Chapter II: Part 2

And he was the only one who liked the others that failed.

JERRY

But it is outrageous of him to say you’d deserted your ideals. I have half a mind to write to the Editor.

GRANT

(_With a thought_)

Would it mean so very much to you if it were true?

JERRY

Of course it would.

GRANT

(_Defensively_)

But, after all, Jerry, does it make any difference to anybody but the artist whether he sells out or not?

JERRY

But, dear, _I_ think you’ve just begun to reach your ideals.

GRANT

Just begun?

JERRY

Yes. I never told you before because I didn’t want to discourage you when we were so hard up. But, Grant dear, I never liked all those other plays--especially THE LONELY WAY. They seemed unworthy of you. THE SAND BAR is the first play that really seems true to life.

GRANT

(_Staring at her_)

Really true to life?

JERRY

Yes. And I hope from now on you’ll go on writing the plays that will make people feel happier and....

GRANT

(_Suddenly bursting out in an ironic laugh_)

I’ve got it. I’ve got it.

JERRY

What?

GRANT

The curtain raiser Trebaro wants. I’ll call it THE MASK. No. MASKS! That’s the title. I’ll show _them_ whether I’m dead or not.

JERRY

What are you talking of?

GRANT

The theme of my play: that so long as an artist knows what he is doing with his art he is alive: that the only thing which can kill him is self-deception.

JERRY

Dear me, you’re going to write another play nobody will understand?

GRANT

(_Contemptuously_)

Why should I care whether _anybody_ will understand it?

JERRY

But Trebaro won’t produce it, dear.

GRANT

Oh yes, he will: he said he’d produce anything I wrote no matter how good it was.

JERRY

(_Seeing him eagerly go to his typewriter_)

You’re going to begin it _now_?

GRANT

Yes. _Now._ I can write it off at a sitting.

JERRY

To-night--of all nights?

GRANT

Yes. As Tom said: while the “glow” is here. Now that I’m free. I’ll show them whether I’m dead or not. I’ll use their very words. I’ll make it bite.

JERRY

(_Completely lost_)

I don’t understand you or what you are talking about.

GRANT

(_Gives her a look_)

You don’t need to understand now, Jerry; THE SAND BAR has released you.

JERRY

(_Hurt_)

I never heard you talk like this before. You’re unkind.

GRANT

(_Putting paper in machine_)

I don’t mean to be, dear; only my nerves are on edge.

JERRY

(_Begins to cry_)

I can see that. You’ve no regard for my feelings.

GRANT

I have my work....

JERRY

You seem so far off all of a sudden. To-night of all nights! Just when you’ve made your first real success!

GRANT

(_More testily_)

Please. Please, Jerry. I won’t be able to write this if I have to think of anything else.

(_He begins to write. He looks about the room showing he is
describing it._)

“The scene is the living-room in a flat. The doorway from the public stairs opens immediately upon it without the intervening privacy of a small hallway....”

(_He murmurs as he goes on, striking the keys very rapidly.
She stands looking at him--hurt and wondering what it means:
but he is absorbed. Then she slowly goes to the kerosene
heater and lights it. She looks at him a moment._)

JERRY

I guess I won’t wait up for you to-night. I’m cold.

(_She goes out, hardly controlling herself. He continues for
a moment. Then he gets up, still absorbed, and closes the
door after her. He resumes his work with the glow of intense
creation on his face._)

[CURTAIN]

[A] Copyright by George Middleton. See back of title page.

JIM’S BEAST

THE PEOPLE

BRONTOSAURUS, _a fossil_.
SARAH, _a scrubwoman_.
PROFESSOR POHL, _a curator_.
ROBERT HOOD, _a member of the Legislature_.
ELIZABETH LIVINGSTON, _a seeker of sensations_.
MRS. CORNELIUS VAN DYKE, _a social leader_.
MRS. JAMES MORROW, _a wealthy woman_.
ROBERT LIVINGSTON, _a good citizen_.
LARRY ANDERSON, _a doughboy_.

SCENE

_A corner in the Hall of Paleontology of a Public Museum; late one afternoon._

JIM’S BEAST[B]

_Two arched passageways are in back, and between them, on the wall, is a large dark plaster cast which may be a replica of the famous Dinosaur footprints in Brownstone. Beneath this is a low bench. At the extreme right, as one enters from back, there are two cases, just visible, in which are fossil bones and casts. There is a bench near them and an aisle between which leads off to the windows beyond, suggested by the soft streams of sunlight which shoot over the tops of the cases to the_ BRONTOSAURUS _opposite. Only the dull-colored flat skull and a portion of the neck of this venerable fossil are to be seen, projecting about a yard or two. It stands seven feet above its low platform, which is surrounded by a railing. On this is a slanted sign which describes it. Its size, its grimness and the light which rests upon it make it dominate everything. The remainder of the huge dinosaur is masked by a high screen at its left, upon which hangs a map indicating by its varied horizontal shades of color, the various geological strata and periods._

_When the curtain slowly lifts_, SARAH, _a scrubwoman, is on her knees, mopping the floor with long practised sweeps_.

_She is fifty, heavy, with a dull tired face lined by years of physical toil. Though her hair is tightly drawn back and tied in a knot, several long wisps fall across her eyes as she leans forward over her work; and she continually pushes these back with her arm, since her hands are wet and soapy._

_As she wrings her rag savagely she mumbles to herself in a rich Irish brogue._

SARAH

Scrub. Mop. Scrub. (_She looks up at the_ BRONTOSAURUS.) Keepin’ watch on me, too, ye dirty heathen. Grinnin’ there every day at me a-scrubbin’ and moppin’.

(_She raises the rag, in momentary revolt, as though she were
about to throw it at the skull. But she stops sullenly as she
mechanically resumes her work._)

Ye dirty heathen ... me a-scrubbin’....

(_As she finds a hairpin and sticks it in her hair_, PROF.
POHL _enters, carrying a small plaster cast in which is
embedded the outlines of a fossil_.

PROF. POHL, _the curator, is a short, round-shouldered man
nearing sixty. He is absorbed in his scientific interest,
devoid of conscious humor and fundamentally inclined to be
impatient with anything that has not been dead for at least
several million years._)

PROFESSOR

Good afternoon, Sarah.

SARAH

(_Mumbling half to herself resentfully, as he walks over where she has just mopped_)

And I was just after a-moppin’ up that place.

PROFESSOR

You’re cleaning up earlier than usual.

SARAH

Wipe ’em up as they comes, says I: it’s easier in the end.

