Plays
right. Many's the time I've thought--Here the form is set--and then
she'd say, 'We'll try this one', and it had--what I hadn't known was
there. She's like that.
HARRY: I've always been pleased, Anthony, at the way you've worked with
Miss Claire. This is hardly the time to stand there eulogizing her. And
she's (_can hardly say it_) things you don't know she is.
ANTHONY: (_proudly_) Oh, I know that! You think I could work with her
and not know she's more than I know she is?
HARRY: Well, if you love her you've got to let me shoot the dirty dog
that drags her down!
ANTHONY: Not in here. Not today. More than like you'd break the glass.
And Breath of Life's in there.
HARRY: Anthony, this is pretty clever of you--but--
ANTHONY: I'm not clever. But I know how easy it is to turn life back.
No, I'm not clever at all (CLAIRE _has appeared and is looking in from
outside_), but I do know--there are things you mustn't hurt, (_he sees
her_) Yes, here's Miss Claire.
(_She comes in. She is looking immaculate._)
CLAIRE: From the gutter I rise again, refreshed. One does, you know.
Nothing is fixed--not even the gutter, (_smilingly to_ HARRY _and
refusing to notice revolver or agitation_) How did you like the way I
entertained the nerve specialist?
HARRY: Claire! You can _joke_ about it?
CLAIRE: (_taking the revolver from the hand she has shocked to
limpness_) Whom are you trying to make hear?
HARRY: I'm trying to make the world hear that (_pointing_) there stands
a dirty dog who--
CLAIRE: Listen, Harry, (_turning to_ HATTIE, _who is over by the tall
plants at right, not wanting to be shot but not wanting to miss the
conversation_) You can do my room now, Hattie. (_HATTIE goes_) If you're
thinking of shooting Dick, you can't shoot him while he's backed up
against that door.
ANTHONY: Just what I told them, Miss Claire. Just what I told them.
CLAIRE: And for that matter, it's quite dull of you to have any idea of
shooting him.
HARRY: I may be dull--I know you think I am--but I'll show you that I've
enough of the man in me to--
CLAIRE: To make yourself ridiculous? If I ran out and hid my head in the
mud, would you think you had to shoot the mud?
DICK: (_stung out of fear_) That's pretty cruel!
CLAIRE: Well, would you rather be shot?
HARRY: So you just said it to protect him!
CLAIRE: I change it to grass, (_nodding to_ DICK) Grass. If I hid my
face in the grass, would you have to burn the grass?
HARRY: Oh, Claire, how _can_ you? When you know how I love you--and how
I'm suffering?
CLAIRE: (_with interest_) Are you suffering?
HARRY: Haven't you _eyes_?
CLAIRE: I should think it would--do something to you.
HARRY: God! Have you no heart? (_the door opens._ TOM _comes in_)
CLAIRE: (_scarcely saying it_) Yes, I have a heart.
TOM: (_after a pause_) I came to say good-bye.
CLAIRE: God! Have you no heart? Can't you at least wait till Dick is
shot?
TOM: Claire! (_now sees the revolver in her hand that is turned from
him. Going to her_) Claire!
CLAIRE: And even you think this is so important? (_carelessly raises the
revolver, and with her left hand out flat, tells_ TOM _not to touch
her_) Harry thinks it important he shoot Dick, and Dick thinks it
important not to be shot, and you think I mustn't shoot anybody--even
myself--and can't any of you see that none of that is as important
as--where revolvers can't reach? (_putting revolver where there is no
Edge Vine_) I shall never shoot myself. I'm too interested in
destruction to cut it short by shooting. (_after looking from one to the
other, laughs. Pointing_) One--two--three. You-love-me. But why do you
bring it out here?
ANTHONY: (_who has resumed work_) It is not what this place is for.
CLAIRE: No this place is for the destruction that can get through.
ANTHONY: Miss Claire, it is eleven. At eleven we are to go in and see--
CLAIRE: Whether it has gone through. But how can we go--with Dick
against the door?
ANTHONY: He'll have to move.
CLAIRE: And be shot?
HARRY: (_irritably_) Oh, he'll not be shot. Claire can spoil anything.
(DICK _steps away from the door_; CLAIRE _takes a step nearer it_.)
CLAIRE: (_halting_) Have I spoiled everything? I don't want to go in
there.
ANTHONY: We're going in together, Miss Claire. Don't you remember? Oh
(_looking resentfully at the others_) don't let any little thing spoil
it for you--the work of all those days--the hope of so many days.
CLAIRE: Yes--that's it.
ANTHONY: You're afraid you haven't done it?
CLAIRE: Yes, but--afraid I have.
HARRY: (_cross, but kindly_) That's just nervousness, Claire. I've had
the same feeling myself about making a record in flying.
CLAIRE: (_curiously grateful_) You have, Harry?
HARRY: (_glad enough to be back in a more usual world_) Sure. I've been
afraid to know, and almost as afraid of having done it as of not having
done it.
(CLAIRE _nods, steps nearer, then again pulls back_.)
CLAIRE: I can't go in there. (_she almost looks at_ TOM) Not today.
ANTHONY: But, Miss Claire, there'll be things to see today we can't see
tomorrow.
CLAIRE: You bring it in here!
ANTHONY: In--out from its own place? (_she nods_) And--where they are?
(_again she nods. Reluctantly he goes to the door_) I will not look into
the heart. No one must know before you know.
(_In the inner room, his head a little turned away, he is seen very
carefully to lift the plant which glows from within. As he brings it in,
no one looks at it_. HARRY _takes a box of seedlings from a stand and
puts them on the floor, that the newcomer may have a place_.)
ANTHONY: Breath of Life is here, Miss Claire.
(CLAIRE _half turns, then stops._)
CLAIRE: Look--and see--what you see.
ANTHONY: No one should see what you've not seen.
CLAIRE: I can't see--until I know.
(ANTHONY _looks into the flower._)
ANTHONY: (_agitated_) Miss Claire!
CLAIRE: It has come through?
ANTHONY: It has gone on.
CLAIRE: Stronger?
ANTHONY: Stronger, surer.
CLAIRE: And more fragile?
ANTHONY: And more fragile.
CLAIRE: Look deep. No--turning back?
ANTHONY: (_after a searching look_) The form is set. (_he steps back
from it_)
CLAIRE: Then it is--out. (_from where she stands she turns slowly to the
plant_) You weren't. You are.
ANTHONY: But come and see, Miss Claire.
CLAIRE: It's so much more than--I'd see.
HARRY: Well, I'm going to see. (_looking into it_) I never saw anything
like that before! There seems something alive--inside this outer shell.
DICK: (_he too looking in and he has an artist's manner of a hand up to
make the light right_) It's quite new in form. It--says something about
form.
HARRY: (_cordially to_ CLAIRE, _who stands apart_) So you've really put
it over. Well, well,--congratulations. It's a good deal of novelty, I
should say, and I've no doubt you'll have a considerable success with
it--people always like something new. I'm mighty glad--after all your
work, and I hope it will--set you up.
CLAIRE: (_low--and like a machine_) Will you all--go away?
(ANTHONY _goes--into the other room._)
HARRY: Why--why, yes. But--oh, Claire! Can't you take some pleasure in
your work? (_as she stands there very still_) Emmons says you need a
good long rest--and I think he's right.
TOM: Can't this help you, Claire? Let this be release. This--breath of
the uncaptured.
CLAIRE: (_and though speaking, she remains just as still_)
Breath of the uncaptured?
You are a novelty.
Out?
You have been brought in.
A thousand years from now, when you are but a form too long repeated,
Perhaps the madness that gave you birth will burst again,
And from the prison that is you will leap pent queernesses
To make a form that hasn't been--
To make a person new.
And this we call creation, (_very low, her head not coming up_)
Go away!
(TOM _goes_; HARRY _hesitates, looking in anxiety at_ CLAIRE. _He starts
to go, stops, looks at_ DICK, _from him to_ CLAIRE. _But goes. A moment
later_ DICK _moves near_ CLAIRE; _stands uncertainly, then puts a hand
upon her. She starts, only then knowing he is there._)
CLAIRE: (_a slight shrinking away, but not really reached_) Um, um.
(_He goes_. CLAIRE _steps nearer her creation. She looks into what
hasn't been. With her breath, and by a gentle moving of her hands, she
fans it to fuller openness. As she does this_ TOM _returns and from
outside is looking in at her. Softly he opens the door and comes in. She
does not know that he is there. In the way she looks at the flower he
looks at her._)
TOM: Claire, (_she lifts her head_) As you stood there, looking into the
womb you breathed to life, you were beautiful to me beyond any other
beauty. You were life and its reach and its anguish. I can't go away
from you. I will never go away from you. It shall all be--as you wish. I
can go with you where I could not go alone. If this is delusion, I want
that delusion. It's more than any reality I could attain, (_as she does
not move_) Speak to me, Claire. You--are glad?
CLAIRE: (_from far_) Speak to you? (_pause_) Do I know who you are?
TOM: I think you do.
CLAIRE: Oh, yes. I love you. That's who you are. (_waits again_) But why
are you something--very far away?
TOM: Come nearer.
CLAIRE: Nearer? (_feeling it with her voice_) Nearer. But I think I am
going--the other way.
TOM: No, Claire--come to me. Did you understand, dear? I am not going
away.
CLAIRE: You're not going away?
TOM: Not without you, Claire. And you and I will be together. Is
that--what you wanted?
CLAIRE: Wanted? (_as if wanting is something that harks far back. But
the word calls to her passion_) Wanted! (_a sob, hands out, she goes to
him. But before his arms can take her, she steps back_) Are you trying
to pull me down into what I wanted? Are you here to make me stop?
TOM: How can you ask that? I love you because it is not in you to stop.
CLAIRE: And loving me for that--would stop me? Oh, help me see it! It is
so important that I see it.
TOM: It is important. It is our lives.
CLAIRE: And more than that. I cannot see it because it is so much more
than that.
TOM: Don't try to see all that it is. From peace you'll see a little
more.
CLAIRE: Peace? (_troubled as we are when looking at what we cannot see
clearly_) What is peace? Peace is what the struggle knows in moments
very far apart. Peace--that is not a place to rest. Are you resting?
What are you? You who'd take me from what I am to something else?
TOM: I thought you knew, Claire.
CLAIRE: I know--what you pass for. But are you beauty? Beauty is that
only living pattern--the trying to take pattern. Are you trying?
TOM: Within myself, Claire. I never thought you doubted that.
CLAIRE: Beauty is it. (_she turns to Breath of Life, as if to learn it
there, but turns away with a sob_) If I cannot go to you now--I will
always be alone.
(TOM _takes her in his arms. She is shaken, then comes to rest._)
TOM: Yes--rest. And then--come into joy. You have so much life for joy.
CLAIRE: (_raising her head, called by promised gladness_) We'll run
around together. (_lovingly he nods_) Up hills. All night on hills.
TOM: (_tenderly_) All night on hills.
CLAIRE: We'll go on the sea in a little boat.
TOM: On the sea in a little boat.
CLAIRE: But--there are other boats on other seas, (_drawing back from
him, troubled_) There are other boats on other seas.
TOM: (_drawing her back to him_) My dearest--not now, not now.
CLAIRE: (_her arms going round him_) Oh, I would love those hours with
you. I want them. I want you! (_they kiss--but deep in her is sobbing_)
Reminiscence, (_her hand feeling his arm as we touch what we would
remember_) Reminiscence. (_with one of her swift changes steps back from