ME FLYING STAC I 5 LAYS MO. IT WO MINE) ftECCARK AND ONE THE FLYING STAG PLAYS For The Little Theatre No. 5 TWO BLIND BEGGARS AND ONE LESS BLIND Copyright, 1918, by EGMONT H. ARENS All rights reserved The professional and amateur stage rights on this play are strictly reserved by the author. Applications for permission to produce the play should be made to the Washington Square Players, New York. While it is hoped that the publication of the plays in this series will encourage their produc tion in all parts of the country, it is held that the interests of the New Theatre movement can best be served by vigorous protection of the playwrights, without whom the movement cannot go forward. Therefore, any infringements of the author s rights will be punished by the penalties im posed under the United States Revised Sta tutes, Title 60, Chapter 3. The Publisher. TWO BLIND BEGGARS AND ONE LESS BLIND A Tragic Comedy in One Act by Philip Moeller * * as played by the Washington Square Players Published by EGMONT ARENS at the Washington Square Bookshop New York 1918 TWO BLIND BEGGARS AND ONE LESS BLIND was first produced by the Washington Square Players, at the Bandbox Theatre, New York, 1915, with the following cast: GREGORY, an old blind beggar Edward Goodman GEORGE, another blind beggar - Ralph Roeder A THIRD BEGGAR, less blind Walter H. Frankl A LITTLE GIRL - Florence Enright TWO BLIND BEGGARS AND ONE LESS BLIND The Scene is a rag-pickers cellar. Five feet above the back of the stage is the level of the side walk, where the feet of the people passing can be seen and from which a broken stair leads down. The scene is dimly lit by the light from the street. In a corner is an old stove with a few coals turning to ashes. On a box is an oil lamp. Gregory and George are sorting rags. GEORGE Did you hear them? GREGORY I ve heard nothing but your beery breath com ing and going when you lean towards me. GEORGE Ncthin* else? 3827LO 6 TWO FUND BEGGARS GREGORY What else? GEORGE The happy feet of the people going home from the factory. GREGORY I ve heard your breath, I tell you, and the scrape of your dirty hands in the rags. GEORGE Dirty, you say? GREGORY You ve brought a new stench into the cellar. It s too bad that you ve come with your rack ety smut to filthy the end of my days. If you must spill your noise whisper it low in your brain. Your talk s too much and your truth s too little. GEORGE Ah don t be hard on me. When I m as old as you, I ll be happy to welcome a friend. GREGORY A friend, you say. That s a slippery word. How long is it we ve been here together in the damp? GEORGE I ve lost count of it. GREGORY Is it mor n a week or less n a week ? PHILIP MOELLER 7 GEORGE It s longer than that. But it s hard knowing with only your ears to tell you the time by the feet of the people passing. GREGORY Is it two weeks? GEORGE It s mor n that, for it s every month that they stand in the gutter banging their drums and praising the Lord. GREGORY So it s mor n a month that you ve sat there batting my ears with your bawl, and you say you re my friend. GEORGE [Whining.] Well, ain t I? Didn t I tell you how it was when I saw? GREGORY It was an endless hurt to hear your boasting. GEORGE Didn t I tell you about the tree with the moon in its twigs and under the branches the huddled people moaning with love in the dark? GREGORY I can forgive you for tellin me that. It s the sort of thing the blind can see. What s the moon like? GEORGE Like the looks of a silver dollar spinnin round. 8 TWO BLIND BEGGARS GREGORY I ve heard people tell of such things. [They go on quietly working. There is a sound of voices passing the door.] GEORGE It s evening they re going home their feet are quicker. GREGORY Be still now. I ve had enough of your talk. GEORGE You used to like to hear about the houses . . . GREGORY Be still, I tell youl GEORGE Of the churches, with the spires like icicles a mile high hanging upside down. GREGORY [Throwing a handful of rags at George.} Here, stuff these rags in your head! [They go on working. Gregory feels about him.} GREGORY Have we done yet ? GEORGE No, there s more to be sifted. [A coal drops. Hz lifts his hand, palm up, in the direction of the stove.] The coals are turning to ashes. PHILIP MOELLER 9 GREGORY You talk like a woman that feels the cold. GEORGE When I m as old as you and half of me stiff in the ground, I ll not mind it. But there s a long length of life ahead of me. GREGORY God gagg the words in your throat! It s happy I ll be at your funeral kicking the stones till they rattle down on your upturned face. GEORGE There s a pool of sweet in your heart, old man, but if ever I die before you, I ve still lived the longer, for I ve known the light and the looks of things . . . and I once saw a worm lying drunk in the sun. GREGORY It s a dark day that I sit and hear you tell of this. [They go on working. Gregory again feels about him.} GREGORY We ve done now and I can sleep. GEORGE It isn t much that you ll see in your dreams. [Gregory rolls over on the floor. After a moment George begins to whistle.