Scene: The attic, the following evening. The Play-play shows a tenement room. Entrance to hall Left; also a small stove. In center a table. Entrance to another room, Right.
At rise: The Real-play, showing Will buried in his manuscripts, Left. Peggy Right at the cot, where there is a substitute child, representing Bill asleep.
Peggy (goes and watches Will).Well, how goes the Pot-boiler?
Will.Almost through.
Peggy.Will, do you think it can be good if you do it so fast?
Will.I can't do it any other way, dear. I have to throw it off at white heat. We can go back and revise it.
Peggy.You look dreadfully pale, dear.
Will.I know—I'm tired.
Peggy.You promised you wouldn't work right after meals. How is your stomach?
Will.Oh, bother my stomach! I can't keep away from this work, there's no use talking about it. Come see what you make of this manuscript.(Peggy sits.)I want to show a front scene, the same as in the last act. It's the restaurant again.(The Play-play begins to appear as in Scene II, Act II, but showing restaurant in ruins.)It's morning. There's a difference, you see. The place has been burned out.
Peggy.Yes, Bill and I had a look at it!
Will.There's the policeman on guard, marching up and down; and Bill comes on. Here, read it.(Full light on the Play-play.)
Bill.Hello! What's happened?
Policeman.I'll give yez three guesses!
Bill.A fire!
Policeman.Right yez are!
Bill.When did it happen?
Policeman.In the night.
Bill.And where's Schmidt?
Policeman.He's in jail.
Bill.In jail?
Policeman.Sure, the firemen smelled kerosene.
Bill.Holy smoke! The poor old Dutchie! He set fire to his place!
Policeman.That's what they say. I wasn't here.
Bill.Well, I'll be switched! If I'd been here I might a' got some charlotte russes!
Policeman.With kerosene on them, belike!(Starts Right.)
Bill.Say, mister! Youse know that guy that was waiter here?
Policeman.Yes.
Bill.They didn't jug him, did they?
Policeman.No. He's lookin' for his week's wages!(Laughs; exit Right.)
Bill.Holy smoke!(A murmur is heard from the child on cot Right. The Play-play begins to fade. Faint light on the Real-play.)
Peggy (rises and goes over to cot; then returns to Will).He seems to be more restless. Oh, I hope he's not going to be sick!
Will (In agitation).Don't let's get to thinking about that now!
Peggy.All right, dear.
Will.We're coming to the big scenes. I want to show the tenement where Belle and Dolly live.(The Play-play begins to appear.)There's a room adjoining, where Jack stays. It's a few days after the fire. Belle has gone out to get something for supper. Meantime the land-lady comes. I used our landlady.
Peggy.That ought to make a lively scene!
Will.We're entitled to a little vengeance, I think imagine her—with her ostrich feathers and her greasy old blue dress, her sharp red nose and her fighting voice. I've got our landlady, you bet!
Peggy.Give it here.(Full light on the Play-play. Peggy makes secret exit. Repeated knocks at the door of Play-play Left.)
Landlady (opens door).Now, where's them people?(Looks about suspiciously.)Haven't skipped, I hope!(Goes to room Right.)Anybody in here? Humph! Looks like they're hard up! A bum lot!(Belle appears Left with shawl over shoulders and a loaf of bread in her hand.)Oh! Here you are! I want that rent.
Belle.Why do you come for it to-night?(She stands in doorway, as if afraid of the woman.)
Landlady.Ain' it been due two weeks?
Belle.But I told you we'd have it to-morrow.
Landlady.Well, it's nearly to-morrow. I want to get it before it's gone.
Belle.But Dolly doesn't get home until very late.
Landlady.You keep telling me about Dolly——
Belle.She said she'd have some money. I'll bring it to your room as soon as she gets home.
Landlady.All right. I've got sick of waitin' for that money! If you haven't got it you can just move on, that's all! You might as well understand——
Belle (with gesture of distraction).Oh, all right! All right! I've told you we're doing our best!(Turns and rushes off Left.)
Landlady.Well, now. Will you look at that!(Paces up and down.)They come and use your rooms and if you ask what's due you, they turn and run! That's what it is to be a landlady! That's the way they treat you!(Calls.)Here! You don't need to move to-night!(Follows off Left; calling.)What are you running for? I'm not going to eat you! But I want you to know I got to have that money—I got my own bills to pay.(A bell sounds in the Real-play and the Play-play fades instantly.)
Will.God! It seems to me that bell rings all day and all night!
Peggy (rising).Wait, dear. I'll answer it.
(Rises and goes to door. Will continues absorbed in manuscript.)
Landlady (at door of Real-play).Good-evening. I've come for the rent.
Peggy.I'm sorry, but you know I told you it would be a few days yet.
Landlady.How many days do you call a few?
Peggy.Well, a day or two more.
Landlady.That rent's overdue a month. You'll have to get it somehow or quit.
Will (looking up from manuscript).Didn't I tell you you could have it when Dolly gets home?
Landlady.Dolly! Who's Dolly?
Will.Oh, I——(Laughs.)I beg pardon!
Peggy (laughing with him).You see, my husband's writing a play, and Dolly is one of the characters in it. We're putting you in, too.
Landlady.Me?
Peggy.Yes—I hope you won't mind. You see, he wanted somebody that was interesting, that people would like to see on the stage——
Will.And when it comes out you can go and see it.
Peggy.We'll get you tickets, you know.
Will.We'll be delighted to place a box at your disposal.
Landlady.Well, for the land's sake!(Beaming.)What sort of a character am I?
Will.Why, you're the landlady in the play; there's a poor family in distress, and you take pity on them, and help them in their trouble. It's very touching—everybody will be moved to tears by it.
