[He tucks book away in back coat pocket over-hastily.
[He tucks book away in back coat pocket over-hastily.
NELI. Hugh!
HUGH. [Weakly.] Nay, Ihaveno plans whatever!
NELI. [Reproachfully.] Hugh—ie! 'Twould be the end of sellin' anythin' to anybody if I leave ye with a book whatever! Give me that book!
HUGH. [Obstinately.] Nay, I'll no read the book.
NELI. Give me that book!
HUGH. [Rising a little.] Nay. I say a man is his own master whatever!
NELI. [Finding the book hidden in his coat-tail pocket.] Is he? Well, I'll no leave ye with any masterful temptations to be readin'.
HUGH. Ye've no cause to take this book away from me.
NELI. [Opens book and starts with delight.] 'Tis Deacon Roberts's new book on "The Flamin' Wickedness of Babylon." Where did ye get it?
HUGH. [Reassured by her interest.] He lent it to me this morning.
NELI. [Resolutely.] Well, I will take it away from ye this noon till I am home again whatever!
HUGH. [Sulkily.] Sellin' groceries is not salvation. They sold groceries in Babylon; Deacon Roberts says so.
NELI. [Looking at book with ill-disguised eagerness.] I dunno as anybody ever found salvation by givin' away all he had for nothin'! 'Tis certain Deacon Roberts has not followed that way.
HUGH. [Still sulkily.] A man is his own master, I say.
NELI. [Absent-mindedly, her nose in the book.] Is he? Well, indeed!
HUGH. [Crossly.] Aye, he is. [Pointedly.] An' I was not plannin' to give away the book whatever.
NELI. [Closing volume with a little sigh, as for stolen delights, and speaking hastily.] An' I am not talkin' about acceptin' books, but about butter an' eggs an' cheese an' all the other groceries!
HUGH. Aye, ye'll get no blessin' from such worldliness.
NELI. [Absent-mindedly.] Maybe not, but ye will get a dinner from that unblessed worldliness an' find no fault, I'm thinkin'. [Her hand lingering on the book, which she opens.] But such wonderful theology! An' such eloquence! Such an understandin' of sin! Such glowin' pictures of Babylon!
HUGH. Aye, hot! I tell ye, Neli, there's no man in the parish has such a gift of eloquence as Deacon Roberts or such theology. In all Wales ye'll not find stronger theology than his.
NELI. Ye have no need to tell me that! [Looking for a place in which to hide the book until she returns.] Have I not a deep an' proper admiration for theology? Have I not had one ministeran' five deacons an' a revivalist in my family, to say nothin' at all of one composer of hymns?
HUGH. Yiss, yiss. Aye, 'tis a celebrated family. I am no sayin' anythin' against your family.
NELI. Then what?
HUGH. [Pleadingly.] Deacon Roberts has great fire with which to save souls. We're needin' that book on Babylon's wickedness. Give it back to me, Neli!
NELI. Oh, aye! [Looks at husband.] I'm not sayin' but that ye are wicked, Hugh, an' needin' these essays, for ye have no ministers and deacons and hymn composers among your kin.
HUGH. [Triumphantly.] Aye, aye, that's it! That's it! An' the more need have I to read till my nostrils are full of the smoke of—of Babylon.
NELI. [Absent-mindedly tucking book away on shelf as she talks.] Aye, but there has been some smoke about Deacon Roberts's reputation which has come from some fire less far away than Babylon.
HUGH. What smoke?
NELI. [Evasively.] Well, I am thinkin' about my eggs which vanished one week ago to-day. There was no one in that mornin' but Deacon Roberts. Mrs. Jones the Wash had come for her soap an' gone before I filled that basket with eggs.
HUGH. [Watching her covertly, standing on tiptoe and craning his neck as she stows away book.] Yiss, yiss!
NELI. [Slyly.] Ask Deacon Roberts if cats steal eggs whatever?
HUGH. [Repeating.] If cats steal eggs, if cats steal eggs.
NELI. Aye, not if eggs steal cats.
HUGH. [Craning neck.] Yiss, yiss, if eggs steal cats!
NELI. Hugh—ie! Now ye'll never get it correct again! 'Tis if cats steal eggs.
HUGH. [Sulkily.] Well, I'm no carin' about cats with heaven starin' me in the face.
[Neliturns about swiftly with the quick, sudden motions characteristic of her, andHughshrinks into himself. She shakes her finger at him and goes over to kiss him.
[Neliturns about swiftly with the quick, sudden motions characteristic of her, andHughshrinks into himself. She shakes her finger at him and goes over to kiss him.
NELI. Hughie, lad, ye're not to touch the book while I am gone to market.
HUGH. Nay, nay, certainly not!
