him nasty names, Wilks! WILKS Milligan, keep your hand on the door knob. MILLIGAN Yes, sir. MURDOCH (thoughtfully) Going to let me open the safe, eh? WILKS Yes. IX THE NET 83 MURDOCH Let me steal the money inside? WILKS Yes. MURDOCH That s nice of you: mighty nice. (There is a flash) By the way, who said this safe was burglar-proof? WILKS You don t think so? MURDOCH (flinging open the door with a clang) No! MILLIGAX Now the time? WILKS One minute! MURDOCH Then you pinch me, eh? MILLIGAN Surest thing you know. You think you re going to get away? MURDOCH (with limitless assurance) I know I m going to get away. (There is total dark ness as the inner door of the safe gives noisily. With only a second s pause) All right! I ve got the money Let er go! [There is a sound of running feet. WILKS Lights! Quick! MILLIGAN They don t work! WILKS Then your lamp, man! 84 IN THE NET MILLIGAN (turning on his pocket flash and crossing hastily to the electric light switch) The wires have been cut! [He repairs them quickly. The lights go on. A wire leads from the broken place to a carbon pencil at the safe, which is open, and wrecked. Wilks and Milligan are alone in the room. WILKS Where is he? MILLIGAN (running about the room) I saw him plain as day! WILKS Yes! So did I! Now where is he? MILLIGAN He must be here! WILKS (crossing hastily to the door) The thread is unbroken ! (He tries the door) Locked ! (The two men run excitedly about the room, looking for Murdock in the most preposterous places) He can t have left the room! It s impossible! MILLIGAN He s not here, sir. WILKS Rubbish! He must be! (He walks about the room impatiently, glancing at the windows, the walls, the door. He stops suddenly: glares at Milligan; then in an altered tone of voice) You are sure he s not here? MILLIGAN (startled) Yes. WILKS Well, where s he gone? He didn t vanish into thin air, did he? IX THE NET 85 MILLJGAN (hesitantly) Er, no ... sir. WILKS Did you take your hand off that door knob? MILLJGAN WeU . . . WILKS Answer me! MILLJGAN Only a minute, sir, after he was here. WILKS A minute! That was long enough! MILLIGAN (eagerly) But the thread isn t broken ! WILKS Eh? (With a changed expression, and suddenly visible suspicion) You thought of the thread, did you? MILLJGAN What do you mean, sir? WILKS (crossing to the door quickly, unlocking it, and throwing it open) I ll show you what I mean! Noyes! NOTES Yes, sir. WILKS Come in here ! [Noyes enters; WUks locks the door behind him. NOTES Didn t show up, did he, sir? WILKS Didn t show up? He s been here and gone! Look! 86 IN THE NET NOYES (catching sight of the wrecked safe) Good Lord ! WILKS Here! I have no time for drivel. You stayed out side the door? NOTES Yes, sir. WILKS See anybody go by? NOTES Why, no, sir. WILKS (savagely) You lie! NOTES What? . . . WILKS Don t try any of that on me ! The man s been here. He s gone. There s no other way out, is there? Now, why did you let him go? Quick, the truth! NOTES I swear to God, sir ... WILKS The truth I want! The truth! NOTES (doggedly) The man didn t pass that door! WILKS (in a towering rage) He didn t, eh? Well, I ll fix you! Give me your gun! (Noyes does so) Hold out your hands! [He handcuffs him. NOTES Mr. Inspector, I swear. . . IN THE NET 87 WILKS Shut up! (Indicating a chair) Go over there! Sit down! . . . Now, Milligan, are you going to tell the truth? MILLIGAN He didn t . . . WILKS (interrupting) I don t care what he didn t! I want to know what he did! What have you got to say? MILLIGAN Nothing, sir. WILKS Well, / // tell you what happened! You re his con federates! You and the watchman! You took the thread off the door in the dark. You let him out . . . yes, the two of you! And you put the thread back in the dark! That s what you did! MILLIGAN (desperately) I didn t . . . WILKS Don t give me any back talk! You re under arrest! Your gun! Your handcuffs! (Handcuffing him with his own handcuffs) Now, I ll fix you! I ll break you for this, by George, I ll break you! Had the man here under your thumb, and let him get away! Let him get away! You call yourself a police man, you do? \Vhy you re a joke! A joke! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! (He breaks into a prolonged peal of laughter, ivhich, at first simply sarcastic, gradually becomes exulting and boisterous. Milligan and Noyes rise as if hypnotized and watch him) Murdoch? Know who Murdoch is, you fools? Why, Fm Mur- 88 IN THE NET doch! (He claps on bushy eyebrows and a moustache, and speaks in Murdoch s voice:) How s your wife, Wilks? (And the reply, in Wilks* voice, to the limitless surprise of his prisoners, comes from the other side of the room) Doing nicely, thanks! (He whips off the eyebrows and moustache) Didn t know I was a ven triloquist, did you, Milligan? [He unlocks the door, smiles, is gone, and the door swings shut behind him. MILLIGAN (after a long pause, breaking an agonized silence) Now what I d like to know is who in hell s going to believe us! THE CURTAIN FALLS A WONDERFUL WOMAN A COMEDY OpiaSS CHARACTERS STEVE TAYLOR TONY MACABTHUB COBA LANGLEY AN INDIVIDUAL Copyright, 1922, BY PERCIVAL WILDE. A WONDERFUL WCftlAN The living room in a nice, but not too nice apartment. It is nice, let us qualify at once, because it has possibilities: not because it enters or even approaches the luxury class. It is the kind of home in which you would expect to find a business man with a moderate, but sufficient income. Then you look again, and you decide that no plain busi ness man ever displayed such excellent taste in selecting the objects with which to surround himself in his moments of leisure. The walls and ceiling have been done over, recently, so we judge, in a pleasing neutral color which serves as an admirable background. But the furniture is obviously not new, and some of it is not placed as you would expect to find it in an apartment which has been lived in. Its arrangement, as it were, has not yet progressed beyond the experimental stage. In months to come the inhabitants of the apartment icitl discover that the couch might be better placed than at the rear, with its back to the windows, threatening unpleasant drafts to the persons who sit on it. This, and other details, await the mellowing hand of time; for with use, the furniture will gradually and surely gravitate where it belongs, and tJie apartment will become as comfortable as it promises. Near the fireplace is a nice tabouret, and next to it is a huge easy chair. This is correct, for the man of the house 92 A WONDERFUL WOMAN will most certainly smoke his after-dinner cigar or pipe hereabouts. But the tabouret is decorated with a pipe rack filled with pipes and an unopened box of im ported cigars, and both of these things are wrong, because pipe-racks never by any chance contain pipes, and be cause no moderately well-off business man would leave a box of his favorite cigars in so exposed a location. On the couch in the background is a little pile of odds and ends: framed prints; gaily colored bits of cloth; books; milliners boxes; curtains which have not yet been hung. Yet the signs of order in all this disorder lead you to draw two excellent conclusions: first, that there is every evidence of a woman s touch, and second, that the time of year is October first, or very near thereafter. The future tenants are evidently in the throes of moving in. Were this not the case the upright piano would not, like a precipitous island in a lake, tower so awkwardly in the precise center of the room. It is placed just where you can t help running into it. No matter where you are going: to the interior of the apartment, which is to your right; to the hall, which is to your left; or to the uncur tained windows, which are somewhere in the background, all roads lead to the piano. It presides over the scene in splendid, overpowering isolation. As the curtain rises Steve Taylor, a middle-aged man dressed with a degree of elegance which comports illy with this modest room, stands at a window, loolcing out into the street, watching something. Perhaps it is such fragments of a sunset as are visible over the surrounding roofs; more probably it is a bit of exposed lingerie dis played by some young thing dodging a delivery wagon below. A WONDERFUL WOMAN 93 Tony MacArthur, Steve s chum, possibly a year or two younger than he, stands near him in philosophic silence. There is a pause: a pause long enough to permit the members of the audience to think back to their own October firsts, and shudder at the thought that the date is again approaching. Then Tony turns, and navigating skilfully in and out of the furniture, approaches the tabouret. STEVE What are you doing, Tony? TONY (taking up the box of cigars) Going to get myself a smoke. STEVE (dodging hastily to his side) Don t! TONY Why not? Nothing wrong with them, is there? (He reads the label) "Corona Corona." That s good enough for me. STEVE (firmly) Put em down, Tony! I bought those because she asked me to. That box is going to stay unopened until she opens it. TOXY (putting the box down unth a sigh) You re a sen timental chap, aren t you, Steve? STEVE (nodding) Sentimental, and glad of it: that s why they fall for me. (He produces his cigar case) Now have one of my cigars. TONY (with heroic self-control) No; I ll do without a smoke. (He crosses to the window) You don t mind if I look at the scenery? 