(N.B.If the lamp has the classical figure suggested, this will now be removed while the stage is dark and a proportionately larger one substituted in which an actor takes the place of the small figure. The lamp-shade will now be approximately four feet in diameter. If the figure does not form a part of the lamp ornamentation in the first instance it will remain simply as a lamp, and the actor takes up a position aboutC.while stage is dark, and the lights growing bring him slowly into view. A good effect is obtained by blacking out all the stage except the small partR.showingHoraceasleep in his chair, with the firelight playing upon him. A gentle roll of thunder should announce the arrival of theMessenger. The following isHorace’sdream.)
(N.B.If the lamp has the classical figure suggested, this will now be removed while the stage is dark and a proportionately larger one substituted in which an actor takes the place of the small figure. The lamp-shade will now be approximately four feet in diameter. If the figure does not form a part of the lamp ornamentation in the first instance it will remain simply as a lamp, and the actor takes up a position aboutC.while stage is dark, and the lights growing bring him slowly into view. A good effect is obtained by blacking out all the stage except the small partR.showingHoraceasleep in his chair, with the firelight playing upon him. A gentle roll of thunder should announce the arrival of theMessenger. The following isHorace’sdream.)
Messenger.Man! Man of Earth! Give heed for the good of your kind.
Horace.Hullo. Who are you? (Drowsily.)
Messenger.I am a Messenger from Mars.
Horace.Don’t believe a word of it.
Messenger.I am a Messenger from Mars. (Sternly.)
Horace.Are you really? Won’t you sit down?
Messenger.No.
Horace.Have a drink, then?
Messenger.Worm!
Horace.Meaning me? I note that politeness is at a discount in Mars.
Messenger.We are not upon that planet now.
Horace.I thank my stars.
Messenger.Know you why I am here?
Horace.No more than why the other tramp bothered me. You have come rather farther—you may stay a little longer. From the venturesome spirit that prompted this visit I conclude you are of the greatest of your race.
Messenger.I am the poorest gifted, most unhappy, lowest fallen, and easiest spared. I am a criminal, and therefore condemned to make this journey.
Horace.What had you been up to? Do tell.
Messenger.I sinned in vanity. A dear companion and myself had composed a hymn of praise. He died, and I gave it forth as entirely my own.
Horace.(Gleefully) Did you make much out of it?
Messenger.It was chanted by many.
Horace.Then it paid pretty well?
Messenger.In Mars we do not write for gain. For five days I endured the bitterest remorse when I confessed my crime, and was sentenced to make this journey.
Horace.Doubtless you have learnt that I am interested in your world and quite rightly expected a sympathetic welcome from me?
Messenger.No. But of all countries yours seemed the most promising field——
Horace.Bravo! Rule, Britannia!
Messenger.Of all cities, this London, the greatest, and most intense——
Horace.Good old London!
Messenger.And of all its citizens yourself the most striking example—(Horacebows)—of the Greed and Egoism of the age.
Horace.(Staggering to his feet and about to rush atMessenger) Hullo! I’ll not stand for this! Get out of my——
(Messengerraises his arm andHoracereceivesan electric shock which reels him back into his chair. The furniture may be arranged to shake and rock about as if under the same influence.Messengerrefrains andHoraceslowly recovers himself.)
Messenger.Are you properly impressed, or shall I——?
Horace.No, no! Don’t do it again, please! It hurts!
Messenger.Good! Now listen with heart and mind. You have learnt that Mars has a planetary lifetime brief compared with Earth, and yet we Martians are to you as are you to the cattle that you breed.
Horace.As bad as that?
Messenger.Triflers of Time, learn the cause. Self—Selfis the Miasm of the world you live in; a soul plague blotching Earth’s body over with its petty spites, outraged homes, labor riots, revolutions, civil wars, carnivals of blood, marring the Grand Purpose. No war has ever wasted Mars, nor could it. There have been no rushings back, no buried epochs, no sleeping centuries, for Self was unmasked at the beginning.
Horace.Mask? What mask?
Messenger.Self wears a thousand, making a counterfeit of every virtue. The soldier’s glory, the painter’s touch, the statesman’s aim, the poet’s dream hide something still of self behind them. Even your children are becoming egoists—the saddest sign of all.
Horace.Very sad and quite true, but why tell me all this?
Messenger.You are the chosen subject.
Horace.But why?
Messenger.Considering your opportunities, you are the basest, the most selfish of men.
Horace.My opportunities?
Messenger.In your house is one whose impulses are fully half unselfish, the maid Minnie. You couldn’t spare one evening to make her happy.
Horace.She took such a narrow view.
Messenger.Shame on you! Shame! Then there is your aunt——
Horace.Oh, she is awfully narrow, too.
Messenger.Silence!
Horace.If you’d lived in the house as long as I have with Aunt——
Messenger.Silence! Too lazy to call a cab.
Horace.You don’t make any allowance.
Messenger.You deserve none. Again, there was that poor unfortunate who in a weak moment confided to you his life’s tragedy.
Horace.You can’t make me responsible for that dirty tramp’s condition.
Messenger.You might have saved him. You would have been blessed a thousandfold if you had.
Horace.How do you mean?
Messenger.In what a hideous Pretence you live. There, before you, stood a man of genius. You drove him out to die. An Inventor perishing in the hey-day of Invention-Worship.
Horace.Do you really think that fellow’s ideas are good for anything?
Messenger.You a man of science! You know nothing at all. There is more in his little finger than your whole body.
Horace.Look here. If you’ll guarantee him—and with your inside knowledge of things generally—I might hunt him up to-morrow and set him going.
Messenger.You will?
Horace.Yes. Of course, you do guarantee him?
Messenger.For whose benefit would you do this?
Horace.I should expect to come in, of course—
Messenger.Hypocrite! Beyond belief hypocrite! You train your dogs with hunger and a whip. It seems I must try that system upon you. Get up!
Horace.What are you going to do now?
Messenger.You must come with me.
Horace.Not out into the snow?
Messenger.Yes, into the snow and the night.
Horace.Do let me explain. The fact is I am in rather a delicate state of health, and if I were to venture out on a night like this, the consequences might be most serious.
Messenger.You are wasting your breath. Come.
Horace.You can’t really mean it?
Messenger.I do.
Horace.You will let me put on my coat and hat?
Messenger.Put them on. We may find them useful. Hurry!
Horace.(Putting on his coat and muffler slowly) You don’t give me time.
Messenger.Make haste, I say.
Horace.I’m not starting out with any comfort at all. I really don’t think I should be wise to venture out to-night. It is so very sharp outside.
Messenger.Do you hear me? Come!
Horace.No. I’m damned if I do! (Messengerraises his arm, and againHoraceis electrified and the furniture thrown into a commotion.Horacesinks to his knees in front ofMessengerin terror.) I’ll come! I’ll come!
Messenger.On to your schooling! (MessengerleadingHoraceaway.)
CURTAIN