•^^ omance A Play in Three Acts with a Prologue and an Epilogue by Edward Sheldon pni«« Of roHtm mncm. •tat(oneiiv co., 2» wc»t 33nD «t., n. r. Copyright. 191 (As a work not reproduced in copies for sale.) Keprdduced in copies for sale February, 1913, and copies deposited in copyright office i'ebruary. 1913. 'C\ ^VxaxxitXtx^ In the Prologue : BISHOP ARMSTRONG. HARRY ) SUZETTE j His grandchildren. In the Story: THOMAS ARMSTRONG. Rector of St. Giles. CORNELIUS VAN TUYL, of Van Tnyl & Co., Bankers. FRED LIVINGSTONE. HARRY PUTNAM. THE BUTLER at the Rectory. A SERVANT. A BELL BOY. MISS ARMSTRONG. The Rector's Aunt. MISS SUSAN VAN TUYL. MRS. RUTHERFORD. MRS. FROTHINGHAM. MISS FROTHINGHAM. SIGNORA VANNUCCI. MME. MARGHERITA CAVALLINI. GUESTS of Van Tuyl, etc. "My thoughts at the end of the long, long day Fly over the hills and far away !" ROMANCE. THE PROLOGUE: The Bishop's library in his house on Wash- ington Square. About ten o'clock. THE STORY ACT I. Over forty years ago. The blue drawing-room in Cornelius Van Tuyl's house, 58 Fifth Avenue. A November evening. ACT n. The Study in St. Giles' Church Rectory, East 8th Street. The afternoon of New Year's Eve. ACT HI. Late that night. Mme. Cavallini's apartments in the Brevoort House. After her farewell appearance as "Mignon." THE EPILOGUE: The Bishop's library again. Midnight. PLACE : New York. Time : Now and the '60's. ROMANCE. The Prologue SCENE: The Bishop's library in Washington Square. The two walls meet back at a wide angle. At right are two windows, with heavy curtains drawn. At left is a large fireplace and white marble mantel and, above it. a door. There are high bookcases running up to the ceiling, set in both walls, wherever there is any space. In corner at back, where the two walls meet, is a Victrola, of sober mahogany. Before the fireplace, half facing audience is the Bishop's big arm-chair. At right, is a big mahogany table-desk, arranged in an orderly way with electric lamp, telephone, desk-furniture, books, memoranda, files, etc. The chair is behind it. between the windows. The whole room is one of quiet dignity, — slightly old- fashioned in efifect, yet very comfortable. It is night. The lamp on the desk is turned on and there is a cheerful wood fire burning. In his arm-chair before the fiire sits Bishop Armstrong, a charming, gentle, humorous old man, over seventy years old. At the right, Suzette, a pretty young girl of seventeen, is sitting reading a newspaper. SUZETTE : — ("Reading head-linesy — "Reputation of Sky- scraper — Measures." (She yawns) — "Borough President gives to Board of Estimates the Report on Improvement." (Looking up) — Sounds dull, doesn't it? THE BISHOP :— No— but if you think so, try the next. (Reading) — "President in the West — yesterday's Speech at Cheyenne" — Is that the way you pronounce it? — "Crops, Race Sui- cide, and Tariff Reform." (Looking up.) It looks dreadfully long! Now, grandpa, speak the truth ! Wouldn't you really rather hear Caro Nome on the Victrola? THE BISHOP:— Well, my dear, perhaps I would. Where's Harry? He said, he said he wanted to speak to me after dinner about something important. SUZETTE:— Mf VictroIaJ— Oh, he just went out. He'll be back soon. (The record begins) There, grandpa! Isn't that a splendid record? THE BISUOF:— (Singing.) Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta ? Yes, a rather fine voice — who is it? SUZETTE :— Tetrazzini. THE BISHOP:— Ah, you should have heard Patti sing this at the Academy in '72 — I SUZETTE : — Now, grandpa, I can't help being young and any- way I'm sure that Melba and Destin and Farrar are every bit as good as your Cavillinis and Pattis and Crisis. And as for Caruso — ! THE BISHOP:— Ah, my dear! T have heard ^^ano'— (Hum- ming again) — Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Now — (He listens) — Ah, well, fair — fair! (With a sigh) After all, there's no one like Verdi. SUZETTE:— Grandpa? THE BISHOP:— Yes, dear' SUZETTE:— (Beguiling ly J— Which do you think would be more apt to melt you into a perfectly angelic, Bavarian-cream sort of mood — "O Parigi" from Traviata or the "Sextette" from Luciaf ROMANCE. THE BISHOP: — I'm melted already. I'm just rmining over the side of the dish. SUZETTE:— (Looking at him) Really? (Doubtfully)— No, I think you need one more. I want you very, very soft ! — (Picking out a record) — Oh, here's a brand-new Destinni ! That'll do it ! THE BISHOP:— What's the opera? SUZETTE: — (Adjusting the record) — Wait and see! (The ma- chine starts playing the accompaniment) — Do you remember it? THE BISHOP: — (Looking away) — Yes — yes. I remember — (The song begins — he rouses himself suddenly) Don't play that, Suzette. I know I'm foolish, but it makes me rather sad. SUZETTE:— (Stopping the record)—! thought you'd like it! It's from Mignon! THE BISHOP:— Yes. I know— but— /"/" a different tone)— Suppose we have a little Harry Lauder for a change? SUZETTE:— "I love a lassie?" THE BlSnOF:—(Reliered)—l think that would be very pleasant indeed. SUZETTE : — And you a Bishop of the Episcopal Church ! — (She puts on the Lauder record) — There! — (She starts on the machine). THE BISHOP: — (Leaning back in his chair with a chuckle) — Ta — ta — ta — ta-a — ta ! SUZETTE: — (Leaning on the arm of his chair) — Grandpa, I've got something to tell you. THE BISHOP— Yes? SUZETTE : — And I don't know whether or not you'll like it. THE BISHOP:— I like everything. It's my greatest fault! SUZETTE ■.—(Suddenly smiling)— Oh, oh ! What about Wag- ner ? THE BISHOP:— ("FzVw/j^^-Except Wagner. Yes, that's true — I can't stand Wagner ! SUZETTE: — Well, I doubt if you can stand this, either. THE BISHOP: — Suppose you give me a try! SUZETTE:— All right. (Turns off record.)— It's Harry. He's gone and done it. THE BISHOP:— What? SUZETTE: — (All in a rush). — I mean he hasn't really gone and done it, because he naturally can't do anything without her and she says she won't do a thing until you've said it's all right ; so that's why Harry wanted to speak to you tonight and you mustn't breathe one word about my telling you — you see, he's planning to do it all himself. I thought I'd better break it to j^ou gently. (Slight pause) — Don't you think I've been wise, grandpa, to break it to you gently? THE BISHOP:— You haven't broken it at all, my dear. I don't know what you're talking about. SUZETTE: — Why. grandpa, I've just told you! Harry's en- gaged to a girl named Lucille Anderson ! THE BISHOP:— Oh! I must be getting deaf. Dear me! And who is Lucille Anderson? SUZETTE :— Well, that's just it! Lucile's an— an artist! THE BISHOP:— You mean she paints? ROMANCE. SU2ETTE :— No, she doesn't exactly paint. You know therc'rc all kinds of artists, grandpa, and Lucile — well, Lucile's art is — er, a beautiful art, it's the art of — er — THE BISHOP:— Well? SUZETTE: — The art of — er — impersonation on the stage. — (A slight pause.) THE BISHOP:— An actress! SUZETTE :— Yes. (Nervously.) Well, it doesn't make any difference. Lots of nice girls are nowadays. THE BISHOP:— (To himself)— An actress—! SUZETTE: — (Bursting out) — But she's a perfect dear and her father was a well-known lawyer in Toronto, Canada, but he died and left her without a cent and her influence over Harry is very, very good and I'm sure you'll love her when you get to know her — I do, anyway, and I've only seen her four times — (Coaxingly) — Grandpa, remember — it's our own Harry ! THE BISHOP:— ('Dn/j'j-That's just what I am remembering, dear. He always did have very little sense! SUZETTE : — (Reproachfully) — Why, grandpa, he played quar- ter on the "varsity!" And you said yourself that took a lot of brains ! THE BISHOP:— r^m/Zm^^-Did I? Well this proves I was mistaken. SUZETTE:— Oh, dear! I— (Suddenly) Wait! I heard the front-door ! Here he is — ! (She slips off the arm of his chair) — Now remember ! Don't you get me into trouble ! THE BISHOP:— I won't! SUZETTE:— Promise? THE BISHOP: — Cross my heart and hope to die! — (Enter Harry from left. He is an attractive young man of about twenty- two or three — restless, young and impetuous. He wears a dinner- coat.)— 'V^eW ! We'd almost given you up ! HARRY:— (^/// at ease)— I had to make a call. Didn't Suzie tell you? THE BISHOP: — (Tranquilly) — Oh. yes, she said something or other. Well, what about our little chat? HARRY : — (Nervously) — Your — your rheumatism is not bothering you too much, is it, sir? Tomorrow would — THE BISHOP: — Oh no! Suzie's played all my aches away with Rigoletto and Harry Lauder. I'm fit as a fiddle, my boy, so put another log on the fire and go ahead. HARRY : — All right, sir. (He puts on the log, motioning the while for Susette to leave.) S\]Z^Ti:¥.:— (Shutting the Victrola)—There\—(To the Bishop) — I'll come in later and finish the P^*^i bcktfc- tou go to bed. (To Harry in a lower voice) — Don't worry. I've got feira going ! HARRY :— Thanks, Old Girl. (She goes out— left.) HARRY : — (Turning resolutely to the Bishop) — Grandfather, I have something I want to — THE BlSnOV ■.—(Gently)— U you go to my desk. Harry, and open the second drawer from the top on the left-hand side, I think you'll see a box of cigars — (Harry obeys.) — Thank you. Can you find them? — (Harry returns with the box) — Won't you have one? — ROMANCE. (Harry shakes his head) — I know they're not as good as yours, but I can't afford the very best brands. HARRY : — I don't feel like smoking now. Grandfather, I've come to you in order to — THE BISHOV -.—(Interrupting gently) Er— just one moment. I haven't any match ! HARRY:— Oh, Lord! Excuse mt\—(He lights the Bishop's cigar) — There ! Now I want to tell you what's on my mind, grand- father. It's been there for some time and I — I — THE BISHOP:— Yes? HARRY: — (Embarrassed) — I think I ought to — to get it off. THE BISHOP:— Well? HARRY : — You see — it's this way. — (Pause), THE BISHOP:— rMi/c?/3j;— What way? HARRY : — Hang it, I don't know how to put the thing, but — but — (Looking up and seeing the Bishop smiling at him) — Well, I'll be — ! You're on! You've been on all the time! THE BISHOP: — Your intuition is overwhelming, Harry, — but it's correct. As you say — I'm on. (Pause.) — HARRY : — (Wrathfully looking at door.) — I might have known no girl could keep a secret I THE BISHOP:— ('//a.y///^';— It's my fault! I wrung it out of her! I kicked her shins! I — I twisted her arms! HARRY: — (Disgusted) — And now you're making fun of me! Well — ! (He straightens up defiantly.) THE BISHOP : — (Suddenly tender) — I'm not making fun of you, Harry, HARRY : — (Uncomfortably) — I meant to tell you myself about Lucile. I didn't want anybody else butting in. THE BISHOP: — Of course — I know. You must love her a great deal ! HARRY -.—(Still a little sulkily)— Well I do. THE BISHOP:— And she's very pretty, isn't she? HARRY :— (Brightening)— Did Suzie tell you? THE BISHOP:— No— I just guessed— that's all. HARRY : — (Enthusiastically) — And she's awfully clever, too — acts like a streak — and she has just bunches of character! Why, when it comes down to it. she's ten times too good for me ! THE BISHOP :— (With a tender, sad little smile, looking far away) — Of course she is — of course — of course ! HARRY : — I met her at the Randall's — you know, that painter fellow — and now she's all alone in a rotten boarding-house on 10th Street, and she has no work and her family are all dead — and so I really think I ought to marry her right off. Now don't you agree with me?. (Pause) — Well! Don't you? THE BISHOP: — (Rousing himself with an effort) — I don't know, Harry. You see. you're so young — you're just beginning life, and you may change and grow, my dear boy, there may come a time when you'll need more than any little actress can ever give you — (Harry makes a movement). Oh, it's all right now, you love her — I know that ! But are you quite sure, Harry, that you'll always love her just the way you love her now and nothing* hid- den in the future — or in the past — can ever shake your faith and beat you down and break your heart? HARRY : — I don't know what you mean. ROMANCE. THE BISHOP:— You must be very, very sure, my boy — or else you're not fair to yourself — and what's worse — I'm afraid you're not fair to her. HARRY '.—(Bursting out)— Oh, what's the good of talking! I just knew it would be this way! There's absolutely no use trying to do things with my family — they're all alike — narrow, conven- tional, dry-as-dust! (Turning away suddenly) — If only dad and mummy were alive, they'd understand ! THE BISHOP:— r/Zwr/y— Don't say things like that, Harry! You know I've done my best for Suzette and you. HARRY :— (Penitent)— Oh, I didn't mean that, grandpa. But you see, it's a long time now since you've been young and I think it's sort of hard for you to remember back and — sympathise with a fellow I (Going on quickly) — Oh, I know you're awfully wise and you can see clear through people and understand *em that way, but this is different — I don't believe you ever felt the way I'm feeling now — and so — (Gulping) — Oh, well, there's no use going on. Thanks lor trying, grandpa — I won't keep you up any longer ! (He is at the door ready to leave.) THE BISHOP:— Where are you going? HARRY: — (A trifle defiantly) — I'm going to get married! THE BISHOP:— To-night? HARRY : — Yes, I got the license this afternoon. (Slight pause.) THE BISHOP:— Come in, Harry, and shut the door. HARRY -.—(Doing so)— What do you want? THE BISHOP: — You said I couldn't remember back and realize how one felt when one was young — Well, I do remember. Because no matter how old one grows, Harry, there always are some things that keep a little youth still burning in one's heart. HARRY : — I didn't mean to hurt, grandpa. THE BISHOP: — You didn't my dear boy. But you've madt me think of something that I'd supposed I'd forgot — ten — it's so long ago since it came up in my mind. It's something I never told to anyone before — I used to think I never would. Oh, well — times change, and I didn't realize then I was to have a grandson just like you. I wonder, Harry, if you'll have time to wait and hear about it? HARRY:— (Distrustfully)— U you think it's something that's going to change my mind about Lucile, you might as well stop right here ! (As' the Bishop rises with difficulty and goes slowly over to the desk) — What is it, grandpa? Can't l get it? THE BISHOR :—( Suddenly, with a sharp intake of breath)— A-ah ! HARRY: — (Sympathetically) — Your rheumatism, sir? THE BISHOP: — (With a smile) — Don't mention rheumatism now, my boy. (He stands for a moment above the desk and shuts his eyes) — I'm only twenty-eight years old! (Taking a bunch of keys from his pocket, he unlocks a lower drawer and, after some fumbling comes up with a small box of mahogany which he lays on the desk before him.) — Do you know what's in this little box' HARRY:— No. sir. What? THE BISHOP -.—(With a radiant smile)— Romance, my boy, the perfume of romance! HARRY: — How — how do you mean, sir? (Music begins.) ROMANCE. THE BISHOP:— Look! (He opens the box and tenderly takes out a little whisp of lace.) HARRY .—Mw^fi?^— What is it, grandpa? A handkerchief? THE mSnOV:— (Nodding)— A handkerchief. (He undoes it and discloses a feiv old flowers) — White violets — (He sniffs them, then smiles and shakes his head) — They're dried and yellow now — their sweetness is all gone — I'm an old man, Harry — but somehow — why, it seems like yesterday — HARRY :—(Wonderingly)— What, sir? THE BISHOP: — (Turning out the desk-lamp, and crossing to his chair again holding the flowers and handkerchief very carefully in his hands) — Ah, that's what I'm going to tell you now ! Sit down, my boy — (As Harry sits on the floor by his feet, looking up at himJ — Are you comfortable there? That's right! Well, it was over forty years ago — forty years — dear me, how the time flies ! and I was the young Rector of St. Giles, you know. That was before I married your grandmother — God bless her! Although I'd known her nearly all my life. Well, Harry, one night — in November, it was — I went to an evening party at Old Cornelius Van Tuyl's house and — (Harry is seated on the floor, looking up into the Bishop's face. And, as he speaks, there is music and the whole scene melts into the dark. The music swells, growing sweeter and louder, then falls and dies away, as the lights come softly up, revealing the stage set for Act I.) 10 ROMANCE. Act 1 SCENE : Evening reception at Mr. Cornelius Van Tuyrs house, about 1867. It is a small balcony-room, overlooking drawing-rooms belov^'. Stairs in centre coming up from floor below, bteps at each side of well leading to semi-circular gallery at back, overlooking rooms below. In fore-ground at right a couch turned slightly to face audience. At its head a small marble-topped table. At left of foreground, a tete-a-tete chair. Seat running along balustrade which encircles staircase well. Lamps in foreground give a mellow light which contrasts with the brilliance of the lighting in the rooms below. As the lights go up there is the subdued sound of voices and laughter from the rooms below, the faint sound of a distant orches- tra playing a quaint polka. There are several people on the stage. At right of gallery at back stand two men-about-town. looking out over the rooms below. At centre of this gallery are a young man and girl, talking, laughing and flirting. Another young man and a girl — she on his arm — are coming down the steps at left, chatting gaily. They turn and descend the main staircase. Mrs. Rutherford. a rather pretty, affected woman — is sitting on the couch at right. Besides her is Miss Susan Van Tuyl, a sensible, healthy, attractive young woman of thirty-two or three, dressed simply and charmingly in white. They are listening to Mr. Harry Putnam, an elderly beau of the period, who stands twirling his moustache, his feet crossed, ogling and talking to them. Mrs. Frothingham, a buxom, florid dowager, very richly and fussily dressed, sits on the tete-a-tete ^t left with her daughter, a pretty young girl of eighteen. THE YOUNG MAN : — (To young girl on his arm, as they come down — left — from gallery) — A very brilliant party — don't you think? THE GIRL : — Oh, quite the most elegant affair of the winter ! — (They turn to the stairs.) THE YOUNG MAN : — (To another young man just coming up) — Oh. Frank — is the dancing salon crowded? THE SECOND YOUNG MAN :— Not just now. They're be- ginning to serve supper. THE FIRST YOUNG MAN :— ^To the ^/r/;— Splendid I— (Thev go downstairs.) THE SECOND YOUNG ^lAN -.—(To Mrs. Frothingham, with a bow) — Mrs. Frothingham. niav I have the honor of this Polka? MRS. FROTHINGHAM :— You droll wretch— don't you know my dancing days are over? THE YOUNG U\^:—(To the girl)— Miss Frothingham, then, mav be persuaded to atone for — MISS VROTUINGUAM:— (Rising)— Oi course I may! I love the polka ! — (They turn tozcards the stairs.) MRS. FROTUl^GUAM:— (Rising)— Mv dearest Susan- Agatha — forgive me if I come and talk to you I (She joins the group at couch — right.) — (Meanwhile the two men-about-tozvn are heard to speak from gallery, ivhere they are looking at crozvd below.) — ROMANCE. 