THE FATHER HENRY COPLEY GREENE v/ r THE FATHER PERSONS OF THE PLAY JOHN WATSON A Capitalist MRS. WATSON His Wife RALPH 'Their Son MAR GAR ETTA Their Daughter ELIZABETH WOOD A Singer TIME : September, 1 8 96 PLACE : Mr. Watson s house at Mount Desert THE PATH ER & Bratna By HENRY COPLEY GREENE Author of "Pontius Pilate," "Theophile" "Plains and Uplands of France," Etc., Etc. MCMV THE MONADNOCK PRESS NELSON, N. H. Copyright, 1904, by HENRY COPLEY GREENE ACT I The Parlor. Doors left and right. In the center, a table; on it, around a simple but handsome lamp, magazines, a novel or two, larger books, a portfolio, and some em- broidery. Near the embroidery, two chairs, one standing askew. Against the right- hand wall and under a framed photograph of Lincoln, a stiff wooden chair ; in the cor- ner further back, an arm-chair. To the left of it, an open window, and nearer the middle a glass door, through both of which the darkening afterglow of sunset is seen. Over a corner fireplace to the left, on the brick mantelpiece, a vase of white roses and a photograph of Duse. Between them a cast of "La Femme Inconnue." MARGARETTA turns from the window and stands glancing quickly back and forth from the roses to the photographs, takes a photograph of Elizabeth from the portfolio on the table, sets it beside the photograph of Duse, and seats herself in the rocking-chair. MRS. WATSON Not yet, Margaretta. MARGARETTA Who, Momps? MRS. WATSON Your father, dear. MARGARETTA Oh! Prob'ly he stopped in Bar Har- bor for grub, you know. MRS. WATSON "Grub"? ii MARGARETTA Well, feed, Mommy darling, if you pre- fer it. MRS. WATSON I really prefer English. MARGARETTA But Momps MRS. WATSON Listen ! 7 herself j^ MARGARETTA What are you celebrating? MRS. WATSON I thought I heard the horn. I told Peters to blow it when he got to the turning, so that I could be at the door to meet your father. Is that Elizabeth? of the photograph on the table MARGARETTA Sure. MRS. WATSON Why not have kept her with the rest of your friends ? MARGARETTA She 's a celebrity ; anyhow, she 's going to be. And then, I want Pa to see her as soon as he arrives. So there she is in bis room, too, in case he goes right up. 12 MRS. WATSON But he '11 see her herself. MARGARETTA Will he ? She 's liable, you know, to take most as long coming from the beach as Dad from Idaho ! MRS. WATSON She does delight in it. MARGARETTA It 's perfect fizz for her, specially when Ralph 's along. MRS. WATSON And Ralph is * along" now? MARGARETTA Sure. MRS. WATSON Margaretta, do you realize how you mur- der the Queen's English? MARGARETTA No worse than Elizabeth. MRS. WATSON That 's hardly true, dear, except when she makes fun of you. And even if it were true, she would be hardly a good model for you. Her mother could not give her your advantages; and in the last years she seems to have lived in really . . . rather Putting aside the embroidery After a pause With serious mi ensity Lighting the lamp Bohemian surroundings . . .with singular sweetness, I admit. I am not condemn- ing her. She 's wonderfully kind to you, with her sunrise walks and her rid- ing and singing ; and then she has . . . well . . . the sort of genius that trans- figures almost impossible remarks. MARGARETTA And capers? MRS. WATSON Yes, actions, too. Yet, some of them, even lit up with her special exquisite- ness, I could hardly bear in my daughter. MARGARETTA Getting up Momps ! MRS. WATSON Well, dear. MARGARETTA You wouldn 't mind 'em, would you, in your daughter-/w-/tfw ? MRS. WATSON It hasn't come to that? MARGARETTA But s'pose it had. MRS. WATSON Ralph would have told me. MARGARETTA On the arm of her mother's Of COUrSC, dearest. chair 1. And they 're not even engaged; at least, when they went out they were n't. I almost hope they aren't. They both seemed so ecstatically full of fears. d pause Was yours like that? MRS. WATSON Your father's love and mine? Yes, dear, for a while. MARGARETTA "A while"? MRS. WATSON You know we 're happy. MARGARETTA Um ! I do know you 're good. But sometimes, sometimes, you know, I do long to see you both, oh, just beautifully bad! MRS. WATSON That 's worse than . . . Elizabeth. MARGARETTA Looking her in the eyes How you hate her! MRS. WATSON No, in a way I almost love her. And yet . Margaretta, do you think she cares for Ralph? MARGARETTA It 's as plain as the nose on your dear sweet exquisite face ! Without a smile Half to herself Interrupting Kissing her Disengaging herself Elizabeth, outside, is heard singing Sieglinde's part of the final duet in Act I of the "Walkure" Deprecatingly Mrs. Watson assents Elizabeth stops singing MRS. WATSON And if it is ? MARGARETTA Dad won't object, will he? MRS. WATSON His letter MARGARETTA He wrote? Ton wrote about her? Oh, Mommy, dear, dear Mommy! MRS. WATSON Yes, I wrote, and I tried to be fair. But- MARGARETTA Sh-sh! Does n't that convince you ? MRS. WATSON Her voice is beautiful; but the whole subject of the opera, I mean makes me shiver. MARGARETTA Hm. The brother and sister business? Yes? But then, it 's just symbolic, you know. Love and Spring and all that. Listen. Momps, dorit trouble him with your prejudices! Don't! Don't! Think how he loves her ! 