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THE FOOL

_A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS_


[Illustration: ACT III FROM THE SELWYN PRODUCTION
_Photograph by White Studio_]




THE FOOL

_A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS_


BY
CHANNING POLLOCK


"_They called me in the public squares
The fool that wears a crown of thorns._"


[Illustration]


PUBLISHERS

BRENTANO'S : : : NEW YORK
BRENTANO'S LTD. : : LONDON




COPYRIGHT, 1922,
BY CHANNING POLLOCK

_All rights reserved_

_First printing_       _December, 1922_
_Second printing_      _January, 1923_
_Third printing_       _February, 1923_


PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA




The cast of "THE FOOL" as originally presented by
Selwyn & Company, at the TIMES SQUARE THEATRE,
New York, October 23, 1922


THE FOOL

PRODUCED BY FRANK REICHER


_Scenic Production and Decorations by_
CLIFFORD B. PEMBER

THE PERSONS

(_In the order in which they speak_)

_Mrs. Henry Gilliam_           MAUDE TRUAX
_"Dilly" Gilliam_               REA MARTIN
_Mrs. Thornbury_              EDITH SHAYNE
_Mr. Barnaby_                GEORGE WRIGHT
_Mrs. Tice_                 LILLIAN KEMBLE
_"Jerry" Goodkind_          LOWELL SHERMAN
_Rev. Everett Wadham_       ARTHUR ELLIOTT
_Clare Jewett_            PAMELA GAYTHORNE
_George F. Goodkind_      HENRY STEPHENSON
_"Charlie" Benfield_       ROBERT CUMMINGS
_Daniel Gilchrist_          JAMES KIRKWOOD
_A Poor Man_               FRANK SYLVESTER
_A Servant_                 GEORGE LE SOIR
_Max Stedtman_              GEOFFREY STEIN
_Joe Hennig_                   ROLLO LLOYD
_Umanski_                 FREDRIK VOGEDING
"_Grubby_"                  ARTHUR ELLIOTT
_Mack_                     FRANK SYLVESTER
_Mary Margaret_               SARA SOTHERN
_Pearl Hennig_           ADRIENNE MORRISON
_Miss Levinson_             WANDA LAURENCE

_And a Number of Persons of Minor Importance_




Stage, screen and amateur rights in this play are owned and controlled
by the Author, who may be reached care Selwyn & Company, at the Selwyn
Theatre, New York. No performances or public readings may be given
without his written consent.




_THE PERSONS_

(_In the order in which they speak_)


MRS. HENRY GILLIAM.
"DILLY" GILLIAM.
MRS. THORNBURY.
MR. BARNABY.
MRS. TICE.
"JERRY" GOODKIND.
REV. EVERETT WADHAM.
CLARE JEWETT.
GEORGE F. GOODKIND.
"CHARLIE" BENFIELD.
DANIEL GILCHRIST.
A POOR MAN.
A SERVANT.
MAX STEDTMAN.
JOE HENNIG.
UMANSKI.
GRUBBY.
MACK.
MARY MARGARET.
PEARL HENNIG.
AND A NUMBER OF PERSONS OF MINOR IMPORTANCE.




_THE PLACES_


ACT I.--_The Church of the Nativity._
            _Christmas Eve, 1918._

ACT II.--_The Goodkinds' Home._
            _November, 1919._

ACT III.--"_Overcoat Hall._"
            _October, 1920._

ACT IV.--_Gilchrist's Room--"Upstairs."_
            _Christmas Eve, 1920._

_The action takes place in New York City._




THE FOOL

_ACT I._


SCENE: _The Church of the Nativity. New York._

_The set, representing only the chancel, is as deep as possible, so
that, even when its foreground is brightly illuminated, the detail
back of that is lost in shadows. Pierced by three fine stained glass
windows, the rear wall looms above the altar, on which the candles
are not lighted. In front of that is the sanctuary, and, in front of
that, the communion rail, with three steps to the stage. Just right
of these steps is a very tall and beautiful Christmas tree. The tree
has been expensively trimmed, and has a practical connection for an
electric-lighted ornament still to be placed at its top. Down R., a
door to the choir room, and, down L., a door to the parish house and
the street. These doors are exactly alike. Down L., two folding wooden
chairs that have been brought in for temporary use. A tall stepladder
L. of the tree, facing front. Down R., two wooden boxes of ornaments,
that on top open and half emptied. There is a pile of tissue-wrapped
and ribboned packages under the tree, and a general litter of gifts,
boxes, and crumpled paper everywhere. The Church of the Nativity is
fashionable and luxurious; the effect of the set must be that of a
peeping into a building spacious, magnificent, and majestic._

AT RISE: _Christmas Eve, 1918. The act begins in bright
day-light--about half past three in the afternoon--so that the early
winter twilight may have set in before its end. The sun's rays now
come through a stained-glass window above the door L., so that the
R. of the stage is bathed in white, the C. in blue, and the L. in
a deep straw. Two women and a girl are discovered._ MRS. HENRY
GILLIAM, _bending over the box down L., is fat, forty, rich and
self-satisfied. Her daughter_, DAFFODIL, _commonly called
"Dilly," perched upon the ladder, is a "flapper." As regards her
mind, this means that, at twenty, she is wise and witty, cynical and
confident, worldly and material beyond her elders. Physically, she is
pretty, and, of course, has not hesitated to help out nature wherever
she has thought it advisable. Considering what has been spent on her
education, she is surprisingly ignorant and discourteous, particularly
to her mother, who bores her dreadfully._ LEILA THORNBURY
_is a divorcee; thirty, smart, good-looking, with something feverish
in her face, in her eyes, in her movements. Deliberately attractive
to men, she is disliked, in proportion, by women. All three are very
expensively dressed. Mrs. Thornbury has laid aside a fur coat on the
cost of which twenty families might have lived a year. She is at the
end of the stage, concerned with a number of dolls and other toys._

MRS. GILLIAM

[_Turning with some ornament, on a level with her eyes she observes a
generous view of_ DILLY'S _nether limbs_]: Dilly, for pity's
sake, pull down your skirt! [_As_ DILLY _pays no attention,
she continues to_ MRS. THORNBURY] I don't know what skirts
are coming to!

DILLY

They're not coming to the ground, mother. You can be sure of _that_!

MRS. GILLIAM

What _I_ can't understand is why our young women want to go around
looking like chorus girls!

MRS. THORNBURY

Perhaps they've noticed the kind of men that marry chorus girls.

DILLY

Salesmanship, mother, begins with a willingness to show goods.

MRS. GILLIAM

Dilly! _Pull down your skirt!_

DILLY

I can't! That's all there is; there isn't any more!

MRS. THORNBURY

[_Holding up two dolls_]: What are we going to do with these?

MRS. GILLIAM

[_Despairingly surveying the profusion_]: Goodness knows!

MRS. THORNBURY

I've two engagements before dinner, and I've got to go home and
undress for the opera.

DILLY

_I_ gave up a dance for this.

MRS. GILLIAM

A dance at this hour?

DILLY

People dance at any hour, mother.

MRS. GILLIAM

What do they do it for?

DILLY

For something to do. [_To_ MRS. THORNBURY] _We're_ young and
we've got to have life and gaiety; haven't we, Mrs. Thornbury?

MRS. THORNBURY

We've got to have something. I don't know what it is, but I know we
have to keep going to get it.

MRS. GILLIAM

But you all waste your time so dreadfully. I'm busy, too, but my life
is given to the service of others.

DILLY

What could be sweeter?

MRS. GILLIAM

Dilly! Nobody knows better than you that I've never had a selfish
thought! Mr. Gilliam----

DILLY

Of the Gilliam Groceries, Inc.

MRS. GILLIAM

_Mr. Gilliam_ says I'm far _too_ good!

MRS. THORNBURY

We agree with him, Mrs. Gilliam.

MRS. GILLIAM

Only yesterday I gave five hundred pounds of coffee and sugar to the
Salvation Army!

DILLY

And today father jumped the price of sugar to thirty-two cents!

MRS. THORNBURY

Now--Dilly!

MRS. GILLIAM

[_With rising emotion_]: One gets precious little reward.... I can
tell you! I sent helpful thoughts from the Bible to all Mr. Gilliam's
employes! Now they're on strike, and the man that got "Be content with
your wages" is leading the strikers!... Where's the Star of Bethlehem?
[_To conceal her agitation, she has turned to the box._]

DILLY

It doesn't work, mother.

MRS. THORNBURY

Are those your husband's men--on the front steps?

MRS. GILLIAM

Oh, no! Those are people from the sweat shops! They're starving, I
hear, and Mr. Gilliam says it serves 'em right! [_Bringing forth a
small case_] What's the matter with the Star of Bethlehem?

DILLY

Oh, the usual! Whoever heard of the lights working on a Christmas
Tree?

MRS. GILLIAM

[_Holding up the star_]: But this _must_ work. Mrs. Tice had it made
to order--of Parisian diamonds. It cost a hundred dollars.

DILLY

[_Reaching for the gewgaw_]: All right! It's better than nothing!
[_She takes it, and starts to ascend_] Hold the ladder, mother! It
wiggles! [MRS. GILLIAM _obeys_.]

MRS. THORNBURY

[_She has ribboned both dolls, and sets that just finished beside its
companion on the chair_]: There! [_Rises_] I'm half dead, and there
_can't_ be any more presents! [_Starts up for her coat_] I'd give my
left hand for a cigarette!

MRS. GILLIAM

Not here!

MRS. THORNBURY

I don't know why not. We've had almost everything else.

DILLY

Mother's so _Mid-Victorian_! And ministers are finding they've got to
do _something_ to make church-going attractive. What do we get out of
it now? I've heard of preachers who go in for dances and movies, and
they draw crowds, too. Naturally! Who wouldn't go to church to get a
squint at Douglas Fairbanks? [_She has hung the star_] I'm through!

MRS. GILLIAM

Then come down.

DILLY

Believe me, I'm glad to get off this thing! [_She descends
unsteadily_] When I think I broke an engagement with the best
fox-trotter in New York to do a shimmy with a ladder----

[MR. BARNABY, _package-laden, enters L. He is the sexton,
and of the age, manner and appearance peculiar to sextons_] Oh, Mr.
Barnaby!

MRS. THORNBURY

[_Turns and is appalled at his burden_]: What have you got?

MR. BARNABY

Some more presents.

MRS. GILLIAM

Good Lord!

MR. BARNABY

[_Deposits his bundles on the steps L.C._]: Mrs. Tice brought
them. She and Mr. Jerry Goodkind. [MRS. GILLIAM _nudges_
DILLY] They're just coming in.

MRS. GILLIAM

[_Sotto voce_]: Dilly, powder your nose! [DILLY _takes her
bag from the communion rail, and obeys_] Mr. Barnaby, our star won't
light. Will you see if you can fix it? [MR. BARNABY'S _mind
is on_ MRS. TICE. _She is much too rich to open a door. He is
edging L._]

MRS. THORNBURY

And Mr. Barnaby----[_Voices off L._]

MR. BARNABY

One moment!

     [_He opens the door L. Enter_ MRS. TICE _followed
     by_ JERRY GOODKIND. MRS. TICE _has
     just entered middle-age, and refuses to shut the door
     behind her. Her wealth, which has given her an air of
     great authority, has made it possible for her to look a
     smartly-dressed young matron. The truth is that she is
     clinging to youth in an ever-lessening hope of "keeping"
     her husband. Beneath the "air of authority" is something
     cowed, and worried, and unhappy. Just so, beneath the
     smiling, careless surface of_ JERRY _lies iron.
     He can be very ugly when he wishes, and he is always
     sufficiently determined to get what he wants, though
     he gets it generally by showing the urbane surface._
     JERRY _would describe himself as a "kidder." He
     is 35; sleek, well-groomed, and perfectly satisfied with
     himself. His most engaging point is a perpetual smile._]

MRS. TICE

Hello, everybody! [_"Everybody" returns the greeting_] Who are those
people on the church steps? A lot of dirty foreigners blocking the
sidewalk!

MR. BARNABY

It's the grating, Mrs. Tice. The furnace room's underneath, and
they're trying to keep warm.

MRS. TICE

Well, let 'em try somewhere else! [_Recollection of unpleasant contact
causes her to brush her coat_] I don't mean to be unkind, but there
must be missions or something!

     [MR. BARNABY _removes the coat, and then climbs to
     attend to the star_]

MRS. THORNBURY

We didn't hope to see _you_ here, Mr. Goodkind.

MRS. TICE

I met him in front of Tiffany's!

JERRY

The most dangerous corner in New York!

MRS. TICE

And lured him here by mentioning that Clare Jewett was helping us.

DILLY

Somebody page Mr. Gilchrist!

MRS. GILLIAM

Dilly! What a way of saying that Clare is engaged to the assistant
rector!... Dilly's looking well today, isn't she, Mr. Goodkind? So
young, and----

JERRY

And fresh.

DILLY

Oh, boy!

MRS. TICE

_Do_ come and see what I've got for the girls of the Bible Class!

MRS. THORNBURY

Testaments?

MRS. TICE

That's just it; I _haven't_! Bibles are so bromidic! I want to give
them something they can _really use_! And it's so hard to think of
presents for those girls; they've got everything! [_Opening a small
parcel she has withheld from_ MR. BARNABY] Guess how I've
solved the problem!

MRS. THORNBURY

I can't!

MRS. GILLIAM

I haven't an idea!

DILLY

I'm dying to know!

MRS. TICE

[_Impressively. Displaying the gift_]: Sterling silver vanity cases!

DILLY

[_Taking it_]: How ducky!

MRS. THORNBURY

Charming!

MRS. GILLIAM

An inspiration!

DILLY

[_Showing it to_ JERRY]: All complete--lip-stick, powder and
some nice, red rouge.

JERRY

[_Cynically_]: To put on before you pray?

DILLY

Precisely. To put on--before we--_prey_!

MRS. THORNBURY

[_Gathering up her coat_]: Well, good people, this is where I leave
you!

MRS. GILLIAM

[_With the air of one bereft_]: Oh, Mrs. Thornbury!

MRS. THORNBURY

I've done my "one kind deed" today, and I've an engagement for dinner.

JERRY

Permit me. [_Helping her._] Some coat!

MRS. THORNBURY

Yes ... thanks.... See you all tomorrow at the Christmas Service!
Good-bye, everybody! And Mr. Goodkind! Miss _Jewett's_ wrapping things
in the choir room! [_Everybody laughs. She exits L._]

MR. BARNABY

I'll just try those lights. [_Exits L._]

MRS. GILLIAM

She has an engagement for dinner, but you notice she didn't say with
whom! I don't think they ought to allow divorced women in the church!

MRS. TICE

[_Virtuously_]: The church _won't_ marry them!

MRS. GILLIAM

_That's_ the trouble!

DILLY

[_Indicating_]: The church _will_ let 'em give stained glass windows!

MRS. GILLIAM

Where does she get all her money?

MRS. TICE

Billy settled for thirty-six thousand a year!

JERRY

[_With growing amusement_]: Think of getting thirty-six thousand a
year out of munitions!... Gee, what a lot of lives that coat must have
cost!

     [_Everybody laughs, and, on the laugh, enter_ DR.
     WADHAM. _He is_ not _the stage clergyman. On
     the contrary, he is a very pleasant and plausible
     person--plausible because he believes implicitly in
     himself. He has passed sixty, and has a really kind heart.
     But he has had no experience with life, and he has never
     been uncomfortable._]

DILLY

[_Hearing the door closed, looks around. Surprised_]: Here's Dr.
Wadham!

MRS. GILLIAM

Why, Doctor!

MRS. TICE

We didn't know you were back.

JERRY

_I_ didn't know you'd been away, Doctor.

DR. WADHAM

[_Shakes hands_]: Ten days; attending a Conference on the Proper
Use of Eucharistic Candles. It's a subject on which I feel _rather_
strongly. [_Turns R._] It's pleasant to see you, Mrs. Tice. And Miss
Daffodil.

MRS. GILLIAM

Isn't Dilly looking _wonderful_?

DR. WADHAM

_Quite_ wonderful! [_Glancing at the tree_] And what a beautiful tree!
The star lights up, I suppose.

DILLY

Well, we have hopes!

DR. WADHAM

Don't let me interrupt. I've only dropped in to keep an appointment
with the wardens.

MRS. GILLIAM

We're all through, except for putting these gifts under the tree.
[_She busies herself with that task_] Miss Jewett will be in with hers
any minute. [JERRY, _who has been contemplating an excursion
to the choir room, returns from the door, and helps_ MRS.
GILLIAM] The star is _real_ imitation diamonds. A gift from Mrs.
Tice.

MRS. TICE

[_Joining_ DR. WADHAM _L.C._]: Speaking of gifts, Doctor----

DR. WADHAM

Yes, dear lady.

MRS. TICE

My husband wanted me to have a little talk with you about his check.

[_She pauses for encouragement, finding what she has been told to say
a trifle difficult_] You know, he promised five thousand dollars to
beautify the parlor of the Parish House.

DR. WADHAM

[_Foreseeing trouble_]: Oh, yes.

MRS. TICE

And since then--well, frankly, Doctor, John was very much upset about
last Sunday's sermon. Mr. Gilchrist preached from the text about the
rich man entering the Kingdom of Heaven.

DR. WADHAM

Always a trifle dangerous.

MRS. TICE

Yes, and last Sunday it seemed as if he were directing _all_ his
remarks at John. We're in the first pew, you know, and John says he
doesn't like to complain, but there's getting to be altogether too
much of this--Bolshevism. John says the preachers are more than half
to blame for the present social unrest. I heard the sermon, and I
agree with John that some of it was positively insulting!

DR. WADHAM

Mr. Gilchrist is young.

JERRY

Mr. Gilchrist is a nut!

MRS. TICE

Do you know what he said, Doctor? He said all this--"decking the
church"--was making an accomplice of God. He said we couldn't take
credit to ourselves for returning a small portion of our _ill-gotten
gains_!

MRS. GILLIAM

_Small portion!_ When I've just given away five hundred pounds of
coffee!

MRS. TICE

He said charity wasn't giving away what you didn't want!

MRS. GILLIAM

It was _good_ coffee, too! Our second best coffee!

MRS. TICE

Of course, what John objected to was the reference to rents--to
charging clerks and bookkeepers more than they could pay for "wretched
little flats." John says he doesn't come here to be told how to run
his business!