NELI. And ye're to be on the lookout for Mrs. Jones the Wash, for Mrs. Jenkins the Midwife—Jane Elin has a new baby, an' it'll be needin' somethin'. [Pointing to counter.] Here is everythin' plainly marked. Ye're no to undersell or give away anythin.' D'ye hear?
HUGH. Aye, I hear!
NELI. An' remember where the tobacco is, for this is the day Tom Morris the Sheep comes in.
HUGH. Aye, in the glass jar.
NELI. Good-by. I will return soon.
HUGH. [Indifferently.] Good-by.
[Nelileaves by door at back centre. ImmediatelyHughsteals toward the shelves where she hid the book.
[Nelileaves by door at back centre. ImmediatelyHughsteals toward the shelves where she hid the book.
NELI. [Thrusting head back in.] Mind, Hughie lad, no readin'—nay, not even any theology!
HUGH. [Stepping quickly away from shelves and repeating parrotlike.] Nay, nay, no readin', no sermons, not even any theology!
NELI. An' no salvation till I come back!
[She smiles, withdraws head, and is gone.Hughstarts forward, collides clumsily with the counter in his eagerness, knocks the basket of eggs with his elbow, upsetting it. Several eggs break. He shakes his head ruefully at the mess and as ruefully at the counter. He finds book and hugs it greedily to him.
[She smiles, withdraws head, and is gone.Hughstarts forward, collides clumsily with the counter in his eagerness, knocks the basket of eggs with his elbow, upsetting it. Several eggs break. He shakes his head ruefully at the mess and as ruefully at the counter. He finds book and hugs it greedily to him.
HUGH. [Mournfully.] Look at this! What did I say but that there was no salvation sellin' groceries! If Neli could but see those eggs! [He goes behind counter and gets out a box ofeggs, from which he refills the basket. The broken eggs he leaves untouched upon the floor. He opens his volume of sermons and seats himself by a little three-legged table near the fire. He sighs in happy anticipation. Hearing a slight noise, he looks suspiciously at door, gets up, tiptoes across floor to street door, and locks it quietly. An expression of triumph overspreads his face.] Da, if customers come, they will think no one is at home whatever, an' I can read on! [He seats himself at little three-legged table, opens volume, smooths over its pages lovingly, and begins to read slowly and halting over syllables.] The smoke of Ba-by-lon was hot—scorchin' hot. An' 'twas filled with Ba-ba-ba-baal stones, slimy an' scorchin' hot also——
[There is the sound of feet coming up the shop steps, followed by a hand trying the door-knob.Hughlooks up from his sermons, an expression of innocent triumph on his face. The door-knob is tried again, the door rattled.
[There is the sound of feet coming up the shop steps, followed by a hand trying the door-knob.Hughlooks up from his sermons, an expression of innocent triumph on his face. The door-knob is tried again, the door rattled.
[Then some one rings the shop door-bell.
[Then some one rings the shop door-bell.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. [Calling.] Mrs. Williams, mum, have ye any soap? [No answer. Calling.] Mrs. Williams! Mrs. Williams!
[Hughnods approvingly and lifts his volume to read.
[Hughnods approvingly and lifts his volume to read.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. Where are they all whatever? I will just look in at the window, [A large, kindly face is anxiously flattened against the window. At thatHughdrops in consternation under the three-legged table.] Uch, what's that shadow skippin' under the table? No doubt a rat after the groceries. Mrs. Williams, mum, Mrs. Williams! Well, indeed, they're out.
[She pounds once more on the door with a heavy fist, rings, and then goes. Suddenly the door back centre opens, andNeli Williamsappears.
[She pounds once more on the door with a heavy fist, rings, and then goes. Suddenly the door back centre opens, andNeli Williamsappears.
NELI. [She does not seeHughand peers around for him.] What is all that bell-ringing about?
[Hughcrawls out from under the table.
[Hughcrawls out from under the table.
HUGH. Hush, she's gone!
NELI. [Amazed, and whispering to herself.] Under the table!
HUGH. [Rising and putting up his hand as a sign for her to keep silent.] Nay, 'twas Mrs. Jones the Wash come to buy her soap whatever!
NELI. Aye, well, why didn't she come in whatever?
HUGH. [Whispering.] I locked the door, Neli, so I could finish readin' those essays whatever! An' then she looked in at the window, an' I had to get under the table.
NELI. [Indignantly.] Locked the door against a customer, an' after all I said! An' crawled under a table! Hugh Williams, your wits are goin' quite on the downfall!
HUGH. [In a whisper.] Aye, but Neli, those essays—an' I thought ye had gone to market.
NELI. I had started, but I came back for my purse. Put down that book!
HUGH. Aye, but, Neli——
NELI. [Angrily.] Much less of heaven an' much more of earth is what I need in a husband! Ye have sent away a customer; very like Mrs. Jones the Wash after soap will go elsewhere.
HUGH. Aye, but Neli....
[Steps are heard approaching.
[Steps are heard approaching.
