The First Man
by
Eugene O'Neill
Part 1 out of 2
This etext was produced by Charles Franks, Robert Rowe and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
"THE FIRST MAN"
A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS
BY EUGENE O'NEILL
CHARACTERS
CURTIS JAYSON
MARTHA, his wife
JOHN JAYSON, his father, a banker
JOHN, JR., his brother
RICHARD, his brother
ESTHEE (MRS. MARK SHEFFIELD), his sister
LILY, his sister
MRS. DAVIDSON, his father's aunt
MARK SHEFFIELD, a lawyer
EMILY, JOHN JR.'S wife
RICHARD BIGELOW
A MAID
A TRAINED NURSE
TIME--The Present
SCENES
ACT I
Living-room in the house of CURTIS JAYSON, Bridgetown, Conn.--an
afternoon in early Fall.
ACT II
CURTIS' study--morning of the following day.
ACT III
The same--three o'clock in the morning of a day in early spring of
the next year.
ACT IV
Same as Act I--three days later.
ACT I
SCENE--Living-room of CURTIS JAYSON'S house in Bridgetown, Conn.
A large, comfortable room. On the left, an arm-chair, a big open
fireplace, a writing desk with chair in far left corner. On this
side there is also a door leading into CURTIS' study. In the rear,
center, a double doorway opening on the hall and the entryway.
Bookcases are built into the wall on both sides of this doorway.
In the far right corner, a grand piano. Three large windows
looking out on the lawn, and another arm-chair, front, are on this
right side of the room. Opposite the fireplace is a couch, facing
front. Opposite the windows on the right is a long table with
magazines, reading lamp, etc. Four chairs are grouped about the
table. The walls and ceiling are in a French gray color. A great
rug covers most of the hardwood floor.
It is around four o'clock of a fine afternoon in early fall.
As the curtain rises, MARTHA, CURTIS and BIGELOW are discovered.
MARTHA is a healthy, fine-looking woman of thirty-eight. She does
not appear this age for her strenuous life in the open has kept
her young and fresh. She possesses the frank, clear, direct
quality of outdoors, outspoken and generous. Her wavy hair is a
dark brown, her eyes blue-gray. CURTIS JAYSON is a tall, rangy,
broad-shouldered man of thirty-seven. While spare, his figure
has an appearance of rugged health, of great nervous strength held
in reserve. His square-jawed, large-featured face retains an eager
boyish enthusiasm in spite of its prevailing expression of
thoughtful, preoccupied aloofness. His crisp dark hair is graying
at the temples. EDWARD BIGELOW is a large, handsome man of thirty-
nine. His face shows culture and tolerance, a sense of humor, a
lazy unambitious contentment. CURTIS is reading an article in some
scientific periodical, seated by the table. MARTHA and BIGELOW are
sitting nearby, laughing and chatting.
BIGELOW--[Is talking with a comically worried but earnest air.] Do
you know, I'm getting so I'm actually afraid to leave them alone
with that governess. She's too romantic. I'll wager she's got a
whole book full of ghost stories, superstitions, and yellow-
journal horrors up her sleeve.
MARTHA--Oh, pooh! Don't go milling around for trouble. When I was
a kid I used to get fun out of my horrors.
BIGELOW--But I imagine you were more courageous than most of us.
MARTHA--Why?
BIGELOW--Well, Nevada--the Far West at that time--I should think a
child would have grown so accustomed to violent scenes--
MARTHA--[Smiling.] Oh, in the mining camps; but you don't suppose
my father lugged me along on his prospecting trips, do you? Why, I
never saw any rough scenes until I'd finished with school and went
to live with father in Goldfield.
BIGELOW--[Smiling.] And then you met Curt.
MARTHA--Yes--but I didn't mean he was a rough scene. He was very
mild even in those days. Do tell me what he was like at Cornell.
BIGELOW--A romanticist--and he still is!
MARTHA--[Pointing at CURTIS with gay mischief.] What! That sedate
man! Never!
CURTIS--[Looking up and smiling at them both affectionately--
lazily.] Don't mind him, Martha. He always was crazy.
BIGELOW--[To CURT--accusingly.] Why did you elect to take up
mining engineering at Cornell instead of a classical degree at the
Yale of your fathers and brothers? Because you had been reading
Bret Harte in prep. school and mistaken him for a modern realist.
You devoted four years to grooming yourself for another outcast of
Poker Flat. [MARTHA laughs.]
CURTIS--[Grinning.] It was you who were hypnotized by Harte--so
much so that his West of the past is still your blinded New
England-movie idea of the West at present. But go on. What next?
BIGELOW--Next? You get a job as engineer in that Goldfield mine--
but you are soon disillusioned by a laborious life where six-
shooters are as rare as nuggets. You try prospecting. You find
nothing but different varieties of pebbles. But it is necessary to
your nature to project romance into these stones, so you go in
strong for geology. As a geologist, you become a slave to the
Romance of the Rocks. It is but a step from that to anthropology--
the last romance of all. There you find yourself--because there is
no further to go. You win fame as the most proficient of young
skull-hunters--and wander over the face of the globe, digging up
bones like an old dog.
CURTIS--[With a laugh.] The man is mad, Martha.
BIGELOW--Mad! What an accusation to come from one who is even now
considering setting forth on a five-year excavating contest in
search of the remains of our gibbering ancestor, the First Man!
CURTIS--[With sudden seriousness.] I'm not considering it any
longer. I've decided to go.
MARTHA--[Starting--the hurt showing in her voice.] When did you
decide?
CURTIS--I only really came to a decision this morning. [With a
seriousness that forces BIGELOW'S interested attention.] It's a
case of got to go. It's a tremendous opportunity that it would be
a crime for me to neglect.
BIGELOW--And a big honor, too, isn't it, to be picked as a member
of such a large affair?
CURTIS--[With a smile.] I guess it's just that they want all the
men with considerable practical experience they can get. There are
bound to be hardships and they know I'm hardened to them. [Turning
to his wife with an affectionate smile.] We haven't roughed it in
the queer corners for the last ten years without knowing how it's
done, have we, Martha?
MARTHA--[Dully.] No, Curt.
CURTIS--[With an earnest enthusiasm.] And this expedition IS what
you call a large affair, Big. It's the largest thing of its kind
ever undertaken. The possibilities, from the standpoint of
anthropology, are limitless.
BIGELOW--[With a grin.] Aha! Now we come to the Missing Link!
CURTIS--[Frowning.] Darn your Barnum and Bailey circus lingo, Big.
This isn't a thing to mock at. I should think the origin of man
would be something that would appeal even to your hothouse
imagination. Modern science believes--knows--that Asia was the
first home of the human race. That's where we're going, to the
great Central Asian plateau north of the Himalayas.
BIGELOW--[More soberly.] And there you hope to dig up--our first
ancestor?
CURTIS--It's a chance in a million, but I believe we may, myself--
at least find authentic traces of him so that we can reconstruct
his life and habits. I was up in that country a lot while I was
mining advisor to the Chinese government--did some of my own work
on the side. The extraordinary results I obtained with the little
means at my disposal convinced me of the riches yet to be
uncovered. The First Man may be among them.
BIGELOW--[Turning to MARTHA.] And you were with him on that Asian
plateau?
MARTHA--Yes, I've always been with him.
CURTIS--You bet she has. [He goes over and puts his hand on his
wife's shoulder affectionately.] Martha's more efficient than a
whole staff of assistants and secretaries. She knows more about
what I'm doing than I do half the time. [He turns toward his
study.] Well, I guess I'll go in and work some.
MARTHA--[Quietly.] Do you need me now, Curt?
BIGELOW--[Starting up.] Yes, if you two want to work together, why
just shoo me--
CURTIS--[Puts both hands on his shoulders and forces him to his
seat again.] No. Sit down, Big. I don't need Martha now. [Coming
over to her, bends down and kisses her--rather mockingly.] I
couldn't deprive Big of an audience for his confessions of a fond
parent.
BIGELOW--Aha! Now it's you who are mocking at something you know
nothing about. [An awkward silence follows this remark.]
CURTIS--[Frowning.] I guess you're forgetting, aren't you, Big?
[He turns and walks into his study, closing the door gently behind
him.]
MARTHA--[After a pause--sadly.] Poor Curt.
BIGELOW--[Ashamed and confused.] I had forgotten--
MARTHA--The years have made me reconciled. They haven't Curt. [She
sighs--then turns to BIGELOW with a forced smile.] I suppose it's
hard for any of you back here to realize that Curt and I ever had
any children.
BIGELOW--[After a pause.] How old were they when--?
MARTHA--Three years and two--both girls. [She goes on sadly.] We
had a nice little house in Goldfield. [Forcing a smile.] We were
very respectable home folks then. The wandering came later, after--
It was a Sunday in winter when Curt and I had gone visiting some
friends. The nurse girl fell asleep--or something--and the
children sneaked out in their underclothes and played in the snow.
Pneumonia set in--and a week later they were both dead.
BIGELOW--[Shocked.] Good heavens!
MARTHA--We were real lunatics for a time. And then when we'd
calmed down enough to realize--how things stood with us--we swore
we'd never have children again--to steal away their memory. It
wasn't what you thought--romanticism--that set Curt wandering--
and me with him. It was a longing to lose ourselves--to forget. He
flung himself with all his power into every new study that
interested him. He couldn't keep still, mentally or bodily--and I
followed. He needed me--then--so dreadfully!
BIGELOW--And is it that keeps driving him on now?
MARTHA--Oh, no. He's found himself. His work has taken the place
of the children.
BIGELOW--And with you, too?
MARTHA--[With a wan smile.] Well, I've helped--all I could. His
work has me in it, I like to think--and I have him.