MRS. GILLIAM

Quite right! And I don't pay seven thousand dollars a year to hear my
husband's coffee roasted!

     [_They all laugh--the more because of the previous
     tension._ MRS. GILLIAM, _surprised at first, sees
     the point, and joins in the laughter_.]

Well, you understand what I mean!

DR. WADHAM

We understand, Mrs. Gilliam.

MRS. GILLIAM

Personally, I'm very fond of Mr. Gilchrist. His father had stock in
our stores. But I _don't_ think he's a good influence. This used to
be a really _exclusive_ church. Now, whenever Mr. Gilchrist preaches,
there's such a crush of undesirable people in the galleries you can
hardly get to your pew. We don't have that trouble with Dr. Wadham!

     [CLARE JEWETT _enters R., her arms full of
     parcels_. CLARE _is 28. Smartly dressed, though in
     a fashion that suggests thought rather than expenditure,
     and pretty, in spite of a certain hardness. The next
     sentence arrests her, and she stands in the doorway; not
     eavesdropping, but not interrupting._]

MRS. TICE

Mr. Gilchrist was such a promising young man!

MRS. GILLIAM

So rich, and happy!

DILLY

[_Tantalising_ JERRY]: And in love!

DR. WADHAM

He's still rich, and in love, and, I think, he's still happy.

JERRY

I've told you; he's a nut!

MRS. GILLIAM

I wonder if that's it. Don't laugh! He wasn't like this before he went
overseas as chaplain. Is it possible he was _gassed_--or something?

CLARE

Here's another armful of presents.

DR. WADHAM

Oh, how do you do, Miss Jewett?

CLARE

I'm very well, thank you.

JERRY

[_Starting to her_]: Hello, Clare! This is a----

MRS. GILLIAM

[_Intercepting him C._]: Surprise! Ha! And you've been waiting for her
half an hour!

CLARE

[_To_ MRS. GILLIAM]: I'm afraid we'll have to get Mr.
Barnaby. There are so many packages.

DR. WADHAM

Can't I help?

CLARE

Will you, Doctor? And Mr. Hinkle's in there praying for someone to
consult about the Christmas music.

DR. WADHAM

I told Mr. Hinkle the choir'd better begin by singing, "Peace, Perfect
Peace, With the Loved Ones Far Away."

     [DILLY _laughs and turns up L., chanting "My
     Wife's Gone to the Country." Scandalized_, MRS.
     GILLIAM _hushes her_.]

MRS. TICE

And, Doctor! About the Parish House ... shall I tell my husband you'll
speak to Mr. Gilchrist?

DR. WADHAM

Yes, I think you may even tell him that's why we're here today. [_He
exits R._]

MRS. GILLIAM

Dilly, _do_ hurry!

MRS. TICE

Can't I drive you home?

MRS. GILLIAM

Thank you so much! Good-bye, Miss Jewett. Good-bye, Mr. Goodkind. We
must arrange for you to come up to dinner as soon as the holidays are
over. [_He bows_] Dilly, say "good-bye" to Mr. Goodkind!

DILLY

Goodbye-ee!

     [MR. BARNABY _re-enters L. The door closing
     attracts_ MRS. GILLIAM]

MRS. GILLIAM

Oh, Mr. Barnaby, how about the lights?

MR. BARNABY

I think the trouble's outside.

MRS. GILLIAM

You'll be sure to fix it? [MR. BARNABY _nods_.]

MRS. TICE

And will you put us in the car? [MR. BARNABY _nods again, and
goes L._] I rather dread that mob at the door. [_She follows, groping
in her bag for a bill to give_ MR. BARNABY] Good-bye, Mr.
Goodkind ... and Miss Jewett, and, if I don't see you tomorrow, a
Merry, _Merry_ Christmas!

     [_There is a chorus of repetitions of this wish, amid
     which exeunt_ MRS. TICE, MRS. GILLIAM,
     DILLY _and_ MR. BARNABY.]

CLARE

It's funny to find you in church.

JERRY

Why? My father's the senior warden.

CLARE

[_Laughs and takes up a parcel_]: Whatever else you inherit, Jerry,
it's not likely to be religion!

JERRY

Religion doesn't trouble the old man much--except Sundays. I came here
to see you.

CLARE

Why?

JERRY

You've been avoiding me.

CLARE

Nonsense! Come help me with these parcels.

JERRY

I want to talk to you.

CLARE

That's just it, Jerry. You always want to talk to me, and always to
say something I don't want to hear.

JERRY

Why not?

CLARE

[_Simply, but not very surely_]: I'm in love with someone else!

JERRY

You're _what_?

CLARE

[_Looking defiantly into the mocking face quite close to hers and,
this time, with conviction_]: I'm in love with someone else!

JERRY

You're in love with Clare Jewett!

CLARE

You're very rude. I'm _engaged_ to Mr. Gilchrist, and he loves me, and
believes in me, and your sense of decency and fair play ...

JERRY

Inherited from my father?

CLARE

... should keep you from proposing to a woman who's going to marry ...

JERRY

You're not going to marry Mr. Gilchrist. [_He lounges against the
ladder._] What's the use bluffing? We've known each other since
childhood. You know I'm not going to give up anything I want because
it belongs to somebody else. And I know you're not going to give up
what _you_ want--comfort and luxury--for a crazy man who wears his
collar hind-side before!

CLARE

Jerry!

JERRY

Now that's admitted, let's go on.

CLARE

Mr. Gilchrist isn't exactly poverty-stricken!

JERRY

No; he got quite a lot of money from his father. You like him and when
you said "yes," you thought you were getting somebody you liked, and
all the rest of it, too. But something's gone wrong with Gilchrist,
and you know it!

CLARE

Why do you say that?

JERRY

Because, if you didn't before, you heard this afternoon. I saw you
standing in the door. And I'm going to tell you a few things more!

CLARE

I don't want to listen!

JERRY

Maybe--but you will! Do you know that your young trouble-hunter has
given away nearly one-tenth of his capital in three months?

CLARE

No, and I don't believe it!

JERRY

All right; ask my father! The old man has his money in trust!
Gilchrist won't touch his income from Gilliam Groceries, because
they're profiteering, and he's preaching such anarchy that both
wardens are coming this afternoon to complain to Dr. Wadham! I don't
want you to throw yourself away on a raving bug!

CLARE

And your advice is----

JERRY

Marry me. I'm a nice fellow, too--and I can give you what you really
care about. You're over your ears in debt, without any chance of
paying up--or cutting down. And you are, shall we say, twenty-nine in
October? I know what it cost you when your father died, and you had to
come down a peg. You don't want to keep on--coming down, _do_ you?

CLARE

And so--you advise me to marry you?

JERRY

Yes.

CLARE

[_Looking at him squarely and significantly_]: Knowing all I _do_ know
about you?

JERRY

I don't see how _that_ concerns you.

CLARE

It proves you don't love me.

JERRY

I want you, and I'm offering marriage to get you.

CLARE

You haven't said one word of love.

JERRY

I've said: "What's the use bluffing?" I'm no movie hero--and no crazy
dreamer. I'm a little shop-worn, perhaps--maybe, a little soiled--but
I'm sane, and I'm solvent. You're good-looking, and smart, and a lady.
You'll help my standing and I'll help your credit. For the rest--we
needn't bother each other too much.... What do you say?

CLARE

I say it's--_revoltingly_--sordid!

JERRY

[_Looks at her an instant_]: All right! [_Takes out his watch,
looks at that, and crosses to L._] You think it's sordid at 3.45
on Christmas Eve. Well, keep your ears and your mind open, and
see how you feel in the morning. My telephone's six nine four two
Rhinelander--and this is the last time I shall ask you! [_Puts his
hand on the knob_].

CLARE

Wait! [_He turns back_] Whatever you believe of me, I love Mr.
Gilchrist!

JERRY

Rhinelander six nine four two.

CLARE

And, what's more, I'm going to marry him!

JERRY

Rhinelander six nine four two.

CLARE

Jerry, I think you're the most detestable person I've ever known in my
life!

JERRY

[_Laughing_]: Rhinelander six ... nine ... four ... two!

     [_He exits L., leaving_ CLARE _humiliated and
     fuming. She stands still a moment, and then starts to
     exit R. At the tree, she throws down the parcels she is
     still carrying, and, as she does so_, DR. WADHAM
     _re-enters R._]

DR. WADHAM

Why ... Miss Jewett!

CLARE

I'm nervous!... I want to finish up and go home!

     [_She exits R._ DR. WADHAM _looks after her;
     then picks up the parcels_. JERRY'S _father_,
     GEORGE GOODKIND, _enters L. He is about the
     Doctor's age--sixty--but he has had vast experience with
     life, and he enjoys comfort now because he has been very
     uncomfortable._ GOODKIND _is much like any other
     successful business man you might meet--and like--at
     dinner. He is brisk and economical of time, but pleasant,
     and, unless his interests are involved, extremely amiable.
     He does what he conceives to be his duty by his family, his
     community, and his God, and feels that all three should
     appreciate it._]

DR. WADHAM

Ah ... Mr. Goodkind! [_Glances at his watch_] You're early!

GOODKIND

How do you do, Doctor? [_Puts down his hat_] Walked out of a meeting.
I don't like letting religion interfere with business, but I wanted to
get here before Benfield. It's about young Gilchrist.

DR. WADHAM

Shall we go into my study?

GOODKIND

Benfield's coming here, and I've only a few minutes. Did you know
Gilchrist proposes to preach a Christmas sermon about the strike?

DR. WADHAM

What strike?

GOODKIND

This garment strike. He announced his subject from the pulpit, and
Benfield's furious.

DR. WADHAM

Mr. Benfield isn't interested in clothing.

GOODKIND

No, but he's invested heavily in my West Virginia coal mines, and down
there we're on the verge of the biggest walk-out in our history. You
see what I mean?

DR. WADHAM

Yes.

GOODKIND

The labor problem's none of the church's business. Or any outsider's
business. It's a worrisome subject, and there's no good stirring it
up. That's what you want to tell Gilchrist!

DR. WADHAM

I have told him ... frequently.

GOODKIND

And what's the answer?

DR. WADHAM

He says every problem ought to be the church's business, and that,
until the church becomes a power in live issues, it isn't a power in
life!

GOODKIND

He won't listen to reason?

DR. WADHAM

No.

GOODKIND

Then he'll have to listen to something else. If he persists about this
Christmas sermon--[BARNABY _enters L._ GOODKIND _turns. Impatiently_]
What is it, Barnaby?

MR. BARNABY

There's a man out there wants to see Mr. Gilchrist.

GOODKIND

What kind of a man?

MR. BARNABY

[_Indifferently_]: A poor man. I think he's a Jew.

GOODKIND

Who ever heard of a poor Jew?

DR. WADHAM

Mr. Gilchrist isn't here.

MR. BARNABY

I told him that, but he won't go away. I wanted to ask had I better
send for the police?

DR. WADHAM

Oh, I wouldn't do that!

MR. BARNABY

Why don't he go over to the Synagogue instead of hanging around a
Christian Church? Mr. Gilchrist gave this fellow his overcoat. I
suppose he's come back for the gloves!

DR. WADHAM

Tell him I'll speak to Mr. Gilchrist. [MR. BARNABY _shakes his head
despairingly and exits_.]

GOODKIND

Well, there you are, and what I wanted to talk about privately is ...
what's got into the boy? Has he gone crazy?

DR. WADHAM

I've asked myself that. I've asked myself if what he saw in France----

GOODKIND

Exactly. A lot of young fellows go off the handle and start out to
reform the world, but this lad has run through twenty thousand dollars
in less than three months!

DR. WADHAM

In addition to his salary?

GOODKIND

Yes. I could understand if he'd spent the money on himself, but he
hasn't! He's given it away! [DR. WADHAM _shakes his head_] Gilchrist's
father was my first partner, and I got the boy in here, and I feel
responsible for him. As trustee, I can refuse to turn over another
penny of his principal, and, as senior warden, I can demand his
resignation from this church. But I want him to have every chance.
Tell him if he'll get a grip on himself, and reconsider tomorrow's
sermon----[_Enter_ BENFIELD _L._] Here's Benfield!

["CHARLIE" BENFIELD _is fifty, and a "rough diamond." He is self-made,
and proud of it, though nothing really good--nothing of education, or
refinement, or knowledge and appreciation of fine things--has gone
into the making. He is arrogant, domineering, used to having his own
way, and to sweeping aside obstacles. He comes in with his hat on his
head, and it is a minute later, when_ DR. WADHAM'S _glance makes him
aware of the fact, that he removes it._]

BENFIELD

Hello, George! Howd'y', Doctor! Am I late?

DR. WADHAM

[BENFIELD'S _very presence makes him nervous_]: We've been
waiting for you. Hadn't we better retire to my study if we're going to
discuss Mr. Gilchrist?

BENFIELD

We're not! We've been discussing long enough! All I got to say now is:
Gilchrist leaves this church or I do!

GOODKIND

Now wait a minute!

DR. WADHAM

Isn't that a little mandatory?

BENFIELD

I don't know what it is, but it goes! I've worked hard all my life,
and now this fellow gets up and tells me what I've worked for is
nothing, and that I'm nothing, and all my ideas is wrong!

DR. WADHAM

He didn't say that.

BENFIELD

Oh, yes, he did--last Sunday and every Sunday! I've got two million
dollars tied up in Black River mines, and I'm not paying to have the
socialist papers down there print that my own minister is in favor of
strikes!

GOODKIND

Wait a minute, Charlie! That's not the tone to take to Dr. Wadham! We
all feel that Gilchrist has gone too far, and we're agreed----

BENFIELD

Does he preach tomorrow?

GOODKIND

We're agreed that if he insists on preaching about the strike----

BENFIELD

He goes?

GOODKIND

He goes!

BENFIELD

All right. And if he don't insist?

GOODKIND

He stays.

BENFIELD

And I go! [_He gets his hat and returns._ DANIEL GILCHRIST
_enters L._] You can decide which of us is the most valu'ble to your
church! Because I tell you again--and straight--this church ain't big
enough for Gilchrist and me!

DANIEL

[_Smiling_]: A church that isn't big enough for two little men, Mr.
Benfield, must be somewhat crowded for God!

     [BENFIELD _cannot trust himself to answer. He jams
     his hat upon his head, and exits L._ GILCHRIST _is
     33. He was a football hero at college, and shows it. He was
     a gentleman before he went to college, and he has been one
     ever since, and he shows that, too. What he doesn't show
     is what one expects in a "reformer"--narrowness, hardness,
     something forbidding. An ascetic, beyond doubt, self-denial
     has only made him trim and fit. The goodness that shines
     in his face is partly good humor. He has honest eyes,
     with fire in them, and there is strength and zeal back of
     that--strength and zeal that will leave their mark later.
     As yet, his exaltation is chiefly in his smile. His great
     gift is charm--and sympathy. At this moment, he wears no
     overcoat, and is glowing from the cold. Still smiling, he
     looks after_ BENFIELD.]

DR. WADHAM

[_Embarrassed_]: Mr. Benfield is a little--ah--a little----

DANIEL

Yes; a little.

     [GOODKIND _crosses for his hat, and observes_ DANIEL, _who
     is chafing his wrists_.]

GOODKIND

Pneumonia weather, Daniel! Where's your overcoat?

DANIEL

Outside.

GOODKIND

Oh, yes. There's a man out there, too, who says he won't go 'way until
he sees you. [_He joins_ DANIEL] Dan, you're an awfully
decent fellow, but I still think you made a mistake going into the
church. If you ever want to talk it over with me, I'd be glad to help
you--any time! You know that! Good-bye, Doctor! Good-bye, Dan, and a
Merry Christmas! [_He exits L._]

DR. WADHAM

Daniel, you're in trouble.

DANIEL

[_Smiling_]: Doctor, I'm used to it.

DR. WADHAM

This time it's serious. I've warned you often. I don't see how you can
have been so blind.

DANIEL

I haven't been blind.

DR. WADHAM

Then you don't care for your position in this church.

DANIEL

[_With feeling_]: There's only one thing I care for more.

DR. WADHAM

And that is?

DANIEL

To be worthy of it.

DR. WADHAM

When you're as old as I am, Daniel, you'll understand that being
honest doesn't necessarily mean being disagreeable.

DANIEL

Doesn't it mean--telling the truth?

DR. WADHAM

Do you know the truth, Daniel?

DANIEL

Yes; don't you? Doesn't every man--in his heart? And if we want to
keep it in our hearts, and never think about it or look it in the
face, shouldn't someone pry open the door and cry: "Behold"?... I
didn't tell them anything they didn't know, Doctor. I don't _know_
anything they don't know. I just reminded them----

DR. WADHAM

[_Exploding on the last word_]: That we were heathen!

DANIEL

That we were Christians, and every man our brother, and that we were
sitting, overdressed and overfed, in a Christian Church, while our
brother froze and starved--outside--in a Christian World!

DR. WADHAM

That isn't fair! These good people have given----

DANIEL

_Given_--what cost them nothing! Frumpery and trumpery and diamond
stars! That's how all of us give--what we don't need; what we don't
even want!... You're a good man, Doctor, and, honestly, what would you
say tomorrow if your wife told you she'd sold her rings, and given the
money to the poor?

DR. WADHAM

Why, I----

DANIEL

You'd say she was crazy!

DR. WADHAM

But there's no necessity----

DANIEL

Oh, yes, there is! There'll be people lying in the parks tonight. What
would Mrs. Tice say if I invited them to sleep in her pew?

DR. WADHAM

That there's no reason why she should share dirt and disease!

DANIEL

Exactly! We may _believe_ in the brotherhood of man, but we _know_
about germs! We're not sure what is truth, but there's one thing we
_are_ sure of, and _mean_ to be sure of, and that's our own comfort!
You know that, and I know it, and they know it--but we mustn't say it!
All right; in God's name, what _are_ we to say?

DR. WADHAM

[_Who has been nervously regarding this raving as confirming the
worst fears of_ MR. GOODKIND]: Precisely. And that brings
us to tomorrow's sermon. I understand you intend to talk about the
strike. [_Dan nods "Yes"_] And that's not a very pleasant subject for
Christmas. Wouldn't it be more fitting to preach from the text, "Glory
to God in the Highest"?

DANIEL

"And on earth, Peace, good will toward men"?

DR. WADHAM

[_Delighted_]: Yes! You might say, "There are many kinds of peace----"

DANIEL

But there aren't!

DR. WADHAM

There is physical peace--peace that came with the end of this cruel
war!