11 THE FIRST MAN :— Who's that woman with the diamonds- down there by the door? I thought at first it might be Cavallini. THE SECOND MAN -.—(Turning away)—lw/3';— Thanks, sir, but I'd rather stay here. I want to — to talk to you. (Awkwardly) — I don't quite know how to begin, sir, as it's a rather important — and at the same time a rather— a rather delicate matter, but — hut— (Suddenly) — Fm not by any chance keeping you from your guests? VAN TUYL:— Tom. TOM:— Yes. sir? VAN TUYh:— (Putting his hand on Tom's arm)— It's— it's about Susan, isn't it? TOM:— Yes. but— VAN TUYL:— Then it's all right. My boy, I'm as glad as can be ! TOM:— (Pus:;led)— But what's all right? I'm afraid sir, I don't follow you. VAN TUYL: — Why, aren't you asking me if — (He looks at him sharply.) TOM : — I'm sorry, sir, but it's advice I wish to offer you. VAN TUYL:— Advice— ? TOM : — Yes, I regret it, but it's my duty. VAN TUYL:— In that case, pray go on. (He sits).— Won't you sit down? TOM : — No. thanks. (Ingenuously.) — Mr. Van Tuyl, I suppose some people would say that after all you'd done for St. Giles and me. it wasn't in my place to suggest anything — VAN TUYL : — Nonsense, Tom. Do you know you're getting to look more like your dear mother every day? TOM: — No, am I? (Resuming.) — But after all, I'm your rector and I feel I've got to — to — VAN TUYL : — Quite right, my boy, I respect your feelings. Well? TOM : — Do you know, Mr. Van Tuyl, that there's a woman downstairs whose reputation is — VAN TUYL :—('Ca/m/3»;— Whoever she is, Tom, she's one of my guests. TOM : — (Persisting) — But she's a woman whose — immoralities are notorious — VAN TUYl.:— (Sternly)— Tom\ TOM : — Excuse me, sir. I'm speaking as the rector of St. Giles ! VAN TUYl. ■.—(Bowing his head)— Go on. TOM : — (Unconsciously assuming his pulpit manners) — A type that disgraces even the effete and vice-worn civilizations, but from which — thank God! — our country has been comparatively free! VAN i:VY'L:—(Politely)—Ah—l TOM : — (Quickly) — We have our sins, sir — I know them well. But vice till now was forced to crawl her way through poverty and darkness, or bask in the false light of an abandoned stage! She never dared to rear her slimy head and look into our homes — nay, touch the white hands of our wives and daughters I VAN TVYl.:— (Smoking)— And nieces? TOM : — (Hastily) — And nieces. (Resuming) — And is it time, now after all these years of honest decency to open wide our 16 ROMANCE. doors to a Du Barry? To welcome Messalina to our hospitable board ? VAN Tl]YL:—(2yiildly)—lt isn't Sunday, Tom. TOM :— I ask you, sir, as friend and clergj^man, is it fair, is it wise, is it right— th3.t your pure threshold should be crossed by Mme. Cavallini? (Pause.) VAN TUYL:— How old are you, Tom? TOM:— (^Lo^/j^/yj— Er— tw^enty-eight. VAN TIJYL ■.—(IVith a wistful smile)— Ui^s a simple thing when you're twenty-eight. TOM:— (Loftily)— U one has standards— yes. VAN TUYL:— Standards? TOM :— Of right and wrong. I mean. VAN TUYL:— Oh, ves,— I had those standards once. TOM:— (ShockedJ— Once, sir? VAN TUYL:— And then one day I got 'em all mixed up— and the right seemed wrong and the wrong seemed right, and I just didn't know where I was at. TOM:— Oh, come, sir! VAN TUYL:— And now I'm fifty-one years old, my boy, and— (With a chuckle)— weW, I'm dashed if I ever got 'em straight again TOM : — (Distressed)— Oh, sir, don't talk that way ! VAN TUYL:— (Soberly)— l\e learnt a few things, though- stray spars I've clung to in all this storm and ocean — One's how to value people that are good— that's why you're rector of St. Giles, mv boy — and another's how to pity people that ar — TOM :— Bad. VAN TUYL : — No, not bad, but there're some poor devils who find it harder to be good than you. that's all. TOM : — (Impulsively) — Oh, what a fool I've been ! I might have known there wasn't a word of truth in what that puppy said. VAN TUYL:— What puppy? TOM : — A young he-gossip, sir, who reeled off lies about this woman. And I was ass enough to believe him, and come to you and talk like a— like a— like a confounded prig! I wonder you don't throw me out of the house! VAN TUYL: — (With a twinkle) — You're my rector, Tom, TOM: — Do you think you forgive me, sir? (Just here the hand downstairs begins a beguiling Straus waits.) VAN TUYL : — (Rising) — There's nothing to forgive, my boy. And now run downstairs and ask Susan for some supper. TOM:— But, I'm not dressed — VAN TUYL : — Oh, nonsense ! But if you'd rather, go into the library. She'll bring it up to you. (Meanwhile, there is heard down the staircase the sound of men's voices, high and eager, and over and above them, a woman's laughter. This comes nearer and nearer. ' TOM :— But I'm not— VAN TUYL:— (Clapping him on the shoulder)— Don't tell me you're not hungry! You're twenty-eight 3'^ears old — and when a young man's twenty-eight — hello! Who's this? (He turns and glances at back, as the sound of the voices and laughter groivs nearer.) ROMANCE. 17 A WOMAN'S VOICE:— (Just off, rising above the others.)— Go 'vay — go 'vay — you mus' not come vit' me — no — no — you are naught-tee — you are mos' 'orr-r-rible naught-tee men I I evair see — (She comes on ivith the group of young dandies who have accompanied her. She stands a moment at the top of the stair- way at back, laughing and talking, always facing in the direction whence she came, — away from Tom and Fan Tuyl. She is a bewitching, brilliant little foreign creature — beautiful in a dark, Italian way, she is uiarvellously dressed in voluminous gauze and her dress is trimmed with tiny roses. Her black hair hangs in curls on either side of her face and three long, soft curls hang down her low-cut back. On her head is a wreath of little roses. She wears long diamond earrings, a riviere of diamonds is about her* neck, diamonds gleam on her corsage, her wrists and hands. She carries a fan and bouquet in a sihrer filagree holder. She speaks in a soft Italian voice, with quick bird-like gestures. She seems Jierself a good deal like an exquisite, gleaming little humming bird.) ONE OF THE YOUNG MEN :— But it's iny waltz ! ANOTHER: — Don't listen to him, madame, you know you promised me to — A THIRD: — (Interrupting) — Nonsense, Willie — my name's on her card ! THE FIRST:— It's no such thing. THE SECOND:— I appeal to her! THE THIRD :— Madame,— RITA : — (Interrupting) — Oh — ! Vhy you makesuch a beeg, beeg noise? THE FIRST YOUNG MA-N -.—(Frankly)— Yon'r^ driving us crazy — can't you understand? RITA:— (Mock serious)— \I\\d.\., Me—? Poor, leetle me? You beeg bad boy, you make of me — 'ow you say? — vone seelly joke! THE CHORUS :— "We don't !" "It's true !" "Of course it is !" RITA: — (Laughing) — Go make de love to dose be-e-autiful Amer-r-ican ladies wid de long nose an' de neck full of leetle bones — ! ONE OF THE YOUNG MEN :— But I want to make love to you! ANOTHER:— And so do I ! A THIRD:— I do, too. THE OTHERS :— And I and I ! RITA: — Ouf ! You cannot all make de love to me — so look! I tell you — (They all gather nearer.) ONE OF THEM:— What? ANOTHER :— Tell us! RITA : — (Triumphantly) — You shall not any of you make de love to me ! CYLORUS:— (Disappointed)— ''Oh, m2id2imt\" "Please!" "You must!" etc. RITA:— No— no! I stay here vid Meestaire Van Tuyl. CHORUS:— "Oh. don't!" "What a shame!" "Please come downstairs !" etc, RITA : — But listen now ! Vich vone of you, 'em catch dis peenk camellia look — 'e drive me 'ome ! (She holds up the flower.) 18 ROMANCE. THE AlEX : — (Surging forward to snatch) — "Give me it!" "Oh, madame!" "Get out of the way!" "It's mine!" RITA : — (Laughing and tossing it over the balustrade) — Eet is all gone — so run — run qvick ! Oh, 'e has fallen himself down — dat leetle meestaire ! Povrino! (Excitedly, looking over balustrade) — Oh — ! Oh — ! You vill be hur-r-rted — (Pointing) — Oh, Dio Guardi — guardi! — (Clapping her hands and leaning over the balustrade) — All r-r-right — all r-r-right — 30U meestaire vid de beeg moustache — Bene! capita! You take me 'ome ! — (She kisses her hand and turns away, still laugh- ing) — Dey are so fr-r-rightful-ee funn-ee, dose — (She suddenly sees Tom, who has been standing quite still staring at her all the time. She stops. The words die away from her lips. She looks at him. An instant's pause.) TOM : — (Indistinctly, as he tears his gaze away from her) — I — I beg your pardon. (He passes her quickly, his head down, and goes downstairs) — (She turns and follows him with her eyes.) RITA: — (Very simply, still looking after him) — Please, who is dat young man? VAN TUYL : — Tom Armstrong. He's a clergyman. RITA : — (Vaguely) — Cler-gee-man? VAN TUYL :— Abbe— priest— you know. RITA: — (Almost to herself)— Ah— \ Den it vas dat— VAN TUYL:— What? RITA : — (Turning away) — I dunno. Jost somet'ing in his eyes— VAN TUYL: — I don't suppose he'd ever seen anything like you in all his life. RITA : — (Impishly) — No ? My Lor-rd, 'ow very sad I Glancing again downstairs — this time imth a certain calinerie) — an' he vas 'an'some, too ! (Van Tuyl chuckles. She hears him, turns, catches his eye and they laugh together.) VAN TUYL: — (Coming up, still laughing, and taking her in his arms) — You little monkey you ! RITA : — (Softly, her eyes closed, a smile of triumph on her lips) — De beeg Amer-r-rican, 'e like 'is leetle fren' tonight — ye-ss? VAN TVYl^:— (Smiling)— I don't think he could help it if he tried ! R^TA:— (Softly)— 'Dtn please why don' 'e keese 'er? VAN TUYL: — (Laughing and kissing her) — There! RITA : — (Drawing herself azvay suddenly) — My Lor-rrd, I have forget some-t'ing! VAN TUYL :— (Following her)— Come here. RITA : — I have forget dat I am oh, mos' f r-r-rightfull-ee angr-ee ! VAN TUYL:— Not with me? RITA ■.—Si—si! VAN TUYL:— But whv? What have I done? RITA :— (Briefly)— You know. VAN TUYL:— My dear, I don't! RITA : — (Sitting — right) — Ssh ! You mus' not say t'ings like dat — dey are not tr-r-rue ! You 'ave tr-r-reat me ver' bad tonight — yes, you 'ave tr-r-reat me qvite, qvite — on-spikable ! ROMANCE. 19 VAN TUVL:— Why, I've invited you to my house, I've intro- duced to my friends — I've entertained you before all the world — and isn't that exactly what you wanted? RITA : — You ask me to your soiree — dat is tr-r-rue — but you ask me as an ar-r-rtiste, not as a femme dii monde! VAN TUYL :— That isn't so ! RITA: — (Like a flash) — Ah, no? Den please vhy you ask de Oder singer-r-rs, too? VAN TUYL:— Now, Rita, listen— RITA : — I vill not leesten ! You t'ink I am a leetle — vhat you say? — donnacia — une p'tite grisette — VAN TUYL: — My dear, you know I don't think anything of the sort — RITA : — An' eet is not tonight a'lone — oh, no ! Eet is two — t'ree mont's — all de time since tir-r-rst I come to your mos' ver' diz-a-agree-a-ble count-ree ! (With a smile) — xA.-ah ! Eet was not like dis at Millefleurs — I vas not dere a singer-r-r from de opera — at Millefleurs I vas a qveen ! VAN TUYL:— Millefleurs— ! Our Palace of a Thousand Flowers ! RITA : — (Caressingly) — Do you r-r-remember de night I sing to you de Schubert serenade — vhen you valk up an' down below de vindow — ye'es ? An' all de r-r-roses in de vor-r-rld, dey blos- som in de moonlight? Dere vas no vind — de sea vas qvite, qvite steell — an' you valk up an' down — up an' down — an' alvays I sing to you — an' sing — an' sing — an' de vind an' de sea an' de beeg gol* moon — dev all of dem leesten to me I VAN i:\JYl.:— (Rousing himself)— Thsit was Millefleurs. The roses there had brought me back my youth. — (With a sigh.) — I came home, and I lost it, dear. I'll never find it again ! RITA : — Vhat you mean — please ? VAN TUYL:— I'm fifty-one years old. (She instinctively draws away from him a little) — That frightens you? RITA:— Ah, no, but— VAN TUYL:— (GentlyJ— I know how— you must feel. (Pause —Rita. RITA:— Veil? VAN TUYL : — Rita, suppose we finish our — our friendship — end it here tonight. RITA:— To night—? VAN TUYL : — Give me your hand. There ! Now we can talk ! I'm fond of you, dear — I always shall be that — but already I'm beginning to disappoint you. And I'm afraid I'll do' it more and more as time goes on. (Slight pause.) — Look at my hair! There wasn't any gray in it last year — at Millefleurs ! But now — and next year there'll be more! And I've began to be a little deaf and fall asleep in chairs and dream about tomorrow's dinner. My rheumatism, too, came back last week — (She winces and draws away her hand) — Don't blame me, dear — I can't help getting old. RITA:— (Nervously)— Don't— don't talk dat vay! VAN TUYL : — (Quickly) — God knows I'm not complaining ! I've lived my life — and it's been very sweet ! I've done some work, and done it pretty well, and then I've found time to enjoy a great many of the beautiful things that fill this beautiful world! (Politely) — Among them, my dear, I count your voice — and you! 20 ROMANCE. (Resuming) — And yet the fact remains I've lived my life, I'm in the twilight years — oh ! They're golden yet, but that won't last, and they'll grow deep and dim until the last tinge of the sunset's gone and night comes — and it's time to sleep. (With a change of tone) — But you — Good Lord, your life has just begun! Why, the dew's still on the grass — it's sparkling brighter than your brightest diamonds! (He touches the ornaments) — You wear the morning like a wreath upon your hair — don't lose all that, my dear, — don't waste your springtime on a stupid fellow, fifty-one years old ! (Pause.) RITA : — (Coldly) — All r-r-right. (She turns aivay whistling.) VAN TVYL:— (Watching)— VJhsit's the matter? RITA: — Vone more — 'ow you say? — frien'sheep feenished — ! (In a hard voice) — Vone more ! — (With a careless gesture) — Oh, che m' importa — ce ne sono altri! — (She yawns ostentatiously and sniffs her bouquet.) VAN TVYl.:— (Looking at her keenly)— ^\W^ RITA :— Veil— Meestaire Van Tuyl? VAN TUYL: — (Simply) — Haven't you ever — loved someone? RITA: — 'Ow you talk? 'Ave I not love you two — t'ree year-r-rs ? VAN T\]\l^:— (Always very gently)— I don't mean that.— Isn't there someone whose memory is dear and — sort of holy — like an altar-candle, burning in your heart? RITA:— (In a hard voice)— No. VAN TUYL : — Think back — way back. Didn't someone ever make you feel so tender that you didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the thought of him? Wasn't there ever someone you wanted to help so much that it^t hurt you, like a living pain? Wasn't there someone who — RITA: — (Rising suddenly) — Basta ! Basta — ! Stop eet — don' — don' — (A little pause. She recovers herself) — 'ave you felt — like dat? VAN TUYL :— (Nodding)— Yes. RITA:— Who was she? VAN TUYL: — (Simply) — Just a girl. Not wonderful or beau- tiful or gifted — and vet — she meant the world to me. RITA:— Vhat 'appened? VAN TUYL :— She died before I ever told her that I loved her. (Pause.) RITA : — (Not looking at him) — Eet vas a good t'ing — dat she die so soon. VAN TUYL:— What? RITA : — Sometime I vish dat 1 had died before — I ever-r 'ear-rd dose vor-r-rds — "I lo-ove you." VAN TUYL:— What do you mean? RITA: — (Ironically) — I never-r- tol' you of my fir-rst so bee- autiful r-romance? No — ? Veil, I do not often t'ink eet — eet make me feel — not nize. (Pause.) — Eet vas in Venice. I vas jest seexteen years ol' — I play de guitar wide de serenata — (With a sigh) — Ah Madonna! Come sembra lontano! VAN TUYL:— Well? RITA: — (Not looking at him) — A young man come join our serenata — Reppa. 'is name vas — Reppa Aquilone. 'e vas an'some — an' 'e 'ad nize voice — oh, var-y light, you know — but steel — ROMAXXE. 21 simpatico. Ve stan' together-r an' have — I dunno — vone, two duets. An' so eet goes for two — t'ree veeks an' every time 'e smile an' look at me my 'ear-r-rt is full wid gr-r-reat beeg vishes an' I feel like everyt'ing in all de vor-r-rld is new an' bor-r-rn again — an' so vone evening 'e come vid me to my leetle r-room — an' den *e tell me dat 'e love me — an' all night long 'e 'old me close an' keese me — an' I feel 'is 'ot br-r-reat' like a fir-r-re upon my face — an' de beating of 'is 'ear-r-t like strong blows 'ere — against my own — an' den 'e sleep. But I — I do not sleep. I lie steel an' qviet an' in my mind I have vone t'ought — "Is dis vhat people mean vhen dey say — Lo-ove?" An' so de 'ours go b}^ an' de night is feenish. an' a — a — 'ow you say? a long, theen piece of sunlight, it creep in, through my leetle window, an' it shine on Beppa where 'e lie beside me. An' oh I 'e look so young — an' den de sunlight, 'ow you say? — eet tease him, so 'e 'alf vake up, an' 'e veenk 'is eyes an' say "Ah, Rita Ti amo !" — an' den 'e sigh an' put 'is had 'ere — on my shoulder — little a leetle bab-ee dat is tir-r-red, an' 'e go to sleep again. (With a passionate tenderness) — Ah, oh! I put my ar-r-rm about 'im an' I smile an' t'ink "For Lo-ove I vaited all night long, an' wid de day — it come!" VAN TUYL:— And so it does, my dear. RITA: — (In a different voice) — You t'ink so? Vait — ! (She has turned away) — In tvelve 'our — tvelve 'our 'e sell me to an English traveller-r for feefty lira. At fir-r-rst, I t'ink I die — I soffer so. An' den at las' I on'erstan' — an' laugh — an' know dat I 'ave been vone gr-r-reat beeg fool — VAN TUYL:— (Protesting;— My dear, I— RITA : — (Shaking her clenched hands) — A fool to t'ink dere vas some gr-r-reater-r better-r love — a love dat come at mor-r-rning an' shine like sunshine — yes, all t'rough de day I VAN TUYL:— There is. RITA: — (Fiercely) — Dat is vone lie! You 'ear — ? Vone lie! i Voluptuously) — Love is a str-r-ruggle— ver' cr-reul an' sweet — all full of madness an' of whisper-r-red vor-r-rds an' leetle laughs dat br-r-reak into a sigh ! Lover is do hunger-r for anoder-r's flesh — a deep down t' ir-r-rst and dreenk anoder-r's blood — love is a beast dat feed all t'rough de night an vhen de mor-r-rning come — Love dies! (Slight pause.) VAN TUYL: — My dear, I think you must have suffered a great deal. RTTA: — Yes — because I 'ave believe vonce in a lie. but — not any mor-r-re ! (With a grimace) — Oh. vhy ve talk about dose bad ol' t'ings? — see 'ere — I blow dem far avay ! Pst — ! Pouf — ! (With an enchanting smile) — Now look, dey are all gone! (As he does not answer, hut looks at her) — You know what I t'ink — ve'es ? VAN TUYL:— (Smiling)— I never know. RITA : — I t'ink — dat you an' I have not come qvite to de en'. VAN TUYL : — My dear, 3-ou make me very happy. RITA : — So you vill drive wid me tomor-r-row after-r-noon at four-r? VAN TUYL :— I'm honored. RIT.A : — 1 tell you somet'ing — VAN TUYL:— Well? 22 ROMANCE. RITA : — You are iiaugh-tee — but I like you fr-r-rightfuU-ee much ! VAN TUYL : — (Kissing her hand) — (The orchestra begins a waltz downstairs.) Good Heavens, I've forgotten I'm a host! What will those wretched people think! My arm — ? (He offers it to her.) RITA: — (Like an unwilling child.) — Vhen mus' I sing? VAN TUYL:— Let's see. I've asked Artot and Capoul to do the duet from La Traznata — and then I want the sextette from Lucia — and after that we'll all be ready for the Golden Nightin- gale! RITA:— (Lying on the sofa)—Dt Golden Nightingale vill r-r-rest alone 'ere till de time is come. An' oh ! sen' someone vid 'er r-red vine an' er lemon joice — she is so tir-r-red — she cannot sing vidous ! VAN TUYL:— That's all? RITA:— Dat's all. VAN TUYL:— (On the stairs)— You're beautiful tonight. RITA: — (Lying back and looking at him) — Vhy not? My star-r-r is Venus — I vas bor-r-rn for love ! VAN TUYL: — (Tenderly) — "O love forever in thy glory go!" (He disappears. The sound of the waltz is heard full of insistent rhythm. She whistles it under her breath, looking straight up into the airy conducting it gently with one swaying hand. Once she stops zvhisltling to laugh to herself. At last with a sigh, she drops her hand, flings her arms above her head, stretches her body, and closes her eyes with a voluptuous smile. A moment's pause. Then Tom enters from Left.) TOM : — Mr. Van Tuyl, your — (Suddenly seeing her) — Oh, I — I beg your pardon ! RITA: — (Opening her eyes) — Eh — ? TOM :— (Horribly embarrassed)— I— I thought Mr. Van Tuyl was here. I'm afraid I — (He makes as if to go.) RITA: — You are-r-r going? TOM: — (Turning) — I beg your pardon? RITA : — (Smiling) — Don' go — please — TOM:— (Shuddering)— But— 1—1— 1— RITA: — I vas jost begun to be a leetle — 'ow you say? — lone-lee? An' now a nize young man come — oh! IVIy Lor-r-rd, I am so gla-ad. — (She smiles at him bewitchingly.) TOM: — You're sure — I'm not — intruding? RITA: — But no! Come in — an' — 'ow 30U say? — oh, yes! make your-r-rself qvite to 'ome ! TOM: — Er — thank you. — (He sits down on other side of room.) RITA : — Vhy you seet vay, vay over der're ? TOM :— Why— er— er— I don't know— I— RITA: — (Szceetly) — Ar-r-re you afr-r-raid of me? — (As one would talk to a young and timid baby) — I vill not 'ur-rt you — no,- I like de young men! Please come! Seet 'ere! — (She indi- cates a chair at foot of couch.) TOM : — You're — very kind, — (He comes over and sits down.) RITA:— (Lying back with a sigh)— A-ah\ — (She smiles at him — A pause — then, curiously) — Vhat make you-r-r face so r-r-red? TOM: — (In consternation) — Mv face — ROMANCE. 