94 A WONDERFUL WOMAN STEVE (laughing) Of course not! TONY I thought perhaps you might want her to see it first. STEVE No; the scenery is common property. TONY Thanks; I ll look at some. [He looks; shakes his head. STEVE What is it? TONY Can t say I think much of it. Moving vans across the street; moving vans this side of the street; moving vans both ends of the street; furniture piled on the sidewalk; kids scrambling in and out of your car (he breaks off) By George, for what you re paying for this place you ought to have a view of Central Park with the Himalaya mountains in the background! STEVE (smiling) I m satisfied. I ll say it s worth it; and cheap, too, compared with what it used to be! You know what Florrie cost me: an apartment on Riverside Drive, rent three times what this will be; her own car; liveried chauffeur; servants; and a thirst which would have burnt the lining out of another fellow s pocket- book! TONY It s a pity Florrie left you. STEVE Pity? Don t waste any of it on me! Why, that night A WONDERFUL WOMAN 95 she came to me and said, "Listen, honey, I ve signed a contract to go to Hollywood and work for the movies," I felt like pinching myself to make sure I was awake. TOXY You liked Florrie, didn t you? STEVE I was crazy about her for a month. Then for two or three months I was luke to middling. And then TONY And then? STEVE To be candid, after six months it struck me that it was so much simpler to let a million movie fans pay fifteen cents a night apiece to support her than to try and do the whole thing myself. TOXY (laughing) Getting economical in your old age? STEVE Who says I m old? She doesn t think so. TOXY WTio? Florrie? STEVE No! I m through with Florrie remember that. TOXY Then it s the new one. (Steve nods) Steve, honest, how did it start? STEVE How did what start? TOXY You know what I mean. WTiere did you meet her? And who is she? 96 A WONDERFUL WOMAN STEVE You don t know her. TONY If I did I wouldn t be asking about her. What is she? A shop-girl, poor, but honest? STEVE (hesitantly) No; she s she s a newspaper woman. TONY (astonished) A reporter? (Steve nods) Well, you always did have queer tastes, but I thought there was a limit! A newspaper woman? I call that downright immoral! STEVE Wait till you see her. TONY But a reporter! STEVE (with assurance) Tony, she doesn t look it! Honest, she doesn t. She ll be here any minute now, and then you can see for yourself. TONY And I won t look with the eyes of love, oh, no! I ll turn my calm, fishy orb on her, and right there you ll lose a friend! (He pauses) Go on: break the news to me gently. Tell me how you met her. STEVE She came to interview me : nothing could be simpler. TONY Catch a man by appealing to his vanity: nothing new about that. Of course you fell. STEVE I did, and I m not ashamed of it. I fell hard. The moment I saw her I said, "There s the successor to A WONDERFUL WOMAN 97 Florrie!" Such eyes! And such lips! And such TOXY Did you give her the benefit of those anatomical details? / jj - j\ a M d? T STEVE ( flurried) What? TONY Is that how you greeted her? STEVE Well, hardly. Not the first time, at any rate. TOXY (with lofty approbation) I m glad there s some delicacy left in you. STEVE Delicacy? Why, I m nothing but delicacy! That s my middle name. TONY (dryly) So I ve been told. STEVE Will you believe it, I haven t kissed her yet! TOXY If that s a question, my answer is " No!" STEVE It s the truth, pon my word! (Idyllically) My lips have never touched hers ! TONY (thoughtfully) Well, as you re not lacking in enterprise \_He pauses. STEVE Go on. TONY I ll assume as I intimated before, that it s the kind of face you can t kiss unless it s related to you. 98 A WONDERFUL WOMAN STEVE (irritated) Is that so? Well, don t you try to claim relationship when you meet her ! TONY (imperturbably) I won t. Go on with your denatured love story. Tell me more about the unkissed one. Tell me how you started to grow romantic. STEVE The romance has been all on my side so far. (He sighs) Tony, after I d taken her out to supper a couple of times, I told her I was a married man. TONY Then I suppose she started to cry. STEVE Nothing like it. She wasn t even surprised: said she knew that before she came to interview me. Said she was wondering how long it would be before I d tell her. TONY What then? STEVE I made a clean breast of it. I told her the whole story: how I couldn t get along with my wife, and how she spends most of the year in Paris. She mentioned she knew that also. Then ahem I gradually led up to Florrie, and before I knew it, I d blurted out the whole thing: the whole blamed story from the time I met her till the day she left me to go into the movies. TONY That was tactful, wasn t it? A WONDERFUL WOMAN STEVE I don t know why not. She was very sympathetic. TOXY Laughing up her sleeve! STEVE Don t you believe it. I wouldn t have gone any further if she d been like that. (He smiles) When I got through, she mentioned that I hadn t told her anything she didn t know. TOXY I suppose she had interviewed Florrie before she met you. STEVE She did. Funny coincidence, isn t it? TOXY Funny nothing! Being a prudent maid, she was getting references. (As Steve does not speak) WTiat s on your mind? STEVE I m thinking: thinking of what happened after wards. I took her uptown that night in my car. It was a lovely moonlit night TONY It generally is. STEVE I made her a proposition. TOXY And she accepted like a shot. STEVE (shaking his head) She said she d think it over. TOXY (incredulously Think it over? When she knew who you were? And how much you could afford to spend on her? 100 A WONDERFUL WOMAN STEVE Yes. r S TONY C I ve got it: she s an heiress in disguise! STEVE Then it s a mighty good disguise! Working on a newspaper, and living in 242nd Street! Nothing fishy about that, is there? TONY No; I suppose not. STEVE Of course not! TONY Then she thought over your offer, and accepted. STEVE (shaking his head) Not so fast. First she made me show her the apart ment I d rented for Florrie. It s for rent, furnished, you know. I took her through it. TONY And she didn t grab it? STEVE She didn t care for it : not at all. Said the furniture was in wretched taste. TONY That s something in her favor. STEVE (sincerely) You bet it is! Then she looked out of the window: that view across the Hudson, you know, and said she didn t like Riverside Drive: it wasn t homey. Said she preferred a place where a man could smoke a pipe and be comfortable. (He waves his hand) Here s the answer. A WONDERFUL WOMAN 101 TONY I ll say it s not half bad. STEVE (nodding complacently) Look at the furniture : didn t cost me a sou all hers, every stick of it. Had it moved down here from 242nd Street. Just one thing she insisted on: I had made her a business proposition. She came back with another. She said this was almost as serious as marriage: she wanted to feel protected. TONY That means a sable coat. STEVE (shaking his head) L No; just the lease of this apartment in her name, a year paid in advance. TONY (astonished) . Was that all? No car? No chauffeur? No accounts at the stores? STEVE Not even a weekly allowance! A signed lease to this place, and the landlord s receipt for a year s rent. I gave them to her last night. And that s all there is! TONY Well, I never heard anything to beat that. She must love you. (Steve tries hard to look modest) That s the only possible answer: she must be simply mad about you. Lucky fellow! (He slaps the triumphant Steve on the back) Why can t they fall for me like that? I m as good looking as you are. (In wandering away he stumbles against the piano) Ouch! STEVE Hurt yourself? 102 A WONDERFUL WOMAN ( TONY 0V^c^Jl~ What s the piano doing here? STEVE (anxiously) What s the matter? Do yu think it belongs some- wheres else? TONY I don t know. But it certainly doesn t belong here. STEVE I m glad you noticed it, Tony. TONY You can bet she didn t put it there. STEVE No : it came half an hour ago* I told the men where to put it. TONY I thought so. STEVE Where would you put it? TONY I don t know. But I d move it. STEVE (removing his coat) You shall. TONY What do you mean? STEVE You don t expect me to shove it around all by myself? TONY I m not a piano mover! STEVE Neither am I. Come on, Tony. (Grumblingly, Tony removes his coat, and takes the opposite end of the piano) Don t shove it: lift it. You ll scratch the floor. A WONDERFUL WOMAN 103 There! (They have moved it to a place a little worse chosen, if possible. They stand off and look at their handiwork) How do you like it now? TONY Rotten! STEVE What s the matter now? TONY Not much; only you can t open the door. (Hastily) But you don t have to move it again. You can have another door cut through here. STEVE Fine! That would give us a private entrance into the next apartment. On the job, Tony. (They attack the piano again, and plant it near the fireplace) How s that? TONY (mopping his forehead) I m not going to give you any more opinions! You wait until she comes, and she ll tell you where she wants it. STEVE Rotter! [The door to the hall opens, and Cora Langley enters. She is what you would expect from the foregoing: plainly dressed, but well dressed; nice looking, but not flamboyantly nice looking; self-possessed; refined; gracious; dignified; and withal, attractive in no un certain manner. CORA Steve! STEVE Cora! (He goes to her with open arms. She raises 104 A WONDERFUL WOMAN her eyebrows the least trifle. He controls himself; offers his hand, which she takes) Cora, I want you to meet my best friend, Tony MacArthur. CORA So this is Tony! How do you do, Mr. MacArthur? I ve heard Steve speak of you so much that I feel as if I almost knew you. TONY (embarrassed because of his coatless condition) Pardon my appearance. [He makes a dive for his coat. CORA Oh, don t bother putting it on. I don t mind. STEVE (turning delightedly to Tony) What did I tell you? She s a regular girl! CORA (completing her thought) Besides, you ll have to move the-^iano again. [She stands looking about the place happily. STEVE Well, how do you like it? Our little home! /\ (_ CORA It has possibilities: it has great possibilities. With a few pictures on the walls; and cushions here and there; and everything comfy ! It needs just one thing: the woman s touch. STEVE (tenderly) And you re here to supply that! CORA I m here to supply that! [Through the hall door enters a curious individual. He is a thin, sallow man of some forty-odd years, none too well dressed. His bird-like nose is decorated with A WONDERFUL WOMAN 105 a pair of steel-rimmed spectacles: his hair is sparse to middling: his general attitude one of retiring pessimism. He is mild: very mild indeed, and polite: polite to a fault. It is easy to see that he is either highly educated or not educated at all. This individual trickles into the room, so to speak, for his entrance could not be more unassuming. In either hand he carries a suitcase. Once inside the door he stands, and inspects the room carefully. The men, noticing him, smile. Steve nudges Cora. CORA Oh! (She watches the Individual for a second) Like it? (The Individual nods. Steve and Tony laugh. The Individual bends a look of mild reproach upon them) Never mind, James. Take the bags into the next room. Through that door. [_ The Individual nods, and goes. STEVE Where did you find him? CORA (smiling) He s funny, isn t he? TONY Queer things come out after the rain. CORA But he s useful; and he works hard; and he doesn t answer back. (He turns to the men) Now suppose we put a few things in order. This piano certainly doesn t belong here. STEVE Where does it belong? 