DANIEL

There _is_ no peace! There is only fear--and hate--and vanity--and
lust, and envy, and greed--of men and nations! There are only people
preying on one another, and a hungry horde at the very doors of your
church!... My text will be: "And Peter followed afar off."

DR. WADHAM

I don't understand.

DANIEL

[_Into his tone, hitherto indignantly human, comes something
mystic--something divine_]: We all follow--afar off.

DR. WADHAM

[_Alarmed; not at the words, but at that "something divine"_]: Daniel
... my dear fellow!

DANIEL

Don't worry. I'm quite sane. Only--I've been wondering about that for
a long time.

DR. WADHAM

Wondering?

DANIEL

What would happen if anybody really tried to live like Christ.

DR. WADHAM

[_Shaking his head_]: It can't be done.

DANIEL

Isn't it worth trying? Men risk their lives--every day--in experiments
far less worth while. We've had centuries of "fear, and hate, and
greed"--and where have they brought us? Why not try love?

DR. WADHAM

How can you make them try?

DANIEL

By showing that it would work.

DR. WADHAM

It _won't_ work, Daniel. It's a beautiful ideal, but it won't work.
Times have changed, and things are different. Life isn't as simple as
it was two thousand years ago. The trouble with you, Daniel, is that
you're not practical.

DANIEL

I wonder.

DR. WADHAM

And the great need of the church is practical men. We mustn't take the
Scriptures too literally. We must try to interpret their spirit. And,
above all, we must please our congregations, or we shan't have any.
And then what becomes of our influence? Better fall back on my text
for tomorrow, Daniel.

DANIEL

I can't.

DR. WADHAM

At least, you must promise not to discuss the strike.

DANIEL

I can't do that, Doctor.

DR. WADHAM

Or else let me take the pulpit.

DANIEL

I won't do that! [_A pause._]

DR. WADHAM

Very well! Preach your Christmas sermon, and afterward----

DANIEL

Yes?

DR. WADHAM

I think you may find a greater field of usefulness elsewhere. [_A long
pause. The men look at each other, and then_ DANIEL _turns
away to conceal his emotion. He goes up for his hat, and returns._]
I'm sorry, Daniel. I know you've been very happy in your work here. I
know how failure hurts. But you saw it coming, and you wouldn't turn
aside.

DANIEL

[_He looks up with flashing eyes_]: The man who turns away from his
vision--lies! [_Shakes hands_] It's all right, Doctor. [_He crosses
L._ CLARE JEWETT, _ready for the street, enters R._]

DR. WADHAM

[_Brightly_]: Well, Miss Jewett! [DANIEL _hears the name and
stops. He is consoled by her very presence_] What's happened to the
choir?

CLARE

Mr. Hinkle cut his finger. I've been applying first aid.

DR. WADHAM

Woman's traditional mission--to bind our wounds.

     [_He turns to exit, and sees_ DANIEL. _He is struck
     by the double significance of his remark, and the
     timeliness of_ CLARE'S _arrival_.]

Well, I must be going! Step into my study in the morning, Daniel, and
we'll have a look at your sermon! [_He exits L. From here the lights
dim very slowly._]

CLARE

I hope I never see another doll! Got anything on your mind, Dan?

DANIEL

[_Quickly_]: What do you----

CLARE

I mean anything special to do?

DANIEL

Oh!--No.

CLARE

Take me home.

DANIEL

[_He beams_]: _I'm_ getting _my_ Christmas present early! [_Gets his
hat._]

CLARE

Where's your coat?

DANIEL

Outside. That is--I lent it to a friend. Oh, I've got
another--somewhere!

CLARE

But you can't go out without a coat. [_Looks at wrist watch_] Anyway,
I told the taxi man to come back at half past four. That's the worst
of not having a car. Well, we may as well sit down! [_He assists her,
but his mind is afar._] What's the matter with you, Dan?

DANIEL

Nothing important.

CLARE

There will be if you insist on going around without an overcoat!
[_Looking at him narrowly_] You're too generous. [_He is still afar._]

I say you're too generous! How are we going to be married if you go on
giving things away?

DANIEL

[_Laughs_]: Is generosity a fault in a husband?

CLARE

That depends. Is it true you've been giving away--well--large sums of
money?

DANIEL

Who told you that?

CLARE

A little bird. [_He laughs_] And that you've refused to take part of
your income?

DANIEL

Little bird tell you that?

CLARE

Yes.

DANIEL

Must have been a cuckoo!

CLARE

Is it true?

DANIEL

About the money? Yes.

CLARE

Why?

DANIEL

Well, there's the strike, and a good deal of unemployment, and I've
got so much. Why--_I've got you!_

CLARE

[_Rises_]: Let's not talk about it now. [_She turns L. Hesitates;
looks at her wrist watch; looks off L._] Yes; let's!--You're so
changed. I hardly know you. We don't seem to want the same things any
more.

DANIEL

What do _you_ want, Clare?

CLARE

I want to be happy.

DANIEL

That's exactly what I want!

CLARE

How can anybody be happy without money?

DANIEL

How can anybody be happy _with_ it? Anyway, do you think people are?
Happier than the people who just have enough?

CLARE

In our day and age there's nothing worse than poverty! There's nothing
more degrading than having to scrimp, and save, and do without, and
keep up appearances! I've tried it ... ever since my father died ...
and I know! I can't do it any longer, and I won't!

DANIEL

Clare!

CLARE

[_She turns away, and comes back somewhat calmer_]: I don't want to
quarrel with you, Dan. I just want you to be sensible.... I love
you, but I love the good things of life, too. I like to be warm and
comfortable.

DANIEL

You can be sure of that.

CLARE

But that's only the beginning. I want good clothes, and furs, and my
car, and money to spend when I like. I want my own house, and my own
servants, and a husband who amounts to something. I'm no different
from other women of my class.

DANIEL

I hoped you were.

CLARE

A year or two ago people thought you were going to be a Bishop. Today
you've made an enemy of every influential man in the church. All that
may be very noble, but I'm not noble, and I don't pretend to be. I
don't feel any call to sacrifice myself for others, and I don't think
you have any right to ask it!

DANIEL

I do ask it, Clare.

CLARE

You mean you're going on like this?

DANIEL

I mean I can't give you expensive clothes, and servants, and a big
house while all about us people are hungry.

CLARE

What do you propose to give me?

DANIEL

A chance to help.

CLARE

To help wash the dishes, I suppose, in a three-room flat in a side
street!

DANIEL

And to visit the sick, and befriend the friendless.

CLARE

A charming prospect!

DANIEL

It really is, Clare. You don't know how happy we can be with work, and
our modest plenty. There's so much to do--and they won't let me do it
here. We've got to get _near_ the people in trouble, and we can't with
a big house and all that. I don't think we shall come to a three-room
flat. [_He smiles_] We'll have five or six rooms, and our books, and
each other.

CLARE

I can't believe you're serious. You've always been a dreamer, but I
can't believe you're going through with this fantastic nonsense!

DANIEL

I've chosen a narrow path, dear, but I hoped it might be wide enough
for us both.

CLARE

It isn't. With your means and opportunities, you're offering me what
any bank clerk would give his wife. I thought you loved me, but you're
utterly selfish, and I think a little mad. You've a right to throw
away your own life, but you've no right to throw away mine. [_She
hands him his ring_] Our engagement is off. [_A pause. She starts for
the door, and then hesitates, looks at her wrist watch, waits for him
to call her back. When he doesn't, she returns._] Don't you think
you're making a terrible mistake?

DANIEL

[_Looks up from the ring. Simply_]: No. [CLARE _turns again,
this time quickly and with resolution, and exits L. The church
is quite dark, except for light streaming from the open door R._
DAN _looks at the ring, and puts it in his pocket. With his
back to the audience, he looks at the altar of his church. Suddenly,
from R., the organ is heard, playing "Hark the Herald Angels." He
crosses and closes the door. In the blackness, he hears a step._
THE POOR MAN _has come on through the open door L._] Who's
there?... Are you looking for someone?

POOR MAN

Yes.

DANIEL

I'm the assistant rector ... Mr. Gilchrist.

POOR MAN

I know you, Mr. Gilchrist.

DANIEL

Oh, yes; I remember. You're the man who was cold. Can I do anything
for you?

POOR MAN

I think you can.

DANIEL

Let's have it then.

POOR MAN

Perhaps I can help you, too.

DANIEL

In what way?

POOR MAN

In my way.

DANIEL

My poor man, I wish you could!

[_His despair impels him to confide in anyone_]: I was so sure of what
I wanted to do, and now I begin to wonder if it can be done!

POOR MAN

It has been done.

DANIEL

But in this day--in this practical world--can any man follow the
Master?

POOR MAN

Why not? Is this day different from any other? Was the world never
practical before? Is this the first time of conflict between flesh and
spirit? If it could be done then, why not now, and, if it was ever
worth the doing, why not now?

DANIEL

But how?

POOR MAN

We have been told how.

DANIEL

"Take no thought of the morrow.... Sell whatsoever thou hast, and give
to the poor.... Love thy neighbor as thyself.... Bless them that curse
you, do good to them that hate you." But if a man did those things
today people would think him mad!

POOR MAN

What does it matter?

DANIEL

He would lose everything!

POOR MAN

And gain everything!

DANIEL

What good can one man do?

POOR MAN

Why don't you try?

DANIEL

He tried, and they crucified Him!

POOR MAN

Did they? And if they did, what does that matter? Is a man dead whose
ideal lives? Ye crucified me, but I am with ye alway, even unto the
end of the world!

DANIEL

In God's name, who are you?

POOR MAN

I am a Jew!

     [_As he speaks, slowly the tree and everything beneath
     it is illuminated by the Star of Bethlehem. The light,
     dim at first, grows stronger and stronger, its rays
     revealing sanctuary and picking out the points of the
     cross on the altar. But where the_ POOR MAN _stood is
     nothing. There is no one there. The spirit--if spirit it
     was--has disappeared. The man--if man it was--has gone._
     DANIEL _gives a cry, and, as he does so, the light is
     extinguished, and suddenly, to the music that has been
     heard faintly through the door R. during this scene, the
     full choir sings: "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." In black
     darkness_

THE CURTAIN FALLS




_ACT II._


     SCENE: GEORGE F. GOODKIND'S _Library. New York._

     _Ten months later. The set has only two essentials--a wide,
     curtained, glass door L., and an ordinary, heavy wooden
     door down R. The first gives entrance to the music room,
     which is indicated rather completely when the door is
     open. The second, by way of a hall and a flight of stairs,
     leads to the main entrance of the house. For the rest, the
     library is a shallow room, very much like any other library
     in the home of any other rich and well educated man. It
     is a little richer and more luxurious than most, perhaps,
     with--here and there--priceless things from palaces in
     Venice or art collections in Rome. The obsession of
     business is suggested by various utilities, transient and
     otherwise--a row of law books, a small file, and a pile of
     papers upon the substantial library table._

     AT RISE: _It is a Saturday evening in November, 1919. The_
     GOODKINDS _have been entertaining informally at dinner,
     and, having finished the chief business of the occasion,
     the company is now diverting itself in the music room. This
     room is brilliantly illuminated; one sees the shadow of a
     man leaning against the glass door._ DILLY GILLIAM, _at the
     piano, is playing one of the syncopations popular at the
     time. After a moment, a servant, with a card tray, enters
     R., crosses and exits L. An instant later_, GOODKIND, _in
     evening clothes, enters L. He has a card in his hand. The_
     SERVANT _re-enters, re-crosses, and re-exits, stopping, en
     route, to switch on the lights_. GOODKIND _looks at the
     pile on the table, and turns the topmost paper face down_.
     BENFIELD, _also in evening clothes, enters L._

BENFIELD

What the h----

GOODKIND

Shut the door.

     [BENFIELD _does so. As he returns_, GOODKIND _gives him the
     card_]

BENFIELD

     [_Reading_]

"Labor conciliators."

     [_Throws the card on the table_]

What the h----

GOODKIND

What are labor conciliators? Mostly thugs. When you've been director
in a coal mining company a little longer you'll know. We've got a
million dollars' worth of 'em handling this strike.

BENFIELD

Police duty?

GOODKIND

No; spies and agents provocateur. I hate the breed, but what are you
going to do about it? This fellow, Max Stedtman, got into the union
five or six years ago, and now he's one of the delegation they've sent
up to me.... Where's Jerry?

BENFIELD

I gave him the high sign.

GOODKIND

     [_Offering cigars_]:

Smoke?

BENFIELD

     [_Taking one_]:

Thanks.... Why didn't you go down to West Virginia?

GOODKIND

Had to look over that power plant in Canada.

BENFIELD

Oh, yes!

GOODKIND

Anyway, what do I know about coal mining?

BENFIELD

You're president of the company.

GOODKIND

Yes, but that means digging up money--not coal. I've never set foot in
West Virginia in my life; and I don't want to!

BENFIELD

Yes, but in a serious situation like this--

GOODKIND

I sent Jerry. Jerry has a dozen qualifications and no scruples. _And_
I sent Gilchrist.

BENFIELD

Who has scruples and no qualifications.

GOODKIND

Thus striking a balance. I mean that! Don't make any mistake about
Gilchrist. He's a valuable man. I didn't hire him because I was sorry
he got fired out of the church ... and only a little because I knew
his father. I hired him because he had theories, and I wanted to try
'em out!

BENFIELD

I'll say he's got theories!

GOODKIND

Yes, and the remarkable part of it is ... sometimes they work. They
worked up at that power plant. A year ago I wouldn't have taken it as
a gift. Gilchrist applied a little soft soap--

BENFIELD

Soft soap or gold dust?

GOODKIND

Well, both; but, damn it, Charlie, with all the increased wages and
decreased working hours, the plant's making money now for the first
time!

     [_Enter_ JERRY L. _He is a little sullen--the result
     of brandy and resentment. He, too, is in evening
     clothes, and he closes the door behind him._]

GOODKIND

There's something _in_ Gilchrist!

JERRY

Mostly bugs!

GOODKIND

All right!

JERRY

I told you what he was doing at the mines. Now he wires you,
"Everything settled if you accede to rational conditions," and
up comes this delegation! What are the conditions? I'll tell you
now--surrender! You're crazy if you see these workmen! We've nothing
to discuss! They're our mines, and we'll run 'em as we like! If
this philanthropist of yours carries out instructions we've got 'em
whipped!... What was the idea of the high sign?

GOODKIND

     [_As_ BENFIELD _picks up the card to answer_]:

Stedtman.

JERRY

Where?

GOODKIND

On the way up.

JERRY

Of course, we're leaving our guests flat!

BENFIELD

Your wife's in there!

JERRY

Clare resents our talking business at home.

GOODKIND

Resents--and you haven't been married a year! Palaver's a wife's
job! They oil the machinery while we shovel in coal! [_The_
SERVANT _re-enters R._]

SERVANT

Mr. Stedtman.

     [_Enter_ MAX STEDTMAN. _He is a wiry little man,
     with the face of a ferret and the furtiveness of a rat.
     His nervousness does not indicate lack of self-confidence.
     That quality has made Stedtman the man he is today. For the
     rest, he is 40, and faintly Semitic. The_ SERVANT
     _exits_.]

GOODKIND

How do, Stedtman? This is Mr. Benfield--one of our new directors.

     [_They acknowledge the introduction_]

You know my son.

STEDTMAN

[_Nods_]: Saw him down to Black River.

     [_They sit_--JERRY _down L._; BENFIELD _left of the table_;
     GOODKIND _back of it_; STEDTMAN _R._]

GOODKIND

Well?

STEDTMAN

Well ... the committee's on its way.

GOODKIND

Who's in this delegation?

STEDTMAN

I'm chairman. We got a Pole called Umanski.

GOODKIND

     [_Writes_]:

Umanski.

STEDTMAN

He's a radical. You can't do anything with him. But there's a fellow
named Joe Hennig....

GOODKIND

Who'll listen to reason?

STEDTMAN

I think so.

GOODKIND

Why?

STEDTMAN

He's got a pretty wife.

BENFIELD

What the he----

GOODKIND

What has that to do with it?

STEDTMAN

Lots. Pretty wives like pretty things. Hennig's in debt, and this
girl's on his neck every minute. She's a peach. You know her, Mr.
Jerry!

JERRY

No.

STEDTMAN

Pearl Hennig?

JERRY

No.

STEDTMAN

Oh! I thought I saw you talking to her onct. Anyhow, Gilchrist knows
her ... _well_.

BENFIELD

You mean....

STEDTMAN

I mean I wouldn't mention Gilchrist to Joe Hennig. [BENFIELD
whistles.]

GOODKIND

That's rot!

STEDTMAN

Anyhow, Hennig and me are two votes, and I figure Hennig's'll cost
about....

     [_He looks at them narrowly._]

... fifteen thousand dollars.

     [_All three show surprise._]

GOODKIND

I don't like bribery.

BENFIELD

Not when it isn't necessary.

GOODKIND

And Gilchrist wired yesterday: "Everything settled."

JERRY

On conditions.

STEDTMAN

Yeh--on _their_ conditions! Take it from me, this Gilchrist has
double-crossed you!

BENFIELD

I told you!

JERRY

He's a....

STEDTMAN

     [_Goes right on, without heeding the simultaneous
     interruption_]:

He's been at union meetings! _He_ got 'em to send this delegation, and
he tried to get 'em to turn down Hennig--our one best bet! _You take
it from me_--

GOODKIND

[_Quietly_]: I won't take it from you, Stedtman. [_Looks around_] Or
from anybody else. I know this man.

STEDTMAN

[_Cowed_]: Well, he's gone around talkin' compromise. Compromise ain't
no way to settle a strike. Givin' 'em confidence. Why, we got a couple
o' hundred representatives among the workmen tellin' 'em they got no
chance. We got special police clubbin' 'em every time they try to hold
a meeting. You wouldn't believe what we done down there in the way of
harmony!

GOODKIND

It's all been done before.

STEDTMAN

Never no completer! We're workin' the black list and, if a man opens
his mouth too wide at a meetin', somebody--he don't know who--tips the
gover'ment that he's a "red." We got 'em so they ain't sure of their
own brothers. We're postin' bills, in seven languages, saying: "Why
should workmen mistrust the company? This is the land of opportunity!
America is calling you--GO BACK TO WORK!" The boss has a scheme now
to start a riot between the Poles and the Wops! And you know the
end o' that! Troops, and scabs, and machine guns! What stopped it?
One gent that don't know nothin' about harmony, or co-operation, or
nothin'--except hangin' around after a skirt! If you got to descend to
bribery now, don't blame me! Blame Gilchrist!

