(Feeling his arm and looking at him.) H’m. Well. Now lads. On this paper are the following questions addressed specially to you as you are between nineteen and forty-five. Question A. Have you volunteered for military service beyond New Zealand as a member of an Expeditionary Force in connection with the present war? If so, have you been accepted for service or rejected?
All Three.
No. No, Boss. No.
Re. Off.
Well, Question B. If you havenotvolunteered for service, are you, being a single man without dependants, willing to become a member of an Expeditionary Force? or (2) Are you—? By the way, let’s settle that first. Are you all single men?
All Three.
Yes. Yes. Yes, sir.
Re. Off.
Then I needn’t read the alternative questions. Are you willing to become members of an Expeditionary Force?
All Three.
Yes.
Re. Off.
That’s right, lads. Now I’ll be honest with you, and tell you that all the law asks of you is to sign copies of this paper and send them in—you will get them officially in a few days maybe—but that’s not whatI’mhere for, to get from you a mere scrap of paper with a promise for the future on it. I’m here to get you yourselves, lads, now. That’s better fitted to a Briton than to write his name on a bit of paper, and to go back to his ordinary job! He that puts his hand to the plough and turns back—you know what it says in the Bible. You lads, and I, have got acquainted this afternoon, and I know you’re notthatkind.
All Three.
No! We are not! We’ll come now, right now!
Robert.
(Taking a step forward.) I’ll come at once. That’s square. (Looking atLovedayand smiling.) Can you fit me out in khaki right now, Officer?
Re. Off.
The doctor’ll have to examine you (indicating one of the men with him) and you’ll have to take the oath.
Robert.
Yes, yes. Surely you have an extra uniform handy!
Re. Off.
(Smiling.) It’s very irregular, sir. We’ll see later, step aside.
Gordon.
Now me.
Re. Off.
(Examines him more carefully. Speaking kindly.) Step across to me, sir.
(Gordontries to conceal his limp as much as possible, but of course fails.)
Re. Off.
(Shaking his head.) No good, sir. Why, you’re lame!
Gordon.
Hardly at all. And I’m strong! I’ve never been ill. I can ride day and night in the saddle. I’d join the mounted rifles!
Re. Off.
Not a bit of good, sir.
Gordon.
(Unbelieving.) I’m the right age. I’m strong. I can ride like a cow-boy. I can shoot better than my brother.
Robert.
That’s so.
Re. Off.
Your bit is not at the front.
Loveday.
Oh, officer. Is it impossible? It is such atriflinglimp.
(Gordonlooks acutely distressed but smiles bravely and very gratefully atLoveday.)
Re. Off.
Not a bit more good than ifyouwas to ask, Missy.
Gordon.
(Half stammering in his eagerness.) You must take me,somehowor other. You must. I can shoot. I never miss my aim! What is the good of coming here and rousing us all up with your talk of soldiering if you won’t take the best shot in the place?
Re. Off.
(Kindly.) You’ll do no fighting, sir.
Gordon.
(Overcome.) Curse the tree that staked me! Curse the fools that didn’t heal me square!
(There is an awkward silence. He flings up toNora, who is a little apart from the rest, his eyes blazing.)
Gordon.
Nora, what do you say? Aren’t I fit to go?
Nora.
(Calmly.) Of course not, Gordon. I can’t think how you could haveexpected—
Gordon.
(Wildly.) Now I see why you never loved me! You’ve teased me often enough. I’ve made love like a man, but to you, toyouI was never a man! I see it now. You all think me useless. You don’t look on me as aman!
(A tense pause,LovedayandRobertlook rather awkwardly distressed.)
Nora.
(Somewhat cowed.) Don’t be silly.
Robert.
I say, old chap, don’t take it so hard.
Gordon.
Wouldn’t you take it hard if both your country and the woman you love told you plainly you were mere useless rubbish?
Loveday.
(Pitifully.) Perhaps you will find a still greater thing to do for your country. It is notonlyfighters she needs.
Gordon.
