v*- # .o* 6 .....v * rt O • A <^ ,4°«. V * ^ • c<5^wk* o 4> °^ • rfS^N^*^ O . **'•£ /% 5 .'J^l. Lib Col Enter Madame Enter lada Gilda Varesi Gilda Varesi From the original drawing by W. T. Benda §niwBib l£fl Enter Madame A Play in Three Acts By Gilda Varesi and Dolly Byrne Introduction by Alexander Woollcott Frontispiece by W. T. Benda G. P. Putnam's Sons New York and London Gbe fmfcfeerbocfcer fcress 1921 Copyright, 1921 BY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS SL& MAR I I I d CI.A60S648 Produced by Brock Pemberton with the following cast Gerald Fitzgerald Madame 's husband . . Mr. Norman Trevor Mrs. Flora Preston A widow Miss Jane Meredith Tamamoto Mr. Fitzgerald's servant . Mr. George Moto John Fitzgerald His son Mr. Gavin Muir Aline Chalmers John's fiancee .... Miss Sheila Hayes Bice Madame's maid . . . Miss Michelette Burani The Doctor Her personal physician. . Mr. Francis M. Verdi Miss Smith Her secretary .... Miss Minnie Milne Archimede Her chef Mr. William E.Hallman Madame Lisa Della Robbia Miss Gilda Varesi Albert Bannister, Stage Manager. FOREWORD On a sweltering evening in mid- August, 1920 — a night of rumbling thunder and wilted collars and ruined dispositions — this comedy called Enter Madame slipped quietly into New York by way of the then idle Garrick Theatre and immediately estab- lished itself as one of those happy plays which cause stampedes at the box office. The fame of it spread with unusual rapidity. Pilgrims to the great city always arrive with one hand guarding their luggage and the other extend- ing a slip of paper, on which they have jotted down the names of the pieces they intend (or rather hope) to see during their visit. Long before the aforesaid hot spell had entirely abated, it was noted by the sensitive ticket agents that one play was recurring persist- Foreword ently in all those aspiring lists. That play was Enter Madame. Whereat there was rejoicing among all those who like to see whatever is fine-grained and creditable to the theatre greeted with that kind of overwhelming popular support which the pessimists insist is always reserved for what is gross and cheap and tawdry — great rejoicing, indeed, among those who knew, or came to know, something of the story that lay behind the writing and the acting of it. Such back-stage snooping as this implies is often disillusionizing and almost always unwarrantably intrusive. But some glance into what might be called the personal history of Enter Madame is justified because it involves not only the manner but the matter of the play. It is a motley story, one that pokes back a hundred years among the dusty laurels of Italian opera, makes such ambitious leaps as a journey from Rome to Chicago involves, and sketches, in shadowy outline, the tragic vi Foreword figure of one for whom the brilliant and satis- fying premiere of Enter Madame came just too late. This play was written by Gilda Varesi and Dolly Byrne, though, in its earliest days, the identity of Varesi herself as one of its authors was discreetly hidden behind the nom de plume of Giulia Conti. The Madame who enters (and exits) like a dazzling and some- what disturbing comet is a world-famous prima donna, a spoiled, petted, whimsical, stormy lady whose alternating tenderness and tantrums make up what is most easily de- scribed and dismissed as a comedy of tem- perament — just as if that loose description did not fit nearly every comedy which sur- vives in the theatre. This Madame Delia Robbia is just such another first lady of Italian opera as was Elena Varesi, whose sweet voice and unfor- gettable charm made her welcome every season in all the citadels of opera from Berlin to London. Elena Varesi reigned in the vii Foreword eighties, herself the daughter of the great Felice Varesi for whom the baritone role in Rigoletto was written and the granddaughter of that enchanting Luigia Boccabadotti who was such a favourite in Rome in the days when Chateaubriand was writing enthusias- tically about her to Madame Recamier in Paris. It was of such glory that Gilda Varesi, Elena Varesi 's older daughter, trailed the clouds when she came into the world. Now, her most vivid memories of her mother are of a radiant lady, who, when her tours permitted and she happened to feel that way, used occasionally to sweep down on startled Milan where her two daughters had been installed under the wing of a formidable nurse. There would be a shower of gracious gifts and endearments and maternal solicitude crowded into a few exciting days and then the prima donna would go whirling on in her course, perhaps to take the baths at Aix, per- haps to burst on London for a dazzling, fondly cherished engagement at Coven t Garden, viii Foreword Sila Varesi, the younger daughter, is even now singing in Milan. That Gilda Varesi, who gave no operatic promise whatever, did not grow up to grace some provincial stock company in her native Italy is due to the fact that Madame Varesi, when the loss of her voice through illness banished her from opera, was minded to migrate to some distant land lest she be for ever tormented with the memo- ries of the glories that had passed. Somehow, she hit upon Chicago as an exceedingly distant land and there she set up shop as a teacher of singing, that twilight of opera wherein dwell those who have sung their last r61es surrounded by those who have yet to sing their first. When the book of Gilda Varesi's life comes to be written, instead of being darkly fore- shadowed in a mere preface, it will have to tell something of those early Chicago days; of lessons learned arduously at a school of elocu- tion and as arduously unlearned in the actual theatre; of Desdemona's grief conned in secret and roared aloud in the woods to the ix Foreword natural agitation of the birds and squirrels. It will recount the first earnest efforts under Ben Greet, when the young novice played even the mob so strenuously that Mark Antony quite pardonably raged at the diffi- culty of co-operating with a Roman populace that would persist in sitting on the corpse of Caesar. It will describe the first meeting Madame Varesi reluctantly arranged with Modjeska, who heard the young aspirant out in stately silence and engaged her for the next season, but at the same time pronounced the following doom: "She is thin and homely and an artist. On all three counts, the Ameri- can theatre will have none of her." If that story is ever really written, it will — it must — suggest something of the inex- pressible pathos of a dethroned opera singer, grown old and stout in threadbare exile, but still trying gallantly to recapture for her wide- eyed daughter's instruction something of the secret and the fire of a dimly remembered triumph at far-off Co vent Garden. Foreword There will be tales of comic adventures on tour with the veteran Modjeska. It will try — probably in vain — to reproduce something of the curious impression that must have been made in semi-rural communities by "Mary Stuart, " when that German poet's foray into English history was translated and valiantly enacted by a Polish Mary and an Italian Bess. It will tell of the lucky meeting with Mrs. Fiske and of the lessons learned in that most nourishing of all dramatic schools — Mrs. Fiske's company. It will tell of her little triumph as the Italian woman of the tene- ments in Salvation Nell, a role that came to her when she was still in her early twenties. Of course that shining success doomed her, in a theatre which has a besetting passion for reproduction, to a wearying succession of just such scrawny tornadoes and season after season slipped by without the chance ever coming for her to play a protagonistic r61e or even what the people of the show shop call a straight one. It is true that in her capacity xi Foreword as the greatest and most dangerous American understudy she was able to play for a little time the roles of Modjeska in Macbeth, Doris Keane in Romance, and John Barrymore in The Jest. And these were feathers in her cap, bright feathers, but they adorned a cap she was obliged to wear when no one was looking. So it was not until Enter Madame was pro- duced — and this play of hers and Mrs. Byrne's got its hearing at all, thanks to the enthusiasm of Brock Pemberton, who, in directing and presenting it, made his debut as a producer — that Varesi really came into her own. Mind you, this account of her twelve years' struggle is not intended to be read with the tremolo stop out. Mere ab- sence of stardom is not acutely pathetf.c. During those twelve years, the theatre sup- plied Varesi with praise and enough to eat, which is all any one needs in this world. Her prestige was sufficient to satisfy any one — except, perhaps, Elena Varesi. Madame Varesi had sternly opposed this xii Foreword daughter of hers even attempting the stage, so vivid were her own time-enhanced memo- ries of its heartaches. She had believed the post of an obscure school-teacher more to be desired than that of an obscure actress— certainly for a Varesi. The occasional rap- tures of the London and New York critics, which must have been relayed on to her in Chicago, may have pleased her, but they probably did not satisfy her. We shall never know, but we may always guess, that she thought them paltry reward for one whose very great-grandmother had been very great indeed. Enter Madame was produced in August, 1920. Elena Varesi, who had been its in- spiration in more senses than one, did not see it nor read of its reverberant success. Death had released her in June of that year. Alexander Woollcott. xin CONTENTS PAGE Act I 3 Act II 69 Act III 138 ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Gilda Varesi . . Frontispiece Gerald: " You see, my life with you has been colorful, but snatchy" . . 56 Lisa: "He has broken my heart! I only wanted to be loved " ... 66 Gerald: "It was a great little life while it lasted" ..... 108 "To Life, that outruns Chance and Love and Death! To Life, the winner of the race!" 112 xvu ENTER MADAME ACT I A bachelor library in an Apartment Hotel in Boston. At R. a mantel flanked by two windows. In front of it a comfortable chair. On the mantelpiece a large clock, pipes, pouches and boxes of tobacco and cigarettes, pipe holders, etc., are thrown in the greatest disorder. A large fire is burning in the grate. At the centre is a library table en- cumbered with papers, books, blueprints, letter -stands filled with letters, etc. At back a large glass door opens on a corridor. Along the corridor from R. people enter the room from the outside. The corridor to L. leads to the kitchenette and dining room of the apart- ment. Down stage at L. a door opens into the bedroom. In the remaining space a sofa and chairs are grouped. On a small table is a silver coffee service. The grand piano is littered with old magazines. At rise Gerald is walking up and down rest- lessly, smoking a pipe. Enters a handsome 3 Enter Madame blond woman exquisitely and conservatively gowned in morning costume. She has a comfortable corseted figure, a placid, shrewd face. She speaks slowly, soothingly, with a poise that is never shaken. She seems to carry her frank middle age like a decoration. FLORA Well, my dear boy, how is this for prompti GERALD {Takes her in his arms and kisses her fondly.) Flora dear, on time to the dot. By Jove I can't get used to it. You're a miracle; if you'd come floating in at the window or had shot up through the floor it would not seem more wonderful to me than to have a woman keep an appointment on time. FLORA You poor darling boy ! Such a life as you must have led. . . . {Noticing pipe.) 4 Act I Naughty, naughty, smoking like a chimney. What did Flora say only yesterday. . . . GERALD I know, dear, but I'm so nervous; it's a sedative you see. {She sits in chair and pours out his coffee, puts in milk and sugar, and hands it to him.) Won't you have some? FLORA Don't bother about me, thank you. I've had my breakfast. I always have it at 7.30. "Early to bed . . . early to rise . . ." GERALD And you'll meet no famous people. FLORA You're so clever, Gerald. You're always saying the wittiest things. I pride myself on having a sense of humour, and yet I can never think up things like that. 5 Enter Madame GERALD Neither can I. Some more famous humour- ist said that. Some column conductor, I suppose. Seems to me every bright thing you hear at the club comes from one or the other of them. Do you ever read them, Flora? . FLORA I try to sometimes, but I never find any- thing very funny in them, and besides I don't seem to find time to read anything but the headlines. GERALD This is awfully good of you to put yourself out like this to give me breakfast. FLORA Why dear, it's no trouble at all. That's the advantage of living in the same building. All I have to do is take the elevator. GERALD It's a comfort to have you so near. Act I FLORA Don't you have anything but coffee for breakfast ? GERALD Can't eat. Coffee is a stimulant, you know. I'm in such a nervous state that every time I think of food, especially in the morning, every nerve in my stomach seems to stand on end. FLORA There, there, nothing to get worked up about. Flora is here now. You ought never to eat standing. That's what keeps you thin. GERALD That's right. Fine for the figure. FLORA Whenever your nerves try to get the better of you, take some deep breaths and say the multiplication table backwards. Some great man used to do that — Buddha or Christopher 7 Enter Madame Columbus or Henry James. Well, someone like that, dear. GERALD You make a lovely picture sitting there. "But well thou play est the housewife's part And all thy threads with magic art Have wound themselves about this heart." FLORA