} 10 TWO BLIND BEGGARS GREGORY [Sitting up.] You re sticking needles in my ear! Shut up! [He rolls back on the floor. Georges reaches another bundle.] GEORGE Old man, here s another, but we ll leave it till tomorrow. [When he lies down Gregory straightens up, as if they were each at either end of a see- saw.] GREGORY I can t take the risk. I might die before morn ing and I don t want to step up to God with a sop of filthy rags in my hands. GEORGE You re so old you re afraid to die. GREGORY Afraid, am I ? What chance would I have sprinkling the dust under the clean white noses of the angels. Give me the bundle. GEORGE Tomorrow. [Gregory lurches towards him and catches him by the hair.] GREGORY You ve got no religion. [His hand comes down to Gsorge s throat.] PHILIP MOELLER 11 GEORGE [Trembling.} I haven t the heart to dispute with a weak old man like you. [He rolls the bundle over. There s a scuffle and scrape on the floor.} What s that? GREGORY Rats, you fool. [Gregory unties the cord. George falls to sleep. When the string is unloosened Gregory stretches out his leg and kicks George in the ribs.} GEORGE [Starting up.} God damn you, old man! My hand was just on the knob of her door. Why did you wake me? GREGORY It might be better for me if you slept. . . . [George flings himself down again snarling.} Because if I find something here it s all my own. GEORGE [Sitting upright.} I ll help you sift. [They go on working. Gregory chuckling softly to himself.} 12 TWO BLIND BEGGARS You re a mighty miser keeping all that joy to yourself. GREGORY [Exploding with mirth.] Ha! Ha! Ha! That was easy easier than kiss ing a corpse. Ha! Ha! Ha! GEORGE Eh! GREGORY It s twenty years, I ve been siftin and nothing s ever been found. And now at the hint of it you re up from your sleep. Ha! Ha! GEORGE There may be somethin . GREGORY [Fiendishly.] Ha! Ha! Hope s a filthy whore, my boy. She pops her head around the corner and when you run for her, up go her fingers to her nose. Ha! Ha! You might just as well have slept. GEORGE There wasn t a wink in me. I m afraid to sleep. If my sight came back while I slept, I mightn t know it. [They go on working. Far off a whistle blows.} GEORGE There s a fog on the river. The boats will be moving slowly. PHILIP MOELLER 13 GREGORY It must be a poor thing to see. You re always got to be going somewheres and looking at people. GEORGE I once saw a woman look at me! [His hand stops.] GREGORY You ve stopped sifting. GEORGE It was like the smell of the trees. GREGORY This is a big bundle. GEORGE It was like the voices of the people in the dark. I heard them all of them, they were saying, "You! You!" GREGORY You didn t hear right. It was "I! I!" they were saying. GEORGE All day I kept lookin into people s hearts. [They go on sifting the rubbish. Another coal drops in the stove.} GREGORY They re late to-night. GEORGE The little girl will be tired. 14 TWO BLIND BEGGARS GREGORY He ll be walking the streets led by the child till the last glimpse has gone from his eyes. And then he ll come and sit in the cellar along with us. GEORGE He ll remember many things but his words will be bitter with the sight just gone from him. GREGORY Soon he ll be sitting here with us and be spit- tin about in the dark. [They are nearing the end of the bundle. Sud denly their bodies straighten and their arms come up together, a dollar bill in their hands.] It s got a stiff feeling . . . GEORGE It s somethin new . . . GREGORY It s covered with tiny threads . . . GEORGE Like silk . . . [Their heads come together.] GREGORY It s got a nice smell . . . GEORGE How thin the edge is! GREGORY Twenty years I ve been waiting . . . PHILIP MOELLER 15 GEORGE This would be a great moment for my sight to come back. GREGORY Do you know what I ve got in my hand? It s a thousand dollars. GEORGE It s stiffer n rags. GREGORY I can buy lots of soap and be clean when I get to heaven. GEORGE Food in the morning and food at noon and food at night and a bed to sleep in ... GREGORY I mayn t die for a long while. GEORGE It s a good thing I kept awake and did my duty. GREGORY May God turn the lie to flame in your mouth. GEORGE Lie is it? GREGORY It will hang to your feet on the judgment day, weighing you down when you stretch towards the Lord. GEORGE It s mighty familiar your tongue is with God. 16 TWO BLIND BEGGARS GREGORY [Attempting to snatch the bill away and shrieking.} It s minel mine! mine! GEORGE [Whispering.] You re wrong, you rotten old man, it s mine. GREGORY [Quickly.