23 RITA : — (Dreamily) — Eet is de r-r-reddest t'ing I evair see in all my life! TOM : — (Agonized) — It's rather — warm in here. RITA : — You t'ink so ? / am qvite, qvite col'. TOM :— That's— very odd. (Pause.) — I'm afraid I — I haven't had the honor of being — presented — er — er, my name's Armstrong. RITA : — Ar-rm-str-rong ! But dat is not all — eh ? Now wait — no — yes — eccof I 'ave it — Teem! TOM:— (SUghflv nettled)— No, not Tim. That's Irish. Tom. RITA :— Tome ! TOM :— Not Tome ! Tom ! RITA :— Tom— Dat r-r-right— ? (Repeating it to herself)— Tom — Tom ! (Laughing) — Mv Lor-r-rd — vhat a f unnee name ! TOM: — It's not a real name. It's just short for Thomas. RITA: — (Illuminated) — Ah — Thommaso ! Si — si! Now I on'erstan' ! I vonce 'ave a f rien' name Tommasso — oh, yes, ver' long a-go ! 'E 'ave jost vone leg; 'e vas (ow you say? — r-r-rag- picker-r!) TOM:— Was he? RITA: — (Critically) — You look mos' ver' much like 'im ! TOM: — (Pulling uncomfortably at his coat) — Do I? RITA : — (With a sudden happy thought) — May-be you are fine, bceg, Amer-r-rican r-rag-picker — no ? TOM:— (Severely)— Mdid?im, I am the rector of St. Giles'! RITA:— R-r-rector? TOM : — Yes — I mean I — I own it — I'm its minister — its clergyman — RITA: — (Quickly) — Oh. cler-gee-man! I have forget! 'ow bee-autiful! An' St. Giles — who vas 'e? Some leetle Amer-r-rican saint — hein ? TOM : — (Sternly) — St. Giles is one of the most important figures in the great history of the Church of England. RITA: — (Softly) — Is dat so? Anodder cler-gee-man — ye-es? (He nods) — 'Ow fr-r-rightful-ee nize! Ve never-r 'ear of 'im in Ital-ee ! TOM:— (Struck) — In Italy—! Why, you don't live in Italy? RITA : — I have a house in Flor-r-rence an' a villa on de Lake of Como — yes. TOM :—(With a relieved laugh)— Oh, that's all right, then. Do vou know what I thought for a moment? RITA:— No. Vhat you t'ink? TOM : — I thought that you might be Madame Cavaini-:— or lini or whatever her name is! You know — the opera singer! RITA : — (Laughing) — You f unnee man ! TOM : — Forgive me — do ! RITA :— It vill be 'ar-red ! You 'ave not seen La Cavalini here? TOAI : — I — ? Oh, no. / don't go to the opera! RIT K:— (Confidentially)— Yon have not meess much vhen you meess La Cavalini. She is of a fatness— ("f^U/i gesture)— oh, like dat! TOM: — You're sure? RITA :—(Nodding)—She eat twelve poun' of spaghetti everv day! TOAI :— No ! 24 ROMANCE. RITA : — (Enthusiastically) — An' uglee — oh, Madonna — 'ow dat womans is ug-lee I Jost to look at 'er give vone de nose-bleed ! TOM : — But everybody says — RITA : — (Interrupting^ — Leesten ! Vone eye is made of glass — na' 'er nose — my Lor'rd, 'er nose ! TOM :— What's the matter with her nose? RITA : — (Covering her face with her hands) — She 'as not got vone — ! TOM : — But surely you're mistaken — why — RITA : — (Shuddering) — Jost papier-mache — stuck on to her face! O Dio! TOM : — Well, I suppose her figure is what makes them say — RITA: — (Interrupting) — I tell you somet'ing ter-r-rihle! She 'as a 'ump ! TOM:— A what? RITA : — (With horrid emphasis) — A 'ump — a 'ump upon 'er back! TOM: — You mean a hump? RITA: — (Nodding) — 'Er dressmaker in Paris — she tell me dat! Now vhat you t'ink — eh? TO^l:^( Rising) — Do you reallv want to know? RITA :— Yes— tell me, please! TOM: — (Very sternly) — I think, madam, vou have been guilty of the grossest cruelty ! RITA:— What— ? TOM: — (Oracularly) — Yes — cruelty, I repeat the word! To hear a woman, on whom an all-wise Providence has showered its choicest gifts deride, hold up to scorn and gloat over the physical failings of a less fortunate sister — for, madam, you are sisters in the sight of God ! I say this heartless act deserves a far more serious rebuke than any I'm at — at liberty to offer. RITA : — (Suddenly covering her face with her pocket hand- kerchief and gasping) — Ah — don' — don't — TOM : — What if this unhappy lady does suffer from exagger- ated fleshiness? Beneath that bulk may beat the tenderest of female hearts ! What if one eye is glass ? The other, doubtless, is the window of a noble soul ! And even though she bears a hump upon her back, she may, with Christian patience, change it to a (Suddenly inspired) — a cross ! RITA: — (Her voice still covered, shaking) — Don' — don't — ! Dio Mio — .' TOM : — (Pompously) — I am glad very few, poor, simple words have touched you. Never forget them — and, should the tempta- tion come again, remember that a soft, sweet tongue is Woman's brightest ornament ! RITA:— (Unable to control herself )—Tschk\ Tschk ! Tschk— ! (She presses the handkerchief over her mouth.) TOM : — (Suddenly, taking a step toward her) — Madam — .' RITA: — (Dropping the handkerchief and screaming with laughter) — I cannot 'elp it — oh — ! oh — ! oh! TOM : — (Grinding his teeth and striking one palm against the other as he turns aivav) — Madam — ! You — a-ah — RITA:— (Exhausted, gasping)— Oh— ! Oh— .'—(Wiping her eyes) — My Lor-r-rd — ! (A liveried servant conies from down- ROMANCE. 25 stairs carrying a silver tray with glasses, a carafe and a decanter of wine.) THE SERVANT:— The wine, madam. RITA:— P-put it 'ere— on dis leetle table. (She indicates the little table by the head of the couch. The servant places the tray upon it.) THE SERVANT:— Is that all, madam? RITA: — Yes — dat is all. (The servant goes downstairs.) TOM -.—(Stiffly)— Good night. RITA: — You are not going? TOM : — After what has occurred, I see no reason for staying. RITA: — (Carelessly) — All r-right. (She half rises and occu- pies herself with an elaborate mixing of the wine and lemon juice and water.) TOM: — (Lingering) — Aren't you sorry for making fun of me? RITA: — (Always intent on the drink) — Oh — so fr-r-rightfull-ee sorr-r-ry ! TOU:— (Doubtfully)— YoM don't look it. RITA: — (As before) — Is dat so? Good bye. (Tom walks to stairs, pauses, hesitates — then slowly comes back and sits down in his old chair.) TOM :— Madam RITA : — (Turning to glance at him) — Oh, I t'ought you go ! TOM : — (With dignity) — So long as you're sincerely sorry — so long as you truly repent — (He pauses expectantly, awaiting her corroboration. But she whistles gaily and pays no attention to him. He finished somewhat lamely) — I don't suppose there's any need of my going. RITA : — (Gaily, as she pours the drink from one glass to an- other) — Look — see 'ow &^^-eautiful I do it — ! (Her voice soften- ing) — Somevone who was vonce ver' fon' of me, 'e teach me dis! (He stares, hypnotised. She finishes and fills both glasses) — Der-re ! (She holds one out to him) — Dat is for you ! TOM : — (Rousing himself) — Thanks, I — I don't take stimu- lants. RITA: — (Very softly) — Not even vhen / give dem — ? (A pause, she holds out the glass and smiles. At last he takes it) — Ah, dat is r-r-rigjit ! — (She lifts her own glass) — Now vhat ve dreenk to — eh? (Suddenly) — Ecco! Dat nice ol' cler-r-rgee-man — St. Gile' ! You don' like dat — no ? (She pauses and considers, gazing at him. At last in a slow, mysterious whisper) — Den 'ow you like it if / dreenk to vhat I see in your eyes — an' you dreenk to vhat you see in mine — ? (A pause. She stares at him steadily with a mysterious smile. He cannot take his eyes avmy. Together they slowly lift their glasses to their lips and drink, their gaze never faltering. From outside can be heard very faintly the voices of the other singers, singing the sextette from "Lucia," with the orchestra accompaniment.) TOM : — What are you ? Tell me — I — don't understand ! RITA : — (Slowly and mysteriously) — I am a cup — all full of sacr-r-red vine ! I stand upon an altar built of gol' an' pearls an' paid for wid de blood an' tear-rs of men ! De steam of per-rfume dat fills all de air, it is de t'oughts of me in poits' 'ear-rts — de white flowers lying at my feet, dey are de young boys' bee-auti-ful deep d-r-reams ! My doors are open vide to all de vor-r-rld ! I 26 ROMANCE. shine in dis gr-r-reat dar-rkness like a living star, an' somewhere — some time every man 'as 'ear-rd my voice — "Come, o you t'ir-resty vones — come dere is vine for all !" (Pause.) TOM: — (At last, almost in a whisperj— Who are you? What's your name? RITA:— Ah, vhy you ask? TOM : — (Always looking at her) — Because I want to see you again — and again — 1 want to ask you things — (His voice rising) — I want to know you — RITA : — (Interrupting) — Ah, poor young man — all dat can never be ! TOM -.—(Rising)— It must— it's got to be! RITA: — (Gently) — Ssh — ! Don' make a noise! (Impulsively) — Come 'ere! (He comes up to the side of the couch) — Kneel down — (As he does so) — Dere — like dat! Close — close so ve can talk. (Picking up her bouquet) — You see my violets 'ere — so sveet an' fr-r-resh an' bee-eautiful? 'Ow long you t'ing dey last? TOM : — A long time, if you treat them well. RITA : — Now look — ! (She pulls the flowers in handfuls from the bouquet) — I pr-r-ress dem on my face an' neck — I feel dere fr-r-resh-ness on my eyes an' 'air-r — I dreenk dere sveetness like I dreenk new vine — TOM : — (IVarningly) — You're crushing them ! RITA : — Vhat does it matter-r ? I have keess dem — an' dey vere bor-rn to die ! (Taking up two great handfuls and covering his face with them) — Don't t'ink sad t'oughts of vhat mus' be — jost laugh an' love dem — dat is all dey need ! (Giving him more) — Take dese — an' dese — take mor-r-re — oh, take dem all — (She throws a last handful into the air. The flowers fall all about them.) — Dere — ! (Showing the bouquet holder) — It is empty. Not vone is left to take 'ome vhen I go. You on'erstan'? TOM :— No— tell— me ! RITA : — (Tenderly) — Our meeting 'ere tonight — vhat is it but a bunch of violets? Of flower-r-rs dat ve smell an' love an' t'row into de air-r? Vhy should ve take dem 'ome vid us an' vatch dem die? I t'ink it is oh! Much mor-r-re vise to leave dem her-r-re — like leetle memor-r-ries — all sveet an' white an' scatter-r-red on de gr-r-roun' ! TOM: — Couldn't I keep — just one or two? RITA: — (Smiling) — Dey vere not meant for keeping. Dere whole life vas tonight! TOM :— (Simply)— 1 know— but I'd like to try. (A little pause. She looks at him and shakes her head.) RITA : — Ah, you are so young ! (She picks up a few flowers from where they have fallen and puts them in his button-hole as he kneels beside her) — Dere! (Then, with her fingers still at his but- tonhole) — I vish — (She hesitates.) TOM :— What do you wish ? RITA: — (Very simply, almost like a child.) — I vish I knew some flower-r-rs dat would never-r die ! (There is an instant's pause, then quite suddenly, he seises her hands and kisses them again and again.) RITA: — (Trying to rise.) — No — stop it — vhat you do? — (She manages to fear herself azvay from him Just as Fan Tuyl appears ROMANCE. 27 on the stairs. He pauses on the top and looks at them. A brief pause.) RITA : — (With complete self-command.) — Ah, 'ow nize you are to come ! VAN 1\JY'L:— (Politely)— Yom' It ready, Madame? RITA : — Qvite, qvite r-r-ready. (To Tom) — T'ank you m'sieur, for-r your-r kin' polite-ness. Good-bye. (She hows to him and picks up her scarf, gloves, fan, etc., preparatory to departure.) TOM : — (HoarselyJ — But I — want to see you again ! RITA:— You are sure? TOM -.—(Gulping)— Yes— RITA: — (Very ' Femme du monde") — Den vould you come to my 'otel tomorrow afternoon at four-r? It is de Br-r-revoor-rt House — you know. TOM:— (With difiiculty)—A\\ right— RITA : — (Smiling) — An' I vill take you for a leetle drive upon your-r 6^^-eauti-f ul Fift' Avenue ! VAN TUYL: — (Always very polite) — And our engagement, madame, what becomes of that? RITA: — Our leetle engagement is — is — 'ow you say? VAN TUYL:— Postponed? RITA : — (Finishing) — Een-definite-lee. ((Van Tuyl bows. She moves towards the stairs.) TOM : — (Who has never taken his eyes from her now steps forwards as he sees her leaving.) — Wait — ! I'm awfully sorry, but I — don't know your name — RITA : — Oh, of course — I 'ave forget — so stupeed ! Vill you tell 'im — Meestaire Van Tuyl? (At stairs — she gives them each the most correct of smiles and bows, unconsciously dropping her hand- kerchief, as she does so, then goes downstairs. As she goes there is a murmur welling up into loud applause which comes from belozv. She is smiling and kissing her hand to this unseen crowd as she disappears. A pause. Van Tuyl lights a cigar. Tom, staring after her conies slowly to the top of the stairs, sees the handker- chief and picks it up. He is fingering it aimlessly when he sees the initials at one corner. He starts, looks at them more carefully — and then turns dumbly to Van Tuyl. The orchestra begins below.) VAN TUYL: — (Gently) — Do you mean to say you really didn't know who she was? TOM: — (Shaking his head and speaking almost inarticulately) — No — I hadn't the least idea — A WOMAN'S VOICE -.—(Sing below)— "Non conosci il bel suol Che di porpora hail, ciel? II bel suol i de' re Con piu tersi i colori Ove r aura e piu dolce Piu lieve I'angel." (Tom walks slowly to the gallery and stands there, looking down at the singer in the room below. Van Tuyl watches him rather sadly as) THE CURTAIN FALLS. ROMANCE. Act 2 SCENE: Xew Year's afternoon. The study of St. Giles Rectory, a charming old-fashioned, spacious New York House, looking out upon a quiet street. The study, a square room. At left are two windows, with heavy, rather faded curtains. Holly wreaths, tied with scarlet bows, hang in both windows. At back is the double doorway leading into the hall. At one side of it hangs the bell rope. Over it is a long car, and above the center of this a stag's head — mounted. At right is the white marble mantel and fire-place in which a fire is burning. On the mantel are several silver cups, medals in their open cases, little old-fashioned photographs of young men, a big old clock, and two handsome candelabra. Over the mantel is a large steel engraving of Del Sarto's St. John. Above fireplace in corner, right back, is an old-fashioned cabinet with glass covered shelves and drawers. Below fireplace is a rack con- taining rods and guns. A pair of boxing gloves hangs here, too. There are book cases at back and above fire-place and windows, filled with sober, pious, dusty volumes. On top the bookcases are a few more engravings of old Masters — a last supper, etc. Also an occasional bust. In front of windows — left — is a very large, heavy table desk ; on it are a lamp, water pitcher and glass, desk, fittings, several books, a daguerreotype in a velvet case, a large, well-used Bible, a smaller Testament, etc. A big leather chair faces this desk at left. There are one or two other chairs at right of it. At right of room, facing corner — right-back — so that keyboard is not seen, is a small but exquisite old-fashioned square piano. There are candles on each side of keyboard and several rather worn volumes of bound music, neatly ranged. In the corner — left-back — is an arm chair piled high with books and papers. There is a hair cloth settee and one other chair near the fire-place. All the furniture is old-fashioned black walnut, upholstered in black. An old-fashioned carpet covers the floor. The sunlight of a cold winter's afternoon comes through the windows. Outdoors the glitter of snow is seen. As the act goes on the sunlight changes to the ruddy glow of a winter's sunset and then the twilight fills the room with shadows. As the curtain rises Miss Armstrong, 'wearing a little black silk apron, is discovered arranging some roses in a bowl on the desk. The clock on the mantel strikes four. (The door opens and Roger, the old Butler, appears.) ROGER: — Miss Van Tuyl. (Susan enters, dressed in bonnet and mantle.) SUSAN : — (Coming in) — Tom. I — (Seeing Miss Armstrong) — Oh, "Happy New Year. Miss Armstrong! MISS ARMSTRONG:— Don't be premature, my dear— it's only New Year's Eve! (Kissing her) — What nice cold cheeks you have! SUSAN -.—(Laughing) — I ought to— I've been walking. Tom asked me to come in at four, and hear about the final arrangements for tonight. MISS ARMSTRONG:— Tonight— ? ROMANCE. 