NELI. Get up! Some one is coming.
[Hughgets up very unwillingly.
[Hughgets up very unwillingly.
HUGH. [Whispering still.] Aye, but Neli....
NELI. [Angrily.] Put down that book, I say! [She crunches over some eggshells.] Eggs? Broken?
HUGH. [Putting down book.] Aye, Neli, my elbow an' the eggs in Babylon....
NELI. [Sarcastically.] Aye, I see beasts in Babylon here together—doleful creatures smearin' one an' sixpence worth of eggs all over the floor. An' a half-dozen eggs gone last week. [Wiping up eggs.] An' I'm to suppose Babylon had something to do with that half-dozen eggs, too? They were put in thebasket after Mrs. Jones the Wash had left whatever, an' before Deacon Roberts came.
HUGH. Neli, I did not say——
NELI. [Still angrily.] Well, indeed, unlock that door!
HUGH. [Going to unlock door.] But, Neli....
NELI. [Disappearing through door back centre.] Not a word! Your mind has gone quite on the downfall—lockin' doors against your own bread and butter an' soap.
HUGH. [Unlocking door sullenly.] But, Neli, salvation an' soap....
NELI. [Snappily.] Salvation an' soap are as thick as thieves.
HUGH. But, Neli, a man is his own master.
NELI. Yiss, I see he is!
[Neligoes out, slamming door noisily.
HUGH. Dear anwyl, she seems angry!
[Hughopens street door left just asNeligoes out through kitchen, by door back centre.Deacon Robertsenters the doorHughhas unlocked. He looks atHugh,smiles, and goes over to counter in a businesslike way. He is a stout man, dressed in a black broadcloth cutaway coat, tight trousers, a drab vest, high collar and stock, woollen gloves, a muffler wound about his neck and face, and a tall Welsh beaver hat. Under his arm he carries a book.
[Hughopens street door left just asNeligoes out through kitchen, by door back centre.Deacon Robertsenters the doorHughhas unlocked. He looks atHugh,smiles, and goes over to counter in a businesslike way. He is a stout man, dressed in a black broadcloth cutaway coat, tight trousers, a drab vest, high collar and stock, woollen gloves, a muffler wound about his neck and face, and a tall Welsh beaver hat. Under his arm he carries a book.
DEACONROBERTS. [Speaking affectionately, pulling off his gloves, putting down book on counter, and beginning eagerly to touch the various groceries.] Essays on Babylon to-day, Hughie lad?
HUGH. [Looking about forNeliand speaking fretfully.] Nay.
DEACONROBERTS. [Unwinding his muffler.] Ye look as if ye had been in spiritual struggle.
HUGH. [Drearily.] I have.
DEACONROBERTS. Well, indeed, Hughie, 'tis neither the angel nor the archfiend here now, nor for me any struggle except the struggle to both live an' eat well—ho! ho!an'eat well, I say—in Bala. [Laughs jovially.] Ho! ho! not bad, Hughie lad—livean'eat in Bala!
HUGH. [Patiently.] With that muffler around your head, deacon, ye are enough to frighten the devil out of Babylon.
DEACONROBERTS. [Unwinding last lap of muffler.] Yiss, yiss, Hughie lad. But I dunno but ye will understand better if I call myself, let us say the angel with the sickle—ho! ho!—not the angel of fire, Hughie, but the angel with the sharp sickle gatherin' the clusters of the vines of the earth. [Sudden change of subject.] Where is Neli?
HUGH. [Vacantly.] I dunno—yiss, yiss, at market.
DEACONROBERTS. [Chuckling.] Dear, dear, at market—a fine day for marketing! An' my essays on the Flamin' Wickedness of Babylon, Hughie lad, how are they? Have ye finished them?
HUGH. Nay, not yet.
DEACONROBERTS. [Looking over counter, touching one article after another as he mentions it.] Pickled herrin'—grand but wet! Pickles—dear me, yiss, Neli's—an' good! Butter from Hafod-y-Porth—sweet as honey! [He picks up a pat of butter and sniffs it, drawing in his breath loudly. He smiles with delight and lays down the butter. He takes off his hat and dusts it out inside. He puts his hat back on his head, smiles, chuckles, picks up butter, taps it thoughtfully with two fingers, smells it and puts down the pat lingeringly. He lifts up a loaf ofNeli Williams'sbread, glancing from it to the butter.] Bread! Dear me! [His eyes glance on to codfish.] American codfish [picks up package and smacks his lips loudly], dearanwyl, with potatoes—[reads] "Gloucester." [Reaches out and touches eggs affectionately.] Eggs—are they fresh, Hugh?
HUGH. [Dreamily.] I dunno. But I broke some of them. They might be!
[Looks at floor.
DEACONROBERTS.Werethey fresh?
HUGH. I dunno.
DEACONROBERTS. [Sharply.] Dunno? Abouteggs?