Landlady (suspiciously).Well now, that's all right, but I have to have my rent. I have to pay the agent for this house. If you can't pay me, I have to ask you to move.
Peggy.Oh, surely you wouldn't do that!
Landlady.Why wouldn't I?
Peggy.Don't you see how it would be in the play? You'd be hard and unmerciful.
Will.Everybody would dislike you!
Peggy.Think how ashamed you'd feel—before a whole theatre full of people every night!
Will.You see, you must live up to the character we've imagined.
Landlady.Well, for the land's sake!(Overcome by curiosity.)When is this to be played?
Will.Just as soon as I can get it done.
Landlady.Well, don't be too long. I'd like to help you, but I need my money as much as anybody.(Grinning.)Well, now, ain't that cute! In a play! Well, good luck to you! I'm sorry I interrupted you, I hope it'll be all right. Good-evening.
Peggy and Will.Good-evening.(Landlady exit.)
Will.Did you ever hear the equal of that?
Peggy.Off in your local color again!
Will.We can jolly her along for a month yet!
Peggy.The landlady and the grocer—we can work forever!(Child tosses restlessly in sleep and murmurs.)
Peggy (rises and goes to cot, and soothes child).There, there, Bill.(To Will, who rises.)Dear, he's feverish.
Will.Are you sure?
Peggy.Oh, I ought to get the doctor!
Will.We already owe the doctor.
Peggy.I know—but he'd come if I asked him to.
Will.What good could he do? He'd only tell us what we already know—that you can't keep a child well if you shut him up in a tenement room in hot summer weather, and feed him on beans and prunes.
Peggy.Will, listen to me. I can stand anything else—but if Bill gets sick, we have to give up! Do you understand? I couldn't endure that—I——
Will (wildly).Why do we have to start that now? I want to finish the play!(Drags her to work-table.)Come! Sit down here and let's get busy! Right off! Not another word!(They sit side by side.)I've a scene here with Bill. I want to know what you think of it.(Lights begin to rise on Play-play.)Bill comes to see Belle. This manuscript——
Peggy.Give it to me.(They read together. Full light on the Play-play. Peggy makes secret exit. Several knocks on the door of Play-play Left. Bill opens timidly and looks about.)
Bill.Nobody home?(Calls.)Hey! Anybody in here? Well, I suppose they won't mind if I make myself at home. Gee, I wonder if they'll sure enough let me stay here!(Sits on chair.)
Belle (enters).Oh!
Belle.Good evening.
Bill.Youse remember me, lady? I was in Schmidt's restaurant!
Belle.Oh, yes!
Bill.I'm a friend o' Jack's. I seen him on the street just now.
Belle.Has he got a job yet?
Bill.Nothin' yet. Gee, that was tough—how he lost his week's wages! Do youse think that old Dutchie set the fire?
Belle.I don't know.
Bill.I seen there was a fur-shop over that there joint, and they say that fur-shops burn up in February—when they've sold out their stock!
Belle.You're a knowing kid!
Bill.Youse got to be knowin' at my job!
Belle (noticing that he has a black eye).You've got a black eye!
Bill.Sure! A shiner!
Belle.How did you get it?
Bill.Me step-father.
Belle.What did you do?
Bill.Sure, I ran into his fist.
Belle.But—what did he hit you for?
Bill.He don't need no reason. He hits.
Belle.Oh, you poor kid! Why do you stand it?
Bill.I ain't goin' to, no more. I told Jack about it, an' he says fer me to come and stay in his room. Will youse take me in?
Belle.Why, sure!
Bill.I ain't no dead beat, youse unnerstand. I earn my keep. Look a here!(Pulls out a handful of pennies.)Ain't much gold in it, but it makes a good jingle.
Belle.How did you get it?
Bill.Extry! Extry! Woil'n Join'l! Sun'n Globe! Mail'n Telygram!(Looks about.)Say, I don't like the housekeepin' in this here joint.
Belle.What's the matter?
Bill.A woman ought t'unnerstan'—when a man's been out hustlin' all day, he wants good, warm, nourishin' food, an' he wants it quick.
Belle.Well, sir, you see, sir, if I'd known exactly what hour you'd be in, sir! How would a slice of bread strike you?
Bill.Hand it out!
Belle (gives him bread and he stuffs it. She sits on table.)Come here, Bill. You know, it looks nice, having you here. I had a little brother once.
Bill.Youse did?
Belle.I used to take care of him. If you're going to be a member of this family, I'll have to take care of you.
Bill.Watcher mean?
Belle.I used to wash the smut off his face before each meal.
Bill (disconcerted).Gee! Three times a day? Gawd a'mighty!
Belle.I'll pay you for it, Bill.
Bill.What'll youse pay?
Belle.Well, I wonder. A kid that's had a stepfather to beat him and no one to love him!(Puts her arm around him and kisses him gently on the cheek.)
Bill.Holy smoke!(Wonder and delight dawn on his face.)Say! I like that!
Belle.Then it's a bargain?
Bill.Sure! Put it there!(They shake hands.)Does it begin to-night?
Belle.No, I'm too tired to-night. We'll start out fresh in the morning. You must be tired too, Bill. You'd better go in and sleep.(Leads him Right.)
Bill.Say, Belle!
Belle.Well?
Bill.I like them kisses.
Belle (clasps him in her arms.)Poor little fellow!(Kisses him again.)
Bill.Gee, but this is like heaven!
Belle.Good-night, Bill.
Bill.Good-night.(Exit, closes door.)
Belle (returns, sinks to table with a moan of exhaustion; then hearing Jack coming, sits up, listens, gets herself together and pretends to be busy.)Hello, Jack.
Jack (enters).Well, Belle?
Belle.Did you get any work to-day?