Oh, Gerald, did you make that up about me? GERALD No, but the poet who wrote that was a lucky devil. He was half starved all his life, but he had a wife who stuck to him and starved with him. FLORA To starve is a shiftless sort of a thing to do it seems to me and I never could bear artists of any kind. They don't seem decent to me somehow. So many of them are foreigners, 8 Act I but it isn't that, because I know some very- nice French people, and once I met a charm- ing Russian. But artists seem so immodest, so gauche, if you know what I mean. Every time you pick up a paper you read something about their divorces, their stolen jewels, or their twins. GERALD Twins ! Few of them stay married long enough for that. FLORA Oh, my dear, I hope I haven't said anything to hurt you. I almost forgot about Madame Delia Robbia. John's train must be late. You expected him before this, didn't you? GERALD Yes, the young upstart should be here by now. What's keeping him, anyway? FLORA I suppose John must be more like his mother than you. You know the artistic 9 Enter Madame temperament crops out, like drink, or in- sanity. I've noticed it before in John — never on time, and his taste in cravats ! GERALD Oh, well, he is young. Wait till he gets through college before we criticize him too severely. After all he's a manly, likable chap, though heaven knows we were never very congenial. Now, before he gets here there are some things I feel I must tell you. When I wrote Lisa to ask her to divorce me I told her that she wouldn't suffer financially, that if she let me go without a fuss I'd see she was well taken care of. There's the difficulty. That's one of the things we've got to face; Lisa is a most expensive person. FLORA But, my dear, she must make heaps of money. GERALD God knows what she does with it! She never has a cent put away. She calls on 10 Act I me to make up the deficit at least twice a year. FLORA You mean to tell me a prima donna as popular as she is doesn't even make enough to pay her bills. Then all these stories of artists' fabulous salaries you read in the papers are lies? GERALD No, some of the figures are real enough. Lisa is one of the best paid prima donnas in Europe, but she's generous, lavish, she has the taste of an oriental, she — well she's Lisa. What's the use of trying to explain her. Wait till you see her. I wonder, Flora, whether you have any conception of what my married life has been. To be bustled continuously about the world, to be for ever readjusting one's digestive apparatus to the atrocious cooking of a dozen different nations, to spend one's waking hours in the foyers of hotels and amid the maddening babel of the back-stage ii Enter Madame regions of opera houses, to use one's home only as a coaling station or dry-dock, and to be free not even then from the trillings and tootings and mi-mi-mi's of the prima donna and her musical entourage who hover about her and are at once atmosphere, press agents, and Greek chorus. In fact, to be the husband of the prima donna, to be referred to by a London paper as Mr. Gerald Delia Robbia and to be nominated by a New York news- paper wag as President of the Only Her Husband's Club. Such has been my life. Divorce has always seemed a detestable, crude thing to me, a sort of public acknow- ledgment of failure and defeat, and yet I know, Flora, that you with your womanly heart will see that the failure was not alto- gether my fault. Marriage is a game, but lord, it's not solitaire. FLORA Yes I know, Gerald dear. I am sure it wasn't your fault. 12 Act I GERALD But this is what I started to say when the memory of the past twenty years unlocked my tongue: As soon as we see Lisa and ar- range this thing harmoniously, I am going to fix a substantial marriage settlement on you so that you will be provided for no matter what happens. FLORA Oh, Gerald, how generous of you. GERALD Nonsense. And now if you don't mind you may give me a kiss. FLORA Dear silly boy — there. (Kisses him.) (john and aline enter unnoticed.) JOHN What again ! GERALD {Furiously.) Again, what do you mean by again! Why didn't Tamamoto show you in? 13 Enter Madame JOHN I don't know, but he didn't. GERALD (Working himself up.) Well, why didn't he? That was my question. JOHN The same thing happened last Christmas when I came home. If I'd known it would happen again, I wouldn't have brought Aline. FLORA Gerald, explain to him immediately — the very idea. . . . GERALD (Thoroughly worked up.) You'd no business coming in like that — I told you last Christmas that you'd no business coming in like that — and here you go and do it again! How dare you, how dare you do 14 Act I the same thing again, how dare you disobey me. . . . FLORA (Furiously.) It isn't the same thing! Remember of whom you are speaking. There's never been a breath against my reputation. Oh what a dreadful situation! That's what comes of doing a kindness. (Starts to go.) GERALD No, Flora, no, stay where you are. FLORA Not another minute. . . . GERALD Wait Flora . . . Flora, this is Miss Aline Chalmers, . . . John, this is Mrs. Preston, who has done me the honour, . . . well . . . my future wife. JOHN Your what ? 15 Enter Madame FLORA Well I do hope it wasn't the same thing last Christmas. GERALD (Soothingly.) Not at all the same. Now please don't be unreasonable. FLORA And you mean to stand there and tell me that in this same room . . . GERALD (Quickly.) It wasn't at all the same. I had the table on the other side of the room. JOHN (Coming forward.) I say, what about mother! . . . GERALD I am coming to that. That's why I asked you to come home before the end of the term. 16 Act I I've got a lot to say to you. But look here, where are your manners. Why don't you ask Aline to sit down? ALINE {She has stopped near the door.) Oh, I am so sorry, I — please, I must be going. GERALD Perhaps it would be just as well. You see all this has an explanation that's as plain as the nose on my face — but you mustn't speak of it to your mother yet ; it's premature, she wouldn't understand — wait till I catch Tamamoto. JOHN {Bitterly.) I'm glad Aline came along. She might as well know what kind of a crazy family she's marrying into. GERALD Whom's she marrying? 17 Enter Madame JOHN Me! GERALD You! Rot! Rot I tell you! Why you aren't old enough to earn cigarette money. JOHN {Looking meaningly at flora.) Look here sir, I'm old enough to under- stand that my fiancee ought not to be here — Come Aline. FLORA Wait, please. If you don't explain to those children at once I'll never look you in the face again. GERALD Sit down the pair of you. Aline might as well know now as later. John, your mother is coming home ! JOHN {Sarcastically — as they both sit on sofa.) Indeed ! 18 Act I GERALD Yes — as usual she won't write if she's within reach of a cable. Not even the news I had to give her about Mrs. Preston could shake a letter out of her. JOHN (Warmly in defence.) It's her warm heart. She loves to know that what she feels reaches you as soon as possible — warm from her fingers as it were. (Touched by his own eloquence.) Lord, Governor, how can you treat her so ! GERALD (Has pawed out the cables and is arrang- ing them chronologically as he talks. Stung by the reproach.) Yes, the warmth of her fingers has to reach me by cable. Mighty little warmth has reached me otherwise. You know nothing at all about it, you young romancer. 19 Enter Madame JOHN Well, she has her profession, hasn't she? If you loved her you'd stay with her. GERALD Well, I have my profession, haven't I? JOHN {Sulkily.) Never saw you break your neck over it. GERALD {Furiously.) Much you know about it. I work like a dog. JOHN {Sulkily.) Just about. Never saw a dog work yet. GERALD Now look here, I won't tell you anything more if you are impertinent. 20 Act I FLORA Now wait Gerald. Of course we expected John to take his mother's part. GERALD (To JOHN.) Go along with her if that's all the advice you've got to give. Do you want me to be the husband of the prima donna, and to carry her poodle through all the capitals of Europe? I've done it enough! Never again! JOHN You should have thought of that before. This is an insult to mother, and puts her in a damnable position. GERALD There you go off at half cock. You don't know anything about it. How can you under- stand the feelings of a grown man. I want a home. I want my own fireside. I want to see my slippers toasting by the hearth when I 21 Enter Madame come in after a hard day's work. I want the ministering hands of a woman. JOHN Rot. You are tired of mother and you want a change — why don't you say so ? GERALD There you see Flora, what's the use ! {Gesticulates with the telegrams.) FLORA Never mind. You can't expect him to understand all at once. It's natural devotion to his mother. GERALD Nothing of the sort. He's scarcely seen her either, since he was a youngster and used to trail around Europe after her in search of a liberal education. JOHN She's my mother, and I'll see she gets a square deal. 22 Act I GERALD {Shouting.) Who wants to give her anything else? FLORA That's right — everything will come right if we'll just keep calm. Read the cables. GERALD {Calming himself.) Yes, here they are. All concise and away off the point. But I've gathered that Ma- dame intends to come home. The first is from Madrid: ''Oh, my Gerald, these golden autumn days mock the misery in my eyes. Lisa." JOHN She's broken-hearted. I won't stand for it- Do you hear? GERALD Hear them all, and then judge : "Spain, land passionate and ascetic. The 23 Enter Madame night long I danced until the Duke of Alva stole my slipper. Lisa." FLORA Dear, dear, what a liberty to take ! JOHN (In arms.) Well, she couldn't help that, could she? FLORA Perhaps not. But she needn't boast about it. GERALD The next came from Barcelona: "I fled the opera quite at once in the middle of Salve Dimora. The turmoil of my flight rumbled behind me in the silent streets. A mob like angry bees sought me in vain. I found peace on a tall ship that rocked. Lisa." FLORA Mercy what a long cablegram. Is it in cipher? 24 Act I GERALD Oh, no. Lisa, you must remember, is a foreigner. FLORA Yes, yes, of course, dear. JOHN And a very nice thing to be. Mrs. Preston, you talk as though it were some disease. She's the most wonderful woman in the world. I can read right through to what she was thinking and suffering when she sent those cables. GERALD I don't believe your mother's got a heart when the music stops. FLORA It's a dreadful waste of money. ALINE I think she's a darling. How did those foreign officials get those cables right? 25 Enter Madame GERALD She probably stood over them with a stiletto. Lisa isn't one to have her effects spoiled. ALINE It's very beautiful and poetic, but what does it all mean. GERALD Trouble undoubtedly. All Madame' s most strenuous arguments are conducted in verse libre. JOHN After all, why should she care? She's probably jolly glad to get rid of you, if the truth were known. • GERALD Look here ! If you expect to talk like that to me, get out of my house. Good Lord, here I am trying to be frank and calm and sensible, trying to talk to you as if you were a man and 26 Act I an equal, to see if we can come to some amic- able solution of the problem. . . . FLORA Now patience, patience, dear. John . . . may I call you that? It seems absurd not to, under the circumstances. GERALD Call him anything you like. That's much too good for him. FLORA Of course, John, you are beautifully loyal to your mother. We expect nothing else of you. But won't you consider just a moment what an unsatisfactory life your father has led? JOHN He always seemed to me to be jolly well off. FLORA That's only his dear courageous way— why he's been a wanderer on the face of the earth; he's had no home; he's been so lonely. 