(His lips quivering.) You are kind. But, oh God!—
(He goes toward shelter away from theOTHERSand aimlessly unfolds the blankets, folds them up again, and re-arranges the pile; opens them out and re-folds them, and so on.
Meanwhile, theRecruiting Officerhas quietly asked questions of the2nd Shepherd, whose answers are satisfactory.
Lovedaylooks from one to the other, then sits brooding, glancing pitifully atGordonfrom time to time.
While this is going on, theRecruiting OfficertakesRobertand the2nd Shepherdout, followed by the men with him, leavingNora,1st Shepherd,RotoandVarliein a group.Lovedaya little apart.)
Roto.
(Grumbling, to1st Shepherd.) You have a black heart, you Pakeha tutua.
1st Shep.
Trying to lie about your age? You are older than I am.
Roto.
Why not lie about your age, too?
1st Shep.
What would become of the sheep if I went off? Are the sheep to die on the hills because the Germans are scurvy dogs? And the best lot of sheep we have had, too, since I’ve been on the station!
Nora.
When will you black fellows learn not to tell lies? What is the good of telling lies any way, when you are always found out?
Roto.
I wouldn’t have been if he hadn’t wagged his tongue! And to tell a bit of a lie so to give your life, that’s no lie.
Varlie.
Ah, Miss Nora, don’t try to stamp out necessary lying. The world would be in a queer way if none of us told lies once in a way. I’ll wager you this patent button hook you tell lies yourself now and then. Little ones!
Nora.
(Smiling.) Oh, well—when I say I’m glad to see you, for instance, that’s not a lie. It doesn’t take you in!
Varlie.
Freeze on to the button hook, Miss Nora. I’ve won my wager. It is only sixpence.
Nora.
(Tosses it back to him.) What are you dreaming about, Loveday?
Loveday.
Before ever I met you all—for months past—I have been thinking about Gordon’s problem. What is one who cannot fight to do for our country?
Nora.
Save, as you said yourself.
Loveday.
It isn’t only fighting and saving the nation’s needs. It needsthinking. Wouldn’t it be splendid to see a man’s strength and his brains put into thinking that might save thousands of lives in the time to come.
Varlie.
People who talk about thinking are generally fools. The wise man thinks his hardest how to conceal what he is thinking.
Loveday.
(Swiftly and scornfully.) That’s a worldly man, whose thoughts are grasping. I was dreaming of a man whose thoughts would begifts.
Varlie.
Thoughts are pretty cheap gifts.
Loveday.
Is there anything we possess that did not grow from a thought? Isn’t the freedom in your country the result of the thought of the men who framed your Constitution? Isn’t all law, all order, all happiness, thought, or the results of it?
Varlie.
Huh! That’s too deep for me.
Nora.
(Reproving.) You are such a dreamer, Loveday. It’s so woolly to dream, stop it.
Loveday.
My dreams are beginning to clear. If no one had ever thought, we would be savages still. All human beings would be tearing out each other’s eyes, always.
Varlie.
Yep. But talking aboutmythoughts is not my job. (Yawning.) I must be getting along. When are those fellows going to start?
(Sounds of cheering and laughter and trampling without.Robertcomes swaggering on in a Khaki uniform with hat jauntily tilted. He is followed by the2nd Shepherdwith Badge and Armlet.Recruiting Officerand hisMENfollow, grinning. The group round the fire start up. All crowd roundRobertshouting, admiring and patting him on the back.Robertgoes up toLovedayand salutes her, she smiles at him cheerily.)
Loveday.
Bravo! How fine you look!
(She looks past him however, to whereGordonis wistfully watching the group, and mastering himself to come forward. She smiles very sweetly and encouragingly atGordon. The sky slowly takes on sunset tints.)
Nora.
(ToRobert.) Give me one of your buttons. I’ll wear it.
Robert.
(Putting her off, with forced gaiety.) With the officer looking? Shame on you!
Nora.
(ToRecruiting Officer.) A man who’s enlisted is allowed to give awayonebutton, isn’t he?