106 A WONDERFUL WOMAN CORA Let me think. [Upon the last few words the Individual has r centered, minus the suitcases, and overhearing, stops in the middle of the room to revolve the question in his own thoughts as well. Cora goes to him, and points to a likely spot for the piano. The Individual shakes his head resolutely. Cora indicates another possible location. The indi vidual ponders. Cora suggests a third spot. The Individual comes to a decision, and indicates with his forefinger, without speaking a word, just how the piano should be placed. Then he oozes out through the hall . door. STEVE (staggered) What do you think of that? CORA He s right, though, isn t he? TONY I don t know. The piano s at least three inches too long to fit in there. CORA (positively) Impossible. He never makes a mistake about those things. STEVE All right, we ll try it. Come on, Tony. [They move the piano to the place indicated. It fits to a hair. TONY He was right! CORA Of course he was right. He s always right. [The Individual r centers. This time he is carrying a A WONDERFUL WOMAN 107 small steamer trunk on his back. All three look at him curiously. Not a whit abashed, he halts in the center of the room, and encumbered by the trunk, makes a gesture which might mean anything or nothing. Cora goes to him. Again he gestures. She understands. CORA He thinks the curtains shouldn t be left on the sofa. {The Individual nods, and goes. STEVE (doubtfully) Do you think we can hang em? CORA I don t know why not. The rods are in them. TONY So they are! (He holds up a curtain) Come on, Steve; let s put em up. I m beginning to like this: it s like playing house. [As they look about for something on which to stand, the Individual reenters. They gaze at him. He under stands at once: shuffles out to the hall, and returns with a chair, which when properly broken in half, and stood upon its head, becomes a stepladder. He place j tJiis at a window, and goes out to the hall. STEVE (amazed) What is he? A mind reader? CORA (laughing) I told you he was useful. TOXY (mounting the ladder) He s uncanny! [He proceeds with the business of hanging curtains. STEVE (finding his chum thus occupied, believes he has discovered an appropriate moment for a little romance. 108 A WONDERFUL WOMAN He sidles over to Cora) Cora! Our own little place! (She smiles) Our own little love nest! CORA Do you like it better than Florrie s? STEVE No comparison! CORA And this doesn t cost half as much. STEVE Well, really, I don t care about that, you know. What I like about this place is it s a home ! (He comes nearer to her) But even that doesn t matter. There s only one thing that matters, and that s you! You! You re worth anything you cost! CORA Even if I don t cost a great deal? TONY (from the ladder) Steve! I wish you d come here a minute! STEVE (disregarding him) Cora! Think of the two of us: hand in hand! CORA (with a whimiscal smile) I can picture what it will be like: a winter evening; the fire burning; shades drawn; and ho light, ex cept the light from the fire! STEVE Cora! CORA Outside stars in the heavens; the crisp cold air of a midwinter night; not a cloud in the moonlit sky; snow underfoot, snow, crisp and crunching TONY (interrupting) If you two don t stop discussing the weather, I m going to drop this curtain! A WONDERFUL WOMAN 109 CORA Cosy! Could anything be more cosy! [She sighs. Steve sighs. He feels an irresistible im pulse to kiss her. Being irresistible, he would probably give in to it, when from the hall enters the Individual, laboring this time with a valise and a cage containing a canary. He takes in the situation, steps up to Steve masterfully, and touches him on the shoulder. Steve, rapt in Cora s dithyrambics, starts up with some show of annoyance. The Individual raises a soothing hand, and shakes his head. If he were to speak, he would doubtless say, "Naughty! Naughty!" Even though he does not open his lips, the thought is clearly evident. Steve controls himself with an effort. The Individual points a mildly suggestive finger in the direction of Tony, who is almost falling off the ladder with laughter, and as Steve, hypnotized, moves in the indicated direction, favors him with a paternal smile. This accomplished, he takes up his burdejis, which he has been compelled to set down, and carries them into the interior of the apartment. STEVE (who has nearly reached the ladder before exploding, wheels indignantly) I don t want to hang curtains! I d much rather talk to you! CORA Steve, there s a time for everything. STEVE The nerve of the man! CORA (smiling) He has a way with him, hasn t he? 110 A WONDERFUL WOMAN STEVE (indignantly) Well, he hasn t a way with me ! Not by a long shot ! What did you bring him along for? CORA (vaguely) Oh, he just came. STEVE Then he might as well go! CORA Shh! \_The Individual enters sedately. Steve, having reached the boiling point, is about to say something violent to him, when the Individual turns with a disarming smile, and a gesture to the curtains. Somehow or other his action takes the wind out of Steve s sails. Speechless, he picks up a curtain, and passes it to the patient Tony. The Individual, on his way to the hall, observes the box of cigars. He smiles with pleasure, deliberately opens it, extracts one, and lights it as he goes out. The men have watched his extraordinary proceeding in fascinated silence. As he goes Tony bursts out. TONY And you wouldn t let me have one! STEVE (paralyzed) Did you ever see anything to beat that? CORA (hastily) It s all right. He s a little queer: you ve got to humor him; let him have his own way. STEVE (furiously) Let him have his own way? He s not waiting for us to let him! (He strides to the tabouret, takes up the cigar box, and offers it to Tony) Tony, help yourself. \The Individual enters with a tin wash basin, a large A WONDERFUL WOMAN 111 sponge, and a quantity of towels. He sees what is happening, shakes his head reproachfully, and quietly takes the box out of Steve s hands, Tony has already helped himself to a cigar. The Individual relieves him of it, much as a mother would take the jam bottle from a child. Then, from his own pocket, he produces a pair of those thin, contorted affairs commercially known as Pittsburg stogies, and benignantly hands one to Steve and another to Tony. He goes out. STEVE (looking at his prize with consternation) Tony, did you get one also? TONY Look! CORA (laughing) Don t you understand? With your coats off, he thinks you are furniture movers! STEVE Furniture movers? CORA Of course! Isn t it the most natural thing in the world? Wouldn t anybody think so to watch the two of you? TONY (with sudden comprehension) And he thinks he s saving the boss cigars! CORA Exactly! STEVE But he isn t saving them from himself! CORA (lightly) He helped me the last time I moved. Perhaps he thinks he s privileged. [The Individual, who retreated to the hall from his last A WONDERFUL WOMAN sally, r centers with the strangest burden of all. He is not carrying it this time: he is pushing it. It is nothing less than a canopied baby carriage, and the sensation he produces as the men catch sight of it is terrific illimitable undescribable. The Individual seems quite unconscious of it. Calmly he wheels the thing into the center of the room, stops, and surveys the tout ensemble. The piano is where it ought to be; the cur tains are hung; the odds and ends have disappeared; a few pictures, thanks to Cora, have miraculously sprouted on the walls: the place looks quite habitable, and thoroughly inviting. Thw Individual takes in these details, produces a well-worn black leather coin purse, opens it, and carefully takes out two quarter dollars. Then, with another of his beautiful smiles, he hands a coin to each of the men, murmuring audibly: "Thank you; you can go now." They are so completely thunderstruck that they simply accept the coins, and watch him in dumb amazement as he places the basin, sponge, and towels in the baby carriage, tops the pile neatly with the box of cigars, and wheels the whole in credible affair into the interior of the apartment. Steve and Tony stand looking after him in limitless amazement. Finally Steve turns to Tony. STEVE Tony, did you see what I saw? TONY A baby carriage! STEVE A baby carriage! What s it doing here? That s what I d like to know! (He turns terrifically on Cora) Cora, who is that man? A WONDERFUL WOMAN 113 [On the instant there is the sound of water running into the tin basin. The men start as if shot. CORA (And throughout the last few minutes there has been a curious expression about her mouth) It s nothing: he s giving the baby a bath. STEVE The the baby? TONY Yes; that s what she said. STEVE (terrifically) The baby? WTiose baby? CORA (innocently) WTiose baby? STEVE Yes! Tell me! Whose baby? CORA (simply) My baby. (The men collapse. She surveys them with a pitying smile. Then she beckons to the fireplace) Come here. Sit down. There are some things I want to explain to you. TONY (acutely conscious that this does not concern him) I guess I ll be going. CORA No; you too, Tony! It won t hurt you a bit to listen. Come, sit down. (Limply the men pull up chairs. Steve s condition may be succinctly described by the single adjective "punctured." Tony is too completely crushed to enjoy his friend s discomfiture) There! STEVE Before you begin: (he jerks his thumb towards the 114 A WONDERFUL WOMAN door through which the Individual has disappeared) who is that man? CORA My husband. STEVE (forlornly) D ye know, I had a sneaking suspicion that something was wrong! (He slumps lower in his chair) Now, go on. CORA (kindly) Steve, you consider yourself a judge of women. STEVE I used to. CORA Yes; I could see that the first time I met you. Do you remember? They had sent me to your office to in terview you. I was impressed. Any girl would have been impressed. The secretaries, and the assistant secretaries, and the clerks, and the office boys, and the little slip on which I had to explain my business before you could be disturbed; and then, your pri vate office, the paintings on the walls, the marvellous rugs on the floor, the subdued light, the subtle sug gestion of wealth; why, I thought I should never pluck up enough courage to walk those few steps to your desk, sit down, flip open my notebook, and ask you questions ! (She shakes her head at the recollection) But I did it! I trembled in my boots, but I did it! I had expected that when I looked into your eyes I would find them dreaming: dreaming of new plans; new fields for your activities; new mergers, perhaps. But when I looked I could read just one thought: "She s a pretty girl; a deuced pretty girl; and I A WONDERFUL WOMAN 115 know everything there is to know about pretty girls!" Oh, Steve! (She has struck home. After a little while she continues) You were thinking just one thought: "What a successor to Florrie! She s pretty; I m rich. So there you are!" Steve, for a man who considers himself a judge of women, you made an awful mistake! I felt like telling you that even be fore you spoke; it was on the tip of my tongue to tell you STEVE (interrupting) Why didn t you? CORA (looking him right in the eyes) It came to me abruptly that if a man had lived as long as you, and didn t know the difference between my kind of women and well Florrie s kind, it was about time that he learned a lesson. I didn t encourage you. I didn t lead you on. Give me credit