BENFIELD

[_Rises; striking the table with his open hand_]: He's absolutely
right!

JERRY

[_Rises_]: Of course, he's right! Wha'd'ya expect of a man kicked out
of his church for Bolshevism?

BENFIELD

He ought to be brought back right now!

GOODKIND

He's coming back--

     [_Servant enters R._]

Yes; what is it?

SERVANT

Two men to see Mr. Stedtman.

BENFIELD

Good!

GOODKIND

Bring them in.

     [_Servant exits_]

STEDTMAN

Now look--don't try nothin' before Umanski! Just give us an excuse
to vote _right_, and then we'll go out, and get rid of him, and I'll
slip back with Hennig! Now then--[_His sharp ears have heard footsteps
off R. He strikes a pose_] It's very good of you gentlemen to see
us! I was goin' to meet my friends outside--[_The Servant ushers in_
UMANSKI _and_ JOE HENNIG, _and retires_]--but you
been so kind and agreeable--Hello, Joe!

JOE

Hello, Max!

UMANSKI

You said you be on sidewalk.

STEDTMAN

I just really got in myself. This is Mr. Goodkind. He's the President.
And a couple o' Directors. Well, now we can get down to business!

[_He sits._ UMANSKI _stares in amazement at his temerity_.
UMANSKI _is a giant Pole or Russian. Whatever flesh he ever
had has been starved off; he is all bone and brawn. In his face is
something strangely like poetry ... something born of silence and
suffering. He is in his best, which does not obliterate the picture of
the man in working clothes, his sleeves rolled up over his muscular
arms. Hennig is a stocky man of 45--a "grouser." His tone has none of
the courage, the dignity, the independence of_ UMANSKI'S; _he
blusters, emptily, an echo, without much to say, and one guesses he
might be made to bluster either way. There is a pause._]

GOODKIND

Smoke? [_He presents the humidor to_ HENNIG, _and_
STEDTMAN, _rising, reaches out and helps himself_.
GOODKIND _goes on to_ UMANSKI, _who doesn't unfold
his arms; doesn't even appear to see the box_. GOODKIND
_returns, and sets it lower right end of table_.]

JOE

[_Coming down R. of_ GOODKIND]: I guess you know all about
our grievances.

GOODKIND

I didn't know you had any.

JOE

You didn't know we had any----

BENFIELD

Ah, you fellows are never satisfied!

GOODKIND

You're getting plenty for what you do! What are you complaining about?
You've left good jobs to follow a lot of idle, discontented agitators!
We've got to win this fight on principle! The work's there! I pay what
I can get men for, and not a cent more! Take it or leave it!

JOE

We got to hang together to get anything!

GOODKIND

You're hanging, and what have you got?

     [_The piano music in the next room, which ceased during the
     scene with_ STEDTMAN, _is succeeded now by the low
     tones of a violin_. UMANSKI _speaks, in a voice as
     unemotional as its owner is stolid_.]

UMANSKI

I work twelve hours--every day ... thirty years ... got nothing.

BENFIELD

Why should you have? An untrained man--

JERRY

You don't even know English!

UMANSKI

How I gonna learn English--work twelve hours a day?

JERRY

Nobody asked you to take the job! Nobody asked you to come over here!
You're not an American!

UMANSKI

I was American.

JERRY

[_Sneers_]: When?

UMANSKI

When I fight ... in the war. [_A short pause._]

JERRY

[_Turning to_ GOODKIND]: We're not getting anywhere. We've
been over this a dozen times!

GOODKIND

What do you want?

UMANSKI

I wanna chance to learn! I wanna chance to live! I wanna see ... sun!

JERRY

Wha'd'ya mean--_son_? [_Together_]

GOODKIND

_Your_ son? [_Together_]

UMANSKI

God's sun. I never see him. Go to mines--him not up. Work in
mines--him not see. Go home--him gone. Got baby five years ago. Never
see _him_. Go to mines ... _him_, not up. Come back--_him_ asleep. Go
home one day--_him_ gone.

GOODKIND

Dead?

UMANSKI

My wife say: "Good! Not such many to feed!"

JERRY

When you worked you had enough to eat, didn't you?

UMANSKI

Yes. Work twelve hours a day and got enough to eat--so can work some
more. Always work. Get up--work--come back--sleep--get up--work. Never
got time to talk to wife--never got time to talk to nobody--never got
nowhere. Never save nothing.

JOE

[_Whining_]: It ain't fair! [JERRY _takes out his cigarette
case_.]

UMANSKI

That little box--what you pay for him? [_Jerry turns front, not
deigning to answer_] Ah, I know; gold. You pay more for him than I
got from swing pick thirty years. Me and six families--we live in one
house you own. We got one room upstairs; two down cellar. Sleep there.
Eat--cook--wash upstairs. See nothing but brick yard, and clothes hang
up to dry. Wife--she carry water from yard. Me--I carry potato peeling
out front. Him rot. If I don't like that, I quit--and starve!

JERRY

You want to live on Fifth Avenue!

BENFIELD

And _then_ you'd find something to kick about!

UMANSKI

If I don't like other mans will. Other mans take my job. I got
little girl twenty years old. Awful nice little girl. Got gold hair.
Got blue eyes. Her take sick. She sorry she's sick. She wanna go
church. She ask me: "Pop, buy me new dress for church. Buy me pretty
_pink_ dress." Where I get him? We hire doctor once, and he say:
"Air--sunshine--milk--eggs!" Where I get air--sunshine--milk--eggs?
Got no job. My little girl, she cough, and cough, and one night she
die. I tell you we got right to quit! We got right to hang together!
We got right to fight--to live--and, by God, we gonna fight--we gonna
live--_we gonna_--_BY GOD!_

     [_The music stops. In the same short instant, there is a
     patter of applause; more music--lively this time--and,
     bursting into the room from L._, DILLY _runs into_
     UMANSKI. She _has gold hair_; she _has blue eyes;
     and what is more_, she _has a new dress. It is a "pretty
     pink dress," too, and its owner wears jewels worth the
     ransom of a dozen Umanskis._]

DILLY

[_As she enters_]: Now, look here, Jerry; you're not going to--Oh! I'm
sorry! [UMANSKI _looks at her; then covers his face, and,
with a great sob, drops into a chair R. C._ STEDTMAN _puts
his arm about the man's shoulders_. GOODKIND, _C., stares at
him sympathetically_.]

JERRY

You'll have to wait, Dilly.

GOODKIND

Ask the ladies to stay in the drawing room. We'll join them in a few
minutes.

DILLY

Yes.... Certainly.... I'm SO sorry!

     [_She exits. A pause._ STEDTMAN, _one arm about_ UMANSKI,
     _uses the other to signal_ GOODKIND _to go ahead_. GOODKIND
     _ignores him_.]

GOODKIND

I think we'd better let this go for tonight.

UMANSKI

[_Rising_]: Oh, no! Me--I'm all right! Excuse!

GOODKIND

You're a little upset, and I have guests. Besides, Gilchrist will be
here in half an hour, and I want to talk to him before I say anything
definite. Suppose we all meet here tomorrow at noon.

JOE

[_Who has turned down angrily at mention of the name_]: Not Gilchrist!

GOODKIND

No; just we six ... and, maybe, one or two more of our directors.

STEDTMAN

All right!

UMANSKI

I wanna know what we gonna do--_tonight_!

GOODKIND

We're going to get together. You fellows have got the wrong idea.
We're not tyrants, or monsters. We're Christians, and we want to act
like Christians. Only ... we've got to live, too. We've got to have
the things we're used to, just as you have. But I think I can promise,
if the strike's called off, you men will be kept, and put back just
where you were.... Ring the bell, Jerry.

     [JERRY _does so. A pause._]

BENFIELD

I guess you don't want me any more.

GOODKIND

No.

BENFIELD

Thanks.

     [_Exits L. A pause._]

GOODKIND

[_To_ HENNIG. _Making conversation_]: You live in Black River?

JOE

Yes.

GOODKIND

Married?

JOE

You betcha! Prettiest girl in West Virginia! We only been married a
year. I got her in the five-and-ten-cent store.... I mean, that's
where she was working. She's at her sister's now ... up to Pittsburg.
Left the day before I was elected to come here. [_Proudly_] I sent her
a telegram!

GOODKIND

You don't say so! [_To_ JERRY] Anything the matter with that
bell?

JERRY

The man's busy, I suppose. I'll show them out.

GOODKIND

If you will.... Well, good-night!

     [_He shakes hands with_ HENNIG, _and with_ STEDTMAN, _but,
     when he comes to_ UMANSKI, _that giant is immobile. His
     slow mind has been thinking out the earlier declaration._]

UMANSKI

What about this here twelve-hour day?

GOODKIND

We'll consider that after the strike's called off.

UMANSKI

And the twenty-four-hour shift?

GOODKIND

We'll consider that, too. Meanwhile--you go back just where you were!

UMANSKI

Then what good we gain by strike?

GOODKIND

Nothing's ever gained by quarreling. You'll find that out some day.

UMANSKI

Some day something be gain! Some day we gonna win! _This_--he don't go
on always! _You_ see!

JERRY

[_Insolently_]: Are you ready?

UMANSKI

[_As_ HENNIG _slips out R._, UMANSKI _looks at_ JERRY _with
contempt_.] _You_ see! [_Exits R._]

STEDTMAN

[_Significantly,--in a loud whisper_]: We'll be back later.
[_He exits R._]

JERRY

Swine!

     [_He exits R._ GOODKIND, _obviously worried by the
     interview, goes to the table, and rights the topmost paper.
     Looks at it. Sits, and examines other papers. The_ SERVANT
     _enters R._]

SERVANT

Did you ring, sir?

GOODKIND

Half an hour ago.

SERVANT

[_Indicating a box_]: I was signing for this. [GOODKIND,
_writing, doesn't look up_.] Can I do anything for you, sir?

GOODKIND

Yes.... Get me a drink.

     [_The_ SERVANT _hesitates_. GOODKIND _takes key from pocket
     and gives it to him. The_ SERVANT _unlocks a cellarette,
     up R., takes out decanter and glasses, relocks the
     cellarette, comes down L. of table, sets down the tray, and
     returns the key._]

Thanks. [_The_ SERVANT _starts to exit L._] And, Riggs! [_The_ SERVANT
_stops up L. C. Enter_ CLARE _L._] If Mr. Stedtman comes back tonight
... with one of the other men ... I'll see them in here.

SERVANT

Very good, sir. [_To_ CLARE]: This package just came for you,
Madam. [_He gives her the box, and exits L. A pause._]

GOODKIND

Everybody gone?

CLARE

They're all down in the billiard room. We wanted to make up a couple
of tables at bridge, but, with the men in here ... as usual....
Where's Jerry?

GOODKIND

I don't know.

CLARE

I've seen him just ten minutes this week.

GOODKIND

He's only been back three hours.

CLARE

Well ... I wish he wouldn't break up my dinner parties.

GOODKIND

[_Pushes back papers_]: What have you got there?

CLARE

[_Looking at the box_]: Another ... substitute....

GOODKIND

Substitute, for what?

CLARE

[_As she opens it_]: For my husband's time ... and love ... and
companionship. [_Holds up a sable scarf_] Sables. [_She gives it to_
GOODKIND.]

GOODKIND

[_Looking at it with admiration_]: Mm! You don't seem much surprised.

CLARE

No.... Whenever Jerry's been away longer than usual, or done something
he's a little ashamed of, there's a box from Cartier or Revillon.

GOODKIND

Must have been a whopper this time!

CLARE

[_Seriously. Wondering_]: Yes. [_She takes the scarf._]

GOODKIND

Pretty generous husband ... if you ask _me_!

CLARE

Yes. [_She puts the scarf away._]

GOODKIND

Upon my word, I don't know what you women want!... A man works his
heart and soul out to get you things, and still you're not satisfied!

CLARE

Maybe we'd like a little "heart and soul."

GOODKIND

Heart and soul, and what a man trades 'em for! You want your husband
to succeed, and give all his attention to you! You want him to
have plenty of money, and plenty of time! You're willing to take
everything, but you're not willing to pay for it!

CLARE

I suppose everybody _must_ pay.

GOODKIND

Surest thing you know! You women are all alike. My poor wife--_she_
had everything, and I used to catch her crying in a corner. We never
seemed to understand each other ... after we got _this_. She was
a good wife, too, but the best of you never seem to want what you
have.... Sometimes I think we don't any of us really want what we
struggle so hard to get. Sometimes I think we're all wrong! [_He looks
at his watch, and rises._] Well, I guess I'll go downstairs!

CLARE

I wish you would.

GOODKIND

[_Goes to her_]: You're not crying? [_She nods and looks up_] My God!
Can you beat it?

CLARE

I'll be down in a minute.

GOODKIND

Tell Riggs--will you?--if any one comes, I'll be ... talking to Jerry.
[_He puts his hand on her shoulder_] And ... buck up! There are people
worse off than we are ... and it's a great life if you don't weaken!

     [_He exits L._ CLARE _goes C. She puts the box,
     with its contents, on the table, dries her eyes, and is
     powdering her nose when_ DANIEL GILCHRIST _opens
     the door R. He is in business clothes, and starts to retire
     when he sees_ CLARE. _He would a little rather
     avoid the interview._]

CLARE

Come in! I'm just powdering my nose. Does that offend your reverence?

DANIEL

On the contrary; I agree with the man who said, "Put your trust in
God, and keep your powder dry." [_They laugh._]

CLARE

When did you get in?

DANIEL

Half an hour ago.

CLARE

Had dinner?

DANIEL

On the train. I was starved. Thank goodness, they don't charge for
dinner by the mile!... Riggs said your father-in-law was in here.

CLARE

He'll be up in a moment ... won't you sit down? We haven't had five
minutes together since----

DANIEL

     [_Hesitates about remaining._]

CLARE

I understand you're very happy in your new ... profession.

DANIEL

[_Sits._] Yes.

CLARE

You've got ... everything ... you want?

DANIEL

No, I haven't everything I want, but I'm happy.

CLARE

My father-in-law says if you settle this strike you're to be--but
that's a business secret. [_A pause_] I suppose I might tell you. [_A
pause_] He says it'll make you a big man in the company ... with a
tremendous salary.... You mustn't give it away!

DANIEL

The secret?

CLARE

The salary ... I suppose you've got over that.... So ... you don't
really seem to have lost anything by giving up your church.

DANIEL

No. Queer as it seems, sometimes I think I've gained ... in
opportunity.

CLARE

[_Chiefly to herself_]: Perhaps one _might_ have eaten one's cake and
had it, too.

DANIEL

Clare!

CLARE

You frightened me so that night, with the bugaboo of poverty. Don't
you think there might have been a compromise? Something half way?

DANIEL

Why open wounds that are beginning to heal?

CLARE

Yours seem quite healed.

DANIEL

And you have everything _you_ want?

CLARE

Yes.

DANIEL

You see ... I _was_ selfish ... to ask you to give up the things that
count so much with you for those that count with me.... Afterward,
when I knew you were to be married ... I was afraid for you ... and I
was wrong again. [_He rises_] You're happy ... and I'm honestly glad!

CLARE

Are you ... honestly ... happy?

DANIEL

Honestly.

CLARE

In just helping others?

DANIEL

In just helping others.

CLARE

I don't understand that.

DANIEL

You will ... some day.

     [JERRY _enters R. He has added two or three brandies to
     a generous allowance at dinner, and though not drunk, is
     sullen and quarrelsome. The more so at finding_ DANIEL
     _with_ CLARE].

JERRY

Hello, Gilchrist! In early, aren't you? [_Crosses._] I didn't mean to
interrupt a tête-à-tête!

CLARE

You're not interrupting.

JERRY

Where's father?

CLARE

I thought he was with you.

JERRY

I stopped for refreshments.

CLARE

I see you did.

JERRY

[_Laughs and turns to_ DANIEL]: We've been having a genial
evening with your delegation. That's why my wife's sore.

CLARE

I'm not "sore." I've been a little lonely.

JERRY

You don't look it!... I couldn't help going to Black River! I didn't
go for pleasure ... did I, Gilchrist?

DANIEL

No. There was work, and plenty of it. I was sorry you had to leave
when you did.

CLARE

Why, Jerry didn't leave much before you, did he?

JERRY

Just a few----

DANIEL

[_At the same time_]: Only twenty-four hours.... He wanted to get back
to you.

CLARE

But ... he's just _got_ back.... Where have you been, Jerry?

JERRY

Attending to business ... _of course_!

CLARE

Of course. [_She takes the scarf from the box on the table_] Good
night, Dan.

DANIEL

[_Cheerily_]: Good night! [_She starts to door L._].

JERRY

Oh ... you _got_ the furs!

CLARE

Yes ... thank you.

JERRY

Don't mention it!

CLARE

I'm very grateful ... but ...

JERRY

But what?

CLARE

Never mind. We'll talk about it some other time.

JERRY

We'll talk about it _now_!

DANIEL

I'll go. [_Starts R._].

JERRY

No, you won't! You made a crack about my leaving twenty-four hours
before you did! How do you know when I left? [_To_ CLARE] If
that's what you're sore about, for heaven's sake, drop it! I'm sorry
you've been alone, and I've sent you a handsome gift as an apology!

CLARE

I don't want it. [_She lays down the scarf._] I don't want to be paid
for shutting my eyes to any insulting thing you choose to do!

JERRY

And I don't propose to be made a blackguard before strangers!

CLARE

Dan isn't a stranger. And I don't want to make you a blackguard. Only
... since you've insisted on the truth.... Dan, when _did_ my husband
leave Black River?

DANIEL

I haven't seen him since Thursday.

JERRY

_There_ you have it! He hasn't _seen_ me since Thursday! Does it occur
to you that may have been because _he_ wasn't in Black River?

CLARE

No.

DANIEL

As a matter of fact, I wasn't.

JERRY

Oh!... Where were you?

DANIEL

At the mines.

CLARE

Is that the truth?

JERRY

Of course it's the truth! And, if it wasn't, I don't see that you've
any right to ask questions! I haven't done anything that wasn't in the
bargain! I haven't done anything every man doesn't do!

CLARE

Every man ... perhaps ... but one!