Re. Off.
(Smiling.) One—only one—to the girl he loves.
Nora.
(Invitingly.) Now, Robert, you hear!
(Gordonoverhears this and waits eagerly forRobert’sanswer.)
Robert.
(Laughs and comically struts.) Don’t shear my feathers off me yet!
Nora.
(ToVarlie.) Menarevain.
Varlie.
Take one ofmybuttons! (Holds out his coat.)
Nora.
(Eyes flashing.) When you’re in khaki!
Gordon.
(Pulling himself together, holds out his hand toRobert, speaks huskily.) Good luck, old chap, the best of luck!
(Lovedaylooks proudly atGordon.)
Robert.
(ClapsGordon’sshoulder with his free hand.) Keep the station going till I come back, sonny.
Gordon.
I will, Robert.
Robert.
IfI come back!
Nora.
(Excitedly.) Of course you will. You’ll come back with a V.C., won’t he, lads?
All.
Of course. He’s just the make of a hero. Hurrah! Bravo!
(Allcrowd round him shouting and singing snatches of “Rule Britannia, God Save the King,” etc.
The sunset is crimson by now.)
Robert.
Look at the sky! Come, we must be getting back.
(Allfollow him, marching, waving branches, etc., singing, “See the Conquering hero comes.” The rest troop off, butRobertturns and goes up toLovedaywho is lingering and keeps her apart.)
Robert.
Wait a minute, won’t you?
Loveday.
Yes? Of course, what is it?
Robert.
(Shyly.) I say, I—won’t you—(he takes out his jack knife and cuts off a button, offering it to her) I say, won’t you, won’t you wear it, just to bring me luck?
Loveday.
(Hesitates.) Oh—I—
Robert.
Of course I don’t mean—to—to bother you in any way. I mean it only in—in friendship! Just to bring me luck. Do! There’s nothing in it—nothing silly—like whattheysaid.
Loveday.
(Smiling, very charmingly.) Shall I sew it on again for you?
Robert.
Oh! If youwon’thave it—you may sew it on if I may keep my coat on while you are doing it!
Loveday.
Very well. Heroes have to be humoured, I suppose. Come along, it’s getting late!
(Theyfollow the others, as she is going off she looks back and sends a compassionate glance towardsGordon.
The sky rapidly darkens.Gordonstays behind, waits till they are all out of sight, then he throws himself face down on the ground, clenching his hands and moving as though in pain. The bell bird’s clear sweet note is heard. He lies in silence then groans aloud.)
Gordon.
To both my country and the woman I love, I’m not a man. I’m lumber—useless lumber! Nora! Nora!
(Gordoncrouches in despair. The stage is now dusky, a pale moon shows. Softly, without any noise, between the trunks of two tall trees appears behind him the upper part of a white figure, with the forehead and head half covered by a floating white veil; the face is tender and grave, the eyes glowing as if inspired. In the shadowy light the figure looks like a vision.Gordondoes not recognise that it isLoveday. He slowly, as if mesmerised, rises on to his knees. There is a sweet low call of the bell bird far away. Stillness for a moment.Lovedaystands silent between the trees.)
Gordon.
(Still half kneeling, speaking in awed tones.) You are a spirit?
(Lovedayis quite still.)
Gordon.
You are the goddess of the woods come to me in my pain! Tell me, you beautiful, you wonderful—tell me, what have I to do? Speak to me, speak to me!
(Lovedaydoes not move; in a soft, penetrating voice, she intones, like a chant.)
Loveday.
The bodies of men that can fight are mown down like the grass.
The body of one young man, even if he is a prince among men cannot slay more than a hundred of his enemies.
But by thought a man’s brain might conceive of a way to kill or to save hundreds of thousands.
Now is the time for a Briton to arise who can slay with his great thought all the enemies of the future.
Now is the time for one to bring forth a noble plan, so that all the treacherous aggressors shall be for ever disarmed and the peaceful nations be for ever free from fear of onslaught.