[Picks up egg.
HUGH. [Troubled.] Neli's hens laid them.
DEACONROBERTS. I see, Neli's hens laid 'em, an' you broke 'em! Admirable arrangement! [Putting down the egg and turning toward the cheese, speaks on impatiently.] Well, indeed then, were the hens fresh?
HUGH. [More cheerful.] Yiss, I think. Last week the basket was grand an' full of fresh eggs, but they disappeared, aye, they did indeed.
DEACONROBERTS. [Starts.] Where did they go to?
HUGH. [Injured.] How can I say? I was here, an' I would have told her if I had seen, but I did not whatever. Neli reproves me for too great attention to visions an' too little to the groceries.
DEACONROBERTS. [Chuckling.] Aye, Hughie lad, such is married life! Let a man marry his thoughts or a wife, for he cannot have both. I have chosen my thoughts.
HUGH. But the cat——
DEACONROBERTS. [Briskly.] Aye, a man can keep a cat without risk.
HUGH. Nay, nay, I mean the cat took 'em. I dunno. That's it— [Hughclutches his head, trying to recall something.] Uch, that's it! Neli told me to remember to ask ye if ye thought eggs could steal a cat whatever.
DEACONROBERTS. [Puzzled.] Eggs steal a cat?
HUGH. [Troubled.] Nay, nay, cats steal an egg?
DEACONROBERTS. [Startled and looking suspiciously atHugh.] Cats? What cats?
HUGH. [With solemnity.] Aye, but I told Neli I'm no carin' about cats with heaven starin' me in the face. Deacon Roberts, those essays are grand an' wonderful.
DEACONROBERTS. [Relieved.] Yiss, yiss! Hughie lad, theology is a means to salvation an' sometimes to other ends, too. But there's no money in theology. [Sighs.] And a man mustlive! [Points to corroded dish of pickled herring, sniffing greedily.] Dear people, what beautiful herrin'! [Wipes moisture away from corners of his mouth and picks up a fish from dish, holding it, dripping, by tail.] Pickled?
HUGH. [Looking at corroded dish.] Tuppence.
DEACONROBERTS. [Shortly.] Dear to-day.
HUGH. [Eyeing dish dreamily.] I dunno. Neli——
DEACONROBERTS. [Eyes glittering, cutting straight through sentence and pointing to cheese.] Cheese?
HUGH. A shillin', I'm thinkin'.
DEACONROBERTS. A shillin', Hugh? [Deacon Robertslifts knife and drops it lightly on edge of cheese. The leaf it pares off he picks up and thrusts into his mouth, greedily pushing in the crumbs. Then he pauses and looks slyly atHugh.] Was it sixpence ye said, Hugh?
HUGH. [Gazing toward the fire and the volume of essays.] Yiss, sixpence, I think.
DEACONROBERTS. [Sarcastically.] Still too dear, Hugh!
HUGH. [Sighing.] I dunno, it might be dear. [With more animation.] Deacon, when Babylon fell——
DEACONROBERTS. [Wipes his mouth and, interruptingHugh,speaks decisively.] No cheese. [He removes his tall Welsh beaver hat, mops off his bald white head, and, pointing up to the shelves, begins to dust out inside of hatband again, but with a deliberate air of preparation.] What is that up there, Hughie lad?
HUGH. [Trying to follow the direction of the big red wavering forefinger.] Ye mean that? A B C In-fants' Food, I think.
DEACONROBERTS. [Giving his hat a final wipe.] Nay, nay, not for me, Hughie lad! Come, come, brush the smoke of burnin' Babylon from your eyes! In a minute I must be goin' back to my study, whatever. An' I have need of food!
[Hughtakes a chair and mounts it. TheDeaconlooks atHugh'sback, puts his hand down on the counter, and picks up an egg from the basket. He holds it to the light and squints through it to see whether it is fresh. Then heturns it lovingly over in his fat palm, makes a dexterous backward motion and slides it into his coat-tail pocket. This he follows with two more eggs for same coat-tail and three for other—in all half a dozen.
[Hughtakes a chair and mounts it. TheDeaconlooks atHugh'sback, puts his hand down on the counter, and picks up an egg from the basket. He holds it to the light and squints through it to see whether it is fresh. Then heturns it lovingly over in his fat palm, makes a dexterous backward motion and slides it into his coat-tail pocket. This he follows with two more eggs for same coat-tail and three for other—in all half a dozen.
HUGH. [Dreamily pointing to tin.] Is it Yankee corn?
DEACONROBERTS. [To Hugh's back, and slipping in second egg.] Nay, nay, not that, Hughie lad, that tin above!
HUGH. [Absent-mindedly touching tin.] Is it ox tongue?
DEACONROBERTS. [Slipping in third egg and not even looking up.] Ox tongue, lad? Nay, nuthin' so large as that.