16 MRS. WATSON Am I prejudiced? Even without her gift it would be a problem, Margaretta ; and with it, can a clash be avoided? Think of the con- ditions: Ralph settled, full of his prob- lems, absorbed in work and she, a singer, mixed up with managers, feted, excited, elated . . . Why, not one pair in a thousand MARGARETTA They 're one in ten thousand! MRS. WATSON Only character character rooted in gen- erations of strength nothing else could carry it through. Why, even your father with all his strength could hardly MARGARETTA Have made a bang-up success of it ? P'raps not! But Ralph 's had the benefit of fa's bringing up, and with Elizabeth ! MRS. WATSON Yes. Perhaps I hope so perhaps my instincts are deceiving me. ELIZABETH Margaretta ! I beg your pardon, Mrs. Watson. were talking ? You Getting up slowly Comically serious Without a smile joyously At the glass door, radiant A bit chilled as she sees Mrs. Watson Unconsciously Listening To Airs. Watson To Elizabeth Under her breath Getting up Suddenly radiant A moment's hesitation MARGARETTA Yes, of Ralph and the beastly poisons and acids and . . . and burners and scales and reactions, and things that he keeps up there ! And Momps thinks it 'd be better if he 'd loaf summers. I do n't, do you? ELIZABETH No-o . . . that is, yes! Why, why should he work while all the world's a heaven of silver and crimson and sea music ? MARGARETTA Do you s'pose Dad thinks Idaho 's like that ? By the way, dearest, where is Ralph ? ELIZABETH Ralph ? Oh, star-gazing somewhere. MARGARETTA Elizabeth ! MRS. WATSON Could you tell me a little more exactly, Miss Wood ? I should be sorry not to have him back when his father comes. ELIZABETH Then, then, then, Mr. Watson has n't come yet ! Oh, I am glad. I do so want to see him, as soon as he arrives. I 've heard so much of him, Mrs. Wat- 18 son, carrying the flag at Cold Harbor, when he was only a boy ! and then later, his mines and the school for singers! and now, such bravery among the rioters! Is that he? MARGARETTA No; it can't be. Momps said Peters was to blow the horn when they got to the turning. Didn't you, Momps? MRS. WATSON Peters might have forgotten. MARGARETTA Peters never forgets. ELIZABETH But perhaps we did n't hear it. MARGARETTA Oh, I think so. Biddies all off on a bat, Momps? ELIZABETH Or perhaps Mr. Watson told Peters to keep still so that he could surprise you. MARGARETTA That 'sit! MRS. WATSON That might be it. MARGARETTA No: I'll go. Dad, Dad, is it you? Dear old man! 19 Outside, a ring at the front Sarcastically The bell rings again Starting toward the right- hand door Also turning Sitting down again at the table Still in the doorway In the hal^ outside Outside Margaretta, returning, begins to open the telegram On the point of tossing it to her mother ELIZABETH It must be he. MARGARETTA In the doorway I should say not! MRS. WATSON No, it is n't he. MARGARETTA Thought you were Dad, Charley. Telegram ? For him ? Thanks. Office be open for an answer? TELEGRAPH BOY Outside All night, Miss Watson. MARGARETTA Good night. TELEGRAPH BOY Good night. MRS. WATSON Margaretta ! What are you thinking of? MARGARETTA That's so; it's the same one they 'phoned over, two hours ago, of course. Cipher, too. You have n V got the code ? Truly-ruly ? So help you . . . Saint Patrick ? MRS. WATSON Certainly not. 20 MARGARETTA All right, then. ELIZABETH Well, that wasn't Mr. Watson. But he '11 be here soon, I suppose. MRS. WATSON I think I '11 take this to his room. Yes, he said he 'd be here some time this evening. ELIZABETH Margaretta. Oh, Margaretta ! Margaretta MARGARETTA Why, what is it? ELIZABETH Dearest. MARGARETTA Then . . . you and Ralph ? ELIZABETH Ralph and I ? MARGARETTA You are ? ELIZABETH Well? MARGARETTA Are you? 21 Tossing the telegram into her lap Getting up Absently She goes out to the right Her arms about her and her cheek against her forehead Drawing back a little, she looks at her A pause Kissing her softly and slowly Holding her at arms-length and gazing into her face ELIZABETH Dearest ! MARGARETTA Oh, I was off my trolley ! when you said Ralph was "star-gazing some- where." ELIZABETH Were you, dear? MARGARETTA Yes, who wouldn't be? And then, why did n't you come back together, arm in arm, you know, sort-er walkin'-down- the-aisle- wise ? ELIZABETH I needed to be alone. MARGARETTA I do n't understand. ELIZABETH Do n't you? MARGARETTA No. ELIZABETH Well, perhaps you can 't, dear. But if all your grays had been turned golden, if everything that was gold before had grown . . . celestial; if your little body had been suddenly set quivering with a mystery that made your soul's song one 22 with the sea and stars Margaretta, Margaretta, then you would understand. A pau MARGARETTA Yes, dear, if. ELIZABETH Come. Seating herself near the table. Margaretta^ sitting in Eliza- against her shoulder There, there your soul's still such a funny little chrysalis ; but it soothes me to feel it, dear. MARGARETTA Really? ELIZABETH And now I'm warm again. MARGARETTA Did Ma frizzle you? ELIZABETH No. But it chilled me to see that her soul, you know, was still so much more frightened than she was trying not to be. MARGARETTA Elizabeth, can you pry into my insides like that? Sitting up, wide-eyed ELIZABETH Sometimes. The way she felt scares me a little even now. I 'm afraid she thinks . Tell me, what does she think of me? A pause Getting up. Leaning forward^ intensely Re-entering, right Rising Turning toward the door Trying to bridge the chasm between them MARGARETTA Do you really want to know? ELIZABETH Yes! MARGARETTA Really? ELIZABETH Yes, I say. MRS. WATSON I forget, did you tell me where to look for him, Miss Wood? ELIZABETH Who, Mrs. Watson? MRS. WATSON My son. ELIZABETH No. No, I can't have. I do n't know. We took different roads, you see. MRS. WATSON Really? Very well. ELIZABETH Won't you wait here for him? He's surely on his way. MRS. WATSON I'm afraid I should disturb you two. 24 MARGARETTA Not in the least, Mommy. Will she, dear? ELIZABETH Do stay, Mrs. Watson. MARGARETTA As I was just going to say, Elizabeth, Mommy thinks . . . that you're charming. ELIZABETH Really? MARGARETTA Yes. And . . . and exquisite. ELIZABETH " Truly-ruly ? " MARGARETTA And . . . and ... a genius! ELIZABETH Really? MRS. WATSON Yes. MARGARETTA But then she thinks you 're ELIZABETH Well? MARGARETTA Unconventional! Supremely To Elizabeth Mrs. If^atson sits dtrwn to her embroidery With roguish sternness Relenting With gentle humor A pause MRS. WATSON Margaretta ! ELIZABETH With a quizzically birdlike Um ? MARGARETTA And ELIZABETH And what, dear? MARGARETTA Freakish ! MRS. WATSON My child! MARGARETTA Maliciously Fresh ! MRS. WATSON Be still, Margaretta! MARGARETTA Light! ELIZABETH Standing up, reproachfully On ! MARGARETTA As Mrs. Watson aho gets up And in comparison with Ralph Pompously who is "rooted in generations of strength " rather weak. ELIZABETH Perhaps so ... yes . . . 