Plays
arms wrapped round him_) My love--my love--let go your pride in
loneliness and let me give you joy!
TOM: (_drenched in her passion, but fighting_) It's _you_. (_in
anguish_) You rare thing untouched--not--not into this--not back into
this--by me--lover of your apartness.
(_She steps back. She sees he cannot. She stands there, before what she
wanted more than life, and almost had, and lost. A long moment. Then she
runs down the stairs._)
CLAIRE: (_her voice coming up_) Harry! Choke that phonograph! If you
want to be lewd--do it yourselves! You tawdry things--you cheap little
lewd cowards, (_a door heard opening below_) Harry! If you don't stop
that music, I'll kill myself.
(_far down, steps on stairs_)
HARRY: Claire, what _is_ this?
CLAIRE: Stop that phonograph or I'll--
HARRY: Why, of course I'll stop it. What--what is there to get so
excited about? Now--now just a minute, dear. It'll take a minute.
(CLAIRE _comes back upstairs, dragging steps, face ghastly. The amorous
song still comes up, and louder now that doors are open. She and_ TOM
_do not look at one another. Then, on a languorous swell the music comes
to a grating stop. They do not speak or move. Quick footsteps_--HARRY
_comes up_.)
HARRY: What in the world were you saying, Claire? Certainly you could
have asked me more quietly to turn off the Victrola. Though what harm
was it doing you--way up here? (_a sharp little sound from_ CLAIRE; _she
checks it, her hand over her mouth_. HARRY _looks from her to_ TOM)
Well, I think you two would better have had your dinner. Won't you come
down now and have some?
CLAIRE: (_only now taking her hand from her mouth_) Harry, tell him to
come up here--that insanity man. I--want to ask him something.
HARRY: 'Insanity man!' How absurd. He's a nerve specialist. There's a
vast difference.
CLAIRE: Is there? Anyway, ask him to come up here. Want to--ask him
something.
TOM: (_speaking with difficulty_) Wouldn't it be better for us to go
down there?
CLAIRE: No. So nice up here! Everybody--up here!
HARRY: (_worried_) You'll--be yourself, will you, Claire? (_She checks a
laugh, nods_.) I think he can help you.
CLAIRE: Want to ask him to--help me.
HARRY: (_as he is starting down_) He's here as a guest to-night, you
know, Claire.
CLAIRE: I suppose a guest can--help one.
TOM: (_when the silence rejects it_) Claire, you must know, it's because
it is so much, so--
CLAIRE: Be still. There isn't anything to say.
TOM: (_torn--tortured_) If it only weren't _you_!
CLAIRE: Yes,--so you said. If it weren't. I suppose I wouldn't be
so--interested! (_hears them starting up below--keeps looking at the
place where they will appear_)
(HARRY _is heard to call_, 'Coming, Dick?' _and_ DICK's _voice replies_,
'In a moment or two.' ADELAIDE _comes first_.)
ADELAIDE: (_as her head appears_) Well, these stairs should keep down
weight. You missed an awfully good dinner, Claire. And kept Mr Edgeworth
from a good dinner.
CLAIRE: Yes. We missed our dinner. (_her eyes do not leave the place
where_ DR EMMONS _will come up_)
HARRY: (_as he and_ EMMONS _appear_) Claire, this is--
CLAIRE: Yes, I know who he is. I want to ask you--
ADELAIDE: Let the poor man get his breath before you ask him anything.
(_he nods, smiles, looks at_ CLAIRE _with interest. Careful not to look
too long at her, surveys the tower_)
EMMONS: Curious place.
ADELAIDE: Yes; it lacks form, doesn't it?
CLAIRE: What do you mean? How _dare_ you?
(_It is impossible to ignore her agitation; she is backed against the
curved wall, as far as possible from them._ HARRY _looks at her in
alarm, then in resentment at_ TOM, _who takes a step nearer_ CLAIRE.)
HARRY: (_trying to be light_) Don't take it so hard, Claire.
CLAIRE: (_to_ EMMONS) It must be very interesting--helping people go
insane.