HUGH. [Dreamily reaching up higher.] American condensed m-m-milk? Yiss, that's what it is.
DEACONROBERTS. [Slipping in fourth egg.] Condensed milk, Hughie? Back to infants' food again.
HUGH. [Stretching up almost to his full length and holding down tin with tips of long white finger.] Kippert herrin'? Is it that?
DEACONROBERTS. [Slipping in fifth egg.] Nay, nay, a little further up, if you please.
HUGH. [Gasping, but still reaching up and reading.] Uto—U-to-pi-an Tinned Sausage. Is it that?
DEACONROBERTS. [Slipping in sixth egg with an air of finality and triumph, and lifting his hat from the counter.] Nay, nay, not that, Hughie lad. Why do ye not begin by askin' me what I want? Ye've no gift for sellin' groceries whatever.
HUGH. [Surprised.] Did I not ask ye?
DEACONROBERTS. Nay.
HUGH. What would Neli say whatever? She would never forgive me.
DEACONROBERTS. [Amiably.] Well, I forgive ye, Hughie lad. 'Tis a relish I'm needin'!
HUGH. [Relieved.] Well, indeed, a relish! We have relishes on that shelf above, I think. [Reaches up but pauses helplessly.] I must tell Neli that these shelves are not straight.
[Dizzy and clinging to the shelves, his back to theDeacon.
[Dizzy and clinging to the shelves, his back to theDeacon.
DEACONROBERTS. [Picking up a pound of butter wrapped in print paper.] Is it up there?
HUGH. No, I think, an' the shelves are not fast whatever. I must tell Neli. They go up like wings. [Trying to reach to a bottle just above him.] Was it English or American?
DEACONROBERTS. [Putting the pound of butter in his hat and his hat on his head.] American, Hughie lad.
[At that instant there is a noise from the inner kitchen, andNeli Williamsopens the door. TheDeaconturns, and their glances meet and cross. Each understands perfectly what the other has seen.Neli Williamshas thrown off her red cloak and taken off her Welsh beaver hat. She is dressed in a short full skirt, white stockings, clogs on her feet, a striped apron, tight bodice, fichu, short sleeves, and white cap on dark hair.
[At that instant there is a noise from the inner kitchen, andNeli Williamsopens the door. TheDeaconturns, and their glances meet and cross. Each understands perfectly what the other has seen.Neli Williamshas thrown off her red cloak and taken off her Welsh beaver hat. She is dressed in a short full skirt, white stockings, clogs on her feet, a striped apron, tight bodice, fichu, short sleeves, and white cap on dark hair.
NELI. [Slowly.] Uch! The deacon has what he came for whatever!
HUGH. [Turning to contradict his wife.] Nay, Neli— [Losing his balance on chair, tumbles off, and, with arm flung out to save himself, strikes dish of pickled herring. The herring and brine fly in every direction, spraying theDeaconandHughie;the bowl spins madly, dipping and revolving on the floor. For a few seconds nothing is audible except the bowl revolving on the flagstones andHughiepicking himself up and sneezing behind the counter.] Achoo! Achoo! Dear me, Neli—Achoo!
NELI. [Going quickly to husband and beginning to wipe brine from husband's forehead and cheeks; at the same time has her back to theDeaconand forming soundless letters with her lips, she jerks her head toward theDeacon.] B-U-T-T-E-R!
HUGH. [Drearily.] Better? Aye, I'm better. It did not hurt me whatever.
NELI. [Jerking head backwards towardDeacon Robertsand again forming letters with lips.] B-U-T-T-E-R!
HUGH. What, water? Nay, I don't want any water.
DEACONROBERTS. [Coughing, ill at ease and glancing suspiciously at bowl that has come to rest near his leg.] Ahem! 'Tis cold here, Mrs. Williams, mum, an' I must be movin' on.
NELI. [Savagely toDeacon.] Stay where ye are whatever!
DEACONROBERTS. [Unaccustomed to being spoken to this way by a woman.] Well, indeed, mum, I could stay, but I'm thinkin' 'tis cold an'—I'd better go.
NELI. [Again savagely.] Nay, stay! Stay for—for what ye came for whatever!
[Nelilooks challengingly at theDeacon.Then she goes on wiping brine carefully from husband's hair and from behind his ears. TheDeaconcoughs and pushes bowl away with the toe of his boot.
[Nelilooks challengingly at theDeacon.Then she goes on wiping brine carefully from husband's hair and from behind his ears. TheDeaconcoughs and pushes bowl away with the toe of his boot.
DEACONROBERTS. [Smiling.] 'Tis unnecessary to remain then, mum.
NELI. [ToHugh.] What did he get?
HUGH. [Sneezing.] N—n—Achoo!—nothin'!
DEACONROBERTS. [With sudden interest, looking at the floor.] Well, indeed!
NELI. [Suspiciously.] What is it?