29 SUSAN : — Yes. The midnight New Year's service for the lost and friendless — MISS ARMSTRONG:— Oh, that! SUSAN : — (Enthusiastically) — We're going to have a brass band and torches and sing hymns and parade the streets for half an hour beforehand — oh. it'll be wonderful! Is Tom upstairs? MISS ARMSTRONG:— rA^^;-z^0M.y/3-;— No. He— went out af- ter luncheon — er — to pay a call. SUSAN :—('M^awm^/3;;— At the Brevvoort House? MISS ARMSTRONG ■.—(Flustered)— Oh, I'm sure he'll be here if you wait a moment ! He has a Deaconesses' Meeting at a quar- ter to five and I know he never would miss that! SUSAN :— Wouldn't he? Well, we'll set— (Noticing the flowers) — What lovely roses ! MISS ARMSTRONG:— They're mine— they came just a mo- ment ago 1 Without any card, too ! SUSAN: — (ChaMng her) — Aha! An anonymous admirer — ! MISS ARMSTRONG :— (Embarrassed and pleased)— My dear, how foolish ! But you know it's the first time in years that any- one's sent me flowers, and — SUSAN : — (There is the sound of sleigh-bells outside.) (At the window) — Oh, look! It's uncle's sleigh! He's driving his new team ! MISS ARMSTRONG:— Is he getting out? SUSAN : — Yes. He's come to call for me on his way uptown. (Glancing at clock) — I wonder if Tom — MISS ARMSTRONG:— My dear, there's something I want to discuss with your uncle, so I think you may as well go home. SUSAN : — Miss Armstrong, promise me not to tell Tom I came — unless he speaks of it himself, I mean. I don't want to be a — a drag on him — oh. Miss Armstrong, promise — please! MISS ARMSTRONG:— Very well, my dear— if you insist. But that boy really deserves a good, plain talking to, and— (Roger enters)— ROGER: — (Announcing) — Mr. Van Tuyl. (He stands aside to let Van Tuyl pass.) VAN TUYL: — (Who wears a long fur coat and driving gloves) — How d'you do, Miss Armstrong. Real New Year's Eve weather — eh? (Taking off his coat and giving it to Roger) — Well, Susannah ; I thought I'd find you and Tom waving your arms and singing hymns and generally getting up steam for to- night's procession ! SUSAN: — (Smiling) — Tom's out. Can Ralph take me home? (She puts on her wraps.) VAN TUYL: — Yes — good idea. 1 don't like to keep the horses standing. (To Miss Armstrong) — Have you seen my new team, Miss Armstrong? The prettiest sight in New York — (At the window) — Look at that off mare there! Isn't she a little witch? The highest stepper on the Avenue and a mouth like a French kid glove ! MISS ARMSTRONG:— She looks very wild indeed! (To Susan) — Good bye, my dear. Tell Ralph to be careful. SUSAN : — (Kissing Miss Armstrong) — Don't forget your promise. (In a lower voice) — xA.nd, dear, don't worry. I don't worry — 1 know it's going to be all right! (She goes out) — 30 ROMANCE. MISS ARMSTRONG:— fTMrMm^ from the door)— Oh, Mr. Van Tuyl, — I am in great — in a very great distress! VAN TUYL:— Dear lady, what is it? MISS ARMSTRONG:— CCo'iw^ quietly)— Vm ashamed to act like this — but — it's been so hard carrying it on my mind — all alone — VAN TUYL: — (Soothingly) — There — ! Count on me. MISS ARMSTRONG:— You're Tom's oldest friend— and his father's and mother's before him — and you're his leading parish- ioner, too — and the chairman of the vestry — (She sniffs.) VAN TUYL : — (Comfortingly) — I know — I know — MISS ARMSTRONG:— ("Br^a^/wy down)— Oh, save him, Mr. Van Tuyl — save him from that d-d-dreadful woman! (She sobs.) VAN TUYL: — I've done my best. He came to see me Satur- day about the new gymnasium and I talked to him as I would have to my own son. MISS ARMSTRONG:— What did he say? VAN TUYL: — He was very sweet, but somehow he wasn't there — the real Tom, I mean — it was only the outside shell that I was speaking to. MISS ARMSTRONG:— I know! I've seen it! He's with her! VAN TUYL: — (Reassuringly) — Oh, come, Miss Armstrong! You mustn't be alarmed ! Remember that she sails tomorrow morning, and — (Glancing out zmndow) — Hello — ! MISS ARMSTRONG:— (Stopping)— What's the matter? VAN TUYL: — Why, her carriage is just stopping at your door ! MISS ARMSTRONG:— r/H amazed horror)— Not Madame Cavallini — ? VAN TUYL :— She's evidently going to pay a call I— (As Miss Armstrong goes and pulls the bell-rope) — What are you going to do? MISS ARMSTRONG:— Tell Roger I'm not at home. VAN TUYL:— (Frankly J— 'Let her come in. Perhaps I could say a word or two — MISS ARMSTRONG:— ('£ar;j^.y^/3';—You'll make her promise not to write to him? VAN TUYL:— I'll do my best. MISS ARMSTRONG:— (VehementlyJ— There ought to be a law against such women ! Why, I'd sooner have a hungry tigress walk into this room than — ROGER: — (At door) — Madame Cavallini — (He enters and stands aside to let her pass. She comes in quickly. She is dressed in a wonderful black velvet and ermine tnantle, an ermine bonnet. In her arms, as if it were a baby, she carries a great ermine muff. From one end of this peeps a monkey's head, adorned with a tiny pink satin turban, large aigrette and diamond clasp,) RITA: — (To Miss A., shaking hands) — My dear-r mees, 'ow you do? I come in for-r vone meenute just to say good-bye an' — MISS ARMSTRONG: — Seeing monkey and draiving back with a cry)—0—\ What's that—? RITA: — Vhat — ? (Noting her look) — An' 1 breeng my leetle bab-ee to show vou. 1 call 'er bab-et — because I am so — lone-lee ROMANCE. 31 — you too 'ave no bab-ee so you on'erstan' — ye-es ? (Seeing Van TuyU — Oh — ! (Advancing to him) — 'Ow you do, Meestairs Van Tuyl? (She shakes hands with him.) VAN TUYL: — (Shaking hands) — How do you do? It seems a long time since we've met. RITA: — Dat night I sing at your-r so bee-eau-ti-ful soiree! To me, also, it seems a long, long time. VAN TUYL: — And Adelina — (To the monkey) — Cemment ca va mademoiselle — hein f MISS ARMSTRONG:— Adelina— ? RITA : — Ye-es — because she look so much like Patti in La Traviata, (To Van Tuyl) — I t'ink she 'ave forget you, sir. VAN TUYL: — You ladies can forget me so quickly. RITA: — Ye-es? Sometime — I wish vou men for-rget a leetle — too! (Taking the monkey out from her muff.) — Tesaruccio mio, sei quasi gelato — non importa qui ci fa caldo! (The little animal is dressed in pale blue satin trousers and coat, diamond buttons, etc.) MISS ARMSTRONG:— Why, it's all dressed up! RITA : — (In surprise) — But sure-lee she is dr-ress ! — Do you vant she go — 'ow you say? — na-ked? Dat vould be — ah! shock- eeng! MISS ARMSTRONG:— The horrid little animal! RITA: — (Warningly) — Tschk ! — Tschk — ! You 'urt 'er feel- ing! Ecco — / See — ! She begin to c-r-r-y ! (To monkey) — Belles mia! tu un' faresti male a nessuno! (Taking monkey) — I t'ink she is like me, Meestaire Van Tuyl. (With a reproachful glance towards Miss Armstrong) — She is not 'app-ee vhen de peoples do not 1-ove 'er ! (Slipping the monkey into muff again) — Ti amo — bambinello mio — si — ti amo! MISS ARMSTRONG:— r^a/r/it«^ her)— Ugh! RITA : — (Putting both muff and monkey in big chair by fire where neither can be seen) — I put 'er 'ere an' she vill tak vone leetle nap ! (Bending over chair) — Dormi, bebina cara di mamma — (Rising and turning quickly to Miss Armstrong) — Santi! I 'ave tor-get ! 1 'ave somet'ing to tell you fr-r-om Meestaire Tom ! MISS ARMSTRONG :— You've seen him? RITA : — (Innocently) — But ye-es — 'e dr-r-rive wid me. I leave 'im at de — oh, vhat you say? — de con-firm-a-tion class — MISS ARMSTRONG:— (Interrupting)— Isn't he coming home ? RITA : — Yes-es — jost a leetle vhile, 'e say. (Holding out her hand to Miss A.) — So I come fir-r-rs' — to make my r-r-respec' to you, dear mees, an' say good-bye. MISS ARMSTRONG :—rS//#/y to Van Tuyl, paying no atten- tion to the outstretched hand) — When Madame Cavallini goes, I hope you'll step up to my sitting-room and have a cup of tea. (He bows.) Rli:\:—(Seeing the roses on the desk)— A-3ih\ De r-r-roses — dey ar-rive all r-r-right? You like dem — ye-es? I 'ave choose each vone myself — ! (She smiles winningly at Miss Armstrong.) MISS ARMSTRONG:— (Amazed)— You sent me those—? RITA:— (Wistfully)— ]ViSt a leetle surprise— to r-r-rember me two— t'ree days aftair I 'ave gone— sonfar! 32 ROMANCE. iMISS ARMSTRONG:— r^//^r a speechless moment)— Thank you — you were very kind. (She goes over and takes up the bowl of roses from the desk) — Mr. Van Tuyl will put you in your carriage whenever you're ready. Good-bye, madame, I wish you a pleasant voyage, (She goes out at back.) RITA : — (Turning in wonder to Van Tuyl) — Vhat for-r she go avay so qveeck? VAN TUYL:— I asked her to. Come here. (She looks at him and suddenly smiles.) VAN TUYL: — (Smiling too)— You little monkey, you — (Re- covering himself) — Now pretend for five minutes I'm your father confessor ! RITA: — You vant to sco-old me — ye-es? VAN TUYL:— (Taking her by the shoulders)— \\q\\, that de- pends — VAN TUYL: — Has Tom asked you to marry him? RITA:— (After a little pause)— No. VAN TUYL:— I'm glad. And if he did? RITA : — (Not looking after him, speaking with a rather sulky defiance) — I vould not marr-ee 'im — an A-mer'can cler-gee-man — 'e vould vant I stop sing-ing — an' be so fr-r-rightful goo-ood — ^an' live 'ere in dis 'orrible New Yor-r-rk — mos' col' diz-zgree-a-ble place I evair see — ! Adelina, in two — t'ree mont's she die — ye-es! An' 'e vould not let me go to Paris vhen I need de new dr-r-ress — an' I vould be all bor-re — an' seeck — (With a sniff) — Mebbe I die, too — an' den — every vone is gla-ad — ! (She dries her eyes resolutely with her handkerchief) — Oh, no, my frien', I could not marr-ee 'im — no — no — dat vould be vone beeg meestake ! VAN TUYL : — Then why do you lead the poor boy on ? RITA:— Lead 'im— ? VAN TUYL : — He's not like the young gentlemen you're accus- tomed to have circling round you — remember that, my dear I He's not a Baron Vigier or a Captain Ponsonby. RITA : — But no, my friend — but no — VAN TUYL : — (Interrupting) — Well, isn't that the way you're treating him? Aren't you amusing yourself — just a little bit at his expense? RITA : — No — you do not on'erstan' — ah ! it is so 'arr-r-rd to say ! Now leesten — ! (She speaks very seriously) — 'Ow long I know 'im? Two months? Ver' veil — (Solemnly) — In all dat time 'e 'as not spik to me a vor-r-rd of lo-ove — no, not vone leetle vor-r-rd ! VAN TVYL:—(Ama::;ed)—What—'/ RITA : — At fir-r-rst I try to make him — moh, you know — for-r fun ! An' den — some'ow — I am so sorr-ee for-r 'im — an' I don' tr-r-ry any mor-re ! (She sits on a hassock at his feet, leaning against his knees. He pjits his hand on her shoulder.) VAN TVYL:— (Tenderly)— My poor little Rita— don't you know there's nothing in all this, dear, for you? RITA : — Oh, yes ! I 'ave often say, "Seely voman do not see 'im vhen 'e come today. Jost tell de gentleman down-stair-r-r you vant to sleep an' no-bod-ee shall vake you up I" VAN TUYL:— Well, why didn't von? ROMANCE. 33 RITA : — 1 say no-bod-ee — like dat ! No-bod-ee in de vor-r-rld — (Shamefacedly) — Excep' jost Meestaire Tom ! (With a sigh) — O Dio. come e dura la vita! VAN TUYL:— So that's the way it went! RITA : — (Glancing up at him) — I t'ink you smile a leetle — yes? VAN TUYL:— No, Fm not smiling, dear. (Pause.) RITA : — (With a sigh) — Ah, my f rien', I am vone gr-r-reat beeg fool — I — who 'ave believe I vas so vise ! — (She smiles and shakes her head.) VAN TUYL : — Never mind, my dear — it's over now. You're leaving us tomorrow. RITA: — (Glancing up) — You t'ink 'e vill for-get me — ye-es? VAN TUYL: — I'm sure you hope he will. RITA -.—(Looking off) — I t'ink I vill not for-get 'im — or if I do — it take a long, long time ! VAN TUYL: — Ssh ! Nonsense! (Putting his hands over her eyes) — Now think of all that's waiting for you over there ! Rome and the Spring in Florence — and Como with the snow still in the mountains — and Paris too — ! Rome — ! Just say it to yourself — ! Wily, you'll see the first acacias on the Boulevard St, Germain — you'll smell the lilacs when you're driving in the Bois — ! And Gounod will be there — and your dear old friend Rossini — I Think of the dinners at the Maison Doree — and the violets in the forest of Compiegne — ! Think of the suppers Cora Pearl will give! Why, don't you know what fun you're going to have? RITA : — Oh. dere on-lee vone t'ing I know. VAN TUYL:— What's that? RITA : — (Passionately) — I lo-ve 'im— VAN TUYL : — You're going to make him suffer a great deal. RITA : — (Unpinning a hunch of white violets from her wrap) — When 'e ask for-r me — jost give 'im dese — an' say it is — adieu — (She kisses the violets.) (Just here the door opens and Tom hursts in, full of splendid spirits and utterly hoyish and happy. He wears overcoat and gloves.) TOM : — (Entering) — Well, did you think I never was — (Seeing Van Tuyl) — Oh, is it you, sir? How do you do? (Shaking hands) — I'm glad Madame Cavallini hasn't been waiting here alone. TOM: — (Pulling off' his gloves) — Whew — ! It's cold outside! I'm nearly frozen and I ran home, too ! (Rubhing his hands) — I'll just put some coal on the fire and then we'll all sit down and — VAN TUYL: — I think Tom, Mme. Cavallini was just going when you came in. TOM -.—(Stopping)— Going— F RITA : — (Recollecting herself) — Ye-es, I mus' sleep a leetle befor-re to-night — my las' per-for-r-rmance — I so much vant to give my bes' — (She has moved toward the door.) TOM : — (Running up and taking her hand) — Oh. come, now, you're not going ! RITA -.—f Faltering ^—FWase. Meestaire Tom. de per-rfor- rmance — 34 ROMANCE. TOM : — (Drawing her over to fire) — Oh, that's all right — it's Mignon and you know it backwards ! RITA : — (Helplessly to Van Tuyl) — You see — (Roger enters at back.) ROGER: — (At door) — Miss Armstrong's compliments, Mr. Van Tuyl, and tea is served in the sitting room upstairs. TOM : — (Quickly) — Don't say we're here ! We'll come up later — ! (Van Tuyl looks at Rita.) RITA:— (Pleadingly)— In jost vone leetle vhile ! VAN TUYL: — (With a shrug, turns and goes out. Roger closes the door after him.) TOM: — (With a sigh of pleasure as the door closes) — There! Now isn't this fine? I tell you, it's like a dream come true! RITA: — Vhat dr-r-eam, — please? TOM : — You — here in my big armchair in front of my lire — in my study ! RITA:— (Wistfully)— A dr-r-ream— ah, dat is vhat J am! A leetle dr-r-ream dat lose 'er vay an' r-r-rest vone meenute in your sleeping 'ear-r-rt — TOM:— One minute— ? Always! RITA: — (Smiling) — Ah no, my frien' — tomorrow you vake up — an' pouf! dat leetle dr-r-ream — she is all gone! TOM:— Please don't— RITA : — (Softly) — You 'ave been 'app-ee den — dese las' veeks — ye-es ? TOM : — (Lifting his eyes to hers) — You know. RITA: — (Very softly) — I 'ave been 'app-ee — too! TOM : — (Impulsively) — Don't go tomorrow — R]TA:— Vhat you say? TOM:— Stay on till spring! RITA : — But 'ave I not tell you I mus' sing in R-r-orne nex' mont' — ? An' I go to Venice for-r de new opera Verdi 'ave com-pose — TOM : — Don't go — oh, please don't go — RITA : — An' den I mus' see Mapleson in London — an' de R-r-russian con-cert tour begin in May — TOM: — I don't care — I just can't say good-bye — RITA: — (Illumined) — Den come wid me! TOM :— (Surprised)— What— ? RITA : — Go qveeck an' buy de teecket — TOM:— Ticket— ? RITA : — (Enthusiastically) — Ye-es — before dey are all gone ! an' tomor-r-row ve stan' on de boat — you an' me an' Adelina — an' ve vave de 'an-kerchief an' t'row de kees an' laugh ! Oh ! my Lor-r-rd. 'ow ve laugh at all de stup-eed peoples ve leave behin'! Hein? Vhat you t'ink of dat? TOM : — I think it's wonderful — but I've got a meeting of the Board of Charities tomorrow at eleven — and Patrick Crowley's funeral at twelve — and after dinner I offer my annual report to the Vestry committee — and in the evening my Knights of the Round Table boys — RITA: — (Interrupting) — I 'ave for-rget you are a clerg-er-man ! And I forgot you were a golden Nightingale ! (Pause.) RITA : — (Nodding to herself) — I t'ink it is a var'y good t'ing 1 go avay tomorro-r-row ! ROMANCE. 35 TOM: — (Much downcast) — But you're coming back next year? RITA : — (With gesture) — Ah, vhy talk about nex' year — it is so far away I TOM : — In my profession, one has to think a great deal about things that are far away. RITA : — Den you are var-y fool-ish — (As he starts to pro- test) — Yes, you are ! Leesten — 1 am ol' an' I know de vor-r-rld — so vhat I tell vou now vou mus' r-r-rembair alvays — TOM:— Well? RITA : — (Wistfully) — Yesterday p — iy is a dr-r-ream ve 'ave for-r-get. Tomorrow — jost de 'ope of some gr-r-reat 'appiness — some joy dat nevair come! Before — behin' — all clouds an' star-r-rs an' shad-ow — nodings — nodings dat it r-r-real — onlee de leetle meenute dat ve call today ! TOM -.—(Bitterly)— Today s so short ! RITA: — (With a smile) — Ah, you are young, my f rien' ! De time vill come vhen you are gl-ad to 'ave dat leetle meenute — so gla-ad you vould not t'ink to ask for-r mor-r-re ! TOM : — (Passionately) — Madame Cavallini — Margherita — I — RITA : — (Shrinking from his in sudden nervousness) — No — no — (Just here a hand-organ strikes up outside the window — left — playing "II Bacio.") TOM : — (Startled and furious) — Drat that hurdy-gurdy ! RITA: — (Slyly) — I t'ink it come jost in time! (Tom goes over to the window where he looks out. Meanwhile Rita is dancing lightly and gaily about the room, whistling and snapping her fingers in time with the zvaltz.) TOM : — (Opening the indow and calling outside) — Hi ! (Pause. The waits continues) — Hi! — you there! Stop that racket! Stop it this minute ! (The waits breaks off in the middle of a phrase) — We don't allow any Italian mountebanks in the neighborhood of this church and if you don' t^( Suddenly spluttering with rage) — Take that monkey off my gate! RITA: — Monk-ee? — (She runs up to the window and calls gaily outside) — Bon giorno, amico! (Tom stands petrified, staring at her) — Che tesaro di una scinietta avete! Come si chiamo? (Slight pause) — He in? Tomasso — ? (To Tom) — You an' de monk'ee 'ave de same name ! — (Calling outside) — Quanti anni baf (Slight pause. Then to Tom) — 'E is two year 'ol. (Calling) — Ha delle pulcif (Slight pause) — Davvero? (To Tom)—'E use to 'ave de flea, but now 'eat dem all. TOM -.—(Much annoyed)— ReaWy. I— RITA: — (Suddenly struck zvith an idea and calling outside with mysterious importance) — Aspettate un momento — voglio forti vede*' qualch' casta! (She runs across the room, picks up her own monkey and returns to the zvindow) — I make ac-quainted Tom- masso vid Adelina ! TOM : — (Trying to stop her) — Please, madame — remember my parishioners — RITA: — (Holding up Adelina at the window and calling out- side) — Ecco — / Tommasso, questa e Adelina — siete compatrioti! (To Adelina) — Sii carina e saluta Tommasso — colla tua minina — (Waving a hand for her) — Brava — costi! ^TOM : — (Angrily) — Tell him to go away, do you hear? Tell him to away immediately ! 