27 Enter Madame JOHN I've never noticed him alone, not long enough to make a very deep impression on me. GERALD Now that will do. Never mind Flora — don't listen to him. This last telegram came some days ago. I gather that if Madame stowed away on that rocking ship it was probably heading for America. So she ought to arrive very soon. {Fishes out the morning paper.) I phoned last night to the lines that stop at Barcelona or start from there, but her name is not on their passenger lists. She may have travelled incognito. She'd love that. She's probably posing as an escaped queen. She won't miss a chance, that's sure. Come in. (tamamoto comes in after a discreet knock with a telegram on a tray.) Oh, halloo there. Another cablegram. {Exit TAMAMOTO.) {Tears it open.) 28 Act I "Arriving. Steamer Mongolia. In my heart is peace and blessings for all. My arms are filled with roses. Lisa." (Tears it up.) JOHN (Rising.) Great! ALINE Is the ship in? FLORA What a pleasant message. I knew she would understand. (gerald has been looking through paper.) GERALD (Reading the ship's name.) Mongolia — Lord bless us. It's in ! (There's a silence.) JOHN Do you think she'll come here to stay? With us? 29 Enter Madame GERALD The place was big enough five years ago. Unless her retinue has grown in the meantime. JOHN Do you think she is bringing the whole cavalcade along? GERALD She left in such a hurry she may have over- looked 'em. From past experience we'd better keep away from the boat. Six feet of you, John, would be a blow to the Delia Robbia pose of perennial youth. ALINE Surely she'll be crazy to see John. JOHN (At the window.) Don't bother about me, Aline. Mother and I understand each other. We don't have to show off. 30 Act I GERALD {Calling into next room.) Tamamoto. . . . Isn't it like her to drop on us like this. (tamamoto enters.) Here, Tamamoto, pack up my things and send them over to the club. And order some flowers. JOHN {Excitedly.) I'd go for flowers myself only I am afraid to miss her. FLORA I'll run along and drop in when you've all met . . . just offhand you know. Oh, my dear, I wish I could help you see it through. GERALD I'll take you to the elevator. {Exit.) 3i Enter Madame JOHN Disgusting! Never mind, Aline. I know you'll love mother. She's wonderful ! ALINE She must be John — because she is your mother. JOHN Do you know sometimes I wonder how I can love you both so much. You are so different. ALINE Perhaps that's why. With such a famous mother I don't see how you can be interested in me. I'll never be famous. Will that matter? JOHN Why no. Don't ever change. Always be just you. ALINE My poor little engagement! I thought it was such big news last night. No one said a 32 Act I word about it except to mention the fact that it's all rot ! JOHN (Coming to her.) Mother won't make fun of it. You wait. I don't know what to do. I don't dare go down for fear of disgracing her with my long legs ... I hope mother won't mind too much that I'm a man. (Enter gerald. Much noise is heard behind him.) GERALD Alarums without. I've got stage fright. (A tremendous noise is heard outside of Italian, French, Russian, Japanese, American. Enter first bice. She's short, fat, birdlike in face and move- ment. She is dressed fantastically, in a manner to compel attention. Her voice is shrill and hard with sudden flashes of tenderness. She is a mix- 33 Enter Madame ture of undying devotion, utter ras- cality, meanness, and generosity.) Well, Bice, still alive. How are you? BTCE Signor Geraldo. Madonna benedetta. How beautiful, how young you look. (He tries to help her with her shawl.) No thank you. I can do that myself. Ah! Tamamoto ! guar da fammi il piacere aiutami. TAMAMOTO (Very cross.) No understand. . . . GERALD Tamamoto, you are to do what Bice says. BICE (Loading him with her hat and cloak.) Bring here immediate portmanteaux Nos. "15" and "22" and open them on the floor. Go! Quick! (Sees JOHN.) Giovannino, il Signor Giovannino. 34 Act I JOHN (Embracing her.) Dear old thing, it's good to see you. Where's mother? (tamamoto goes into bedroom with his burden.) BICE Right away your mother she come. My how tall he is ! He was like that. (Indicates height.) JOHN This is Miss Chalmers, Bice. BICE River ita Signorina. (Curtsying. Then to JOHN, wagging a knowing finger .) Ah! the little bride already — eh? ALINE How do you do, Bice ! Can John and I help you? 35 Enter Madame (While bice is talking tamamoto has come from the inner room staggering under valises and has opened them on the floor, bice, as soon as this is done, flurries about him like a hen — her flouncy wide skirts fluttering like wings.) BICE Yes indeed, Madame she likes to have her home wherever she go — she's all for cosy, all for home, you remember that Signor Geraldo? (gerald grins from ear to ear.) Put these ornaments on the mantelpiece — here are sofa pillows, scarves; the picture frames belong on the table. Madame likes to have her friends about her. Have you flowers? Good, put them in these vases. Tamamoto, get a basket and clear away all the papers from that table; go, go quick! (gerald rushes to rescue some files of letters.) (As the ornaments are being put in their 36 Act I places tamamoto returns with a large basket.) Aline, put these candles in Madame's room. She hate sudden light. She want all soft. GERALD We're not getting young are we, Bice? BICE Ah, Monsieur will have the shock of his life. Madame look seventeen. (bice takes the basket that tamamoto presents to her and holding it under the mantelshelf she sweeps into it all the tobacco jars, cigarette boxes, and odds and ends.) There you go! GERALD {Helplessly.) Yes, there you go. (tamamoto exits with them.) (bice sees gerald in arm-chair.) 37 Enter Madame BICE Ah, beg pardon, but this is Madame's corner. (gerald disgustedly crosses to sofa.) BICE She brings her home wherever she go. You remember that. GERALD Yes! Don't I! BICE (Looking about room.) Oh, what a change already. (tamamoto enters with a large wreath, white dove in centre.) GERALD Holy Moses, who's responsible for that? BICE Ah ! Signor Giovanni, who done that ! My God, who has done that to my madame ! She will yell without a doubt ! 38 Act I GERALD (Who has read the card.) Ahem ! A friend sent it, Bice. BICE Santi Bendetti ! GERALD That stays, Bice. Put it here, Tamamoto ! BICE Ah ! but it is wonderful ! Although Signore, if you permit — The little dead bird up there. In Italy we say he bring bad luck. GERALD In America we have no bad luck ! BICE (Shrugging her shoulders.) Eh\ fortunati loro, so much the better! (The room has now been transformed into an ornate, bizarre, and comfort- able apartment. The last traces of poor Gerald's reign have entirely 39 Enter Madame disappeared. Enter chef from back With TAMAMOTO.) {The cook's voice has never ceased for a moment, and though tamamoto does not make a sound, the immobility of his face would strike terror to the heart of any cook less determined. As it is the chef is frightened.) CHEF (ARCHIMEDE.) Vieni qui Bice per Vamor di Dio. Ah! Signor Geraldo, servitor e suo. GERALD Archimede, you old sinner, what's the matter ? ARCHIMEDE It is just you I must see — I am cook — My duty I must perform. Without me Madame she die. Of course she cannot eat the mess of the foreign gentleman there. He very handsome. Oh yes I do not say. He make fine piece of statuary if he sit cross leg — 40 Act I but cook that is me. I am cook from head to foot. He say "I cook." I say, "I cook." He say, "My gentleman must eat me." I say, ' ' Madame never eat nothing that is not me." And yet the machine in there js like that. {Makes two little circles with the thumb and first finger of each hand.) How can we cook together ! TAMAMOTO {Intensely.) I am cook this place. No one go my kitchen. GERALD Ah ! Now we'll see some fun. ARCHIMEDE {Persuasively, almost in tears.) But Madame. She cannot eat you. She want me, me. Saints in Heaven, do I cook in my hat ? 4i Enter Madame GERALD Tamamoto, during the stay of Madame Delia Robbia her chef will do the cooking. TAMAMOTO I do not like noise. I do not like. Old man make slop — fat woman make confuse — parrot, dog, cat, orders pass around my head like a strong hail. No can do — go. (tamamoto bows and exits.) GERALD (Aghast.) God bless our happy home ! ARCHIMEDE (Blithely.) Grazie, Signor Geraldo. I go, I go. I cook such dinners, you lick your fingers. (Exit.) BICE (Excitedly.) The screen ! Madonna we forget the screen. Archimede, il paravento! (archimede runs to the door.) 42 Act I Is it in the kitchen ! If we have left it on the sheep! We are all lost. Madame die of pneumonia, of the consumption from draft. {Enter doctor dragging screen. It is a magnificent Chinese affair.) Ah! Grazie al cielo. Grazie dottore. {Enter miss smith.) (john helps bice place the screen behind Madame' s chair.) GERALD Hello Doctor. How do you do Miss Smith. It's a blessing you found the screen. I'd have been a raving maniac. {At R.of doctor.) MISS SMITH They put it with my baggage! So absurd {Thumping her chest.) Do I look as though I needed a screen? GERALD No indeed ! This is John. You remember John. 43 Enter Madame doctor and miss smith Oh Madonna! ) frfy A . s xj >±u .\ (Together) Hasn t he grown !J DOCTOR I rejoice to see you both so well and beauti- ful. Madame she come now. We have a little trouble at the custom. I must hasten to prepare the nerve tonic. Scusatemi. (Exits.) MISS SMITH You will excuse me. I always take a cold bath before my work begins. Excuse me! Excuse me! (Exits.) BICE (She's gone out during talk and returns. In a hushed excited voice.) Enter Madame. ( Yelling to cook.) Archimede, the broth, Madame come — quick, quick. (Exits.) 44 Act I (Gerald stands with his back to the mantel, john is up stage eagerly awaiting his mother, aline stands near him holding his hand. Enter lisa della robbia. She imme- diately catches sight of john. For a moment she cannot move, she trembles with emotion , then wordlessly she flies into his arms. A long embrace, then leaning from him she gazes into his face.) LISA Johnnie! My little Johnnie has become a man! Ah, how the great earth must sigh as the generations rush by like a mighty wind and drop, as the wind drops, at sunset ! JOHN {Enthusiastically. ) Gee! it's great to have you come mother. You always knock us off our feet. You look 45 Enter Madame ripping ! ripping ! Doesn't she Aline? This is Aline mother. {Bashfully.) Aline Chalmers, you know. (lisa quite lost among her poetic similes blinks a little as the torrent of boyish enthusiasm pours about her.) LISA Aline! Aline Chalmers? JOHN You know mother, Aline LISA (Remembering.) Oh — oh yes ! (Embraces her. Then looking at her.) What a dark child. Why more like my child than you. Oh, no. (To aline, pointing to his hair.) You see, he get that — from his Venetian ancestors. (Putting them side by side.) 46 Act I One, two! Just as one group flowers. Oh such a beautiful two ! Child speak, I want to hear the timbre of your voice. ALINE I don't know what to say. . . . LISA Ver' light Soprano, perhaps it will grow. Now say : I love you. JOHN {Shocked.) She's shy mother. LISA Why not ! go on ! ALINE (Is very shy, then slowly she turns her face up to John and says in a sweet trembling voice as if gathering courage from his look.) I love you ! 47 Enter Madame LISA Ah, the darlings, the darlings ! (JOHN points to GERALD.) (lisa sees him for the first time and rushes to him, followed by john who glares at his father. She holds out her hand. He takes it and kisses it.) GERALD Lisa, it's always The Great Day when you come. LISA Is it my Gerald. Then I must rejoice that I have come so far ! (She lays one hand on her husband's shoulder and the other on John's as they stand on either side of her and says softly:) Two such big men and one little woman. Why did I stay away so long? My Gerald's 48 Act I hair grows grey and our boy has become a man GERALD (Down L.) Don't take his six feet to heart, my dear. I couldn't very well keep him in short trousers till you came, but I'm quite young enough to do for both. LISA Life has rushed by me like a swift wind, and the sound of my voice singing silly little tunes has deafened me to the rush of its passing. (john and aline are deeply impressed but Gerald looks at her with a whimsi- cal smile, lisa is hurt by it.) Ah, of course, I forgot. This is America. Here when the heart speaks, the lips say "Fine weather we are having." Ough! Where are my servants? Where is Bice! Bice! (bice enters.) 4 49 Enter Madame BICE Si Signora — un momento. (lisa hands bice her hat and offers her shoulders to have her wraps removed.) LISA {Furiously.) Ma come, ' ' Un momento! ' ' Sono ore che mi lasci li colla roba addosso — ore! {Turns and sees gerald in her arm chair.) E lasci che la gente si sieda nella mia sedia! (bice, sees gerald in the arm-chair. Motions for him to leave, which he does disgustedly.) {Sits in her arm-chair triumphantly and motions to aline to kneel near her.) Dear child, tell me your name once more. ALINE Aline . . . LISA Aline! In Italian "Ali" means wings. You look like that, child a bird with swift 50 Act I white wings. Now fly off with my John while I rest. Fly off but not too far; just where I can hear the twitter of your voice and glimpse the flutter of your wings — the little dove. Au revoir my darlings. (doctor enters, lisa sees him and immediately sinks back into the chair moaning gently. Exit children.) GERALD (Starts up to go to her, but sees the doctor and lays back on sofa.) DOCTOR (Down to L.) Ah Signora mia che imprudenza! Always she eats herself up. She must drink this at once. (At the doctor s command lisa tastes the medicine, finding it bitter she makes a face and waves it away.) I command. And then completely she rest . . . two . . . three hours. 5i Enter Madame LISA (Weakly.) Oh dottore! Life demands that I be strong. DOCTOR With rest will come strength. GERALD The doctor is right. Of course you must be tired. I'll go now. LISA (Coming to life at once.) No! no! I will not sleep — vada via dottore — la prego — There is much I have to do — later I rest — Now I must speak with my husband. GERALD (Rising.) My dear, there's plenty of time. LISA No! novo! (To the doctor, motioning him away with a smile.) 52 Act I Vada! (The doctor stands his ground stub- bornly presenting his medicine.) (Sweetly, as if conferring a favour on a child.) All right ! I take the medicine. (Seeing the doctor still determined to insist on her swallowing the stuff in his presence.) I'll take it— I promise most faithfully! (doctor goes shrugging his shoulders. Exits, lisa in looking for a vase or something into which to pour the doctor's medicine comes across Mrs. Preston s bouquet.) Madonna mia, Gerald, did you bring that thing for my grave? GERALD No Lisa, Mrs. Preston of whom I wrote you . . . she . . . LISA Ah! I see. She sends a peace offering. 53 Enter Madame . . 5 The little dove — She is subtle this lady! GERALD My dear girl, you will twist things your own way. She just wished to be kind, to welcome you, that sort of thing. LISA Ah ! that sort of thing. Gerald, it's wonder- ful. It is as if she stood in the room. (Shivers.) So that's who she is. GERALD Nothing of the sort — She was in a hurry. She probably bought the first thing she saw. To me it looks like a naive, but warm and sincere impulse. LISA Mine was an impulse, warm and sincere. Did I do well to come? Are you glad to see me? GERALD To see you has always been my delight. 