PROFESSOR

But I’m expecting over two hundred soldiers here this afternoon.

SARAH

(_Astonished_)

Here? What’s the matter with ’em?

PROFESSOR

They’re slightly wounded.

SARAH

Shure: that explains it.

PROFESSOR

All the theaters are entertaining them so I’ve invited them here. I thought the soldiers might enjoy having me personally show them through the paleontological section. Dr. Taylor has volunteered to explain the mummies.

SARAH

What between these dead ’uns and them ould ladies the boys’ll be havin’ a foine time, all roight.

PROFESSOR

I thought it might be edifying, too.

SARAH

(_As she resumes her mopping_)

They’ll be a-makin’ more work for me; but footprints is footprints no matter who makes ’em.

PROFESSOR

(_Looking in case at the right_)

Now where’s that card?

(_He tries to get key out of pocket to open case but he is
afraid of breaking the cast._)

Sarah, will you assist me?

SARAH

Me! Touch one of them dead corpses?

PROFESSOR

No; no. That’s so; you’d get them wet.

(_She watches him as he goes to bench and lays the cast down
carefully on the handkerchief he has spread for it. Then he
goes over to case, opens it with a key, returns for cast and
puts it with care and affection in the case._)

SARAH

Ye’d be a-thinkin’ it was a baby ye was puttin’ to bed.

PROFESSOR

(_Admiring them_)

All these are my children, Sarah.

SARAH

(_Mumbling as she looks up at the_ BRONTOSAURUS)

I’d see a doctor about it if I was their mother.

PROFESSOR

There. (_He closes the case._) That’s a very rare Pterodactyl. (_She is somehow not impressed._) I’ve reconstructed it from five tiny bones found in Oregon.

SARAH

(_Wringing mop with a contemptuous look at him_)

Why go to all that trouble?

PROFESSOR

I’m afraid you wouldn’t understand. I study fossils, Sarah, because it is my profession--just as scrubbing is yours.

SARAH

Do ye have to do it?

PROFESSOR

No; I chose it. I’m very happy in it.

SARAH

What I’d loike to know is why I’ve got to scrub and mop all the day? _I_ don’t do it for pleasure.

PROFESSOR

(_Failing to see the human analogy_)

Somebody’s got to keep the Museum clean.

SARAH

(_Seeing him blow off some clay from bench_)

Yes. Some o’ us is born to wipe up other people’s dirt, and some’s born to make it. (_Wiping it._) Why can’t everybody clean up his own dirt, says I? Maybe they wouldn’t be makin’ so much.

PROFESSOR

I daresay you’re right. (_Over by the_ BRONTOSAURUS.) You’ve forgotten to run your rag over this platform.

SARAH

(_Rebelliously_)

Ye don’t git me inside th’ rail with that dirty heathen.

PROFESSOR

The superintendent tells me he’s had to remind you every day.

SARAH

(_Her revolt rises_)

If I’ve got to go inside there alone ye can tell ’im I’m through. There’s plenty of dirty places in the world what needs cleanin’ and if I’ve got to mop I’m going to do me own pickin’ of dirt an’ places.

PROFESSOR

(_Firmly_)

But you forget you’re paid for this.

SARAH

If ye’ll pardon my saying so I ain’t paid to go rubbin’ agin’ the slats of that dirty heathen loike you. I’m paid me two an’ a quarter a day to wash up people’s tracks. Two an’ a quarter a day, mind ye, by this place what owns jewels and things they wraps up in satins and laces what honest people could git some comfort out of--and the cost of livin’ mountin’ high as St. Peter himself.

PROFESSOR

(_Impatiently_)

If you won’t keep it clean, there are plenty of scrubwomen who will.

SARAH

Ye care more for the looks of that dirty heathen than ye do for my feelin’s.

PROFESSOR

(_Outraged_)

Sarah! You forget there are only a few fossils like this in existence! I don’t want to have to report you for lack of respect.

SARAH

Shure, it’s not ye I’m not respectin’--it’s that other inhuman beast.

PROFESSOR

Now be a sensible girl and run your rag over it.

SARAH

(_Sullenly as her revolt subsides_)

Oh, all roight. It’s seein’ it in me sleep I am as it is.

(_She slowly picks up the mop and pail and goes under the
rail, cautiously rubbing the platform with wide stretched
arms._)

PROFESSOR

Around the feet, Sarah.

SARAH

They’re so big it’s glad I am they’ve put a brass rail around ’im so he can’t be prowlin’ about at night trackin’ the place up. It’s bad enough some of the people what come here to see him.

PROFESSOR

But you have less to clean up than some of the other girls. (_Sighing._) So few people wander in this out of the way section.

SARAH

Ye don’t think anyone would be fool enough to look at these corpses for pleasure, do ye?

PROFESSOR

I suppose not.

SARAH

Even though it means more work to my poor back, I’m goin’ to ask to be put over where the cases of butterflies are. When I was a-scrubbin’ around them I could be thinkin’ that I was out among the daisies, instead of hangin’ ’round a morgue.

PROFESSOR

That’s much better, Sarah. (_Gazing in admiration at the fossil._) Wonderful specimen--wonderful!

(ROBERT HOOD _enters. He is a well set-up, attractive young
man about thirty. As he glances impatiently at his watch,
it is evident he is ill at ease and under the stress of an
unusual emotion. Though he carries a Museum catalogue it is
soon apparent he has come for a rendezvous._

SARAH _soon disappears from view--scrubbing_.)

HOOD

I beg your pardon. Is this where the Brontosaurus lives?

PROFESSOR

Yes. (_Proudly_) This is the Brontosaurus.

HOOD

(_Indifferently_)

Oh, is it? Thanks.

PROFESSOR

Are you interested in fossils?

HOOD

Fossils?--Oh, yes; but only the living ones.

PROFESSOR

Oh, then you’ve come to see the Hoatzins?

HOOD

(_Impatiently_)

Not especially.

PROFESSOR

They’re in the ornithological section. Curious, isn’t it, when people think fossils are so remote, that to-day in the thorn bushes along the Berbice River there should be a small living bird who swims, creeps, climbs, dives and can duplicate within a few minutes the processes of evolution through the centuries. Mr. Beebe calls them “living fossils”; so when you said....

HOOD

(_Again looking at his watch_)

It’s very interesting.

PROFESSOR

Their wing formation somewhat resembles the Archæopteryx. We have a cast of the Solenhofen specimen, if you....

HOOD

I have a catalogue. I’d like to study them myself, quietly at first, if you don’t mind.