36 ROMANCE. RITA: — (To Tom) — All r-r-right — give me de money — TOM: — (Meekly taking out his purse) — Will ten cents do? RITA : — Qveck — qveck, befor-re 'e go avay ! — (She snatches the purse out of his hand and throws it out the window, calling as she does so) — Buona fine e huon' principio, amico! (Waving her handkerchief) — Arrivrderci! (She smiles and kisses her hand at him.) TOM : — (Coldly) — You talk to that man as if you'd known him all your life ! RITA: — (Turning away from the window with a little sigh and shrug) — Ah, ve bot' make de music ! (Suddenly seeing the daguerrotype on the desk) — Who is dat young lady? TOM:— That's my mother.— (Slight pause.) RITA : — You let me look at 'er — ye-es ? TOM : — Of course. — (She takes up the picture very tenderly and studies it.) RITA:— (Softly)— Oh, she is bee-eau-ti-ful ! TOM : — (Coming up and looking at it over her shoulder) — That was taken before she was married. My father always had it on his dressing table. RITA: — (Always gazing at the picture) — I t'ink you look like 'er. TOM : — (Looking at it, too) — She died when I was fifteen. It was my first winter at boarding school. She'd come up to see me only two weeks before and brought me this — (Picking up a small, worn book from desk) — ]\Iy little Testament. I'd expected a fruit cake — you can imagine how I felt I But now — (He brushes it lovingly) — there's nothing else I value quite so much ! RITA : — (Whispering) — She look — like she 'old somet'ing in 'er 'ear-r-rt — somet'ing dat make 'er 'app-ee — an' dat no vone know — (Slight pause) — Per'aps — per'aps it is de t'ought vone day she 'ave a son — like you — (Tom has crossed the room and is unlocking a drazver in the corner cabinet — right, back.) RITA : — (Under her breath, to the picture) — For-rgive — (She kisses it, then puts it back carefully on desk.) TOM : — (Returning with a little box) — There's something here I've been meaning to show you — (He is opening the box and is fumbling about in it) — I keep it in this box with mother's little souvenirs — (He has taken out a tiny, shabby little shoe and put it on the desk to get it out of the way.) — Where on earth — (Sud- denly) — Oh, yes! Now — (He takes out a small package done up carefully in tissue paper.) RITA: — (Undoing package and taking out tiny shoe) — Oh! — (Reading from card she finds inside) — "First shoe worn by my son. Thomas Armstrong — June seex — eighteen 'undred and t'irtv- eight." TOM:— (Glancing at it) — That? Oh. that's my first shoe. Let's see — I must have been three months old ! RITA: — (Half laughing, half crying) — An' she 'ave keep it mit 'soch care — (She cannot go on.) — TOM : — (Half apologetic) — She did that because she was very sentimental. RITA: — (Bursting out) — She did it because she lo-ove you — such a much ! TOM : — Here's what I really wanted to show you, though. (He ROMANCE. 37 is unwrapping the little package he has been holding in his hand.) Now! Look at those! RITA : — (Looking) — A necklace — ear-rings — TOM : — They were father's wedding present ! (He holds up the necklace — // is made of seed pearls and has a locket) — There! isn't that pretty? RITA : — (Admi4'ingly) — Oh, mos' bee-auti-ful ! TOM : — There's one of my baby pictures in the locket. (Try- ing to open it) — I wonder how — oh, yes, I remember — you press the back and then it opens — there ! (He gives her the locket. She takes it eagerly, looks at it, glances at him, then breaks out into irrepressible laughter) — What's the matter? RITA: — (Trying to control herself) — You are so — so fat! • TOM : — (Frowning) — Fat — f RITA: — You 'ave such beeg cheek — just like dis — (She puffs up her own cheeks, loses her breath and starts laughing again.) TOM : — (Severely) — I believe I was considered a very beau- tiful baby ! RITA: — You are de mos' funn-ee baby ] ever see in all mv life! TOM : — (Defending himself hotly) — Well, my nurse didn't think so! She kissed me once till she raised a blister — there! (H.e puts his hands in his pockets and turns proudly away.) RITA:— (Startled)— Yhat? Oh, my Lor-r-rd ! (She goes off again.) TOM : — (Interrupting, in rage) — Oh, very well. I'm sorry I showed it to you ! I might have known that — RITA : — (Interrupting) — Ah, don't be ang-ree ! TOM: — (Not turning) — I'm not angry! RITA: — So? Den von' you tur-rn your 'ead — please? (Slight pause) — I go avay tomorr-r-row ! (Slight pause) — Mebbe I navair-r come back ! (Long pause — then dreamily) — I t'ink you are de mos' bee-auti-ful bab-ee in de whole vor-r-rld ! TOM:— (Loftily)— l<^o, you don't either. RITA:— (Eagerly)— Si— si! It is tr-r-rue ! (Softly to the picture) — So good-bye, leetle fat boy — good bye — good-bye ! (She kisses it twice.) TOM : — (Turning and seeing her) — Thank you. RITA : — (Shutting the locket) — Dat vas for-r 'im — my f rien' — not you ! ( She holds out the necklace for him to take.) TOM: — (Embarrassed) — Er — don't you want to keep him then? RITA:— Keep 'im— ? TOM : — Yes, and the necklace, too. I wish — I mean I hope you will. RITA : — But it is your mother's — TOM :— (Eagerly)— I know— that's why ! RITA :— But she vould not like it— TOM : — (A little pompously) — Of course 1 realize how you feel about accepting presents of jewelry from men, but I think in this case — it's — er — quite all right ! — (Her hand has gone instinctively to her string of pearls.) — What are you doing? RITA : — (Unclasping her own pearls) — I make for-r it de place ! (She drops her string of pearls on the desk.) , TOM : — (Heartily) — Aha ! I knew you would ! (Giving her the rest of the package) — Here ! take the ear-rings, too ! 38 ROMANCE. RITA: — (With tender enthnsiasni) — Dio mio ! dey are so lo-ovelee ! TOM : — Can you see to put them on ? (By this time the room is filled zvith twilight shadows. The firelight is warm and mellow.) RITA: — (At mirror— right) — Oh, ye-es, I can see! — (She takes off her own ear-rings, lays them on the mantle-piece and begins putting on his ear-rings and necklace. He wa^tches her.) TOM: — You know how it clasps? RITA : — (Busy with necklace) — Y-es, it is all r-r-right (Finishing it, and turning gaily to him) — Ecco! Are dey not be- com-ing? (He does not answer) — Vhy you look at me like dat? Vhat v^u t'ink of — hein ? TOM: — (Simply) — 1 was just thinking how mother would have loved you. RITA:— Ye-es? TOM : — She loved anything that was beautiful and sweet and good. And then your music, that would have interested her so much ! She was musical, too, vou know ! RITA:— Is dat so? TOM : — (Continuing) — Yes, that's why I kept her piano when the Worth Street house was sold. I put it over there — so when I'm writing sermons and get all mixed up, I can just look at it and imagine I'm eight years old again and hear her dear voice singing "Annie Laurie." RITA :— r^o/^/j';— "An-nie Laur-ee?" TOM : — That was her favorite song. (Hesitating) — 1 wish — I wish you'd sing it once — before you go. RITA : — I tell you vhat — / play an' you will sing ! TOM : — (Embarrassed) — But I can't — I haven't any voice— RITA: — Come — vhere is it — in dis boo-ook? (She takes up one of the bound volumes of music lying on the piano.) TOM : — No — the big one underneath — page 27 — but really — it's foolish — the idea of my trying to — RITA : — (Finding it) — Ah ! Now light de candle, please. (She puts the volume on the rack.) TOM : — (Lighting a long paper "spill" from fire and from it lighting the candles on either side of the key-board) — It goes up to E — that's pretty high, you know. Of course I wouldn't mind if you weren't a professional — (Taking up his position by her side) — Give me the note when you come to it. 'RITA:— (Playing the 'little prelude)— Is dat too fas'? TOM : — A little bit — that's better ! (She strikes the note and pauses, glancing up at him. He hesitates) — Just wait till I clear my throat — (He coughs) — It's so long since I've sung ! Now I'm ready — go ahead ! (He sings, she "conducting" him with her head and one hand zvhenever possible.) "Maxwelton braes are bonnie Where early fa'as the dew. And it's there — " (.lust here Roger opens the door at back.) ROGER : — I beg pardon, sir. The Deaconesses. TOM:— Get rid of 'em! ROGER:— What, sir? TOM:— (Impatiently)— ] said get rid of 'em! (Roger bows and goes out. closing the door. Tom resumes the song.) ROMANCE. 39 And it's there that Annie Laurie Gie'd me her answer true." (Clearing his throat and speaking) — Here's where it goes up. — {Resuming) — "Gie'd me her promise true Which ne'er forgot will be, And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I'd lay me down and dee." RITA ; — (Softly, not looking up at him) — It is a song of lo-ove! TOM : — Yes. But I never knew it until now ! Do you know wh) ? RITA :— No— tell me! TOM : — Because I never knew — what love was — until now. RITA : — (Sadly) — An' vhat is lo-ove — to you ? — (She plays a little, idly, as she watches him.) TOM : — (Leaning on the piano) — It's finding the woman you want to live with all your life — the woman who'll show you the right way and follow it with you — side by side — shoulder to shoulder — making all the good things seem a little better — and all the hard things — well, not quite so hard ! It's knowing she'll be with you at your journey's end — when you're old — and she's old — and you can smile and look into each other's eyes and say: "We've done our work together, dear — and I think we've done it well." RITA : — (After a little pause, her eyes full of tears) — Oh, my frien'. dat lo-ove — it is for-r some, ye-es — but it is not for-r me. TOM :— I don't understand— RITA: — (Wistfully and tenderly) — For-r me, love is jost a leetle light in all dis dar-rk-ness — a leetle varmt' in all dis col' — a leetle flame dat bur-rn — not long an' den go out. A star dat come — an' is so bee-eau-tiful it breeng beeg tears an' vhen ve dry de eyes an' look again — de star is gone. I t'ink it is to be a leetle 'appier togeder den ve are par-r-rt — vone meenute and to lie steel in de beloved's ar-r-rm — vone leetle meenute to forget, my frien' an' dat is all ! TOM : — (Brokenly) — My dear ! (He comes swiftly to her and puts his hands on her shoulders. ) — (He draws her to him and holds her tightly in his arms.) RITA:— Oh, vhat you do? TOM : — (Pressing her to him) — I love you ! RITA :— Don'— " TOM : — (Interrupting) — And vou love me. Now say it — RITA ■.—(Piteously)—^o— TOM : — (Through his teeth) — You must — RITA: — (Throwing her arms about his neck in deep abandon) — All r-r-right — / lo-ve you — .' Now ve are alone — you 'ear — an' dere is nodings in de vor-rld but you an' me — Dis is our time — our leetle meenute dat vill nevair come again — so shut your eyes — an' 'old me close — an' lo-ove — TOM:— But, dear, I— RITA: — (Putting her mouth to his) — Ssh ! (A long kiss. Pause. They stand motionless, locked in each other's arms. And Just here from the parish house next door comes the sound of an organ and men's voices singing "Ein Teste Burg" — all very faip,t and far away.) 40 ROMANCE. RITA:— M/ last)— Vhsit is dat? TOM: — It's just the choir — they're practicing for tonight — I love 3^ou. RITA : — (Closing her eyes) — A-ah I TOM: — When will you marry me? (She slowly disengages herself from him and turns away.) RITA : — (Almost to herself) — I 'ave not t'ink de en' vould be so soon ! TOM: — (Eagerly) — When — please tell me when? RITA : — Ask me anodder time — no, nevair ask me — it is jest not possible — TOM: — But what's the matter? I don't understand! RITA: — (Defending herself) — Vhy you in such a 'urr-ee? You mus' vait ! TOM : — (Coming nearer her) — I'd wait forever — if there's any hope. RITA: — (Retreating) — Please don' come near — TOM:— There is hope— isn't there? RITA : — No — no — I 'ave make vone beeg meestake I TOM:— What— ? RITA: — I t'ink I 'ave been mad for jost vone leetle vhile, but now — I cannot marr-ee you. Good bye. (She goes towards door. He stops her.) TOM:— Why not? RITA:— Oh, let me go! TOM :— Not till you've told me whv. RITA: — Can you not on'erstan' vhat is so plain an' clear? Your frien's — dey know — de night I meet you you 'ave see de young men look at me — TOM : — Rita — .' (He stands paralyzed with sudden suspicion.) RITA : — Dey know vhy I can navair marr-ee you — de whole vor-rld knows — (Her voice softening) — an' now I t'ink if you don' min' — I go avay. TOM : — (Very tenderly) — No, my dear — not yet. (He leads her to settee by fire) — I think — I think you have something to tell me. RITA : — 1 cannot — no — please do not ask — TOM : — (Al-iixiys tender) — I'm not going to ask — I'm just going to sit here and hold your hand and listen. (He takes her hand) — That's what I'm here for, you know — just to help people when they're in trouble and need a friend. RITA : — You are so goo-ood ! TOM : — No. I'm not, but you'll find I'm very sympathetic. Why, I remember one day last week — Tuesday, it was, that a little tenement girl named McDougal, came in to see me. We sat here just as we are sitting now and after a while she told me all about it. She was going to be married the next day to a young carpenter over on 8th Street — but there was something she hadn't told him — poor child I She didn't dare. She'd been — treated badly by some brute of man when she was only sixteen years old. Of course he'd left her — and she tried to put together the pieces of her life and go on with her work — and then she met the car- penter and fell in love and was going to marry him — and at the last moment her conscience began troubling her — so she came to me. ROMANCE. 41 RITA :— An'— vhat did you tell 'er? TOM: — Oh, I didn't say much! I just suggested things here and there — and in the end — God bless her ! She made up her mind to do the right thing. RITA:— De r-r-right— ? TOM : — She went home and told him all about it. RITA:— An' den—? TOM : — (Cheerfully) — He was a decent sort of fellow and he loved her — so of course he understood — and — well, I married them Wednesday morning and now they're two of the happiest people in New York ! RITA: — An' vould yon — feel dat vay, too? TOM:— Me? RITA: — If somevone dat you lo-ove — (Quickly) — no, don't look at me ! (Resuming) — if somevone dat you lo-ove come an' say "I am not goo-od — I must tell you now because ve lo-ove each oder ! You are de fir-r-rst man I 'ave ever lo-ove — you are de fir-r-rst man I 'ave ever tol' !" TOM:— Well? RITA: — Could you for-give 'er — Meestair Tom? TOM : — (Brokenly, as he catches her in his arms) — You poor little child! RITA : — (Wailing) — No — no — you do not on'erstan' — it is I who am not goo-ood — TOM : — (Soothing her) — There, darling, there ! Don't cry — it's all right — you've been fair and brave and honest — you've told me and I forgive you from the bottom of my heart ! RITA:— (Still sobbing)— Oh— \ Oh! I do not see 'ow it is possible — no, I do not see — I don' — I don' — TOM: — Why not? It was a long time ago, wasn't it? When you were poor and struggling and lonely — you didn't know any- thing about the world — how could you? And you had to live — RITA :— Yes— oh, yes— TOM: — But you mustn't think of it any more! You must just remember how afterwards you pulled yourself together and raised your head and said to yourself, "I may have sinned, but that's all over — and from now on I'm going to be a good woman ! I'm going to turn the rest of my life into a splendid, beautiful thing! I won't stop until I can be proud of myself !" And oh, my dear — I'm so glad — I'm so glad that you can be now ! RITA: — An' is dat vhv vou can for-give me? TOM:— Is what, dear?" RITA: — Because it 'appen — so long ago? TOM : — (With a touch of his profession) — I naturally believe that all sins, finished and truly repented of, should be forgiven by every Christian man or woman. (Pause.) RITA : — (Gently, releasing herself) — I see — I see ! — (She rises and walks away.) TOM: — (With an effort to shake off all these ugly tilings) — And now that everything's cleared up between us, do you know what we're going to do? RITA:— No. Tell me. TOM : — (Smiling) — Go right upstairs, of course, and announce our engagement to Aunt Emma and Mr. Van Tuyl. Come on! RITA : — (Instinctively) — No — no — not now — 42 ROMANCE. TOM:— What— ? RITA : — Vait a leetle — vait until tomorr-row — TOM : — But vou're sailing tomorrow ! RITA :— Ye-es— dat is vhy— TOM: — (Smiling) — Nonsense I If you don't look out, I'll be- gin to think you're ashamed of me! Come along! — (He puts his arm about her waist.) RITA : — (Holding backf — No. 1 say. — it is too soon — I am not r-r-ready — ve mus' vait — TOM:— Wait? What for? RITA : — Mebbe — mebbe dey do not like it vhen ve tell dem ! TOM : — Now don't you bother about Aunt Emma ! She — RITA: — (Interrupting) — Ah, no! I do not bodder about 'er! Bvii— (She stops.) TOM: — It surely isn't Mr. Van Tuyl that's worrying you? Why, he's my oldest friend — and father's and mother's too. He's just like one of the family ! Of course we must tell him right off! RITA:— Vhy don' you let me tell 'im? TOM:— What? RITA : — To-night — vhen 1 can see 'im all alone ! — (Eagerly) — Oh, please — please let me tell 'im ! TOM:— But why? What's the matter? RITA: — If ve tell 'im now, 'e vill be so angr-ee I TOM: — Nonsense! And even if he is, we don't care! RITA : — 'E vill say t'ings about me — oh yes, 'e vill I TOM : — But he doesn't know anything about you. — (She doesn't answer. He repeats in a different tone) — Rita, he doesn't know anything about you, does he? RITA : — No — I mean — not ver' much — TOM:— What— ? RITA : — lost a leetle — I tell 'im a leetle vone night in Paris — TOM : — You don't mean — what you've told mef — RITA : — Yes, an' so if ve go upstairs now an' — TOM: — (Interrupting) — But you said just a minute ago that I was the only man you'd ever told — because I was the only man you'd ever loved ! "RITA:— (Frightened)— I 'ave forgot— oh, it vas two— t'ree years ago — TOM : — (Thinking) — But wait ! He's talked to me very openly about you — why, only last Saturday when I went to see him about the new gymnasium — RITA:— Vhat— ? TOM : — He used possible argument — except that one. Why, he never said so much as a word against — RITA:— I know. I— I ask 'im not to. TOM : — (More and more surprised) — You — ? But — but he woiildn't take your side where I'm involved — why, it's incredible ! RITA : — Oh, ye-es, 'e vould — you do not know ! TOM:— But why—? RITA:— (Fighting for time)— Vhy— ? TOM : — Yes — there must be a reason. RITA:— Can you not guess? TOM:— No. Tell me— ROMANCE. 