JERRY

Gilchrist! My God! Now we've got it! If you'd only married him! He's
good, because he says so! You ought to've been here a minute ago ...
when the company detective warned us not to mention Gilchrist to Joe
Hennig!

DANIEL

You mean----

JERRY

I mean Pearl Hennig!

DANIEL

Pearl Hennig? Why, _you_--you _know_ that's not true!

CLARE

_I_ know it's not true!

JERRY

Do you?

STEDTMAN

[_Off R._]: Say ... now ... listen ... you behave yourself!

JOE

[_Off R._]: Behave ... hell!

JERRY

[_Continuing above these voices_]: Ask Stedtman! Ask Hennig! And
before you make up your mind where _I_ was yesterday, ask where _he_
was----

     [_Enter_ STEDTMAN _and_ HENNIG, _followed by the_ SERVANT.
     _There is no dead cue for this entrance. They come
     on_--STEDTMAN _trying to hold back_ HENNIG--_flinging open
     the door as_ HENNIG _says_ "Hell!" HENNIG _confronts_
     GILCHRIST.]

JOE

You--Gilchrist! Where've you got my wife?

DANIEL

I haven't got your wife, Hennig.

JOE

The hell you haven't!

DANIEL

You'd better go, Clare.

JERRY

I want her to stay. [_To the_ SERVANT] All right! [_The_
SERVANT _exits_] What's it all about, Stedtman?

STEDTMAN

You can search me! Umanski stuck to us all the way home. When he left,
I went in to have a little talk with Joe ... alone.... See? There was
a telegram, and he read it, and----

JOE

And came here to ask Gilchrist: Where's my wife?

DANIEL

She told me she was going to her sister's.

JOE

She ain't never been _near_ her sister, and you know it! I just got
this from her sister! [_Holds out wire._ JERRY _snatches
it_.] Read it!

JERRY

[_Reading_]: Pearl ain't here. We ain't seen her. Ain't she home?

DANIEL

Maybe she is.

JOE

You know she ain't! And what if she is ... now? I don't want your
leavings!

DANIEL

Why do you say that, Hennig?

JOE

Why do I say it? Ain't I seen you down town with her? Ain't I found
you with her when I came home unexpected? I knew you was stuck on her,
and I warned you to stay away ... didn't I?

DANIEL

You were mistaken.

JOE

Didn't I warn you?

DANIEL

Yes.

JOE

And you came again ... didn't you?

DANIEL

Yes.

JERRY

Every man but one!

DANIEL

I went first on your account ... because they told me you were in
debt ... and why. I "came again" because she asked me to. This
disappearance looks queer, I admit, but people _do_ get lost, or hurt,
and taken to hospitals, and aren't identified.

JOE

[_Half convinced_]: You think----

DANIEL

I think your wife's all right, Joe. I don't think you ought to accuse
her publicly until you're sure she's not.

JOE

[_Cries_]: How'm I gonna be sure?

DANIEL

Suppose we ask the police to look for her?

JERRY

[_Turning quickly_]: What's the use of starting a hulla-ba-loo? You
don't want the woman accused publicly, but you're willing to spread
the news so this man'll be ashamed to go back home. We all know the
facts in the case, and the least said about it now the better. [_To_
JOE] You've found her out. Let her go ... and forget it!

CLARE

I don't think he ought to forget it.

JERRY

No?

CLARE

No. I don't think he ought to drop it now ... until we all know the
truth.

DANIEL

Right!

JOE

I want to know the truth! I got to! I been crazy about her! Maybe
that's a good idea ... the police. I _got_ to know the truth!

JERRY

[_At bay_]: All right! Stedtman! Where were you yesterday?

STEDTMAN

At the mines.

JERRY

What part of the mines?

STEDTMAN

All over.

JERRY

Did you see Gilchrist?

STEDTMAN

No.

     [DANIEL _never takes his eyes off_ CLARE. _He watches
     her, as the net tightens around him, observing, with
     ever-increasing agony, that he is convicted in her eyes._]

JERRY

When _did_ you see him last?

STEDTMAN

Thursday----Yes, it was Thursday.

JERRY

Where?

STEDTMAN

In Black River.

JERRY

Alone?

STEDTMAN

No.

JERRY

With whom?

STEDTMAN

With Mrs. Hennig.

JOE

I knew it! I'm gonna kill you!

JERRY

No, you're not. You're going to keep quiet. But you wanted the truth,
and you've got it. I've known it all along. [_To_ CLARE] Now
do you think I was lying?

CLARE

I don't know. I don't understand.

JERRY

Oh, yes, you do ... only you won't admit it!

CLARE

I suppose that's it.

     [_She takes her scarf and starts wearily to exit L._]

DANIEL

Clare! [_She stops_] I don't care what anyone believes but you!

CLARE

[_Turns_]: I'll believe you, Dan, if you'll only explain.

DANIEL

I----

JERRY

I forbid you to speak to my wife!

CLARE

Go on, Dan.

JERRY

I forbid you to speak to my wife!

DANIEL

[_Exploding ... to_ JERRY]: If I hadn't anybody to think
about but _you_!

     [_They stare at each other ... close together. Suddenly_,
     JERRY _lifts his open hand, and strikes_ DAN _across the
     mouth_. DAN _starts to retaliate, but controls himself,
     opens his clinched hands, and lowers his head_.]

CLARE

[_In almost speechless amazement_]: Dan; you're not going to take
that?

DANIEL

I have nothing to say.

CLARE

I didn't think you were a coward. You see, I was wrong about
everything.

     [_The scarf in her hand, she exits L. A short pause.
     Suddenly_, JOE, _emboldened by what he has witnessed,
     certain of_ DAN'S _cowardice, breaks from_ STEDTMAN _and
     rushes at_ GILCHRIST.]

JOE

You'll play around _my_ wife, will you? [DANIEL _merely looks
at him_.] You will ... will you?... Take that! [_He strikes out._
DANIEL _seizes his wrist, and, with one powerful, dexterous
movement, hurls him to the floor_].

DANIEL

[_As_ HENNIG _struggles to his feet_]: I hope I didn't hurt
you, Joe.

STEDTMAN

[_Looks from_ DANIEL _to_ JERRY]: My God!

JOE

[_Retreating_]: Don't worry! I'll get _you_! It may be a long time,
but I'll get _you_! [_He exits._]

DANIEL

[_With great kindness_]: Take him home, Stedtman. [STEDTMAN
_looks to_ JERRY, _who jerks his head toward the door_.]

STEDTMAN

Good-night, Mr. Jerry. Tell your father we'll be around ...
[DANIEL _turns and looks at him. He backs toward the door._]
... in ... the ... morning!

     [_Quick exit. He closes the door, which has been left open
     by_ HENNIG. _The two men look at each other._ JERRY _goes
     to upper left of table, and pours himself a drink_.]

JERRY

Well, you've made a nice mess of it! Why can't you keep your nose out
of other people's business? Why did you have to date my leaving Black
River?

DANIEL

Why did you have to get mixed up with Pearl Hennig?

JERRY

I can take what I want out of life!

DANIEL

You can. God says: "Here is the world. Take what you want ... AND PAY
FOR IT!"

JERRY

Rubbish! [_Drinks_] Save your preaching for those that like it!
[_Comes down_] And keep away from my wife!

DANIEL

Why?

JERRY

Because you're in love with her! Aren't you?

DANIEL

Yes.

JERRY

Well, you've a hell of a nerve to preach to me about Hennig's wife
while you're making a play for mine.

DANIEL

I'm not making a play for yours.

JERRY

No? You expect me to believe that when you admit---- Why did you pull
that hero stuff? Why did you keep your mouth shut when I lost my
temper? Why did you turn the other cheek?

DANIEL

You wouldn't understand, Jerry.

JERRY

Wouldn't I? Well, _you_ understand that I've forbidden you to speak
to her and that goes. If you come here again, I'll have the servants
throw you out, and I'll tell my father why. [GOODKIND _enters
L._]

DANIEL

Here's your father now.

JERRY

And that's not all I'll do!

[_Lowering his voice_]: Not by a damned sight! [_He wheels about and
exits._]

GOODKIND

[_Taking cigars from humidor_]: Smoke?

DANIEL

Thanks.

GOODKIND

[_Looking off after his son_]: Jerry don't like you much, does he?

DANIEL

Not much.

GOODKIND

[_Lights his cigar_]: Well ... how are things in Black River?

DANIEL

I think we've got everything settled.

GOODKIND

Fine! Benfield'll be up in a minute, and we'll hear the conditions!
[_He sits in an easy chair L._] Somehow, I knew you'd do it! Jerry
says you're a philanthropist, but I knew he was wrong!

DANIEL

Thanks.

GOODKIND

If you've really settled this strike ... our way ... your salary from
today is thirty thousand a year!

DANIEL

Thanks ... again.

GOODKIND

I'm dog-sick of rowing with labor! It's such utter damned waste!...
_Excuse_ me!

DANIEL

I agree with you!

GOODKIND

I'd hate to figure what walk-outs have cost this country!

DANIEL

Yes. I often wonder why it wouldn't be cheaper to keep the men
contented.

GOODKIND

How're you going to do it? Don't forget there are as many people paid
for stirring up strikes as for crushing 'em! Paid well, too! What the
laboring man _needs_ is a real interest in his job!

DANIEL

Why don't you give it to him?

GOODKIND How? By doubling his wages? The more most of 'em get
the less they want to do for it! You know that!

DANIEL

Yes.

GOODKIND

They've got a notion that you get rich by riding around in a limousine!

DANIEL

Don't you?

GOODKIND

Not often! Not unless you think while you ride ... or your father
thought for you! Even then, money doesn't stay long in bad company! To
hear those fellows you'd think there _wasn't_ any work, except what's
done with a pick! The man that really produces is the man with the
idea!

DANIEL

The man that produces most.

GOODKIND

Yes, and he ought to _get_ most!

DANIEL

He does!

GOODKIND

He always will! Show me a big man and I'll show you somebody who's
done a big job! It's the little man with no capacity and no chin that
cries about a conspiracy to keep him from being President!

DANIEL

There've got to be little men, too, Mr. Goodkind.

GOODKIND

And they've got to be satisfied with little rewards! We can't all have
the same bank-roll any more than we can all have the same health!
That's where unions go wrong! When you tell a man he's going to have
the same reward, whatever he does--not because he's got ability,
but because he's got a union card--down goes the standard, out goes
incentive, and to hell goes the whole social structure!

DANIEL

Right!

GOODKIND

That's why I'm fighting the unions! Not because I want to starve
the man who works, but because I want to fire the man who doesn't
... _and_ reward the man who does! I want to give every man a good
reason for doing his best! You can talk equality and democracy all
you like, Dan, but the minute the average man isn't afraid of being
fired he isn't afraid of being worthless! The minute you take away
incentive--the chance to get _this_--that minute you reduce the world
to a common level of common indifference and common futility!

DANIEL

Right!

GOODKIND

[_Rising_]. Have another cigar! [DANIEL _shows the one he has
just lighted, and shakes his head_.] Where the hell's----[_He turns,
and sees_ BENFIELD _standing in the door L._] Oh, Benfield!
Come in! Gilchrist has settled the strike!

BENFIELD

Good!

DANIEL

[_Giving a folded document to_ GOODKIND]: There are the
terms. [GOODKIND _sits L._] They may seem a little radical,
but I think I can show you they'll save money in the end!

GOODKIND

That's the idea!

[_With the paper in his hands, being opened, he feels confident and
cocky. To_ BENFIELD]: I told you I knew my man! The Lord
knows he's full of theories, but sometimes they--[_His eye falls upon
a disturbing line_] Wait a minute! What's this?

BENFIELD

What's what?

GOODKIND

[_Reading_]: "Hereby agreed ... the men are to be represented ... on
the board of directors...."

BENFIELD

[_Stunned_]: No!!

GOODKIND

Yes! And ... look here! [_Reading_] "All disputes ... referred ... to
a committee of arbitration...."

BENFIELD

The man's gone crazy!

DANIEL

When you're through....

GOODKIND

[_Reading_]: "One-half of all profits, over and above a fair dividend,
to be divided pro rata, according to wage and length of service." [_He
rises_] Why.... [_Words fail_] What is this?

BENFIELD

Jerry told you; it's surrender!

DANIEL

No! No! It's justice!

GOODKIND

It's nothing! It's a scrap of paper until I sign it, and I wouldn't
sign it if I had to shut up every mine in West Virginia! Why should I?
We've got 'em licked!

DANIEL

If you'll only let me explain....

GOODKIND

Explain _what_? They're licked! They sent a delegation up here, and
we've won over the delegation!

DANIEL

You mean you've _bought_ the delegation!

GOODKIND

Who said so?

DANIEL

Jerry.... Not ten minutes ago he referred to Stedtman as the company
detective. We both know Hennig's for sale. Buy him, and I'll go back
and tell them he's bought, and prove it!

BENFIELD

You're working for us!

DANIEL

I'm working for----

GOODKIND

Wait a minute, Benfield! We've all lost our heads! Daniel and I have
just been over all this, and he admitted I was right!

DANIEL

Right as far as you went, but you only went part way! You have a right
to a profit on your idea, and your investment, and the labor you put
back of it! The public has a right to coal, and transportation, and
all it needs and pays for! But, above everything else, the workman who
works honestly has a right to something more than the barest kind of a
bare living ... and it can all be done if you don't sink everybody's
rights to accumulate a fortune you don't need and can't use!... All
the argument on earth can't make you _all_ right so long as there's a
Umanski in the World!

GOODKIND

If these people succeed there's no limit to what they'll do!

DANIEL

If they fail there's no limit to what you'll do!

GOODKIND

There's no good transferring control from the intelligent few to the
ignorant mob!

DANIEL

There's no good in anything so long as we fight each other like
beasts, instead of helping each other like brothers! There's no hope
anywhere except in The Great Teacher, and the understanding that what
He taught was not only good morals, but good sense and good business!

BENFIELD

Highfalutin nonsense!

GOODKIND

Daniel doesn't realize what he's costing us!

DANIEL

What?

GOODKIND

Millions!

DANIEL

Oh, is that all?

BENFIELD

All?

DANIEL

Am I costing you one cigar? Am I costing you one blanket from your
warm beds, or one stick of furniture from your comfortable homes, or
anything else you'll ever miss? I'm taking nothing from you, and I'm
giving thousands of men like you a chance to live!

GOODKIND

You're costing yourself your last chance of success!

DANIEL

I don't want your kind of success! I'm through! I give you back your
job, as I gave you back your church, and I give you twenty-four hours
to sign that paper!

GOODKIND

If I do, you're finished!

DANIEL

I am when you've signed! [_He goes R._]

GOODKIND

If you walk out of that door you're throwing away the chance of your
life!

DANIEL

I'm keeping my soul! [_He opens the door._]

BENFIELD

You Judas!

GOODKIND

You damned fool!

DANIEL

Good-night!

     [DANIEL _closes the door behind him_.]

THE CURTAIN FALLS.




_ACT III._


     SCENE: "Overcoat Hall." New York.

     _This room--not too large--was the "front parlor" of a
     comfortable residence in down-town New York. Business,
     of the least attractive sort, and the slums long since
     have occupied the district. The building is a red-brick,
     low-stoop, English-basement house. The rear wall, which is
     the front of the dwelling, is pierced by two lofty windows,
     through which are seen the top of an iron railing, and a
     row of similar structures, fallen into decay, across the
     street. Between these windows, upon a low marble shelf, now
     holding a tray of cups and saucers, originally was a tall,
     gold-framed mirror. Over this hangs a blackboard, upon
     which has been chalked: "And so, to the end of history,
     hate shall breed hate, murder shall breed murder, until
     the gods create a race that can understand." Beneath the
     right window is a big radiator. Down stage R. are folding
     doors, partly open, or a large single door--whichever
     shall prove advisable. These--or this--lead to the main
     hall, and so to the basement, or upstairs, or to the front
     door, which slams solidly whenever it is closed. Left is
     a decrepit, white-marble mantel, with a "fake" fireplace.
     In front of this--in a jog, perhaps--a small platform, of
     the kind used in public schools. Upon this, a small table
     and a chair. Down stage of it, a geographical globe,
     suspended over which a wall-pad informing us that today
     is Wednesday. Above the mantel-shelf, another blackboard,
     upon which are some simple calculations, and the axiom,
     "Luck is work." In the center of the room is a long library
     table, with a brown cover, and with numerous kitchen chairs
     about it. On the table a reading lamp, a bowl of yellow,
     purple and brown chrysanthemums; and numerous books and
     magazines. Gilchrist has succeeded in making the old place
     comfortable and inviting. It is a combination of club,
     settlement house, school, reading room and lecture hall.
     Brown linoleum covers the floor, and there are brown
     denim curtains over the windows. A history chart hangs on
     the wall. There are book-shelves, and two or three big,
     comfortable chairs; a phonograph and, perhaps, even a
     motion picture machine._

     AT RISE: _It is just after seven o'clock on a brisk evening
     in late October, 1920._

     _Grubby, seated down stage of the center table, is
     concealed behind a copy of "The Woman's Home Companion,"
     which he has opened wide, and, holds in front of him._

     _Mack, a shabby ne'er-do-well, between thirty and forty
     years old, opens the doors R., and peers in uncertainly.
     Reassured by the character of the room, he enters, and
     looks about him curiously. Even from the rear, it is
     evident that Grubby is a person of no authority, so Mack
     dismisses him, temporarily, and warms his hands over the
     radiator. Next he inspects the quotation between the
     windows, pauses at the phonograph, and arrives in front of
     the platform L. The three words on this blackboard interest
     him. He reads them, turns away, turns back, and reads them
     again. At last, he sniffs contemptuously, and, completing
     his circuit, stops on the left of Grubby._

MACK

Hello ... you!

     [GRUBBY _lowers his paper, and reveals a
     sixty-year-old face, round, very red, and framed in a
     scraggly gray beard_.]

Is this Overcoat Hall?

GRUBBY

Yes.

MACK

I'm looking for Mr. Gilchrist.

GRUBBY

He ain't in, but he will be.

MACK

Are you working here?

GRUBBY

No.

MACK

Is _anybody_ working here?

GRUBBY

Mary Margaret.

MACK

Who's she?

GRUBBY

A girl.

MACK

What girl?

GRUBBY

The girl that cleans. A lame girl. Her mother's the janitor. Have a
seat. Somebody'll be along in a minute.