for that. STEVE I do. I do. CORA I didn t intend to go as far as this at first, but when you suggested renting an apartment for me STEVE (with a smile) And agreed to put the lease in your name, and pay a year s rent in advance CORA (nodding) It occurred to me that the lesson might be worth it! (She pauses) Steve, in your life you ve wasted a good deal of time and a good deal of money on women. Here s some time and some money that haven t been wasted! If it will make you happier, think of 116 A WONDERFUL WOMAN what it cost you as a fine for not knowing a good woman when you saw one! [From the bathroom in the interior of the apartment comes a thinnish voice raised in the strains of "I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls." With varying emotions, all listen. STEVE What does he do for a living? TONY He s not a singer. CORA No. He s an instructor in mathematics at the Uni versity. TONY I knew that the moment I heard him sing. CORA (smiles. Then she continues) He s a nice chap; home-loving; and clever clever as they make them! Some day he ll make his mark. But in the meantime, it s pretty hard sledding for a family of three on an instructor s salary, even if you add what I earn. Food is so high; and shoes; and things for the baby. (The voice in the distance splits triumphantly on a high note. Cora listens dreamily) Poor dear! He s so impractical. STEVE (with a gasp) Does he know? CORA Not a word; and what s more, he ll never suspect. (The song becomes a duet as the crying of a baby sud denly joins it. Tht song stops. The crying continues) A WONDERFUL WOMAN 117 You d best be going now. He ll be needing my help in a minute. [7/i eloquent silence the men put on their coats and move towards the door. STEVE Before I go, just one question. CORA Yes? STEVE Was that your only reason: because I didn t know the difference between you and some other women? CORA (after a little hesitation) No. STEVE What was the other reason? CORA (looks into his eyes: laughs) Well, if you must know, rents are so terribly high! [Steve nods. Just why we don t understand, but he seems to draw infinite consolation from this last state ment. He bows with grace surprising in a man of his years. STEVE Mrs. Langley, you re a wonderful woman! [He offers his hand. She shakes it. Steve and Tony go. Cora, smiling closes the door after them. The baby s crying has ceased abruptly. Evidently the mathematician has managed without her help. It has grown darker. She goes to the window, and pulls down the shades. She lights the lights. It is really a very charming apartmmt: Cora seems to say this. But the fireside is the center of the home. She 118 A WONDERFUL WOMAN scratches a match; turns on the gas logs. There are two chairs at the hearth. She arranges them to her exact liking. Next to one she puts a pipe, an ash tray, matches, and the tobacco jar. In the other she seats herself, takes up her knitting, and makes herself quite comfortable. Then, and it is obviously a rehearsal of a scene which is to follow when the instructor of mathe matics has taken his place and has begun to enjoy the warmth of the fire: CORA The rent? That s a secret, dear. . . . You ll never know how much it is, because I m going to pay it myself! Yes, every cent of it. ... You see, they ve given me a raise down at the office. . . . (She looks around the room, mellow in the gentle light) . . . oh, a thumping big raise! . . . What? You think I m a wonderful woman? [She rises, and caresses the place where her husband s head would be. The voice from the bathroom rises again: there can be no doubt of it: he is certainly not a singer. Slowly, dreamily, Cora moves towards the inner door. She opens it, and listens an instant. Then she murmurs something. It sounds like " Too easy! " She goes in. The door closes. THE CURTAIN FALLS ^ CATESBY AN IDYLL Opus 26 CHARACTERS HE SHE PLACE: A Summer Hotel Copyright, 19U, 1920, BY PERCIVAL WILDE. CATESBY It is the late afternoon of a summer day, a day which has been warm and rather enervating, and the veranda of the hotel is almost deserted. Deserted it would be indeed were it not for a young and extremely attractive girl reposing in a rocking-chair in afar corner. A stray icisp of golden hair hangs over her face, and trembles with the slow alternation of her breath; on her lap a daintily trimmed lace hat occupies a place of honor; a vividly colored parasol rests against a carelessly flung arm, a7id a slender white hand, unmarred by jewels, grasps an absurdly inadequate fragment of embroidery known as a handkerchief. The spectator s first impulse would be to call her be witching; his second, to seek icords which would more nearly do her justice. For she is beyond all description. The rosy hue in her cheeks is the glow of healthy youth: no artificial means could ever equal that icork of Nature. And the wholly unconscious grace of her lithe-limbed figure! And that look of childish innocence upon her delicately molded features! Does the callous spectator murmur that all women look innocent when they are asleep? Shame upon his cynicism! And that whisper proceeding from her half -parted lips. When the goddesses drowsed on high Olympus, then, perhaps, there icas the equal of that music, that super-snore. CATESBY A pause. She sighs in her sleep, and on the instant a flannel-clad young man enters upon the scene. Thoughts of the opposite sex certainly do not fill his head, for he is in tennis costume, and carries a racket, but the sight of the sleeping girl has an electrical effect on him. He stops sharply and gazes at her in frank admiration. Then, rising at once to the occasion, he noiselessly draws a chair to her side and plants himself in it. Another pause. Quite obviously the young lady has no intention of waking up. It is equally obvious that the young man is not acquainted with her, and that the problem is weigh ing upon him. He seems to solve it satisfactorily, leans over slowly, and by a series of cautious jerks releases her hold upon the handkerchief, which he deposits on the floor. The hat and the parasol follow suit. This much accomplished, he knits his brows, and seems to devote his energies to the remaining problem how to awaken her. A sharp pain attacks his ankle, and, automatically, he raises his hand to brush away a mos quito. But an inspiration seizes him, and he pauses with set teeth to wait while the insect takes a firm hold on him. Then, stealthily, he makes the capture, quickly places the mosquito on the girl s bare arm, and obliter ates it with a sudden slap. The girl wakes with a cry. SHE Oh! HE (whipping out a handkerchief and wiping off the remains) I killed a mosquito on your arm. SHE A mosquito? CATESBY 123 HE Yes. (He opens out his handkerchief to exhibit the corpse) Pests, aren t they? SHE (drowsily) Yes. [And, to his consternation, she turns over calmly, and prepares to go to sleep again. HE (without a pause) I say! (SJie does not answer) I say! SHE (half audibly) Yes? HE You ve dropped your handkerchief. SHE Oh (She makes herself more comfortable) Will you put it on a chair? HE (with uncalled-for energy) Yes. Of course. At once. With the greatest pleasure! (He follows her directions with as much noise as possible) And your hat and your para sol? (She does not reply) What shall I do with your hat and your parasol? (The answer is an angelic snore. He shakes his head with vexation, still holding her belongings in his hands. Suddenly he rushes to the rail of the verandah, and addresses an imaginary passerby in an ear-splitting voice) Jimmy! O-oh! I say, Jimmy! (She is sitting bolt upright, terrified. He notes it with the corner of his eye) Jimmy ! [Gesticulating wildly with her hat. SHE Stop that! 124 CATESBY HE Are you going to the tennis court, Jimmy? SHE Give me my hat! [She rises anxiously. HE (leaning far over the railing) Bring back my cigarette case with you, Jimmy! SHE Give me my hat! HE (turning, and facing her) Oh, I beg your pardon. (She takes the hat, and examines it solicitously) Did I wake you up? SHE (nodding with the moue of a child) Yes; I think so. HE Oh! I m so sorry! It was thoughtless of me. You ll excuse me, won t you! SHE (looking trustfully into his eyes) Yes. HE Thank you. Won t you sit down again? SHE I m afraid we haven t been introduced to each other. HE Oh, that s all right! SHE (shaking her head slowly) No, it s not all right. HE But I know you! SHE (surprised) You know me? CATESBY 125 HE Of course. (He smiles) You re the girl who s going to many Catesby. SHE What? HE Ronald Catesby, of New York. SHE Yes? (With a mischievous smile) How do you know? HE Oh, he told me. Catesby s one of my best friends. And he raves about her! SHE And the girl? HE I never met you before, but I recognized you at once. Why, he s been dinning you into my ears morning, noon, and night. Your eyes! Your lips! Your hair ! Your voice ! I know you as well as if as if we were brother and sister! SHE Oh! (She smiles) And what do you think of Catesby s choice? HE I approve! Absolutely! (He rambles on happily) I knew I might meet you here. Catesby said so; he said there was a good chance of it; said I was to go right up to you and introduce myself. SHE Oh! 126 CATESBY HE (taking her hands) Well, I congratulate Catesby with all my heart ! SHE Thank you. And what have you to say to me? HE To you? SHE Don t you congratulate me? HE Oh, the world will do that. Catesby is a young man. He comes of a fine family. He is rich disgustingly rich. And he is a catch. SHE (nodding) Yes. The papers are full of him. HE The papers? They have reporters following him all around the country. (Smiling) He lies awake at night thinking up new ways to get rid of them. SHE They used to report him engaged to a different girl every week. HE Did you read it also? (She nods) And all the mammas who offered their wares to Catesby! Light or dark; tall or short; thin or plump; with brains or without. Pays your money, and takes your choice! SHE He escaped them. HE Lucky fellow! CATESBY 127 SHE (coming back to her original point) But you haven t congratulated me yet. HE Must I? Think! A fellow meets a girl; he imagines she is the most wonderful girl in the world; the most beautiful, the cleverest, the most lovable! And he insults her insults her outrageously ! He has the conceit to imagine that the most wonderful girl in all the world is just good enough to accept his proposal! SHE (laughing) Isn t it just as well? Otherwise the attractive girls would never get married. HE (grinning) Perhaps. I say, you and I are going to be awfully good pals. SHE Do you think so? HE I am sure of it! Why, Catesby and I were boys together! And Catesby s wife and I must be friends. SHE (smiling naively) Because she s Catesby s wife? HE Isn t that enough reason? SHE Yes. (She looks into his eyes) I think I think it wouldn t be difficult to make a friend of you. HE (very sincerely) Thank you. SHE I think you must be a nice kind of a friend to have 128 CATESBY (She pauses) But tell me, if you have made a mistake? HE A mistake? SHE If I don t marry Catesby? HE Oh, but you will! SHE (shaking her head) No. HE What do you mean? SHE I mean I mean that you have mistaken the girl. HE (quickly) Oh, but I haven t! SHE (holding up her hand) Please! I never met Catesby in my life. HE What? SHE And if I had met him it would have made no differ ence. You see, I m not Catesby s kind. I m only an insignificant Western girl. No family to speak of, not much money, nothing of any particular consequence. (She smiles) You have no idea how tremendously unimportant I am! HE (very much embarrassed) Oh! SHE And Catesby! Catesby the multi-millionaire! Catesby the cotillon leader, the yachtsman, the CATESBY 129 polo-player, the man I read about in the papers every day! Catesby wouldn t look at me! I m so far beneath him that that I simply don t exist ! HE I don t think you re fair. SHE (maliciously) That s right. Apologize. HE (shaking his head resolutely) No. To err is human, to apologize asinine. SHE (smiling) Well, tell me about the girl. You see, I m inquisi tive enough to ask. HE . What do you want to know? SHE After you took me for her? Everything! Is she pretty? HE Yes. Very pretty. SHB And clever? HE Well, Catesby thinks so. SHE And you? HE I don t like to differ with Catesby. SHE Tactful friend! Is she young? HE Twenty or thereabouts. SHE And blueblooded? 