54 Act I The trouble is I haven't had enough of it to keep me from starving. LISA And from now on you wish to die of starva- tion? GERALD Oh no! That's not my intention. Just to try some other kind of nourishment. LISA {Nodding toward flowers.) Ah! it will not agree with you, it's rather heavy fare. {Thoughtfully.) That's what puzzles me. So she looks like that ! Until now your amourettes were more like a series of hors d'ceuvres. GERALD Lisa, this lady, well — it's a difficult thing to explain in a letter. You see my life with you has been colourful, but snatchy. It has been more like the experience of a playgoer. 55 Enter Madame At intervals the curtain came down and I left the theatre of your presence always re- gretfully, always eager to come again, and with the sense that it wasn't real and couldn't be expected to be real — that was the fun of it and the charm of it — but it's an awful pace to keep up. Frankly I don't see how you do it! LISA Ah, and now you no longer care to go to the play, it is October in your life, — the landscape glows, the sun is still warm, but the evenings are chilly and you like to sit by the fire en famille, in your slippers. . . . (Points to them.) GERALD Lord, I haven't had time to change. . . . LISA And the lady of the dove will sit opposite in that big fat chair, which she will completely fill . . . and she will . . . (Rises.) My God! 56 Gerald: "You see, my life with you has been colorful, but snatchy.' Act I GERALD Now, that doesn't appeal to you, does it? LISA (With fervour.) Oh no!!! GERALD Well, there you are, you see . . . LISA (Change of mood. Apparently making the best of it.) All right, all right. I am a woman of the world. I understand. It was nice to talk it over quietly together. Mon ami, — bon ami — la! Shake hands a Vanglaise — en bon camarade! (Offers hand.) (They shake hands.) GERALD My dear Lisa, I am no more blind today than I ever was. To me you are the most fascinating woman in the world. 57 Enter Madame LISA Oh, thank you. That makes it easier for me to tell you my little story . . . the real reason for my coming. . . . GERALD What now? LISA Your letter arrived at a most opportune moment. I also have met someone, not too young, not too old, not as old as you, not as young as me. Just right you know. He is a great poet, no money he have, no jewels to bring to me . . . just his heart and his poems he lay at my feet . . . when you write me of the American Lady I say ... all is well — soon I too can marry. GERALD (is dumbfounded for a moment, then he breaks into a roar of laughter. Up and down C.) 58 Act I A poet, a spring poet. Oh, Lisa, come off. I don't believe a word of it. LISA Oh, you do not believe eh ? You then are the only one who has yearnings! You are tired of romance, you sigh for quiet, for peace, for old slippers! What have I to do with these things? For years you leave me all alone. GERALD I leave you alone ? LISA I am Lisa Delia Robbia who is always young. I starve for romance, for poetry. Now I find it and I take it ; you can have the old slippers. GERALD Don't be a fool, Lisa. If there's anything in this you must be mad. Some fool versify- ing boy. Where will you get the money to support him? Do you expect me to do it? 59 Enter Madame First there is your villa at Viareggio; — then the castle in Andalusia that you bought to make our dreams come true; there's your entourage : Bice, the old ruffianness, the secre- tary, the doctor, the blooming cook, the dogs, the jewels, these marvellous exits and en- trances, these scenic effects. Bah! You have the extravagances of an empress. In spite of all the money you make, the burden has been a pretty heavy one for me. God knows I haven't grumbled. I've realized that you must have your trappings. But now by God this must all change. I've no intention of maintaining a pet poet. LISA I, Lisa Delia Robbia, am to be thrown aside like an old shoe, to live alone, to wither like an autumn leaf, to die alone. That is my fate which you plan for me. No, I tell you, no. Bah for your money, for your common ideas, your flatfooted slippers — Bah, I say. (Crosses to front of sofa.) 60 Act I GERALD All of a sudden this passion for romance, this melodrama of dying alone. For years I've begged you to come back to me or to let me be with you and what did you answer me. You must be free. You must be alone! I've been nothing to you, nothing mattered, nothing but your own headstrong way. LISA I am Delia Robbia. Love is my master and my slave. I am young as eternity, old as the moons, wise as the stars. GERALD Oh stop, Lisa! Stop acting! (Grabs her arm and jerks her back on to sofa. Now you listen to me. You're a conceited middle-aged woman, whose career is on the wane. You never were a beauty at any time in your life. You've been spoiled and petted ; self has been your God and you've served 61 Enter Madame him well. You've done what you pleased and never counted the cost. Oh, you've had your fill of fame and glory, and what was our part — John's and mine — in your game? Even now we couldn't meet you at the boat. We mustn't be seen. We might spoil the scenery. You know how we yielded to your whims and even now, God help me — I can't stand quietly by and see you make a fool of yourself. A poet — bah! Look, I'll show you something. {Holds the mirror to her face.) (She draws back.) You are growing old, Lisa! There's too much rouge here. Too much make-up, too much trouble to gain your effects. How dare you speak of poets, of romance. You're growing old, Lisa, old I tell you, old ! (Throws mirror on table. Stands watch- ing her.) LISA (Slowly rises, her j ace bathed with tears.) Am I so very old Gerald, too old for you to love, too old to love you? 62 Act I GERALD {Impulsively runs to her and takes her into his arms.) Lisa! Oh, it's good to love you, and it's not half bad to kiss you either. I dare say that's all you want. I tell you Lisa it isn't that I'm not grateful to you. Why you've been the most exquisite, magnificent, the most ideal mistress a man ever had. LISA Gerald. . . . {Pushing him away.) GERALD What else would you call it? Have you the faintest idea of what it means to be a wife? LISA Gerald. GERALD You've lived with me, but have you ever been a wife to me? Why, my dear girl, have you ever stopped to think that if I hadn't 63 Enter Madame been the impetuous, well brought up young fool that I was, I need never have married you. It wouldn't have made the least difference. LISA Gerald ! This is too much. . . . (Crosses to L.) GERALD Just a few hurried words before a justice of the peace. And the joke of it. . . . The first thing you did was to lose your marriage certificate, the next thing was to lose your ring ! The other day I looked for my marriage lines and I'll be hanged if / know where they are. ... In order to prove we are married at all I'll have to hunt up the files of the Ar- chives in Milan. And look at our life — God the whole thing is the damnedest joke there is. LISA (Angerly.) Gerald, I'll never forgive you the longest day I live. Very well, then divorce, divorce, 64 Act I you shall have it. Oh, I wish I had it here now that I might throw it in your sneering face. {Enter tamamoto.) TAMAMOTO Mrs. Preston calling. . . . LISA {Hysterically.) No, no, no, go away, I won't see her! I will not see her. {Exit TAMAMOTO.) {To GERALD.) Go, go, go, I don't want to set eyes upon your face again. GERALD {Exits.) (lisa, left alone stands for a moment as if turned to stone. Then a tremen- dous paroxysm of rage shakes her from head to foot. She is very still, very silent, wave upon wave of fury passes 5 65 Enter Madame down her rigid body; she twists a help- less pillow in her hands; twice a scream seems about to break from her throat but each time it is painfully choked back — finally catching sight of flora's unhappy bouquet, with one sweep of a stiff arm she drags it to the floor. At the noise of its falling the doors open, and her servants all rush to her. The chef with a cup of broth; bice with a fan, while the doctor carries her to the arm-chair. They all gather about her.) (john enters.) JOHN Mother dear, mother. LISA {Shrieking hysterically.) John, John, he has broken my heart. I only wanted to be loved. What have I done to deserve all this ! 66 Act I JOHN I am here mother, I'll protect you. I'll give my life to you. LISA (Absentmindedly patting him.) Thank you Johnnie dear, thank you. (Then weakly.) I must rest — Oh, what a face I must have ! JOHN You do look tired ! LISA Do I look old? — Oh, Madonna! Do I look very old ! Bice — send for someone — a facial massage, a hot bath, a masseuse, presto per Vamor di Dio (Exit bice at R.) JOHN Doctor, can't you give her something to make her sleep ? 67 Enter Madame LISA Johnnie dear. . . . (Raises herself half to her feet.) This is check? but not yet checkmate! — this is war but not defeat ! . . . (Enter bice with a beautiful tea gown.) BICE See Madame what I get for you! Isn't it beautiful ? LISA (Looking at the tea gown.) (Suddenly forgets her troubles, she smiles up at bice, her breath still catches in her throat as the hysteria subsides slowly.) Ma guarda quanto e carino! tutte quei ghiri gori sono interessanti! ma Sai ci vorrebbe qualche cosa con un po piu di brio un po piu di slancio! CURTAIN 68 ACT II The time that elapses is the time it takes to get the first decree of divorce. It is early after- noon and Madame is taking her nap. The little parlour is bathed in the soft glow of the sun and of a large fire that is burning in the grate. BICE, MISS SMITH, the DOCTOR, and ARCHIMEDE are standing together in a hushed group, thoughtfully, sorrowfully, like people who have just received a blow, bice is crying. BICE Ah, my Signora, my gay little Signora — it will kill her. MISS SMITH (Deprecatingly.) Oh I don't think it will kill her. 69 Enter Madame THE DOCTOR Spirits of ammonia and perhaps I will even go so far as a mild injection of mor- phine, ver' mild, ver' mild; with Madame one must be careful, the reactions are too violent. ARCHIMEDE I will cook her risotto that will be better. I have know her to eat it with gusto when she was in such sorrow that the tears run down her face into the plate. BICE Oh, you all — you don't know her as I know. These last two weeks I sleep in there. Every night she go to sleep on my breast like a child. "Bice," she say, " perhaps he come back to- morrow" every night she say, " perhaps he come back tomorrow" and I say, "but Madame refuse to see him when he come." "Perhaps he come anyway," she say, "per- haps he break in the door and cry: 'my Lisa! 70 Act II the sun is gone out of my Heaven, since Lisa is gone out of my life!' " MISS SMITH Mr. Gerald is an Irishman, isn't he? BICE Yes. MISS SMITH Well, then perhaps he might behave that way. DOCTOR Mr. Fitzgerald has come again and again. I open the door to him myself once; he say: "I want to apologize to her, doctor, try to persuade her to see me," but she would not. BICE {Goes to door of bedroom and listens.) She wanted him to break in the door. Now it's too late. MISS SMITH The best thing is work — she must plunge right into work. Weissman wants her for a 7i Enter Madame concert tour, it's an amazing amount of money. He's been pestering the life out of us. She might as well take it. We must urge her to take it. {Enter JOHN.) JOHN {To miss smith) down C. rises goes up c.) Where is she? I came as soon as I got your message. Does she know already? BICE She's still asleep. We thought it would be better if you broke the news to her. JOHN Is that the lawyer's letter? miss smith {Hands him the letter.) It's the announcement of the court grant- ing the decree of divorce. 72 Act II JOHN We'll have to take mother back to Europe now. I'll go along of course. I suppose father will want to marry right away, and mother mustn't be here. BICE Oh, no! Nothing of the kind, the old libertine will have to wait. I beg your pardon of course, but he is a pig and a libertine that breaks my Signora's heart. JOHN Why would he have to wait? BICE It is the law. MISS SMITH The decree will not be absolute, except after the lapse of three months. JOHN Why then they are not divorced. 73 Enter Madame BICE Oh, yes. MISS SMITH (AH It's a formality. Together) DOCTOR They are divorced. MISS SMITH It's just that they can't remarry before the three months are over. {From the inner room comes a cascade of coloratura, trills, runs ending with: "Bice, Bice, Bice!" il Vieni sul, mio core amor el" The door is thrown open and lisa enters in high good humour fresh from a good sleep. She wears an entranc- ing negligee, and her hair is loosely knotted. She stands smiling brightly on the assembled crowd of worried people.) 74 Act II LISA {Brightly.) Guar da quanta gente! Cosa, c'e. Oh Johnnie all dressed up, where are you going? Johnnie, don't look like that no matter what has happened you must not look like that. Never! Miss Smith — out, out! you know I cannot bear to wait, I never wait ! What is, What is, what is ! Quick ! MISS SMITH (Quickly handing paper.) The first decree of divorce. (lisa takes the paper, she looks at it, she looks at it a long time. The crew oj de- pendents stiffen and get ready, the doc- tor edges quietly towards the glass of spirits of ammonia and takes it into his hand; bice gets into position to catch her if she drops, they all look tense.) LISA (Wistfully.) He did not break in the door! 75 Enter Madame {Then with sudden tenderness.) My dears, my friends, all worried about me; how lucky I am to be so blessed. Bice, Vecchia arnica! qua dammi un bacio. (Kisses her.) Dio ti benedica, vecchia buort arnica — cari tutti y thank you. There, that's enough, we need calm, strength, thought. It is not all over, oh no ! Please go — open a bottle of wine, Archimede, all drink my health." Da bravi — via coraggio! I will be alone with my son. (They all exit quietly, rather dazed with a jew broken murmurs; the only things they can think of.) (lisa left alone with her boy returns to her sad mood.) He did not break in the door. (Sits on the sofa.) JOHN (Sitting on arm of sofa.) You are an amazing woman, mother, you never do what's expected of you. 76 Act II LISA No one does what is expected of them, it is such a puzzle. They say there are great pitch black spaces between the stars, I think they are between the people too, oh quite pitch. JOHN Pitch black, darling. LISA (Absently.) Yes, pitch, very pitch. Now you are my son, and yet you do not understand me, nor I you. You stand up there, and there's blood of mine running very busy in and out of all the little veins ; there should be thoughts like me darting about the brain I gave to you — why are there not ? JOHN I grew up away from you, I confess, it's hard for me to understand you. LISA Yet you love me ? 