[He reaches down with difficulty to a small thick puddle on the floor just beneath his left coat-tail. He aims a red forefinger at it, lifts himself, and sucks fingertip.
[He reaches down with difficulty to a small thick puddle on the floor just beneath his left coat-tail. He aims a red forefinger at it, lifts himself, and sucks fingertip.
DEACONROBERTS. [Smiling.] Ahem, Mrs. Williams, mum, 'tis excellent herrin' brine! [From the basket on the counter he picks up an egg, which he tosses lightly and replaces in basket.] A beautiful fresh egg, Mrs. Williams, mum. I must be steppin' homewards.
HUGH. [Struggling to speak just asNelireaches his nose, wringing it vigorously at she wipes it.] Aye, but Neli, I was just tellin' ye when I fell that I could not find the deacon's relish—uch, achoo! achoo!
DEACONROBERTS. [With finality, tossing the egg in air,catching it and putting it back in basket.] Well, indeed, mum, I must be steppin' homewards now.
[Neli'sglance rests on fire burning on other side of room.She puts down wet cloth. She turns squarely on theDeacon.
[Neli'sglance rests on fire burning on other side of room.She puts down wet cloth. She turns squarely on theDeacon.
NELI. What is your haste, Mr. Roberts? Please to go to the fire an' wait! I can find the relish.
DEACONROBERTS. [Hastily.] Nay, nay, mum. I have no need any more—[Coughs.] Excellent herrin' brine.
[Goes toward door.
NELI. [ToHugh.] Take him to the fire, Hugh. 'Tis a cold day whatever! [Insinuatingly toDeacon.] Have ye a reason for wantin' to go, Mr. Roberts?
DEACONROBERTS. [Going.] Nay, nay, mum, none at all! But, I must not trouble ye. 'Tis too much to ask, an' I have no time to spare an'——
NELI. [Interrupting and not without acerbity.] Indeed, Mr. Roberts, sellin' what wecanis our profit. [ToHugh,who obediently takesDeaconby arm and pulls him toward fire.] Take him to the fire, lad. [ToDeacon.] What kind of a relish was it, did ye say, Mr. Roberts?
DEACONROBERTS. [Having a tug of war withHugh.] 'Tis an Indian relish, mum, but I cannot wait.
HUGH. [Pulling harder.] American, ye said.
DEACONROBERTS. [Hastily.] Yiss, yiss, American Indian relish, that is.
NELI. Tut, 'tis our specialty, these American Indian relishes! We have several. Sit down by the fire while I look them up. [Wickedly.] As ye said. Mr. Roberts, 'tis cold here this morning.
DEACONROBERTS. There, Hughie lad, I must not trouble ye. [Looks at clock.] 'Tis ten minutes before twelve, an' my dinner will be ready at twelve.
[Pulls harder.
NELI. [ToHugh.] Keep him by the fire, lad.
DEACONROBERTS. There, Hughie lad, let me go!
[ButHughholds on, and theDeacon'scoat begins to come off.
[ButHughholds on, and theDeacon'scoat begins to come off.
NELI. [Sarcastically.] The relish—American Indian, ye said, I think—will make your dinner taste fine and grand!
DEACONROBERTS. [Finding that without leaving his coat behind he is unable to go, he glowers atHughand speaks sweetly toNeli.] 'Tis a beautiful clock, Mrs. Williams, mum. But I haven't five minutes to spare.
NELI. [Keeping a sharp lookout on the rim of theDeacon'shat.] Well, indeed, I can find the relish in just one minute. An' ye'll have abundance of time left.
DEACONROBERTS. [Trapped, and gazing at clock with fine air of indifference.] 'Tis a clever, shinin' lookin' clock whatever, Mrs. Williams, mum.
NELI. Have ye any recollection of the name of the maker of the relish, Mr. Roberts?
DEACONROBERTS. [Putting his hands behind him anxiously and parting his freighted coat-tails with care; then, revolving, presenting his back and one large, well-set, bright-colored patch to the fire.] Nay, I have forgotten it, Mrs. Williams, mum.
NELI. Too bad, but I'm sure to find it. [She mounts upon chair. At this moment the shop door-bell rings violently, and there entersMrs. Jones the Wash,very fat and very jolly. She is dressed in short skirt, very full, clogs on her feet, a bodice made of striped Welsh flannel, a shabby kerchief, a cap on her head, and over this a shawl.Neliturns her head a little.] Aye, Mrs. Jones the Wash, in a minute, if you please. Sit down until I find Deacon Roberts's relish whatever.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. [Sits down on chair by door back centre and folds her hands over her stomach.] Yiss, yiss, mum, thank you. I've come for soap. I came once before, but no one was in.
NELI. Too bad!
MRS. JONES THEWASH. An' I looked in at the window an'saw nothin' but a skippin' shadow looked like a rat. Have ye any rats, Mrs. Williams, mum, do ye think?