43 RITA: — It is because — oh, long ago, you on'erstan' — 'e vas foolish enough to like me — jost a leetle — TOM :—What—? RITA : — (Quickly) — It was not my fault — I cannot 'elp it vhen peoples — TOM: — (Interrupting) — When was this? RITA : — Oh, two — t'ree year ago I I did my bes' t' stop 'im — but it vas not easy — I tell you dat ! TOM: — (Interrupting) — Did he want you to marry him? RITA : — (Trying to speak lightly) — No — no — it was nodings — • nodings — at all — 'e jost like to sen' me flowers an' 'ear me sing an' — TOM: — (Interrupting) — How long did his attentions last? RITA:— I— I dunno. TOM : — (Going towards her) — You mean he's in love with you stilir RITA: — (With abandon) — Oh, Hon' talk about dat any more! Jost take me in your ar-rms an' keess me till — TOM : — (Interrupting) — And you knew he felt that way — you knew it all this time? RITA:— Yes— I knew— TOM: — Then why didn't you tell me? RITA: — I did not t'ink you vould — like it. TOM : — Like it ! Why, it was all right ! He can't help loving you, I spupose. There isn't anything to conceal — (Stopping sud- denly) — Rita, there isn't anvthing to conceal? RITA:— Vhat— ? TOM : — Tell me there isn't — tell me — RITA : — (Retreating) — I don't know vhat vou mean — TOM :— Quick— for the love of God! RITA:— Don' look at me— TOM:— Not Mr. Van Tuyl?— .Vof he—f RITA : — (Terrified) — Please — oh, please — TOM -.—(With a sudden cry)— Oh— ! RITA:— (Frantically) — It is not true! I say it is not true! TOM:— What— ? RITA : — Dere 'as been nodings — you make vone terr-rible meestake — TOM:— How do I know? RITA :— (Striking her breast)— I tell you — I— TOM : — But vou kept back something before — RITA :— No— TOM : — How do I know you're not doing it again ? RITA:— No— I am not! I tell you I am not! TOM:— (Pulling himself together)— Ssh-ht quiet! They'll hear you upstairs. (His voice shaking) — Now we must be calm, both of us, quite calm and sensible We must settle this matter here, once and for all. If it's true. 1 — I beg of you — for both our sakes — as you will answer on the Day of Judgment — I beg you to tell me now ! (Pause.) RITA: — If I say "Yes, it is true!" would you — would you again forgive me? TOM :—(lVith a cry)— Ah— \ then it u— it is— RITA :— (Wildly)— l;— Millefleurs ! SIG. VAN. : — (Laughing) — Ah, vhat good time milor 'e give us dere! I vish dat — (There is a knock at the door and before any- one can answer, it is opened and ADOLPH appears hurriedly, carrying a champagne bucket.) KDO'LVn-.— (Excitedly)— You haf-ear— ? You haf seen? Look dere! (He points to fireworks outside) — Mein Got im Him- mel! — (He puts down the champagne by the table. The bell-boy bursts in excitedly.) BELL BOY -.—(With a long whistle)— Whew \ Holy cats! This town ain't seen the like since the Prince o' Wales was here ! (There is an especially brilliant effect of fireworks outside.) — jee-rusalem — ! (He rushes to the window: The Head Waiter, two Subordi- nates and two Hall-boys in uniform come in one after the other, talking among themselves and laden with "floral offerings" of all kinds. There are wreaths, "set-pieces" in the form of harps, hearts, etc. One large bird with "Nightingale" worked in white roses upon red, etc. Some have the American and Halian colors attached, others have the setitiments such as "Say not Good-bye," "Our Mignon," "Addio," etc.) ONE WAITER:— Ouvrec la parte! ANOTHER WAITER :—0w/—)/^ voyec-z'ous pas que je suis occupe — ? HEAD WAITER: — Ou fait-il poser ces engins-ci, madamef SIG. VAN.: — Sur le piano — bien! c'est ca! Dis — done — qu'est ce que tu as sur la table — (To Van Tuyl) — Are dey not bee- autiful? Santi benissimi! (To the waiters) — Va doucement, idiot — ! Tu vas I' abier — / Penchexz cella-la a cote de a chaise — HEAD WAITER:— Ft7 elle est malade— HEAD WAITER :—£//^ chancelle— VAN TUYL:— rro Adolph)—h glass of water- quick • (He brings it hurriedly.) SIG. VAN.:— rTo Rita)—Bevi. RITA : — (Recovering and refusing the glass) — No — sto benone — (To the hotel proprietors) — J'ai la tete en feu — mille pardone — (She smiles.) M. 'BAVTIST'E.:— (Sympathetically)— Au oui, madame— je comprends — des foiz, vous, saves, ca arrive. ROMANCE. 55 SIG. VAN : — (To Van Tuyl) — She 'ave eat nod'ings for-r vone — two — days ! — (To Baptiste and Florian) — Messieurs, vous savez madame — elle est au bout de ses forces — Alors, vous com- prenez — M. FLORIAN : — Mais certainement — (To the waiters, chasseurs, bell boy, etc.) — Assez — asses, mes en f ants! Dites bon soir a madame et sauves — VOUS — / ('They all huddle toward the door) — BELL BOV : — (To Adolph, luho is trying to pull him along) — Leggo o' me! Don't you see this is my only chance? (He strug- gles.) ADOLPH -.—(Under his breath)— Ssh ! Be still ! A WAITER -.—(Officiously)— Tais-toi! BELL BOY -.—(Loudly, as they all try to pull him)—\ will not! (Calling to RitaJ—Sayl RITA: — You vant to spik to me — ye-es? Co-me — I vill leesten ! (The waiters release him.) BELL BOY -.—(Triumphantly to them)— Ysi—ya. ! Did ye ever get left? (He turns to Rita and suddenly becomes horribly em- barrassed) — RITA :— (Smiling)— Yell? BELL BOY: — (All in one breath, speaking very rapidly) — Beggin' yer pardon an' thankin' ye for all favors past an' present, would it cause ye too much inconvenience t' affix yer autograph to this little album, thus joinin' the large company o' famous ladies an' gents what have spread sunshine in the life of a po'r bell-boy? 'RITA:— (Bewildered^— Vhat—? (To Baptiste)— Qug dit-il, le p'tit? M. BAPTISTE:— (Smoothly)— Oh. c'est votre autograph madame — (Under his breath as he glances ferociously at the boy) — Sacre p'tite cochon — RITA : — Mais certainement — (To the Bell-boy, holding out her hand for book) — 'Ere — vhere shall I — ? BELL BOY -.—(Gratefully giving her the book and pencil) — Say, yer a real Jim Dandy ! (Pointing to the page) — Right there — between P. T. Barnum an' General Grant ! (As she writes) — I've been savin' that space for two years, but holy Moses! I guess I'll never get anybody t' beat you! RITA : — (Returning him book) — So — ! Be goo-ood boy — vor-r-rk 'ard — an' gr-r-row up fine, beeg A-mer-r'can man! Vait ! (Picking up a zvreath of roses and smilingly putting it round his neck) — A souvenir ! BELL BOY : — T'anks. But if yer givin' away souvenirs, there's one I'd like morn'n this! RIT A :—( Innocently) — An' vhat is dat? BELL BOY: — (Taking his courage in both hands) — A kiss! (A movement of horror on the part of the waiters, proprietors, etc.) RITA : — (Smiling as she makes believe to box his ears, then bending over and kissing him) — Barabbin — / (Pushing him towards door) — Now r-r-run — queek — queek — ! BELL BOY:— M^ he dashes om^— S'elp me Gawd. I'll never wash that side o' my face again ! ' RITA: — (To all the zvaiters, etc., as they go out) — Bon soir! Bon soir! Merci bien — bon soir, Adolph — 56 ROMA\XE. THE WAITERS :— Bon soir, Madame— bon so'ir— (They exit.) M. BAPTISTE: — (Kissing her hand) — A demain madame — / Et dorniez-hien! RlTA:—Merci—merci cher msieur—(They EXIT. RITA, SIGNORA VANNUCCI and VAN TUYL are left alone.) RITA: — (Turning away with a sigh of lassitude) — Oh! Oh — / Oh — / Son cosi stanca — (Rita turns away, takes a cigarette from a box on a small table and lights it. Van Tuyl, leaning against the piano, smokes a cigarette quietly and watches her. Signora Vannucci bustles about the fire, preparing the piegnoir, slippers, etc.) SIG. VAN. : — Always speaking as one would to a spoilt, tired child) — Vienni, piccina! Eevati il mantello! RITA: — (Blowing out her match and turing vacantly) — Eh — ? (Understanding) — Oh, gia — il mio mantello — (She drops her cloak carelessly on the floor as she comes over to the fire and stops by the monkey's cradle) — (She draws over it a small monogramme'd blanket, which hangs over the foot, and carefully tucks it in- Smoking and gently rocking the cradle) — Va bene — dormi — dormi, belleza mia! Mama e qui, vic'mo a te — dormi, anima mia — dormi — dormi — SIG. VAN. : — (Coming to her with a large jewel-case) — La tua corona, cara — e i tuio gioielli — "~RITA : — (Putting her hand to her brow) — Oh, my 'ead — it is so tired — Eccola — .' (She slowly and listlessly takes off the dia- mond crown, her necklace, bracelets, brooches, rings, etc., and gives them to the Vannucci. The latter puts them in the jewel- case.) SIG. VAN. : — (While this is going on) — E la collana — cosi sa fa — ora gli anelli. RITA: — Petulantly, as Sig. Van pinches her in unclasping a bracelet) — Fa attensoine — che mi fai male! SIG. VAN.: — (Quickly) — Oh, scusa — scusa, cara! — (She shuts the case and puts it in the inside room) — RITA : — (Sitting down on the floor before the fire where the cards are scattered and speaking in an odd voice) — Per I' ultima volta — chissa cosa dirann of — (She recovers herself with an effort, gathers up the cards, shuffles, and begins to deal, her cigarette in her mouth) — SIG. VAN.: — (Coming from the inner room) — Ah, lascio le carte stassera! RITA: — (Counting) — Una — due—tre died! Cosi! (She deals and moves about the cards in a mystic pattern.) SIG. VAN. : — (Kneeling by her and taking off her slippers, trying not to disturb her) — Eccoci! (Feeling her feet) — Ah, madonna mia! Come son freddi — .' RITA : — (Busy with the cards) — // re di cuori cambria posto col fante — (She kicks viciously at the Vannucci. Then resuming) — E il fante col' as so — SIG. VAN.: — (Gingerly trying to put a slipper on the other foot) — Adagio! Adagio! — (As she succeeds) — Ecco! (Undoing Rita's dress) — Adesso leviamo qiiesto — ci vuole un momenta solo — RITA : — (In sudden anger) — Lasciommi store — .' O ti daro una lavata di capo — ROMANCE. 57 SIG. WAK.:— (Appealing to Van Tuyl J— Mi\or—'t see— she vill-a not let me — (Rita solemnly crosses herself thrice.) VAN TUYL: — (Tossing away his cigarette and rising) — Rita. RITA:— (Looking up)— Vhat—? VAN TUYL: — (Quietly) — Stand up. The signora wants to put on your dressing-gown. RITA : — Whimpering as she tosses her cigarette into the fire and rises) — Oh, dear-r ! Vhat for-r you ma-ake me ! VAN T\]Yl.:— (Interrupting)— Ssh—! (During the following, with the Vannucci's help she slips off her hall-gown and puts on the elaborate negligee.) RITA: — (Simply, still looking at him) — Vhy you co-ome 'ere? VAN TUYL:— Don't you want to see me?' RITA : — Oh, I dunno — I am so tir-r-red — VAN TUYl^:— (Taking one of her hands) — Poor little thing! RITA : — Ye-es, dat is r-r-right — poo-oor leetle — (Suddenly and viciously to Vannucci) — Per carita! Credi che sia fatta di legno — f SIG. VAN.: — (Panic-stricken) — Scusi, tanto, cara mia! Va bene, — sosi! — (She goes off into the inner room, carrying the dress) — RITA : — (In a sulky voice to Van Tuyl) — She mds' ver' near-r- rlee br-rreak my ar-r-rm ! (She drops on the floor again and lies at full length, her coin in her hands, studying the cards.) VAN TVYl^:— (Smiling)— And what do the cards say— eh, little Italian sorceress? RITA : — Dey say — dey say — (She looks far away) — You did not see 'im veep ! VAN TUYL:— What? RITA : — (As before) — 'E veep jos' like a leetle boy — vhen fir-r-rst 'e meet de bad-ness of de vor-r-rld — VAN TUYl^:— (Concerned)— Ah, don't, my dear! Don't think of it any more! RITA : — (Looking down again at the cards) — T'ree club — dat mean a long, long jour-r-ney — VAN TUYL : — (Cheerfully) — Clever work ! You're certainly going away. RITA -.—(In an odd voice, looking far o#j— Ye-es— I am going avay — VAN TUYL: — (Leaning over his chair) — Well, what comes next? RITA : — (Looking down again at the cards) — Vour — five, seex di'mon' — an' goo-ood vones, too. Dat mean success an' mon-ee — vhat you say? — gr-r-reat fame — onl-ee to r-reach it I mus' go t'rough much — VAN TUYL:— You'll get there— never fear! RITA:— 'E vould not spik to me vone leetle vor-r-rd— I say t'ank you for-r 'aving lo-oved me! — jos' liek dat! — an' den I vait — bue 'e say nod'ings — so I go avay — VAN TUYL:— ("PaiH^rf;— Don't, dear— it's no use! RITA:— 'Ow long vou t'ink. before-ee 'e vill for-get? VAN TUYL:— Ssh! ' RITA:— (Returning to cards)— Ah, che m' importa? (Pointing to the jack) — Dat blond young man — look! 'Ow 'e is far fr-rom me! 58 ROMANCE. VAN TUYL:— (Looking at cards)— From you—? Oh, of course! You're the red queen down in the middle of all those spades. They're nothing bad, I hope? RITA : — You are among dem. VAN TUYL:— I—? RITA : — Ye-es — an' de oders, too — see ! You are all about me — dere is no vay out — VAN TUYL:— But, dear, I— RITA : — (Beginning zvith a little smile) — My — vhat you say ? (Tenderly) — My flames — my splendid vones of whom I vas so pr-r-roud — look ! 'Ow you are black — am' str-r-rong — ah santa Madonna! I 'ave give you ev'ryt'ings — an' now vhen lo-ove, 'e co-ome an' smile an' 'old out 'is deear-r 'ands, I cannot give — no, cr-r-ruel vones ! You 'ave leave me nod'ings — you 'ave take — take — it all — (She sweeps away the cards and buries her face in her hands. Van Tuyl puts his hand gently on her shoulder. There is an instant's pause. SIGNORA VANNUCCI comes hustling in from the other room.) SIG. VAN.: — (Entering) — Adesso! Siamo bel' e pronto per — (She sees Rita's position. Van Tuyl makes a gesture for her to be still. She stops in the middle of her phrase. Then, under her breath) — Povrina! (She catches Van Tuyl's eye, makes a gesture towards Rita, then to macaroni at fire, next to table — then pantomime of eating. He nods assent. With every evidence of satisfaction she goes over to fire and takes up the macaroni, pours sauce over it, stirs it, etc.) VAN TUYL: — (Turning to Rita, speaking kindly and cheer- fully) — Supper's ready ! RITA : — (Stifled) — I am not 'ungr-ree. VAN TUYL -.—(Pleading)— Oh, please ! Why, the signora has taken all the trouble to cook your favorite macaroni — SIG. VAN. : — (From fire) — Al sugo — e bonissimo ! RITA :— No— no— no— VAN TUYL:— Think how disappointed she'll he— (Raising her) — There! Come along, little girl — (Showing her the table) — Doesn't that salad look good? We'll sit you down in this big armchair at the head of the table — (Doing so as he speaks) — and I'll be butler, with my napkin over my arm, so ! (Imitating a servant's manner) — And will madame drink Chianti or a little champagne — ? (Looking at the label on the bottle) — Roznay et Perrault. '52 — not too dry, I venture to recommend it. Cham- pagne — ? Very good, madame — I'll open it at once! (He begins to do so.) — ' SIG. VAN.: — (Serving her with spaghetti)— Ecco! Che buon odoref (Sprinkling it with cheese) — Mettiamo abbastansa fro- magio — VAN TUYL:— (Pulling the cork and filling a glass)— Thertl Just taste it now and tell me if it's all right. (As she refuses the glass) — Please, dear! You really need it! SIG. VAN.:— (As one speaks to a child)— Macche! Non mangi? — (Coaxingly) — Ti prego — VAN TUYL: — (Offering her again the glass) — Just as a favor — please. (She shakes her head.) SIG. VAN. -.-(Winding a great coil of spaghetti around the end of a fork and holding it in front of Rita's mouth)— Questo ROMANCE. 59 pocchina — presto! presto! Apra la bocca! (As Rita draws her head away and the spaghetti falls to the plate) — Santo Did (A pause of discouragement. She and Van Tuyl look at each other and shrug their shoulders. Then a happy idea comes to the signora. Behind Rita's back, she gestures towards Van Tuyl, then to the spaghetti^ pantomime of his sitting at table opposite Rita, and eating and drinking. He smiles and nods.) VAN TUYL:— rro Rita)— You know the sight of that's making me hungry? I wonder if there'd be enough to give me just a — SIG. VAN. : — (Interrupting and running to serve him) — You lika da macaroni, I bet my life ! (She serves him) — VAN TUYL :— Here ! That's enough ! Thanks. (As he pours himself a glass of wine) — And just a swallow of champagne — I declare, I feel quite famished! (Pause. He does not touch any- thing) — Well, are you going to let me starve? RITA:— (Rousing herself )—Vh'dt you say? VAN TUYL : — You know I can't eat anything until my hostess does. RITA : — (Aggrieved) — It is a treeck you play ! VAN TUYL: — (Humbly) — No, on my word, I'm hungry! RITA : — (Smiling unwillingly) — Den jus' because I am so fr-rightfull-ee pol-ite ! — (She eats a piece of spaghetti. Sig. Van, and Van Tuyl exchange glances.) SIG. VAN.: — (Hanging over Rita) — E buonof RITA :— (Patting her cheek)— Squisito—! SIG. VAN.: — (Kissing her) — Tesorino mio! VAN TUYL:— I'm thirsty, too! RITA: — (Smiling) — Blageur! (She drinks some champagne. He smiles and follozus her example.) VAN TUYL:— (Putting down his glass)— A thousand thanks! And now, my dear, the signora had a hard day's packing and to-morrow she'll be up at dawn. Why don't you send her to bed and give her a good night's rest? SIG. VAN. : — Gra::ia, milor — I am not-a much tir-r-red. RITA: — Ha regione. A letto! E metti in gabbia i pop- pogalli! (She drinks again) — SIG. VAN.:— (Meaningly)— Capisco! (To the parrot)— E loro, povere bestie! Hano anche iin bel sonno! — (Unchaining them and taking one on each wrist) — Andiamoci — .' (To Van Tuyl) — SIG. VAN. : — I 'ope milor 'e sleep ver' fine ! Goo-ood night ! VAN TUYL:— (Politely rising)— Oh, thanks. Good night, signora. RITA : — Buona notte — (Suddenly putting dozvn her glass, rising and running to Sig. Van.) — Carissima mia, ti ringrazia tanto — tanto! E ti amo sempre non dimentica! To amo — ti amo — (She throws her arms around her neck and kisses her warmly) — SIG. VAN. .—(Half smothered by the embrace)— Madonna santissima cosa vuol dire tutto questof (Snivelling a little) — Corpo di Bacco! Mi — fai piangere! Buona notte — (Kissing her) — Buona notte, milor — ! (Kissing her again) — Carissima — f Buona ndtte — buona notte — (She goes out at left, sniffling and smiling and carrying the parrots) — VAN TUYL:— (Who has served her with salad)— Now sit down and finish your supper. 60 ROMAXXE. RITA: — (Shaking her head) — No — it is enough — (Filling her glass and lifting his ozvnJ—WeW, then let's drink a toast — eh? I have it I To the splendor of your days to come I (He bows and drinks. Then, seeing she has not followed his example) — What's the matter? Don't they tempt you? RITA : — (Holding her glass) — I do not dreenk to vhat I know mus' be — but to a dr-r-ream I vill not dr-r-r-ream again — de peecture of a small r-room — var-rm an' br-right — vit 'em so bus-ee wr-r-riting at 'is desk — an' me before-re da fir-r-re — jos' r-rock-eng, smil-eeng — vit' a leetle bab-ee nur-rsing at my breas' — VAX TUYL:— (Suddenly)— My dear, I want you to listen to a plan. (Sitting in the big chair and drawing her down until she nestles at his feet) — There — I That's right I (Cheerfully re- suming) — Xow how would you like it if I sailed on the Alaska in April and met you in Paris and took you straight back to Mille- fleurs — RITA: — But my R-r-russian concert tour-r — ? VAN TUYL: — They can get Patti in vour place! RITA:— (Not pleased)— Patti—? VAN TUYL:— Yes. she'd be glad enough to go! RITA: — (Less and less enthusiastic) — But my dear-r frien', it is not — vhat you sav? it is not fair! VAN TUYL:— To whom? RITA : — To dose poo-oor R-rusians ! VAN TUYL:—(Smiling)— You're jealous! RITA:— (Outraged)— Of Adelina? Me—? (Very scornfully) —My Lor-r-rd! VAN TUYL: — (Caressing her hair) — Then why bother? Think of Millefleurs and how we loved it on those nights in May! And it's there now — asleep and empty, like some spellbound garden — just waiting for the touch of spring — and us — to give it life again! "RITA: — (Her head against her knee) — You tol' me vonce you ar-re too ol' to lo-ove Millefleurs — VAN TUYL: — (Smiling) — My dear, your sorcery can make me young again. We'll spend the spring in our enchanted palace — and somehow, in all that beauty, we'll manage to forget. (He bends over and softly kisses her hair.) RITA : — (Starting at his touch) — No — no — dat is imposs'ble — you don' on'erstand — VAN TUYL:— (Holding her)— What is it? Tell me! RITA: — (Rising^ — I cannot do t'ings like dat — anv mor-r-re —(Pause.) VAN TUYL:— rHw;«b/y,)— Forgive me. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to hurt you. RITA : — You are-re so goo-ood — but vhat I mus' do now, it need no' 'elp f r-r-rom anyvone — not even you ! (She- takes up her glass from table and drinks some cham- pagne.) VAN TUYL:— What is it? RITA: — You pr-r-romise you not tell — ? VAN TUYL:— Of course. RITA:— (Going to the couch )— Or get ver' ma-ad an scol me — ? VAX TUYL:— (Smiling)— V\] do my best. RITA:— Hen I vill show you— vait ! (She hunts behind the ROMANCE. 61 cushions, whistling softly to herself J — Ecco! She takes out a small box. This she quickly opens and from it lifts a new and glittering little pistol. She stands and looks at it, still whistling.) — VAN TVYL:— (Calmly)— Where did you get that? RITA VAN RITA — Dis after-noon — vhen I leave 'is 'ouse- TUYL:— What for? (Looking at him) — You know. VAN TUYL:— My dear child- RITA : — (Going to entrance of bed-room — back) — I 'ave vait till aftair de per-r-for-rmance — I vould not like it to 'ave deesap- poin' de peoples who 'ave been so nize to me — but now — (She stops and pats the pistol in her hand.) VAN TUYL:— Well? RITA : — (Softly) — Vhen dey co-ome to vake me in de mor-r- rning — I vill be far-r avay — (She turns and slips the pistol under the pillow of her bed.) VAN TUYL:— Tell me why. RITA : — In dese las' few weeks, I lear-rn somet'ing all new — an' bee-auti-ful — de goo-ood-ness of de vor-r-rld ! It co-ome like some gr-reat light dat bur-r-n an' blind an' str-rike me to de gr-r-roun' ! It show me for-r de fir-rst time to myself ! Ah, santo Dio! vhat it is I see! But now I cannot change — an' yet I cannot jus' for-get, an' go on as be-for-re — you see, I am — oh, vhat you call it? all meex up! An' so I lie down 'ere to-night — an' say "good-ood-bye." VAN TUYL:— And what about Tom? RITA: — (Quickly) — Don't spik 'is name — VAN TUYL:— I must! If you do this thing, you've got to realize what it means — and that's his ruin — d'you hear me? — the smash-up — the blasting of his life — RITA : — (Covering her ears) — No — no — VAN TUYL : — (Seizing her by the arm) — Do you think Tom could go ahead and do the work God meant him to with your blood on his hands — with your dead body like a mill-stone round his neck — RITA ■.—(Wailing)— V\e?ise— ! Please— ! VAN TUYL: — (Changing his tone) — Haven't you brought him enough suffering as it is? Ah, don't be cruel, my dear — don't crush him utterly — RITA : — (Desperatelv) — It is no use — I 'ave made up my min' — VAN TUYL:— (Quietly)— Then you don't love him. RITA: — (With a cry)— You say dat—? Vhen it is for-r 'im I die—? VAN TUYL:— ('/^/^/a;/ //3';— Die— ? That's easy! Why don't you live for him? RITA : — (At bay) — Don' ask me — no — it is too much — VAN TUYL:— (With sudden tenderness)— 1 knqw it's hard, but that's no reason why you should give up. Why, it's your price — your chance — the power to turn this dreadful business into something radiant and true — the final gift Tom's put into your hands ! ) RITA : — (Clasping her hands) — Ah, Dio mio — VAN TUYL: — (Going on) — Be brave! Live gloriously I And if responsibility's the price of love — love's worth it — isn't it, my dear? — (Pause') 62 ROMANCE. RITA : — You ar-re-r-r-right — oh, my f rien' — my frien', vhat 'ave 1 done — vhat 'ave I done dat all dis co-ome to me — f (She bursts into agonised tears and throws herself on the floor by< couch, sobbing bitterly.) VAN TUYL: — (Putting his hand on her shaking shoulder) — Will you let me take the pistol with me when I go? RITA : — (Lifting her head) — You don' — tr-r-us' me — f (He turns up her face and looks at her) — (Lifting her to her feet) — I do — indeed I do — ! (He takes her face in his two hands and kisses her solmenly on the brow. There is a knock at the door — right. They both turn. A moment's silence. The knock is repeated.) RITA: — (Going to door) — Who is dere? BELL BOY: — (Voice outside) — It's me, ma'am. There's a gent downstairs t' see ye. RITA: — Vhat — ? (She opens the door a crack) — BELL BOY: — They told him it was awful late an' you was tired, but he wouldn't go, an' made 'em send up this. (He sticks in his arm with a tray, on which is a note. Rita takes it, looks at it, then opens it quickly and takes out a card, which she reads.) VAN TUYL:— (Watching her face)— It's Tom? RITA :— (Nodding)— Ye-es— VAN TUYL:— (In a low voice)— What does he want? RITA : — (Reading) — "I mus' see you. It is life or death." (Looking up) — Dat's all. VAN TUYL : — You mustn't see him. It's useless — worse than that ! — it's dangerous ! RITA : — But I vant to tell 'im — that you 'ave tol' me. I vant dat 'e should know all 'e 'ave done for-r me. VAN TUYL:— (Wartiingly)-! wouldn't, dear— RITA : — (Decisively) — I mus'. (Turning to the door) — Leetle boy ! Please ask de gen'leman please to co-ome up-s'tair-r. BELL BOY: — All right, ma-am. (He closes the door. Then, seeing that Van Tuyl has found his coat, hat and stick) — RITA : — (Indicating the door at left) — You go out dat vay — or you meet 'im on da stair-r. VAN TUYL:— I see. Good-bye! (He offers her his hand) — RITA : — (Taking it) — Goo-ood bye. VAN TUYL: — (Still holding hers) — Do vou forgive me, dear? RITA:— For-r vhat? VAN TUYL:— (Wistfully)— For everything. (With a little gasp she lifts his hand and lightly touches it to her lips.) — VAN TUYL: — (Deeply moved as he suddenly gathers her in his arms) — My darling — ! Beautiful — ! Joy of men — ! RITA : — (Brokenly) — Oh. my goo-ood frien' — (She buries her face on his shoulder) — YAK- TUYL:— (With infinite tenderness)— Little bird—! (He softly kisses her hair) — I shall hear your singing in my heart forever, and I thank you from the bottom of my soul ! (He bends over and reverently kisses her hands; then quickly and sharply turns and goes out — left. Rita is left alone. She looks after* him for a moment then runs to the window and opens it. Out- side the giconi and swirl of falling snow can be seen. Shr stands there, one hand to her throat, breathing deeply. A knock is heard at the door — right. She closes the window and turns — half-terrified, ROMANCE. 63 half delighted — the knock is repeated, more loudly. She tries to speak, hut cannot. The knock is heard a third time. She controls herself with a great effort.) RITA : — Co-ome ! (The door opens and TOM appears. He is quite white, his hair dishevelled, his eyes wild. He is without overcoat or gloves — the snow is still on his shoulders, his hands are red with cold. His voice is thick and hoarse — his whole man- ner is strange — he moves and talks as though devoured by some inward flame. During the entire scene he barely takes his eyes away from her once. He closes the door and stands, with his back against it, looking at her.) RITA: — (With diMculty) — You — you vant to — see me? TOM : — Yes — (They look at each other, breathing deeply) — RITA: — (Her manner changing at once) — De fir-re — please — go queeck an' var-rm your-self — (Taking him by the arm and draw- ing him across) — Santi benissii — / You ar-re all vet! — (Glancing at his feet) — An' your-r shoe — per carita ! You 'ave valk 'ere in dis snow — TOM :— (Oddly)— Yt^—V\'t been walking— all the time that you were singing there — I think I got as far as Trinity, but I don't — quite remember — RITA: — Vhat for-r you co-ome out on a night so bad? An', if you mus', vidout dat beeg t'ick coat — ? TOM: — (Again staring at her) — I was thinking about some- thing else — about you — I was praying for you in the twilight — in the evening — in the black and dark night — RITA:— Oh. Meestair Tom! TOM : — (Continuing) — I walked and prayed. And in my prayers I felt a little hand here on my arm — some lost one offer- ing herself. I thought — but when I looked down at the quivering mouth under the veil and the tawdry bonnet — my head swam — it was you — RITA :— (Amazed)— ^1^—-^ TOM : — I heard you crying as I ran away — and I ran and ran, till I saw some lights and people — and then a little beggar, playing on the curb, held up her hand — but when I gave her a penny, she thanked me — with your voice — RITA : — No — no — you vere mees-take — TOM : — Of course ! And then I saw you — walking by me in the streets — and looking at me out of windows — hundreds of dif- ferent women, but every one was you — I couldn't move — you were so thick and close — and it began snowing and I thanked God, because that would blot you from my sight — but no — each snow- flake was a tiny face — your face — some crowned with diamonds — some with loosened hair — some old and terrible — some sad and young — and you came — and came — and kept on coming — thousands and millions of yovi, driving and swirling in your devil's dance by the glare of the gas-light on the corner — and not one spoke — you all just looked at me as if you wanted something — and suddenly I knew — you were begging me to bring your soul to God before it was too late, and I called to you — I cried out that I would ! — arjd then you smiled and vanished — and I came here through the storm. RITA : — (Clasping her hands) — You poo-oor, poo-oor boy. TOM : — Of course you understand ! (With emphasis) — As man 64 ROMANCE. and woman, we've done with one another — But I am still a min- ister of God's word and you're still a human being in mortal peril ! RITA :— (Tenderly)— Ah, don' talk dat vay ! You are all shak-eeng — see ! you vill catch col' ! — (She tries to make him sit by fire.) TOM : — (Paying no attention) — D'you — you know you're stand- ing on the brink of life or death? You must choose between them — RITA : — (Trying to calm him) — Ye-es, ye-es — anodder time — TOM : — No — not another time ! To-night ! This very minute — Now ! RITA: — (In deep distress) — Oh, vhy you co-ome? TOM : — To save you, dear ! — Now listen ! At midnight I must lead my clergy through the streets — you know, my plan to gather in the vagrants for my New Year service — and to-morrow you go away. But I have you to-night, and I'll never leave you till you've given me your soul ! RITA : — Ah, if you on-lee knew 'ow — TOM: — (Interrupting and holding up his hand) — Listen! Don't vou hear it — now — above us — in this very room? RITA:— 'Earr vhat— ? TOM : — (In a sort of rapture) — The sound of many waters — RITA :— (Puzzled)— "Eh—-^ TOM : — The voice — (Very solemnly) — The thunder of an angel's wings — ! (Brief pause.) RITA : — I 'ear-r de vind blow — an' my 'ear-rt beat — dat is all. TOM :— It's here ! I feel \i— (Ecstatically)— Oh, dear God- dear God ! you're giving me the strength to conquer her ! RITA: — (Anxiously) — Conqu-air — ? (Suddenly) — You vant to 'ur-r-rt me ! Ah, don' 'ur-r-rt me — please I TOM : — (Turning to her and speaking with sudden tender- ness) — My dear, I wouldn't hurt you for the world. It's love I'm offering you — (As she makes a quick movement) — no, wait, my poor child — not the sick passion of those luxurious beasts, not even the great pity I once knew — the love I bring to you to-night is God's alone ! RITA:— God's lo-ove— ? TOM : — Yes. His — the mighty tenderness that moves the stars, and understands when little children pray. RITA:— Vhat you mean—? TOM : — (Always staring at her) — Little lost soul, I am ready to carry you home! Little tired heart, eager for joy, follow me and find it in His arms ! RITA: — (Looking at him) — I don' — qvite on'erstan' — TOM : — I thought our meeting was the work of chance — but no ! God drew you to me, over land and sea, that I might be the engine of His Word — ! You are a bride — but ah ! not mine — (His voice dropping) — not mine ! RITA: — A br-r-ride — me? No — no — dat is im-poss'ble — TOM : — (His eyes gleaming) — Don't you hear the midnight cry — "Behold! the Bridegroom cometh ! Go ye out to meet him I" Don't you see Him — coming from the wilderness like a pillar of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense — ? His eyes are as a flame of fire — on his head are many crowns — he wears a gar- ment dipped in blood and on it a name is written — Lord of Lords ROMANCE. 65 I und King of Kings — / Hark ! He is outside, knocking at your door! Rose of Sharon — Lily of the Valley — cease your slumber — for the hour has come ! RITA : — Your eyes — dey bite me — oh, dey bur-r-rn me up — TOM : — (Breathing fast and deep as he comes nearer) — My dear, he's tired — don't keep Him standing there — RITA: — Meestair Tom — Meestair Tom! TOM : — (Hoarsely) — Darling, open your heart — for God's sake let him in — RITA : — (In a spasm of nervous horror as he finally seizes her) — Don' touch me — don' — don' — let me go! (She drops writhing at his feet. He holds fast to her hands and speaks quickly, bending over her.) — TOM : — (Changing his tone) — So you're proud — you think you can close your soul against the Lamb ! Well, let me tell you now that unless you repent the day will come when your pride lies broken — shattered by His wrath ! RITA : — (Interrupting) — Let me go — let me go — (She tears herself free and runs over to the fire, where she crouches trembling against the wall) — TOM : — (With terrible intensity) — When you have glorified yourself and lived deliciously, and all lands are drunk with the wine of your abominations — when you have said in your soul, I sit a queen, and am no widow, and shall see no sorrow — then will the Son of Man thrust in his sickle — then will He gather your grapes and cast them down and tread them in the winepress of God's rage! RITA : — (Beginning suddenly to cry like a frightened child) — Oh—! Oh—! I am afr-r-raid ! TOM:— (Wildly)— Aiv2\d—\ Afraid? Miserable sinner, how can you live with that horror staring in your eyes? The visions of that dreadful day when the sun is smitten, and the moon is blood — RITA : — I don't believe — no — no, I don' — I don' — TOM : — When the graves are broken, and the sea gives up its dead — and great and small they stand before Him and He sits in judgment — RITA: — (Trying to interrupt him) — Meestair Tom — jos' vait vone meenute — TOM : — (Going on) — Don't you hear that Great Voice like a light that blinds — I made you keeper of my vineyards. But your own vineyards you have not kept. So you shall be cast into the bottomless pit and the lake of fire — and there, in the midst of your eternal torment you shall hear the "Allelulias" in the rainbow round My throne ! (He sinks into a chair, and buries his face in his hands. A pause. Rita, who has risen, now comes nearer him.) RITA : — (Simply) — I am qvite sure dis is de las' time dat ve spik togedder — de las' time dat I loo-ook upon your-r face. An' so I vant to tell you jos' a leetle somet'ing — an' den — veil, mebbe. I can say "goo-ood-bye." (She comes a little nearer and speaks at first zvith some difficulty) — You ar-re ver' kin' to t'ink of me so much — aftair all de tr-r-rouble I 'ave breenk — but dear — you cari for-get me now — it is all r-r-right — your vor-r-rk is done! TOM:— What's that? RITA .—(Her eyes shining)— \ vant to ma-ake my life all 66 ROMANCE. goo-ood— like your-r-rs ! Ah, ye-es— I know dat vill be 'ar-r-rd, but .1 don' car-re — an' niebbe de kin' Madonna she vill 'elp me — vhen she see me tr-ry — (She clasps her hands, the dawn of hope on her face.) TOM : — (Staring at her) — Your lips drop as the honey-comb — your mouth is smoother than oil — but your feet go down to death — and your steps take hold on hell — RITA : — (A little anxious) — You don' t'ink God, 'E vill for- give me — no? (Smiling) — Ah, foolish vone — ! 'E vill! Did 'e not make my face so men 'ave al-vays lo-ove me — did 'E not put voice 'ere to de-light de wor-r-rld ? Did 'E not give to vone poo-oor leetle girl — who ask Tm not'ings — so much to carr-ee dat she lo-ose 'er vay ? 'E vill not be sur-rpr-rise she stumbles so-ometimes — 'E vill not scol' much vhen she make meestake — 'E vill jos' smile an' keep 'Is candle bur-rning — an' in a leetle while she see it — an' co-ome 'ome ! TOM : — Promise me something — RITA:— Vhat— ? TOM : — Take my hands and look me in the eyes — and promise me never to give yourself to any man again. RITA: — (Turning away in agony) — Ah, vhy don' you tr-r-rust me — vhy you doubt me so — ? TOM -.—(AloudJ— You won't—? RITA : — (Turning) — 'Ere — take my 'ands — (as he seises them) — 'Ow col' you ar-re ! — I promise — vhat you vant I say? — nevair to give myse'f to an-y man again I TOM: — (Devouring her with his eyes) — You swear it? RITA: — Ye-es — I swear! Now ar-re you satisfied? TOM : — (Suddenly uttering a cry of pain and hideous unrest) — A-ah ! (He brutally pushes her aiuay from him.) RITA:— Vhat is it now—? TOM: — I've just remembered that you swore before — RITA : — (Shrinking as she understands) — No — no — TOM: — You looked up — just as you're looking now — RITA : — (Putting up her hands as if to ward off a blow) — No — stop it ! TOM : — And you lied — and lied — you lied to me — RITA : — No — don't please — it is all different now ! TOM: — Different? I don't see it — why, it's just the same — RITA : — No — no — I tell you — / am diff'rent — / 'ave change — I am go-ing now to be goo-ood — TOM:— But can you? RITA: — Listen — ! (I vill stop singing) — leave de stage — fin' out a convent vhere dey take me in an' — (Suddenly) — Ecco! I 'aave it ! Dere ar-re so-ome nuns near Genoa who nur-r-rse de secck — I vill go str-r-raight from Napoli — lear-rn 'ow to 'elp — an' vor-rk until my flesh fall fr-rom de bone — TOM: — You'll do that — just to show me you're sincere? RITA : — (Imploringly) — I vill do all you vant — ye-es, anyt'ing — on-lee believe me or else I die ! TOM:— (Deeply moved)— All right. RITA: — (Hardly daring to believe) — Y'ou mean it — ? TOM : — (Huskily, his face working) — Yes, God bless you, dear — good-bye — (He turns away quickly) — My hat — I think I — (Seeing it on the piano)— Oh, there it is— I didn't remember just ROMANCE. 