77 Enter Madame JOHN Yes, mother, very much. LISA You love Aline? JOHN Yes, mother, very much. LISA You say the two just alike, there is not one speck of difference in the tone. You don't feel just alike? JOHN You can't go about feeling and shouting about it, you know. It isn't done. LISA (With a flash of understanding.) Ah! (Then thoughtfully.) What would you do if Aline should say to you: Go away, go away, I don't want to see your face again. 78 Act II JOHN I'd go. LISA To stay? JOHN Of course. LISA Could you live without her? JOHN Yes, if I must. LISA Monstrous ! JOHN Mother dear, do you love my father? Would you mind telling me, that is . . . LISA Mind? Why should I? It is a privilege to have a great feeling to express and why should I keep it to myself? Imagine it, 79 Enter Madame Love? Why I can sing love as no one else can. (Sings.) " Vieni, vieni, fra le mie braccia, amove, de- lizia e vita non mi sarai rapita, fin ch io, ti string 7 cor" (Rises.) What a phrase, my God, what a phrase! What a phrase! Do you realize, you cold blocks who go to the opera, the soul that we burn before you, the melody pours like incense smoke from the censers that are our hearts? JOHN Yes, but is that loving father? LISA Why, you blockhead, do you believe I think of the fat little tenor with the short neck, and his eyes full of food, when I sing that ? JOHN But what good can it do father to have you sing to him when he isn't there? 80 Act II LISA We are almost always together in the summer. Oh the romance ! I always sing it all into my music afterwards. JOHN But don't you see . . . LISA (Testily.) No, I don't see — why I love him the most beautiful way! All my heart throbs in my throat — why do you suppose the birds sing? — for a living perhaps: . . . the nightingale for a thousand a night whistles her sorrows to the moon? No, it is the necessity to express in music the great tragedy of love, — it is the dramatic soprano of the birds, the lark is the lyric, the canary is the coloratura singer. JOHN But mother . . . 6 81 Enter Madame LISA Oh, I cannot explain ... I wish I could — perhaps it is something like this . . . you know a little of electricity?, JOHN Well, I am going to be an electrical engineer one of these days. LISA It is a force — it is a force of life, hunting, hunting for a way to express itself. Some- times it finds cold blocks that it cannot move at all, that is a non-conductor, eh? Some- times it finds a way, and the rush of the force . . . JOHN . . . moves trains and ships, and lights cities? LISA {Hurriedly.) Yes, yes, I prefer the glory of the storm. 82 Act II JOHN Sheer waste. LISA Oh, I don't know about that, I only know that the storm is beautiful, moving, sublime! Now there is a force of feeling . . . hunting, hunting to express itself. JOHN The force of feeling, as you call it, lights hearths and makes homes. LISA Yes, yes, and the storm of feeling makes art ! I am a cross current ! JOHN Well, how can father enjoy life if you short circuit him all the time. . . . LISA {Struck suddenly.) I don't know, I don't know. I only know 83 Enter Madame that I am unhappy. I wander about here touching the things that belong to him. I sit here in his chair (Sits there.) and imagine that I am curled up in his lap, only the arms don't come together around me . . . they just stick out — (lisa beats the arms of the chair in a fit of childish temper; then suddenly remembers her son.) Oh, how can I make you understand — you, young, you with your quiet love and your cold science. You see, it's like a little message over you, Marconi that has got lost. Some- times one hears them weakly beating against the keys across leagues of stormy seas. S. O. S. S. O. S. Oh, give my love back to me — or I die! (john takes her in his arms.) JOHN Mother dear, I wish I could help you — can't you accept Weissman's offer? It would 84 Act II take your mind off things. Wouldn't singing help you to forget? LISA Oh, no, John dear, music vibrates in the memory. My life with Gerald is so closely woven through with song, that if they were to pluck my Gerald out, the rest would fall in little heaps of ravellings all about. Oh, I could not bear to sing. JOHN What are we to do, mother? LISA (Restlessly.) Yes. What are we to do? What are we to do? I have thought of many things. I've thought of many ways to win him back, but he's not like other men, he pricks my little bubbles — he'd say : Come off, Lisa, come off — don't act — and what am I to do? 85 Enter Madame JOHN It doesn't seem to me it's any use thinking of romance now. I'm not quite sure it would be dignified. Father's not behaved very well. LISA He's been a pig. JOHN That ' s j ust it . If you were to go on refusing to see him and to go away without a word it would be no more than he deserves. LISA Oh, no, I couldn't bear to do that. JOHN Well then, see him once, shake hands with him quietly, say that you hope he will be happy. . . . LISA I'll wear my black velvet trimmed with chincilla! . . . 86 Act II JOHN That you will think of him kindly and that you hope he will be happy. LISA You said that before. JOHN It sounds dignified. LISA But you don't have to say it twice, once will do. JOHN Well, anything you like, but . . . {Enter gerald, he stands irresolute, holding his hat.) LISA Ah! (john makes movement to get out. lisa holds him back.) John come back at eight and bring Aline. (Kisses him.) 87 Enter Madame JOHN (At door.) Good evening, sir . . . GERALD Good evening, see you soon. (Exit JOHN.) LISA Won't you — sit down? I must apologize for my costume. I have been asleep, and then John came — et — me void. . . . This is scarcely the costume for a divorcee. I must be careful now. GERALD Never mind your clothes. I broke in on you, — I . . . have been wanting to see you since that awful day. I didn't want you to go away remembering the things I said. I don't know what came over me, I think it was because you tried to make a fool of me. LISA I tried to make a fool of you ! Act II GERALD You did, you know, Lisa — you did try . . . LISA The other lady never tries to make fool of you? GERALD Oh, dear no, she hasn't the wit. LISA Oh, I don't know, a woman's wit it isn't always on the surface. GERALD It's you I want to speak of. I was so beastly about your age, as if you could help it. LISA Gerald, you know you are not my husband any more and I must have respect from men who are not my husband. GERALD Good Heavens, I don't know what I'm saying. I was so afraid you'd slip away with- 89 Enter Madame out my having another glimpse of you. You know you look exquisitely young tonight. LISA {Furiously jumping to her feet.) Again my age, but you know, Gerald, I am getting tired of my age ! {Enter archimede with a large cooked goose on a platter.) ARCHIMEDE Si po' Signora cosa ne dice, eh? Cold roast goose ! GERALD The bird of peace ! ARCHIMEDE Si Signore! Stuffed with capon, sweet breads, sausage meat, and rosemary. . . . LISA {Sniffing joyfully.) Truffles — mushrooms, macaroons, and cream. 90 Act II ARCHIMEDE All chopped ver' fine. LISA A dash of Tokay wine. GERALD Ah, frankincense and myrrh — oh dreams of Araby ! LISA I have it, I have it. GERALD What's that? LISA (Triumphantly.) You come and sup with me! GERALD By Jove ! LISA And bring the lady. 9i Enter Madame GERALD What! LISA Why not? The bird of peace — a nice cold supper. ... I have a good champagne. . . . ARCHIMEDE Bravi, bravi! LISA Can you get ready quickly? ARCHIMEDE I have a salad that is a dream of spring ! LISA Gerald — rush, get the lady! I dress — like a flash! GERALD By Jove, Lisa, you can't be beat! 92 Act II LISA You bet your life I can't be beat! Bice! Bice! (Runs to door R.) (Enter bice r.) BICE Si, Signora. . . . LISA Signor Gerald is coming to supper ! Is not that splendid! BICE (With a cry of joy.) Ah ! Grazie al cielo ! LISA And he bring the nice lady that he is to marry! BICE Oh, my God . . . Ma per eke' invitare quella donna! 93 Enter Madame LISA Sta cheta! lascia fare a me! Mi metto il . . . nuovo Paquin! Corri da brava fac- ciamo una toilette coi fiocchi ! (Runs to C.) (bice exit.) Dottore! Miss Smith, quick! quick! (Enter doctor and miss smith L. C.) (R. C. ARCHIMEDE follows with tray, table-cloth, etc.) My husband is coming to supper with the lady he loves. We have supper as soon as possible. Be darlings and help to get ready. (Exit lisa into bedroom.) DOCTOR Per baccol With joy, with joy! MISS SMITH (Stays rooted on the door-sill a second.) DOCTOR Come, come, Miss Smith, your reactions are too slow. 94 Act II MISS SMITH Oh, all right, all right. DOCTOR The great secret of speed is scientific or- ganization, efficiency. MISS SMITH Give me a sample by moving that divan into that corner. DOCTOR All right. Archimede una mano. {They move divan.) MISS SMITH Be careful. Don't jam the furniture. ARCHIMEDE It's all right, Miss Smith. It no belong to Madame anyway. MISS SMITH There's a foreigner for you. Now, move the table down a little, now the table-cloth. 95 Enter Madame My word is she going to eat off brocade again ? I should think under the circumstances she'd like to eat like a Christian. DOCTOR Oh, Miss Smith, you have not the soul of the Artist. MISS SMITH No, thank God. ARCHIMEDE (Throws napkins in places.) MISS SMITH Stop throwing things. Where do you think you are. This isn't an Italian table d'hote. (During the setting of the table lisa is heard singing off R. while dressing for supper.) ARCHIMEDE All right Miss Smith. 96 Act II MISS SMITH Oh, we have enough singing. Let's have some supper. {The table is ready. The doctor enters with two candles, placing them on the table.) LISA (OffR.) Non Scordate lo Champagne dottore. DOCTOR Di certo lo champagne. {Door-bell rings.) (bice runs to open. Enter JOHN and ALINE.) LISA {Entering.) My God, the babies! JOHN Mother, you'd already forgotten that you'd asked us to come. 7 97 Enter Madame LISA I just remember with a shock of joy. The darling children ! (Kisses them warmly.) ALINE Oh, how beautiful you are ! \ LISA You look sweet, my darling, go in to Bice ; lay your wraps aside, look in my glass with the pink lights and see how beautiful you are. (Exit aline into bedroom.) (lisa turns to john.) JOHN What a lot of places — who's coming? LISA My Gerald and Mrs. Preston. JOHN What? 98 Act II LISA I followed your advice, you say, "see him once say that you hope he will be happy." This is much better; I will make the speech to both. JOHN It's a good idea. Of course it's unconven- tional, but it's sporting and dignified. I am sorry you let Aline come. Aline should not be in on this. LISA Why not? It's such a good supper. JOHN Well, it isn't exactly the situation in which to put a young girl. LISA Mercy, John, where did you get all your beautiful propriety. JOHN Someone had to have it in this family. {Enter aline.) 99 Enter Madame ALINE Your room is so exotic I love it ! I am going to be just like you when I get married. (lisa roars with laughter.) {Enter gerald and mrs. preston.) GERALD {Introducing.) Mrs. Preston, Mme. Delia Robbia! LISA {After a pause they meet in front of table and shake hands.) Delighted. It was so good of you to come. FLORA It was charming of you to ask me. LISA Just a little family supper. You belong in the family now you know. I don't know yet just exactly what relation we are to be to one ioo Act II another, but something surely. My English is so shaky. Wives-in-law, is it not? (gerald stamps his foot angrily.) FLORA I couldn't say — what an idea LISA Well at any rate I feel sure that we should not be strangers. We have so much in com- mon now. {Enter doctor and miss smith.) My dear family, Mrs. Preston. My doctor, my secretary, of course you know the children. Mrs. Preston, you sit at the head of the table. Gerald, you next to Mrs. Pres- ton — of course. Aline there, Miss Smith here. John on the other side of Mrs. Preston ; and Dottore near me. It is not a well bal- anced dinner party, it would never do in a storm, but perhaps it will sail successfully in these calm and sunny seas. (bice and archimede serve the supper.) 