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O-KATSU-SAN
Take me!
THE GAKI
Silly old woman, you, too, like Obaa-San, can not feed me. Age learns to grasp at bubbles and pretend that they are stars.
O-KATSU-SAN
But I shall dream of my little girl.
THE GAKI
Ay, dream of her and have tender memories that are not pain.
O-SODE-SAN
I shall think of him and long for him, my lover.
THE GAKI
Ay, and in the memory of the firefly fête you'll make a poem that will leave you all melting-like and holy—then where shall I feed?
RIKI
Obaa-San, are you content? I'll let her die at my own hand before I'll let him live.
[He draws his dagger and leaps toward The Gaki; but old Obaa-San is too swift for him. She catches his hand.
OBAA-SAN
Riki! Would you kill the evil by killing the joy of us all?
RIKI
But the joy—my little Aoyagi—can not live so. See—
OBAA-SAN
O Gaki of Kokoru—I stand before you, no longer a suppliant. I am old and in my years I have known all the wanting, all the hopelessness one can know in life. But in your evil way, you brought to me a moment of happiness yesterday and in that moment I saw the beauty that I had always believed must be and yet that I had never known. In your evil arms you hold the treasure of my life—you hold the songs that filled the heart of Riki. But you do not feed, oh, Gaki of Kokoru. You can not feed. Oh, Gaki, what is this sixth hell of yours?—Who made it? Some man who was afraid of the joy of life;—it was too beautiful for his belief. Misery makes itself: so happiness makes itself. You stand before us, holding the darling of our dreams, but there is no misery so great as yours. See! I stand before you—unafraid—and in my heart lies happiness.—Aoyagi rested in my arms and my breast is warm and there is a glory where her dear head lay. In my life—if you take her from me—there will be an emptiness.—There will be long silences in the days to come; but my breast will still be warm with her touch and my ears will still hear the sweet words you cannot unsay—the lullaby I sang.—Oh, Gaki—it has been sung to her.—The climbing to the mountain gleaming in the sun—the glade where love found the perfect mystery—that cannot be undone whether we live or die.—Love that has been can never be undone.
[The Gaki looks from one to the other, but finds only that splendid happiness that is almost pain. He loosens his hold upon Aoyagi and turns to Riki with her.
THE GAKI
She is yours!—I have met perfect faith.—Five hells lie before me—but I have met a perfect faith.—You cannot know what wonder I am knowing. From the sixth hell I have seen a perfect faith.—I am content to die in this shape. Strike, Riki!
RIKI
I have my love.
THE GAKI
But a peace has come upon me, a peace that I have never known.—I seem to be on wings—afloat in the sky.—Stars and suns swing gently by—and cool clouds brush my brow.—Five hells lie before me.—Can it be, in each I shall find peace like this?—(He falls on his knees) Now a fire rages deep in me—a pain—I'm torn.—Oh, Obaa-San, I die—I die.—Come to me—touch me—let me feel your gentle hands.—So! So!—I have never known such gentleness.—Oh, I am cold—cold! Hold me—
[He rises—sways—and falls. It is full day. The Gaki rises wonderfully.
Obaa-San—I see—I see.—The hells were made by some man afraid of the joy of life.—It was too beautiful for his belief.—Riki—Aoyagi, there is the mountain gleaming in the morning light.—Go—see your footprints side by side.—A Gaki's feet trod upon them, but left no mark—and they are there side by side.—O-Sode-San, I look across the River of Heaven;—there stands your lover waiting for you—an empty boat is here to bear you to him.—O-Katsu-San,—the messenger of the other world bears your little one upon his broad, warm back.—They are smiling, O-Katsu-San—Obaa-San—
[He points to Riki and Aoyagi. Obaa-San goes to them and lays her hands upon them.
OBAA-SAN
My little girl!—my little boy!—Today the sun is very bright.
The Curtains Close
THE VERY NAKED BOY
An Interlude Before the Curtain
CHARACTERS
She
He
Brother
The scene is half way to a proposal.
A hallway with a heavily-curtained doorway in the centre. Right of this are two chairs with a tabouret between them. Right and Left are curtained arches.
She enters quickly, crossing to the chairs.
HE (following breathlessly and almost colliding with her as she stops)
Genevieve!
SHE (with a calmness strangely at variance with her entrance)
Well?
HE
Why did you—
SHE
I didn't.
HE
I beg your pardon, you may not have known it, but you did.
SHE
I didn't.
HE
If you'll only say you didn't mean it.
SHE
I didn't do it.
HE
Now, Genevieve, you know—
SHE
I didn't.
HE
Well, why did you—?
SHE
I didn't do it!
HE (meltingly but without humor or subtlety)
Well, if you didn't do it, dear—
[She is adamant.