BIGELOW--[Shaking his head.] I think people are foolish to stand
by such an oath as you took--forever. [With a smile.] Children are
a great comfort in one's old age, I've tritely found.
MARTHA--[Smiling.] Old age!
BIGELOW--I'm knocking at the door of fatal forty.
MARTHA--[With forced gaiety.] You're not very tactful, I must say.
Don't you know I'm thirty-eight?
BIGELOW--[Gallantly.] A woman is as old as she looks. You're not
thirty yet.
MARTHA--[Laughing.] After that nice remark I'll have to forgive
you everything, won't I? [LILY JAYSON comes in from the rear. She
is a slender, rather pretty girl of twenty-five. The stamp of
college student is still very much about her. She rather insists
on a superior, intellectual air, is full of nervous, thwarted
energy. At the sight of them sitting on the couch together, her
eyebrows are raised.]
LILY--[Coming into the room--breezily.] Hello, Martha. Hello, Big.
[They both get up with answering "Hellos."] I walked right in
regardless. Hope I'm not interrupting.
MARTHA--Not at all.
LILY--[Sitting down by the table as MARTHA and BIGELOW resume
their seats on the lounge.] I must say it sounded serious. I heard
you tell Big you'd forgive him everything, Martha. [Dryly--with a
mocking glance at BIGELOW.] You're letting yourself in for a large
proposition.
BIGELOW--[Displeased but trying to smile it off.] The past is
never past for a dog with a bad name, eh, Lily? [LILY laughs.
BIGELOW gets up.] If you want to reward me for my truthfulness,
Mrs. Jayson, help me take the kids for an airing in the car. I
know it's an imposition but they've grown to expect you. [Glancing
at his watch.] By Jove, I'll have to run along. I'll get them and
then pick you up here. Is that all right?
MARTHA--Fine.
BIGELOW--I'll run, then. Good-by, Lily. [She nods. BIGELOW goes
out rear.]
MARTHA--[Cordially.] Come on over here, Lily.
LILY--[Sits on couch with MARTHA--after a pause--with a smile.]
You were forgetting, weren't you?
MARTHA--What?
LILY--That you'd invited all the family over here to tea this
afternoon. I'm the advance guard.
MARTHA--[Embarrassed.] So I was! How stupid!
LILY--[With an inquisitive glance at MARTHA'S face but with
studied carelessness.] Do you like Bigelow?
MARTHA--Yes, very much. And Curt thinks the world of him.
LILY--Oh, Curt is the last one to be bothered by anyone's morals.
Curt and I are the unconventional ones of the family. The trouble
with Bigelow, Martha, is that he was too careless to conceal his
sins--and that won't go down in this Philistine small town. You
have to hide and be a fellow hypocrite or they revenge themselves
on you. Bigelow didn't. He flaunted his love-affairs in everyone's
face. I used to admire him for it. No one exactly blamed him, in
their secret hearts. His wife was a terrible, straitlaced
creature. No man could have endured her. [Disgustedly.] After her
death he suddenly acquired a bad conscience. He'd never noticed
the children before. I'll bet he didn't even know their names. And
then, presto, he's about in our midst giving an imitation of a wet
hen with a brood of ducks. It's a bore, if you ask me.
MARTHA--[Flushing.] I think it's very fine of him.
LILY--[Shaking her head.] His reform is too sudden. He's joined
the hypocrites, I think.
MARTHA--I'm sure he's no hypocrite. When you see him with the
children--
LILY--Oh, I know he's a good actor. Lots of women have been in
love with him. [Then suddenly.] You won't be furious if I'm very,
very frank, will you, Martha?
MARTHA--[Surprised.] No, of course not, Lily.
LILY--Well, I'm the bearer of a message from the Jayson family.
MARTHA--[Astonished.] A message? For me?
LILY--Don't think that I have anything to do with it. I'm only a
Victor record of their misgivings. Shall I switch it going? Well,
then, father thinks, brother John and wife, sister Esther and
husband all think that you are unwisely intimate with this same
Bigelow.
MARTHA--[Stunned.] I? Unwisely intimate--? [Suddenly laughing with
amusement.] Well, you sure are funny people!
LILY--No, we're not funny. We'd be all right if we were. On the
contrary, we're very dull and deadly. Bigelow really has a
villainous rep. for philandering. But, of course, you didn't know
that.
MARTHA--[Beginning to feel resentful--coldly.] No, I didn't--and I
don't care to know it now.
LILY--[Calmly.] I told them you wouldn't relish their silly
advice. [In a very confidential, friendly tone.] Oh, I hate their
narrow small-town ethics as much as you do, Martha. I sympathize
with you, indeed I do. But I have to live with them and so, for
comfort's sake, I've had to make compromises. And you're going to
live in our midst from now on, aren't you? Well then, you'll have
to make compromises, too--if you want any peace.
MARTHA--But-compromises about what? [Forcing a laugh.] I refuse to
take it seriously. How anyone could think--it's too absurd.
LILY--What set them going was Big's being around such an awful lot
the weeks Curt was in New York, just after you'd settled down
here. You must acknowledge he was-very much present then, Martha.
MARTHA--But it was on account of his children. They were always
with him.
LILY--The town doesn't trust this sudden fond parenthood, Martha.
We've known him too long, you see.
MARTHA--But he's Curt's oldest and best friend.
LILY--We've found they always are.
MARTHA--[Springing to her feet--indignantly.] It's a case of evil
minds, it seems to me--and it would be extremely insulting if I
didn't have a sense of humor. [Resentfully.] You can tell your
family, that as far as I'm concerned, the town may--
LILY--Go to the devil. I knew you'd say that. Well, fight the good
fight. You have all my best wishes. [With a sigh.] I wish I had
something worth fighting for. Now that I'm through with college,
my occupation's gone. All I do is read book after book. The only
live people are the ones in books, I find, and the only live life.
MARTHA--[Immediately sympathetic.] You're lonely, that's what,
Lily.
LILY--[Drily.] Don't pity me, Martha--or I'll join the enemy.
MARTHA--I'm not. But I'd like to help you if I could. [After a
pause.] Have you ever thought of marrying?
LILY--[With a laugh.] Martha! How banal! The men I see are enough
to banish that thought if I ever had it.
MARTHA--Marriage isn't only the man. It's children. Wouldn't you
like to have children?
LILY--[Turning to her bluntly.] Wouldn't you?
MARTHA--[ Confused. ] But--Lily--
LILY--Oh, I know it wasn't practicable as long as you elected to
wander with Curt--but why not now when you've definitely settled
down here? I think that would solve things all round. If you could
present Father with a grandson, I'm sure he'd fall on your neck.
He feels piqued at the John and Esther families because they've
had a run of girls. A male Jayson! Aunt Davidson would weep with
joy. [Suddenly.] You're thirty-eight, aren't you, Martha?
MARTHA--Yes. LILY--Then why don't you--before it's too late?
[MARTHA, struggling with herself, does not answer. LILY goes on
slowly.] You won't want to tag along with Curt to the ends of the
earth forever, will you? [Curiously.] Wasn't that queer life like
any other? I mean, didn't it get to pall on you?
MARTHA--[As if confessing it reluctantly.] Yes--perhaps--in the
last two years.
LILY--[Decisively.] It's time for both of you to rest on your
laurels. Why can't Curt keep on with what he's doing now--stay
home and write his books?
MARTHA--Curt isn't that kind. The actual work--the romance of it--
that's his life.
LILY--But if he goes and you have to stay, you'll be lonesome--
[meaningly] alone.
MARTHA--Horribly. I don't know what I'll do.
LILY--Then why--why? Think, Martha. If Curt knew--that was to
happen--he'd want to stay here with you. I'm sure he would.
MARTHA--[Shaking her head sadly.] No. Curt has grown to dislike
children. They remind him of--ours that were taken. He adored
them so--he's never become reconciled.
LILY--If you confronted Curt with the actual fact, he'd be
reconciled soon enough, and happy in the bargain.
MARTHA--[Eagerly.] Do you really think so?
LILY--And you, Martha--I can tell from the way you've talked that
you'd like to.
MARTHA--[Excitedly.] Yes, I--I never thought I'd ever want to
again. For many years after they died I never once dreamed of it--
But lately--the last years--I've felt--and when we came to live
here--and I saw all around me--homes--and children, I--[She
hesitates as if ashamed at having confessed so much.]
LILY--[Putting an arm around her--affectionately.] I know.
[Vigorously.] You must, that's all there is to it! If you want my
advice, you go right ahead and don't tell Curt until it's a fact
he'll have to learn to like, willy-nilly. You'll find, in his
inmost heart, he'll be tickled to death.
MARTHA--[Forcing a smile.] Yes, I--I'll confess I thought of that.
In spite of my fear, I--I've--I mean--I--[She flushes in a shamed
confusion.]
LILY--[Looking at her searchingly.] Why, Martha, what--[Then
suddenly understanding--with excited pleasure.] Martha! I know! It
is so, isn't it? It is!
MARTHA--[In a whisper.] Yes.
LILY--[Kissing her affectionately.] You dear, you! [Then after a
pause.] How long have you known?
MARTHA--For over two months. [There is a ring from the front door
bell in the hall.]
LILY--[Jumping up.] I'll bet that's we Jaysons now. [She runs to
the door in the rear and looks down the hall to the right.] Yes,
it's Esther and husband and Aunt Davidson. [She comes back to
MARTHA laughing excitedly. The MAID is seen going to the door.]
The first wave of attack, Martha! Be brave! The Young Guard dies
but never surrenders!