26 MRS. WATSON Margaretta, you 're simply unpardonable. Miss Wood, if you will come to me a little later, I will explain what Marga- retta has so misstated. ELIZABETH You are very kind, Mrs. Watson. MARGARETTA "Misstated ? " Understated not stated at all! Great Gosh! with her whims and her notions about being " rooted in generations of strength," and then her letters to Dad, why we've just got to be candid. Anyhow I shall be, and if you are n't, why then you are weak very. Elizabeth. Elizabeth ! Elizabeth ! Dearest. Forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt. ELIZABETH There's nothing to forgive, dear; it's true, I am weak. MARGARETTA But but you won 'f be, dear ? ELIZABETH No, I hope not, I hope not. As Elizabeth walks noiselessly away 'Turning Mrs. IV at son goes out to the right After an astonished pause Seeing Elizabeth quiver No answer Silence Her arms about her Kneeling Raising Margaretta 's face with her right hand, while with the left she smooths back the hair Ralph appears at the French window Her eves fix id on Ralph Getting up and dodging back as Ralph enters and takes both of Elizabeth's hands Facing her After a disconcerted instant, embracing and embraced Her hand on Ralph's shoulders Kissing her To Elizabeth Forcing herself to chase her with hand-clappings Margaretta goes out right, leaving the door ajar Elizabeth, returning and pass- ing Ralph slowly, sinks into Mrs. Watson's chair RALPH May I come in? ELIZABETH May you? MARGARETTA " Sweet dreams, Margaretta " ? ELIZABETH You '11 tell your mother he 's back, won't you, and then to bed, dear ? MARGARETTA Yes, but I 'm to come for you at sunrise? ELIZABETH " Sure ! " MARGARETTA Good night. Dear old man, good night. RALPH Sleep tight. MARGARETTA One more ? ELIZABETH Yes, and now Scoo-oo-oo-oo-oot ! 28 RALPH Elizabeth ! You have n't been doubting yourself? Of course not. You are n't so cow- ardly. And / never used to be a coward. I was n't even much afraid of not win- ning you ELIZABETH Archly Ralph! RALPH But coming back, alone under the stars, I met the fear of losing you. And I found that only years of life with you could lift me high enough to face it. ELIZABETH I 'm glad you think I help you. And you know I'm even rather glad *>>" 1 i ' i -s T- i embroidery that you were morbid ? / can t always cage my black-winged thoughts Looking up. and free the nightingales. RALPH Something has been troubling you. ELIZABETH Yes, I was afraid, I'm still afraid, that you're building on illusions. RALPH Nonsense ! 29 and down With a flash of gay triumph ELIZABETH No, Ralph. You're even and wise and strong, dear, so you do n't see that I'm impulsive, freakish, weak. RALPH But Elizabeth ELIZABETH Another thing: I'm afraid that even you can't change me very fast. RALPH Jumping up, and walking up Change you ! Change you ! Tou, Eliza- beth ! I would n't have you different ELIZABETH Come, do n't protest too much. It is n't " moderate." RALPH Great Heaven . . . ! ELIZABETH S-s-sh ! Do n't swear, dear. It is n't " conventional." RALPH And suppose it is n'f. MRS. WATSON Margaretta ! RALPH Elizabeth ! You look as if the uni- verse were coining to an end. 30 Roguishly Outside em, your ELIZABETH She is wise . . . terribly . . . MARGARETTA Mummy ! If you interrupt blood be on your head! That's a kind, considerate Mummy. Good night. ELIZABETH She 's gone ! RALPH I see it now. What you were saying about being freakish and weak, my mother didn't say to you, of course. But she did say it? ELIZABETH Yes. RALPH Try as she will, dear, I 'm afraid she' 11 never understand you. But when she's once accepted you ELIZABETH If she accepts me ! RALPH She will. And when she does, will you ELIZABETH Do all I can to understand her ? and see things 3 1 Half to herself Outside A pause T'he door shuts In quiet delight Stalking to the dtor and back again After another turn Getting up With a little shiver as she does ? . . . for your sake ? That is what you were going to say, is n't it ? Yes, I will. But now, I must tell you why, in all these minutes that ought to have been radiant, I 've been so little . . . the girl you love. RALPH Moods can't change you, dear. ELIZABETH Do you know what I really am ? I 'm not " rooted," like you, " in generations of strength." My weakness is rooted in weakness. My mother RALPH I know, I know. ELIZABETH No, not what I know; that her joy must once have been too passionately exquisite for this world, and her sorrow so terrible that sometimes, even in the later years, I 've seen her shaken to the depths with great gusts of it. RALPH That I didn't know; even now I do n't quite understand. ELIZABETH Nor I. A silence But it shows me how deep my wildness 32 and my weakness lie. . . . Ralph, ought you, with all the great things that de- pend on you, ought you to hamper yourself with me ? RALPH I 'm nothing without you. ELIZABETH w tth wisf f u i gayety Nonsense, nonsense. RALPH No, dearest, sense. Since you 've lit up my world for me, problems that used to be dark and shapeless have glimmered into crystals. I begin to see almost a new universe. ELIZABETH Because of me, Ralph ? RALPH Because of you. ELIZABETH Then you '11 take me, still ? RALPH Take you ? ELIZABETH Just as I am? Whatever I am? RALPH Kissing her Yes ! Yes ! ELIZABETH You may have to do it pretty soon, then ! 