67 where — (He steps suddenly and stands rigid. He has seen Van Tuyl's card, left on the piano by Signora Vannucci at the begin- ning of the act. A moment's pause.) RITA : — (Turning) — You don' fin' it — ^no ? Mebbe you — (Her zoice changes as she sees his face) — Vhat is it? TOM -.—(Trying to point)— Th2ii card— Van T\iy\—(He chokes suddenly.) RITA:— (Anxiously)— Mt&st2\r Van Tuyl— Ye-es? i:OU:—(lVith difficulty)— nes been here— then? RITA :— (Looking at him) — Si — si — TOM:— (Putting his hand to his throat)— To-n\^h.i'> RITA :— Ye-es— TOM: — (Hardly able to contain himself) — When — ? RITA: — Jos' be-fore you co-ome — TOM : — (With a yell of rage, seizing the card and crumpling GAL. WENTY-ONE— TOWER 1/ in both hands) — Oh — ! What a fool I've been ! What a fool — what a fool — what a blind, miserable, wretched fool — RITA:— Vhat is it? Tell me— vhat 'as 'appen— ? TOM : — Why didn't I get it as soon as I saw you in that indecent dress — with your hair unbound — and the night-Hght burn- ing— RITA: — Vhat you mean — ? O dear-r Lor-r-rd — vhat you mean — f TOM : — Don't try to cheat me any more ! I know what's hap- pened in this room to-night — ! While I was tramping through the storm and snow, praying with my whole heart for your soul's redemption — (Pointing to bed-room) — you lay there laughing in your lover's arms — RITA :— (^5/w7/y;— No— no ! It is not true— TOM : — And then I came — another chance to make a fool of me ! And so you told me you'd repented — you smiled and smirked and Tell me, how did you keep your face straight? I'm rather curious to know? RITA : — (Piteously) — Please — Meestair Tom — jos' leesten — I vill— TOM: — (Savagely) — And I believed you! I believed! An- other splendid joke to tell Van Tuyl! And won't the old man love it — And he'll be dead right — even / can see it's funny — (He begins to laugh) — Funny f It's the richest thing I've heard for years and years — (He throivs his head back and laughs, loud and long) — RITA : — (Covering her ears) — Don' — don' — it is too ter-r- rible — TOM : — Come on — let's tell him together 1 Where is he? Outside there, hanging round the corner? No? He's still here — slinking about some servant's passage-way — hiding behind a door at every sound — waiting till I have gone — and every- thing's quiet — and you whistle twice to tell him the coast is clear! RITA :— ("^/ww^r;— Dat is not so, I say! 'E co-ome in kin-ness, jos' be-cause 'e feel ver' sorr-ee for-r me — an' vhen 'e ask me to go back to 'im, I 'ave r-re-fuse — 'TOM:— What? RITA: — I 'ave r-re-fuse — you 'ear me? — i 'ave tol'. 'im ''No!" — an' 'e is a gr-r-reat beeg man — an' on'erstan' — an' den I t'ank 'im — an' ve say ''goo-ood-bye" — 68 ROMANCE. TOM:— (Fiercely)— You lie! Why, look at those two chairs— they look like a refusal, don't they? And those glasses— cham- pagne — RITA :— No— no— it is quite diff'ren'— you ar-re all meestake — TOM -.—(More and more fiercely)— A private orgy, planned and thought out days ahead ! Your last caresses— ^//^ has seised the table cloth with both hands) — RITA : — Oh, ta-ake car-re — TOM :— (Between his teeth)— A farewell debauch— ("//^ pulls the cloth and drags everything to the floor tvith a crash.) — RITA : — (Closing her eyes) — Oh — ! TOM -.—(Turning on her)—^ow will you dare deny Van Tuyl's your lover? RITA:— (Her eyes still closed)— Yes— \ Yes—! I do—! I do—! ^ (Beginning to sway a little as she speaks)— I 'aave r-re-fuse Mm an' I tell you vhy ! 1 t'ought it was be-cause I vant so much to be goo-ood — ! But now I know dat I vas all meestake' — / br-r-reak vit 'im be-cause I lo-ove anodder — TOU:— (Almost ready to kill her)— Who is he? RITA : — (Half fainting, as she opens her eyes and sways towards him, holding out her arms) — You TOM : — (Turning sharply as if she had struck him with a whip) — Don't — ! RITA : — (Pulling herself together) — Forgive me — TOM : — (Tzvisting his hands as if in prayer) — Oh, my God — Oh, my God ! RITA: — (Her back to him, holding the big chair for support) — If you don' min' — I mus' ask you now to leave me — it is almos' midnight — you 'ave your-r sair-vice in de chur-r-rch — an' I myself mus' — tr-r-ry to sleep a leetle — (Turning with an enormous effort and holding out her hand with a smile) — So goo-ood night! I 'ope you — (Her words die azcay as she sees the expression on his face, then in a sudden paroxysm of terror) — Vhy you loo-ook at me like dat — ? (A brief pause) — Please go 'vay — ! (He doesn't move) — Go 'vay! TOM: — (Starting, wiping his forehead nervously, and trying to speak in his natural voice) — AH right — I'm going — yes — I'm going — (His tone deepening) — But first there's something we must do — what is it? I forget! Oh. yes, of course — We must pray together — that's it ! Pray for your soul and for your soul's salva- tion — RITA : — (Nervously) — No — go now ! I'm in God's 'ands — 'E vill take car-re of me — (In quick fear, he comes towards her) — Oh, vhat you vant — ? TOM : — (Thickly) — Come here — (He seizes her by the arm) — Kneel down ! (He sits on the couch and draws her down before him between his knees) — There — ! That's right! Give me your hands ! (He fumbles, finds them, and holds them tight against his breast. A silence, they look into each other's eyes.) RITA : — (Suddenly in wild terror as she looks up at him) — Pr-r-ray! Vhj. don' you pr-r-ray — ? pr-r-ray — (Half smothered) — O Gcsu — (In a silent fury of passion he has leaned forward, and, in spite of her struggles, now draws her up and crushes her in a terrible embrace) — ROMANCE. 69 TOM: — (Triumphantly as he holds her tig-ht against him) — It's all over — I thought I came here to save you — but I didn't — it was just because Im a man and you're a woman — and I love you, darling — 1 love you — I love you more than anything in the world — (He is kissing her frantically) — RITA:— (Half fainting)— Oh— \ TOM : — (Between his kisses) — (With a laugh) — What a fool I've been ! But that's all right — it's not too late — we're here — together — and the night is ours — RITA :— (Terrified)— No— no— ! TOM : — It's ours — the whole, long, splendid night — it's ours — 1 tell you — every marvellous minute — RITA : — (Struggling) — Don' — please — ! Oh, take away your 'ands — TOM :— I won't— RITA :^It is be-cause I lo-ove you — TOM : — (Leaning forward to^ kiss her) — Ah ! I knew — ! RITA : — (Pushing him away from her) — An' so be-cause I lo-ove you — I mus' sa-ave you fr-rom your-self — ! TOM:— It's too late. RITA : — Now leesten — please I It is you who 'ave teach me vhat is lo-ove ! I 'ave know nod'ings — nod'ings — till vou show me all ! TOM: — Till I — ? (He breaks into a peal of jangled laugh- ter)— RITA: — To lo-ove a man is jos' vone beeg for-getting of von's self — to 'elp 'im vhen 'e need 'elp — if it cost your-r life — TOM ■.—(Laughing again) — Oh. darling — you don't really think that's love — ? RITA : — I know it — now. (With a sudden sob) — But, oh, I lear-rn it in such pain an' sor-r-row — (In passionate entreaty) — Don't take it f r-r-rom me — now dat it is mine ! TOM : — Oh, that's not love — why, that's the sort of rot I used to talk ! (Almost drunkenly) — But I know better now — you've taught me. darling — love isn't thinking or forgetting about any- thing — love's just feeling — it's being awfully sick and faint — as if you hadn't had anything to eat for years and years — it's — RITi\ : — (Interrupting) — Don' — ! Don' — ! You mus' not talk dat vay — TOM : — (Moistening his lipsJ—l love you — RITA : — (In despair) — Oh, t'ink of dat beeg lake — de lake of fir-re — de smoke an' tor-ment dat you tell me of — TOM : — (Recklessly) — I know — I'm lost — I'm done for — damned forever — ! But I'll have had this night — so I don't care! TOM : — (Holding open his arms) — Come, darlings-come — RITA: — (Shrinking) — No, nevair — nevair — ! Rather vould T die! TOM ■.—(Thickly)— You won't? All right— ("//^ starts for her)— RITA : — (Wild with fright) — Don' touch me — no— go back — ple£(se — keep avay — TOM : — But dear — we love each other — RITA:— Stop— ! TOM:— I won't! RITA : — (At bay against the wall) — For-r God's sake — 70 ROMANCE. TOM: — (Close to her) — Oh, my darling— RITA -.—(Suddenly) — All right. But first— please go an' lock dat door-r. (A brief pause) — (He walks unsteadily towards the door — right. As soon as his back is turned, Rita rushes to her pillow and draws out the pistol she placed there earlier in the act.) — TOM: — (Turning and seeing) — What have you got there? RITA: — (Wildly) — De angel's veengs — I 'ear dem now — not lo-ve — but deat' — TOM: — (Holding out his hands) — Give me that pistol! RITA : — (Standing in the entrance to her bed-room, the weapon at her temple, her eyes closed) — De meenute dat I feel you touch me — I vill fir-re! (Pause. They are both breathing deeply. Tom, biting his underlip and never taking his eyes off her face, is crawling softly up on her other side — crouched like a beast — prepared to spring upon her unawares. Then, in the silence, just as he is ready to leap — from quite near-by is heard the first note of the midnight bell. The full, deep tones strike solemnly and slowly, up to four. Then, as it continues, the sound of a brass band and a choir of men's voices — sturdy and sweet — are heard from far away, grad- ually growing nearer. They are playing and singing the old Luth- eran Hymn, "Ein feste Berg." As Tom hears them, he gradually straightens and his old look and mangier come back to him. He goes rather unsteadily to the windozv and opens it. Outside it is quite clear — the snow has stopped. The hymn grows louder and nearer. Other bells have begun to strike — some close, some far away. He stands for a moment looking out; then turns to Rita, passing his hand over his forehead as one recovering from a dream. She has opened her eyes; the hand holding the pistol hangs limply at her side. She looks at him in an agony of silent appeal.) TOM : — (In his natural voice, very formal and polite, but a little constrained) — I beg your pardon — I must take my leave — (As he looks about for his hat) — My church — the choir — proces- sion — join them as they reach the Avenue — my apologies — disturb- ing you at such an hour — (At the door, fumbling blindly zvith the key) — I beg you to accept — very best wishes — coming year — my — my — good-night — good-bye — (He is gone without looking back once. As he spoke the pistol has dropped from her hand. Her lips move rapidly in silent prayer. She shuts her eyes and crosses herself. Her head droops and she begins to sway. She tries to cross her- self again, cannot, and, as the door closes, she sinks on the floor in a little heap, like a tired child. The hymn swells up in triumph as the lights fade. The scene is in darkness. The noise of the bells continues — whistles take it up. For a moment the bells and zvhistles nearly drown the hymn. Then they begin to die away. The voices singing are no longer heard. And the band playing the hymn has evidently shrunk. H is now almost grotesque — so very thin and cracked and out of tune. To this music and the fading sound of the bells the lights are gradually turned up again, and reveal the scene set for the Epilogue.) ROMANCE. 71 The Epilogue SCENE: The Bishop's library again. The Bishop is sitting in the red glow of the dying tire, finishing his story. His grandson is at his feet. Outside are heard the last echoes of the bells and whistles. The little street band is still playing "Ein Fests Berg" (a lament- able performance). BISHOP: — And that's how 1 remember her — standing there all in white, with her hair loosened and her eyes shut. She crossed herself — 1 think now she was praying — and the next thing I knew I was on the sidewalk and my choir — God bless 'em — were coming round the corner of Tenth street, marching like soldiers to the same tune those wretched Germans are murdering outside there now. — (As they strike a particularly distressing dissonance) — Ah! — Really — that's too much ! Give them a quarter, Harry — and tell them to go away ! HARRY: — (Throwing up the window and calling) — Hi — you! That'll be enough for to-night ! Here — catch ! (He throws out a coin. The music stops. There is silence, save for a few far-off horns.) BISHOP: — (Rousing himself as Harry returns and putting the dead violets and the handkerchief in his pocket) — So that's what I wanted to tell you, my boy ! I came home that night an older — and 1 think a better man. It was the following June that your dear grandmother and I were married — Mr. Van Tuyl came all the way from Madrid just to be there and to give his niece away! They're tine people — the Van Tuyls — but your grandmother was the finest of them all. She made ni}^ life a happ}^ one — a very happy one indeed ! HARRY -.—(Boyishly)— And— MadsimQ Cavillini— ? BISHOP: — (Still looking in the fire and smiling) — She became' even more famous before her retirement — but of course, vou know — HARRY:— Where is she now? BISHOP: — I'm not sure — but I believe she's in Italy some- where living rather quietly. (Wistfully) — She and Patti are the only ones left — a wonderful career my boy — a very great artist — I never saw her again. HARRY: — (Patting his arm azvkw'ardly) — I think you're just a corker ! BISHOP: — (Smiling) — Nonsense — 1 But now I hope you understand I haven't quite forgotten what it feels like to be young — and although it's true I always read the Evening Post, I still can sympathize — and even presume to otTer some occasional advice. HARRY: — I know it— I appreciate it—! BISHOP: — (Very solemnly) — My dear, dear boy, unless your love is big enough to forget the whole world and yet remember Heaven, you have no right to make this girl your wife I (Brief pause.) HARRY: — (Rising abruptly) — Grandfather. I have been an ass! (He puts his hands iti his pockets and walks away.) BISHOP : — (Whimsically, as he wipes his glasses) — I suppose you have. Harry — I suppose you have ! 72 ROMANCE. HARRY: — (Turning back again) — I've been an ass to hesitate one single minute ! However, it's all right novc^ — Lucille and I are going to get married as soon as eyer we can I BISUOF:— (Th or oiighly startled)— God bless my soul! But that isn't why I told you my story I I wanted to get this nonsense out of your silly young head. HARRY : — (Laughing affectionately as he stands behind the Bishop's chair and pats his shoulders) — Quite different, and it's too late now to change — (Suddenly) — Have you any engagement for tomorrow afternoon? BISHOP:— r^//// flustered) — \—\ can't say that I recall any at this moment — HARRY: — Then d'vou mind if we make one now? BISHOP:— Well— well— ! I declare! (He takes out his spot- less handkerchief and passes it nervously over his brow. The door opens and SUZETTE appears smiling brightly.) SUZETTE : — (Standing at the door) — Happy New Year, grandpa ! BISHOP:— Happy New Y'ear, mv dear! SVZKYTY.:— (Coming to his chair)— Well? BISHOP: — Suzette, I want 3^ou to order some white flowers and a cake — SUZETTE:— r?FiV/7 a wriggle of delight)— Ohl BISHOP: — (Very sternly) — For tomorrow afternoon — 4.30 1 believe. SUZETTE: — (Flinging her arms around his neck) — You duck! I just knew Harrv could get around vou ! BISHOF:— (Twinkling)— Oh, did you? Well, now that you two have arranged everything to suit yourselves, would you please mind reading me my paper and then going to bed? (He leans back comfortablx and closes his eyes. SUZETTE-.— (Going to desk)— Where is it? Oh, yes! Wait till I turn on the lamp — (She switches on the electricity at desk, sits down ill a comfortable chair, crosses her knees, sighs, and unfolds the "Post" reading head lines.) BISHOP: — Is there any foreign news? SUZETTE: — (Sleepily) — Oh, just some uprising in Portugal — a new Chinese loan — (turning the page). Why, Cavallini's dead ! 1 thought she died a long time ago, didn't you? (A slight pause.) BISHOP:— W^hat does it sav? SUZETTE:— Oh. it's just a cable. (Reading)— '^l\\2in, De- cember 30 — Mme. Marguerita Cavallini died this morning at her villa on the Lake of Como." BISHOP:— Is that— all? SUZETTE : — There's a whole column of biography stuck on underneath. Shall I read it? (Suddenly) — Oh, of course! I for- got ! She and Patti were your two great operatic crushes, weren't they? Well, she was born at Venice in 1841. That makes her — (Looking up thoughtfully) — Let me see — BISHOP:— Don't tell me how old she was! SUZETTE:— (Smiling)— AW right. (Running her eyes down the column)— E>ehwt at Milan in 1859— sang prima donna roles under the direction of Rossini — success in London — hm ! — brought to this country by Strakosch — appeared as "Mignon" at the Academy of ROMANCE. Th Music — (Looking up) — Everyone went mad over her, didn't they ? (Resuming) — Opera and concert tours over all the civilized globe. Retired in 1889 — numerous charities — founded and endowed a home in Paris for poor girls who came to study music — in 1883 created Marchese Torrebianchi by King Umberto 1 — the intimate friend of Rubinstein, Grieg and Paderewski — never married. That's funny, isn't it? (Turning the page) — Well, no matter what you say, I bet she wasn't a bit more wonderful than my divine Geraldine ! (Read- ing) — "Anglican Congress at Detroit — Federation of Churches — Further plans." (Bored) — Oh, dear ! There's the old Conference again. (She yawns and looking up notices that the Bishop's head has fallen.) Sleepy, grandpa? BISHOP; — (Rousing himself) — 1 — ? No, my dear, I was just thinking — that's ail. SUZETTE: — (With affectionate impudence) — I don't believe it I (Yawning) — Well, / am, anyway. May I go to bed now? BISHOP: — Of course, my dear, of course. SUZETTE:— M^ she alights like a bird on the arm of his chair and kisses the top of his head) — Oh, grandpa, you are such an old darling ! BISHOP:— Thank you, my dear. SUZETTE: — (At door) — Please don't sit up too late, will you? And don't forget to turn off all the lights l)efore vou come upstairs. BISHOP:— rA/^H'/y;— I'll do my best. SUZETTE: — Grandpa! (He turns in his chair. She smiles and blows him a kiss) — I love you! (She runs out.) (He sits alone for a moment in silence, then rising slowly, he closes the door and listens. There is no sound. Almost stealthily he goes over to the case where the phonograph records are kept, l-'Uts on his glasses and looks over those lying on the top. Finallv he selects one ivith much care and gingerly puts it on the machine. He starts it going. Then switching off the lights, returns to his armchair by the fire. A ruddy glozv lights up his figure. He care- fully takes from his inside pocket the dead violets and the zvomans handkerchief. Looking at them, he smiles a tender little ghost of a smile and slowly sits dozvn. The rich voice thrills through the darkness. " Ken list du so wohl? Dahin! Dahin! Mochf ich mit dir. O me in Geliebter, siehn!" THE CURTAIN FALLS SOFTLY. FEB 8 1913 PRINTED BY TOWER BROS. STATIONERY CO. 23 WEST 23B0 ST.. NEW YORK