Why did you run away the moment I came up to you?
SHE
I didn't run away—
[He looks at her quizzically.
I just came out here.
HE (hoping it isn't true)
But you seemed to be trying to avoid me.
SHE (with sphinx-like indifference)
Why should I avoid you?
HE
Genevieve! You make it impossible for me to talk to you.... I'll apologise if it will help.
SHE
Why should you apologise?
HE
Perhaps I've misconstrued your meaning.
SHE
I didn't mean anything—
[He smiles pleasantly with more hope than discretion.
–because I didn't do it.
HE
Now, Genevieve, I saw you do it.
SHE
You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Gordon, from further discussion.
[She seats herself, fully prepared for all the discussion she can force from him.
HE
But, Genevieve—
[He seats himself.
SHE
I didn't do it—and besides if I did what difference does it make? I'm free white and twenty-one.
HE (with a frail attempt at humor)
How old did you say?
SHE
I said I was free white.
HE
But, Genevieve, you must admit that—
SHE
Mr. Gordon!
HE
Please call me Henry. (In his emotion he pronounces it Hennery)
SHE
I don't see why I should.
HE
You did last night.
SHE
That was different. You were Dr. Jekyll last night.
HE
Oh, Genevieve—
SHE
You're showing your true colors tonight.
HE (appealingly)
I'm—sorry—
SHE
You're a tyrant.
HE
I don't mean to be. I think you're wo—
SHE
Now don't be personal. I'm not interested in your thoughts.
HE
But, Genevieve, won't you tell me why you did it?
SHE
I did it because—I've told you often enough I didn't do it.
HE (bitterly)
Joe—
SHE
Joe—what?
HE
Joe squeezed your hand.
SHE
Well, it's my hand, and besides I don't see why I should be cross-questioned by you.
HE
You know I'm—
[He leans toward her and she moves away.
SHE
You're what?
HE
I'm crazy about you.
SHE
Please, Mr. Gordon!
HE
Call me Henry! Just once.
SHE
I don't see why I should.
HE
Please, Genevieve.
SHE
Now don't be silly!
HE
Oh, Genevieve, if you only knew how it hurt me when you did it!
SHE
Did it hurt you?
HE
I could have killed Joe—gladly.
SHE
Honest!
HE
You know—you must know!
SHE
You certainly are calm about it.
HE (in the most absurd position that hopeless love can twist a man into)
What can I do? I can't be ridiculous.
SHE
Did you really see us?
HE
Yes, I saw you.
SHE
You seemed terribly tied up with Ethel.
HE
I had to sit by her.
SHE
I don't see why.
HE
I didn't have any place else to go.
SHE
I knew you were looking.
HE
Then why did you do it?
SHE
Don't ask me why. I loathe why.
HE
But oh, Genevieve, I love you so!
[He grasps her hand, not too violently. She gasps slightly, smiles pleasantly and becomes stern.
SHE (encouragingly)
Please, let go of my hand.
[He does so. She looks at him in mingled wonder and chagrin.
HE
Genevieve, isn't there any chance for me?
SHE
I've never thought of such a thing. What do you mean!
HE
I mean I love you.
SHE
… Yes?
HE (taking her scarf in his hand)
Aren't you interested?
SHE
Why, really, Mr. Gordon, you ask such strange questions.
HE
Oh, Genevieve—Genevieve—
[He kisses the scarf gently.
SHE [looking at him in wonder, disappointment and delight
Don't be silly.
HE
When a man's in love he always does silly things.
SHE
Always?
HE
Oh, Genevieve—
[He reaches for her hand reverently and this time she seems content to let matters rest.
SHE (making conversation)
I have the next dance with—
[She racks her memory.
HE
Joe, I suppose.
[He rises and crosses to the far side of the centre arch.
SHE (drawing her scarf about her and brushing against him as she passes.)
Excuse me, please.
HE (torrentially)
You shall not go. You shall listen to me. You have no right to treat me as a plaything when I love you so! I love you so! I love you so! I think of you all day long, I lie awake at night wondering what stars are looking upon you and I find myself envying them—every one of them.
[She tries to speak, but he presses her head against his shoulder.
I won't listen. You must hear me out. I've waited days and days and days for this chance to speak to you, and you've trailed me about like—like—like a poodle. I'm tired of it because I love you so.
[She tries to speak again; but succeeds only in mussing her hair.
HE
I want you to marry me, and marry me you shall if I have to carry you away with me. Oh, Genevieve, my darling Genevieve, just know that for this moment I am almost completely happy. You are close to me and I do not feel any struggle against me. Oh, if you will only listen to me, I do not mean to be brutal. I have torn your dress. I have mussed your precious hair. But I love you so! I love you so!
SHE
Oh, Henry—Henry—You are so wonderful!