(_He sits down on the bench at back and opens the catalogue.
The_ PROFESSOR _is offended, gives him a look and goes out.
The minute he has gone_, HOOD _arises, takes several steps
about as though looking for someone_. SARAH _has entered with
her pail and watches him. She stands there, a worn and abject
figure._ HOOD _takes out his watch again_.)

SARAH

I beg ye pardon?

HOOD

(_Startled a moment_)

Eh?

SARAH

Do ye be havin’ the toime about ye?

HOOD

My watch says four. But I think it must be fast.

SARAH

(_As she wearily crosses_)

Thank ye, sir.

HOOD

(_A bit anxiously_)

When does the Museum close?

SARAH

For ye or for me?

HOOD

Why, for me; of course.

SARAH

Ye’ll hear the bell in a half-hour; it’s not long after that I’ll be a-pullin’ up these shades.

HOOD

Thanks.

SARAH

(_Pointedly as she begins to wash up his footsteps_)

If ye need more toime to _look_ at the animals ye may be doin’ it, as the Professor is expectin’ a whole regiment of soldiers.

HOOD

(_Vexed_)

Coming _here_? I thought nobody ever came here?

SARAH

Ye mustn’t be surprised at anythin’ in a museum. All the strange animals ain’t behind the railin’s.

(_She gives him a knowing look and finally goes out of sight,
mopping down the aisle. He takes a step impatiently and then
sits in back and opens catalogue aimlessly as he sees_ MRS.
CORNELIUS VAN DYKE _and_ MRS. JAMES MORROW _enter from back.
They do not notice him at first._

MRS. VAN DYKE _is a harmless middle-aged woman who throughout
life has comfortably relied on her blood instead of her
brains. She hides the absence of the latter by a calm and
superior imperturbability._

_Her companion_, MRS. JAMES MORROW, _is younger; obviously
nouveau riche, she has achieved a successful manner, most of
which is dexterously expressed in her lorgnette_.

_Both women are handsomely gowned and proclaim to the
observer flaunting wealth._)

MRS. VAN DYKE

I’m sure we’ve lost our way.

MRS. MORROW

The attendant said keep turning to the right.

MRS. VAN DYKE

I can’t say it’s my idea of ancient jewelry.

MRS. MORROW

No. But if we dressed up at Mrs. Bilton’s ball like some of these animals, we’d certainly make a hit.

MRS. VAN DYKE

It might suit you, dear; but I think I’ll wear at least some jewelry. I’m sure there must be wonderful old pieces in the museum I can get Tiffany to copy in time. I must find something original.

MRS. MORROW

(_Looking absently at_ HOOD _through her lorgnette_)

Dear me, this is a terrible place--full of monsters.

MRS. VAN DYKE

I can’t say they’re very showy. (_Glancing at the_ BRONTOSAURUS.) What an ugly animal! What is it?

MRS. MORROW

(_Reading sign_)

It’s a Bron--(_Not able to pronounce it and turning away_) I left my reading-glasses at home. You try.

MRS. VAN DYKE

(_After studying it a moment_)

Oh, yes: I’ve heard of them. (_More closely._) Why, that looks like your husband....

MRS. MORROW

(_Interrupting, as she turns quickly to the fossil_)

My husband? That?

MRS. VAN DYKE

(_Looking more closely_)

Yes. It _is_ your husband’s name. (_Reading_) “Donated by James Morrow.”

MRS. MORROW

Why this must be Jim’s beast!

MRS. VAN DYKE

Jim’s beast?

(HOOD _covertly shows a bit of interest in spite of his more
pressing impatience over their presence_.)

MRS. MORROW

I knew there was something here Jim wanted me to see. He donated $250,000 to the museum last year. He said they’d bought some old animal with it.

MRS. VAN DYKE

I can’t say I admire his taste. I thought he went in for horses.

MRS. MORROW

Of course, it’s Jim’s own money; but it does seem a bit extravagant to turn all that money into old bones.

MRS. VAN DYKE

Yes; when he might buy so many nicer things you could wear.

MRS. MORROW

Jim’s been awfully generous to me; though, of course, now that the war’s over we’ve got to hold in a bit. He hasn’t any more army contracts, you know. (_Sighing_) It certainly was wonderful while it lasted.

MRS. VAN DYKE

I shouldn’t worry about it if I were you. Why, even this beast would look like a piece of bric-a-brac in that new house he gave you.

MRS. MORROW

(_The hand of_ SARAH _mopping in the aisle is seen_. MRS.
MORROW _is startled_.)

What’s that?

MRS. VAN DYKE

Oh, it’s only an old scrubwoman.

MRS. MORROW

They might wait till the museum closed before they splash about spoiling our gowns.

MRS. VAN DYKE

Well, if we’re ever going to see that ancient jewelry before we’re as old as it is, I suppose we’d better try and find it.

MRS. MORROW

But I’ll have to tell Jim I came especially to see his beast: he’ll want to know what it looks like, the poor dear!

(ELIZABETH LIVINGSTON _enters. She is a woman of such an
indefinite age that she must be past her early thirties.
Handsome, well-groomed and yet a bit hectic, her secret
is that she is a born intriguanté and likes to see men
feverish._

_She sees_ HOOD: _he sees her: the two women catch this
exchange of glances, though_ HOOD _instantly resumes reading
and_ BESS _goes quickly to the case opposite not to betray
she is there to meet_ HOOD.

_The two women exchange significant glances._ HOOD _looks up
and catches_ MRS. MORROW _eyeing him through her lorgnette.
He rises in question._)

MRS. MORROW

(_To cover it_)

I beg pardon. Do _you_ happen to know where they keep the ancient jewelry?

HOOD

(_Politely_)

I think it’s to the right.

MRS. VAN DYKE

But that’s what the other man said.

HOOD

Have you tried the long hall?

MRS. MORROW

But _which_ hall?

HOOD

(_Obviously trying to get rid of them_)

The very _furthest_ hall.

MRS. MORROW

Oh.... (_She turns to_ MRS. VAN DYKE.) The very furthest hall, he said. (_Aside to her as they turn_) I’m afraid we’re _de trop_. I’m sure it’s....

MRS. VAN DYKE

I thought so, too; and with a different tame robin this time. (_As she turns and looks at the_ BRONTOSAURUS.) I’m glad I won’t look like Jim’s beast when I’m dead.

MRS. MORROW

Well, dear, we’ll never be found in a museum at any rate.

MRS. VAN DYKE

(_As they go up_)

I don’t know. I’m most dead already.