1 01 Enter Madame GERALD Truffles, by Jove, you know. Truffles don't taste like anything as they cook them on this side. ARCHIMEDE Those truffles come from my farm in Tus- cany. Radames and I hunt for them last June, he with his nose and I with my stick to hit him over the head whenever he find a truffle; he loves truffles, that Radames. FLORA Mercy, who's Radames, your son? ARCHIMEDE No, my pig, Madame, a great hunter of truffles. FLORA What a strange name for a pig. ARCHIMEDE Why not Madame? He enjoys it, poor fellow, it gives him style before the other pigs. 102 Act II My cow I name Aida, my ox Don Bartolo — they are all ver' pleased. GERALD So you will retire to your farm when you get old? ARCHIMEDE Oh, well, some day! I am young yet! GERALD By Jove, doctor, that reminds me, why aren't you in Rimini? I thought you had bought a little practice there and had gone to settle down for the rest of your life? DOCTOR Oh, yes, I did leave Madame two years ago, the last time you and Madame were together in Viareggio. I had the rheumatism and I got the home sickness. I run down to Rimini where is my old sister. Her husband is dead, her daughter is married. So she say, why you run all around the world in your rheumatism? Stay here, I cook for you. So I stay. 103 Enter Madame GERALD Well, weren't you happy? DOCTOR Oh, yes, the people are healthy in Rimini. I have little to do. My sister cook well, my rheumatism go. GERALD Well, why didn't you stay? DOCTOR Well, I tell you. An opera company come to Rimini and they give La Forza del Destino, I go. The soprano is a cow. I beat my head against the seat in front and I yell: No! no! no! non e cosi che si dice corpo di Bacco! And I run out. Imagine I hear Bartelozzi in Milan LISA Oh, Bartelozzi. DOCTOR Of course she does not compare with Madame but she is a very good dramatic. 104 Act II BICE Ma che — la Bartelozzi non sa cantare. DOCTOR Come non sa cantare. ARCHIMEDE Se parlasse delta Cantini. . . . BICE Ma die! la Cantini — canta come una cag- netta scorticata. (There is a general uproar.) DOCTOR Ma tu trovi a ridire di tuttel la Bartelozzi e una grande artista. GERALD (Goes to archimede and pulls him away. After quieting them all, he resumes his place at table.) Ah si quello e vero grande artista. I've heard her in lots of things. She sings Valen- tina in the Huguenots magnificently you know. 105 Enter Madame DOCTOR Ecco! II Signor Geraldo, he say so too and he is a connoisseur in the aria with the tenor ; what a beauty ! Scusateme, I will play it for you. ARCHIMEDE I get my flute. LISA Yes, yes, Archimede, get the flute. (archimede exits and enters with flute. Goes to piano and plays.) GERALD {Goes to lisa, listens to music; almost involuntarily he takes her in his arms and kisses her; just as abruptly he releases her as flora gasps in her fury.) BICE {Interrupting music.) Gia — just what I say. {Imitates the exaggerated sentimentality of the interpretation.) 1 06 Act II So sentimental and languid — it make your stockings fall down. {They all return to their places at the table.) (archimede exits.) LISA Bice, per V amor di Dio, ti Scordi davanti alia sposa Americana! BICE Madonna mial GERALD Pass the salad ! Have some salad, Flora? FLORA Thank you, not any more. GERALD Oh — so you left Rimini, doctor? DOCTOR Yes, the music is in the blood worse than the rheumatism, it make me suffer more; and 107 Enter Madame the memories stab my heart a hundred times a day; — and pictures of the past come up quickly in idle moments. A great life of pictures — we lead — I could not stand to give pills and powders — Madame took me back and here I am. GERALD A great life of pictures. DOCTOR Well, Signor Gerald, this is the last of the jolly little suppers. GERALD Your health, doctor. DOCTOR We have drink the health together in every corner of the globe. Cairo, Petrograd, Buenos Ayres, Milan — it was not a bad little life. GERALD Yes, it was a good little life while it lasted. 108 Act II FLORA Madame Delia Robbia, I hear you are to be married again ? LISA (Surprised.) JOHN What's that mother, you never mentioned it to me. Now that father's gone you ought to advise with me you know. GERALD Dash it all, don't you talk as if I were dead. FLORA Gerald told me of your wonderful romance with a poet. I understood him to say you were engaged! JOHN Why mother! 109 Enter Madame LISA I haven't the faintest idea of what you are talking about! (The telephone rings.) Miss Smith, will you answer that ? MISS SMITH (At phone.) Hello . . . yes, this is her secretary . . . Oh, no, we haven't decided yet — you see Madame has been so busy — oh, the steamer starts tomorrow? — well, then it's too late — we couldn't possibly be off so quickly. LISA Who is that? MISS SMITH It's Weissman, he says this is his last chance, that the Vasari leaves for Buenos Ayres to- morrow. He wants to know if you won't sign that contract. He's secured passage on the chance that you'll decide to go. (Into phone.) Yes — wait a minute. Heavens he's weeping. no Act II LISA {Suddenly.) We go to Buenos Ayres tomorrow. MISS SMITH But the boat leaves at one. LISA We go at one tomorrow. MISS SMITH {To LISA.) Do you really mean it, Madame? LISA Yes, I mean it. MISS SMITH {Into phone.) Yes, madame will be there. Yes, parole d'honneur — go ahead and make the arrange- ments. Oh, all right, all right. LISA {On her feet — raising her glass.) Brindisi! To life, that outruns Chance and in Enter Madame Love and Death ! To Life the Winner of the Race! GERALD he morituri Salutamus! LISA Ah la! la! not so! Brindisi! to my husband and his wife ! JOHN {Raising his glass.) To my wonderful mother! GERALD (Rises.) Let's get Archimede in and have the anvil chorus for the last time. FLORA Dear me, I feel as if I were at a funeral, with all these last rites. GERALD Oh I don't mean the Miserere! just the anvil chorus — Archimede makes a ripping 112 To Life, that outruns Chance and Love and Death! To Life, the winner of the race! " Act II noise \ Archimede you old scoundrel come here. BICE (Running to door.) Vieni, Archimede. GERALD Are you in voice, Bice? Bice's got a grand voice, wait till you hear her. (Enter archimede.) Here, Archimede, old boy, have a liqueur — and you too, Bice. Everybody — raise glasses ! To the virtuoso of the gas range our noble Archimede ! EVERYONE Bravo! Viva! GERALD To our Bice ! Long may her tongue wag ! EVERYONE Viva! 8 113 Enter Madame GERALD To life. May its memories be gentle, its actualities charming, its anticipations keen. LISA The anvil chorus then {They all sing it together — all except flora, knocking on the glasses and plates and bottles for the noise of the anvils. The old song, the old memories sadden lisa, she cannot join, gerald sees it.) GERALD Stop, stop ! We are not in voice tonight. DOCTOR I always suffer from catarrah in this coun- try of yours. (Rising.) Now Madame, I hope you will excuse me, it is getting late and if we leave tomorrow there is much I must do. 114 Act II LISA Buona nolle, Doltore. DOCTOR Buona nolle, Signora. GERALD Hope to see you again doctor. DOCTOR Oh, without a doubt — goodnight, Signor Giovanni ! . (Down C. to john.) You will be a married man the next time we meet. Goodnight, Ladies. {Exits bowing.) MISS SMITH I'll go finish those letters, Madame, and ar- range for tomorrow. Goodnight, goodnight. {Exit.) JOHN {Rises and goes to lisa.) It's getting awfully late for Aline to be up. ii5 Enter Madame I better take her home — do you want me to come back here afterwards? Do you need me? LISA No, my darling, but come tomorrow and bring Aline. I may need you then (As they are talking bice and archi- mede move the chairs back, clear the dishes, and put the room in order. They, however, according to foreign custom leave the glasses and bottles of wine on the table.) JOHN Come Aline, put your things on — it's awfully late. ALINE No, it's not late, Johnnie, surely you aren't going to (Coming down C. to front of table to meet LISA.) leave your mother so early on her last night? 116 Act II LISA He brings you again tomorrow, dear baby. He shall bring you early, very well ! at dawn — come at eleven o'clock John! Bice, bring Aline's cloak! I shall be back here for your wedding my little swallow. I shall help you to build your little nest. In the meantime, wear this necklace for me — the pearls seem a little dull — that is because I am not always hap- py — pearls are like that — on your breast they will soon shine again. To think I shall be your mother so soon ! GERALD Oh, they are awfully young, Lisa! It's too soon to talk that way ! LISA I am not sure, Gerald, perhaps if they grow up together, they will grow like a tree into one strong stem that cannot be divided. GERALD (Rises.) Well, it's not a bad idea, a tree can't pick 117 Enter Madame up its roots and take the next steamer to South America — or the first damned place that comes into its head. FLORA Gerald! LISA Goodbye, children, until tomorrow. . . . JOHN Goodnight, father. GERALD See here, when are you going back to college? JOHN As soon as mother's gone. GERALD See that you go back tomorrow. You've loafed long enough. 118 Act II JOHN All right, sir — goodnight. {Exit with aline and bice following.) GERALD Damn slacker. LISA I am glad to see him play a little, he is sucn an old sober sides. GERALD Puts on airs, needs taking down a peg or two, the young cub. LISA Don't let him work too hard, Gerald. GERALD I'd like to talk to you about him, and — and . . . other things as well, why the deuce must you run down to Buenos Ayres ! LISA Why not ! I shall earn a lot of money there, you know. 119 Enter Madame GERALD You know I haven't had a chance to talk business to you. You wouldn't let my lawyer doit. LISA And I will not let you do it either, Gerald. I cannot talk business to any one. It is too depressing. Look at poor Flora! We must talk to Flora. GERALD I'll take Flora away and come back for a chat with you. I can't let you go like this and you've been so unreasonable all this time! Wouldn't see me and all that. LISA I will not talk of business, Gerald. GERALD Well, then, there's John — John and Aline! how's that? Just half an hour or so — you can't refuse me that, can you? I20 Act II LISA Will Flora mind, perhaps? (flora has been wandering restlessly around the room — hearing this she stops.) FLORA {Down R. at end of table.) You want to talk to Gerald, do you ? Why of course. LISA (At L. end of table.) Gerald wants to talk to me. FLORA Oh, why naturally. GERALD Let me take you home first. FLORA (Going to lisa to offer her hand.) Oh, no, how absurd, it's only down stairs! Goodnight, Madame Delia Robbia — such an 121 Enter Madame unusual evening! I am really very grateful to you for it. I've never seen anything to equal it in all my life — quite extraordinary. LISA Is it really so extraordinary ! Perhaps you think me extraordinary ? FLORA Oh dear me yes, but I suppose you have to be like that, if you were not, people wouldn't pay so much money to see you on the stage. You must give them something different to look at I dare say. LISA You know, it's very puzzling ! To myself I seem quite simple. FLORA Perhaps it comes from throwing yourself into every part you are doing. You throw yourself out of joint as it were and end by not knowing how to behave at all. However, I 122 Act II am delighted to have met you. I understand Gerald so much better now. I am glad to have had this glimpse into your vivid domes- tic atmosphere, you are so very original, Madame Delia Robbia, I daresay you make a business of that. But you have behaved most becomingly on the whole. Really amazingly well. LISA {Meekly.) Oh, thank you, so much ! FLORA The situation might have been very un- pleasant. Two women squabbling over a man you know, — oh, dreadful! Instead it's been only the question of righting something that had been wrong for many years. Now it's over, would you mind kissing me ? (gerald, who has been walking nervously up and down the hallway up C, enters in time to see them kiss and leaves the room hurriedly.) 123 Enter Madame LISA Delighted! Are we not wives-in-law? {They kiss strenuously.) FLORA Men are such helpless creatures, that we women must take these things into our own hands. There it's all over, what a relief, aren't you relieved ? LISA Tremendously. GERALD {Entering again.) Flora are you coming ? FLORA Yes Gerald darling. {Going slowly up with LISA to exit door where gerald is waiting to show her out.) Of course we won't be likely to meet in the future. 124 Act II LISA I am afraid not. FLORA In the meantime I'll leave him in your care. LISA Oh, so good of you to trust me. FLORA Don't let him tire you. Send him home soon ! Goodnight ! LISA Goodnight, goodnight. (flora and gerald exit, lisa hurries to piano, powders her face ready for battle, gerald enters thoughtfully.) GERALD (Coming down C.) Perhaps I am intruding, taking your time. 125 Enter Madame LISA Oh, dear me no. I am a bird of the night you know. GERALD (Both sit in front of table.) A nightingale. LISA Of course. GERALD Lisa, I don't want you to change your way of living, I always want to be quite at your service financially, you know. LISA Oh, money, Gerald, I haven't thought of it for years. GERALD That's right, just go on not thinking of it. When your money gives out, send the bills to me. 126 Act II LISA Of course you know that I will not do that; now — let's talk about John. GERALD John's all right. I don't think that children are the absorbing topic of discussion between parents, that they are supposed to be. You and I never discussed John much in our life. LISA He didn't seem to need it. There's been very little that we could do for him. He's so healthy, self-reliant. It seems to me now on looking back that I have often worried about you, never about him and yet oh I love him. GERALD I know how you feel, the little nuisance even refused to have the measles. John never did his duty by us really. I was always hoping he'd get into some mess or other as he grew up. If it hadn't been for you . . . well, God knows you did your best. . . .' 