[They embrace one long moment when an arm comes out between the curtains and tugs at his coat.
He lets go of her as though he had been shot, turns and sees the naked arm and the top of the Boy's head.
BOY (whispering)
Get her out of here!
SHE
Oh, Henry, Henry, have I been cruel to you?
HE (constrained)
We'd better go.
SHE (looks questioningly at him)
Please let's stay here.
[He presses her head against his breast and looks surreptitiously at the curtains.
The Boy makes as though to get out.
He starts violently—shoves the Boy back.
SHE
I saw you first—do you remember—at Poughkeepsie.
HE
Yes, yes—
SHE
I think—I liked you then.... But I never thought you'd be so wonderful.
HE
Let's go (whispering). Darling, let's go.
SHE
No, I want to stay here. I love this nook.
[He laughs nervously as she crosses to the curtains.
I should love to fill it full of great tall lilies.
[By this time she has become lyric and swept her arms against the curtains: with a cry, rushing to him for protection.
Henry, there's a man behind those curtains!
HE
I think we'd better go.
SHE
Oh, Henry, you're not going to leave him here.
HE
We'd better.
BOY [poking his head and a naked arm through the curtains
Yes, you'd better, because I'm going to get out of here.
SHE
Bob! You get your clothes on!
BOY
I told Mr. Gordon to get my clothes.
SHE
Mr. Gordon—
BOY
Call him Henry—just once—please, Genevieve.
HE (stiffly)
I'll get your clothes. Where are they?
BOY
In my room.
HE
What do you want?
BOY
Everything.
SHE (straightening up)
Don't be common, Robert.
[He starts for the door.
HE
No, I'm not going.
SHE
Hen—Mr. Gordon!… Very well. I'll go!
HE
No, you won't go either!
SHE
Please!
BOY
Well, I'll go.
[Boy moves as though to part the curtains. She screams a stifled little scream and both he and she rush to the curtains to hold them together.
SHE
Oh, Bob, if you won't get out I'll do anything for you.
BOY
Well, I'm cold.
SHE
Mr. Gordon, please go.
HE
I won't go!
SHE
You are very strange, indeed.... I'll go!
[She nears the door—Stops.
SHE
Never mind.
BOY
Oh, Henry, it's Ethel.
HE
Bob, won't you be a good sport? We'll turn our backs.
BOY
But will everybody else turn their back?
HE
Old man, can't you see how it is? We're—we're going to be engaged—and Ethel is out there—and—and—well—
BOY
Joe's out there, too.
HE
Well, yes.
SHE
Bob, I shall tell Father on you.
[She starts.
BOY
All right, go ahead. I'll tell Ethel.
SHE
Just wait.
BOY
I'll get out of here!
[Again the two rush precipitately to hold the Boy in place.
HE
Bob, be a man! You are childish and common. You are old enough to know better and I think it's an outrage for you to subject your sister to this fright. We can't go out of here just now—and you're making it very embarrassing for us.
SHE
Mr. Gordon—there's a cape in that closet. Will you get it for Bob.... He says he's cold.
[He goes to the closet.
SHE
Bob, I'll get even with you. You ought to be ashamed. I'm humiliated.
BOY
Why—Sis?
SHE
Imagine my being with a gentleman and having a very naked boy pop into the conversation.
[He returns with the cape.
HE
Here's the cape.
[He tosses it over the Boy's head and suddenly leans over and kisses her.
BOY
Why don't you smother me!
[Boy begins to emerge.
SHE
Bob, be careful.
[He and She turn away.
The Boy rises and as he does so the cloak falls about him until, when he steps out of the curtains, he discloses trousers and shoes.
BOY
I can't go through the hall looking like this.
SHE
You must.
HE (turning)
Go away, Bob. Your sister is very nervous.
[He sees the boy fairly well clothed. He gasps.
HE
Why—
SHE
Bob—
[Turning she sees the boy fairly well clothed.
I thought—How did you—Why didn't you—What were you doing in there?
BOY
Father was going to get strict and keep me off the water tonight and just as I came down here to get my sweater I heard him coming to the coat room so I jumped behind the curtains and let him pass and then Joe and Ethel came in and I couldn't let them see me this way. And then somebody else came and then you came in—well, I got cold.
HE (looking out)
Run on now, Bob, the hall is clear.
[Boy starts.
BOY
What was it you did, Sis?
SHE
I didn't do it.
BOY
Why didn't you do it?
SHE
I didn't do anything.
BOY
He said Joe squeezed your hand.
SHE
Absurd!
BOY
Well, I hope not, because he and Ethel got engaged in here too!
[He and She look fondly at each other and He murmurs, "Genevieve" as he reaches out for her.