MARTHA--[Displeased but forcing a smile.] You make me feel
terribly ill at ease when you put it that way, Lily. [She rises
now and goes to greet the visitors, who enter. MRS. DAVIDSON is
seventy-five years old--a thin, sinewy old lady, old-fashioned,
unbending and rigorous in manner. She is dressed aggressively in
the fashion of a bygone age. ESTHER is a stout, middle-aged woman
with the round, unmarked, sentimentally--contented face of one who
lives unthinkingly from day to day, sheltered in an assured
position in her little world. MARK, her husband, is a lean, tall,
stooping man of about forty-five. His long face is alert, shrewd,
cautious, full of the superficial craftiness of the lawyer mind.
MARTHA kisses the two women, shakes hands with MARK, uttering the
usual meaningless greetings in a forced tone. They reply in much
the same spirit. There is the buzz of this empty chatter while
MARTHA gets them seated. LILY stands looking on with a cynical
smile of amusement. MRS. DAVIDSON is in the chair at the end of
table, Ieft, ESTHER sits by MARTHA on couch, MARK in chair at
front of table.] Will you have tea now or shall we wait for the
others?
ESTHER--Let's wait. They ought to be here any moment.
LILY--[Maliciously.] Just think, Martha had forgotten you were
coming. She was going motoring with Bigelow. [There is a dead
silence at this--broken diplomatically by SHEFFIELD.]
SHEFFIELD--Where is Curt, Martha?
MARTHA--Hard at work in his study. I'm afraid he's there for the
day. SHEFFIELD--[Condescendingly.] Still plugging away at his
book, I suppose. Well, I hope it will be a big success.
LILY--[Irritated by his smugness.] As big a success as the brief
you're writing to restrain the citizens from preventing the
Traction Company robbing them, eh Mark? [Before anyone can reply,
she turns suddenly on her aunt who is sitting rigidly on her
chair, staring before her stonily like some old lady in a
daguerreotype--in a loud challenging tone.] You don't mind if I
smoke, Aunt? [She takes a cigarette out of case and lights it.]
ESTHER--[Smiling.] Lily!
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Fixes LILY with her stare--in a tone of
irrevocable decision.] We'll get you married, young lady, and that
very soon. What you need to bring you down to earth is a husband
and the responsibility of children. [Turning her glance to MARTHA,
a challenge in her question.] Every woman who is able should have
children. Don't you believe that, Martha Jayson? [She accentuates
the full name.]
MARTHA--[Taken aback for a moment but restraining her resentment--
gently. ] Yes, I do, Mrs. Davidson.
MES. DAVIDSON--[Seemingly placated by this reply--in a milder
tone.] You must call me aunt, my dear. [Meaningly.] All the
Jaysons do.
MARTHA--[Simply.] Thank you, aunt.
LILY--[As if all of this aroused her irritation--in a nervous
fuming.] Why don't the others come, darn 'em? I'm dying for my
tea. [The door from the study is opened and CURT appears. They all
greet him.]
CURTIS--[Absent-mindedly.] Hello, everybody. [Then with a
preoccupied air to MARTHA.] Martha, I don't want to interrupt you--
but--
MARTHA--[Getting up briskly.] You want my help?
CURTIS--[With the same absent-minded air.] Yes--not for long--just
a few notes before I forget them. [He goes back into the study.]
MARTHA--[Seemingly relieved by this interruption and glad of the
chance it gives to show them her importance to CURT.] You'll
excuse me for a few moments, all of you, won't you? [They all
nod.]
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Rather harshly.] Why doesn't Curt hire a
secretary? That is no work for his wife.
MARTHA--[Quietly.] A paid secretary could hardly give the sympathy
and understanding Curt needs, Mrs. Davidson. [Proudly.] And she
would have to study for years, as I have done, in order to take my
place. [To LILY.] If I am not here by the time the others arrive,
will you see about the tea, Lily--?
LILY--[Eagerly.] Sure. I love to serve drinks. If I were a man,
I'd be a bartender--in Mexico or Canada.
MARTHA--[Going toward the study.] I'll be with you again in a
minute, I hope. [She goes in and shuts the door behind her.]
ESTHER--[Pettishly.] Even people touched by a smattering of
science seem to get rude, don't they?
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Harshly.] I have heard much silly talk of this
being an age of free women, and I have always said it was
tommyrot. [Pointing to the study.] She is an example. She is more
of a slave to Curt's hobbies than any of my generation were to
anything but their children. [Still more harshly.] Where are her
children?
LILY--They died, Aunt, as children have a bad habit of doing.
[Then meaningly.] However, I wouldn't despair if I were you. [MRS.
DAVIDSON stares at her fixedly.]
ESTHER--[Betraying a sudden frightened jealousy.] What do you
mean, Lily? What are you so mysterious about? What did she say?
What--?
LILY--[Mockingly.] Mark, your frau seems to have me on the stand.
Can I refuse to answer? [There is a ring at the bell. LILY jumps
to her feet excitedly.] Here comes the rest of our Grand Fleet.
Now I'll have my tea. [She darts out to the hallway.]
ESTHER--[Shaking her head.] Goodness, Lily is trying on the
nerves. [JAYSON, his two sons, JOHN and DICK, and JOHN's wife,
EMILY, enter from hallway in rear. JAYSON, the father, is a short,
stout, bald-headed man of sixty. A typical, small-town, New
England best-family banker, reserved in pose, unobtrusively
important--a placid exterior hiding querulousness and a fussy
temper. JOHN JUNIOR is his father over again in appearance, but
pompous, obtrusive, purse-and-family-proud, extremely irritating
in his self-complacent air of authority, emptily assertive and
loud. He is about forty. RICHARD, the other brother, is a typical
young Casino and country club member, college-bred, good looking,
not unlikable. He has been an officer in the war and has not
forgotten it. EMILY, JOHN JR.'s wife, is one of those small,
mouse-like women who conceal beneath an outward aspect of gentle,
unprotected innocence a very active envy, a silly pride, and a
mean malice. The people in the room with the exception of MRS.
DAVIDSON rise to greet them. All exchange familiar, perfunctory
greetings. SHEFFIELD relinquishes his seat in front of the table
to JAYSON, going to the chair, right front, himself. JOHN and DICK
take the two chairs to the rear of table. EMILY joins ESTHER on
the couch and they whisper together excitedly, ESTHER doing most
of the talking. The men remain in uncomfortable silence for a
moment.]
DICK--[With gay mockery.] Well, the gang's all here. Looks like
the League of Nations. [Then with impatience.] Let's get down to
cases, folks. I want to know why I've been summoned here. I'm due
for tournament mixed-doubles at the Casino at five. Where's the
tea--and has Curt a stick in the cellar to put in it?
LILY--[Appearing in the doorway.] Here's tea--but no stick for
you, sot. [The MAID brings in tray with tea things.]
JOHN--[Heavily.] It seems it would be more to the point to inquire
where our hostess--
JAYSON--[Rousing himself again.] Yes. And where is Curt?
LILY--Working at his book. He called Martha to take notes on
something.
ESTHER--[With a trace of resentment.] She left us as if she were
glad of the excuse.
LILY--Stuff, Esther! She knows how much Curt depends on her--and
we don't.
EMILY--[In her quiet, lisping voice--with the most innocent air.]
Martha seems to be a model wife. [But there is some quality to the
way she says it that makes them all stare at her uneasily.]
LILY--[Insultingly.] How well you say what you don't mean, Emily!
Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! But I'm forgetting to do the honors.
Tea, everybody? [Without waiting for any answer.] Tea, everybody!
[The tea is served.]
JAYSON--[Impatiently.] Stop fooling, Lily. Let's get to our
muttons. Did you talk with Martha?
LILY--[Briskly.] I did, sir.
JAYSON--[In a lowered voice.] What did she say?
LILY--She said you could all go to the devil! [They all look
shocked and insulted. LILY enjoys this, then adds quietly.] Oh,
not in those words. Martha is a perfect lady. But she made it
plain she will thank you to mind your own business.
ESTHER--[Volubly.] And just imagine, she'd even forgotten she'd
asked us here this afternoon and was going motoring with Bigelow.
LILY--With his three children, too, don't forget.
EMILY--[Softly.] They have become such well-behaved and
intelligent children, they say. [Again all the others hesitate,
staring at her suspiciously.]
LILY--[Sharply.] You'd better let Martha train yours for a while,
Emily. I'm sure she'd improve their manners--though, of course,
she couldn't give them any intelligence.
EMILY--[With the pathos of outraged innocence.] Oh!
DICK--[Interrupting.] So it's Bigelow you're up in the air about?
[He gives a low whistle--then frowns angrily.] The deuce you say!
LILY--[Mockingly.] Look at our soldier boy home from the wars
getting serious about the family honor! It's too bad this is a
rough, untutored country where they don't permit dueling, isn't
it, Dick?
DICK--[His pose crumbling--angrily.] Go to the devil!
SHEFFIELD--[With a calm, judicious air.] This wrangling is getting
us nowhere. You say she was resentful about our well-meant word to
the wise? JAYSON--[Testily.] Surely she must realize that some
consideration is due the position she occupies in Bridgetown as
Curt's wife.
LILY--Martha is properly unimpressed by big frogs in tiny puddles.
And there you are.
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Outraged.] The idea! She takes a lot upon herself--
the daughter of a Wild Western coal-miner.
LILY--[Mockingly.] Gold miner, Aunt.
MRS. DAVIDSON--It makes no difference--a common miner! SHEFFIELD--
[Keenly inquisitive.] Just before the others came, Lily, you gave
out some hints--very definite hints, I should say--
ESTHER--[Excitedly.] Yes, you did, Lily. What did you mean?
LILY--[Uncertainly.] Perhaps I shouldn't have. It's not my secret.