     [_And he resumes his magazine ... never completely
     abandoned. Mack, thrown upon his own resources, picks up
     one periodical after another, but Fortune does not smile.
     They prove to be "The Atlantic Monthly" ... "The Review of
     Reviews" ... "The Scientific American."_]

MACK

What are you reading?

GRUBBY

A piece about "Better Babies."

MACK

[_Laughs_]: Are you going into the baby business?

GRUBBY

No. I was a hansom driver.

MACK

Handsome! [_The laugh becomes uproarious._]

GRUBBY

Ah ... hacks! I drove hacks ... man and boy ... forty years. Then
taxis come in, and I went out!

MACK

What'd you do then?

GRUBBY

Took to drink.

MACK

Yeh; then drink went out.

GRUBBY

What's _your_ job?

MACK

Well, I was in the movies. That is, I was going to be, but the fellow
that was going to put up the money, his mother didn't die, after
all.... Before that, I sold bricks ... a few weeks. I sold books, too.
And life insurance. I never had any luck. Who wrote that, "Luck is
Work"?

GRUBBY

Mr. Gilchrist.

MACK

Well, it isn't! I've worked at _fifty_ things, and look at me! I
figure the world owes _me_ a living, and here I am, waiting for a bite
of grub and an overcoat! Is it true the boss'll give you an overcoat?

GRUBBY

He will if he's got one.

MACK

That's what a fellow told me. He said that's why they call this
Overcoat Hall.

GRUBBY

Yes.

MACK

I suppose a hard-luck story's the proper spiel.

GRUBBY

You don't get no chance for a spiel. He don't ask you nothing. You
just come, and help yourself, and talk things over ... if you want
to. Coffee and sandwiches every night--and suppers and sermons on
Wednesdays.

MACK

Preaching! [_Looks at the wall pad, and reaches for his hat._]
Wednesday. I'll be back Thursday.

GRUBBY

Not regular preaching! Just talks! Sometimes they's a picture show
... but the pictures is rotten! No shooting, or nothing! But you can
always sneak a little snooze 'til you get to the hand-out!

     [MARY MARGARET _enters through the open door R.
     Her two crutches are rubber-tipped, so her invasion is
     noiseless. She occupies herself with the cups and saucers
     C._ MARY MARGARET _is fifteen, and pathetically
     pretty. The conspicuous feature of her costume is a pair of
     soiled gold slippers that once set off a ball gown._]

MACK

Don't he try to reform you?

GRUBBY

Naw! The way he talks, you'd think you was as good as him. He says
to me, the other night, he says, "You're a good man yet, Grubby," he
says. "You're strong and healthy," he says, "and, if you learned to
drive a taxi, all the best people in New York would be telephoning for
your cab. I'll lend you the money," he says. Gee; he almost had me
started!

MACK

What's the catch?

GRUBBY

I don't know.

MACK

There must be graft in it somewhere.

GRUBBY

If you ask me, I think the poor gent's got a few nuts in his nose-bag.
A little bit batty. That's what _I_ say!

MARY MARGARET

[_Turning down_]: And that's what you got no right to say, Grubby!

GRUBBY

[_To_ MACK]: Mary Margaret.

MARY MARGARET

He's been good to you, ain't he?

GRUBBY

That's why we think he's nutty. What's he do it for?

MARY MARGARET

'Cause he loves you.

GRUBBY

What for?

MARY MARGARET

God knows! [_She has brought down a cup and saucer, with other
utensils, and is clearing and setting a place at one end of the table.
With this exclamation, she locates the cup somewhat forcibly._] After
seven o'clock now, and the meeting in half an hour, and he ain't had a
bite since morning!

MACK

Where _is_ he?

MARY MARGARET

He went to see a man that killed himself. [MACK _laughs_]
I mean ... tried to. It was in the papers this afternoon, and Mr.
Gilchrist says: "I want to talk to that man." [MACK'S
_interposition has brought his words to her mind, and reflecting
on them, she explodes_.] Graft!! Why he didn't have the rent money
yesterday, and he was desprit! He ain't had money to get himself a
pair of shoes, and nobody helps him, or comes near him, but you bums
that roast him behind his back! [GOODKIND _appears in the
doorway R._]

GRUBBY

I didn't roast him. I just said he was crazy.

GOODKIND

[_Crisply_]: Mr. Gilchrist?

MARY MARGARET

He'll be here any minute. Won't you come in?

GOODKIND

Thanks.

     [_He comes forward a few steps, and looks at_
     GRUBBY, _who, after an instant, takes refuge
     behind his Home Companion_. GOODKIND _crosses
     to_ MACK, _who turns up stage. He surveys the
     blackboard._ MARY MARGARET _finishes her task_.]

MARY MARGARET

[_Offering a periodical to_ GOODKIND]: Take a magazine, and
sit down. [_With a nod, he accepts._] I got to go make the coffee.
[_To_ GRUBBY] You can come and carry it up in about fifteen
minutes. [_She turns and catches_ MACK _filching a loaf of
sugar_.] Graft!! ... Well, you ought to know! [_She exits R., singing
"I'm a Pilgrim." By now_, GOODKIND _is reading in a big chair
L._ MACK _glances at him, and comes down to_ GRUBBY.]

MACK

Think she'll tell _him_?

GRUBBY

Naw! Anyway, he don't care! He says we're all brothers in God.

MACK

Gee!

GRUBBY

That's what he told Jimmie Curran--brothers in God--and Jimmie just
up for pinchin' a guy's pants. Jimmie lives across from his room
upstairs, and Jimmie says he's clean loco. [GOODKIND _notes
name and address on the margin of his magazine_.] Guess what he's got
in the back yard!

MACK

What?

GRUBBY

Tennis. And handball games for children. And, in the other two houses,
he's got flats ... with bathtubs ... and the rents ain't what they ask
now for stalling a horse. Why wouldn't I say he was crazy? Everybody
says so but Mary Margaret!

     [DANIEL _enters R. He is shabby, but beaming. He
     carries two books, which he lays on some piece of furniture
     up R.; after which he removes his overcoat, and hangs it
     over an old umbrella already suspended from a wall-rack
     down stage of the door._]

DANIEL

Hello, Grubby! You're early! And you've brought a friend! That's fine!
[_He shakes hands with_ MACK.] You're very welcome! [_Sees
and crosses to_ GOODKIND] And Mr. Goodkind! Well! You're
welcome, too! [_Shakes hands_] Have you come down to look us over?

GOODKIND

[_His eyes indicating the others_]: I've come down on personal
business.

DANIEL

Oh, yes! [_Turns_] Grubby, there's a box of books in the hall. How
would you and your friend like to----

GRUBBY

I promised to help with the coffee.

DANIEL

I see. [GRUBBY _exits. To_ MACK, _who has been
stealing surreptitious glances at the overcoat_] And you?

MACK

I just wanted to speak to you a minute.

DANIEL

All right. After the meeting.

MACK

I wanted to ask you----

DANIEL

_After the meeting!_ [_Turns back to_ GOODKIND] Sit down.

GOODKIND

[_Sitting_]: Thanks.

     [MACK--_resentful, unobserved, uncertain of
     getting the coat honestly--is sorely tempted. One pull,
     one step, and he is safe from work and denial. During the
     following, standing almost in the doorway, he is drawing
     the garment toward him._]

DANIEL

[_To_ GOODKIND]: I'm glad you dropped in tonight, because
I've been intending to call on you, but there's so much to do
here--[_The coat comes off the rack, and with it, the umbrella, which
falls with a crash. Both men rise, discovering_ MACK, _coat
in hand_.] Hello! I thought you'd gone.

MACK

No; I--I--wanted----

DANIEL

You wanted my coat.

MACK

[_Advancing with a glad smile of pretended relief that_
DANIEL _has found the simple explanation_]: Yes ... that's
what I wanted to ask you.

DANIEL

I'm so glad you said so. [MACK _shows surprise_.] Because,
if you hadn't and I hadn't understood, you might have been tempted to
take it without asking--and then you'd've been so sorry and ashamed. A
man couldn't come into another man's house, and be welcomed, and then
take the other man's coat, without losing his self-respect ... could
he? And, of course, if we're going to pull ourselves together, and get
out of a hole, we _must_ keep our self-respect.

MACK

I wouldn't steal----

DANIEL

You couldn't.... It's your coat.... You asked for it, and I gave it
to you.... When you've worn it ... into a good job ... come back and
help me give another to someone who needs it as you do.

MACK

I will.

DANIEL

Of course you will. [_Helps him into the coat, and then shakes his
hand._] Good-night.

MACK

[_Hesitates, amazed_]: Good-night. [DANIEL _turns L., and
with a gesture expressive of the conviction that this man is mad_,
MACK _exits_.]

GOODKIND

Well, I'll be damned! [DANIEL _laughs_] He won't come back!
Not one in ten would come back!

DANIEL

All right!... That coat cost twenty dollars. If one in ten _does_ come
back, we've made a man for two hundred dollars. Isn't it worth the
price?

GOODKIND

Maybe ... if a man's _got_ the price! Have you?

DANIEL

Like our friend ... that's what I wanted to ask you.

GOODKIND

It's not what I wanted to ask _you_.

DANIEL

I'm rather badly in need of money, and my father----

GOODKIND

Your father understood you well enough to leave you only an income. I
foolishly turned over some of the principal, and, in three months, you
threw away twenty thousand dollars. You could have had a big salary,
and you threw _that_ away. You're an utter damned waster--if you're no
worse!

DANIEL

What do you mean ... worse?

GOODKIND

You'll soon find out what I mean! You've had my son's wife down here,
haven't you?

DANIEL

Once or twice.

GOODKIND

Or three times ... or a dozen! _He_ knows!

DANIEL

I've asked her not to come again.

GOODKIND

And _he's_ asked her ... but she's coming when she likes. She says so.
Because she's in love with you.... God knows what women see in your
kind of man! There was Pearl Hennig----

DANIEL

Please!

GOODKIND

Oh, my son told me! And I hear ... in the neighborhood ... that
you've worse women than that running here! Women of the streets!

DANIEL

Not many. They're welcome, but they don't come.

GOODKIND

Well, that's _your_ business! And if your neighbors get sick of having
a resort of this kind in their midst, and drive you out, _that's_ your
business! But my son's wife----

DANIEL

Is _her_ business!

GOODKIND

And _his_! Only Jerry's in no condition to settle the matter! He's
broken down from worry and overwork, and you're partly responsible,
and that puts it up to me! You can take this as a final warning!
If you see Clare again, I'll act, and I'll act quick! That's all!
Good-night! [_He gathers up his coat and hat, and crosses to the
door._]

DANIEL

[_Waking from a reverie, and turning R._] Oh! Mr. Goodkind!

GOODKIND

[_Expecting capitulation. Comes down R._]: Yes?

DANIEL

How about the money?

GOODKIND

You've had what's coming to you!

DANIEL

But that's _nothing_! I pay half that for these crazy houses! And I've
gone terribly in debt fitting them up!

GOODKIND

With bath tubs and tennis courts!

DANIEL

People must have baths.

GOODKIND

These dirty immigrants!

DANIEL

The dirtier they are, the worse they need 'em. I want to show them how
to live, and I want to show other people that you don't have to make a
pigpen to make a profit!

GOODKIND

Are you making a profit?

DANIEL

Enormous! And, to go on, I've got to have twenty-two thousand dollars.

GOODKIND

Oh, is that all? Twenty-two thousand dollars to go on making a fool of
yourself! Well, you won't get it!

DANIEL

Not even as an advance?

GOODKIND

Not a penny!

DANIEL

Don't drive me to----

GOODKIND

To what?

DANIEL

[_Rather at a loss_]: To ask for an accounting!

GOODKIND

[_Hardly believing his own ears_]: To ask for ... WHAT? [_This is the
last straw._] Now listen to me! I've stood all I'm going to stand!
You've run amuck! You've become dangerous to yourself ... and me ...
and the neighborhood! You're going to stop it, and you're going to
stop now!

DANIEL

That's your mistake.

GOODKIND

Is it? A year ago you gave me twenty-four hours to sign a paper, and I
did it, and it cost me two million dollars! Tonight I give you thirty
minutes to shut up this place, and quit seeing my daughter, and if you
don't do it----

DANIEL

As I won't!

GOODKIND

I'll be here inside of half an hour with a doctor!

DANIEL

And then?

GOODKIND

Then we'll file a petition to have you declared incompetent! [_He
starts R._]

DANIEL

Mr. Goodkind, you don't, mean that! You don't mean that because I'm
trying to help----

GOODKIND

Help ... whom? Strikers, and street women, and general riff-raff!
And you don't even help _them_ ... because nobody _can_! And, if
you _could_, and _did_, how in the name of God would that help the
Community? If I find you're still crazy in half an hour, I'll _say_
you're crazy, and _I'll prove it_! [_He goes to the door._] Think it
over! [_As he is about to exit, he narrowly escapes collision with a
neatly-dressed, capable-looking man, who apologizes, in nearly correct
English, and, with a contemptuous glance, crosses to up C._]

THE MAN

Excuse me!

GOODKIND

All right! [_He follows the man back into the room._] Haven't I seen
you somewhere before?

THE MAN

Yes, sir. My name's Umanski.

GOODKIND

Umanski? [_He remembers_] _You're_ not the Pole who came to my house
last year with a delegation?

UMANSKI

Yes.

GOODKIND

Well, I'll be----[DANIEL _fills his pipe from a jar on the
mantelpiece L._]

UMANSKI

Mr. Gilchrist tell me stay in New York. He's teach me English, and
find me good job. I'm work now eight hours on the docks, and six on
myself. [GOODKIND _again starts to go_.]

DANIEL

Mr. Goodkind! [GOODKIND _turns_] Umanski's got an invention.
If you'll see it----

GOODKIND

I'll see _you_ in ... half an hour! [_He exits._]

UMANSKI

What's _he_ doing down here, Mr. Gilchrist?

DANIEL

He says I'm crazy, and he's going to shut up this place. Of course, he
won't. [_He opens a book._]

UMANSKI

Don't be too sure.

DANIEL

Nonsense! [_He sits_] I made him angry. [_He marks a passage._] And
somebody's told him a lot of lies!

UMANSKI

Somebody's told a good many people lies! Yesterday I heard a man say
you run this house to ... to ... [_He hesitates._ DAN _looks
up_.] ... to get women!

DANIEL

Who said that?

UMANSKI

A wop named Malduca.

DANIEL

Oh, yes! I took his daughter in here once ... for a week ... until he
got sober.

UMANSKI

They's a good many like that.

DANIEL

Oh, not a good many!

UMANSKI

Enough to make trouble. Why not you carry a pistol?

DANIEL

It's generally men with pistols that get shot.

UMANSKI

One of them fellows get you----[_Enter_ MARY MARGARET.]

DANIEL

[_Warning him_]: Sh!

MARY MARGARET

I s'pose you ain't had any supper.

DANIEL

Not yet. [GRUBBY _enters with a tray, from which_ MARY
MARGARET _transfers dishes to the table_.]

UMANSKI

I brought you some money.

DANIEL

Money?

UMANSKI

My boss he give me another raise. He gonna make _me_ boss after while.
So I like to begin pay back what you lend me. [_Takes out bills._]

DANIEL

Wait 'til you've sent for your family.

UMANSKI

I'm gonna send now. My big boy I'm gonna send school ... college,
maybe. That pump I make she goes fine. I show my boss ... like you say
... because he know about coal mines ... and he say if she work she
save whole lots of lives and money. She work, all right! [_He has put
down the bills, and brought forth an English grammar._] How about I go
upstairs and study?

DANIEL

Sure! Go right up to my room! I'll be along after the meeting!
[UMANSKI _exits_. GRUBBY _starts to follow_.] Where
are you going, Grubby?

GRUBBY

Sandwiches! [_He exits._]

MARY MARGARET

[_Down L._]: Your supper's ready!

DANIEL

Thanks. [_Looks up_] What's this we're wearing? Golden slippers?

MARY MARGARET

Uh-huh! I took 'em out of the barrel of clothes that pretty lady sent.

DANIEL

[_Sitting at table_]: Supper with Cinderella!

MARY MARGARET

[_Setting dish before him_]: Gee, I love that story! [_She sits beside
him, facing front._] When you tell it to me, you make me believe I'm
her.

DANIEL

If you believe it ... you _are_.

MARY MARGARET

I guess believin' ain't never goin' to make _me_ dance.

DANIEL

You can't tell ... if you believe hard enough.

MARY MARGARET

That's what you said before, and I've tried, but, somehow, it don't
work.

DANIEL

That's the very time to go on. If we stop, just because it don't work,
that isn't faith.

MARY MARGARET

No; I s'pose not.

DANIEL

And faith moves mountains. Once upon a time there was a woman who'd
been sick twelve years.

MARY MARGARET

What was the matter with her?

DANIEL

I don't know. But there was a Man in that city who said He could
even make the dead rise. And everybody laughed at Him ... as they
would today. But the woman didn't laugh, and one morning, when He was
passing her house, she got up and followed Him ... just to touch the
hem of His cloak. And what do you think?

MARY MARGARET

I duno.

DANIEL

She was cured. And the Man said----

MARY MARGARET

Oh, now, I know. "Thy faith hath made thee whole."

DANIEL

That's right.

MARY MARGARET

Could God do that for me?

DANIEL

Why not?

MARY MARGARET

It would be an awful big favor.

DANIEL

But if He doesn't, you must go on. If faith doesn't heal our hurts, it
helps us to bear them. And that's almost the same thing, isn't it?

MARY MARGARET

[_Doubtfully_]: Yes.

DANIEL

Like believing you're Cinderella.

MARY MARGARET

Yes.

DANIEL

We can't decide what we want, and then be angry and doubtful because
it doesn't happen our way. Because, all the time it's happening His
way. The only thing we can be sure of is that He knows what's best.

MARY MARGARET

That's right.... You mean, if God wants me to be well, some day He'll
make me well?

DANIEL

If you believe hard enough.

MARY MARGARET

And if He don't?

DANIEL

Then _that's_ right ... if you believe hard enough.

MARY MARGARET

I will, Mr. Gilchrist. [_She rises_] You ain't touched your supper.

DANIEL

I've had plenty.

MARY MARGARET

I'll send Grubby up for the tray.

     [_She exits._ DANIEL _finishes, and puts up his
     napkin. He observes that the window-shades have not been
     drawn. Attends to that R. Facing L., with his hand on the
     shade of the window L., he pauses to look out._ PEARL
     HENNIG _enters. Pearl is 25, and her clothes are
     cheaply flashy. An experienced eye should lose no time in
     appraising her. She has an air of alarm. She looks around
     for_ DAN, _and then isn't quite sure of him in the
     shadows up stage_.]