127 Enter Madame LISA Yes, I know. I have been irritating, selfish, I have never given you comfort, you've lived in the tents of the Arabs long enough, I don't blame you for wanting to leave them. GERALD Let me take care of you in the future. LISA No Gerald, I can't do that. GERALD Lisa dear, don't you know that it's dangerous to take away all the trouble of a person at once? A man can't stop smoking, or taking a drug all at once. He has to do it gradually — well it's same thing with trouble. LISA Perhaps Flora will have some nice new ones. GERALD No hope of that. The great silence will 128 Act II close over me. People will go about saying the same things, making the same gestures. Peace, three meals . . . LISA {Hopefully.) In America there are beautiful servant troubles ! GERALD No, Tamamoto is back with me — so there's no hope in that direction. Let me pay your bills! LISA {Smilingly.) Not a bill. GERALD {Rises.) Lisa, you only do that to be irritating and contrary. Every time I think of something for my happiness it is always the one thing you refuse me. 9 129 Enter Madame LISA Now it is my fault again! . . . Gerald, you know I have not forgot what you said to me the first day I came back — that I had been only a magnificent mistress to you. . . . GERALD (Sits again.) Oh, Lisa, I would give anything to wipe out the words I said that day . . . it's always so when we get together — you drive me to it, I always say things I don't mean. LISA The trouble is that there is always just enough truth in them. GERALD No' truth at all, — I'd smash any man who dared to ... I can't imagine what made me . . . Gad, I know, I remember now. It was that damned poet you were going to marry. What's become of him, Lisa? . . . 130 Act II LISA There is no one! There never has been any one. Is there anything else you wish to talk about? GERALD No, no, I suppose not. (Music of flute and piano heard off stage.) (Telephone rings, lisa goes to it.) What's that music, Lisa? LISA It's Archimede and the Doctor. Alio, alio, oh Flora, yes Flora he is still here, — you want him? At once, you shall have him. (Comes down to front of table.) GERALD (At phone.) Yes, Flora, what is it? We're getting along nicely. These things take time you know. Yes. I'll see that I get plenty of sleep. I'm not made of cotton wool. Yes, in the morning. 131 Enter Madame What? At ten o'clock? Yes, I'll be there promptly. All right, you can expect me. What? Yes, I am just off now. Goodnight, goodnight. (Rings off.) GERALD (Goes slowly to lis A.) I must go now, Lisa. I scarcely know you in this mood; no tricks; no florid speeches; no poetry ; perhaps you are glad to get rid of me. Haven't you anything to say? LISA No. GERALD Goodbye then, goodbye romance, youth, adventure; as wayward as my thoughts, as graceful as my dreams, as changeable as my desires ; a butterfly with wonderful wings, but with emotion instead of a heart. LISA Ah ! How dare you, how dare you say such things to me. 132 Act II GERALD I know, I have no right to say such things to you, yet they are true. You know that they are true. LISA Oh, no. You have said it yourself. As wayward as my thoughts, as changeable as my desires, I was what you wished me to be. I was taught young that my duty was to please and to win applause. An interpreter, that is what I am, that is all you wished me to be. You could have made of me what you wished. Oh, why didn't you try? And now you blame me. (Lays her head on Gerald's breast, sobbing.) GERALD Darling, I don't blame you, I blame myself. LISA Yet you punish me, for being just me ! 133 Enter Madame GERALD How was I to know! I am a blundering ass. {Phone rings — angrily goes to door up c.) Stop that damned noise ! {Music stops.) LISA {Goes to phone.) Alio! alio! {Quickly lays down receiver and shouts.) It is she again. {Goes down R.) GERALD {Yells into phone.) Hello! Hello! What — yes I know you're not deaf! I beg pardon . . . what is it? I know it's late. You ought to be in bed. Of course I'm thinking of you — what's that? Nonsense, Flora. After all I'm alone with my own wife. (lisa crosses left, gleefully.) 134 Act II Well, what's wrong with that? It's true isn't it? Oh, by Jove, I'd forgotten — honest I had — yes . . . yes, I'll go. Well I can't go till you hang up the receiver, can I? Oh rubbish. Goodnight. (Hangs up.) LISA Poor Flora, how old she is ! GERALD I am a year or two older than Flora. LISA , Oh, no we are young, you and I Gerald, young! because we still have imagination, illusion, because we still see people as they are not ! That is the secret of youth. Yet the world insists upon imposing age upon us, because it is respectable. We are the hope of the world if they only knew. The irrecon- cilables. But now once more the world has won and you are going to join the great phalanx of the old ! 135 Enter Madame GERALD The hell I am ; come here you imp of Satan, I'll show you how old I am. LISA (Runs upstage and around to front of piano.) The great god Pan is dead. GERALD (Takes her in his arms.) Oh, Lisa, listen to me. Say you love me, say you love me. What are we to do? What can we do ? LISA (Her arms around his neck.) Ah, Gerald, Gerald; I don't know, I can't help you. GERALD (Holding her desperately.) Say it isn't too late, say it isn't too late! 136 Act II LISA I seem to hear the sands rushing out, it is almost too late. (The phone rings. gerald turns angrily towards it. lisa slips into the bedroom, and leaves the door ajar. The phone rings like mad. gerald grabs his hat in a panic. Then looks at the bedroom door, has an idea, looks at the phone, hesitates, finally makes up his mind y throws down his hat, lifts the receiver gently off, lays it on the table, goes softly into the bed- room and shuts the door.) (Enter bice from back with a glass and a small carafe of water on a tray. She sees Gerald's hat, looks at bedroom door, then quietly without fuss, she puts another glass on the tray and knocks gently on the bedroom door, as the curtain comes down.) CURTAIN 137 ACT III It is morning — a nice frosty sunny morning. A small table is prepared for breakfast in front of the fireplace. It is carefully laid with a lace cloth — a low bouquet of orange blossoms in the middle of the table. A profusion of white flowers is scattered all about the room. bice and archimede are tiptoeing about arranging everything, wreathed in happy smiles, talking in a careful undertone, bice has white satin bows in her cap, white lace apron ornamented with bows, with sprigs of orange blossoms in her corsage, archimede is freshly starched and has a large white bow with orange blossoms on his breast. BICE {Speaks with elation.) Ecco finito. . . . ARCHIMEDE Grazioso come un nido di colombe! 138 Act HI {Starts to sing in a soft undertone after few bars; bice joins him and they sing the first verse of a popular love song, in as low a voice as possible, but with great glee:) . " Vamore e una catena Uamore e una catena, Uamore eu una catena Che non si spezza E se si spezza Olil OH! Ola! Se si spezza mamma, nia La si po raccomeda La, la la, la, la la, la, la, etc." {They both dance around the room.) {Enter miss smith with hat and coat — she comes from outdoors.) MISS SMITH My word, what is the matter with the two of you? Isn't Madame up yet? I've done a dozen errands. I've had a talk with Weiss- man. She can't loiter over breakfast this 139 Enter Madame morning, it's nearly half past ten, and you two losing time like this. What are all the flowers for? What is the matter with you? Of all the irresponsible crew ! Why don't you call Madame, Bice, you've got to get an early start with the packing. BICE {Romantically.) Ah, mademoiselle, you do it. I haven't the heart. . . . MISS SMITH What in the world . . . ARCHIMEDE Cannot Mademoiselle guess, it is in the air. . . . BICE You can hear the whirring wings of the little loves if you will listen. MISS SMITH I think you've both gone mad ! 140 Act HI BICE The perfume of the orange blossoms — does it not suggest something to you ? MISS SMITH It certainly suggests that you should open the window — it makes the room very close- I'll knock up Madame. (bice and archimede run after her.) BOTH My God! No! MISS SMITH {Stopping at the door.) Why not? BICE {Beckons her away.) Come back, come back, and don't touch the door. . . . (miss smith walks away puzzled at the frantic gestures of the others.) 141 Enter Madame MISS SMITH What's happened? BICE (Whispering.) Signor Gerald . . . sh ! sh ! sh ! (miss s. looks from one to the other — they continue gesticulating frantically.) miss smith You mean? You don't mean! . . . Mr. Fitzgerald is . . . my word ! BICE No more unhappiness for my Signora. ARCHIMEDE And such dinners ! MISS SMITH (Who has got her breath.) You are a pair of renegades — I've stood a good deal from Mme. Delia Robbia first and last, but — well! this sort of thing never 142 Act HI happened before — this is too much. My word ! BICE What is it that makes you so shocked? Is it not her husband? MISS SMITH Her husband . . . he's not her husband any more is he? If he is, he's committing bigamy or something. T'isn't legal, I tell you. {Enter doctor.) DOCTOR {Seeing the flowers.) Ah, very nice, good idea — very charming ! MISS SMITH Doctor, what shall we do? Do you know what's happened? DOCTOR Well I can guess ... do I not smell the orange blossoms, charming idea Bice. Come 143 Enter Madame Miss Smith — your morality will suffer ner- vous prostration if you are not careful. She's a wonderful woman, Madame. Let us run or they will catch us. . . . MISS SMITH What about South America? DOCTOR Leave that to Madame. . . . MISS SMITH But the boat leaves at one ! DOCTOR Leave everything to Madame. She's a great general ! BICE Quick, quick they come. (The doctor and miss smith run out. bice and archimede are up C.) GERALD (Entering from off R.) Good-morning, everybody. [He is in high good spirits.) 144 Act III BICE Good-morning, ver' happy to see you again. ARCHIMEDE Ver' happy, ver* happy ! (Runs off.) GERALD Well, well, Bice, orange blossoms n' every- thing, eh? BICE Si Signore, my prayers have been answered, and we are all content. GERALD You're a good soul, Bice. (Enter lisa in an adorable negligee.) LISA Buon giorno, Bice. GERALD (Sings*) Ah! Bella figlia dell amore ! 145 Enter Madame j LISA My Gerald ! you grow musical. GERALD Why not? You look lovely enough to drag a song out of a hippo. Doesn't she, Bice? BICE My Signora is happy at last! The saints be blessed! (lisa sits at table opposite gerald.) GERALD How will you like settling down in America, Bice? BICE Eh, what is? LISA {Pours coffee which bice passes to GERALD.) Yes, Bice, no more opera. I have decided firmly! From today, you and me, we raise chickens. 146 Act HI GERALD Ah, well, not quite that, but Mrs. Fitz- gerald and I will spend part of our time in the country down at Bellmore. You re- member our place at Bellmore, Bice, don't you? LISA v The big garden, the wide house with the chimney that is always smoking; it used to remind me of a very fat lady squatting in a meadow, smoking a pipe, too lazy to move. GERALD And the peace Bice ... oh the peace ! LISA The orchestra of the crickets ! Like — a far away rendition of Richard Strauss ' BICE (With distaste.) Oh la! la! 147 Enter Madame LISA Oh, yes Bice, and the brasses are the frogs. . . . {Imitates.) Ra! Ra! Ra! Ra! Beautiful!! Wonderful!! BICE We do not go to South America then? % LISA Certainly not ! Of course not ! GERALD Certainly not, what an idea. Never heard of the place. I'm going to make a farmerette of Lisa. LISA I shall wear what they call — over-all — that is trousers ! So free for the country. . . . BICE Like Cherubino in Le Nozze di Figaro! 148 Act III LISA A good idea! You remember Gerald, how pretty I look as Cherubino in Le Nozze di Figaro! GERALD Oh, ripping, darling, ripping ! But what will John say to all this? (Rises, goes around arm-chair to lisa.) LISA Oh, Johnnie I forgot. . . . (bice goes out.) GERALD (Tenderly.) Never mind you shall wear what you like only promise me that you'll never leave me again. Promise me that ! LISA On my soul ! Henceforward I shall be like the shadow that the sun casts now to the 149 Enter Madame east, now to the west, but always close beside you. GERALD My Lisa! LISA Into your dear hands I place my life. I have no strength, no will, but yours. My Gerald. GERALD My wife, my beloved wife! Of course I don't expect you to give up everything at once, I don't mind you singing at a few per- formances at the Metropolitan for instance. (Kisses her and goes down L.) LISA And at Co vent Garden. Just once in a while. GERALD Well, yes — once in a great while, all right. LISA And at Milan, they would never forgive 150 Act III you if you didn't occasionally let me give them Delilah or Orpheus and oh, how they adore my Carmen! Just occasionally, is it not so — my Gerald. . . . GERALD {Much disturbed.) Now look here, let's get this settled. You'll be off again before I know it ! LISA {Quickly — rises and goes to gerald.) Oh no ! no ! Not unless you wish, only when you wish . . . perhaps never {Door -bell rings.) (gerald goes up to door.) BICE {Passing along corridor at back going toward the door.) I think it is the boy with the letters. {Noise of colloquy is heard at back — voices of mrs. preston and bice.) 151 Enter Madame BICE Madame is not dress. . . . FLORA It doesn't matter — that will do. . . . BICE But you cannot come in. FLORA I'd like to know who's going to keep me out! (bice backs toward door trying to stem the tide, lisa and gerald try to get away, but the panic has held them still in their places too long and they are caught.) That will do thank you. I can announce myself — good- morning ! {Down C.) GERALD (With bluff heartiness.) Good-morning, Flora, good-morning ! Won't you sit down? 152 Act III FLORA No thank you! My stay will be a very short one, I simply wanted to make sure {She withers them with a glance. Ger- ald quails under it; lisa smiles triumphantly.) {Then to gerald.) You didn't answer the telephone last night. . . . GERALD I answered it three or four times. FLORA You know what I mean perfectly well. I tried to reach you for hours. Finally the operator told me the receiver was off. GERALD It must have fallen off. FLORA Don't interrupt! Do you think I am a fool? Your behaviour to me has been simply 153 Enter Madame scandalous. Well, what excuse have you to offer? (gerald stands in front of her like a naughty child.) I only wish my dear husband was alive, he'd deal with you properly. As it is I've put my affairs in the hands of my lawyers. They will call upon you and this lady who is not your wife. You cannot trifle with my reputation and social position, and put me on a level with a common opera singer. GERALD Now Mrs. Preston . . . FLORA Keep still, or it will go worse with you. And please remember that agreement about a settlement — I shall expect one and don't forget it. There's such a thing as law and public opinion. They'll be on my side and they'll make you pay. Oh, don't imagine that you've broken my heart. It's much better this way. Do you think any woman would 154 Act III want you if it weren't that you are wealthy and can provide a good establishment? What do you suppose this woman wants of you except to pay her disgraceful debts and to cover her liasons with dukes and princes and what not ! GERALD Now Mrs. Preston. Confine your remarks to me, please. FLORA {Hysterically.) Oh, I'm not through with you yet. You — you — libertine, — with your talk of home and carpet slippers. I won't have to take care of you now in your stuffy old age, but you'll see to it that my nest is feathered or I'll know the reason why! Oh I'm not through with you yet. Oh! no! you wait! You just wait! Good-day to you both ! GERALD Phew! What a woman! 