33 RALPH Have to ? ELIZABETH I may make you . . . make off with me . . . to-morrow. RALPH Half delighted, half increduloui Elizabeth ! ELIZABETH Yes. If your father 's going to analyze and dissect me, if he begins, even con- siderately, to sort and pigeon-hole my traits RALPH That 's not his way. He 's whole- hearted, straight - forward, impulsive, with all his firmness ! ELIZABETH But your mother 's been writing. RALPH Not to prejudice him ! ELIZABETH But if she^j-by mistake, if for any rea- son he 's cold, you won 't wait, will you, to see my soul sliced and put on a slide and stared at through a microscope ? RALPH Do you realize what men would say if I " made off with you "? 34 ELIZABETH I know, I know, just what they have said, that you 're so rich and I, so poor. I used to mind that. But now, I'm glad you can have the fun of giving me things. RALPH So am I, very. But that is n't it. The things they'd say now, dearest, would seem almost to lower our love. ELIZABETH That can V be lowered. RALPH Not for us ELIZABETH Hark ! He 's coming. And that horn of his would sound like the last trump to me if we couldn't . . .just ride away. It is n't that I mind the pain, Ralph at least I think not but the pettiness, the ugliness. RALPH Do n't think you must plead with me. If it is n't all gladness, if there 's a word of questioning ELIZABETH We '11 ride off and away ? with the breath of sunrise in our faces and the dew on the grass and the branches ? 35 A coach horn is heard It sounds again, nearer Seeing her sensitiveness Indistinct voices are heard out- side to the right Impulsively Turning toward the door to the left, playfully Going out RALPH And the sea booming on the rocks. ELIZABETH And then, after a day all joy in the mountains, when we 're married, you and I, shall we come back and confound them? RALPH Yes! ELIZABETH He 's here ! RALPH That's his voice. ELIZABETH No, I do n't want to see him yet. Good night ! Good-bye ! Say I went to bed exhausted, hours and hours and hours ago. But come and tell me what he says. And if he does n't just hug the idea of me, then at sunrise ? ! RALPH We'll have our gallop. CURTAIN ACT II Mr. Watson's room. A window to the right; near it, a closet door. To the left, back, another door ; on the left, forward, a third. In the center of the room, a large plain table with a green-shaded student lamp, an inkstand, a pile of letters and telegrams, a few books, a photograph of Elizabeth. To the left of the table, a leather-covered arm- chair ; to the right, a lighter chair of wood; against the wall, right, a third chair. In the whole gray room, no ornaments, only a portrait of Airs. Watson hanging to the left, and over the door at the back, two flags. MRS. WATSON Are you sure you won't have supper? MR. WATSON Quite, thank you. I stopped at the Commodore's, you see; a miraculous dinner, souffles, jellies, champagne. After that, anything else would be a sacrilege ! Yes ... Yes ... Where's Ralph? MRS. WATSON There 's another, John, in cipher. I know, because they telephoned it first, as usual. MR. WATSON After me again, those brokers ? "In view of rumors, mining stocks fall. Do I wish to sell out my interest?" 39 Entering, left front, and turning as Mr. Watson, in a light woolen traveling suit, follows her into the room Looking over the telegrams Putting them down Pointing to the table Opening the telegrams Translating by means of a code-book which he takes from his pocket Tossing aside telegram and book Smiling Ironically Grave A pause Laughing Winding his watch and laying it on the table Nonsense! . . . "They await my reply"? They can wait. Where 's Ralph, Mabel? MRS. WATSON I left him with this friend of Marga- retta's. MR. WATSON Margaretta's? And Margaretta ? She's with them ? MRS. WATSON No, in bed. She left word, though, twice, that you were to kiss her in her sleep. Her soul, she "guessed," would "know it and hug you." MR. WATSON How like her; the "hug," I mean. The "soul" sounds rather . . . different. MRS. WATSON She has been changing. MR. WATSON Not losing her drollery? MRS. WATSON No. If anything, that 's grown on her. MR. WATSON Good! Good! But, Mabel, I 've been thinking about her a good deal in crossing the plains. 40 MRS. WATSON And what came of it ? MR. WATSON Well, in the end . . . in the end it seemed to me that if you or I should die, Mabel, or if any great shock should come to her, she 'd grow up in a twinkling. MRS. WATSON She is growing up. MR. WATSON You don't mean she's got sentimental? MRS. WATSON Far from it. But this extraordinary friend of hers seems to have opened her eyes almost startlingly on life. MR. WATSON Urn. I don't wonder. Even your rather guarded letters gave me an impression of great charm. Has Ralph been here all along? MRS. WATSON Yes, breaking promise after promise to pay visits, on the Shore and in the Adi- rondacks. MR. WATSON Will she take him? Seating herself at the table He takes off his coat and waist- coat, bangs them in the closet, puts on his smoking jacket and comes back Lighting a cigar A pause Smiling MRS. WATSON Without a smile From what Margaretta says, I 'm afraid she will, unless you interfere. MR. WATSON Why, you wrote she was delightful, almost a genius MRS. WATSON Yes; but weak! MR. WATSON Does Ralph need a Hercules? MRS. WATSON And they're>both so in the clouds! MR. WATSON Such a rare symptom! MRS. WATSON Don't be sarcastic, John ; I 