[Enjoying herself immensely now that she holds the spotlight--
after a pause, in a stage whisper.] Shall I tell you? Yes, I can't
help telling. Well, Martha is going to have a son. [They are all
stunned and flabbergasted and stare at her speechlessly.]
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Her face lighting up--joyously.] A son! Curt's
son!
JAYSON--[Pleased by the idea but bewildered.] A son?
DICK--[Smartly.] Lily's kidding you. How can she know it's a son--
unless she's a clairvoyant.
ESTHER--[With glad relief.] Yes, how stupid!
LILY--I am clairvoyant in this case. Allah is great and it will be
a son--if only to make you and Emily burst with envy among your
daughters.
ESTHER--Lily!
EMILY--Oh!
JAYSON--[Testily.] Keep still for a moment, Lily, for God's sake.
This is no subject to joke about, remember.
LILY--Martha told me. I know that.
JAYSON--And does Curt know this?
LILY--No, not yet. Martha has been afraid to tell him.
JAYSON--Ah, that explains matters. You know I asked Curt some time
ago--and he said it was impossible.
EMILY--[With a lift of her eyebrows.] Impossible? Why, what a
funny thing to say.
SHEFFIELD--[Keenly lawyer-like.] And why is Martha afraid to tell
him, Lily?
LILY--It's all very simple. When the two died years ago, they said
they would never have one again. Martha thinks Curt is still
haunted by their memory and is afraid he will resent another as an
intruder. I told her that was all foolishness--that a child was
the one thing to make Curt settle down for good at home here and
write his books.
JAYSON--[Eagerly.] Yes, I believe that myself. [Pleased.] Well,
this is fine news.
EMILY--Still it was her duty to tell Curt, don't you think? I
don't see how she could be afraid of Curt--for those reasons.
[They all stare at her.]
ESTHER--[Resentfully.] I don't, either. Why, Curt's the biggest-
hearted and kindest--
EMILY--I wonder how long she's known--this?
LILY--[Sharply.] Two months, she said.
EMILY--Two months? [She lets this sink in.]
JOHN--[Quickly scenting something--eagerly.] What do you mean,
Emily? [Then as if he read her mind.] Two months? But before that--
Curt was away in New York almost a month!
LILY--[Turning on EMILY fiercely.] So! You got someone to say it
for you as you always do, Poison Mind! Oh, I wish the ducking
stool had never been abolished!
EMILY--[Growing crimson--falteringly.] I--I didn't mean--
JOHN--[Furiously.] Where the honor of the family is at stake--
LILY--[Fiercely.] Ssshh, you empty barrel! I think I hear--[The
door from the study is opened and MARTHA comes in in the midst of
a heavy silence. All the gentlemen rise stiffly. MARTHA is made
immediately self-conscious and resentful by the feeling that they
have been discussing her unfavorably.]
MARTHA--[Coming forward--with a forced cordiality.] How do you do,
everybody? So sorry I wasn't here when you came. I hope Lily made
proper excuses for me. [She goes from one to the other of the four
latest comers with "So glad you came," etc. They reply formally
and perfunctorily. MARTHA finally finds a seat on the couch
between EMILY and ESTHER.] I hope Lily--but I see you've all had
tea.
LILY--[Trying to save the situation--gayly.] Yes. You can trust me
as understudy for the part of hostess any time.
MARTHA--[Forcing a smile.] Well, I'm glad to know I wasn't missed.
EMILY--[Sweetly.] We were talking about you--at least, we were
listening to Lily talk about you.
MARTHA--[Stiffening defensively.] About me?
EMILY--Yes--about how devoted you were to Curt's work. [LILY gives
her a venomous glance of scorn.]
MARTHA--[Pleased but inwardly uneasy.] Oh, but you see I consider
it my work, too, I've helped him with it so long now.
JAYSON--[In a forced tone.] And how is Curt's book coming, Martha?
MARTHA--[More and more stung by their strained attitudes and
inquisitive glances. Coldly and cuttingly.] Finely, thank you. The
book will cause quite a stir, I believe. It will make the name of
Jayson famous in the big world outside of Bridgetown.
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Indignantly.] The name of Jayson has been--
JAYSON--[Pleadingly.] Aunt Elizabeth!
LILY--Aunt means it's world famous already, Martha. [Pointing to
the sullen JOHN.] John was once a substitute on the Yale Freshman
soccer team, you know. If it wasn't for his weak shins he would
have made the team, fancy!
DICK--[This tickles his sense of humor and he bursts into
laughter.] Lily wins! [As his brother glares at him--looking at
his watch.] Heavens, I'll have to hustle! [Gets to his feet.] I'm
due at the Casino. [Comes and shakes MARTHA's hand formally.] I'm
sorry I can't stay.
MARTHA--So glad you came. Do come in again any time. We keep open
house, you know--Western fashion. [She accentuates this.]
DICK--[Hurriedly.] Delighted to. [He starts for the door in rear.]
LILY--[As if suddenly making up her mind.] Wait a second! I'm
coming with you--
DICK--Sure thing--only hurry, darn you! [He goes out.]
LILY--[Stops at the door in rear and catching MARTHA's eye, looks
meaningly at the others.] Phew! I need fresh air! [She makes an
encouraging motion as if pummeling someone to MARTHA, indicating
her assembled family as the victim--then goes out laughing. A
motor is heard starting--running off.]
ESTHER--[With a huge sigh of relief.] Thank goodness, she's gone.
What a vixen! What would you do if you had a sister like that,
Martha?
MARTHA--I'd love her--and try to understand her.
SHEFFIELD--[Meaningly.] She's a bad ally to rely on--this side of
the fence one day, and that the next.
MARTHA--Is that why you advised her to become a lawyer, Mr.
Sheffield?
SHEFFIELD--[Stung, but maintaining an unruffled front.] Now, now,
that remark must be catalogued as catty.
MARTHA--[Defiantly.] It seems to be in the Bridgetown atmosphere.
I never was--not the least bit--in the open air.
JAYSON--[Conciliatingly.] Oh, Bridgetown isn't so bad, Martha,
once you get used to us.
JOHN--It's one of the most prosperous and wealthy towns in the
U.S.--and that means in the world, nowadays.
EMILY--[With her sugary smile.] That isn't what Martha means, you
silly. I know what she's thinking about us, and I'm not sure that
I don't agree with her--partly. She feels that we're so awfully
strict--about certain things. It must be so different in the Far
West--I suppose--so much freer.
MARTHA--[Acidly.] Then you believe broad-mindedness and clean
thinking are a question of locality? I can't agree with you. I
know nothing of the present Far West, not having lived there for
ten years, but Curt and I have lived in the Far East and I'm sure
he'd agree with me in saying that Chinese ancestor worship is far
more dignified than ours. After all, you know, theirs is religion,
not snobbery. [There is a loud honking of an auto horn before the
house. MARTHA starts, seems to come to a quick decision, and
announces with studied carelessness.] That must be Mr. Bigelow. I
suppose Lily told you I had an engagement to go motoring with him.
So sorry I must leave. But I'm like Lily. I need fresh air. [She
walks to the study door as she is talking.] I'll call Curt. [She
raps loudly on the door and calls.] Curt! Come out! It's
important. [She turns and goes to the door, smiling fixedly.]
He'll be out when he's through swearing. [She goes out, rear.]
JOHN--[Exploding.] Well, of all the damned cheek!
ESTHER--She shows her breeding, I must say.
EMILY--[With horror.] Oh, how rude--and insulting.
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Rising rigidly to her feet.] I will never set foot
in this house again! JAYSON--[Jumping up to restrain her--
worriedly.] Now, Aunt Elizabeth, do keep your head! We must have
no scandal of any sort. Remember there are servants about. Do sit
down. [The old lady refuses in stubborn silence.]
SHEFFIELD--[Judiciously.] One must make allowances for one in her
condition, Aunt.
JAYSON--[Snatching at this.] Exactly. Remember her condition. Aunt
[testily] and do sit down. [The old lady plumps herself down again
angrily.]
EMILY--[In her lisp of hidden meanings.] Yes, the family mustn't
forget--her condition. [The door from the study is opened and CURT
appears. His face shows his annoyance at being interrupted, his
eyes are preoccupied. They all turn and greet him embarrassedly.
He nods silently and comes slowly down front.]
CURTIS--[Looking around.] Where's Martha? What's the important
thing she called me out for?
ESTHER--[Forcing gaiety.] To play host, you big bear, you! Don't
you think we came to see you, too? Sit down here and be good. [He
sits on sofa.]
EMILY--[Softly.] Martha had to leave us to go motoring with Mr.
Bigelow.
ESTHER--[Hastily.] And the three children.
CURTIS--[Frowning grumpily.] Hm! Big and his eternal kids. [He
sighs. They exchange meaning glances. CURT seems to feel ashamed
of his grumpiness and tries to fling it off--with a cheerful
smile.] But what the deuce! I must be getting selfish to grudge
Martha her bit of fresh air. You don't know what it means to
outdoor animals like us to be pent up. [He springs to his feet and
paces back and forth nervously.] We're used to living with the sky
for a roof--[Then interestedly.] Did Martha tell you I'd
definitely decided to go on the five year Asian expedition?
ESTHER--Curt! You're not!
EMILY--And leave Martha here--all alone--for five years?
JAYSON--Yes, you can't take Martha with you this time, you know.
CURTIS--[With a laugh.] No? What makes you so sure of that? [As
they look mystified, he continues confidentially.] I'll let you in
on the secret--only you must all promise not to breathe a word to
Martha--until to-morrow. To-morrow is her birthday, you know, and
this is a surprise I've saved for her. [They all nod.] I've been
intriguing my damnedest for the past month to get permission for
Martha to go with me. It was difficult because women are supposed
to be barred. [Happily.] But I've succeeded. The letter came this
morning. How tickled to death she'll be when she hears! I know
she's given up hope. [Thoughtfully.] I suppose it's that has been
making her act so out-of-sorts lately.
JAYSON--[Worriedly.] Hmm! But would you persist in going--alone--
if you knew it was impossible for her--?
CURTIS--[Frowning.] I can't imagine it without her. You people
can't have any idea what a help--a chum--she's been. You can't
believe that a woman could be--so much that--in a life of that
kind--how I've grown to depend on her. The thousand details--she
attends to them all. She remembers everything. Why, I'd be lost. I
wouldn't know how to start. [With a laugh.] I know this sounds
like a confession of weakness but it's true just the same.
[Frowning again.] However, naturally my work must always be the
first consideration. Yes, absolutely! [Then with glad relief.] But
what's the use of rambling on this way? We can both go, thank
heaven!
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Sternly.] No. SHE cannot go. And it is YOUR duty--
CURTIS--[Interrupting her with a trace of impatience.] Oh, come!
That's all nonsense, Aunt. You don't understand the kind of woman
Martha is.
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Harshly.] The women I understand prefer rearing
their children to selfish gallivanting over the world.
CURTIS--[Impatiently.] But we have no children now, Aunt.
MRS. DAVIDSON--I know that, more's the pity. But later--
CURTIS--[Emphatically.] No, I tell you! It's impossible!
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Grimly.] I have said my last word. Go your own
road and work your own ruin.
CURTIS--[Brusquely.] I think I'll change my togs and go for a
walk. Excuse me for a second. I'll be right down again. [He goes
out, rear.]
EMILY--[With her false air of innocence.] Curt acts so funny,
doesn't he? Did you notice how emphatic he was about its being
impossible? And he said Martha seemed to him to be acting queer
lately--with him, I suppose he meant.
ESTHER--He certainly appeared put out when he heard she'd gone
motoring with Big.
JAYSON--[Moodily.] This dislike of the very mention of children.
It isn't like Curt, not a bit.
JOHN--There's something rotten in Denmark somewhere. This family
will yet live to regret having accepted a stranger--
SHEFFIELD--[Mollifyingly--with a judicial air.] Come now! This is
all only suspicion. There is no evidence; you have no case; and
the defendant is innocent until you have proved her guilty,
remember. [Getting to his feet.] Well, let's break up. Esther, you
and I ought to be getting home. [They all rise.]
JAYSON--[Testily.] Well, if I were sure it would all blow over
without any open scandal, I'd offer up a prayer of thanks. [The
Curtain Falls]
ACT II
SCENE--CURTIS JAYSON'S study. On the left, forward, a gun rack in
which are displayed several varieties of rifles and shotguns.
Farther back, three windows looking out on the garden. In the rear
wall, an open fireplace with two leather arm-chairs in front of
it. To right of fireplace, a door leading into the living-room. In
the far right corner, another chair. In the right wall, three
windows looking out on the lawn and garden. On this side, front, a
typewriting table with machine and chair. Opposite the windows on
the right, a bulky leather couch, facing front. In front of the
windows on the left, a long table with stacks of paper piled here
and there on it, reference books, etc. On the left of table, a
swivel chair. Gray oak bookcases are built into the cream rough
plaster walls which are otherwise almost hidden from view by a
collection of all sorts of hunter's trophies, animal heads of all
kinds. The floor is covered with animal skins--tiger, polar bear,
leopard, lion, etc. Skins are also thrown over the backs of the
chairs. The sections of the bookcase not occupied by scientific
volumes have been turned into a specimen case for all sorts of
zoological, geological, anthropological oddities.
It is mid-morning, sunny and bright, of the following day.
CURTIS and BIGELOW are discovered. CURTIS is half-sitting on the
corner of the table, left, smoking a pipe. BIGELOW is lying
sprawled on the couch. Through the open windows on the right come
the shouts of children playing. MARTHA's voice joins in with
theirs.
BIGELOW--Listen to that rumpus, will you! The kids are having the
time of their lives. [He goes to the window and looks out--
delightedly.] Your wife is playing hide and seek with them. Come
and look.
CURTIS--[With a trace of annoyance.] Oh, I can see well enough
from here.
BIGELOW--[With a laugh.] She seems to get as much fun out of it as
they do. [As a shriek comes from outside--excitedly.] Ah, Eddy
discovered her behind the tree. Isn't he tickled now! [He turns
back from the window and lights a cigarette--enthusiastically.]
Jove, what a hand she is with children!
CURTIS--[As if the subject bored him.] Oh, Martha gets along well
with anyone.
BIGELOW--[Sits on the couch again--with a sceptical smile.] You
think so? With everyone?
CURTIS--[Surprised.] Yes--with everyone we've ever come in contact
with--even aboriginal natives.
BIGELOW--With the aboriginal natives of Bridgetown? With the well-
known Jayson family, for example?
CURTIS--[Getting to his feet--frowning.] Why, everything's all
right between Martha and them, isn't it? What do you mean, Big? I
certainly imagined--but I'll confess this damn book has had me so
preoccupied--
BIGELOW--Too darn preoccupied, if you'll pardon my saying so. It's
not fair to leave her to fight it alone.
CURTIS--[Impatiently.] Fight what? Martha has a sense of humor.
I'm sure their petty prejudices merely amuse her.
BIGELOW--[Sententiously.] A mosquito is a ridiculous, amusing
creature, seen under a microscope; but when a swarm has been
stinging you all night--
CURTIS--[A broad grin coming over his face.] You speak from
experience, eh?
BIGELOW--[Smiling.] You bet I do. Touch me anywhere and you'll
find a bite. This, my native town, did me the honor of devoting
its entire leisure attention for years to stinging me to death.
CURTIS--Well, if I am to believe one-tenth of the family letters I
used to receive on the subject of my old friend, Bigelow, they
sure had just cause.
BIGELOW--Oh, I'll play fair. I'll admit they did--then. But it's
exasperating to know they never give you credit for changing--I
almost said, reforming, One ought to be above the gossip of a town
like this--but say what you like, it does get under your skin.
CURTIS--[With an indulgent smile.] So you'd like to be known as a
reformed character, eh?
BIGELOW--[Rather ruefully.] Et tu! Your tone is sceptical. But I
swear to you, Curt, I'm an absolutely new man since my wife's
death, since I've grown to love the children. Before that I hardly
knew them. They were hers, not mine, it seemed. [His face lighting
up.] Now we're the best of pals, and I've commenced to appreciate
life from a different angle. I've found a career at last--the
children--the finest career a man could have, I believe.
CURTIS--[Indifferently.] Yes, I suppose so--if you're made that
way.
BIGELOW--Meaning you're not?
CURTIS--Not any more. [Frowning.] I tried that once.
BIGELOW--[After a pause--with a smile.] But we're wandering from
the subject of Martha versus the mosquitoes.
CURTIS--[With a short laugh.] Oh, to the deuce with that! Trust
Martha to take care of herself. Besides, I'll have her out of this
stagnant hole before so very long--six months, to be exact.
BIGELOW--Where do you think of settling her then?
CURTIS--No settling about it. I'm going to take her with me.
BIGELOW--[Surprised.] On the Asian expedition?
CURTIS--Yes. I haven't told her yet but I'm going to to-day. It's
her birthday--and I've been saving the news to surprise her with.
BIGELOW--Her birthday? I wish the children and I had known--but
it's not too late yet.
CURTIS--[With a grin.] Thirty-nine candles, if you're thinking of
baking a cake!
BIGELOW--[Meaningly.] That's not old--but it's not young either,
Curt.
CURTIS--[Disgustedly.] You talk like an old woman, Big. What have
years to do with it? Martha is young in spirit and always will be.
[There is a knock at the door and MARTHA's voice calling: "May I
come in, people?"] Sure thing! [BIGELOW jumps to open the door and
MARTHA enters. She is flushed, excited, full of the joy of life,
panting from her exertions.]
MARTHA--[Laughing.] I've had to run away and leave them with the
governess. They're too active for me. [She throws herself on the
couch.] Phew! I'm all tired out. I must be getting old.
CURTIS--[With a grin.] Big was just this minute remarking that,
Martha. [BIGELOW looks embarrassed.]
MARTHA--[Laughing at him.] Well, I declare! Of all the horrid
things to hear--
BIGELOW--[Still embarrassed but forcing a joking tone.] He--
prevaricates, Mrs. Jayson.
MARTHA--There now, Curt! I'm sure it was you who said it. It
sounds just like one of your horrid facts.
BIGELOW--And how can I offer my felicitations now? But I do,
despite your husband's calumny. May your shadow never grow less!
MARTHA--Thank you. [She shakes his proffered hand heartily.]
BIGELOW--And now I'll collect my flock and go home.
CURTIS--So long, Big. Be sure you don't mislay one of your heirs!
BIGELOW--No fear--but they might mislay me. [He goes. CURT sits
down on couch. MARTHA goes to the window right, and looks out--
after a pause, waving her hand.]
MARTHA--There they go. What darlings they are! [CURTIS grunts
perfunctorily. MARTHA comes back and sits beside CURT on the
couch--with a sigh.] Whoever did say it was right, Curt, I am
getting old.
CURTIS--[Taking one of her hands and patting it.] Nonsense!
MARTHA--[Shaking her head and smiling with a touch of sadness.]
No. I feel it.
CURTIS--[Puts his arms around her protectingly.] Nonsense! You're
not the sort that ever grows old.
MARTHA--[Nestling up to him.] I'm afraid we're all that sort,
dear. Even you. [She touches the white hair about his temples
playfully.] Circumstantial evidence. I'll have to dye it when
you're asleep some time--and then nobody'll know.
CURTIS--[Looking at her.] You haven't any silver threads.
[Jokingly.] Am I to suspect--?
MARTHA--No, I don't. Honest, cross my heart, I wouldn't even
conceal that from you, if I did. But gray hairs prove nothing. I
am actually older than you, don't forget.
CURTIS--One whole year! That's frightful, isn't it?
MARTHA--I'm a woman, remember; so that one means at least six.
Ugh! Let's not talk about it. Do you know, it really fills me with
a queer panic sometimes?
CURTIS--[Squeezing her.] Silly girl!
MARTHA--[Snuggling close to him.] Will you always love me--even
when I'm old and ugly and feeble and you're still young and strong
and handsome?
CURTIS--[Kisses her--tenderly.] Martha! What a foolish question,
sweetheart. If we ever have to grow old, we'll do it together just
as we've always done everything.
MARTHA--[With a happy sigh.] That's my dream of happiness, Curt.
[Enthusiastically.] Oh, it has been a wonderful, strange life
we've lived together, Curt, hasn't it? You're sure you've never
regretted--never had the weest doubt that it might have been
better with--someone else?
CURTIS--[Kisses her again--tenderly reproachful.] Martha!
MARTHA--And I have helped--really helped you, haven't I?
CURTIS--[Much moved.] You've been the best wife a man could ever
wish for, Martha. You've been--you are wonderful. I owe
everything to you--your sympathy and encouragement. Don't you know
I realize that? [She kisses him gratefully.]
MARTHA--[Musing happily.] Yes, it's been a wonderful, glorious
life. I'd live it over again if I could, every single second of
it--even the terrible suffering--the children.
CURTIS--[Wincing.] Don't. I wouldn't want that over again. [Then
changing the subject abruptly.] But why have you been putting all
our life into the past tense? It seems to me the most interesting
part is still ahead of us.
MARTHA--[Softly.] I mean--together--Curt.
CURTIS--So do I!
MARTHA--But you're going away--and I can't go with you this time.
CURTIS--[Smiling to himself over her head.] Yes, that does
complicate matters, doesn't it?
MARTHA--[Hurt--looking up at him.] Curt! How indifferently you say
that--as if you didn't care!
CURTIS--[Avoiding her eyes--teasingly.] What do you think you'll
do all the time I'm gone?
MARTHA--Oh, I'll be lost--dead--I won't know what to do. I'll die
of loneliness--[yearning creeping into her voice] unless--
CURTIS--[Inquisitively.] Unless what?
MARTHA--[Burying her face on his shoulder--passionately.] Oh,
Curt, I love you so! Swear that you'll always love me no matter
what I do--no matter what I ask--
CURTIS--[Vaguely uneasy now, trying to peer into her face.] But,
sweetheart--
MARTHA--[Giving way weakly to her feelings for a moment--
entreatingly.] Then don't go!
CURTIS--[Astonished.] Why, I've got to go. You know that.
MARTHA--Yes, I suppose you have. [Vigorously, as if flinging off a
weakness.] Of course you have!
CURTIS--But, Martha--you said you'd be lonely unless--unless what?
Martha--Unless I--[She hesitates, blushing and confused.] I mean
we--oh, I'm so afraid of what you'll--hold me close, very close to
you and I'll whisper it. [She pulls his head down and whispers in
his ear. A look of disappointment and aversion forces itself on
his face.]
CURTIS--[Almost indignantly.] But that's impossible, Martha!
MARTHA--[Pleadingly.] Now don't be angry with me, Curt--not till
you've heard everything. [With a trace of defiance.] It isn't
impossible, Curt. It's so! It's happened! I was saving it as a
secret--to tell you to-day--on my birthday.
CURTIS--[Stunned.] You mean it--is a fact?
MARTHA--Yes. [Then pitifully.] Oh, Curt, don't look that way! You
seem so cold--so far away from me. [Straining her arms about
him.] Why don't you hold me close to you? Why don't you say you're
glad--for my sake?
CURTIS--[Agitatedly.] But Martha--you don't understand. How can I
pretend gladness when--[Vehemently.] Why, it would spoil all our
plans!
MARTHA--Plans? OUR plans? What do you mean?
CURTIS--[Excitedly.] Why, you're going with me, of course! I've
obtained official permission. I've been working for it for months.
The letter came yesterday morning.
MARTHA--[Stunned.] Permission--to go with you--
CURTIS--[Excitedly.] Yes. I couldn't conceive going without you.
And I knew how you must be wishing--
MARTHA--[In pain.] Oh!
CURTIS--[Distractedly--jumping to his feet and staring at her
bewilderedly.] Martha! You don't mean to tell me you weren't!
MARTHA--[In a crushed voice.] I was wishing you would finally
decide not to go--to stay at home.
CURTIS--[Betraying exasperation.] But you must realize that's
impossible. Martha, are you sure you've clearly understood what
I've told you? You can go with me, do you hear? Everything is
arranged. And I've had to fight so hard--I was running the risk of
losing my own chance by my insistence that I couldn't go without
you.
MARTHA--[Weakly and helplessly.] I understand all that, Curt.
CURTIS--[Indignantly.] And yet--you hesitate! Why, this is the
greatest thing of its kind ever attempted! There are unprecedented
possibilities! A whole new world of knowledge may be opened up--
the very origin of Man himself! And you will be the only woman--
MARTHA--I realize all that, Curt.
CURTIS--You can't--and hesitate! And then--think, Martha!--it
will mean that you and I won't have to be separated. We can go on
living the old, free life together.
MARTHA--[Growing calm now.] You are forgetting--what I told you,
Curt. You must face the fact. I cannot go.
CURTIS--[Overwhelmed by the finality of her tone--after a pause.]
How long have you known--this?
MARTHA--Two months, about.
CURTIS--But why didn't you tell me before?
MARTHA--I was afraid you wouldn't understand--and you haven't,
Curt. But why didn't you tell me before--what you were planning?
CURTIS--[Eagerly.] You mean--then--you would have been glad to go--
before this had happened?
MARTHA--I would have accepted it.
CURTIS--[Despairingly.] Martha, how could you ever have allowed
this to happen? Oh, I suppose I'm talking foolishness. It wasn't
your seeking, I know.
MARTHA--Yes it was, Curt. I wished it. I sought it.
CURTIS--[Indignantly.] Martha! [Then in a hurt tone.] You have
broken the promise we made when they died. We were to keep their
memories inviolate. They were to be always--our only children.
MARTHA--[Gently.] They forgive me, Curt. And you will forgive me,
too--when you see him--and love him.
CURTIS--Him?
MARTHA--I know it will be a boy.
CURTIS--[Sinking down on the couch beside her--dully.] Martha!
You have blown my world to bits.
MARTHA--[Taking one of his hands in hers--gently.] You must make
allowances for me. Curt, and forgive me. I AM getting old. No,
it's the truth. I've reached the turning point. Will you listen to
my side of it, Curt, and try to see it--with sympathy--with true
understanding--[With a trace of bitterness.]--forgetting your
work for the moment?
CURTIS--[Miserably.] That's unfair, Martha. I think of it as OUR
work--and I have always believed you did, too.
MARTHA--[Quickly.] I did, Curt! I do! All in the past is our work.
It's my greatest pride to think so. But, Curt, I'll have to
confess frankly--during the past two years I've felt myself--
feeling as if I wasn't complete--with that alone.
CURTIS--Martha! [Bitterly.] And all the time I believed that more
and more it was becoming the aim of your life, too.
MARTHA--[With a sad smile.] I'm glad of that, dear. I tried my
best to conceal it from you. It would have been so unfair to let
you guess while we were still in harness. But oh, how I kept
looking forward to the time when we would come back--and rest--in
our own home! You know--you said that was your plan--to stay here
and write your books--and I was hoping--
CURTIS--[With a gesture of aversion.] I loathe this book-writing.
It isn't my part, I realize now. But when I made the plans you
speak of, how could I know that then?
MARTHA--[Decisively.] You've got to go. I won't try to stop you.
I'll help all in my power--as I've always done. Only--I can't go
with you any more. And you must help me--to do my work--by
understanding it. [He is silent, frowning, his face agitated,
preoccupied. She goes on intensely.] Oh, Curt, I wish I could tell
you what I feel, make you feel with me the longing for a child. If
you had just the tiniest bit of feminine in you--! [Forcing a
smile.] But you're so utterly masculine, dear! That's what has
made me love you, I suppose--so I've no right to complain of it.
[Intensely.] I don't. I wouldn't have you changed one bit! I love
you! And I love the things you love--your work--because it's a
part of you. And that's what I want you to do--to reciprocate--to
love the creator in me--to desire that I, too, should complete
myself with the thing nearest my heart!
CURTIS--[Intensely preoccupied with his own struggle--vaguely.]
But I thought--
MARTHA--I know; but, after all, your work is yours, not mine. I
have been only a helper, a good comrade, too, I hope, but--
somehow--outside of it all. Do you remember two years ago when we
were camped in Yunnan, among the aboriginal tribes? It was one
night there when we were lying out in our sleeping-bags up in the
mountains along the Tibetan frontier. I couldn't sleep. Suddenly I
felt oh, so tired--utterly alone--out of harmony with you--with
the earth under me. I became horribly despondent--like an outcast
who suddenly realizes the whole world is alien. And all the
wandering about the world, and all the romance and excitement I'd
enjoyed in it, appeared an aimless, futile business, chasing
around in a circle in an effort to avoid touching reality. Forgive
me, Curt. I meant myself, not you, of course. Oh, it was horrible,
I tell you, to feel that way. I tried to laugh at myself, to fight
it off, but it stayed and grew worse. It seemed as if I were the
only creature alive--who was not alive. And all at once the
picture came of a tribeswoman who stood looking at us in a little
mountain village as we rode by. She was nursing her child. Her
eyes were so curiously sure of herself. She was horribly ugly,
poor woman, and yet--as the picture came back to me--I appeared to
myself the ugly one while she was beautiful. And I thought of our
children who had died--and such a longing for another child came
to me that I began sobbing. You were asleep. You didn't hear. [She
pauses--then proceeds slowly.] And when we came back here--to have
a home at last, I was so happy because I saw my chance of
fulfillment--before it was too late. [In a gentle, pleading
voice.] Now can you understand, dear? [She puts her hand on his
arm.]
CURTIS--[Starting as if awaking from a sleep.] Understand? No, I
can't understand, Martha.
MARTHA--[In a gasp of unbearable hurt.] Curt! I don't believe you
heard a word I was saying.
CURTIS--[Bursting forth as if releasing all the pent-up struggle
that has been gathering within him.] No, I can't understand. I
cannot, cannot! It seems like treachery to me.
MARTHA--Curt!
CURTIS--I've depended on you. This is the crucial point--the
biggest thing of my life--and you desert me!
MARTHA--[Resentment gathering in her eyes.] If you had listened to
me--if you had even tried to feel--
CURTIS--I feel that you are deliberately ruining my highest hope.
How can I go on without you? I've been trying to imagine myself
alone. I can't! Even with my work--who can I get to take your
place? Oh, Martha, why do you have to bring this new element into
our lives at this late day? Haven't we been sufficient, you and I
together? Isn't that a more difficult, beautiful happiness to
achieve than--children? Everyone has children. Don't I love you
as much as any man could love a woman? Isn't that enough for you?
Doesn't it mean anything to you that I need you so terribly--for
myself, for my work--for everything that is best and worthiest in
me? Can you expect me to be glad when you propose to introduce a
stranger who will steal away your love, your interest--who will
separate us and deprive me of you! No, no, I cannot! It's asking
the impossible. I am only human.
MARTHA--If you were human you would think of my life as well as
yours.
CURTIS--I do! It is OUR life I am fighting for, not mine--OUR life
that you want to destroy.
MARTHA--Our life seems to mean your life to you, Curt--and only
your life. I have devoted fifteen years to that. Now I must fight
for my own.
CURTIS--[Aghast.] You talk as if we were enemies, Martha!
[Striding forward and seizing her in his arms.] No, you don't mean
it! I love you so, Martha! You've made yourself part of my life,
my work--I need you so! I can't share you with anyone! I won't!
Martha, my own! Say that you won't, dear? [He kisses her
passionately again and again.]
MARTHA--[All her love and tenderness aroused by his kisses and
passionate sincerity--weakening.] Curt! Curt! [Pitiably.] It won't
separate us, dear. Can't you see he will be a link between us--
even when we are away from each other--that he will bring us
together all the closer?
CURTIS--But I can't be away from you!
MARTHA--[Miserably.] Oh, Curt, why won't you look the fact in the
face--and learn to accept it with joy? Why can't you for my sake?
I would do that for you.
CURTIS--[Breaking away from her--passionately.] You will not do
what I have implored you--for me! And I am looking the fact in the
face--the fact that there must be no fact! [Avoiding her eyes--as
if defying his own finer feelings.] There are doctors who--
MARTHA--[Shrinking back from him.] Curt! You propose that--to me!
[With overwhelming sorrow.] Oh, Curt! When I feel him--his life
within me--like a budding of my deepest soul--to flower and
continue me--you say what you have just said! [Grief-stricken.]
Oh, you never, never, never will understand!
CURTIS--[Shamefacedly.] Martha, I--[Distractedly.] I don't know
what I'm saying! This whole situation is so unbearable! Why, why
does it have to happen now?
MARTHA--[Gently.] It must be now--or not at all--at my age, dear.
[Then after a pause--staring at him frightenedly--sadly.] You have
changed, Curt. I remember it used to be your happiness to
sacrifice yourself for me.
CURTIS--I had no work then--no purpose beyond myself. To sacrifice
oneself is easy. But when your only meaning becomes as a searcher
for knowledge--you cannot sacrifice that, Martha. You must
sacrifice everything for that--or lose all sincerity.
MARTHA--I wonder where your work leaves off and you begin. Hasn't
your work become you?
CURTIS--Yes and no. [Helplessly.] You can't understand, Martha! ...
MARTHA--Nor you.
CURTIS--[With a trace of bitter irony.] And you and your work?
Aren't they one and the same?
MARTHA--So you think mine is selfish, too? [After a pause--sadly.]
I can't blame you, Curt. It's all my fault. I've spoiled you by
giving up my life so completely to yours. You've forgotten I have
one. Oh, I don't mean that I was a martyr. I know that in you
alone lay my happiness and fulfillment in those years--after the
children died. But we are no longer what we were then. We must,
both of us, relearn to love and respect--what we have become.
CURTIS--[Violently.] Nonsense! You talk as if love were an
intellectual process--[Taking her into his arms--passionately.] I
love you--always and forever! You are me and I am you. What use is
all this vivisecting? [He kisses her fiercely. They look into each
other's eyes for a second--then instinctively fall back from one
another.]
MARTHA--[In a whisper.] Yes, you love me. But who am I? There is
no recognition in your eyes. You don't know.
CURTIS--[Frightenedly.] Martha! Stop! This is terrible! [They
continue to be held by each other's fearfully questioning eyes.]
[The Curtain Falls]
ACT III
SCENE--Same as Act II. As the curtain rises, JAYSON is
discovered sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, in which a log
fire is burning fitfully. He is staring into the flames, a
strained, expectant expression on his face. It is about three
o'clock in the morning. There is no light but that furnished by
the fire which fills the room with shifting shadows. The door in
the rear is opened and RICHARD appears, his face harried by the
stress of unusual emotion. Through the opened doorway, a low,
muffled moan of anguish sounds from the upper part of the house.
JAYSON and RICHARD both shudder. The latter closes the door behind
him quickly as if anxious to shut out the noise.
JAYSON--[Looking up anxiously.] Well?
RICHARD--[Involuntarily straightening up as if about to salute and
report to a superior officer.] No change, sir. [Then, as if
remembering himself, comes to the fireplace and slumps down in a
chair--agitatedly.] God, Dad, I can't stand her moaning and
screaming! It's got my nerves shot to pieces. I thought I was
hardened. I've heard them out in No Man's Land--dying by inches--
when you couldn't get to them or help--but this is worse--a
million times! After all, that was war--and they were men--
JAYSON--Martha is having an exceptionally hard ordeal.
RICHARD--Since three o'clock this morning--yesterday morning, I
should say. It's a wonder she isn't dead.
JAYSON--[After a pause.] Where is Curt?
RICHARD--[Harshly.] Still out in the garden, walking around
bareheaded in the cold like a lunatic.
JAYSON--Why didn't you make him come in?
RICHARD--Make him! It's easy to say. He's in a queer state, Dad, I
can tell you! There's something torturing him besides her pain--
JAYSON--[After a pause.] Yes, there's a lot in all this we don't
know about.
RICHARD--I suppose the reason he's so down on the family is
because we've rather cut her since that tea affair.
JAYSON--He shouldn't blame us. She acted abominably and has
certainly caused enough talk since then--always about with
Bigelow--
RICHARD--[With a sardonic laugh.] And yet he keeps asking everyone
to send for Bigelow--says he wants to talk to him--not us. WE
can't understand! [He laughs bitterly.]
JAYSON--I'm afraid Curt knows we understand too much.
[Agitatedly.] But why does he want Bigelow, in God's name? In his
present state--with the suspicions he must have--there's liable to
be a frightful scene.
RICHARD--Don't be afraid of a scene. [With pitying scorn.] The
hell of it is he seems to regard Bigelow as his best friend.
Damned if I can make it out.
JAYSON--I gave orders that they were always to tell Curt Bigelow
was out of town and couldn't be reached. [With a sigh.] What a
frightful situation for all of us! [After a pause.] It may sound
cruel of me--but--I can't help wishing for all our sakes that
this child will never--
RICHARD--Yes, Dad, I know what you're thinking. It would be the
best thing for it, too--although I hate myself for saying it.
[There is a pause. Then the door in rear is opened and LILY
appears. She is pale and agitated. Leaving the door open behind
her she comes forward and flings herself on the lounge.]
JAYSON--[Anxiously.] Well?
LILY--[Irritably, getting up and switching on the lights.] Isn't
everything gloomy enough? [Sits down.] I couldn't bear it upstairs
one second longer. Esther and Emily are coming down, too. It's too
much for them--and they've had personal experience. [Trying to
mask her agitation by a pretense at flippancy.] I hereby become a
life-member of the birth-control league. Let's let humanity cease--
if God can't manage its continuance any better than that!
RICHARD--[Seriously.] Second the motion.
JAYSON--[Peevishly.] You're young idiots. Keep your blasphemous
nonsense to yourself, Lily!
LILY--[Jumping up and stamping her foot--hysterically.] I can't
stand it. Take me home, Dick, won't you? We're doing no good
waiting here. I'll have a fit--or something--if I stay.
RICHARD--[Glad of the excuse to go himself--briskly.] That's how
I feel. I'll drive you home. Come along. [ESTHER and EMILY enter,
followed by JOHN.]
LILY--[Excitedly.] I'll never marry or have a child! Never, never!
I'll go into Mark's office to-morrow and make myself independent
of marriage.
ESTHER--Sssh! Lily! Don't you know you're shouting? And what silly
talk!
LILY--I'll show you whether it's silly! I'll--
RICHARD--[Impatiently.] Are you coming or not?
LILY--[Quickly.] Yes--wait--here I am. [She pushes past the others
and follows RICHARD out rear. ESTHER and EMILY sit on couch--JOHN
on chair, right rear.]
ESTHER--[With a sigh.] I thought I went through something when
mine were born--but this is too awful.
EMILY--And, according to John, Curt actually says he hates it!
Isn't that terrible? [After a pause--meaningly.] It's almost as
if her suffering was a punishment, don't you think?
ESTHER--If it is, she's being punished enough, Heaven knows. It
can't go on this way much longer or something dreadful will
happen.
EMILY--Do you think the baby--
ESTHER--I don't know. I shouldn't say it but perhaps it would be
better if--
EMILY--That's what I think.
ESTHER--Oh, I wish I didn't have such evil suspicions--but the way
Curt goes on--how can you help feeling there's something wrong?
JAYSON--[Suddenly.] How is Curt?
EMILY--John just came in from the garden. [Turning around to where
JOHN is dozing in his chair--sharply.] John! Well I never! If he
isn't falling asleep! John! [He jerks up his head and stares at
her, blinking stupidly. She continues irritably.] A nice time to
pick out for a nap, I must say.
JOHN--[Surlily.] Don't forget I have to be at the bank in the
morning.
JAYSON--[Testily.] I have to be at the bank, too--and you don't
notice me sleeping. Tell me about Curt. You just left him, didn't
you?
JOHN--[Irritably.] Yes, and I've been walking around that damned
garden half the night watching over him. Isn't that enough to wear
anyone out? I can feel I've got a terrible cold coming on--
ESTHER--[Impatiently.] For goodness sake, don't you start to pity
yourself!
JOHN--[Indignantly.] I'm not. I think I've showed my willingness
to do everything I could. If Curt was only the least bit grateful!
He isn't. He hates us all and wishes we were out of his home. I
would have left long ago if I didn't want to do my part in saving
the family name from disgrace.
JAYSON--[Impatiently.] Has he quieted down, that's what I want to
know?
JOHN--[Harshly.] Not the least bit. He's out of his head--and I'd
be out of mine if a child was being born to my wife that--
JAYSON--[Angrily.] Keep that to yourself! Remember you have no
proof. [Morosely.] Think all you want--but don't talk.
EMILY--[Pettishly.] The whole town knows it, anyway; I'm sure they
must.
JAYSON--There's only been gossip--no real scandal. Let's do our
united best to keep it at that. [After a pause.] Where's Aunt
Elizabeth? We'll have to keep an eye on her, too, or she's quite
liable to blurt out the whole business before all comers.
ESTHER--You needn't be afraid. She's forgotten all about the
scandalous part. No word of it has come to her out in the country
and she hasn't set foot in town since that unfortunate tea,
remember. And at present she's so busy wishing the child will be a
boy, that she hasn't a thought for another thing. [The door in the
rear is opened and MARK SHEFFIELD enters. He comes up to the fire
to warm himself. The others watch him in silence for a moment.]
JAYSON--[Impatiently.] Well, Mark? Where's Curt?
SHEFFIELD--[Frowning.] Inside. I think he'll be with us in a
minute. [With a scornful smile.] Just now he's 'phoning to
Bigelow. [The others gasp.]
JAYSON--[Furiously.] For God's sake, couldn't you stop him?
SHEFFIELD--Not without a scene. Your Aunt persuaded him to come
into the house--and he rushed for the 'phone. I think he guessed
we had been lying to him--
JAYSON--[After a pause.] Then he--Bigelow will be here soon?
SHEFFIELD--[Drily.] It depends on his sense of decency. As he
seems lacking in that quality, I've no doubt he'll come.
JOHN--[Rising to his feet--pompously.] Then I, for one, will go.
Come, Emily. Since Curt seems bound to disgrace everyone
concerned, I want it thoroughly understood that we wash our hands
of the whole disgraceful affair.
EMILY--[Snappishly.] Go if you want to! I won't! [Then with a
sacrificing air.] I think it is our duty to stay.
JAYSON--[Exasperated.] Sit down. Wash your hands indeed! Aren't
you as much concerned as any of us?
SHEFFIELD--[Sharply.] Sshh! I think I hear Curt now. [JOHN sits
down abruptly. All stiffen into stony attitudes. The door is
opened and CURT enters. He is incredibly drawn and haggard, a
tortured, bewildered expression in his eyes. His hair is
dishevelled, his boots caked with mud. He stands at the door
staring from one to the other of his family with a wild,
contemptuous scorn and mutters.]
CURTIS--Liars! Well, he's coming now. [Then bewilderedly.] Why
didn't you want him to come, eh? He's my oldest friend. I've got
to talk to someone--and I can't to you. [Wildly.] What do you
want here, anyway? Why don't you go? [A scream of MARTHA's is
heard through the doorway. CURT shudders violently, slams the door
to with a crash, putting his shoulders against it as if to bar out
the sound inexorably--in anguish.] God, why must she go through
such agony? Why? Why? [He goes to the fireplace as MARK makes way
for him, flings himself exhaustedly on a chair, his shoulders
bowed, his face hidden in his hands. The others stare at him
pityingly. There is a long silence. Then the two women whisper
together, get up and tiptoe out of the room, motioning for the
others to follow them. JOHN does so. SHEFFIELD starts to go, then
notices the preoccupied JAYSON who is staring moodily into the
fire.]
SHEFFIELD--Sstt! [As JAYSON looks up--in a whisper.] Let's go out
and leave him alone. Perhaps he'll sleep.
JAYSON--[Starting to follow SHEFFIELD, hesitates and puts a hand
on his son's shoulder.] Curt. Remember I'm your father. Can't you
confide in me? I'll do anything to help.
CURTIS--[Harshly.] No, Dad. Leave me alone.
JAYSON--[Piqued.] As you wish. [He starts to go.]
CURTIS--And send Big in to me as soon as he comes.
JAYSON--[Stops, appears about to object--then remarks coldly.]
Very well--if you insist. [He switches off the lights. He
hesitates at the door uncertainly, then opens it and goes out.
There is a pause. Then CURT lifts his head and peers about the
room. Seeing he is alone he springs to his feet and begins to pace
back and forth, his teeth clenched, his features working
convulsively. Then, as if attracted by an irresistible impulse, he
goes to the closed door and puts his ear to the crack. He
evidently hears his wife's moans for he starts away--in agony.]
CURTIS--Oh, Martha, Martha! Martha, darling! [He flings himself in
the chair by the fireplace--hides his face in his hands and sobs
bitterly. There is a ring from somewhere in the house. Soon after
there is a knock at the door. CURTIS doesn't hear at first but
when it is repeated he mutters huskily.] Come in. [BIGELOW enters.
CURT looks up at him.] Close that door, Big, for God's sake!
BIGELOW--[Does so--then taking off his overcoat, hat, and throwing
them on the lounge comes quickly over to CURT.] I got over as soon
as I could. [As he sees CURT's face he starts and says
sympathetically.] By Jove, old man, you look as though you'd been
through hell!
CURTIS--[Grimly.] I have. I am.
BIGELOW--[Slapping his back.] Buck up! [Then anxiously.] How's
Martha?
CURTIS--She's in hell, too--
BIGELOW--[Attempting consolation.] You're surely not worrying, are
you? Martha is so strong and healthy there's no doubt of her
pulling through in fine shape.
CURTIS--She should never have attempted this. [After a pause.]
I've a grudge against you, Big. It was you bringing your children
over here that first planted this in her mind.
BIGELOW--[After a pause.] I've guessed you thought that. That's
why you haven't noticed me--or them--over here so much lately.
I'll confess that I felt you--[Angrily.] And the infernal gossip--
I'll admit I thought that you--oh, damn this rotten town,
anyway!
CURTIS--[Impatiently.] Oh, for God's sake! [Bitterly.] I didn't
want you here to discuss Bridgetown gossip.
BIGELOW--I know, old man, forgive me. [In spite of the closed door
one of MARTHA's agonized moans is heard. They both shudder.]
CURTIS--[In a dead, monotonous tone.] She has been moaning like
that hour after hour. I shall have those sounds in my ears until
the day I die. Nothing can ever make me forget--nothing.
BIGELOW--[Trying to distract him.] Deuce take it, Curt, what's the
matter with you? I never thought you'd turn morbid.
CURTIS--[Darkly.] I've changed, Big--I hardly know myself any
more.
BIGELOW--Once you're back on the job again, you'll be all right.
You're still determined to go on this expedition, aren't you?
CURTIS--Yes. I was supposed to join them this week in New York but
I've arranged to catch up with them in China--as soon as it's
possible for us to go.
BIGELOW--Us? You mean you still plan to take--
CURTIS--[Angrily aggressive.] Yes, certainly! Why not? Martha
ought to be able to travel in a month or so.
BIGELOW--Yes, but--do you think it would be safe to take the
child?
CURTIS--[With a bitter laugh.] Yes--I was forgetting the child,
wasn't I? [Viciously.] But perhaps--[Then catching himself with a
groan.] Oh, damn all children, Big!
BIGELOW--[Astonished.] Curt!
CURTIS--[In anguish.] I can't help it--I've fought against it. But
it's there--deep down in me--and I can't drive it out. I can't!
BIGELOW--[Bewildered.] What, Curt?
CURTIS--Hatred! Yes, hatred! What's the use of denying it? I must
tell someone and you're the only one who might understand. [With a
wild laugh.] For you--hated your wife, didn't you?
BIGELOW--[Stunned.] Good God, you don't mean you hate--Martha?
CURTIS--[Raging.] Hate Martha? How dare you, you fool! I love
Martha--love her with every miserable drop of blood in me--with
all my life--all my soul! She is my whole world--everything! Hate
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