(MRS. MORROW _gives a look at_ BESS _through her lorgnette.
They go out obviously gossiping about her._

HOOD _takes a step to see they have gone. Then he turns
tensely._)

HOOD

Bess!

BESS

Oh, Bob!

HOOD

Dearest!

BESS

Be careful. Somebody may see us. I’m sure those women....

HOOD

(_With extravagant expression_)

I’d like the whole world to see us. I can’t stand this much longer. Bess, I want you.

BESS

I know. Sh!

(SARAH _comes from out of aisle, goes out of sight, obviously
to clean another aisle. But she has seen them and gives a
knowing smile as though such rendezvous were not unusual._)

HOOD

It can’t go on like this.

BESS

Aren’t you satisfied with what we’ve already had?

HOOD

(_Unconsciously playing up to the situation_)

I want all or nothing--the _you_ all the world has, too. I....

BESS

Yes? Say it. I like to hear you say it.

HOOD

I want you to be my wife. (_Intensely_) Bess! Bess! Will you?

BESS

Give me time to think.

HOOD

But it can’t go on like this ... having me meet you in strange places ... always being afraid. Bess, you love me, don’t you?

BESS

Oh, Bob!

HOOD

You’ve never loved anybody before as you love me?

BESS

Oh, no; you’re so fine and strong and....

HOOD

Then why are you afraid?

BESS

The world ... my world ... your world....

HOOD

But you wouldn’t be the first who....

BESS

Don’t drive me to the wall!

HOOD

You must decide.

BESS

I’m thinking of you. I’m older than you. In time, perhaps, you....

HOOD

Never.

BESS

How you say it!

HOOD

I love you. I’ve never loved any woman before. I’ll never love any woman again.

BESS

My dear boy! I must go now. I just wanted to see you, to hear you say you love me.

HOOD

And I came because I wanted a definite answer.

BESS

Wait. In time. Don’t drive me to the wall.

HOOD

(_Heroically_)

I tell you I’ll kill myself if....

BESS

Bob! Do you care as much as that?

HOOD

Yes. Nothing else matters.

BESS

But your career--your position?

HOOD

You are more than all that. What will you give up for me?

BESS

Sh! Somebody’s coming. (_In a different tone, mistress of herself._) It must have taken a good many years to collect these specimens.

(RAY LIVINGSTON _has come in on this, walking slowly down
with eyes that glitter for a moment on seeing them_.

_He is about sixty. The tightly drawn skin on his face
clearly reveals the bones beneath. He is an aristocratic,
calm, collected man: the essence of deliberate politeness.
When he comes to them he acts as though he were surprised._)

LIVINGSTON

Bess. This is a surprise.

BESS

Ray?

LIVINGSTON

Do you come here often?

BESS

I was just strolling through to look at some ancient jewelry when I happened to meet Mr. Hood.--This is my husband. Mr. Hood.

(_As_ LIVINGSTON _crosses slowly and shakes his hand with
cold studied courtesy_, HOOD _gives him a sickly smile, ill
at ease in an unaccustomed situation_.)

LIVINGSTON

I’m charmed to meet you. I’ve heard Mrs. Livingston speak of you. Let me see, where was it?

BESS

(_Casually, mistress of herself_)

Perhaps it was after I first met him at Judge Wilton’s. Mr. Hood is in the Legislature, you know.

LIVINGSTON

To be sure. I remember your photograph in all the newspapers. (_Half playfully_) But you’re rather a young man for such a conspicuous and responsible office.

HOOD

(_Trying to be at ease_)

One soon grows older up there.

LIVINGSTON

(_Pleasantly_)

I hope that means wiser; for wisdom, I’m told, is only a matter of perspective, and its secret is finding the relative importance of things. (_With a smile._) But, of course, _every_thing must seem vitally important at the beginning. Just as each moment of life was _once_ the most important thing to these animals. (_Before_ HOOD _can answer_.) Are you interested in fossils?

HOOD

(_Eyes him_)

I’m trying to understand their meaning and significance.

LIVINGSTON

Do you find it difficult? I see you have a catalogue. Do you come here to study them?

BESS

(_Trying with her skill to relieve the situation_)

Mr. Hood was just telling me he was planning to introduce a bill in the Legislature to--to extend the wings.

LIVINGSTON

To extend the wings? What of?

BESS

Of the Museum, of course.

LIVINGSTON

Indeed?

HOOD

(_Lying in spite of himself_)

Yes.

BESS

(_With a reassuring smile_)

He thinks it’s a bit cramped here.

LIVINGSTON

I quite approve. Space is what is needed. But you’ll find it difficult to get money from the Legislature for such purposes. I’ve tried myself.

HOOD

Oh, are you interested in museums?

LIVINGSTON

Didn’t you tell him, Bess, about the museum I had planned?

BESS

(_Beginning to detect his intention_)

No; it slipped my mind.

LIVINGSTON

(_Playfully reproving her_)

And I had such a personal interest in it, too.

HOOD

Was it a museum for fossils?

LIVINGSTON

It was to prevent people from becoming fossils before their time. It was a museum of safety appliances.

HOOD

Industrial?

LIVINGSTON

No: domestic. From a very long life, I’d observed that in the world and in the home, most everybody, through lack of a little precaution, makes a fool of himself or herself once or twice in a life.

BESS

(_Suavely_)

I thought the average was higher; didn’t you, Mr. Hood?

LIVINGSTON

Perhaps the nasty messy mangling is. I’m not sure of the mortalities. You see, Mr. Hood--if you are interested?

HOOD

(_With a start_)

Very.

LIVINGSTON

What I mean is that people cut off a useful hand or limb--metaphorically, of course--because they go a little too near the machinery: the machinery of what we call the hard facts of life.

HOOD

And what was your exhibit intended for?

LIVINGSTON

(_Pointedly_)

To have them read the danger signs _first_. It was my plan to indicate how signs should be put up over terrain places, like stores and homes and....

BESS

(_Calmly_)

How interesting. What sort of signs were they to be, dear?

HOOD

“Don’t Handle,” “Watch Your Step.” You know the sort. You see, I have a theory that if these signs were placed about in enough places people would soon grow accustomed to carrying them in their mind’s eye, as it were. (_Pointedly_) Do you get my meaning?

BESS

But, dear; there are so many signs now. Look at these about here for instance. I’m sure people would never get anything out of these by carrying them about in their heads.

LIVINGSTON

It’s merely a matter of how much intelligence and imagination you bring to signs--otherwise they are only words.