'm troubled, really. He lays down his dgar My reasons sound paltry, I know, and yet . . . their love is such a tissue of dreams and folly and song that I can't imagine it surviving the strains of life. MR. WATSON Need there be strains ? There 's money enough. As for other things . . . He falls silent, a look of pain she won't have to suffer as you had to suffer ... He won't have to suffer as I had to suffer in telling . . . you before we were married 42 MRS. WATSON John! MR. WATSON As you wish, Mabel. You re right. That 's past. And now, at this very moment, perhaps, Ralph and she are planning out their life. Would you have me thwart them? MRS. WATSON Only for their sake. MR. WATSON For their sake? It turned out useless, you know, my taking this with me. There was n't a miner in Idaho that could n't have "got the drop on me." Won't they be a good deal like that? MRS. WATSON You brought your men to their senses. MR. WATSON Mabel, in such a love as Ralph's must be, there 's something that I for one hate to interfere with. In spite of its folly, if there is folly in it, it may lift a man higher than he 'd climb without it. 43 Gently, as she leans across the table Taking her hand Mr WatSOn. MR. WATSON Taking her hand Tl T not tO J ud g e me harshly. ELIZABETH I can't understand you. But I know you would n't give me pain unless . . . unless . . . Turning toward the door Good night. MR. WATSON Good night, Elizabeth. ELIZABETH To Ralph, who follows her No, Ralph, Stay! She goes out, left-front RALPH Turning as the door shuts How can you let worldlincss weigh 58 against such gentleness ? How could you let her go?! MR. WATSON jf te I have been talking with your mother RALPH My mother? MR. WATSON Yes. RALPH My decision 's made. MR. WATSON Very well, Ralph. But before you . . . carry it out, I must tell you certain things. First, my affairs just now are in a crit- ical state. I 've received telegrams this evening which mean that we must live very care- fully for a while. The rioting has be- gun again; the mines are on fire. RALPH I 'm sorry, sir. MR. WATSON I might have sold out, Ralph ; but the loss would have been ruinous. As it is, we shall recover in the end. RALPH And meantime you think that I can't support my wife? 59 Indicating the papers on the table Wincing at the "sir* He stops to study Ralph's jc> MR. WATSON Not that you can't. But the scientific work you care for ... RALPH Is unremunerative. Yes, I know. MR. WATSON Have you a right to sacrifice it? RALPH I think so. MR. WATSON After pacing across the room Very well. There 's another thing which I hoped to put off. Sit down, please. RALPH I we both need our night's sleep, I think. MR. WATSON Try not to be so hard. RALPH I? To you?! MR. WATSON I know I seem hard. Ralph, I need to be near you. RALPH If only we could be friends again ! If you only would make it possible ! But I can't understand you. 60 MR. WATSON Sit down; listen. You shall understand me. RALPH Anything you can say will only separate us more. MR. WATSON Perhaps, and yet you must know. Ralph, when I first knew your mother or thought that I knew her I drifted into what seemed deep friendship with the wife of well, no matter about his name. Her tenderness and mystery brought me joy that grew into passion. It seemed to lift me above the real world. But the storm came. It brought us ... to the earth. RALPH You left her? MR. WATSON I tried, with all my power, to make her let me claim her before the world. She had nothing but scorn justly for the "illusion" that had made me too weak to protect her against herself. I have n't seen her since. She hid her- self away. RALPH Ah, now I know! 61 Seating himself also as Ralph obeys Controlling himself A pause during which Ralph glances toward the portrait of his mother, then back at Mr. Watson A pause Getting up suddenly Mr. Watson stands to receive the blows Striding forward MR. WATSON Are you sure you understand ? RALPH I understand and despise you. Not for your sin I could forgive you that but for your trying to stifle love with tales of your "illusion" trying to turn me to some . . . richer woman, as you turned ... to my mother. MR. WATSON Ralph, listen RALPH No. Love can't be turned; can't be smoth- ered. Its fire and light are so unquench- able, yet keen, that I can see all your pettiness as distinctly now as that that that! MR. WATSON It blinds you. RALPH It has opened my blind eyes. MR. WATSON But RALPH Going to Mr. Watson's side ]sj o i t can > t t> e the icy communion that I see you plead for ! Call it mystic if you 62 Pushing pens and across the table pencils will, her love and mine ; but it 's rich with the blood of life. It must be ful- filled. Do you understand me now ? MR. WATSON Stop. RALPH Let me go! JVlR \VATSON Your love, Ralph, is impossible. RALPH I shall marry her within twelve hours. MR. WATSON Ralph - RALPH Let me go! MR. WATSON Not till you understand RALPH Let me go! MR. WATSON I am . . . her father. RALPH Her father? You? You, father? Father! 