PEARL

[_Uncertainly_]: Mr. Gilchrist? [_He half turns_] Don't stand by that
window!

DANIEL

Hello, Pearl! [_He draws the shade_] How well you're looking. [_Comes
down_] What's the matter with the window?

PEARL

It ain't safe.

DANIEL

[_Smiling_]: Are _you_ going to advise me to carry a pistol?

PEARL

No. Just to keep out o' sight of people that do.

DANIEL

Meaning?

PEARL

Meaning Joe Hennig.

DANIEL

I thought Joe was in Black River.

PEARL

He ain't. I told you he was ashamed to go home. I told you he was
gonna stay here an' get you!

DANIEL

[_Sits on bench in front of table_]: Well?

PEARL

[_Down stage R. of table_]: Well ... he stayed. I went to him ... like
I told you ... an' said it wasn't you ... an' ast him to take me back.
An' he said I was a liar an' he was gonna get you. I told you all
that!

DANIEL

Yes; I guess you did.

PEARL

While he was workin' up town I didn't hear nothin' about him. But a
little while ago he lost his job, an' began hangin' around down here.
An' he's been drinkin', an' talkin' wild, an' I come in to tell you.

DANIEL

That's kind of you, Pearl, but I'm not afraid of Joe.

PEARL

I am.... He's got his gang.... I _know_.

DANIEL

_How_ do you know?

PEARL

[_Hesitates_]: Well, last night I met up with one of his pals.... An'
_he'd_ been drinkin'. An' he said Joe said you was livin' on women,
an' this place was a blind, an' nobody's wife was safe while you was
in the neighborhood. An' this man said they was gonna get together,
an' drive you out. They're dang'rous, Mr. Gilchrist. For God's sake,
believe me! For God's sake, telephone the police!

DANIEL

There's no telephone here, Pearl. But there's always an officer at
hand, and I'm among friends. Don't worry. Sit down, and wait for the
meeting. I haven't seen you in ages.

PEARL

[_Doesn't sit. She is restless_]: Two weeks.

DANIEL

What are you doing?

PEARL

I'm workin' at Macy's.

DANIEL

Like it?

PEARL

[_Defiantly_]: Better than bein' with Joe.

DANIEL

If you'd stayed with Joe, maybe he wouldn't _be_ drinking.

PEARL

He always did. That's why I ast you to stick around in Black River.
That's one reason I quit.

DANIEL

_One_ reason.

PEARL

[_Admitting it grudgingly_]: They was others.... I wanted good
clothes, an' a good time ... jus' like other women.

DANIEL

[_Thinking of_ CLARE]: Yes ... like other women.

PEARL

[_Indicating her costume_]: An' I've got 'em!

DANIEL

Yes; you've "got 'em." But don't you think ... sometimes ... you and
the other women ... that they cost you too much?

PEARL

I don't get you.

DANIEL

I only mean isn't there something worth more than good clothes and a
good time? A good home, maybe, with love in it ... and little children.

     [PEARL _hesitates, and then the uneasiness she has
     never lost takes her up to peep out of the curtain_.]

PEARL

We oughtn't to be here talkin'.

DANIEL

Why not?

PEARL

I'm frightened of Joe.

DANIEL

You needn't be.

PEARL

I am. I can't help it. I got a hunch. I ain't told you all this man
said, an' I ain't told you how he come to say it, but he said it was
gonna be soon, an' I got a hunch sumpin's gonna happen _tonight_.
Please let me go out an' phone! Please let me get the police!
[DANIEL _laughs_] You're crazy, Mr. Gilchrist! You're just
crazy! [_An infinitesimal pause. She turns._] An' I'm goin'! [_She
runs to the door, which opens before her, and admits_ CLARE
GOODKIND. CLARE _is smartly gowned, in street attire,
but somehow, she has the appearance of being disheveled ... of having
dressed in haste_.]

DANIEL

Clare--Mrs. Goodkind! [_A pause_] Mrs. Hennig's just going.

CLARE

Mrs. Hennig?

DANIEL

_Pearl_ Hennig. You've heard your husband mention her name.

PEARL

I know your husband.

CLARE

I know you do. [_Her tone tells how much she knows._]

PEARL

[_Quails_]: I guess you ain't got much use for me.

CLARE

Why? What's the difference between us?

PEARL

[_Unable to make it out_]: Well ... good-night! [_She exits._]

DANIEL

Clare, I asked you....

CLARE

I'd nowhere else to go. I've left him.

DANIEL

Left ... Jerry?

CLARE

Yes. For good. He struck me.

DANIEL

No!!

CLARE

Here ... in the breast! And he's lying now ... brandy-soaked and
half-conscious ... across the foot of my bed!

DANIEL

I can't ... believe....

CLARE

He's been drinking ... more and more! And, of course, there've been
women ... from the beginning! All kinds of women! _That_ woman,
salesgirls, stenographers, women of our own class! Do you remember ...
in your church ... a Mrs. Thornbury? He's been quite open about _her_!
Tonight we were going out to dinner! He came to my room ... drunk ...
and babbled that he'd refused to go until she was invited! Then _I_
refused to go, and he accused me ... _of you_ ... and struck me with
his fist!

DANIEL

He accused ... _you_?

CLARE

Yes. And then he tried to take me in his arms! Night after night he's
come to me ... drunk ... and held me in his arms. And I said once
there was nothing more degrading than poverty! In the past two years
I've learned what degradation means! I've come to see your way at
last! I've come to realize that the material things are nothing, and
that love is all! It isn't too late?

DANIEL

It's never too late!

CLARE

I knew you'd say that! I'll share your work ... your want ... if need
be ... gladly! Only take me away!

DANIEL

[_Not yet comprehending_]: But my work is here!

CLARE

We can't stay here! Jerry suspects us! He's made his father suspect
us! Do you know what they're planning to do now? [_He nods_] Jerry
wants to send you to an asylum! He said so tonight! And he'll do it,
too! The strange thing about Jerry is that, with his mind going, and
his health gone, he still gets what he wants! Take me away, and "we'll
have five or six rooms, and each other!"

DANIEL

Clare!

CLARE

Don't you understand that I'm offering myself to you?

DANIEL

Yes; I understand!

CLARE

I love you! I need you! I've always loved you, and needed you, even
when I lied to you, and myself! This is our last chance for happiness!
I've been blind, and stupid, and cruel, but it isn't too late! Take
me, and hold me, and we'll both forget!

DANIEL

Forget?

CLARE

Forget everything! Won't you take me, dear?

DANIEL

No!

CLARE

Don't you want me?

DANIEL

No!

CLARE

That's not true! You love me! You've always loved me! Look at me, and
deny it if you can!

DANIEL

I don't deny it! I love you!

CLARE

Then take me!

DANIEL

I love the good in you ... the good you're trying so hard to kill! I
love you because you're big enough to do what's right!

CLARE

What _is_ right?

DANIEL

Go back to your husband!

CLARE

I'd rather die!

DANIEL

I'd rather you died ... than _this_!

CLARE

Oh, you fanatic! You blind fanatic!

DANIEL

I love you!

CLARE

Love! You don't know what love means! You're only half a man!

DANIEL

And I'm praying to God, with all my strength, to save us from the
other half!

CLARE

For what?

DANIEL

For you ... and HIM ... and for MY PEOPLE. [_Off R., very softly, as
she goes down the hall_, MARY MARGARET _is heard singing "I'm
a Pilgrim; I'm a Stranger."_] For the little girl out there.

CLARE

And for them you'd send me back to degradation?

DANIEL

That little girl's known degradation that you and I will never know.
And she's singing. Her constant companions are poverty and pain. And
she's singing. She's crippled. She may never walk again. And still she
can say God's will be done. She believes in me. I can't disappoint her
and the rest. I'm going on with my job, and you're going back to yours!

CLARE

You mean to Jerry?

DANIEL

Yes.

CLARE

You think _that's_ God's will?

DANIEL

I know it's your job. You took it with your eyes open. It's up to you
to see it through.

CLARE

Must I go on forever paying for one mistake?

DANIEL

Somebody must pay for our mistakes. That it was wrong to make a
bargain doesn't make it right to break the bargain when we get tired
of it.

CLARE

I don't know what to do.

DANIEL

Play the game. Go back to that poor, mistaken man lying across the
foot of your bed--his mind going and his health gone. Bear your
punishment and help him to bear his. That's your duty!

CLARE

Duty! Duty!! What about happiness?

DANIEL

There _is_ no other happiness. Oh, don't you see, my dear, _that's_
been your _great_ mistake? You're always crying--you and the world--"I
want to be happy!" Happiness is service! Happiness is clean-living,
and clear-thinking, and self-forgetfulness, and self-respect!

CLARE

And love?

DANIEL

Love _isn't_ all. Not the love you mean. You said: "Take me, and
we'll both forget." Could we have forgotten promises unkept, faith
disappointed, aspirations unrealized? No, my dear, love isn't all;
nor even happiness. There's something bigger, and better, and more
important, and that something is ... DUTY!

CLARE

The world doesn't think that!

DANIEL

That's what's wrong with the world! [_A pause._]

CLARE

You want me to go back?

DANIEL

I want you to be right!

CLARE

Well, then ... I'm going through. I'm going back, and play the game
... with you in my heart always. You don't forbid that, do you?

DANIEL

You are in mine always.

CLARE

And this isn't good-bye. Sometime ... somewhere ... in this world
... or out of it ... there must be a moment ... and a place ... to
retrieve mistakes.... Good-night.

     [_She starts up. He passes her, and opens the door._]

DANIEL

Clare ... good-night. [_She takes his hand. Then she exits. The outer
door slams. Then a cab door ... faintly. He sinks ... tired with the
effort of renunciation. Afterward he comes down, slowly, and drops
on the bench in front of the table._ MARY MARGARET _enters,
singing "I'm a Pilgrim," in a higher key, to march tempo, keeping time
with her crutches. She is down R. when she sees_ DANIEL.]

MARY MARGARET

Ain't you well, Mr. Gilchrist?

DANIEL

Just tired.

MARY MARGARET

Maybe you ain't believin' hard enough. [_He looks up._] It's 'most
time for the meetin'. [GRUBBY _enters with a tray_.]

GRUBBY

I brung the sandwiches.

     [MRS. MULLIGAN _enters. She is the worse for liquor, and
     glad of a warm place to enjoy it. She slinks in rather
     furtively, and sits R. end of table. She is followed on
     by_ MR. _and_ MRS. HENCHLEY. _He is a middle-aged and
     respectable locksmith. She is larger than he, and somewhat
     formidable._]

MARY MARGARET

Good evening, Mrs. Mulligan.

MRS. MULLIGAN

[_With a hiccough_]: It is not!

GRUBBY

[_Aside to_ MARY MARGARET]: Bums ... like that ... ain't got
no business here.

MR. HENCHLEY

Good evening, Mary Margaret. [_She nods._]

MRS. HENCHLEY

Good evening, Mr. Gilchrist.

DANIEL

Good evening, and welcome.

MR. HENCHLEY

[_To_ DANIEL]: I guess we're early.

MRS. HENCHLEY

[_To_ DANIEL]: Yes. I wanted to speak to you ... about Mr.
Henchley's pants.

DANIEL

Mr. Henchley's _what_?

MRS. HENCHLEY

Pants. I took out a spot ... with gasoline ... and hung 'em on the
fire-escape that runs across from this house, and tonight they was
gone, and I think you ought to look into your lodgers.

DANIEL

I will.

     [_Enter_ MISS LEVINSON. _She is a Jewess--a
     garment-worker; thoughtful, studious, spectacled._]

MISS LEVINSON

Good evening, everybody!

DANIEL

Good evening, Miss Levinson.

[_The others, too, acknowledge the greeting._]

MISS LEVINSON

I've brought back your book.

MRS. HENCHLEY

What've you been reading?

MISS LEVINSON

George Bernard Shaw.

MRS. HENCHLEY

I s'pose you ain't read "The Sheik"?

MISS LEVINSON

[_With justifiable pride_]: I've been reading "Cæsar and Cleopatra."

DANIEL

[_Taking the volume_]: That's where we got the quotation on the board.
I've jumbled it a bit. [_Reads_] "And so, to the end of history, hate
shall breed hate, murder shall breed murder, until the gods create a
race that can understand."

MISS LEVINSON

That's it; isn't it? A race that can--

     [_The door is opened violently, and enter_ PEARL HENNIG.]

PEARL

Mr. Gilchrist!

DANIEL

Oh, Pearl; I thought you'd gone.

PEARL

No; I've been watchin', an' I've got to speak to you ... _quick!_

DANIEL

In just a few minutes.

PEARL

_Now!_ Joe's out there!

MRS. MULLIGAN

Ah, shut up!

DANIEL

Mrs. Mulligan!... Pearl; you're interrupting!... You were saying, Miss
Levinson?

MISS LEVINSON

We seem always to have hated everything different from ourselves ...
in station, or race, or religion.

DANIEL

Yes. It's stupid ... and instinctive. I've noticed we're inclined to
blame a man for a pug nose ... if ours is Roman. Some day we'll get
over the idea that all who differ from us are villains, and that we
should hate each other instead of trying to understand each other. It
was on the battlefields that I came to believe a man's life might well
be given to teaching and to preaching ... love! [_A solid half-brick
crashes through a practical pane of glass in the window L. Everybody
screams and rises._] Don't be alarmed. It's only some hoodlum!

PEARL

Mr. Gilchrist ... it's Joe! I seen him in front! That's why I couldn't
get out! Somebody go get the police! [_A general movement._]

DANIEL

No!

PEARL

He's got other men with him! He'll kill you! _[The front door slams.
Pearl hurls herself against the door R._] Here he comes! Don't let
him in! Somebody help me hold this door! [_In spite of her, the door
slowly opens._]

DANIEL

Pearl! Stand aside! [_Enter_ GOODKIND.] It's only Mr.
Goodkind!

GOODKIND

Yes. And your neighbors are calling.

MR. HENCHLEY

What's the matter? [_Together_]

MRS. HENCHLEY

Is there any danger? [_Together_]

MARY MARGARET

I'll get the cops. [_Together_]

VOICES IN THE GANG

[_Off stage_]: The fake! The damned pimp! Drive him out! Come on....
Rush him!

     [_Suddenly there is the noise of the oncoming._ PEARL
     _throws herself before_ DAN. MARY MARGARET _is just behind
     him. The others retreat to the platform. Headed by_ JOE
     HENNIG ... _drunk_ ... _the rowdies enter_--JIMMIE CURRAN,
     _a big dockman, his wife and half a dozen hangers-on of the
     neighborhood_.]

JOE

[_En route_] Come on, fellows! We'll show this guy! We'll show--[_He
confronts them_] By God! Caught in the act! [_To his gang_] That's my
wife!

DANIEL

Caught in what act, Joe?

JOE

Why ... caught ... in the act....

DANIEL

Tell him what we're here for.... You, Grubby.

GRUBBY

[_Following the example of_ PETER]: I don' want to get in no
trouble!

MARY MARGARET

I'll tell you.

DANIEL

No, Mary Margaret!

UMANSKI

[_Who has come through the crowd unobserved; claps his hand on_
JOE'S _shoulder, forcing him to his knees_]: I tell you!

JOE

Umanski!

UMANSKI

I tell you, Hennig! Mr. Gilchrist been friend to everybody! And now,
when _he_ need friend, nobody knows nothing! Well, _I_ know! I know
anybody hurt him gotta lick me!

DANIEL

No ... please ... Umanski!

JOE

Lickin' people ain't gonna hide facks!

UMANSKI

[_Threatening with his free fist_]: Shall I?

DANIEL

No ... no!

     [UMANSKI _sets_ JOE _on his feet_. JOE _turns eloquently to
     his gang_.]

JOE

I'll show you the kind of fake that's been foolin' you! He was a
preacher, an' he got kicked out of his church!

VOICES IN THE GANG

Kicked out! They got onto you, did they? Caught him with the goods!

JOE

He was a spy for the people that live on labor, and he came to the
mines, where we was on strike, and ran away with my wife!

VOICES IN THE GANG

The dirty bum! Maybe he didn't get much!

PEARL

It _wasn't_ him!

JOE

She says that 'cause she's stuck on him!

PEARL

I ain't!

JOE

Well, you're workin' for him, ain't you?

PEARL

No!

DANIEL

Your wife's working in a store uptown!

VOICES IN THE GANG

We know different! What's she doing here? That's a good one! What're
you giving us? Everybody in the neighborhood knows what she's doing!

JOE

My wife's walking the streets!

DANIEL

That's a lie!

JOE

I heard from a pal she picked up las' night ... an' I _seen_ her
comin' here!

JIMMIE

She's workin' Sixth Avenue!

MRS. MULLIGAN

I can't believe it! I can't believe it!

DANIEL

Pearl!!!... It _is_ a lie?

PEARL

Oh, no!... It's true. [_A momentary silence; the gang jeers; she turns
on them; then a momentary defiance._] Well! Well, why wouldn't it be?
I tried to live straight ... like you told me ... an' I _had_ a job
... but when the other girls got wise.... They ain't no better than I
am! [_She slowly gives way before his calm, steady gaze._] Anyway ...
I lied. I _am_ walkin' the streets. I ain't no good. I ain't fit to
live. [_She starts to sink at his feet. He raises her._]

DANIEL

Pearl!

PEARL

For Christ's sake, ain't you done with me now?

DANIEL

For Christ's sake ... no! [_And he takes her in his arms._]

JOE

It's all fake! Ain't you fellows on? He's got every rotten woman in
the neighborhood workin' for him. Your wives ain't safe! Your kids
ain't safe! Ask Jimmie Curran! He knows what's goin' on here! [_Enter_
TONY MALDUCA.] Ask Tony Malduca!

A VOICE

Here's Tony!

TONY

Why you send for me? What do you want?

JOE

We want to know what happened to your kid! Did he bring her in here
... an' keep her ... against her will? Did he?

TONY

That's what he done!

VOICES IN THE GANG

You remember Teresa Malduca? You see! Sure; everybody knows that! She
was here a week!

UMANSKI

You damned wop!

DANIEL

Umanski!

VOICES IN THE GANG

There ain't no woman safe! He's a damned fake! Beat him up! Kill him!