(_As_ LIVINGSTON _crosses to read sign under the_ BRONTOSAURUS,
HOOD _makes a movement as though to speak, but_ BESS, _who has
sat on the bench, stops him with an imploring gesture_.)

Um--highly suggestive, this. (_Reading_) “Great Amphibious Dinosaur Brontosaurus ... Jurassic Period ... Donated by James Morrow.... The Brontosaurus lived several million years ago....” You see (_To them_) James Morrow and the animal have clasped hands over the centuries. Um. From this sign, can’t you picture the love and devotion to science that prompted such a gift?

HOOD

(_Now smiling for the first time_)

As it happens he didn’t even know what his money was for. While I was waiting here I heard Mrs. Morrow say.... (_He stops short as_ LIVINGSTON _gives him a sharp look_.)

BESS

(_Quickly_)

You see, dear, you were mistaken in that sign.

LIVINGSTON

(_Casually_)

Perhaps. Curious though how much information a man picks up while he _waits_ about. (_He crosses over to the case opposite._) I wonder what this one will reveal.

(HOOD _sees he has been caught in a slip. It spurs him into a
mood of retaliation. He overcomes a momentary hesitation and
then shows he resolves to tell_ LIVINGSTON _everything_.)

HOOD

(_With hoarse nervous intensity_)

Mr. Livingston!

BESS

(_Under her breath to him_)

Bob!

LIVINGSTON

(_Not turning_)

Yes?

(_For a second_ HOOD _is about to speak, but he is halted by_
BESS’S _look and voices, as the_ PROFESSOR, _followed by_
LARRY ANDERSON, _enters_.

LARRY _is a fine strapping doughboy in his uniform, on which
are two gold service stripes and several decorations for
bravery. His hand is bandaged. They come down._

_As_ LIVINGSTON _gives no indication of leaving_, BESS _still
sits there while_ HOOD _keeps his eyes on her husband’s back.
His silence holds them there._)

PROFESSOR

But I was expecting at least two hundred.

LARRY

They got lost on the way.

PROFESSOR

Lost?

LARRY

Yes. I left them at the Follies. But I’d heard my uncle speak of this place.

PROFESSOR

(_Brightens_)

Is your uncle interested in fossils?

LARRY

Yes. He’s a queer bug. He told me to be sure and not miss the Chamber of Horrors. You know, where all the Kings and Queens and statesmen are embalmed in wax?

PROFESSOR

But, my dear friend, they tore down the Eden Musée several years ago.

LARRY

They did? Why didn’t they wait till I got back? Haven’t you any Chamber of Horrors here?

PROFESSOR

No; this is the Paleontological section.

LARRY

(_Looking about_)

Well, now that I’m here maybe this will do as well.

(LIVINGSTON _now turns, leaning against the case, much
interested in the two men. As he shows no intention of
moving_, BESS _sits there, twisting her handkerchief
nervously in her hand_. HOOD _is embarrassed and undecided_.)

Trot ’em out, so I can tell uncle I’ve seen ’em.

PROFESSOR

(_Pointing to_ BRONTOSAURUS)

This is a major Dinosaur.

LARRY

Major what?

PROFESSOR

The more popular name is the Brontosaurus.

LARRY

Is that so? (_Looking at it._) Some bird!

PROFESSOR

It’s a reptile: its name means Thunder Lizard because its mighty tread shook the earth.

LARRY

Where did it grow?

PROFESSOR

From other bones we have found I should say it roamed all over the world. This specimen was dug up in Wyoming.

LARRY

What was it doing in Wyoming?

PROFESSOR

(_On his dignity_)

It was possibly overtaken there by an earthquake.

LARRY

Must have been some earthquake.

PROFESSOR

Since it was thus buried in silica away from the decomposing air and moisture, it was preserved for centuries--till we happened to discover it with a pick.

LARRY

You don’t say so! (_He looks at it a bit awed._) When we were digging trenches in No Man’s Land we used to find....

PROFESSOR

What?

LARRY

Not that sort of bones.

PROFESSOR

This was in an excellent state of preservation. It is sixty feet long and must have weighed when alive forty tons. It took seven years to dig it out and mount it. We had to be very careful not to break its marvelous tail. If you’ll walk to the other end you’ll get an idea of its length. We found ninety-seven perfect vertebræ.

LARRY

Ninety-seven? You don’t say so?

PROFESSOR

You can count them and see.

LARRY

Ninety-seven what you call ’ems! Think of that. (_As he goes up._) And you say it came from Wyoming?

PROFESSOR

Yes.

LARRY

(_Proudly_)

That’s my state, too.

(LARRY _wanders off out of sight looking at the fossil. As
the_ PROFESSOR _starts to follow_, LIVINGSTON, _who has been
watching his wife and_ HOOD, _stops him_.)

LIVINGSTON

I beg your pardon. I hope you won’t mind our being interested in what you were saying; but we were wondering about the animal ourselves.

(HOOD _looks at_ BESS _quickly not knowing what_ LIVINGSTON
_is driving at_.)

PROFESSOR

(_Brightening_)

Indeed? I’m afraid our young friend is a bit irreverent.

LIVINGSTON

May I ask what is known of its domestic habits?

PROFESSOR

It was hardly a domestic animal. Its family life probably extended only during the infancy of its young.

LIVINGSTON

Was this a female, by chance?

PROFESSOR

Yes: the large pelvic development....

LIVINGSTON

This one undoubtedly had young, too?

PROFESSOR

Of course. But we have never found any of its eggs. It was a reptile, you know.

LIVINGSTON

But while they were dependent it undoubtedly fought to protect its young--like other animals?

PROFESSOR

With very few exceptions all the female animals at least do that; even those of low intelligence.

LIVINGSTON

This one couldn’t by any chance have been wooed away from that obligation by romantic notions?

PROFESSOR

(_Suspiciously_)

This--romantic?

LIVINGSTON

But you said it roamed in search of adventure?

PROFESSOR

(_A bit on his dignity_)

Romance lies in the field of the emotions: I am a scientist.

LIVINGSTON

What I mean is: was she faithful to one or promiscuous?

PROFESSOR

(_Embarrassed_)

Undoubtedly promiscuous.

LIVINGSTON

Of course.--You see, Bess, the lady existed before man made his conventions.

PROFESSOR

Yes. She could follow all her natural instincts.

LIVINGSTON

Which were?

PROFESSOR

Food and fighting. You will observe her large maw and small brain. Her main weapon of defense was her long powerfully muscled tail. From the teeth, we deduce she was mainly herbivorous.

LIVINGSTON

What did she feed on?