63 MR. WATSON I never knew it till tonight. RALPH Unsteadily seating himself We thought we had scaled Heaven . . . MR. WATSON If only I could have known. . . . RALPH If it weren't for you ! MR. WATSON Ralph, there is some comfort ; you need not suffer as I have suffered. RALPH Getting up You ' ve lived and had your " pleasure " MR. WATSON Not my pleasure. RALPH Yes and a little pain and years of happiness. MR. WATSON Don 't be ... quite merciless! RALPH You've lived and you ask for mercy? Did you show mercy when you left her mother's sin to kill her? Did you show mercy when you gave life to Elizabeth . . . and me? By the justice of God if there is one you deserve no mercy. You 64 deserve all her mother's storms of pain; and the fire forever that burns in me now; and, for Elizabeth's sake . . . MR. WATSON Forgiveness ! RALPH Never! Thank God! MRS. WATSON Is it over? May I come, John? RALPH He 's fainted, mother. You don't need me? MRS. WATSON No. She '// need you more, I think. Going Hearing Mr. Watson fall forward across the table, he turns back, strides to the table, and leaning over it, lifts his father's inert bead, looks into his face, and after letting the head sink again, bends for- ward to listen for the sound of breathing. Catching sight of the pistol under his father 1 s right hand, he takes it up and unloads it, then after listening to the breathing a moment more, strides to the door, back, and knocks Outside As she comes in Seeing Mr. Watson she starts slightly After a glance toward his father, he goes out, left CURTAIN ACT III Elizabeth's room, papered with bine, winch is figured conventionally with flight lines of white', matted floor, white woodwork. Back, right find left, two large 'Japanese photographs, colored, in ivhite frames. In the center, back, wide folding doors. Toward the back, left, a door; further forward, a broad divan', another door left front. 'To the right, two windoius curtained with white muslin. Near the center, a square white table with a vase of gentians, a few books and a blue vase lamp shaded by a Japanese paper globe. In front of the table, Elizabeth sits reading. She is dressed in a creamy dressing- wrapper of thin silk, belted in with a white silk cord. Putting down her book, she takes her watch from the table, glances at it, puts it back, and tries in vain to go on with her reading. There is a knock at the door. ELIZABETH Starting up Ralph ! MARGARETTA Entering left, back "Ralph"? At this time of night? Shocking! ELIZABETH You at this time of night ? Shocking, Margaretta, shocking, shocking! MARGARETTA I've a good reason . . . ELIZABETH He's coming to tell me what your "daddy" says. And, dear, if your "daddy" 69 doesn't just long for this daughter-in- law . . . MARGARETTA Well, dear, what? ELIZABETH Nothing much. MARGARETTA But what? ELIZABETH Oh, just that Ralph and I MARGARETTA Well? Ralph and you? ELIZABETH at dawn MARGARETTA Reproachfully Dawn, dearest ? ELIZABETH are going to gallop away and . . . get married ! MARGARETTA Instead of walking with me? Elizabeth no^Oh, you cussed, dearest darling! After a long hugEut, Elizabeth, I saw Dad when he got home. ELIZABETH So did I. 70 MARGARETTA Really? ELIZABETH Really. MARGARETTA But he didn't tell you that we 're dished, did he? ELIZABETH Why, no, dear. MARGARETTA Well, we are. Tin gone up the spout; Watsons dead broke! ELIZABETH How? MARGARETTA " Columnar. Antelope. Cash. Cod." That 's how. No, I 'm not off my head. That 's cipher. I took it over the 'phone ; and it means, " Rioting re- commences. Wires cut. Mine 's afire. Miners seize dynamite," and the stock 's fallen to sixteen. ELIZABETH Poor Mr. Watson . . . ! MARGARETTA Oh, it does n't matter for him. He 's a corker from Corkerville, and he '11 clam- ber up again before Mommy 's wiped her eyes! But you, you and Ralph 7 1 ELIZABETH Thoughtfully That 's why he was so grave. MARGARETTA What can you do ? That 's what I 've been thinking of all these hours. ELIZABETH It can't touch us, dear. MARGARETTA It can . . . put off your gallop. ELIZABETH Q a jl y Ask Ralph about that. MARGARETTA I saw Ralph an hour ago. ELIZABETH Startled Where?! MARGARETTA In the garden. I was leaning out the window, thinking ; and I saw him there walking and his head bowed down, oh, so sadly. I guess he was scheming scheming schemes to support you. He can't get the professorship now, you see, that he tossed away last spring. So he '11 have to drop science, and take to an- alyzing baking-powders and castoria ELIZABETH Margaretta ! 72 MARGARETTA and phosphates and soothing- syrups ELIZABETH Margaretta ! ! MARGARETTA and fertilizers! ELIZABETH He shan't! MARGARETTA You 've got to live, dear. ELIZABETH But I can support him. . . . MARGARETTA You?! ELIZABETH Listen. Isn't that he? Go, dear. Go, go, go ! MARGARETTA But you '11 walk with me at sunrise? That 's in half an hour, you know. ELIZABETH Yes, I '11 walk with you at sunrise unless we 've galloped away ! Ai (i door is heard shutting outside Footsteps outside Pushing her along Going ? In the doonvay, left, front Margaretta goes out Listening to the footsteps, Elizabeth stands motionless whispering as they turn and recede As they come nearer 73 As they grow faint Hurrying hack to knock on the folding door The folding doors, thrown open, show Ralph's laboratory with Bunscn burners, scales, test-tubes, etc., on shelves and benches, which -flank an aisle leading to a large French win- dow. Ralph stands facing Elizabeth on the threshold With attempted coolness Going toward the windows, right Ah? Again ? Ralph ! ! Why, Ralph ! RALPH I hoped . . . perhaps you were dozing. ELIZABETH Dozing ? before I 'd seen you ? Hardly, dear. But, Ralph, what 's kept you ? Thinking of ways to propitiate him when we get back ? For he has forced us to have our ride! I can see that, yes, clearly, clearly, in this awful gravity of yours. Do you know, dearest, it makes you look like him? RALPH Elizabeth, we can't "have our ride." ELIZABETH Can 't we? Not really? I 'm sorry for that. It would have made the day so blessed. Think: dawn with the air shot through and through with sunlight, and 74 the waves all fire, and little flames leap- ing along their ripples as we rode on to the sand; then the blast in our faces, and the spray . . . Oh Ralph, Ralph, the grandeur of that 's too full for us to lose. Don 't you think we might have it, even if your father does hug the thought of me ! RALPH If it could give you happiness . . . ELIZABETH I know, I know; if he agrees, the ad- venture's all gone from it ! Well, there's something sweet, after all, in sunny fields of consent. They 're flat, of course. But ... he ^/come round, chivalrously? RALPH Dearest, he could n't change. ELIZABETH Couldn't? Oh, I 'm not so sure of that. In fact, I think he could. RALPH But you don't understand . . . ELIZABETH Yes, Margaretta 's told me. RALPH Margaretta ? 