(She draws the veil across her face, takes a step back into the dusk and vanishes.)
Gordon.
(Exalted and trembling with eagerness.) Angel! Goddess! Tell me—how—
(She does not return and makes no sound.)
Slowly theCurtaindescends.
Three or Four months later than Act I.
The Hyde’s Homestead, S. Island, New Zealand. Left back, one end of the low homestead with its broad, creeper-covered verandah abuts on to the garden. A rough piece of road runs across right back of stage. Back cloth painted with luxurious vegetation and vivid blue sky. Mixture of common English fruit trees and Eucalyptus, the lily-palm, masses of crimson ratas in flower.
Gordon HydeandLoveday discoveredsitting together in garden, down right.Gordonhas a sheaf of papers and writing pad on his knee, pen in hand.Lovedayis chewing the end of a flower stalk as though thinking.
Gordon.
(Laying down papers and looking atLovedaywith friendship and admiration in his eyes, but not love.) Itisgood of you coming over so often to help me. I don’t know what I should have done without you. The others try to slay with laughter all my young ideas. Iamindebted to you!
Loveday.
No, no! It has been simply splendid for me to see you work out these great ideas. It has been wonderful to watch the little germ of your conception grow and grow and take practical shape in your wonderful brain!
Gordon.
Oh, it is not mine. None of all this (indicating papers on his knee) is mine. All my ideas before that day had been vague and muddled. Now I am only writing down the ideas that vision, that goddess gave me.
Loveday.
The practical ideasareyours.
Gordon.
No.
Loveday.
Yes. Indeed they are, I’ve watched you shaping them.
Gordon.
No. The germ of everything was in that beautiful message she gave me.
Loveday.
(Looking at him as though acquiescing tenderly to humour him. He does not see the look.) Who was it do you think?
Gordon.
A spirit.
Loveday.
(Triumphantly.) Thereareno spirits you know—no spirits that talk to living people. The ideas are your own, your veryown—
Gordon.
Perhaps the Maoris are right. Thiswasa spirit. Itcouldn’thave been imagination! I heard her speak quite clearly. Her wonderful voice was like music, thrilling and deep like the songs of birds in a cool, deep glade.
Loveday.
But you were overwrought. Imagination plays tricks then.
Gordon.
Yes, I was overwrought. That recruiting business had amazingly stirred me. But what she said was so remote from my misery that Icouldnot have imagined anything so vital, so full of hope. I felt shamed, anguished. I felt my manhood beaten in the dust, by my country, by the woman I loved.
Loveday.
(Murmurs.) No, no.
Gordon.
Do you know what love is? Have you ever loved? If not, you could never understand my shame.
Loveday.
I have neverloved—
(His face is averted, she looks at him long and tenderly.)
until—
Gordon.
Ah, but you—beautiful and radiant as you are will never know what it is to have lovespurned—as I have.
Loveday.
I’m not—so—sure!
Gordon.
(Eagerly.) Are you not sure that my love is spurned? Do you think Nora, after all, may love me?
Loveday.
That’s—that’s not quite what I meant. But—when—when once Nora sees how the great world honours you for these ideas (taps papers on his knee) she will love you, she must. All women will love you and bless you—for you will be the saviour of their sons!
Gordon.
But Nora is so living—so—feminine. I don’t think dreamy things likeideasappeal to her. Oh, how well I remember her as a girl with her golden hair flying! We three were brought up together, she and Robert and I. She never cared about reading, but always played some real game.
Loveday.
As she gets older she will see that ideas are real. Perhaps, andthen—
Gordon.
Wish that for me!
Loveday.
Are you sure you wish it for yourself?
Gordon.
Sure! Wish it for me! There is something wonderful about you. Your wishes would bring me luck.
Loveday.
I wish you every, every happiness.
Gordon.
That’s vague. Say, “I wish that Nora may love you and make you happy.”
Loveday.
I wish that if Nora loves you she may make you happy.
Gordon.
Ah,if(suddenly looking at her). What’s the matter with you? Your voice sounds tired. Are you tired?