Jack.Fine luck to-day. I made a quarter, helping to load a truck.
Belle.Is that all?
Jack.Better than nothing. How goes it with you, Belle?
Belle.Pretty well.
Jack.Only pretty well? Isn't the rest doing you good?
Belle.Some good, I think, Jack.
Jack.Say, Belle! Do you know, I think you were much better after that imaginary journey we took the other night. Let's take another.
Belle (looking up with a feeble smile).So soon?
Jack.I've got some more time-tables.
Belle.Where's it to be?
Jack.I'm tired of the Europe business. It takes so long, getting to Switzerland and Egypt. I believe in seeing America first.
Belle.Where shall we go? To Hoboken?
Jack.Stop laughing at me. We're going to Florida.(Draws up chair to table and spreads out R. R. folders and time-tables.)
Belle.Where do you get those?
Jack.At the ticket-office. They give them away.
Belle.With those lovely pictures! How nice of them!
Jack.Yes—isn't it! Now—here's the Atlantic Coast line. We leave New York at noon——
Belle.But it's night now, Jack.
Jack.I know—but we've already started.
Belle (studying folder).This train leaves New York three times.
Jack.That's the different ferries. Let's see. At 10 p. m. we've just got to Richmond. We reach Palm Beach at eleven in the evening——
Belle.What? A whole day on the train?
Jack.A day and a half, altogether.
Belle.Oh, Jack! What did you have to pay for the tickets.
Jack.I tell you, Belle, you must never worry about expense when you're travelling. It spoils all the pleasure. Now, let's see. We go to the Royal Palm Hotel. Here's a picture of it.
Belle.Oh, Jack! What a heavenly place!
Jack.Of course, they color it up rather bright in these advertisements.
Belle.Won't they charge us frightfully?
Jack.No, no. You can stay there for ten dollars a day.
Belle.Ten dollars a day! Jack, you don't mean that?
Jack.We can't expect to keep our expenses under that.
Belle.But that'll be thirty dollars, Jack! You know we've got Dolly with us. We can't travel alone.
Jack.No, no—to be sure.
Belle.Do people really spend money like that, Jack?
Jack.You get a lot for it, Belle. It's the loveliest place in the world. There are palm trees and flowers all the year round. It never snows, and it's seldom cold. There's a broad, white beach, and you lie and watch the green ocean, and the long white breakers rolling in, and the lines of pelicans flying just above them. And, oh, the nights! You'd think you could stretch out your hands and gather in armfuls of the stars!
Belle.Jack! How perfectly lovely!(Stares before her; a silence. Suddenly she buries her face in her arms on the table.)
Jack.Why Belle! What's the matter?
Belle.Oh, Jack! Jack!
Jack (in distress).What is it?
Belle.I don't think I like playing this game. I can't stand it any more!
Jack.Why not?
Belle.It's better you don't ask me, Jack.
Jack.But I want to know!
Belle.You have so many worries of your own.
Jack (gazes at her thoughtfully; then puts his hand upon hers).Belle, are you really as sick as all that?
Belle.I don't want to tell you, Jack.
Jack.Don't you think it's just that you're discouraged about your health?
Belle.I don't know. I try to persuade myself——
Jack.You must really not give up. You must believe me when I tell you that you are going to get well.
Belle.Jack, you're the best friend a girl ever had; but your saying so won't make me get well.
Jack.Listen. I have a sister. Once she got run down. She was more ill than you are, but now she's bright and happy.
Belle.Did she have to work all the time?
Jack.No, she went away to Florida. That's why I was telling you about it. I mean to send you—not just in play, but really.
Belle.How could I live in such an expensive place?
Jack.You don't have to stay in a hotel. You might live there for fifteen dollars a week.
Belle.But, Jack, I never earned fifteen dollars a week in my life.
Jack.You won't have to earn it. If you'll only wait a little while, I'll have it. If you'll only wait five months——
Belle.Jack, why do you always keep talking about the money you're going to have in five months?
Jack.I can't explain, Belle, but won't you believe me? I had a lot of money once, but I didn't appreciate it—I didn't realize what it meant. Now that I've got you, I can promise you I'll enjoy spending it. Believe me and be patient—only five months more.
Belle (smiles wanly).I'm afraid, Jack, in five months I'll be dead.
Jack (clutching her hand).No, no! Don't talk like that! You mustn't do it, Belle! We're going to save you—I tell you we are. We're going to make the fight together—we're not going to say die! It's too cruel—too wicked!
Belle.Jack, why do you take so much trouble with me?
Jack.I'm going to bring you through! I mean it! I'm going to get the money, and send you to Florida. Dolly shall go with you, and you shall live out on the beach—just as my sister did.
Belle.But, Jack—even if you had the money—how could I let you spend it on me?
Jack.You could—you couldn't help it, Belle. I would do it!
Belle.No, Jack, it wouldn't be decent.
Jack.To save your life?
Belle.No, not even to save my life.
Jack (tenderly).Belle, listen to me. I've got a right to save your life. Can't you understand? I want you to get well. I love you!
Belle (stares at him).Jack!
Jack.Yes, I love you!
Belle (sobs).Jack, Jack!(He clasps her in his arms; she weeps frantically.)
Jack.What is the matter? What is it?
Belle.Oh, Jack, why did you wait so long? Why didn't you come to me before it was too late?
Jack.Too late?
Belle.Why did you have to wait till I was dying? Oh, I can't bear it! You oughtn't to have told me! It's too cruel!
Jack.Belle, don't take on that way!
Belle.I tell you it's too late. Too late!(She sobs convulsively.)
Jack (in anguish).Belle! Belle! You mustn't give up like that! Listen to me, dear!
Belle.Wait! Wait! Don't talk to me!