JOE

That's it! Don't let this big guy buffalo you! Come on! Drive him
out! [_To_ DANIEL] I said I'd get you, an' I have! [_The gang presses
closer, but_ UMANSKI'S _menacing bulk still holds them off_.]

MARY MARGARET

[_Kneeling on the platform L._]: Oh, dear God, please listen! [_And
she begins the Lord's Prayer._]

PEARL

Get the police!

MISS LEVINSON

[_Crying out of the window L._]: Police! Police!

JIMMIE

[_To_ UMANSKI]: Get out of the way ... you!

A VOICE

Bust him in the jaw!

GOODKIND

[_Forcing his way through_]: Listen to me! No violence! You're dealing
with a lunatic! Leave him alone! I've got a doctor coming in a few
minutes! Leave him to me, and I give you my word I'll have this place
closed tonight!

VOICES IN THE GANG

Yes, and he'll open another one! Sure he will! Of course he will!
Ah-h-h! Beat him up!

GOODKIND

Leave him alone! You can't beat a crazy man!

PEARL

Mr. Gilchrist ain't crazy! He ain't a man! Ain't you seen what he just
done to me?

A WOMAN

Hire a hall! [_All laugh._]

PEARL

Ain't you heard? I lied to him, an' he's give me another chance, an'
_I'm gonna take it_! He ain't no man! He's a Saint! I tell you he's
like God!

A VOICE

Where's his wings? [_All laugh._]

JOE

Like God!

JIMMIE

That's blasphemy!

JOE

That's what it is, an' that's what he's been tellin' 'em! Ain't it ...
you ... Grubby? Didn't he tell you that, Jimmie? Didn't he tell you he
was a Son of God?

VOICES IN THE GANG

Sure he did! That's right!

JOE

You see, that's what he's told 'em all! That's how he gets 'em! [_To_
DANIEL]: Didn't you tell 'em you was a Son of God? [_There
is a momentary silence, broken only by_ MARY MARGARET'S
_prayer_.]

DANIEL

I am!

VOICES IN THE GANG

He admits it! And I'm Mary Magdalene! Pipe Mary Magdalene! Son of God!

DANIEL

And so are we all! [_Jeers_] In you ... and me ... and all of
us ... deep down ... is something of Him! We may try to hide
it--[_Jeers_]--or kill it, but, in spite of ourselves, we _are_ Divine!

VOICES IN THE GANG

Chuck it! Hell! Cut the gab! He's crazy! Come on; smash the place!

TONY

[_Facing_ DANIEL]: If you're a Son of God ... save yourself!
If you're ... what you say ... give us a sign!

JOE

Ah, hell! Come on!

     [_Two men have climbed upon the table, and suddenly seize_
     UMANSKI _from behind. Momentarily, they bear him down,
     and this obstacle is removed. As they drag him up R., the
     rest of the gang closes in from all sides, hiding Daniel,
     who is forced up stage C. The table is overturned. Above
     the struggling mass are seen fists striking down, various
     improvised weapons in action. A Dockman, who, at_ JOE'S
     _speech, has lifted the bench from behind_ DANIEL, _to
     fell him with it, and whose weapon has been seized, from
     the rear, by the_ HENCHLEYS, _pommels madly. Above the
     pandemonium are distinguished voices_--PEARL: "_Help!_"
     UMANSKI: "_I kill somebody!_" MISS LEVINSON: "_Police!_"
     GOODKIND: "_Let him alone!_" _Suddenly_ UMANSKI _throws off
     his captors, and, attacking the mob from in front, mows his
     way through, tossing them to left and right. When a way is
     cleared, he ... and we ... see_ DANIEL, _senseless, lying
     in the overturned table, a tiny trickle of blood running
     down his face, his head supported by the table-leg R._
     UMANSKI _gives a deep groan of rage and pity. Hearing this
     and divining that something dreadful has happened to her
     hero_, MARY MARGARET, _who has ceased praying, and raised
     herself to her feet by the aid of a neighboring chair,
     walks down to L. C. Before she sees_ DANIEL, MISS LEVINSON
     _sees_ her, _and emits a piercing scream_.]

MISS LEVINSON

Mary Margaret! Where are your crutches?

MARY MARGARET

[_Looking at her legs in tearful bewilderment_] I don't know! [_She
tries them; then, in an hysterical cry_]: I kin walk! I kin walk!
[_She looks for her benefactor ... to show him._] Mr. Gilchrist! Mr.
Gilchrist! [_The crowd parts, and she sees the figure lying against
the overturned table._] Oh, Mr. Gilchrist! [_She folds him in her
arms._]

UMANSKI

[_Staring at_ MARY MARGARET, _and in a tone of hushed awe_]:
You wanted a sign--LOOK! Down on your knees--you murderers! God's in
this room! Down on your knees!

     [_One by one and two by two, the frightened mob obeys._
     JOE _is lying senseless, but his cohorts, crossing
     themselves, have seen a miracle_.]

THE CURTAIN FALLS




_ACT IV._


SCENE: _Gilchrist's Room--"Upstairs." Two months later._

_The room is cheerful. That is its chief aspect. Cheerful, and
comfortable, and homelike. Such a room ... in the rear of the fourth
story ... might be had anywhere for seven dollars a week, and its
contents duplicated for a couple of hundred, yet no one should be
able to look in without envying the occupant. Before the warm glow
of a fireplace down R. is a big, brown leather-covered armchair. An
electric lamp stands on a table stage left of the chair and squarely
opposite the fireplace. There are books on the table, too, and writing
things, and another chair on its left. Above the grate a picture of
Christ in the Temple. Conspicuous in the flat, and visible from all
parts of the house, a big studio window. There are cream-colored
outside curtains, and brown denim inside curtains, drawn now, but when
they are pulled aside, one sees chimney-pots, and roof-tops, and a
blue night-sky, with one particularly bright star. Up L., a curtained
arch into a hall bedroom, and down L. a door. The walls, covered
with old-gold grass-cloth, are hidden, to a height of six feet, by
roughly-built bookcases, filled with much-used books. A sofa, against
the wall L., now holds numerous packages. There is a brown-and-tan
grass rug on the floor, and there may be a window seat, with brown
cushions, beneath the window. The furniture is all old ... probably
second-hand ... but, as aforesaid, the room suggests comfort and
peace._

AT RISE: _It is just after eight o'clock, Christmas Eve,
1920._ DANIEL _is discovered, dreaming, in the armchair R.,
a pipe in his mouth and his face to the fire. He has not lighted the
desk lamp, and, except for the glow of the embers, the room is in
darkness. Hanging over the left arm of the chair_, DANIEL'S
_hand holds a magazine, but he has not begun reading. After a pause
long enough for the audience to take in his surroundings, there is a
light tap at the door and, without waiting for a response_, MARY
MARGARET _enters. She walks without crutches--quite briskly--but
plainly is on some secret business. Daniel is lost in the darkness.
A package in her hand_, MARY MARGARET _crosses quickly to
the table, and turns on one and then the other of the two lights in
the lamp. Instantly, of course, she sees the figure in the chair, and
conceals the package beneath her apron._

MARY MARGARET

Mr. Gilchrist? [_He shows himself_] Goo'ness, how you scared me! I
thought you went out!

DANIEL

No; I just slipped up here to read a while before we put our gifts on
the tree.... Where's Grubby?

MARY MARGARET

[_Contemptuously_]: Grubby!

DANIEL

He promised to help with the packages.

MARY MARGARET

Grubby's all swelled up with his new taxicab. Christmas Eve's the big
night in his business, but he says don't worry ... he'll be here in
time for the sandwiches. Am I interruptin' your readin'?

DANIEL

Oh, no! What have you there?

MARY MARGARET

Where?

DANIEL

Under your apron.

MARY MARGARET

Oh!

[_She reveals the parcel_] I was gonna surprise you. It's your
Christmas present.

DANIEL

From you?

MARY MARGARET

[_Handing it across the table_]: Yes. It ain't much ... _you_ know ...
an' I didn't want it on the tree ... before everybody. I wanted to
give it to you myself. Open it now. [_He does so. The package contains
a framed picture._]

DANIEL

Mary Margaret!

MARY MARGARET

The name's on the back! [_He turns it around, revealing to the
audience a cheap and highly-colored chromo_] See ... "Mama's Treasure."

DANIEL

It's just what I wanted.

MARY MARGARET

[_Delighted_]: Is it ... honest?... Let's put it in place of that one
over the mantel-piece! That's an awful pretty pitcher, but mine's got
colors in it!

DANIEL

Why not in place of the Venus who fell on her nose?

MARY MARGARET

Oh, yes! [_She stands "Mama's Treasure" atop a bookcase L._] It looks
good, don't it?

DANIEL

Beautiful. I can't thank you enough. [_Takes her hand_] I can't really.

MARY MARGARET

_You_ can't thank _me_! You that's give me--[_She looks down at her
legs, and up again with eyes full of tears_] Oh, Mr. Gilchrist!

DANIEL

Now! Now! Now! We mustn't cry on Christmas!

MARY MARGARET

What're you going to do if you're happy?

DANIEL

Try laughing. [_She does_] Anyway, if I'm having my Christmas now, you
must have yours. Suppose you rummage on the sofa.

MARY MARGARET

Oh! [_She runs to obey, and holds up a parcel inquiringly._]

DANIEL

That's a book for Miss Levinson.

MARY MARGARET

[_Reads from another bundle_]: Mrs. Henchley. [_Takes up a third_]
This one ain't marked.

DANIEL

Gloves for Mack. I wanted to show I appreciated his bringing back that
coat.

MARY MARGARET

[_Reading from two packages_]: Peter ... Paul....

DANIEL

For your brothers.

MARY MARGARET

[_With a fourth_]: And ... Mary Margaret!

DANIEL

Open it now.

MARY MARGARET

     [_Breathless, she comes to him C. Hesitates, and
     then, removing the wrapping, reveals a child's set in
     beaver--muff and neckpiece_]: Oh, Mr. Gilchrist! [_She
     tries them_] Oh, Mr. Gilchrist; you oughtn't! [_Looks
     about for a mirror_] They're beautiful! They're the most
     beautifulest furs I ever seen! I've wanted a set like this
     always! You've made me so happy! I never was so happy
     before in my life! [_And she begins to cry again._]

DANIEL

Now! [_She remembers, and laughs._]

MARY MARGARET

I don't know how to thank you.

DANIEL

Don't try.

MARY MARGARET

I never expected no such a Christmas! [_Starts for door_] I gotta show
mother!

DANIEL

[_Turning R._]: Take down a few of the packages!

MARY MARGARET

I'll be back in a minute! [_She opens the door, disclosing_
GOODKIND. _Seriously alarmed_] Oh!... Mr. Gilchrist!

DANIEL

[_Turning L._]: Well ... Mr. Goodkind!

GOODKIND

May I come in?

DANIEL

Of course! [_He enters. Dan indicates chair L. of table R._] Sit down!

GOODKIND

I've only a moment. Jerry's waiting for me in the car.

DANIEL

How is Jerry? [MARY MARGARET _arranges the chair_.]

GOODKIND

[_Shakes his head despairingly. Looks at_ MARY MARGARET]: I
wish you could perform a miracle on _him_.

DANIEL

I wish I could.

GOODKIND

[_To_ MARY MARGARET]: You seem to walk all right.

MARY MARGARET

Oh, yes!

GOODKIND

[_To_ DAN]: Had a doctor look her over?

DANIEL

Three of 'em.

GOODKIND

Any opinion?

DANIEL

Three opinions.

MARY MARGARET

They said _he_ didn't do it, and you seen him!

DANIEL

[_Holds up a warning finger_]: _Ssh!_ [_Then to_ GOODKIND]
They all say she suffered from hysterical paraplegia.
[GOODKIND _puzzled_] Hysterical paralysis. One says she was
cured by shock--you know; the riot. Another says it was suggestion
... believing ... which is another way of saying faith, isn't it? The
important thing is that she's cured!

MARY MARGARET

God did it--God and Mr. Gilchrist!

DANIEL

[_Hushing her again_]: Take down an armful of those packages ... like
a good girl!

MARY MARGARET

I will. [_She gathers them up, and, returning L. C., looks
apprehensively at_ GOODKIND] You call ... if you want me!
[_Exits_]

GOODKIND

[_Hesitates. Doesn't know how to begin. Takes cigars from his
pocket_]: Smoke?

DANIEL

Thanks. [_Showing his pipe_] I'll stick to my old friend. [_He sits._]

GOODKIND

How are things with you?

DANIEL

[_Enthusiastically_]: Fine!

GOODKIND

Happy?

DANIEL

[_Radiantly_]: Yes!... And you?

GOODKIND

No. Everything's ... all wrong. My boy's very ill. Clare's wonderful
to him. I can't explain it--she's like a different woman. And _she_
seems happy. But Jerry's had to give up work, and there's more trouble
in Black River, and that's what brought me!

DANIEL

You don't want _my_ advice?

GOODKIND

I want _you_ ... as general manager. These strikes are such utter
damned waste! We had a working compromise on your agreement, and
everything was all right, but we began figuring we could make more
money ... and the men walked out, and flooded the mines. I'd like you
to take charge, Daniel.

DANIEL

I can't.

GOODKIND

Name your own salary.

DANIEL

My work is here.

GOODKIND

You can have anything you want.

DANIEL

I don't want anything.

GOODKIND

You want to see the men get their rights.

DANIEL

They'll get 'em. Nothing can stop that.

GOODKIND

You're not going to turn down fifty thousand dollars a year?

DANIEL

What can I buy with it that I haven't got?

GOODKIND

What can you buy with fifty----

DANIEL

What have _you_ bought?

GOODKIND

I've got one of the finest houses in New York!

DANIEL

Is it any more comfortable than this?

GOODKIND

This one little room!

DANIEL

How many rooms do you live in at the same time?

GOODKIND

I've got half a dozen cars!

DANIEL

I've two legs, and I walk, and keep well.

GOODKIND

I've twenty servants----

DANIEL

Don't tell me you enjoy that!

GOODKIND

And the respect of people about me----

DANIEL

So have I!

GOODKIND

And, what's most important of all, I'm a success!

DANIEL

Are you?

GOODKIND

Huh?

DANIEL

Are you? What is success? Money? Yes; that's what our civilization
tells us. Money! But where has that brought us? Only to the elevation
of the unfit ... the merely shrewd and predatory. All around us
we see men of wealth who have nothing else ... neither health nor
happiness nor love nor respect. Men who can get no joy out of books,
or pictures, or music, or even themselves. Tired, worried men who
are afraid to quit because they have no resource except to make
money--money with which to buy vulgar excitement for their own debased
souls. Why, Mr. Goodkind, I have an income that you wouldn't suggest
to your bookkeeper, but I have peace, and health, and friends, and
time to read, and think, and dream, and help. Which of us is the rich
man?

GOODKIND

But if everybody lived your way, what would become of the world's
work?

DANIEL

Living that way is my contribution to the world's work. Another man's
might be selling shoes, or writing plays, or digging ditches. Doing
his job doesn't prevent any man from doing his bit. "From every man
according to his ability, to every man according to his needs." And
every man who gives his best must find his happiness.

GOODKIND

I'm afraid there wouldn't be much progress ... living your way.

DANIEL

That's the second time you've spoken of my way. It isn't _my_ way.
It's the sum total of all that has been learned and taught. You,
and Jerry, and the others have called me eccentric, and a fool,
because I'm trying to walk a path trod hard by countless feet. Was
Christ eccentric? Was Confucius a fool? And how about Buddha and
Mohammed? What of St. Bernard, and St. Teresa, and St. Francis of
Assisi--of Plato, and Zeno, and Lincoln, and Emerson, and Florence
Nightingale, and Father Damien, and Octavia Hill, and all the saints
and scientists, and poets and philosophers, who have lived and died
in complete forgetfulness of self? Were they fools, or were they wise
men and women who had found the way to peace and happiness? Were
they failures, or were they the great successes of all Time and all
Eternity?

GOODKIND

God knows!

     [JERRY _enters ... a dying man. He drags his legs
     with difficulty, and his speech is thick, but he is still
     cynical and defiant._]

JERRY

Well, you've been the devil of a time! I came up to see what was
keeping you!

GOODKIND

[_Rising_]: Mr. Gilchrist.

JERRY

Hello, Gilchrist!

DANIEL

[_Crossing to C._]: How are you, Jerry?

JERRY

Not so damned well! But I'll be all right in the Spring! Clare's
looking after me. Clare's a good sport. What I need now's a run down
to Palm Beach! [_Looks around_] So you're reduced to this, are you?

DANIEL

Yes.

JERRY

Going to take my job?

DANIEL

No.

JERRY

Why not?

DANIEL

Your father understands.

JERRY

Yes ... so do I! Didn't I always say you were a nut? That's it; a nut!
[_He laughs with a laugh that begins to get the better of him._]

GOODKIND

[_Crossing rapidly to the door_]: Come, Jerry!

     [_A light rap_; GOODKIND _opens. Enter_ MARY MARGARET. _She
     glances at him and crosses to upper L. C._ JERRY _looks at
     her, and turns back to_ DAN.]

JERRY

Who's the girl?

DANIEL

Your father's waiting.

JERRY

A' right!... [_Crosses L._] Some failure _you've_ made out of life!
[_Turns back and leers at_ MARY MARGARET. _In the doorway,
looks at_ DAN.] Wheels ... by God! Wheels! [_He laughs, and
exits._]

GOODKIND

[_Goes to_ DAN _and takes his hand_]: I wonder if _you're_
the failure, after all. [_Returns to the door._] Good-night! [_He
exits._]

     [DAN _takes his pipe from his pocket and puts it
     in his mouth. Some chimes, in the distance, begin the
     anthem "Hark the Herald Angels Sing."_ DANIEL
     _goes up, draws back the curtains, and throws open the
     window_. MARY MARGARET, _feeling the fresh
     air, draws her furs about her, happily. She turns up._
     DANIEL _is standing with his left arm akimbo_.
     MARY MARGARET _slips her head through it, and
     nestles to him. They ... and we ... see the chimney pots,
     and the blue night sky, and one bright star._]

MARY MARGARET

Mr. Gilchrist! Is that the Star of Bethlehem?

DANIEL

I wonder. [_The chimes swell out, and_

THE CURTAIN FALLS


       *       *       *       *       *


Transcriber's Notes

Pages 73, 150: Original book used multi-line braces to indicate
[_Together_] lines.