PROFESSOR

Everything she could pick up.

LIVINGSTON

(_Significantly_)

Think of that, Hood--“everything she could pick up.”

PROFESSOR

Young weeds, tender grass and the like.

LIVINGSTON

Young weeds--ah, yes, of course. Yet in spite of her diet, there is something quite impressive about dead things, isn’t there?

PROFESSOR

(_Eyeing it_)

They have a dynamic power.

LIVINGSTON

Exactly. You see, Mr. Hood, a dead tree, that has in its time given shelter and substance, fights to be left standing. It resists the alien ax. Its roots go as deep as when they flowed with sap. They also fight to prevent themselves from being torn up. They don’t like to be disturbed--any more than this animal did in its cold clayey comfort. (_To_ PROFESSOR) You say it took seven years?

PROFESSOR

(_Not understanding_)

Yes. We were afraid of hurting it if we were careless.

LIVINGSTON

You were right to be careful: one shouldn’t hurt the dead. What is its scientific significance?

PROFESSOR

Nothing but a further proof of the slow processes of evolution.

LIVINGSTON

(_With a smile_)

I am a utilitarian. I see another significance. Possibly she was dug up, a thousand centuries after she died, just to give _you_ an occupation.

PROFESSOR

I can’t accept that as a working hypothesis.

LIVINGSTON

Just think, Hood. Several million years dead! There it stands for man to look upon! Possibly that was _why_ it existed, after all: for us _three_ to look upon. (_He glances pointedly at them._) Mr. Hood is thinking of introducing a bill in the Legislature to increase the wings of the Museum.

PROFESSOR

That’s very kind of him. We have many boxes still unpacked in the cellar for lack of room. But, unfortunately, this museum is under the control of the city, not the state.

LIVINGSTON

(_Smiling at_ HOOD)

Indeed?

BESS

(_Rising impatiently_)

It’s getting late.

LARRY

(_Re-entering_)

I only counted sixty-three.

PROFESSOR

(_Emphatically_)

But there are ninety-seven.

LARRY

All right. I won’t argue it.

PROFESSOR

If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you the Tyrannosaurus. They were carnivorous and the greatest fighters of them all.

LARRY

Say, this is a fine place to be showing a fellow who’s just back from France.

BESS

(_Sweetly_)

Young man, I’d like to shake your hand. I see you have all sorts of lovely decorations. May I ask how you got them?

LARRY

(_Embarrassed_)

Oh, I was careless and they pinned a rose on me by mistake.

BESS

You must be very proud of them?

LARRY

Sure I am. (_Looking at the_ BRONTOSAURUS.) But that lizard kinder takes the pride out of a fellow.

BESS

But _I_ admire bravery--whenever I see it. I’d like to hear about how you really got those decorations.

LARRY

Would you?

(_The gong in the distance rings._)

PROFESSOR

(_In back_)

If you want to see the Tyrannosaurus before we close....

LARRY

Oh, all right. (_To others_) Gee, I’ll be glad to get out among the live ones.

BESS

(_Smiling at him_)

So will I.

LIVINGSTON

(_Coldly_)

You should have gone to the Follies, young man.

LARRY

Oh, I might have sprained an ankle going to my seat.

(_He goes out after the_ PROFESSOR _as_ BESS _looks after
him_. SARAH _comes in back and then goes off. The rear of
room darkens, indicating she has pulled the curtain up._
LIVINGSTON _glances at_ HOOD _who is gazing at_ BESS _with a
strange enlightenment_.)

LIVINGSTON

I think you’re right, Bess: we’d better be going. We might stop and take the children for a spin before it’s dark.

BESS

Yes.

LIVINGSTON

(_To_ HOOD)

Are you going _our_ way?

HOOD

No.

BESS

You’re sure we can’t drop you somewhere?

HOOD

No. Thank you.

LIVINGSTON

I’m delighted to have met you, Mr. Hood. (_Shaking hands._) I shall follow your work in the Legislature with great interest.

HOOD

Perhaps I may be able to help you with _your_ museum.

LIVINGSTON

Just talking to you has encouraged me greatly. Good-bye. There is a big political future waiting a young man these days--if he keeps his head.

BESS

(_Shaking his hand_)

I’m sure my husband is right.

HOOD

(_Looking at her_)

So am I. Quite sure.

(_She turns away, as she sees what his tone of finality
implies, and looks up at the_ BRONTOSAURUS _with a start_.)

LIVINGSTON

What is it, dear?

BESS

Nothing. Only it seems to be smiling at us.

LIVINGSTON

All skulls grin: it’s the eternal laughter of the dead.

BESS

Come. (_As she starts._) Dear, don’t you think it might be a good idea to rescue that fine strong good-looking young soldier? He must be so lonely and we might take him for a drive.

LIVINGSTON

(_A bit wearily at what he sees ahead_)

Oh, yes; if you wish. But I’m sure he should have gone to the Follies.

(_He offers her his arm--she takes it._ HOOD _watches them as
they walk out without turning back. He stands there a moment,
with a cynical smile creeping over his lips. He throws the
catalogue on the seat. Then he goes to the sign before the_
BRONTOSAURUS.)

HOOD

(_Reading and thinking_)

“Mainly Herbivorous.” “Anything she can pick up.” “Several million years”....

(_As he gazes there_, SARAH _enters and goes out to pull
up the other curtain. She apparently does so for some red
rays slowly gather about the fossil. The room is darker. She
re-enters and stands there looking at him._ HOOD _gives a
sigh of relief, and determination: he puts on his hat, and,
with hands in his pockets, goes off whistling_.

SARAH _stands there as the room darkens. Then she goes over
near the seat and begins to mop._)

SARAH

Moppin’ and scrubbin’ ... moppin’....

(_She pauses and gives a glance at the_ BRONTOSAURUS _on
whose skull are now centered the rays of the setting sun_.)

Holy Mother of Saints! What are you grinnin’ at, ye dirty heathen?

(_She lifts her arm again in revolt as though to throw the
mop at it. Then she puts it down with a sense of futility.
She picks up her things and goes off slowly._

_The place is now dark save for the faint light on the skull;
and even that fades after a little while._)

[CURTAIN]

[B] Copyright by George Middleton. See back of title page.

TIDES

THE PEOPLE

WILLIAM WHITE, _a famous Internationalist_.
HILDA, _his wife_.
WALLACE, _their son_.