Jack.You're exhausted, dear. Come—lie down.(He leads her off Right; speaks off.)There, lie and rest. Don't talk any more now.(Returns; speaks in entrance.)Be quiet, and see if you can't go to sleep!(He paces the room, muttering to himself.)No, I can't stand it. This is no joke. It's no part of the game. I must save Belle's life—I'd no right to wait this long.(With sudden resolution.)I'll write to Jessie. She'll come and help her. Bargain or no bargain, I'll write!(Vehemently.)You go to the devil, Bob—I don't care how much you tease me! Yes! Yes! The reality of life! I'm getting it all right. And I've got to knuckle down and take what teasing comes to me. My God, what a fool I was—what a drivelling fool! And I'll lose my quarter of a million! I don't care—I've got to save Belle! I'll write to-night!(Takes pencil and paper, sits at table and writes. The door Left opens softly, and Dolly appears, haggard and anxious.)
Dolly.You here! Where's Belle?
Jack.She's asleep.
Dolly.Jack. I've got to go away from here!
Jack.Go away!
Dolly.Yes. The police will be looking for me.
Jack.The police!
Dolly.I'm accused of stealing. Oh, don't think it—I didn't do it. Before God, I didn't!
Jack.Of course not, Dolly!
Dolly.I must go. I must take Belle with me!
Jack.But she can't go, Dolly! She's too ill.
Dolly.She'll be worse if she stays here and the police come for me.
Jack.Tell me about it, Dolly.
Dolly.No, no! I can't.
Jack.Why not?
Dolly.Don't ask me.(She stares about distractedly.)
Jack.May be I can help you.
Dolly.Nobody can help me—ever!
Jack.Dolly! Why should you hide anything from me?
Dolly.I can't bear to tell!
Jack.Why not?
Dolly.You'd despise me forever. Belle would despise me!
Jack.But that's impossible, Dolly.
Dolly (she stares into his face, then suddenly clutches his arm; in a hoarse whisper)I sold myself to save her!
Jack.My God!
Dolly.Ah, don't look at me like that. I told you not to ask me!
Jack (half frenzied).But Dolly; you don't understand!
Dolly.Understand what?
Jack.I've been living on your money!(They stare at each other.)
Dolly.Jack, don't do like that! You didn't know it!
Jack (covers his face with his hands).Oh, howdaredyou?
Dolly.Don't go on so! You know I couldn't help it. What else could we do? We hadn't a dollar in the house.(She catches him by the arm.)Don't be selfish, Jack!
Jack.Selfish!
Dolly.You're thinking of yourself—not of me and Belle.
Jack.When was it? To-night?
Dolly.This wasn't the first time. But it was always for Belle.
Jack (in a whisper).For Belle!
Dolly.I've worked till I was ready to drop. I've slaved day and night—but I couldn't make enough. And so, every now and then, I'd go to a house.
Jack.When did it begin!
Dolly.Nearly a year ago.
Jack.Belle has never guessed it?
Dolly.Good God! She would kill herself! Listen—I'll tell you the story. What does it matter now—you'll never see me again. It began in a department store—twelve dollars a week. Fine wages, with two to care for! It was slave—slave all day. Never a holiday, never a joy; nothing beautiful, nothing new! No hope, no future; just slave—slave! And there was a young man—what they call a gentleman. He took me to dinners, and I went, because I was near starving. In the end he got me, of course. And then he threw me over, and I went to work again. You see?
Jack.I see.
Dolly.After that it was worse. I was spoiled. But I was afraid Belle might suspect, so I kept straight for a long time. But it was no go. She was working herself to death—and I'd see her ill, and I couldn't stand it. I'd tell her I had a job in a hotel uptown. I'd be gone all night—and I'd bring her money. That's my life!
Jack (in a low voice).Are there many like that?
Dolly.The town is full of them. I know a girl who went to a church home. They said they couldn't help her—they were for 'fallen women.' She came back again and told them they could help her now—she was a fallen woman.
Jack.God!
Dolly.She was starving, that was what drove her. That's what drives thousands. And for that we're despised. The good women—they spit upon us! I sometimes wonder—do they think we like it?(Laughs harshly.)That a woman should like to give herself to any brute that comes along!(Seizing Jack by the arm.)Tell me! What does it mean? Whose sins do we pay for?
Jack.I don't know.
Dolly.If there's a God in heaven, how can he allow it? How can he allow some to be idle and rich, and to despise us who have nothing?
Jack.Tell me about to-night.
Dolly.I went to the old place. And there was a man—he was drunk, and he'd lost his money, and he said I'd robbed him. A servant gave me the tip—the madam had sent for the police. I dodged out by the basement way.
Jack.And they're after you?
Dolly.The man's a politician—some big man—and so they'll hunt me out. I'm a stranger, I've no friends, and they'll send me up for a year or two. I wouldn't care; I'm rotten—fit for nothing but the dump-heap. But there's Belle. She's straight, and I must keep her straight.
Jack.Yes, Dolly, we'll keep her straight.
Dolly.I never thought I'd trust another man, Jack. But I think you're decent. Mark this though!(Fiercely.)By the God above, if you ever do Belle any harm, Jack, I'll shoot you dead!
Jack.Dolly! Why talk to me that way? I love her. I've told her that I love her.
Dolly.You mean to marry her?
Jack.Of course.
Dolly (seizes his hand).Jack! And you'll be good to her?(Turns quickly, without waiting for answer.)We must get away from here!
Jack.Wait! Let me think. I know a place where they'll never find us.
Dolly.Where is it?
Jack.I'll take you to it. Get Belle ready.
Dolly.You're sure it's safe?
Jack.Absolutely. It might as well be in another world.(Dolly runs off Right to Belle. He paces the room, talking to himself.)I've got to give it up. I can't play with things like this. I've lost, I'll take my medicine. Only a month! Gee whiz!(With sudden realization.)Good-bye to my quarter of a million!
Bill (appears in doorway, yawning).Holy smoke! What's up?
Jack.We're going away.
Bill.Where to?
Jack.I can't tell you now.
Dolly (enters Right, supporting Belle).Come on, dear. Jack is going to take us with him.
Belle.But I'm too sick to go out.
Dolly.You must, dear.
Belle.I'm not dressed.
Jack.Get her hat and coat. Don't stop for anything else. Come on, Belle, I'll help you. We've no time to lose.(Puts arm about her and half carries her Left.)
Belle.Won't you tell me what's the matter?
Jack.I'm going to take you to some friends.(To Dolly.)We'll find a cab.
Dolly.No, they'd trace us!
Jack.Well, we can get to the subway, I suppose.(To Belle.)Dearest Belle—listen to me. I love you. And I'm going to make you well. I've been able to get money—all we need, heaps and heaps of it. And you're going to Florida. You'll be there in a few days—the very place my sister went to. Perhaps she'll go with you. So come! Come!(Exit, leading Belle.)
Dolly (hurries about, gathering Belle's wraps and her own).Where's your coat, boy?
Bill.Ain't got none. Say! What's this about Florida?
Dolly.I don't know.
Bill.Youse tryin' to cheer up Belle?
Dolly (gathering up her belongings in great haste).Maybe so.
Bill.Youse runnin' from that landlady?
Dolly.Don't ask me now.
Bill.Well, there's somethin' wrong, I know! Youse can't fool me!(Looks about.)Gee! I thought I had a home! And now I'm movin' out of it!(The lights fade slowly on the Play-play and rise on the Real-play.)
Will (in a whisper).Well?
Peggy (low).Oh, Will! That's the real stuff!
Will.You like it?
Peggy (with intensity).Yes, I do! It's real, it's true. Will, I think it'll go!
Will.You do?
Peggy.Yes, even with Broadway! It made me cry—and I'm a hardened old sinner.
Will.Oh, dearest, I'm so glad!
Peggy.I'm proud of you, Will!(Rises and puts her arms about him.)We've got a real Pot-boiler!(Sound of bell in Real-play Left. Play-play vanishes. Full light on the Real-play. A post-man's whistle off Left.)
Will.What's that?
Peggy.The post-man!
Will (leaping up).Maybe it's a check for the poem!
Peggy.Oh, yes!
Will.Where's the key to the letter-box?
Peggy (runs Right).Here, I think.(Searches about.)Here!(Brings him key.)Be quick!
Will (exit Left).I'll be quick!
Peggy (As Bill tosses and calls aloud in his sleep, goes to his bed, kneels and soothes him).Oh, my baby! My baby! You're not going to be sick! No, no, I can't stand that! Anything but that! I'll have to give it up! Will must give up trying to be a writer, and get some sort of paying job. Or I'll have to go on the stage again, and earn some real money——(Hearing Will returning, she leaps up and runs Left.)Was it the check?
Will (enters).Yes.
Peggy.For how much?
Will (in a voice of agony).Guesshow much?
Peggy.Tell me!
Will.Two-fifty.
Peggy.Two-fifty!
Will.Two dollars and a half!
Peggy.Great God!
Will (furiously).How do they expect a poet to live on two dollars and a half for a poem?
Peggy (hysterically).They don't expect poets to live! They don't care anything about poets! Poets are cheap!
Will (catches her by the arm, stares at her).Peggy! Peggy! This play has got to succeed! It's got to succeed! People have got to like it!
Peggy.Oh, Will. I hope they like it! I could get them by the throats and choke them until they promise to like it! I could fall down upon my knees and beg them to like it!(To audience, with intensity.)Don'tyou like it? Don't you like it? Tell us that you like it! Tell us!
(SCENE—The attic, the following afternoon. Scene of the Play-play is the drawing room, as in Act I.)
At rise: The Real-play, showing Will busy working on his Mss., Left. Peggy Right, putting Bill to sleep.
Peggy.Now, Mr. Bill, you're going to have a nice nap.
Bill.I feel better.
Peggy.I'm so glad to hear it. And Will's most through with his play, and then he'll take you to the park.
Bill.Say, Peggy!
Peggy.Now, go to sleep.
Bill.But say!
Peggy.Well?
Bill.I think I'm hungry.
Peggy.There's nothing in the house, dear.
Bill.No bread, Peggy?
Peggy.No, but we'll get some when you wake up.(Goes Left and sits by Will. Silence, while he works over papers. He is pale and haggard; she watches him anxiously.)
Will. (Leans on hands.)Oh, dear.
Peggy.Tired, Will?
Will.I'm getting a beastly headache.
Peggy.Will, you know you oughtn't to work when your stomach has quit like this.
Will.Hang my stomach!
Peggy.But, dear—
Will.Why do authors have to have stomachs? They're never of any use.
Peggy.Listen, Will. You can't do good work when you're so tired.
Will.I can do good work! You'll see it's good. I've nearly finished the fourth act now. Come, read it—and forget about my stomach.(She moves over to him. The Play-play begins to appear.)The scene is Dad's drawing-room again. Jessie is there; she's worrying about Jack, and Bob is trying to comfort her.(Full light on Play-play.)
Bob.He's all right, Jessie. Anybody'd think he'd gone to war!
Jessie.He was never away for so long before.
Bob.Don't I seem a fairly healthy specimen, Jessie?
Jessie.I suppose so, Bob.
Bob.Well, I've done what he's doing. I've done it for a year. And I survived.
Jessie.But you knew how, Bob.
Bob.I didn't when I started.
Jessie.It snowed last night; I lay awake till daybreak worrying about him.
Bob.My dear girl, men have got snow on their clothes before this.
Jessie.He's been gone a month!
Bob.Listen, Jessie! You know there's misery and suffering in the world, don't you?
Jessie.Yes, I suppose so.
Bob.And could you wish Jack to live all his life in indifference to such things—just idle and play, and spend the wealth that other people produce for him?
Jessie. (Clenching her hands.)Oh, if he'd only come home!(The telephone rings.)
Bob.I'll answer it.(Goes to phone.)Hello.(A pause; then exclaims.)Why, what's happened?(Another pause; he turns to Jessie.)It's Jack!
Jessie (leaps up.)Jack!
Bob.Ssh.(In phone.)Yes, what's that? What's the matter? Well, I declare! Sure, Jessie's here. Yes, Dad's upstairs. No, I won't tell him. Perhaps he won't. Hey? In two minutes? All right! Bye-bye!(Turns.)He's coming home!
Jessie.Bob!
Bob.He's around at the subway station. He'll be here in two minutes.
Jessie.But what's happened?
Bob.He wouldn't say. Just says he gives up—he's coming home.
Jessie.Thank Heaven!(A pause.)But Bob! What can it mean?
Bob.It means he's lost his wager.
Jessie.I don't care! He's coming home! Jack! Jack!(She dances and claps her hands.)Oh, I'm so happy! So happy!(The light begins to rise on the Real-play-enough to reveal Bill getting up from the cot. He looks about guiltily, climbs up to a shelf after a bowl. There is a crash. Instantly the Play-play vanishes.)
Will. (Starting.)What's that?
Peggy. (Leaps up and runs Right.)Bill!
Bill.Boo-hoo-hoo!
Peggy.What's the matter?
Bill.I didn't go to do it!
Peggy.But what—
Will.Didn't you know we were busy?
Bill.I-I was hungry!
Peggy.Poor Bill! Never mind, dear!(Clasps him in her arms.)There was nothing in the bowl.
Bill.I th-thought there might b-b-be.
Peggy.Never mind! Poor little fellow! He was hungry!
Bill.I couldn't sleep, Peggy.
Peggy.All right, never mind. We won't scold you. It doesn't matter about the old bowl—we've got nothing to put in it anyway. Now, don't cry—you'll get yourself all excited.(Sound of singing heard off Right.)
Bill.Oh! There's the Beggar-kid!(Runs to window.)Say, Peggy! Can't I go down and listen to him? I won't go off the steps, and I won't talk to anybody.
Peggy.You're sure you feel well enough?
Bill.I'll feel better, Peggy. Please! Please!
Peggy.You'll truly not go off the steps?
Bill.Word of honor, Peggy!
Peggy.All right, then.
Bill.Hooray! Now, I'll get the roses in my cheeks!(exit at door Left; Peggy closes window and sound of singing stops).
Peggy.It's a crime that child isn't in the country!
Will (drawing her to table).What do you think of my fourth act?
Peggy.Why dear, it's just as I said about Act One, you need more life in the scene, more variety and color.
Will.But how can it be got?
Peggy.I told you before—you must bring in Gladys.
Will.Gladys at this stage of the play?
Peggy.Of course! You're bringing home Belle, and you want a character contrast—the daughter of the tenements and the princess of the plutocracy. Gladys is still in love with Jack, and here he's coming home with another girl!
Will.Oh, Peggy, that's so cheap!
Peggy.Wait, Will—let me work it out for you. I can show you what I mean. Let me have your pencil.
Will (groans).Go on!
Peggy.See now—it's the same scene—(begins to write, Will reading over her shoulder. Play-play begins to appear).Only Gladys is pouring tea—
Will.Isn't that just like her! Always pouring tea!
Peggy.Shut up! There's Jessie and Bob. Gladys has her very finest society manner—she wouldn't for the world let anyone think that she was excited by the telephone-message.(full light on Play-play)
Gladys.Well, Jessie, I have had a most enjoyable evening. But I must be going now.
Jessie.What? When Jack is coming?
Gladys.Oh, would Jack want to see me? Surely not! No, I must really go.(rises and starts to door).Good-bye!
Will.You're not going to have her go off?
Peggy.Wait! Let me write!
Jessie (rises, runs and stops Gladys).No, dear! Please wait!
Gladys.What for?
Jessie.Do a favor for me, Gladys. I know Jack still loves you. I want you to stay here! I want you to hear it from his own lips. Let me hide you behind this screen(starts towards screen with her).When Jack comes in, I'll speak about you—
Will (vehemently).That won't do!(Gladys and Jessie stop.)
Peggy.Why not?
Will.It's rotten!
Peggy.But I want her to do it!(Gladys and Jessie start towards screen again.)
Will.I won't have it I say! It's undignified!
Peggy.Oh, don't be silly, Will!
Will.I say I won't have it! Let Gladys go on pouring tea!(Gladys starts towards tea table.)
Peggy.Let them hide, I say!(Gladys starts to screen.)
Will.Stop, I say!(Gladys stops, stands dazed and helpless.)
Peggy.Why can't you give me a chance to write?
Will.I can't stand it, I tell you!
Peggy.But I want to show you how it would go.
Will.I don't want to see it! I won't read such things!
Peggy.But if I'm to have Gladys at all—
Will.You can't have her! She's got no business in my play!(He leaps up in fury.)To hell with her, I say—to hell with her!(Gladys turns and flees off with a scream; the Play-play fades.)
Peggy.Will, dear,whymust you be so unreasonable?
Will.Now see, do you want to read what I've written, or don't you?
Peggy.Yes, dear, of course.
Will.Well then, drop this tomfoolery and go on!
Peggy (resignedly).All right, I'll do it.
Will.We've got that scene to finish. I've got a climax that isn't bad, I think. Jessie and Bob have just had the telephone-message.(Light begins to rise on the Play-play.)Jessie's dancing with happiness, but suddenly the thought comes to her, What will Dad say?(Full light on Play-play; Peggy and Will make secret exit.)
Jessie (in distress).Bob, do you suppose Dad will take Jack's money from him?
Bob.I don't know. It'll all depend.
Jessie.Oh, we mustn't allow it! It would be wicked! You go upstairs, Bob, and stay with Dad until I can find out what's happened.
Bob (rises).A good idea!
Jessie.Maybe I'll have to hide Jack until we can break the news.(As she speaks Dad appears in the doorway behind her.)You see, Bob, we must handle him carefully—he's an old man and he's liable to fly off, and we can't tell what he might do in a sudden rage. He's not really responsible, you know.
Dad (stepping forward).What's this?
Jessie (starting).Oh, Dad!
Dad.What's this you're trying to keep from me?
Jessie.Why—it wasn't from you, Dad.
Dad.Who was it from, hey? Answer me!
Jessie.Why—Dad—
Dad (raging).So I'm not really responsible! You have to handle me carefully, do you? What is it? Out with it.
Jessie.Why Dad—it's nothing—
Dad.I know better. Out with it!
Bob.Really, Dad—
Dad.Answer me!
Jessie.Why Dad—it's only that I've spent some money.
Dad.Spent some money!
Jessie.I've been buying clothes, and I was afraid when you saw the bills—
Dad.Where are the bills?
Jessie.I'll show them to you.
Dad.Where are they?
Jessie.Upstairs. Please don't scold me too much, Dad.(Starts to lead him off.)You see, I didn't realize at the time—
Dad.I know. That's always the way with my children. They never realize anything!
Jessie.It isn't so bad—(The front door bell rings, she starts.)Oh!
Dad.What's the matter?
Jessie.Nothing. Come on!
Dad.Wait till I see what this is.
Jessie.It's nothing, Dad.
Dad.How do you know it's nothing?
Jessie.I want to show you the bills.
Dad.Well, wait just a moment. The bills won't run away.
Jessie (aside to Bob).Lost!
Dad.Why, what's that? Isn't that Jack's voice? Why-why-good God!(Jack appears in doorway, with Belle on His arm, Dolly and Bill behind him. All stare.)
Jack (staggers to chair with Belle).Excuse me, please.(He proceeds to loosen Belle's coat, tears away her collar. She is half fainting.)Get me a glass of wine! Quick!(Bob obeys.)A fan, somebody!(Jessie seizes a newspaper and hands it to him. Dolly kneels at Belle's other side.)She'll be all right in a moment—she's exhausted. Ah! Better?(He rises and speaks swiftly, intensely.)You see what's the matter. The girl is ill; she's nearly dying. I had to get help for her.(To Bob.)You must excuse me, old man. I had to give up the wager. This was too much for me. You see—(Hesitates.)I guess you were right. I ran into the reality of life, and it floored me. You may kid me all you please, I'll take my medicine. But there was this girl—I had to come back, you see.(To Dad.)Excuse me, Dad, for making such a mess of it. But I couldn't punish this girl for my sins. I had to give up my quarter of a million, and save her life.
Dad.What's the matter with the girl?
Jack.She's been worked to death. Standing on her feet in a restaurant fourteen hours a day.
Jessie.Oh!
Jack.And you see, Jessie—I remembered how you'd gone to Florida and got well.(To the others.)Look at the difference! Look at the contrast between them. That was what knocked me out—I couldn't get away from it. I've got to send this girl to Florida and give her the same chance that Jessie had.
Jessie.Who is she?
Jack.She was a waitress. She helped me when I was starving. And now I have to help her. She's as good as gold, Jessie, and you must be kind to her. It wasn't fair that she should die, just because I'd been an idler, a good for nothing! Bob—you'll be satisfied when you know what a lesson I've had. You can't imagine how I feel, coming out of it—it's like escaping from a nightmare! I can't quite believe it's over.(He stands staring before him).And then I think—I've brought her out with me, but how many others I left behind me! Tens of thousands of others, down there in a pit! Belle, look at me! It was a bad dream, and now it's over! Here's my sister—see! She was as sick as you, and now, how well she is! Look at her cheeks—touch her—take her hand. And you shall be like that, you shall start for Florida right away! Can't you believe it, Dolly?
Dolly.It seems to me we've got some explanation coming to us, Jack.
Jack.Oh, I forgot. This is my sister. This is Dolly, Belle's sister, and this is Bill—a little news-boy who helped me when I was down and out.
Bill.Good evenin', ladies and gents.
Dolly.It was some kind of joke you played on us, Jack?
Jack.It was a wager I had made. I went out to shift for myself and see how I'd get along. I wasn't playing any joke on you, Dolly.
Dolly.It was a pretty poor joke on Belle, I think.
Jack.How do you mean?
Dolly.You promised you'd marry her!
Dad.What!
Jessie.Marry her!
Dolly.That's what he told her. Didn't you, Jack?
Jack.Why—I—
Dolly.It's all right, Jack—since's we've caught on in time.
Jack.No, no, don't misunderstand me. It was just that I didn't want to tell my family just yet.
Dad (starting forward).Why, you infernal jackass!
Jack.Dad—
Dad.You have the impudence to come here and tell me that you promised to marry a waitress in a restaurant!
Jack.Yes, Dad—-
Dad (raging).Are you mad? When you've just proven that you can't earn enough to fill your own belly? You come here whining for forgiveness, and then tell me you'll marry a girl of the streets—
Jessie.Dad! Stop!
Dolly.Excuse me, Jack—we'll get out of this.(Rises.)
Jessie.No—wait! Please, Dad—
Dad.Let her go! There's no place for her here.
Dolly.Come, Belle,(Lifts her.)
Jessie (Hysterically).Dad, how can you be so cruel?
Dad.Keep out of this, Jessie.
Jack.If they go, I go too, Dad.
Dad.Go, and good riddance to you.
Jack.If I go, I'll never return.
Dad.Has anybody asked you to?
Bob.Wait a minute, Dad.
Dad.Let me alone, Bob. I'll attend to this.
Jessie (rushing to Jack).Jack! Jack! Wait!
Dolly.Come on, Belle! This is no place for us!
Jack.I'll take her myself.(Exits left with Belle).
Jessie.Jack! Dad doesn't know what he's saying!
Dad.Who says I don't know what I'm saying? Who says I'm not responsible for my own acts? Who says I have to be handled carefully? I'll have you all understand—
Jessie (clutching Dad).Don't you see the girl's nearly dead?
Bill.I'll get out too(To Dad.)Say Mister—(Dad stares at him).You're worse'n my stepfather!(Exit with Dolly).
Jessie (hysterically).Dad! Dad! I beg you—have mercy.(Flings herself sobing upon him).
Bob.Really, Dad, you're treating him pretty badly!
Dad.I haven't asked your opinion, sir!
Bob.Well, I guess I'll go with him!
Dad.As you please, sir!(Bob exit. The Play-play begins to fade).
Will (in low voice).That's as far as I've done.(A pause.)It's near the end. What do you think of it?
Pegyy.Why, Will, you know what I told you before—
Will (in a voice of despair).That it's all wrong! That I don't know how to write a play. That I've got to do it all over!
Peggy.I never said that, Will. But I told you that you couldn't put an audience through all those harrowing adventures, and then pile an unhappy ending on top. You simply can't get away with such a proposition.
Will.But surely, I can't have this play end happily!
Peggy.Where's the law to prevent you?
Will.The law of truth prevents me.
Peggy.What do you mean? Couldn't Dad forgive Jack?
Will.No!
Peggy.Why not?
Will.Because Dad hasn't forgiven me.
Peggy.But Will, there are plenty of other Dads—and they aren't all so heartless. You'll simply have to choose another father for this play. You can't write for your own satisfaction—you've got to think about the box-office.
Will (leaping up and flinging out his hands).Oh, my God! The box-office! Have I got to slaughter my artistic instincts to feed the greed of a box-office? For God's sake, Peggy, take this play and write it to suit the taste of Broadway! Or shall I tear up the darned stuff?(Seizes Mss.)
Peggy (interfering).Will!
Will.I've got a play written, and you come and tell me to write another. And when I take it to the manager, he'll tell me to write a third. And his wife will read it, and I'll have to write a fourth! And then there's the stage-manager—perhaps he has a wife too! Who else, for the love of Mike?
Peggy (laughing).Why there's the star, and the leading lady—in this case you've got two actresses fighting for precedence, tearing each other's eyes out over the question of dressing-rooms. Then there's the press agent and the property-man, and the dramatic editors of a dozen newspapers, who'll tell you next morning exactly why your play fell flat.(Puts her arms about him.)Will, dear, don't be so impatient. Try to understand what I mean! Such a frightfully depressing ending—everybody in the play has lost everything!
Will.But that isn't so!
Peggy.Jack has lost his wager, and his quarter of a million dollars—and his home!
Will.But see what he's gained.
Peggy.What?
Will.In the first place wisdom, and in the second a wife.
Peggy.Few people in the audience know anything about wisdom, and everyone of them knows that he could buy a wife for less than a quarter of a million dollars.
Will.That's all very well—for a funny line. But there's many a man would give that much money to find a noble-hearted and faithful and loving woman, who would stand by him through all the trials of his life! I gave up more than a quarter of a million myself, and do you suppose it ever occurs to me to regret the bargain? Do you suppose I'd be willing to wipe you and Bill out of existence if I could get my money back?
Peggy (lays her hand, on his).Will, dear, that's very sweet of you, but it's not the same in your play. In the first place, Bill isn't Jack's child; and then Belle is dying. You see, you've told such a dreadful story—
Will (irritably).Don't tell me that all over again!
Peggy.Forgive me! You've got a headache, and you're worn out—we oughtn't to try to argue now. You simply can't get this play right while you're so over-wrought. Take a little time off, and rest and get a fresh view of it.
Will.But we'll starve to death in the meantime!
Peggy.No, dear, we needn't. Let me go and get a job to tide us over the trouble. So you can do your work without killing yourself—please, dear, please!
Will (in thought).Listen, Peggy. If we're going to make a break, I've thought of something better.
Peggy.What is it?
Will.I'll go and see Dad.
Peggy.Oh, Will, you couldn't do that!
Will.I've been thinking about it for the last three days. You see, putting him in the play has brought him back to my thoughts. I've shown him harsh and narrow—but still I realize that I love him. Perhaps he can't help it if he has a bad temper; and if he's stubborn—well, I've been as stubborn as he. I've waited all these years for him to come; and may be it was my place to make the first move. Now he's old—he can't last much longer; and if he died, I'd be sorry all my life that I hadn't been more generous to him. It isn't his money—after all, he's my father. If I have to humble myself somewhere, perhaps I ought to give him the first chance.(A pause.)What do you think?
Peggy.I don't know, Will. It couldn't do any harm, I suppose.(A pause).
Bill (pounds suddenly on door Left).Let me in!
Peggy (leaps up).What's the matter?
Bill (rushes in).Oh! Oh!
Will and Peggy.What is it?