130 CATESBY HE Blueblooded enough for Catesby. SHE Lucky girl. (She pauses) Do you think Catesby really loves her? HE Yes; I think so. SHE (smiling) I thought millionaires always "contracted alliances." HE Oh, no. Catesby is very human. SHE In spite of his money? HE In spite of his money. (His voice becomes lower) You know, the moment that Catesby met her he knew that he had found his wife. It wasn t only that he loved her at once loved her as he never thought he would love anything on this earth. It wasn t only that she was beautiful, and pure, and everything that a woman should be. It was the ideal of his dreams come to life! It was the girl who never could exist, and did exist! SHE So Catesby had ideals? (So/%) He had ideals? HE Ideals which he always hoped to realize! SHE And did he? HE (does not reply; there is a pause) Catesby used to tell me about the old Chinese legend the invisible silken thread that connects CATESBY 131 every boy that is born with the girl who is one day to become his wife; the invisible bond that stretches in a great rainbow from one soul to another! And Catesby used to say that at the end of his rainbow he would find not a pot of gold, but a heart of gold the girl, who ever since the world began, had been marked out to be his wife! SHE (after a long pause) How foolish! And how r beautiful! HE Do you wonder that he was happy? Do you wonder that every fibre in his being cried out with joy when he met her? SHE No. (She smiles, a little sadly) How I wish I could have known him known the man who could feel like that! (She sighs) Oh, but such things don t happen! Your rainbow thread? There never was any! There never is any! (A long pause. Night has begun to fall, and scattered lights twinkle in the distance) When you go back (she rises and takes his hands), when you go back, tell Catesby, tell him that you met a girl who felt with him. Tell him that you met a girl who all her life had dreamed of an ideal, a man who could dream like Catesby. Tell him tell him you met a girl who might have loved him ! And say [But he interrupts her, and draws her, all unresisting, into a triumphant embrace. HE Don t be foolish, child! (And his voice is only a throaty whisper) Don t be foolish! I m Catesby! IN THE GROWING DARKNESS, THE CURTAIN FALLS HIS RETURN A COMEDY Opus 53 CHARACTERS HELEN HARTLEY JOHN HARTLEY SYLVIA BEST A MAID THE TIME: The Summer of 1918. Copyright, 1922, BY PEBCIVAL WILDE. HIS RETURN The nicely furnished boudoir in Mrs. Hartley s home in a small Northwestern town. There are three doors. The central one leads into the hall; that on the right into the interior of the house; that on the left into a bathroom. There is the furniture one would expect; a dressing table, a chaise-longue, two or three dainty chairs, and a pier-glass at one side. On the dressing table are two large framed photographs. At the rise of the curtain the stage is empty. There is a pause. Then there enters John Hartley, a man of thirty-Jive or forty, dressed in a Canadian uniform. He is very much excited. He is returning home after an absence of years. He enters as if he expects to find his wife here. She is not. He is disappointed, but he takes visible pleasure in going about the room, identifying the many familiar objects which it contains. He stops abruptly at the sight of the two portraits on his wife s dressing table, one of him, one of her. He takes up her picture, deeply affected, and kisses it. There is a pause. Then he hears steps coming, and straightens up expectantly. The maid enters. THE MAID (looking at him in surprise) How how did you get in here? HARTLEY (smiling) Why, I walked upstairs. 136 HIS RETURN THE MAID Yes, yes, I know that. But how did you get into the house? I didn t hear the bell ring. HARTLEY I opened the door. (As she looks her surprise, he shows a latchkey) With this. THE MAID (with sudden comprehension} O oh! Then you you re the master! (Hartley nods and smiles) You re Captain Hartley! I m so glad to see you! Why, I ve heard all about you, and your medals, and being wounded, for three years! (Timidly) Might I might I shake hands with you, Captain? HARTLEY Why, of course! \_He shakes hands. THE MAID (rubbing her hand delightedly) I never thought that I d shake hands with a real hero! HARTLEY Hero? Bosh! They re all heroes over there! I m just unlucky wounded sent home. THE MAID Nevertheless, the town s mighty proud of you! HARTLEY Shucks! I don t care about the town! Tell me: how is she? THE MAID The missis? [He nods eagerly. The maid starts abruptly^ aghast. HARTLEY (frightened) What is it? What s wrong? HIS RETURN 137 THE MAID She doesn t expect you until five o clock! HARTLEY (laughing) I took an earlier train. THE MAID (dismayed) But why did you do that? HARTLEY Why? Is it so difficult to understand? THE MAID It was wrong. HARTLEY Wrong? THE MAID Don t you see? She wants to be dressed: to look her nicest, to receive you. HARTLEY (laughing) Well, what of that? THE MAID She d be simply heartbroken if she knew that you d gotten here, and she wasn t ready ! You see, it s it s something very special. HARTLEY (beginning to understand) Oh, something very special? [The door downstairs is heard to close. THE MAID Here she is now! HARTLEY (delighted) Oh! THE MAID You won t spoil her pleasure? HARTLEY (sincerely) God forbid! (he goes to the right-hand door) Re- 138 HIS RETURN member half an hour upstairs will seem almost as long as three years over there! [He goes out. The maid waits until she hears approach ing footsteps. Then she, too, goes. There is a pause. Then Helen Hartley enters in a street dress. HELEN (turning, and calling to a person following her) Come right in, Sylvia. SYLVIA (entering. She is a pretty, brainless, young girl) Mrs. Hartley HELEN (correcting her) Helen. SYLVIA Helen dear, will you do me a favor? HELEN (smiling) Who s the man? SYLVIA Your husband. HELEN What? [She takes off her hat. SYLVIA May I stay here till he comes? HELEN (shaking her head gently) No, dear. SYLVIA I m simply dying to meet him! HELEN Do you want me to tell you a secret? So am I! (As Sylvia pouts) I haven t seen him in three years. SYLVIA I ve never seen him at all! HIS RETURN 139 HELEN (simply) I m his wife. . . Child, child, when you ve been mar ried as long as I have, you will understand if if you and the lucky man who gets you love each other as dearly as well, as we do ! [S/? ta kes up Hartley s photograph. SYLVIA Oh, but we will! HELEN (smiling, and petting her) That s right ! Be happy ! Be as happy as I have been! (She pauses) There are moments in life that are like no other moments. There was one in my life when he asked me a question, and I said yes; and there was another when we knelt together in church; and there was another, but that wasn t so pleasant, when I waved good-by to him from the station plat form, when he joined the Canadians three years ago (she pauses) and there will be a wonderful moment, a moment for which I have been living ever since, when he comes home to me. (Kindly) Don t you see? There mustn t be any third person here? Just he and I! SYLVIA (contritely) I m so sorry, Mrs. Hartley. HELEN (with an abrupt change of manner) Now, now! Don t call me Mrs. Hartley! It makes me feel so old! Ugh! SYLVIA (smiling, and kissing her) Helen, dear! HELEN And don t be so respectful! I don t like it when young^girls are so respectful to me; treat me just 140 HIS RETURN as they would their mothers! I m not old! I m only thir I m only (She breaks off) Well, it s nobody s business how old I am, is it? SYLVIA Of course not ! HELEN (slowly) Not that there s any secret about it. ... (She smiles at Sylvia) But what I wouldn t give to be your age again! (Tapping Sylvia s cheek) It didn t take paint to put that color on, did it? SYLVIA (embarrassed) Oh, Mrs. Hartley! HELEN (resignedly) There you go again: Mrs. Hartley! (Sighing) I suppose it s the right thing, anyhow, isn t it? SYLVIA You old darling! (Helen winces at the word. Sylvia picks up her wraps) You want me to go now, don t you? HELEN (looking at her shrewdly) Would you like to help me dress? SYLVIA Would I? HELEN Then I ll read you his last letter! [_She rings for the maid. SYLVIA From over there? HELEN (shaking her head) No; written the moment he landed here to let me know when he d arrive. [The maid enters. HIS RETURN 141 THE MAID Yes, ma am? HELEN Bring me the dress. You know which one? THE MAID (smiling) I know, Mrs. Hartley. [She goes to the clothes closet. HELEN (turning to Sylvia) The same dress I wore the day I said good-by to him at the train! SYLVIA What a charming idea! HELEN (producing a letter) His letter suggested it. Listen: "My own dearest girl (She reads to herself: looks up) No, I can t read the beginning. (She reads a little further silently) No, I really can t. (She goes ahead) Ah! Here s something! SYLVIA (with eager anticipation) Yes? HELEN (reading) "The weather on the trip home was lovely." SYLVL4. How intensely exciting! HELEN It s not very satisfactory, is it? (By this time the maid has changed her shoes. She indicates them) The same shoes I wore that day ! (She reverts to the letter) Ah! SYLVIA Yes? 142 HIS RETURN HELEN (After an instant s hesitation) I m going to read this to you. Some day you may get letters