75 Turning to Ralph Coming forward to her After an instant's thought ELIZABETH Didn't you hear her just as you came into the laboratory ? No ? Well, she was here, and she told me. RALPH Incredulous Margaretta doesn't know. ELIZABETH Yes, she does ; she saw him ; he told her. RALPH can still smile? ELIZABETH Why, yes! Would you have me cry? Mere millions don't matter to you and me. Don't worry ! Now people can 't say such critical things of me. And it 's a reason for my appearing at once. And if I succeed and I shall why, you needn't . . . wallow in castoria and baking- powder and soothing-syrup and things, as that wretched Margaretta 's been pro- posing. I shall be able to support us in luxury unless there are children . . . RALPH Elizabeth ! ELIZABETH Simply Don't we hope for them, dearest? And after all, if I 'm really a "genius," one season of starring will support us for years and years. RALPH If supporting us were all ... ELIZABETH What else could there be? RALPH There is something else ; something that Margaetta hasn't told you: something so terrible that I scarcely dare tell you. ELIZABETH Tou scarcely dare? RALPH Because it 's ... unspeakable. He falls helplessly silent ELIZABETH YOU mean . . . Her band on bis shoulder, that you were tempted that I must g ent h forgive you for thoughts of deserting me? RALPH I was n't thank God so cowardly as that! I 've been hunting all these hours for some way to tell you gently . . . Her band drops what came so horribly to me. I thought I had found it. But life flared up again and dazed me and shook me so, when I saw you . . . 77 A silence I s voice very low He ilent ELIZABETH Well? What is it ? Tell me. RALPH Elizabeth . . . ELIZABETH I must know. RALPH While we live, what we hoped for ... cannot be. ELIZABETH Cannot ? RALPH Cannot. ELIZABETH But why? Ralph, it isn't true. You're not this sycophant ! Ton could n't fall so from the sky to mere earth. Why, the very stars would laugh . . . through their tears . 'eating herself on the arm And yet oh, it IS ! of her chair RALPH Dearest ELIZABETH Don't speak. RALPH Elizabeth. ELIZABETH After a short wait Be still. RALPH Things are tragic enough as they are. Don't make them more tragic with misunderstanding. ELIZABETH I understand. No, don't protest. It 's clear enough. Perhaps you thought . . . you loved me ; but wiser heads have shown you that . . . I 'm light, and weak and unstable. And you think it the part of prudence Without noticing him, she RALPH walks toward the windows, No, nothing that you think ! Nothing ! right Elizabeth! Elizabeth ELIZABETH Don't break into my memory. That 's all I have now, the memory ... of a dream. But oh, why couldn't you have been even a little what I thought you? Why not have made that beauty just a little yours? Even now, if you only could turn . . . But you prefer the life that you've chosen weighing your 79 He begins feeling in waistcoat pocket bis Suddenly taking out and hold- ing before her a small bottle She takes it Reading the label Wearily setting down the bot- tle on the table He goes toward the door, back left. She sinks into a chair, her eyes fixed on him T urn ing atoms, theorizing, experimenting, con- firming . . . alone. RALPH Elizabeth, for my sake, for your sake, because I need you helplessly, let me tell you, if only I can . . . ELIZABETH Oh, your care for appearances ! the cal- culations that kept you tramping, tramp- ing there, devising "explanations" it 's worse than mere infamy. I could admire that. But this . . . RALPH Elizabeth, look. Look, I say. That was what kept me, tempting and tempting me, till thought for you gave me strength to conquer it. ELIZABETH "Tempting" you? No, you wouldn't have dared to die. Don't try to explain. Go! Do you understand ? Go, unless you wish me to despise you even more ! Ralph! RALPH If I go, we shan't meet again; and you 80 will never understand. It 's better so, perhaps . . . ELIZABETH Ralph. RALPH Elizabeth . . . it might be easier for you to think I had never been the man you cared for. And so, if I could bear it, I should leave you; we shouldn't meet again. ELIZABETH Isn't it best so? RALPH No ! What we knew, as we sat beside those waves under the stars, is too true for that. And there 's still too much tragic wonder in the years that we must live. Trust me . . . ELIZABETH Ton? RALPH / have not sinned. I 've blundered and confused you; but I haven't sinned. I 'm stronger, truer than I ever was. Our suffering comes from others' guilt. Though our happiness is dead, Elizabeth, our love must live, like the sun's fire, 81 He opens the door, hands grow rigid Almost inaudibly Her Shutting the door and turning Coming forward With sorrowful tenderness Taking her hand Kneeling His face between her hands Lifting his bead Standing Her arm about him, her bead against bis shoulder, she walks with him towards the laboratory Her voice jading in the dis- tance A long pause, during which, while he tells her, they are seen starthngly motionless, against the French window, through which the dawn ap- pears over a near mountain Coming back with him and the hush . . of night . . . ELIZABETH Ralph! Your face is gray. Your hands burn. Ralph, Ralph, your pain ! Oh, forgive me, forgive me for doubting you. Trust