SCENE

_At the Whites; spring, 1917._

TIDES[C]

_A simply furnished study. The walls are lined with bookshelves, indicating, by their improvised quality, that they have been increased as occasion demanded. On these are stacked, in addition to the books themselves, many files of papers, magazines and “reports.” The large work-table, upon which rests a double student lamp and a telephone, is conspicuous. A leather couch with pillows is opposite, pointing towards a doorway which leads into the living-room. There is also a doorway in back, which apparently opens on the hallway beyond. The room is comfortable in spite of its general disorder: it is essentially the work-shop of a busy man of public affairs. The strong sunlight of a spring day comes in through the window, flooding the table._

WILLIAM WHITE _is standing by the window, smoking a pipe. He is about fifty, of striking appearance: the visual incarnation of the popular conception of a leader of men. There is authority and strength in the lines of his face; his whole personality is commanding; his voice has all the modulations of a well-trained orator; his gestures are sweeping--for, even in private conversation, he is habitually conscious of an audience. Otherwise, he is simple and engaging, with some indication of his humble origin._

_On the sofa opposite, with a letter in her hand_, HILDA WHITE, _his wife, is seated. She is somewhat younger in fact, though in appearance she is as one who has been worn a bit by the struggle of many years. Her manner contrasts with her husband’s: her inheritance of delicate refinement is ever present in her soft voice and gentle gesture. Yet she, too, suggests strength--the sort which will endure all for a fixed intention._

_It is obvious throughout that she and her husband have been happy comrades in their life together and that a deep fundamental bond has united them in spite of the different social spheres from which each has sprung._

WHITE

(_Seeing she has paused_)

Go on, dear; go on. Let’s hear all of it.

HILDA

Oh, what’s the use, Will? You know how differently he feels about the war.

WHITE

(_With quiet sarcasm_)

But it’s been so many years since your respectable brother has honored me even with the slightest allusion....

HILDA

If you care for what he says--(_Continuing to read the letter_)--“Remember, Hilda, you are an American. I don’t suppose your husband considers that an honor; but I do.”

WHITE

(_Interrupting_)

And what kind of an American has he been in times of peace? He’s wrung forty per cent profit out of his factory and fought every effort of the workers to organize. Ah, these smug hypocrites!

HILDA

(_Reading_)

“His violent opposition to America going in has been disgrace enough----”

WHITE

But his war profits were all right. Oh, yes.

HILDA

Let me finish, dear, since you want it. (_Reading_) “--been disgrace enough. But now that we’re in, I’m writing in the faint hope, if you are not too much under his influence, that you will persuade him to keep his mouth shut. This country will tolerate no difference of opinion now. You radicals had better get on board the band wagon. It’s prison or acceptance.” (_She stops reading._) He’s right, dear. There will be nothing more intolerant than a so-called democracy at war.

WHITE

By God! It’s superb! Silence for twenty years and now he writes his poor misguided sister for fear she will be further disgraced by her radical husband.

HILDA

We mustn’t descend to his bitterness.

WHITE

No: I suppose I should resuscitate the forgotten doctrine of forgiving my enemies.

HILDA

He’s not your enemy; he merely looks at it all differently.

WHITE

I was thinking of his calm contempt for me these twenty years--ever since you married me--“out of your class,” as he called it.

HILDA

Oh, hush, Will. I’ve been so happy with you I can bear him no ill will. Besides, doesn’t his attitude seem natural? You mustn’t forget that no man in this country has fought his class more than you. That hurts--especially coming from an _acquired_ relative.

WHITE

Yes; that aggravates the offense. And I’ll tell you something you may not know: (_Bitterly_) Whenever I’ve spoken against privilege and wealth it’s been his pudgy, comfortable face I’ve shaken my fist at. He’s been so damned comfortable all his life.

HILDA

(_She looks at him in surprise_)

Why, Will, you surely don’t envy him his comfort, do you? I can’t make you out. What’s come over you these last weeks? You’ve always been above such personal bitterness; even when you were most condemned and ridiculed. If it were anybody but you I’d think you had done something you were ashamed of.

WHITE

What do you mean?

HILDA

Haven’t you sometimes noticed that is what bitterness to another means: a failure within oneself? (_He goes over to chair and sits without answering._) I can think of you beaten by outside things--that sort of failure we all meet; but somehow I can never think of you failing yourself. You’ve been so brave and self-reliant: you’ve fought so hard for the truth.

WHITE

(_Tapping letter_)

But he thinks _he_ knows the truth, too.

HILDA

He’s also an intense nature.

WHITE

(_Thoughtfully after a pause_)

Yet there is _some_ truth in what he says.

HILDA

(_Smiling_)

But you didn’t like it--coming from him?

WHITE

It will be different with you and me now that America’s gone in.

HILDA

Yes. It will be harder for us here; for hate is always furthest from the trenches. But you and I are not the sort who would compromise to escape the persecution which is the resource of the non-combatant.

(_The phone rings: he looks at his watch._)

WHITE

That’s for me.

HILDA

Let me. (_She goes._) It may be Wallace. (_At phone._) Yes: this is 116 Chelsea. Long Distance? (_He starts as she says to him_) It must be our boy. (_At phone._) Who? Oh--_Mr._ William White? Yes: he’ll be here. (_She hangs up receiver._) She’ll ring when she gets the connection through.

WHITE

(_Turning away_)

It takes so long these days.

HILDA

Funny he didn’t ask for me.

WHITE

What made you think it was Wallace?

HILDA

I took it for granted. He must be having a hard time at college with all the boys full of war fever.

WHITE

And a father with my record.

HILDA

He should be proud of the example. He has more than other boys to cling to these days when everybody is losing his head as the band plays and the flag is waved. He won’t be carried away by it. He’ll remember all we taught him. Ah, Will, when I think we now have conscription--as they have in Germany--I thank God every night our boy is too young for the draft.

WHITE

But when his time comes what will he do?

HILDA

(_Calmly_)

He will do it with courage.

WHITE

(_Referring to her brother’s letter_)

Either prison or acceptance!

HILDA

I would rather have my son in prison than have him do what he felt was wrong. Wouldn’t you?

WHITE

(_Evasively_)

We won’t have to face that problem for two years.

HILDA

And when it comes--if he falters--I’ll give him these notes of that wonderful speech you made at the International Conference in 1910. (_Picking it up._) I was looking through it only this morning.

WHITE

(_Troubled_)

Oh, that speech.

HILDA

(_Glancing through it with enthusiasm_)

“All wars are imperialistic in origin. Do away with overseas investments, trade routes, private control of ammunition factories, secret diplomacy....”

WHITE

Don’t you see that’s all dead wood?