} My hand touched it first. GEORGE I felt your hand reach it. GREGORY It s mine! GEORGE You re like the burnt out end of stick, old man. If I touch you you ll crumble to ashes. GREGORY Keep back from me, for I ve two teeth left and they re sharp. GEORGE What will you do with the money, with the smell of the years on you ? GREGORY I ll buy, and I ll burn tall candles, and when I awake forever, I ll be nighest the seat of the Mighty, kissing the feet of the Lord. PHILIP MOELLBR 17 GEORGE It s more likely you ll be bending down to polish his boots. GREGORY He ll be touching my lids till the gay sight comes into my eyes. GEORGE You re wastin your hope and the money. There isn t a foot of room in the whole white length of heaven for a smutty and rotten old boy like you. GREGORY May the God of the sparrows forgive you for his wicked son Cain is born again. GEORGE I ll leave you alone in the cellar to sweat and to freeze and to pray and to stink. [He dutches the bill] GEORGE The money is mine for I ll know how to spend it ... GREGORY Let go! let go! GEORGE I ll go down where the street girls walk and I ll feel their faces and smell their breath and she that s the sweetest will go with me and all day long I ll be believin in your God. And this on Monday and this on Tuesday, and on Wednesday booze and a length of sleep. [He attempts to snatch the bill. They struggle.} 18 TWO BLIND BEGGARS GREGORY Christ! Mary! Francis! Peter! Paul! [And then to George.] God damn you! [Suddenly they spring at each other s throats. The bill falls from their hands and tumbles back amid the rags. They sway and slip. They are up again and the fight goes on.] GEORGE Your teeth! GREGORY Unclose your claws. [Choking.] I! I! [They are now behind the stove and gradually they sink to the floor. They have strangled one another. Then there is silence and an other coal drops in the stove. A moment later the Third Beggar and the Little Girl come down into the cellar. They step on the last step and sit down.] THE LITTLE GIRL How does the story end ? THE THIRD BEGGAR They lived happy ever after. THE LITTLE GIRL That was a beautiful story. Will you tell me another tomorrow? PHILIP MOELLER 19 THE THIRD BEGGAR Yes, while we walk. Hew much did we get THE LITTLE GIRL A rich child gave me three pennies. Her dog ran after her with a collar of silver bells around its neck. THE THIRD BEGGAR If my eyes only last till the winter comes srt4 then I can go out alone and be playing my flute. In the old days I d get many pennies that way. It s a fine sound for the rich people, the white sound of my flute, below in the streets when the snow s falling and the lamps are lit. [He starts groping about him.} Is it dark in the cellar? THE LITTLE GIRL There s a coal that s still red in the stove. THE THIRD BEGGAR We can warm our fingers. [He comes forward and stumbles against the bodies.] THE LITTLE GIRL If I don t lead you, you ll fall. Give me your hand. THE THIRD BEGGAR I m steady now. My foot slipped against one of the bundles. [He again comes forward and this time trips over the outstretched legs of the beggars.] 20 TWO BLIND BEGGARS THE THIRD BEGGAR What s this? THE LITTLE GIRL I ll light the lamp. THE THIRD BEGGAR Yes. Here s a match. [He searches in his pocket, turning out one and then the other.] THE THIRD BEGGAR I ve got none. See if you can find a bit of waste paper on the floor that I can light at the coal. [The Little Girl looks among the rags where the beggars have been sifting. She finds the bill.} THE LITTLE GIRL Here s a crumpled piece of paper. Will this do? [She brings it to the old man.} THE THIRD BEGGAR I can t see. It s so dark down here. [He folds it into a sliver.} Yes, this will do. Now lead me to the stove. [The Little Girl does so. He lights the paper. In the flicker of light he sees the two dead beggars.] THE LITTLE GIRL I m afraid 1 THE THIRD BEGGAR Don t talk or you ll wake them. Go home now. PHILIP MOELLER 21 THE LITTLE GIRL [At the stairs.] You must nt forget my story tomorrow. THE THIRD BEGGAR It will be even finer than today. [The Little Girl goes out. The bill is nearly burnt to a cinder. He looks at the bit left in his hand.] God forgive me. It was so dark I couldn t see. It s a dollar bill that I ve burnt! [Then as he leans over the two beggars.] It must be a terrible thing to be blind and to die. CURTAIN FLYING STAG PLAYS FOR THE LITTLE THEATRE TO BE PUBLISHED MONTHLY Thirty Five Cents Each Three Dollars a Year A Subscription Includes All Plays Already Published. The Best One Act Plays Produced by the Washington Square Players, the Provincetown Players, The Greenwich Village Players, and other little theatre groups in America, will be included in this series. THE CHESTER MYSTERIES, a Passion Play, as played on Christmas eve by the Greenwich Village Players. No. 1. THE SANDBAR QUEEN, by George Cronyn. (Washington Square Players.) No. 2. NIGHT, by James Oppenheim. (Provincetown Players.) No. 3. THE ANGEL INTRUDES, by Floyd Dell. (Provincetown Players.) No. 4. ENTER THE HERO, by Theresa Helburn. (St. Francis Players.) No. 5. TWO BLIND BEGGARS AND ONE LESS BLIND, by Philip Moeller. (Washington Square Players.) IN PREPARATION THE PRODIGAL SON, by Harry Kemp. LA CIGALE, by Lyman Bryson. (Arts and Crafts Theatre, Detroit.) THE ROPE, by Eugene O Neill. A PLAY, by Alfred Kreymborg. And Others. Published by EGMONT ARENS, at the Washington Square Book Shop, New York, 17 West 8th Street. BOOK IS DtTE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW Syracuse, N.I. PAT. JAN. 21, 1908 319! 3*2710 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY