Three plays and a curtain raiser

Contents

Page

Introduction

The plays in this vokime are in a sense an attempt to translate into terms of the stage a strip or two of reality. TERMS OF PEACE, although written before the present debacle in Europe, comes under this head. While it has been modified recently, it was first copyrighted in 1912. At that time an astute Broadway manager, after seriously considering a production, refused it because the conditions depicted were too far away. Now no doubt they are too near.

A combination of two ideas gave birth to THE WASTERS. One of these was furnished by Laurence Shubert of the well known theatrical family. Against a background of divorce and its effect on children with two houses to live in and no home, which I had long contemplated as the basis of a drama, I laid in Mr. Shubert's conception of tit for tat. Credit is therefore due him for suggesting that a play might be fashioned out of a brother seeking revenge in kind for an injury done his sister.

The Author.

authors' league

a'kolian building

new york city

CHARACTERS

Louis A Man about town

Fanchon

A truth-seeking young woman able to reason

from cause to effect.

Curiosity seekers, and a gendarme.

Scene — Interior of the Paris morgue. Entire rear of stage is encased in glass. Behind the glass are a half do^en suicides. These are :

AN ANARCHIST

A BEGGAR .

A BUSINESS MAN

A MIDINETTE

A BOULEVARDIER

THE WIFE

Fanchon is one of the morbid crowd moving from figure to figure that enters L. and exits R. A Sister of Charity enters and tells her beads in front of each figure as she moves slowly along. A Gendarme sits on a chair and searches his pocket for tobacco for his pipe. He finds it, and makes it obinous that he goes off to smoke.

Time — Early morning. Enter Louis R. He wears evening clothes, silk hat and overcoat. He carries a cane, and is quite tipsy.

Louis {Addressing no one in particular) — What hotel is this?

Passer-by — This is not a hotel, monsieur.

Louis — Strange {Comes dozvn). And I haven't been drinking more than usual. {Addresses a zvoman) What church is this? I always like to know the name of the saint that protects the church I pray in. {The woman moves away without speaking.) {Louis grabs a man by arm) What's the name of this church?

Man — This is not a church, monsieur.

Louis — No! You surprise me {The man breaks aiuay). Then it's a museum.

Man {Going up toivard figures) — It's not a museum either.

Louis {Looking at figures) — I have it. It's silent vaudeville. What an improvement ! I'll recommend this. {Fanchon moves near him) Pardon me, but can vou tell me the inventor of this inarticulate cabaret?

Fanchon — This is not a cabaret, monsieur. It is the morgue.

Louis — The two are not so far apart as you think. This is the real house of mirth. {With slight laugh) And these {Indicating figures) are all life's comedians grown tired of the applause.

Fanchon — Possibly, monsieur.

Louis — It's not merely possible. It's true. Are they here for good ?

Fanchon — No. Only until they are identified.

Louis — They sit there grinning at us until we discover what label they used among us, then we tuck them away and make room for more. In my opinion the government should freeze these and let them stay here permanently as a warning.

Fanchon — More room would have to be furnished for those who decided today that the Seine makes a nice bed.

Louis — But these would be here as horrible examples.

Fanchon — That wouldn't reduce the disenchantment with life. Then there's tomorrow's disenchantment to be reckoned with, and next week and next year's. A definite percentage of Paris' population goes out by the back door every day.

Louis {Soberly) — A definite percentage! You seem to have considered this subject very curiously.

Fanchon — You flatter me, monsieur.

Louis — Do I? Well, I didn't intend to. You see, a person that knows the arithmetic of disenchantment must be immune to anything so ordinary as a compliment.

Fanci-ion (Retreating as if offended) — Bon jour, monsieur, I only answered your questions.

Louis — Yes, that's right you did. Only you seem to have figured out the answers in advance. That's enough to make one lose his sense of humor. Do you lose yours in this place ?

Fanchon — I don't know, monsieur.

Louis — You come here often?

Fanchon — Yes.

Louis — Looking for some one?

Fanchon (Making it obvious that she is not taking him into her confidence) — Well, just to see the latest additions.

Louis — Mon Dieu, you never had a sense of humor to lose.

Fanchon (Going toivard R.) — Thank you — for nothing.

Louis (Follozving her, indifferent to her displeasure) — Do you know any of the guests? (Takes off hat and bows) Ladies and gentlemen, at your service.

Fanchon — I know all that I want to know.

Louis — Ah, indeed ! Before or after ?

Fanchon — Both. There's little new to be said about any of us after we kiss the lips of the one true democracy.

Louis — Do we all become so hopelessly and emphatically similar after we cross the border?

Fanchon — We don't become — we are. Nothing is being said that hasn't been said ; nothing is being done that hasn't been done. By the clothes a man wears, more than anything else, you can determine his life, what he thinks and what he is.

Louis — Well, my vocabulary in skirts, unfold me the private life of yon grizzly customer. (He indicates one of the figures.)

Fanchon {After glancing at figure) — Anarchist. A product of Montmartre tainted by philosophy just enough to keep from being a brawler. To prove his own individuahty he denied the individuality of everyone else that didn't thinlc as he did.

Louis — Right. Went to meetings nightly where the members practice their discourtesies on one another. {Goes up to figure) Bon jour, you quenched fire-brand! Are you a Syndicalist over there? Do you still screech for the proletariat that in your heart you despise? You turned your back on God. Now God turns his back on you !

Fanchon — Pardon, monsieur, you are showing heat. You are vindictive beyond the grave.

Louis {Comes down) — The enemies of our social order must be taught their place, living or dead.

Fanchon — That's why you would use God as a scourge?

Louis — When God ceases to be a scourge, he ceases to be God.

Fanchon — Indeed. Evidently your God is the creation of a moralist who needed help to inflict his morality.

Louis {Addressing another figure) — What do you think of that ? Is it true ? You know everything there is to know. You tore aside the veil. What's on the other side?

Fanchon— That fellow was a grocer. His desertion of life was not that he might pursue knowledge.

Louis — He looks as if his soul had the double chin of success. It is evident that he took a headlong plunge into the hereafter to escape the need of meeting himself face to face every morning.

Fanchon^ — Where do you think his double-chined soul is now ?

Louis — Haggling with Charon at the St3^x. He'll cheat the ferryman out of his fare.

Fanchon — Possibly trick him out of his boat and get a monopoly of the right of way.

Louis — When we go, we may be compelled to ride on the Styx Limited, and pay tribute to a corporation.

Fanchon — Old Cinquocento seems quite calm about it.

Louis — That's the cahnness of superior stupidity. Leave him to his ledgers. Do you know Celestin? (Indicating figure of girl.)

Fanciion (She shozvs that she is affected) — A little.

LouLS — She brought her smiles to market. Yes?

Fanciion (Sadly) — With few buyers at the end.

Louis (Addressing female figure) — Your face I have forgotten, ma belle, and I knew them all.

Fanchon — The river washed away the rouge that made recognition possible.

Louis (To figure) — You were no cloistered Venus. Neither fear nor reason held your emotions in check. What of those glances you hungered for? What of those nights inacarnadined — ? (Turns to Fanchon) Come to think of it, this sad-e3fed daughter of Joy was no better and no worse than every charming woman I have ever met.

Fanciion — Do you wish to compliment the dead or reflect on the living?

Louis — Merely state a truth. Like them she was graciously immoral without a feeling of guilt.

Fanchon — Ah, you are a student of the sex.

Louis — Just that. A student. At the end of my millionth reincarnation, Ell still be just a student. This much I do know : the more men any normal woman can be faithful to at one time, the happier she is.

Fanciion — Evidently you have made your investigations pay you in exact knowledge.

Louis — I wonder if Celestin found in her multiplicity of loves all the platitudes of marriage?

Fanchon — What do you think? You have had a great deal of experience.

Louis — That's why she's here. Having nothing left in life to be curious about, she put an end to it.

Fanchon (Showing that the talk about Celestin is more or less displeasing) — Do you consider the old gentleman interesting? (Indicating old man's figure.)

Louis — Looks as if he had a soft boiled intellect. (Makes a closer inspection.) Why he's the old beggar that used to stand near the bridge. Poor old devil, life had become to him just a dull headache on a noisy street.

Fanchon — He did well to stuff his ears with the cotton of oblivion.

Louis — I'm sorry to see him go — this way.

Fanchon — How like a man! The latch string of your sympathy is out for him. Why? Because as a beggar he was never possible as a rival. You could never imagine him robbing you of a kiss or taking the bread out of your mouth. In payment for his discretion you dole him out a tear.

Louis — Do you think you have me on the operating table searching for my soul with a scalpel ?

Fanchon — I have no curiosity about your soul. 1 know it too well.

Louis — When did it receive an introduction to you ?

Fanchon — When I first met your type. Your three meals a day, your bed, your coat, your hat, your habit of thought, your left-handed love affairs — how different are they from his? (Indicating figure of Boulevardier) Instead of waiting until Saturday as you are doing, he died on Monday and gained a whole week on eternity.

Louis (Looking closely at the figure) — I knew him. That is my friend Gilbert Goncourt.

Fanchon — You do know him !

Louis — And you?

Fanchon — Oh, yes. I knew him. We're all of a family here this morning. Gilbert found life a continual recurrence of minor idiocies.

Louis — Celestin might have been one of them.

Fanchon — She was.

Louis — Strange they should both be here at once. Was she his ?

Fanchon (Gloomily) — For a week, a month, a year. He plucked the blossom of her youth, then tossed her away.

Louis (Lightly) — Well, someone else would have plucked the blossom if he had overlooked the chance.

Fanchon — True, monsieur.

Louis — She had the laughter and the song.

Fanchon — ^The song, I remember, had a sob in it. The laughter — ! There was no laughter.

Louis — You knew her very well?

Fanchon — She was my sister.

Louis — Pardon me, but do you think this is the place to keep her on exhibition ?

Fanchon — How tender we are of our wrecks once we prove our success as wreckers. I kept her here until he should come.

Louis (Starting) — You knew he would come?

Fanchon — I did.

Louis — Perhaps you brought him to this?

Fanchon — He rushed headlong into it — our little Celestin here died because she couldn't satisfy desires for luxury he had cultivated in her.

Louis — At least he gave her one sip of the wine of life.

Fanchon — But the dregs were near the rim of the cup. He left her to gulp them while he went off to drink deep.

Louis — Of happiness with someone else. Did it ever strike you as odd that the joy water of existence must be taken in company?

Fanchon — The company this time had a triple veil on her face.

Louis — Ah! Literesting. Married, no doubt. (Turns to figure) Gilbert, you always were a rogue.

Fanchon — I was never able to penetrate her identity, but I learned that she Avas the wife of his best friend.

Louis (Laughing) — His best friend! Oh, Gilbert! You rascal, you carry your sense of humor beyond the grave. That's one of the finest things I've heard in a month.

Fanchon — That's the laughter that puts a halo on the head of Sin.

Louis — I agree with you. Sin needs a halo once in a while.

Fanchon — Do you know what his actions meant?

Louis — Assuredly, Happiness ! Stolen happiness, the sweetest. Think of all those kisses and caresses ! They belonged to someone else and he collected them. Oh, if you were only married ! What joy to hoodwink a stupid husband. All husbands are stupid.

Fanchon — I believe you.

Louis — I can see her going home — {Looks at figure of Boulevardier.) Oh, you rogue! She is quite sedate. Very gentle, very kind. Ah, much kinder than usual. There's an air of lassitude about her. She looks as if she were praying. The husband is sure that she is going in for charity, possibly religion. Oh, the clown ! What a joke on him!

Fanchon — Yes, monsieur, but it was a sad joke for me when I found my little Celestin here last night.

Louis — Oh, well, that's all in the game. I'd like to know that other one. Is she waiting for him at their rendezvous ? Perhaps the husband found him out. That's why he's here.

Fanchon — No, I found him out, monsieur.

Louis — I knew you had a hand in it, you kill- joy. What did you do?

Fanchon — Last night I left my little Celestin at the end of her journey, and went in search of the man who had started her on the road.

Louis — You're making a tragedy of nothing. Wasn't it better for her after all, this taste of life, than an eternity of thoroughly domesticated passion?

Fanchon — Be that as it may, I arrived at his hotel in time to see the woman of the triple veil enter.

Louis — The wife of his best friend !

Fanchon — I waited.

Louis — That was considerate of you. Nothing equals that first ten minutes of heaven — with the wife of your best friend.

Fanchon — Then I bought the services of an Apache that I knew. Together we dashed at the door of their room. I screamed for her to run as all was discovered. She jumped out of the window.

Louis — And Gilbert ?

Fanchon — I was one of a mob that chased him to the river. There was a splash. Here he is.

Louis — What a climax to such a tender romance! You have no mercy. Tell me, what became of the wife of his best friend?

Fanchon — ^The fall killed her. She is also here, monsieur.

Louis — Here! {Looks around) Where?

Fanchon {Points to female figure) — There she is.

Louis {Goes to figure) — It is possible that I may know her — good God, it's my wife.

Fanchon {Afraid) — Your wife!

Louis {Shakes fist at wife's figure) — Oh — you — to betray — {JFIe turns to Boulevardier) And you, you dog. You cur. You robbed me of everything worth while in my life.

Fanchon {Grimly) — Things look just a little different now.

Louis — ^They are different. {Goes to Fanchon) You are responsible for it all. I was going along with my eyes shut. Happy. We all have to keep our eyes shut to be happy. Then you came looking for justice and truth and morality. You broke into her life {Indicating Celestin), then into his {Indicating Boulevardier), then into hers {Indicating wife), and mine. Mine worst of all. But, by God, you're going to pay.

Fanchon {Trying to get past him) — Help!

Louis {Grasping her by throat) — Too late.

{Enter Gendarme and some of the crowd. They rush to Louis and seize him. Fanchon falls from his grasp. One of the crowd bends over her and feels her heart.)

Man — She is dead.

Louis — An addition to your collection, gentlemen. She was too moral for this world.

TERA/IS OF PEACE

TERMS OF PEACE CHARACTERS

John Stevenson

An American Millionaire, appointed delegate to the PEACE CONGRESS at the Hague.

Crandall Deposed delegate to the Congress

Carin Meredith With zvhom Stevenson is in love

Prince Soblov Russian delegate

Mannie Secretary to Stevenson

Pascual Assistant to Carin

Ming Servant

Von Holst German delegate to the Congress

Graham English delegate

Takahari Japanese delegate

Mrs. Pierson Carin' s sister

Delpiiine Mrs. Pierson' s daughter

Commandant, General, stretcher hearers, soldiers, etc.

Synopsis of Scenes ACT I

The first act takes place in the living room of the American Peace Mansion.

Act II

Act two takes place in the same room, next day.