HILDA

(_Not heeding him_)

This part gave me new strength when I thought of Wallace. (_Reading with eloquence._) “War will stop when young men put Internationalism above Nationality, the law of God above the dictates of statesmen, the law of love above the law of hate, the law of self-sacrifice above the law of profit. There must be no boundaries in man’s thought. Let the young men of the world once throw down their arms, let them once refuse to point their guns at human hearts, and all the boundaries of the world will melt away and peace will find a resting-place in the hearts of men!”

WHITE

(_Taking it from her_)

And I made you believe it! What silly prophets we radicals were. (_He tears it up._) Mere scraps of paper, dear; scraps of paper, now.

HILDA

But it was the truth; it still _is_ the truth.

WHITE

Hilda, there’s something I want to talk over very very seriously with you. I’ve been putting it off.

HILDA

Yes, dear? (_The outer door is heard to bang._) Listen: wasn’t that the front door?

WHITE

Perhaps it’s the maid?

HILDA

(_A bit nervously_)

No: she’s upstairs. No one rang. Please see.

WHITE

(_Smiling_)

Now don’t worry! It can’t possibly be the Secret Service.

HILDA

One never knows in war times what to expect. I sometimes feel I am in a foreign country.

(WHITE _goes slowly to the door in back and opens it_.
WALLACE, _their son, with valise in hand, is standing there,
as though he had hesitated to enter_.

_He is a fine clean-cut young fellow, with his father’s
physical endowment and his mother’s spiritual intensity. The
essential note he strikes is that of honesty. It is apparent
he is under the pressure of a momentous decision which has
brought him unexpectedly home from college._)

WHITE

Wallace!

WALLACE

(_Shaking hands_)

Hello! Dad.

HILDA

Wallace! My boy!

(WALLACE _drops valise and goes to his mother’s arms_.)

WALLACE

(_With deep feeling_)

Mother!

WHITE

(_After a pause_)

Well, boy; this is unexpected. We were just talking of you.

WALLACE

Were you?

HILDA

I’m so glad to see you, so glad.

WALLACE

Yes ... yes ... but....

WHITE

There’s nothing the matter?

HILDA

You’ve had trouble at college?

WALLACE

Not exactly. But I couldn’t stand it there. I’ve left--for good.

WHITE

I was sure that would happen.

HILDA

Tell us. You know we’ll understand.

WALLACE

Dad, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk it over with mother first.

WHITE

Of course, old fellow, that’s right. She’ll stand by you just as she’s always stood by me--all these years. (_He kisses her._) I ... I....

(_He smooths her hair gently, looking into her eyes as she
smiles up at him._)

We mustn’t let this war hurt all we’ve had together--you and I----

HILDA

(_Smiling and turning towards her son_)

And Wallace.

WHITE

And Wallace. Yes. (WALLACE _looks away guiltily_.) Let me know when the phone comes.

(_He goes out hastily. She closes the door after him and
then comes to_ WALLACE, _who has sat down, indicating he is
troubled_.)

HILDA

They made it hard for you at college?

WALLACE

I don’t know how to tell you.

HILDA

I understand. The flag waving, the patriotic speeches, the billboards advertising the glory of war, the call of adventure offered to youth, the pressure of your friends--all made it hard for you to be called a slacker.

WALLACE

No, mother. I wasn’t afraid of what they could call me. That was easy.

HILDA

(_Proudly_)

You are your father’s son!

WALLACE

Mother, I can’t stand the thought of killing, you know that. And I couldn’t forget all you’ve told me. That’s why I’ve had to think this out all these months alone; why I’ve hesitated longer than most fellows. The only thing I was really afraid of was being wrong. But now I know I’m right and I’m going clean through to the limit.

HILDA

As your father said I’ll stand by you--whatever it is--if only you feel it’s right.

WALLACE

Will you? Will you, mother? No matter what happens? (_She nods._) I knew you would. (_Taking her hand._) Then mother, listen. I’ve volunteered.

HILDA

(_Shocked_)

Volunteered!

WALLACE

Yes. I leave for training-camp to-night.

HILDA

To-night?

WALLACE

Yes, mother. Once I made up my mind I couldn’t wait to be drafted. I wanted to offer myself. I didn’t want to be made to go.

HILDA

(_Hardly grasping it_)

But you are too young.

WALLACE

I lied about my age. You and father can stop me if you tell the truth. That’s why I’ve come back. I want you to promise you won’t tell.

HILDA

_You_ ask me to aid you in what I don’t believe?

WALLACE

But you said you’d stick by me if _I_ thought it was right.

HILDA

But....

WALLACE

(_With fervor_)

And I tell you, mother, I do feel it was right for America to go in. I see now we ought to have declared war when they crushed Belgium. Yes; we ought to have gone in when the Lusitania was sunk. But we’ve been patient. The President tried to keep us out of it until we _had_ to go in to save our self-respect. We had to go in to show we were men of honor, not pussy cats. We had to go in to show the world the Stars and Stripes wasn’t a dishrag on which the Germans could dry their bloody hands!

HILDA

(_Gazing at him incredulously_)

You hate them as much as that?

WALLACE

Hate? No, mother, no. (_As though questioning himself._) I really haven’t any hate for the German _people_. People are just people everywhere, I suppose, and they’re tricked and fooled by their rotten government, as the President says.

HILDA

Then why fight them?

WALLACE

Because they’re standing back of their government, doing what it says. And they’ve got to be licked to show them what kind of a government they have.

HILDA

At least you have no hate in your heart--that’s something.

WALLACE

Oh, yes, I have, mother. But it isn’t for the poor devils I’ve got to shoot. It’s for the stay-at-home fellow here in America who sits in a comfortable armchair, who applauds patriotic sentiment, cheers the flag and does nothing for his country but hate and hate--while we fight for him. That’s the fellow I’ll hate all right when I sit in the trenches. And that’s why I couldn’t look myself in the face if I stayed out a day longer; why, I’ve got to go in; why, I’m going to die if I must, because _everybody_ ought to be willing to die for what he believes.

HILDA

You are my son, _too_! For I would willingly have died if it could have kept us out of this war.

WALLACE

Yes. I am your son, too. And that’s why you wouldn’t respect me if I didn’t go through.

HILDA

No. I wouldn’t have respected you. But ... but.... (_She breaks a bit, then controls herself._) You are quite sure you’re doing what’s right?

WALLACE

(_Tenderly_)

Would I have been willing to hurt you like this?

HILDA

(_Holding him close to her_)

My boy; my boy!

WALLACE

It’ll be all right, mother.

HILDA