like it. (She reads) "Do you know what image has been in my mind every minute for the last three years? Do you know what picture was before my eyes as I lay in that shell hole, wounded, ex pecting every instant to be my last? It was your face, dear, as the train pulled out of the station, your face, dear, and your smile, your smile put on to en courage me, for God knows there was no smile in my heart that day. Every detail is as distinct as if you stood before me as I write the little dress you wore : it was always my favorite (she indi cates the dress in the maid s hands) the hat : one of the kind that came down over the side of your face (she indicates it) Do you remember how it was in the way when " She drops her voice so that it is inaudible, and con tinues. SYLVIA What was that last, Helen? HELEN "Every detail; yes, every detail " SYLVIA But the hat? What did he say about the hat? HELEN (Rises. By this time the maid has unhooked her dress) This is the hat. Don t you like it? [She thrusts it into Sylvia s hands, and changes quickly into the second dress. SYLVIA (putting down the hat, and looking at the dress) Do you know, I used to have a dress something like HIS RETURN 143 that? (She watches the maid attempt to hook it up) That s not the way to do it! Mayn t I hook you up, Helen? HELEN If you d like to. \_She nods to the maid, who goes out. SYLVIA (taking the maid s place) I ll feel that I ve had some share in preparing for him! HELEN (dreamily) His favorite dress ! SYLVIA (working very hard: panting) Mrs. Hartley! HELEN Well? SYLVIA I believe I believe you ve grown stout! HELEN What? SYLVIA I can t close more than half of the hooks ! HELEN (horrified) I never thought of trying it on until to-day! (She hurries to the pier glass, followed by Sylvia. She looks: then, in horror) Oh-h! SYLVIA (laughing) What? HELEN Oh! Oh! SYLVIA Helen! Just because you ve gotten stout? HELEN It s not that! Oh, no! It s not that! It s because 144 HIS RETURN I ve gotten old! Come here: stand beside me: look at yourself next to me ! Do you see? . . . It s come! It s come! I always knew it would come not gradually, so that I wouldn t know it, but all of a sudden, without a moment s notice all at once! It was only three years ago that I said good-by to him, and I wore this dress. I was a young wife. To-day he s coming home to find me an old woman! SYLVIA (frightened) Why, Mrs. Hartley, that dress looks very becoming! HELEN It would on you. Don t lie to me, please ! I ve lied to myself enough! I ve painted and powdered and dined and danced with the youngest of them! But it had to come to an end. I knew it had to come to an end. But I hoped how I hoped that it would not come to an end before to-day! SYLVIA Helen, dear why why HELEN You can t say anything. There s nothing anybody can say. / used to say to myself that he d find me as young, as beautiful, as the day I waved good-by to him at the station. Now now I know that will never be. (With horror) He ll come home to find an old woman sitting opposite him at his own table! She weeps. SYLVIA (nervously, after a pause) Helen dear, you can t be over HELEN (interrupting) I can t be but I am. They always are "over!" (She pauses) You know, it s not that I care what HIS RETURN 145 other people think: I don t give that for their opin ions! He s the only one that counts. He used to love my youth; my freshness and now, if he wants youth and freshness, he ll have to go somewheres else to get it! ... (She shakes her head bitterly) Jealous? I have always hated jealous women! But to-day I understand : to-day I too am jealous, jealous ! SYLVIA Mrs. Hartley! HELEN (coming to a hysterical calm) I don t mean you, child. Of course not! You ll pardon me, won t you? Just the excitement the excitement of knowing that he was coming home. (She has led the way to the door) You ll go now, Sylvia? SYLVIA I m so sorry, Mrs. Hartley! [She goes. HELEN (closing the door after her) So sorry! So sorry! [She laughs bitterly; icalks to the dressing table; takes up the letter: reads it over again with obviously tragic feelings. THE MAID (entering) Ma am ! HELEN (ivearily) Yes? THE MAID He s come! HELEN (taken aback) What? THE MAID He s just come in! 146 HIS RETURN HELEN (an instant of indecision. Her first impulse is to rush to the door) Tell him to wait ! THE MAID (astonished) To wait? HELEN You heard what I said? And come back when you ve told him. \_The maid goes. Even before she has crossed the threshold, Helen has torn off tine dress, and flung a wrap around her shoulders. She rushes to the table, sits down, and begins rubbing off her paint madly. The maid re enters. HELEN Bring me my black and gold! THE MAID (astonished) Your black and gold? HELEN And quickly! THE MAID Yes, ma am. [She hurries to the closet, and takes out a third gown. HELEN Put me into it. THE MAID But I thought but I thought HELEN (hysterically) That I was going to wear the other one? How absurd! What on earth made you think that? (The maid stares at her, simply dumfounded) Never mind. I m so excited that I don t quite know what I m saying. You can wear the other dress, can t you? HIS RETURN 147 THE MAID (incredulously) The blue and white? HELEN Yes. THE MAID Yes m. I can wear it. HELEN Then take it. It s yours. THE MAID Oh, thank you, ma am. HELEN Now I m ready. Show him in. \_The maid goes of with the dress. Immediately she is out of sight, Helen rushes of through the left-hand door. There is a pause. Then Hartley enters softly. HARTLEY Helen! Helen dear! (He advances into the room) Where are you? Where are you, dear? [Helen re-enters. She has finished removing every vestige of paint and powder from her face. She has suddenly become herself a beautiful woman. HARTLEY Helen! (They rush into an embrace. Presently) Isn t it wonderful to be home again? HELEN John! HARTLEY To walk the streets of my own town ! To stand under the roof of my own house! HELEN Is that all, John? 148 HIS RETURN HARTLEY (shaking his head with a smile) No; that isn t all. HELEN Say it, John! Say it! HARTLEY To feel your arms around my neck! To feel your lips pressing mine! (He kisses her) Do you realize what I ve been through for three years? HELEN We ll try to forget that. HARTLEY We ll try ! (He holds her off at arm s length) And now ! HELEN Now! HARTLEY Let me look at you ! HELEN (in a strained voice, after a little pause) Well? HARTLEY (surprised at her tone) What is it? HELEN (excitedly) Tell me what I know already! Let me say it for you! That I ve grown old, old, old! (He tries to interrupt. She continues without a break) You are not the only one who suffered these three years! I suffered! God knows how I suffered ! For any reason for no reason when your letters didn t come when the newspapers told of heavy fighting when I stayed awake all night, worrying my soul out, I suffered, I suffered too! HARTLEY My dear! HIS RETURN 149 HELEN Let me finish! These wrinkles do you see them? These lines they were not here three years ago do you know why I have them? They are for you, you, you! It s not the men alone who go through hell! It s the women they leave behind them! HARTLEY (taking her in his arms violently} My dear, dear girl ! How I should love every wrinkle in your face if there were any ! Only there aren t ! HELEN John! HARTLEY You old? That is what comes of looking too much in your mirror ! A woman is only as old as she looks in the eyes of her lover! HELEN (almost gasping) And I? HARTLEY I have never seen you look so young, so beautiful, so altogether charming! HELEN (presently) John! HARTLEY Yes? HELEN Look what I ve found! HARTLEY What? HELEN (with childish delight) A gray hair hi your moustache ! HARTLEY (laughing) I ve grown old, haven t I? (As they separate an 150 HIS RETURN instant, a surprised look comes into his eyes) Helen! HELEN What is it? HARTLEY (clapping his hands together) By Jove! What a fool I was not to see it! HELEN See what? HARTLEY And after the maid warned me that you had a sur prise in store for me! HELEN (utterly bewildered) What is it, John? HARTLEY (triumphantly) You re wearing the same dress you wore the day you saw me off at the station! [She falls into his arms, laughing happily. THE CURTAIN FALLS EMBRYO A FANTASTIC COMEDY Opus 29 CHARACTERS THE AUTHOR THE BRUNETTE THE YOUNG MAN THE BLONDE THE DEAD MAN The general public is fairly familiar with acts known as " Black Art." In that form of entertainment, the footlights, instead of being directed upon the magician and his assist ants, are faced about, in order to blind the audience, while the most mysterious appearances and disappearances, be headings, and what not, take place upon the stage against a background of dead black. Despite the antiquity of the device, its use has been con fined entirely to performances intended solely to mystify, and quite devoid of dialogue, action, or any of the essentials of a play. "Embryo," so far as I know, represents the first attempt to make use of this highly effective and unusual setting as the background for drama. BY PERCIVAL WILDE. EMBRYO The Author, smoking a pipe, is seated at his type- irriter. He reads over what he has written; pauses; puffs thoughtfully, and writes another line. He is tired, for he writes only a second or two, and stops abruptly. He knocks the ashes out of his pipe wearily, and leans back to ponder. He yawns. He sitings his feet up onto the typewriter table, and stretches. Perhaps he is thinking: thinking hard. But his hand swings idly at his side, and his head begins to nod. His eyes close. He sleeps. Slowly, very slowly, the scene becomes quite dark. . . . It is an extraordinary scene which is revealed when the lights finally go on again. Author and typewriter have vanished. The stage opening is outlined by a rec tangle of lights, shining unshielded into the faces of the audience, and the scene within is simply a mass of smooth, impenetrable blackness. If there are limiting icalls, they are quite invisible. Even floor and ceiling are of the same velvety indistinguishable black. From nowhere, apparently, a tall, slender brunette enters. Her age is anything from twenty to thirty, and she is the type which conceals it, whichever age it may be. She is dressed in the height of fashion, her physical charm is undeniable, and she approaches rubbing her eyes, 154 EMBRYO eyes which are black, and vivacious, and very captivating, as if she had just awakened. Suddenly, abruptly, a young man appears near her. No door opens to admit him: nothing exists to show whence he came. He simply appears, appears as instantaneously and decisively as a magic-lantern picture is thrown on a screen. He sees her at once, and whips off his hat to bow to her deeply. THE YOUNG MAN How do you do? THE BRUNETTE (bowing) Very well, thank you. (She looks at him curiously) Haven t I seen you before? THE YOUNG MAN (proudly) Of course you have! THE BRUNETTE I thought so. THE YOUNG MAN I m the author s favorite character. Faultlessly dressed, you notice, even though I wear tennis clothes when necessary; smart, cynical, occasionally sen timental. Sometimes I m English. I am usually aristocratic. THE BRUNETTE I think I remember you! THE YOUNG MAN (indulgently) Yes? THE BRUNETTE You were Lord Brookfield in "The Noble Lord." THE YOUNG MAN So I was. EMBRYO 155 THE BRUNETTE And you don t know me? I was the girl you rescued! THE YOUNG MAN You the girl? THE BRUNETTE (smiling) Yes. THE YOUNG MAN (shaking her hand enthusiastically) By Jove, I m glad to see you. You re looking jolly well. THE BRUNETTE (coyly) Do you think so, Lord Brookfield? THE YOUNG MAN And you re as pretty as you ever were! Prettier! THE BRUNETTE Isn t it a rather late date to pay me compliments? After you pulled me out of the water to make me jump in again so that your valet could rescue me! THE YOUNG MAN (chuckling) Wasn t it a lark? THE BRUNETTE A lark? THE YOUNG MAN (sensing danger) At any rate, it s over now. You don t bear me any hard feelings? THE BRUNETTE (undecidedly) I don t know . . . THE YOUNG MAN It was the author s fault not mine. If it had been for me to decide . . . THE BRUNETTE (encouragingly) Yes, Lord Brookfield? 