ADELAIDE: Claire! How preposterous.
EMMONS: (_easily_) I hope that's not precisely what we do.
ADELAIDE: (_with the smile of one who is going to 'cover it'._) Trust
Claire to put it in the unique and--amusing way.
CLAIRE: Amusing? You are amused? But it doesn't matter, (_to the
doctor_) I think it is very kind of you--helping people go insane. I
suppose they have all sorts of reasons for having to do it--reasons why
they can't stay sane any longer. But tell me, how do they do it? It's
not so easy to--get out. How do so many manage it?
EMMONS: I'd like immensely to have a talk with you about all this some
day.
ADELAIDE: Certainly this is not the time, Claire.
CLAIRE: The time? When you--can't go any farther--isn't that that--
ADELAIDE: (_capably taking the whole thing into matter-of-factness_)
What I think is, Claire has worked too long with plants. There's
something--not quite sound about making one thing into another thing.
What we need is unity. (_from_ CLAIRE _something like a moan_) Yes,
dear, we do need it. (_to the doctor_) I can't say that I believe in
making life over like this. I don't think the new species are worth it.
At least I don't believe in it for Claire. If one is an intense,
sensitive person--
CLAIRE: Isn't there any way to _stop_ her? Always--always smothering it
with the word for it?
EMMONS: (_soothingly_) But she can't smother it. Anything that's really
there--she can't hurt with words.
CLAIRE: (_looking at him with eyes too bright_) Then you don't see it
either, (_angry_) Yes, she can hurt it! Piling it up--always piling it
up--between us and--What there. Clogging the way--always, (_to_ EMMONS)
I want to cease to know! That's all I ask. Darken it. Darken it. If you
came to help me, strike me blind!
EMMONS: You're really all tired out, aren't you? Oh, we've got to get
you rested.
CLAIRE: They--deny it saying they have it; and he (_half looks at_
TOM_--quickly looks away_)--others, deny it--afraid of losing it. We're
in the way. Can't you see the dead stuff piled in the path?
(_Pointing._)
DICK: (_voice coming up_) Me too?
CLAIRE: (_staring at the path, hearing his voice a moment after it has
come_) Yes, Dick--you too. Why not--you too. (_after he has come up_)
What is there any more than you are?
DICK: (_embarrassed by the intensity, but laughing_) A question not at
all displeasing to me. Who can answer it?
CLAIRE: (_more and more excited_) Yes! Who can answer it? (_going to
him, in terror_) Let me go with you--and be with you--and know nothing
else!
ADELAIDE: (_gasping_) Why--!
HARRY: Claire! This is going a little too--
CLAIRE: Far? But you have to go far to--(_clinging to_ DICK) Only a
place to hide your head--what else is there to hope for? I can't stay
with them--piling it up! Always--piling it up! I can't get through
to--he won't let me through to--what I don't know is there! (DICK _would
help her regain herself_) Don't push me away! Don't--don't stand me up,
I will go back--to the worst we ever were! Go back--and remember--what
we've tried to forget!
ADELAIDE: It's time to stop this by force--if there's no other way.
(_the doctor shakes his head_)
CLAIRE: All I ask is to die in the gutter with everyone spitting on me.
(_changes to a curious weary smiling quiet_) Still, why should they
bother to do that?
HARRY: (_brokenly_) You're sick, Claire. There's no denying it. (_looks
at_ EMMONS, _who nods_)
ADELAIDE: Something to quiet her--to stop it.
CLAIRE: (_throwing her arms around_ DICK) You, Dick. Not them. Not--any
of them.
DICK: Claire, you are overwrought. You must--
HARRY: (_to_ DICK, _as if only now realizing that phase of it_) I'll
tell you one thing, you'll answer to me for this! (_he starts for_
DICK--_is restrained by_ EMMONS, _chiefly by his grave shake of the
head. With_ HARRY_'s move to them,_ DICK _has shielded_ CLAIRE)
CLAIRE: Yes--hold me. Keep me. You have mercy! You will have mercy.
Anything--everything--that will let me be nothing!
CURTAIN
ACT III
_In the greenhouse, the same as Act I._ ANTHONY _is bedding small plants
where the Edge Vine grew. In the inner room the plant like caught motion
glows as from a light within._ HATTIE, _the Maid, rushes in from
outside._
ANTHONY: (_turning angrily_) You are not what this place--
HATTIE: Anthony, come in the house. I'm afraid. Mr Archer, I never saw
him like this. He's talking to Mr Demming--something about Mrs Archer.
ANTHONY: (_who in spite of himself is disturbed by her agitation_) And
if it is, it's no business of yours.
HATTIE: You don't know how he _is_. I went in the room and--
ANTHONY: Well, he won't hurt you, will he?
HATTIE: How do I know who he'll hurt--a person's whose--(_seeing how to
get him_) Maybe he'll hurt Mrs Archer.
ANTHONY: (_startled, then smiles_) No; he won't hurt Miss Claire.
HATTIE: What do you know about it?--out here in the plant house?
ANTHONY: And I don't want to know about it. This is a very important day
for me. It's Breath of Life I'm thinking of today--not you and Mr
Archer.
HATTIE: Well, suppose he does something to Mr Demming?
ANTHONY: Mr Demming will have to look out for himself, I am at work.
(_resuming work_)
HATTIE: Don't you think I ought to tell Mrs Archer that--
ANTHONY: You let her alone! This is no day for her to be bothered by
you. At eleven o'clock (_looks at watch_) she comes out here--to Breath
of Life.
HATTIE: (_with greed for gossip_) Did you see any of them when they came
downstairs last night?
ANTHONY: I was attending to my own affairs.
HATTIE: They was all excited. Mr Edgeworth--he went away. He was gone
all night, I guess. I saw him coming back just as the milkman woke me
up. Now he's packing his things. _He_ wanted to get to Mrs Archer
too--just a little while ago. But she won't open her door for none of
them. I can't even get in to do her room.
ANTHONY: Then do some other room--and leave me alone in this room.
HATTIE: (_a little afraid of what she is asking_) Is she sick,
Anthony--or what? (_vindicating herself, as he gives her a look_) The
doctor, he stayed here late. But she'd locked herself in. I heard Mr
Archer--
ANTHONY: You heard too much! (_he starts for the door, to make her
leave, but_ DICK _rushes in. Looks around wildly, goes to the trap-door,
finds it locked_)
ANTHONY: What are you doing here?
DICK: Trying not to be shot--if you must know. This is the only place I
can think of--till he comes to his senses and I can get away. Open that,
will you? Rather--ignominious--but better be absurd than be dead.
HATTIE: Has he got the revolver?
DICK: Gone for it. Thought I wouldn't sit there till he got back, (_to_
ANTHONY) Look here--don't you get the idea? Get me some place where he
can't come.
ANTHONY: It is not what this place is for.
DICK: Any place is for saving a man's life.
HATTIE: Sure, Anthony. Mrs Archer wouldn't want Mr Demming shot.
DICK: That's right, Anthony. Miss Claire will be angry at you if you get
me shot. (_he makes for the door of the inner room_)
ANTHONY: You can't go in there. It's locked. (HARRY _rushes in from
outside_.)
HARRY: I thought so! (_he has the revolver_. HATTIE _screams_)
ANTHONY: Now, Mr Archer, if you'll just stop and think, you'll know Miss
Claire wouldn't want Mr Demming shot.
HARRY: You think that can stop me? You think you can stop me? (_raising
the revolver_) A dog that--
ANTHONY: (_keeping squarely between_ HARRY _and_ DICK) Well, you can't
shoot him in here. It is not good for the plants. (HARRY _is arrested by
this reason_) And especially not today. Why, Mr Archer, Breath of Life
may flower today. It's years Miss Claire's been working for this day.
HARRY: I never thought to see this day!
ANTHONY: No, did you? Oh, it will be a wonderful day. And how she has
worked for it. She has an eye that sees what isn't right in what looks