Loveday.
Yes. That’s it. I am a little tired.
Gordon.
We’ll stop the work.
Loveday.
No, no. See. I’ll come here in the shade. (She moves where he can’t see her face.) Now read over some of what you have written, and I’ll listen critically.
Gordon.
(Looks at her for a moment, then reads.) “The nations shall unite and have a super-parliament to which they shall all send a small number of representatives. This super-parliament shall make International laws, but it shall chiefly exist to prevent any nation flying at another’s throat. If necessary, by force.” (In another tone.) Flying at another’s throat, doesn’t seem formal enough, does it?
Loveday.
Perhaps not. Mark it. Go on.
Gordon.
“In order to prevent any murderously-minded nation flying at another’s throat (in different tone) as Germany did at Belgium.Thatexample will never be forgotten.”
Loveday.
Never. But go on.
Gordon.
“In order to prevent for ever,” I’ll add for ever, shall I?
Loveday.
Yes.
Gordon.
“In order for ever to prevent any murderously-minded nation flying at another’s throat, or stealing any of the rights, or breaking any international law, the super-parliament shall have behind it the whole of the armaments of the world.” That’s good, isn’t it?That’sthe point.
Loveday.
Splendid! That’s where your scheme differs from all the dear crack-brained pacificists. Have you written out the clauses by which that is secured?
Gordon.
Yes. (Shuffles the papers.) “The super-parliament is to have complete control of all the armies and all the armament factories in the whole world. Any individual or group of individuals violatingthat monopoly and attempting private manufacture of armaments shall be subject to instant death.”
Loveday.
Good!
Gordon.
You are bloodthirsty!
Loveday.
I am only cruel to villains to be kind to the virtuous. But I’m afraid a really sneak-dog nation, like—well, likesomewe could mention, would have made armaments secretly and piled them up.
Gordon.
No, no, because—(shuffles the papers.) Where is it? There is to be a clause preventing any such hanky-panky.
Loveday.
There is no doubt, that if that is managed properly, however greedy or treacherous any individual nation might be, it simply wouldn’tdareto go to war.
Gordon.
That’s the idea.
Loveday.
And that is a much more practical idea than that of the pacificists who talk aboutvoluntarylimitation of armaments.
Gordon.
They idealise human nature.
Loveday.
Nowyourplancompelsdecent behaviour.
Gordon.
Don’tcall it mine. It is all the gift of my fairy genius of the woods.
Loveday.
(Smiling as though tenderly humouring him.) Have you seen her again—your spirit in the woods?
Gordon.
No, only that once.
Loveday.
Well, what you told me of her words then was just the vague dream of an idea, but look at all these sheets and sheets of carefully worked out clauses. All these actual, practical, useful ideas areyours!
Gordon.
They are not. Though I was dreaming and longing vaguely for something of the kind, I’m not big enough actually to have thought it out.
Loveday.
You are. You are big enough for anything!
Gordon.
Nora doesn’t think so.
Loveday.
(Scornfully.) Nora!
Gordon.
Why are you so keen on making me think too well of myself?
Loveday.
Not too well.
Gordon.
Why do you trouble that I should even think well of myself at all?
Loveday.
Because when a man is a man he should respect himself as one man respects another.
Gordon.
You are wonderful—women generally try to make a man feel a worm.
Loveday.
(Hastily.) What I like best about this splendid scheme ofyoursis, that even Germany willhaveto accept it when it is proposed to her, because she is all the while demanding “only her own national safety,” and pretending she has no aggressive desires, so she can’t have the face to refuse to join in—and yet when she does her militarism will be choked. Nothing could destroy all militarism more completely than this!
Gordon.
Yes. And she would give herself away so utterly if she stood out!
Loveday.
And if shedidstand out, she’d—
(Nora, with a basket of fruit on her arm, enters from road.)
Nora.
(Laughing.) Halloo, you two? At it again? Settling the affairs of the world inthisremote spot!
Gordon.
Why not? Every spot is remote from somewhere else.