156 EMBRYO THE YOUNG MAN (thinking better of it) Nothing. Do you know, I ve often wondered what happened when Peters plunged in after you. THE BRUNETTE (pouting) I won t tell you. It was mean of you to make me jump in. [A stool appears suddenly. She seats herself on it. THE YOUNG MAN It was only imaginary water. THE BRUNETTE That s so. (Absentmindedly passing her hand through her knee) And I m only an imaginary girl. THE YOUNG MAN So you didn t really get wet. THE BRUNETTE No. But it was the mental pain that mattered most. THE YOUNG MAN The mental pain? [He leans on the back of a chair which appears conveniently. THE BRUNETTE When Peters came tearing through the shrubbery shouting, "HT m coming! HT m coming!" I never could stand a Cockney accent. I believe I fainted. THE YOUNG MAN (alarmed) Fainted? Fainted in the water? THE BRUNETTE Yes, Lord Brookfield. I would have drowned if I had been a real girl. It was very dangerous. \_She rises. Her stool vanishes. EMBRYO 157 THE YOUNG MAN (penitently) Well, well! (Trying to change the subject) Do you remember "Catesby? " THE BRUNETTE No. THE YOUNG MAN "Catesby!" You don t remember "Catesby"? [_As he takes a step away from his chair, it, too, rajiishes. THE BRUNETTE I wasn t in it. THE YOUNG MAN But you were! I knew you the moment I saw you! You were my ideal, the girl I had been looking for all my life. You were the girl who was going to marry Catesby! [_A blonde young girl, wearing a large, floppy hat, and carrying a daintily embroidered parasol, appearing abruptly out of the nowhere. THE BLONDE No, I was. THE BRUNETTE Foti? THE BLONDE (condescendingly) I m the author s favorite heroine. (Turning to the young man) Don t you know me yet? Listen: I ll snore for you. You first saw me when I was asleep. [She snores. THE YOUNG MAN Why, of course! (Taking her in his arms, and kissing her eagerly) Dearest! 158 EMBRYO THE BLONDE (over hlS shoulder) You see? I m sweet, and simple, and innocent, and perfectly adorable! THE BRUNETTE You don t think much of yourself, do you? THE BLONDE (with childish naivete) Wouldn t anybody like a girl like me? I m pretty, and affectionate, and just too dear for words ! They all of them fall in love with me. Even the author! He told me it gives him a twinge every time one of his characters marries me : he d like to do it himself. THE BRUNETTE Hang the author! THE YOUNG MAN (horror-stricken) What did you say? THE BLONDE (very seriously) Never say it again! If they hanged the author, where would we be? THE YOUNG MAN We exist only in his mind. THE BRUNETTE (resolutely) Well, he ought to be hanged, anyway. He makes life a perfect agony to me. He doesn t care for bru nettes, and he makes me pay for it. But how he can like that spineless jellyfish over there ! It s a mystery to me! A mystery! THE BLONDE (almost weeping) Now, isn t that just like a villainess? Boo! THE BRUNETTE Don t say "Boo" to me! EMBRYO 159 THE BLONDE I will if I like. I ll say worse things than that! (Her eyes light up) Oh, Peters told me all about what happened to you in "The Noble Lord." THE YOUNG MAN (interrupting curiously) Where did you meet Peters? THE BLONDE (simply} He was Nora the cook in "Playing With Fire." (She turns to the brunette) Peters told me all about you. You made believe you were drowning, and Lord Brookfield knew that you made believe, so he told you he was only the valet, and got you to jump back into the water for Peters to rescue. And it served her good and right, didn t it, Mr. Catesby? [The brunette turns angrily on her heel and vanishes. THE YOUNG MAN Don t mind her, dearest. THE BLONDE (tossing her head) She s nothing but an old villainess! THE YOUNG MAN It s an important part. THE BLONDE Not when I m in the play! (She looks at him curi ously) You weren t in "Playing With Fire?" I haven t seen you since "Catesby," have I? THE YOUNG MAN No. (He smiles) Do you remember how I forced you to talk to me? THE BLONDE Um humh ! [She sits on a stool which appears for the purpose. 160 EMBRYO THE YOUNG MAN That mosquito on your arm. [Sitting on another stool next to her. THE BLONDE You woke me up by killing it. THE YOUNG MAN Did you know it was a dead mosquito? THE BLONDE What? THE YOUNG MAN I caught it on my ankle, and I put it on your arm to get a chance to wake you up. THE BLONDE (smiling) I oughtn t to know, but if I tell you something, you won t repeat it? THE YOUNG MAN No. THE BLONDE (putting her mouth to his ear) I wasn t really asleep! THE YOUNG MAN (surprised) What? THE BLONDE (laughing) I m not so innocent as I look! THE YOUNG MAN You couldn t be. THE BLONDE No. I knew that you were Catesby all the time. I saw you register, and I waited for you! THE YOUNG MAN I ll be jiggered! [He rises. His stool vanishes. EMBRYO 161 THE BLONDE It s all right telling you as long as the audience doesn t know it. THE YOUNG MAN (dazed) What do you think of that? I would have sworn you didn t know! THE BLONDE Of course you would. I m such a simple little thing. (He looks at her suspiciously) I really am. Every body loves me. THE YOUNG MAN And I wasted a proposal on you. THE BLONDE It wasn t wasted. I accepted it. [As she rises, her stool disappears. THE YOUNG MAN What difference did it make whether you accepted it or didn t accept it? We didn t get married, did we? And we re not going to get married? THE BLONDE Of course not. The audience doesn t care whether we get married or not: they just want to see me ac cept you. That s all. And I m sure you ve proposed to a dozen girls since then. THE YOUNG MAN Certainly. What did you expect? THE BLONDE Did they all accept you? , THE YOUNG MAN Almost all of them. THE BLONDE (sighing) It s nice to be the hero, isn t it? 162 EMBRYO THE YOUNG MAN It s bound to be nice. I m the author s favorite character. You should have seen me in "The Pre vious Engagement." I was all there was to it! THE BRUNETTE (appearing unexpectedly) What do you mean? That you were the whole show? THE YOUNG MAN I was more than that! I was the only character in the play ! Just me, and two telephones, and a dumb waiter, and a phonograph, and a dog, and the fellow who lived next door and who told me to drink ginger ale with two limes in it. THE BRUNETTE (cuttingly) I suppose that that was the first time in your life that you had as much of the spotlight as you wanted ! THE YOUNG MAN (disregarding her) It was the first time in my life that I got a drink of any kind in any play of his, and I ve been in forty- five of them! (With deep disgust) And the drink was ginger ale with two limes in it! Whew! THE BRUNETTE (impatiently) Well, what s this play about? THE YOUNG MAN Which one? THE BRUNETTE The one we re in. THE BLONDE It s unfinished. THE YOUNG MAN Unfinished? Why, he hasn t begun to write it. THE BRUNETTE (wearily) Of course. That s why we re here. EMBRYO 163 THE YOUNG MAN I m a cynical young man again, I ll bet a hat! THE BRUNETTE An imaginary hat? THE YOUNG MAN Isn t that kind good enough for you? THE BRUNETTE I Well, you re on. THE YOUNG MAN All right. THE BLONDE I m going to be the young married woman. I feel it coming. And you ll be the hussy who tries to take him away from me! THE BRUNETTE What? THE BLONDE But you won t get him! (Taking the young man s arm) You never get him. I think you would have given up trying by this time! THE YOUNG MAN Don t blame her, dear. It s the author s fault. THE BRUNETTE Look! THE BLONDE What is it? THE BRUNETTE I ve found part of the program! THE YOUNG MAN (much excited) Let me see! (They all look) 164 EMBRYO (THE PROGRAM) THE SUBSTITUTE A PLAY IN ONE ACT CHARACTERS: , a dead man. , his wife. MABEL TREVELYAN THE SCENE: \_A huge sheet of paper, thus lettered, has appeared at the back. THE BRUNETTE (reading aloud) "The Substitute, "a play in one act. Characters: blank, a dead man; blank, his wife; Mabel; Trevelyan. The scene: there isn t any. THE YOUNG MAN Good Lord! THE BLONDE (sniffing) It s going to be a tragedy ! A dead man ! THE BRUNETTE How can it be a tragedy? The dead man s dead already, isn t he? Besides, I like thrillers. {They look around timidly. At the rear they discern a long, recumbent figure wrapped in a shroud. EMBRYO 165 THE YOUNG MAN There he is! [He moves towards him. THE BLONDE (clinging to his arm) Oh, don t touch him! I m afraid! THE BRUNETTE He isn t real. What s the difference? THE YOUNG MAN (lifting the shroud from the dead man s face) Peters! By all that s holy! THE BLONDE (with equal surprise) Nora! THE YOUNG MAN Are you dead, Peters? THE DEAD MAN Quite dead, me Lord. THE BRUNETTE Well, well, well! I don t like the looks of this; not at all! THE BLONDE It doesn t begin cheerfully, does it? THE DEAD MAN (speaking through his shroud) I should say not, darlint! THE BLONDE Oh, why doesn t the author wake up? Why must he take a nap just after he s started to write the play? We might as well be nowheres! THE BRUNETTE We are nowheres. [During the following, the characters seat themselves from time to time, chairs or stools invariably appear- 166 EMBRYO ing at the precise instant they are needed, and vanish ing immediately they are no longer required. THE YOUNG MAN (who has been thinking hard) I be lieve I ve got the story. THE BLONDE (breathlessly) Well? THE YOUNG MAN (turning to the brunette) He s dead. You re "his wife." THE BRUNETTE Widow. THE YOUNG MAN It says wife on the program. THE BRUNETTE Then the program s wrong. THE YOUNG MAN The program can t be wrong. THE BRUNETTE It must be. The wife of a dead man is a widow. THE YOUNG MAN (exasperated) In