me. Let me share what's hurting you. RALPH , It 's too . . . horrible. ELIZABETH Let me bear it. ELIZABETH Our happiness on earth . . . How our souls sang under the stars. They're faded now, and that . . . is dead ? RALPH Don't think of our joy. We can 't bear to, yet. ELIZABETH Ralph, it isn't dead; it's alive still in my finding you again, all, all, more than I could dream you. That joy in your 82 dear tenderness, oh, let me feel the thrill of it, so ... so ... RALPH Elizabeth . . . ! ELIZABETH Must you wake me? RALPH This brings us too near to the gulf we 've escaped from. It isn't safe! ELIZABETH Not while we live. RALPH And we must live. We must not let ourselves be crushed. We must turn, fight, hew out the days . . . ELIZABETH Ralph, does the life that holds us sepa- rate mean much to you now? RALPH And yet we must serve it must put all we 've lost tensely into the effort. ELIZABETH Must we? RALPH You will? for our love's sake, for my sake ? 83 As they seat themselves on the divan, she draws him to her Their eyes meet; their lips meet A long silence. He starts up Looking up gently Knocking outside the labora- tory Knocking Outside the laboratory Dazed Painfully With the saddest smile of consent He strides off through the lab- oratory. A door is heard to open and shut. A long silence Whispering She walks back and forth, looking toward the laboratory Passing the table she sees the bottle, hesitates, picks it up, looks at it, lays it down ELIZABETH I'll try, Ralph MRS. WATSON May I come? I, your mother? RALPH Shall I tell her to come? ELIZABETH Your mother . . . MRS. WATSON Shall I come? ELIZABETH No ... RALPH Shall I go to her? ELIZABETH But don't stay long from me. RALPH I'll come back . ELIZABETH Effort . . to serve the life that separates us? Effort? alone? Must I? Can I? Ralph! 84 I can't ! RALPH Elizabeth! He wants to come to you. I told my mother to send him. Was I right? No? Shall I call her back? ELIZABETH No, Ralph . . . RALPH How pale you are! I oughtn't to have left you. You've been suffering. ELIZABETH Yes. I was afraid to face . . . what you will conquer . . . alone. RALPH Not alone. ELIZABETH Yes, you'll live. Forgive me. I ... wasn't strong enough. 85 She picks it up again and seating herself on the divan, sits long in thought She uncorks the bottle, lifts it to her lips, hesitates, drinks Sitting with her thumb over the mouth of it, she waits,' makes a movement as if to drink more; then with short little indrawn breaths, falls along the divan. After a long silence the door is heard opening outside the laboratory Standing against the light of sunrise in the doorway Faintly Coming nearer In pain Catching sight of the bottle Reaching out for it She bows her head Faintly Almost inaudibly Sobbing Whispering Taking her hand he trembles ; suddenly noticing her other hand, he takes the bottle; bends forward, kissing her; then standing, looks at the bottle; lets the hand in which he holds it sink; raises it almost to hislipsjdashes it to the ground On his knees beside the divan RALPH You haven't . . . Elizabeth! No! I '11 get help for you. Keep your cour- age up just a moment! ELIZABETH Don't leave me not now. RALPH I must. ELIZABETH It's useless. I can't be ... saved. Your hand. Even now you're veiled from me. Nearer. RALPH Elizabeth! ELIZABETH Tou must be strong, dear. Don't be troubled. Nearer. So. Still nearer. Kiss me. Oh, must I go ... alone? RALPH Elizabeth, you haven't left me? No! ! If only I might go with you. . . 86 MARGARETTA ,. , . , (Jutside, after partly singing Elizabeth! Have you forgotten our walk? Eliza- - beth? Coming in The sun's up; the sky's golden, the waves are all flame ! You have n't gone on your gallop ? ! Asleep ? Elizabeth . . . n i i i . As Ralph rises Ralph, she is n t . . . ? RALPH Gone, Margaretta. MARGARETTA Gone? MR. WATSON May I Come, Elizabeth? Coming through the labora- Can you bear seeing me? MRS. WATSON Are you sure that you can bear it? RALPH Suddenly bearing, and strid- Father ! Go back ! Wait ! Not now ! in z to MR. WATSON Does she condemn me? RALPH She is at peace . . . MR. WATSON You don't mean what your face says ! 8? ' Rising and meeting him Not that? ! Ralph ! Can 't you speak ? Let me pass, Ralph ; let me see her. MARGARETTA Don't look so, Father. See, her face smiles. MR. WATSON Though she died for my sin? MRS. WATSON For Margaretta's sake ! John . . . ! RALPH Leading her aside Let him speak, Mother. MR. WATSON Kneeling Elizabeth, forgive me ! Forgive me! I never knew. Elizabeth ! The cruelty, the cruelty . . . when life seemed so sweet to her. He lets bis head jail on the edge of the divan. A pause, during which Margaretta stands in pain, her hands vaguely lifted over her father's head. He takes Elizabeth's hand and kisses it To Elizabeth Elizabeth . . . my child . . . MARGARETTA Father . . . MR. WATSON Sweet little one . . . MARGARETTA Father ! 88 MR. WATSON Must we still live ? MARGARETTA Yes, for her sake, we that are left. RALPH Yes, we must live . we that are left. Brnding down and lifting him. to his feet She leads him out through the laboratory. Ralph and Mrs. Watson silently ivatch them pas;. Then, while Mrs. Watson goes to the divan and kneels, Ralph sinks down in Elizabeth's chair In hoarse, dead tones CURTAIN OF THIS EDITION OF " THE FATHER^ BY HENRY COPLEY GREENE, TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY COPIES HAVE BEEN PRINTED AT THE MONADNOCK PRESS, NELSON, NEW HAMPSHIRE OCTOBER, 1904. MONADNOCK A 000 030 001 2 Greene, Henry Copley, 1871 - The father, a drama. Nelson, N.H., Monadnock Press, 1905. A3 Gift - Cerf CU catalog: Current order file: Serials file: Depository: Date of checking: cf- L'-..-- , *_X ^N G.& E. Process slip