NELI. Have I any rats? Well, indeed, 'tis that I'm wantin' to know, Mrs. Jones the Wash!
MRS. JONES THEWASH. Well, I came back, for the water is eatin' the soap to-day as if 'twere sweets—aye, 'tis a very meltin' day for soap! [Laughs.
DEACONROBERTS. 'Tis sweet to be clean, Mrs. Jones the Wash.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. [Laughing.] Yiss, yiss, Deacon Roberts, there has many a chapel been built out of a washtub, an' many a prayer risen up from the suds!
DEACONROBERTS. [Solemnly.] Aye, Mrs. Jones the Wash, 'tis holy work, washin' is very holy work.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. [Touched.] Yiss, yiss, I thank ye, Deacon Roberts.
DEACONROBERTS. Well, I must be steppin' homeward now.
NELI. [Firmly.] Nay, Mr. Roberts. I am searchin' on the shelf where I think that American Indian relish is. Ye act as if ye had some cause to hurry, Mr. Roberts. Wait a moment, if you please.
DEACONROBERTS. Well, indeed, but I am keepin' Mrs. Jones the Wash waitin'!
NELI. [ToMrs. Jones.] Ye are in no haste?
MRS. JONES THEWASH. [Thoroughly comfortable and happy.] Nay, mum, no haste at all. I am havin' a rest, an' 'tis grand an' warm here whatever.
NELI. [Maliciously toDeacon.] Does it feel hot by the fire?
DEACONROBERTS. [Experiencing novel sensations on the crown of his bald head.] Mrs. Williams, mum, 'tis hot in Y Gegin, but as with Llanycil Churchyard, Y Gegin is only the portal to a hotter an' a bigger place where scorchin' flames burn forever an' forever. Proverbs saith, "Hell an' destruction are never full." What, then, shall be the fate of women who have no wisdom, Mrs. Williams, mum?
NELI. [Searching for relish.] Aye, what? Well, indeed, the men must know.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. [Nodding her head appreciatively atHugh.] Such eloquence, Mr. Williams! Aye, who in chapel has such grand theology as Deacon Roberts!
[She sighs. The bell rings violently again, andTom Morris the Sheepenters. He is dressed in gaiters, a shepherd's cloak, etc., etc. He carries a crook in his hand. He is a grizzle-haired, rosy-faced old man, raw-boned, strong, and awkward, with a half-earnest, half-foolish look.
[She sighs. The bell rings violently again, andTom Morris the Sheepenters. He is dressed in gaiters, a shepherd's cloak, etc., etc. He carries a crook in his hand. He is a grizzle-haired, rosy-faced old man, raw-boned, strong, and awkward, with a half-earnest, half-foolish look.
NELI. [Looking around.] Aye, Tom Morris the Sheep, come in an' sit down. I am lookin' out an American Indian relish for the deacon.
TOMMORRIS THESHEEP. Yiss, mum. I am wantin' to buy a little tobacco, mum. 'Tis lonely upon the hillsides with the sheep, whatever.
DEACONROBERTS. [Hastily.] I must go now, Mrs. Williams, mum, an' ye can wait on Tom Morris.
TOMMORRIS THESHEEP. Nay, nay, Mr. Roberts, sir, there is no haste.
NELI. [ToTom Morris.] Sit down there by the door, if you please.
[Tom Morrisseats himself on other side of door by back centre.
[Tom Morrisseats himself on other side of door by back centre.
TOMMORRIS THESHEEP. Yiss, mum. [Touches his forelock toMrs. Jones the Wash.] A grand day for the clothes, Mrs. Jones, mum.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. Yiss, yiss, an' as I was just sayin' 'tis a meltin' day for the soap!
NELI. [Significantly.] An' perhaps 'tis a meltin' day for somethin' besides soap!
[She looks atDeacon.
HUGH. [Earnestly.] Yiss, yiss, for souls, meltin' for souls, I am hopin'. [Picking up the book from the little three-legged table, and speaking to theDeacon.] They are enlargin' the burial ground in Llanycil Churchyard—achoo! achoo!
DEACONROBERTS. [Slyly moving a step away from fire.] They're only enlargin' hell, Hughie lad, an' in that place they always make room for all. [He casts a stabbing look atNeli.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. [Nodding head.] True, true, room for all! [Chuckling.] But 'twould be a grand place to dry the clothes in!
DEACONROBERTS. [Severely.] Mrs. Jones, mum, hell is paved with words of lightness.
HUGH. [Looking up from book, his face expressing delight.] Deacon Roberts, I have searched for the place of hell, but one book sayeth one thing, an' another another. Where is hell?
TOMMORRIS THESHEEP. Aye, where is hell?