a minute you ll be telling the author how to write the play! THE BRUNETTE Why not? I couldn t do any worse than he does. THE YOUNG MAN Well, so long as I don t have to be in love with you, I don t care what you do. THE BRUNETTE Don t worry! My smart, cynical friend! THE BLONDE Mr. Catesby, what s your plot? EMBRYO 167 THE YOUNG MAN (relieved) Well, the title s "The Substitute," and I must be Trevelyan. That s right, isn t it? THE BRUNETTE (tJlOUghtfldhj) Of course you might be "Mabel" or even "his wife." THE YOUNG MAN Eh? THE BRUNETTE I didn t say anything. THE YOUNG MAN Now, if there s a substitute, I can t be it. THE BLONDE Why not? THE YOUNG MAN Because the substitute has been killed, and I m alive. THE BLONDE How wonderful you are! THE YOUNG MAN It s a war play. I was drafted, but "his wife," that is to say, my wife, wouldn t let me go. THE BRUNETTE Ha! THE YOUNG MAN Well? THE BRUNETTE I couldn t be your wife. THE YOUNG MAN WTiy not? THE BRUNETTE Doesn t it say "his?" THE YOUNG MAN What of it? 168 EMBRYO THE BRUNETTE "His" doesn t mean yours. Besides, if I had been yours, do you think I would have stopped you from going to war? Ha! THE YOUNG MAN That s the second time you ve said "Ha!" THE BRUNETTE I meant it each time. THE BLONDE Yes, yes, go on with the story. THE YOUNG MAN Well, my wife wouldn t let me go to the war (he glares triumphantly at the brunette), so the dead man went instead that is, he went before he was dead. THE BRUNETTE (sotto VOCe) And you said you were smart and cynical! Smart and cynical! THE YOUNG MAN He was killed in my place gave his life for me, all that sort of thing, you know. And my wife was very much pleased. THE BRUNETTE (incredulously) Pleased? (Confidentially, to the ceiling) The word was "smart." S-m-a-r-t, smart. THE BLONDE How about Mabel? THE YOUNG MAN You re Mabel. Mabel is the dead man s daughter. THE BLONDE (with a smile of pleasure) So Nora is my father? THE YOUNG MAN Yes. Your poor, dead father, who gave his life for me. EMBRYO 169 THE BLONDE What a hero! THE YOUNG MAN It s a very sad play. THE BRUNETTE What happens after the body is brought home? THE YOUNG MAN Nothing. THE BRUNETTE Nothing? THE YOUNG MAN Nothing at all. It s the end of the play. What do you think of it? THE BRUNETTE What I think? Do you want to know what I really think? THE YOUNG MAN (unsteadily) Of of course. THE BRUNETTE Well, I think you re much cleverer when the author writes your lines! [Satisfied with her retort, she turns her back on him. Suddenly an all-pervading yawn is heard, apparently from everyicheres at once, and the Author, a tall, slightly bald, lazy young man, appears on the scene. THE YOUNG MAN (in a sotto voce to the blonde) Hist! Here s the author. THE BLONDE Have you had a pleasant nap, sir? THE AUTHOR (who is polite even to imaginary ladies) Very refreshing, thank you. (He refers to a scrap of 170 EMBRYO paper) To the right, a door. (As he speaks the door appears in the place indicated) To the left, French windows, through which comes the glow of an Au tumn sunset. (Windows and sunset appear. He in spects them carefully, then adds) Heavily curtained. (The curtains are instantly in place) There is a handsomely carved table no a grand piano. (the table, which has become visible, vanishes, and is immediately replaced by the piano) and at center (he pauses in surprise) What on earth is this? THE DEAD MAN I m a dead man, sir. THE AUTHOR What? THE YOUNG MAN A dead man. It says so in the program. THE AUTHOR Let me see it. (he smiles) It s a misprint. It should read "Deaf Man." Get up. (Referring to his notes again) At the center, a fireplace. The room is tastefully, even beautifully furnished. (As he speaks the scene is transformed gradually. The lights which shine upon the audience die out, to be replaced by the usual stage lighting. The Author surveys the change with approbation) That s right! (He singles out the young man) You re Trevelyan, a young fellow about town, rather smart and cynical. THE YOUNG MAN (to the brunette) What did I tell you? You owe me a hat. THE AUTHOR (addressing the brunette) The deaf man is your husband. But you re in love with Trevelyan. EMBRYO 171 THE YOUNG MAN Good Lord! THE AUTHOR You take advantage of your husband s deafness to make love to Trevelyan in his presence. And Mabel (he looks for the blonde) where are you, dear? THE BLONDE Here, sir. THE AUTHOR You re Mabel the deaf man s sister. You re sweet, and simple, and innocent, and perfectly adorable. THE BLONDE (curtsying) Thank you, sir. THE AUTHOR Now here s the story. The wife is in love with Tre velyan, and Mabel finds it out accidentally by read ing a letter. She wants to save her brother s honor. But where is the brother? (He turns to the deaf man) Come a little nearer, will you? THE DEAF MAN (talking on his fingers) You seem to forget my affliction, sir. \_The Young Man, reading the deaf and dumb language, speaks the words aloud as he deciphers them. He does the same for the Author s reply. THE AUTHOR (answering him in deaf and dumb lan guage) Ah, yes! I ll explain it all to you after wards. (He turns to the blonde) Where did I leave you, dear? THE BLONDE Saving my brother s honor, sir. 172 EMBRYO THE AUTHOR Quite so. You have found out that the wife loves Trevelyan, and even though you have never met him you come down from the country to do what you can. The moment Trevelyan sees you it s all over. THE BRUNETTE What do you mean, "all over?" THE AUTHOR I mean (snapping his fingers) she cuts you out like that! THE BRUNETTE (furiously) I won t play! THE AUTHOR (with the smile of conscious power) No? But I fancy you will! (He turns to the blonde) You make Trevelyan fall in love with you, dear, and then, when you ve got him . . . THE BLONDE Yes? THE AUTHOR (smiling) The finish is a surprise. I ll tell you when we come to it. Now, as the curtain rises, THE CURTAIN FALLS NOTES ON THE PLAYS NOTES ON THE PLAYS THE SEQUEL As printed in the text, the stage directions describing the entrance of Horrocks, Inc., are intended chiefly for the entertainment of the reader. The actor who plays the part will find it next to impossible to create the desired impression unless he be given a few lines of actual dialogue. The prompt copy should there fore read as follows: THE BUTLER (announcing hastily) Mr. Horrocks! [There is a rush. The Butler is swept aside and Horrocks, Inc., stands in his place., etc. HORROCKS, INC. (advancing upon his son, almost incohereni in his anger) You you you you you you you ! HE (interrupting, aghast) Father! HORROCKS, IXC. Don t call me that! Oh, don t call me that! [He rushes at his son as if he would brain him. But his clenched fist stops under the young man s nose, and, for the first time, one notices that it brandishes a crumpled sheet of paper. HE (taking it, panic-stricken) Wh-what she wrote you? HORROCKS, IXC. What she wrote me; yes, what she wrote me! Ha! HE (backing away) May I read it? 176 NOTES ON THE PLAYS HORROCKS, INC. Read it? Oh, yes! Read it! Go ahead! Read it! HE (still retreating from the impending destruction] "Dear Mister Department Store ..." (With incredulous appeal) You wrote that, Milly? HORROCKS, INC. Go on! Go on! HE "Please call for goods to be returned." THE CURTAIN FALLS GENTLY In the production, both Milly and the Butler should be on the stage at the fall of the curtain. Indeed, neither should move after the entrance of Horrocks, for fear of injuring the final situation. The Butler should stand exactly where Horrocks has flung him; Milly should remain at the spot where she was when she delivered her final line. Milly s laughter should be suppressed immediately as Horrocks begins to speak, not to be resumed until after the delivery of the last line of the play. THE PREVIOUS ENGAGEMENT In an experimental production of this little play, made before its inclusion in this volume, it was found quite possible to make a satisfactory record for the phonograph on one of the blanks sold by the Edison company for commercial purposes. The actor, need less to say, prepared and tested the record beforehand, and merely simulated its making in the actual per formance. The record was distinctly audible through out the entire theatre. NOTES ON THE PLAYS 177 IN THE NET It is hardly necessary to point out that the leading actor in this play need not go to the trouble of learn ing the art of ventriloquism. The lines assigned to Wilks while Murdoch is speaking, are delivered by an additional actor off stage, whose voice, it goes with out saying, should resemble that of \Yilks as nearly as possible. In the same manner the additional actor, secreted at the opposite side of the stage, delivers the single phrase assigned to Murdoch at the close of the play. EMBRYO A rudimentary explanation of "Black Art" may be useful to producers of this play. If lights of sufficient, but not too great intensity, are turned upon an audience, and if the stage is draped in dead black, the movement of similarly clothed figures will be quite imperceptible. Assistants, garbed in black from head to foot, may move about the stage without the audience being aware of their presence, if they take the single precaution never to allow their figures to interpose between any purposely visible object and the spectators. Thus "appearing" means nothing more nor less than that the black cloth, which has concealed a cer tain object or person, is suddenly removed, and "dis appearing" means the reverse of the process. The white stools or chairs which are used from time to time are hidden under black cloths in their intervals of "invisibility," and so hidden, are moved from 178 NOTES ON THE PLAYS place to place by the assistants, who, while never ap parent to the audience, are always discernible to the actors. The Program, when it has served its purpose, is suddenly turned around, and quite invisible because of its blackened reverse, is removed by the assistants at their leisure. The characters of the play are dressed in colors which are visible against the black background. The Brunette, however, wears a dead black skirt, contain ing a large pocket sewn only at one side and the bot tom. By passing her hand through it she obtains the effect of passing her hand through her knee. Additional illusions may be obtained if the resources of the theatre permit. Thus steps, or the expedient of standing on the invisible piano itself, permit the actors to "appear" at different levels without any visible means of support. The final scene, fully set and concealed when the curtain rises, will be dis closed, following the Author s dialogue, as one cloth after another is whisked away. I THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE. APR 17 V7 ^ ftfR (IH T t f\~- . 778 . REG, CIILOCT 1 ^ 77 / U. C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY