R.U.R. (Rossum's Universal Robots)

L. of desk_) How can I be of service to you, Miss Glory? HELENA. I have come-- (_Sits R. of desk._) DOMIN. To have a look at our famous works where people are manufactured. Like all visitors. Well, there is no objection. HELENA. I thought it was forbidden to-- DOMIN. To enter the factory? Yes, of course. Everybody comes here with someone’s visiting card, Miss Glory. HELENA. And you show them-- DOMIN. Only certain things. The manufacture of artificial people is a secret process. HELENA. If you only knew how enormously that-- DOMIN. Interests you. Europe’s talking about nothing else. HELENA. (_Indignantly turning front_) Why don’t you let me finish speaking? DOMIN. (_Drier_) I beg your pardon. Did you want to say something different? HELENA. I only wanted to ask-- DOMIN. Whether I could make a special exception in your case and show you our factory. Why, certainly, Miss Glory. HELENA. How do you know I wanted to say that? DOMIN. They all do. But we shall consider it a special honor to show you more than we do the rest. HELENA. Thank you. DOMIN. (_Standing_) But you must agree not to divulge the least-- HELENA. (_Standing and giving him her hand_) My word of honor. DOMIN. Thank you. (_Looking at her hand_) Won’t you raise your veil? HELENA. Of course. You want to see whether I’m a spy or not--I beg your pardon. DOMIN. (_Leaning forward_) What is it? HELENA. Would you mind releasing my hand? DOMIN. (_Releasing it_) Oh, I beg _your_ pardon. HELENA. (_Raising veil_) How cautious you have to be here, don’t you? DOMIN. (_Observing her with deep interest_) Why, yes. Hm--of course--We--that is-- HELENA. But what is it? What’s the matter? DOMIN. I’m remarkably pleased. Did you have a pleasant crossing? HELENA. Yes. DOMIN. No difficulty? HELENA. Why? DOMIN. What I mean to say is--you’re so _young_. HELENA. May we go straight into the factory? DOMIN. Yes. Twenty-two, I think. HELENA. Twenty-two what? DOMIN. Years. HELENA. Twenty-one. Why do you want to know? DOMIN. Well, because--as-- (_Sits on desk nearer her_) You will make a long stay, won’t you? HELENA. (_Backing away R._) That depends on how much of the factory you show me. DOMIN. (_Rises; crosses to her_) Oh, hang the factory. Oh, no, no, you shall see everything, Miss Glory. Indeed you shall. Won’t you sit down? (_Takes her to couch R.C. She sits. Offers her cigarette from case at end of sofa. She refuses._) HELENA. Thank you. DOMIN. But first would you like to hear the story of the invention? HELENA. Yes, indeed. DOMIN. (_Crosses to L.C. near desk_) It was in the year 1920 that old Rossum, the great physiologist, who was then quite a young scientist, took himself to the distant island for the purpose of studying the ocean fauna. (_She is amused._) On this occasion he attempted by chemical synthesis to imitate the living matter known as protoplasm until he suddenly discovered a substance which behaved exactly like living matter although its chemical composition was different. That was in the year 1932, exactly four hundred and forty years after the discovery of America. Whew-- HELENA. Do you know that by heart? DOMIN. (_Takes flowers from desk to her_) Yes. You see, physiology is not in my line. Shall I go on? HELENA. (_Smelling flowers_) Yes, please. DOMIN. (_Center_) And then, Miss Glory, Old Rossum wrote the following among his chemical experiments: “Nature has found only one method of organizing living matter. There is, however, another method, more simple, flexible and rapid which has not yet occurred to Nature at all. This second process by which life can be developed was discovered by me today.” Now imagine him, Miss Glory, writing those wonderful words over some colloidal mess that a dog wouldn’t look at. Imagine him sitting over a test tube and thinking how the whole tree of life would grow from him, how all animals would proceed from it, beginning with some sort of a beetle and ending with a _man_. A man of different substance from us. Miss Glory, that was a tremendous moment. (_Gets box of candy from desk and passes it to her._) HELENA. Well-- DOMIN. (_As she speaks his portable PHONE lights up and he answers_) Well--Hello!--Yes--no, I’m in conference. Don’t disturb me. HELENA. Well? DOMIN. (_Smile_) Now, the thing was how to get the life _out_ of the test tubes, and hasten development and form organs, bones and nerves, and so on, and find such substances as catalytics, enzymes, hormones in short--you understand? HELENA. Not much, I’m afraid. DOMIN. Never mind. (_Leans over couch and fixes cushion for her back_) There! You see with the help of his tinctures he could make whatever he wanted. He could have produced a Medusa with the brain of Socrates or a worm fifty yards long-- (_She laughs. He does also; leans closer on couch, then straightens up again_) --but being without a grain of humor, he took into his head to make a vertebrate or perhaps a man. This artificial living _matter_ of his had a raging thirst for life. It didn’t mind being sown or mixed together. That couldn’t be done with natural albumen. And that’s how he set about it. HELENA. About what? DOMIN. About imitating Nature. First of all he tried making an artificial dog. That took him several years and resulted in a sort of stunted calf which _died_ in a few days. I’ll show it to you in the museum. And _then_ old Rossum started on the manufacture of _man_. HELENA. And I’m to divulge this to nobody? DOMIN. To nobody in the world. HELENA. What a pity that it’s to be discovered in _all_ the school books of both Europe and America. (_BOTH laugh._) DOMIN. Yes. But do you know what _isn’t_ in the school books? That old Rossum was mad. Seriously, Miss Glory, you must keep this to yourself. The old crank wanted to actually make _people_. HELENA. But you do make people. DOMIN. _Approximately_--Miss Glory. But old Rossum meant it literally. He wanted to become a sort of scientific substitute for _God_. He was a fearful materialist, and that’s why he did it all. His sole purpose was nothing more or less than to prove that God was no longer necessary. (_Crosses to end of couch_) Do you know anything about anatomy? HELENA. Very little. DOMIN. Neither do I. Well-- (_He laughs_) --he then decided to manufacture everything as in the human body. I’ll show you in the museum the bungling attempt it took him ten years to produce. It was to have been a _man_, but it lived for three days only. Then up came _young_ Rossum, an engineer. He was a wonderful fellow, Miss Glory. When he saw what a mess of it the old man was making he said: “It’s absurd to spend ten years making a man. If you can’t make him quicker than Nature, you might as well shut up shop.” Then he set about learning anatomy himself. HELENA. There’s nothing about _that_ in the school books? DOMIN. No. The school books are full of paid advertisements, and rubbish at that. What the school books say about the _united efforts_ of the two great Rossums is all a fairy tale. They used to have dreadful rows. The old _atheist_ hadn’t the slightest conception of industrial _matters_, and the end of it was that Young Rossum shut him up in some laboratory or other and let him fritter the time away with his monstrosities while he himself started on the business from an _engineer’s_ point of view. Old Rossum _cursed_ him and before he died he managed to botch up two physiological horrors. Then one day they found him dead in the _laboratory_. And that’s his whole story. HELENA. And what about the young man? DOMIN. (_Sits beside her on couch_) Well, anyone who has looked into human anatomy will have seen at once that man is too complicated, and that a good engineer could make him more simply. So young Rossum began to _overhaul_ anatomy to see what could be left out or simplified. In short--But this isn’t boring you, Miss Glory? HELENA. No, indeed. You’re--It’s awfully interesting. DOMIN. (_Gets closer_) So young Rossum said to himself: “A man is something that feels happy, plays the piano, likes going for a walk, and, in fact, wants to do a whole lot of things that are really unnecessary.” HELENA. Oh. DOMIN. That are unnecessary when he wants-- (_Takes her hand_) --let us say, to weave or count. Do you play the piano? HELENA. Yes. DOMIN. That’s good. (_Kisses her hand. She lowers her head._) Oh, I beg your pardon! (_Rises_) But a working machine must _not_ play the piano, must not feel happy, must not do a whole lot of other things. A gasoline motor must not have tassels or ornaments, Miss Glory. And to manufacture artificial workers is the same thing as the manufacture of a gasoline motor. (_She is not interested._) The process must be the simplest, and the product the best from a practical point of view. (_Sits beside her again_) What sort of worker do you think is the _best_ from a practical point of view? HELENA. (_Absently_) What? (_Looks at him._) DOMIN. What sort of worker do you think is the best from a practical point of view? HELENA. (_Pulling herself together_) Oh! Perhaps the one who is most honest and hard-working. DOMIN. No. The one that is the _cheapest_. The one whose requirements are the _smallest_. Young Rossum invented a worker with the minimum amount of requirements. He had to simplify him. He rejected everything that did not contribute directly to the progress of work. Everything that makes man more expensive. In fact he _rejected man_ and made the _Robot_. My dear Miss Glory, the Robots are not people. Mechanically they are more _perfect_ than we are; they have an enormously developed intelligence, but they have no soul. (_Leans back._) HELENA. How do you know they have no soul? DOMIN. Have you ever seen what a Robot looks like inside? HELENA. No. DOMIN. Very neat, very simple. Really a beautiful piece of work. Not much _in_ it, but everything in flawless order. The product of an engineer _is_ technically at a higher pitch of perfection than a product of Nature. HELENA. But man is supposed to be the product of God. DOMIN. All the worse. God hasn’t the slightest notion of modern engineering. Would you believe that young Rossum then proceeded to play at being God? HELENA. (_Awed_) How do you mean? DOMIN. He began to manufacture Super-Robots. Regular giants they were. He tried to make them twelve feet tall. But you wouldn’t believe what a failure they were. HELENA. A failure? DOMIN. Yes. For no reason at all their limbs used to keep snapping off. “Evidently our planet is too small for giants.” Now we only make Robots of normal size and of very high-class human finish. HELENA. (_Hands him flower; he puts it in button-hole_) I saw the first Robots at home. The Town Council bought them for--I mean engaged them for work. DOMIN. No. _Bought_ them, Miss Glory. Robots are bought and sold. HELENA. These were employed as street-sweepers. I saw them sweeping. They were so strange and quiet. DOMIN. (_Rises_) Rossum’s Universal Robot factory doesn’t produce a uniform brand of Robots. We have Robots of _finer_ and _coarser_ grades. The best will live about _twenty_ years. (_Crosses to desk. HELENA looks in her pocket mirror. He pushes button on desk._) HELENA. Then they die? DOMIN. Yes, they get used up. (_Enter MARIUS, R. DOMIN crosses to C._) Marius, bring in samples of the manual labor Robot. (_Exit MARIUS R.C._) I’ll show you specimens of the two extremes. This first grade is comparatively inexpensive and is made in vast quantities. (_MARIUS re-enters R.C. with two manual labor ROBOTS. MARIUS is L.C., ROBOTS R.C., DOMIN at desk. MARIUS stands on tiptoes, touches head,