155 Enter Madame LISA (Recovering. Going up C.) How dare she, how dare she come into our house and talk so, and I — I couldn't answer back. GERALD (Sitting by table.) No, for the first time in your life darling. (Laughs.) LISA It is as if she were the wife. I should have said to her : ' ' Are you the wife ? ' ' GERALD Darling, you seem to forget that we are divorced, you and I. . . . LISA Yes, and whose fault is it ? It is hers ! I should have said to her : ' ' You come here and 156 Act III you steal my husband, and then you dare . . . you dare ..." (She turns and suddenly runs toward the door to catch mrs. preston and to say all the precious things to her face.) GERALD (Catches her and holds her in his arms.) Come back here. There, darling, there, never mind her. I'll pay the piper — it's worth it, just to have you back in my arms. We must get married now just as soon as possible. LISA (Absently.) Yes, (Then intensely.) but think — think of all the things I could have said to her! GERALD (Amused.) Yes, dear, I know all the things you could 157 Enter Madame have said to her. I'm glad you didn't say them. After all she's been handed a pretty rough deal; now let's forget her. (Door -bell rings.) LISA (john's voice is heard of stage.) Oh ! oh, it's John — I forget. GERALD Don't let him in. He mustn't see me in these clothes. (Rushes of R.) john and ALINE (Enter john and aline.) Hello, mother, is father here already? (lisa meets her son and aline at the door to give gerald a chance to escape.) LISA Hello, darling, yes, yes, he's here. 158 Act III JOHN Say what's happened now ? As I came into the lobby a reporter came up to me and asked if I was your son ; he asked where father was . I said I didn't know, he seemed awfully pleased about something. Mrs. Preston was down there talking to a group of men, they all turned and looked at us. I heard her say as I passed 1 ' You'd better go and find out for yourselves. ' ' {There's a ring at the phone.) LISA I'll answer. I better answer. {At phone.) Alio ! Yes, it's me, who wants ... I cannot receive at this hour. Impossible! What! No I have not, I have no story for the press. Mr. Fitzgerald is not here. . . . How dare you . . . what business is it of yours. How dare you . . . how dare you . . . how dare you . . . {There's a ring at the door-bell, bice passes to answer.) 159 Enter Madame GERALD (Rushes from room off R. to door up centre.) Bice, don't let them in. (70 LISA.) Flora has loosed the whole of the yellow press on us! LISA (Into phone.) How dare you ! I will call the police. I'll call the police. GERALD (Rushing down to her.) Lisa for God's sake don't talk like that to them. (lisa rings off.) JOHN (Who for the first time sees his father's clothes.) Father, what are you doing in your evening clothes? 1 60 Act HI GERALD (Walking hurriedly about stage.) I wear them all the time now — they are more becoming. JOHN I say! What do you mean by that? GERALD Ah, mind your own business. (Ring at the bell.) JOHN Look here sir, this is my business. (Phone rings.) GERALD Lisa, don't answer it. JOHN What do those men downstairs want? What is all this? What are you doing in evening dress at this time in the morning? (Then suddenly the truth bursts in upon him. Indignantly:) Oh! Oh! 11 161 Enter Madame GERALD Keep still, keep still and let me think. JOHN Oh! Oh! Good gracious. GERALD ( Yelling.) Bice, get Archimede to answer the door, tell those men to go away. JOHN Oh! Oh! (Walks up and down.) GERALD You idiot, stop saying " oh. " Make yourself useful. JOHN We are disgraced ! Oh ! Oh ! GERALD Shut up! {Phone rings — bell rings.) (Enter archimede.) 162 Act III GERALD (QfiC.) Archimede take a rolling pin and go out there and persuade those men to leave. If they won't, carve them up. ARCHIMEDE Si Signore. GERALD Tell them there's no one here. (Phone rings.) JOHN You sir, go down to your club where you belong. You've no business here. GERALD Listen to him. LIZA John don't talk so to your father. JOHN Aline, you go by the back door, and run home — this is no place for you 163 Enter Madame ALINE But Johnnie, what is the matter with everybody? {Phone rings.) GERALD John answer that phone. Tell them to shut up. JOHN I won't unless you leave this house at once. GERALD If you say that again I'll thrash you within an inch of your life. JOHN No you won't — no you won't. And I will say it again ! {Phone rings, gerald seizes john and pushes him toward the phone.) Answer that phone ! LISA {Rushing to the rescue.) Answer it. Johnnie darling, please! For 164 Act III my sake, be careful what you say to them. My publicity depends upon them. JOHN (At phone.) Hello. Yes. Well, it's all a misunder- standing. I am her son. Yes . . . it's wrong, you've got it all wrong. . . . Well — well— Mrs. Preston is wrong— she— she- she's joking! GERALD You infernal idiot ! JOHN Well— what am I to say? (Into phone.) No, Madame Delia Robbia will see no one. LISA Now, Johnnie go down and tell them — tell them— oh, tell them anything but get them away. (Altercation is heard at the door.) 165 Enter Madame ARCHIMEDE Madame is alone with her son. She'll see no one. (Bangs door.) JOHN Bice, show Aline out the back door will you ? (bice takes aline away.) (john faces his parents furiously.) Now look here — you two. LISA (Phone rings.) Oh Johnnie, go down and tell them any- thing, only get them away. I'm going mad. JOHN First send father away — it isn't proper! LISA (An idea.) Gerald ! I know what we'll do, we'll go to South America ! GERALD Right, you're on. 1 66 Act III JOHN {Dramatically.) Stop ! Listen ! GERALD Stop, look, listen ! That's the way it goes, Johnnie. JOHN I'm serious! I was never more serious in all my life. GERALD Good Lord! LISA Quiet — Gerald ! JOHN You aren't married! Don't you remember you were divorced yesterday? LISA Oh, oh yes, I forgot. We both forgot. {Phone rings.) Oh John, tell them you are coming down to them! 167 Enter Madame JOHN I will if you promise to do just as I say. (gerald motions her to say yes.) {Phone rings.) LISA We'll do anything you want. JOHN {At phone.) Stop this noise. I am coming down to you. Yes this is Mr. Fitzgerald. I am coming. {Rings off.) {Turns to parents.) Now you'll do as I say. I've stood enough from you. You're an awful responsibility. GERALD {Loudly.) All right. Keep your voice down. Don't shout ! JOHN {Furiously.) Will you answer me one question? 1 68 Act III GERALD Certainly. JOHN Did I ask to be born? Did I ask to be born? Answer me that. GERALD {In a fit of laughter falls into the arm- chair, then recuperating:) Why, we gave you the gift of life. JOHN Oh, that's no good. That won't work now- adays. You tell me if it's right to treat me like this, when I never asked to be born. I didn't choose you to be my parents, God knows, but I've got to put up with you and you've got to put up with me. You can't go on living as if I weren't here. You've got to think of me, and of my future, and of the dignity of the family {Goes threateningly to gerald.) The dignity of the family, do you hear? 169 Enter Madame LISA Yes, yes, Johnnie, you are right. Now if you will go down and get those wicked re- porters away, — I promise that we will do anything you want, anything at all. GERALD There now. JOHN First I want to see father leave this house. LISA But he can't, at the door there are men. JOHN Well, he can go by the back door. LISA (Soothingly.) All right, Gerald, go by the back door, go by the back door. GERALD Well— I'll be . . . (Exits off R.) 170 Act III LISA There — there ... he is gone — Now you go down and save the family honour! The family honour, it rests with you ! JOHN All right, I will (Goes.) ( You hear his voice outside) Here I am gentlemen — I can explain every- thing to you. (Outside — door closes.) (lisa rushes to bedroom door.) LISA Gerald — Gerald — come, — I know, I know what we will do ! GERALD What darling? LISA We will elope to South America 1 GERALD Right you are. Can we make it? 171 Enter Madame LISA I'll send Miss Smith to Weissman. They will keep the steamer waiting as long as possible. We run with only a few things. The rest of the baggage follow later. GERALD All right, dear, you see Miss Smith, I won't be long. {Exits R.) LISA Miss Smith — Bice ! Come I want you. (lisa runs off stage at C.) {Enter tamamoto from back with a suit- case.) GERALD {Enters looking for his hat and comes face to face with tamamoto.) Tamamoto ! — how did you know I was here ? TAMAMOTO I know. I deduct. 172 Act III GERALD {Throwing his hat on the table.) You deduct! Japan will rule the world some day ; come here with that bag, hurry ! (Goes into bedroom with tamamoto.) LISA (Entering with bice. The doctor and archimede follow with portman- teaux.) Come Bice, Archimede, Dottore, you know what you have to do. (Rushes into bedroom with bice, archi- mede and the doctor begin packing the things that had been unpacked in Act I.) DOCTOR We must make the ship in twenty minutes, quick Archimede ! BICE (Reappearing.) Where is the rouge? ... Ah . . . eccolol eccolol . . . Presto, presto. 173 Enter Madame DOCTOR Non lo so — non lo so. . . . LISA {Entering half dressed.) My attar of roses ... I cannot elope without my attar of roses ! BICE Eccolo, eccolof (lisa rushes into bedroom.) DOCTOR Oh — Madonna mia — what a life ! ARCHIMEDE Viva la Baldoria! Dottore, we go to Bue- nos Ayres, eh? DOCTOR Yes ! yes ! ARCHIMEDE Do you remember my Carmencita, the girl that was ballerina at the opera? 174 Act III DOCTOR Why should I remember? Perhaps you have a reason. ARCHIMEDE Oh, la la! Let me see {Consulting address-book.) Amsterdam, Antwerp, — Bologna, Buenos Ayres. There! Ah, no! she is not my Car- mencita — she is my Dolores, oh la! la! she's my best girl ! DOCTOR {Seizes screen and small portmanteau. archimede follows with a hamper and they rush off. lis A enters in the same hat and coat she wore in the first act. She carries a small dog in her arms, gerald follows wrapped in a large overcoat, bice loaded down with hand luggage and tamamoto carry- ing a suitcase and a parrot cage close the procession.) 175 Enter Madame LISA {Triumphantly.) We go! We go! GERALD Hurry Tamamoto, Bice. LISA {Happily.) Now we run by the back door — here Gerald, you hold Toto ! GERALD {Suddenly.) No, no, Lisa, I won't. LISA But Gerald! GERALD Now look here darling, you are making me do all the things I swore I'd never do again. You're going off to sing — you drag me along and you want me to carry that damned pup. I won't do it, I tell you, I won't! 176 Act III LISA But Gerald — Madonna mia. We can't leave Toto. GERALD Very well, then, you can leave me. {Sits on sofa.) LISA (Phone rings.) Oh, Gerald — Gerald — not again! GERALD Oh, give me the damn dog. (Exits with dog under his arm. lisa follows.) BICE (Standing in doorway.) Exit Madame. CURTAIN 177 The Dragon A WONDER PLAY by LADY GREGORY Author of " Seven Short Plays," "New Comedies," etc. "Lady Gregory has written another really funny play in * The Dragon/ which is her best since * The Workhouse Ward/ It is the strangest mixture of ancient and modern fun ever concocted, and only Lady Gregory could piece the thing together and make it ' stageable.' I have not heard so much genuine hilarity at the Abbey for years. There are no dull moments in this strange conception." — A Dublin Review. G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS New York London The Bad Man A Novel By Charles Hanson Towne Based on the Play by Porter Emerson Browne Who has not heard of this delightful Bad Man? For many months he has been seen in the theatre; now he is captured between the covers of a book. Here he is. Shake hands with him. Get to know him. He is the best com- panion you could find for a quiet hour or two. The novel is as exciting as the play. G. P. Putnam's Sons New York London n 8? 89 «m j •. ^o* •• ^ 4**3* : ^ ■ v .*l^'*B ^ !♦. *_ c°\w*> -o -A V _k* 4CL ^ *, : .*♦*% : -SK- /\ l ™ : *^ ■ # « • * * /V HECKMAN BINDERY INC. |§ m,F£B 89 «*<& ? ^ V W U»i n i . ^ °A *»«° A ^ •'*