[The bell rings violently. All start exceptNeli. Mrs. Jenkins the Midwifeenters. She is an old woman, white-haired, and with a commanding, somewhat disagreeable expression on her face. She wears a cloak and black Welsh beaver and walks with a stick.
[The bell rings violently. All start exceptNeli. Mrs. Jenkins the Midwifeenters. She is an old woman, white-haired, and with a commanding, somewhat disagreeable expression on her face. She wears a cloak and black Welsh beaver and walks with a stick.
NELI. Yiss, yiss, Mrs. Jenkins the Midwife, I am just lookin' out a relish for the Deacon. Sit down by the fire, please.
MRS. JENKINS THEMIDWIFE. [Seating herself on other side of fire.] Aye, mum, I've come for pins; I'm in no haste.
NELI. is it Jane Elin's baby?
MRS. JENKINS THEMIDWIFE. Aye, Jane Elin's, an' 'tis my sixth hundredth birth.
HUGH. We're discussing the place of hell, Mrs. Jenkins, mum.
MRS. JENKINS THEMIDWIFE. Well, indeed, I have seen the place of hell six hundred times then. [Coughs and nods her head up and down over stick.] Heaven an' hell I'm thinkin' we have with us here.
HUGH. Nay, nay, how could that be? Tell us where is the place of hell, Deacon Roberts.
[All listen with the most intense interest.
[All listen with the most intense interest.
DEACONROBERTS. [Nodding.] Aye, the place of hell—[stopping suddenly, a terrified look on his face, as the butter slidesagainst the forward rim of his hat, almost knocking it off, then going on with neck rigid and head straight up] to me is known where is that place—their way is dark an' slippery; they go down into the depths, an' their soul is melted because of trouble.
NELI. [Pausing sceptically.] Aye, 'tis my idea of hell whatever with souls meltin', Mr. Roberts!
HUGH. [Tense with expectation.] Tell us where is that place!
DEACONROBERTS. [Neck rigid, head unmoved, and voice querulous.] Yiss, yiss. [Putting his hand up and letting it down quickly.] Ahem! Ye believe that it rains in Bala?
HUGH. [Eyes onDeacon,in childlike faith.] I do.
MRS. JENKINS THEMIDWIFE. Yiss, yiss, before an' after every birth whatever!
MRS. JONES THEWASH. Yiss, yiss, who would know better than I that it rains in Bala?
TOMMORRIS THESHEEP. Aye, amen, it rains in Bala upon the hills an' in the valleys.
DEACONROBERTS. Ye believe that it can rain in Bala both when the moon is full an' when 'tis new?
HUGH. [Earnestly.] I do.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. [Wearily.] Yiss, any time.
TOMMORRIS THESHEEP. Aye, all the time.
MRS. JENKINS THEMIDWIFE.. Yiss, yiss, it rains ever an' forever!
NELI. [Forgetting the relish search.] Well, indeed, 'tis true it can rain in Bala at any time an' at all times.
DEACONROBERTS. [Paying no attention to Neli.] Ye believe that Tomen-y-Bala is Ararat?
HUGH. [Clutching his book more tightly and speaking in a whisper.] Yiss.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. Aye, 'tis true.
MRS. JENKINS THEMIDWIFE.. Yiss, the Hill of Bala is Ararat.
TOMMORRIS THESHEEP. Yiss, I have driven the sheep over it whatever more than a hundred times.
NELI. [Both hands on counter, leaning forward, listening toDeacon'swords.] Aye, Charles-y-Bala said so.
DEACONROBERTS. [Still ignoringNeliand lowering his coat-tails carefully.] Ye believe, good people, that the Druids called Noah "Tegid," an' that those who were saved were cast up on Tomen-y-Bala?
HUGH. Amen, I do!
MRS. JENKINS THEMIDWIFE. [Nodding her old head.] Aye, 'tis true.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. Yiss, yiss.
TOMMORRIS THESHEEP. Amen, 'tis so.
DEACONROBERTS. [Moving a few steps away from the fire, standing sidewise, and lifting hand to head, checking it in midair.] An' ye know that Bala has been a lake, an' Bala will become a lake?
HUGH. Amen, I do!
NELI. [Assenting for the first time.] Yiss, 'tis true—that is.
MRS. JONES THEWASH. Dear anwyl, yiss!
DEACONROBERTS. [With warning gesture toward window.] Hell is out there—movin' beneath Bala Lake to meet all at their comin'. [Raises his voice suddenly.] Red-hot Baal stones will fall upon your heads—Baal stones. Howl ye! [Shouting loudly.] Meltin' stones smellin' of the bullocks. Howl, ye sinners! [Clasping his hands together desperately.] Scorchin' hot—Oo—o—o—Howl ye!—howl ye! [TheDeacon'shat sways, and he jams it down more tightly on his head. Unclasping his hands and as if stirring up the contents of a pudding-dish.] 'Round an' round like this! Howl, ye sinners, howl!