The Boy begins to sing, "Oh, Genevieve, Sweet Genevieve," and they become aware of him, turning upon him and pursuing him with a warning cry of "Bob."
The End
JONATHAN MAKES A WISH
A Play in Three Acts
CHARACTERS
Aunt Letitia
Susan Sample
Uncle Nathaniel
Uncle John
Jonathan
Mlle. Perrault
Hank
Albert Peet
Mary
John III
ACT I
Jonathan Makes a Friend
[The scene represents the lumber room in the carriage house on John Clay's suburban estate. The room is crowded with old trunks, paintings, barrels, boxes, chests, furniture showing long residence during slow epochs of changing taste. Everything is in good order and carefully labelled. At the right of the room is a door opening onto the stairs which lead to the ground floor. A small window is set high in the peak of the gabled end up centre. At the left a chimney comes through the floor and cuts into the roof as though it had been added by Victorian standards of taste for exterior beautification. An open stove intrudes its pipe into the chimney. The single indication of the life of today having touched the place is the studied arrangement of an old rosewood square grand piano. The keyboard is uncovered. On the top is a tiny theatre—a model masked and touched with mystery, according to early adolescent standards. Two benches stand in front of the piano, and the piano stool is meticulously set in place. A flamboyant placard leaning against the music rack announces:
TODAY
ZENOBIA
A tragedy in ten acts
by
Alexander Jefferson, Sr.
The light in the room is dim, although it is quite bright out of doors. There are two low windows which are heavily barred. The little theatre is so arranged that when the manipulator stands on the box to work it, his head can be seen over the masking.
The curtain rises disclosing an empty room. Presently laborious steps are heard on the stairs and a key is turned in the lock. Then Aunt Letitia enters followed by Susan Sample. Aunt Letitia is a motherly old woman who has been in the Clay home for many years. She may have preferences, but like the buildings on the estate, she stays where she is. Susan Sample is a tall, slender girl of fourteen with a very gentle manner and a way of looking at people that indicates a receptivity rarely met in one so old. Letitia goes to one of the trunks marked E R in large white letters and unlocks it.
LETITIA
Here they are, my dear. Help me with the hasps.
SUSAN
What does E. R. really stand for, Mis' Letitia?
LETITIA
E. R.... That's a secret, Susan, that little girls aren't supposed to know.
SUSAN
I won't tell.
LETITIA
But what good would that do, my sweet? Please open the windows.
SUSAN (opening the window and returning to her question)
No one would know you told me.
LETITIA
I would know. Yes, I would know that I had told somebody else's secret.
SUSAN
Whose secret is it? Please.
LETITIA
I've been living in this house for thirty-five years, Susan, and I've known the secrets of all the boys and girls from time to time.
SUSAN
You know mine, too.
LETITIA
And I've never told one of them, either.
SUSAN
Does old Mr. John ever have secrets?
LETITIA
Old Mr. John! For shame!… Of course he has secrets.
SUSAN
I wish I knew some of his, Mis' Letitia.
LETITIA
My dear, you never will know them. John is very quiet.
SUSAN
Who in the family didn't have any secrets at all?
LETITIA
Oh, they all had secrets when they were young. Nathaniel had fewer than any of them and…
[Her words are lost tenderly in a memory.
SUSAN
Why hasn't he ever come back home?
LETITIA (as she busies herself with the contents of the trunk)
That is his secret, Susan, and we mustn't ask too many questions. Nathaniel is coming today. I won't ask any questions.... He was a fine young man. Yes, he's coming back today, my dear. He was the baby of the family.
SUSAN
How old is he now?
LETITIA
You little chatterbox! Between you and Jonathan I have to fight to keep anybody's secrets.
SUSAN
Does Jonathan ask many questions?
LETITIA
When we're alone he does. He's just like his Uncle Nathaniel. God bless him!
SUSAN (seeing a costume in the trunk)
Oh, isn't that just wonderful!
LETITIA (holding the costume up for Susan to see)
That is what you can wear in the pageant, my dear Susan.
SUSAN (taking the costume)
Oh! Oh! Oh!… I wish I knew whose it was.
LETITIA
Would that make it any prettier?
SUSAN
No, but I'd like to know just the same.... Was it E. R.'s?
[A cry is heard outside, "Aunt Letty! Aunt Letty!"
LETITIA
Oh, Susan, it's Nathaniel! It's my boy. Here I am, dear.
[She has an armful of costumes which she drops nervously.
SUSAN
Mis' Letitia, I believe you love him best of all!
LETITIA
No, I don't, but I always understood him, I think.
[The voice below calls again, "Where are you?"
Come up here, my boy. Come up to the lumber room.
[Steps are heard on the stairs, young eager steps, and Nathaniel Clay bursts into the room. He is an eternally young man of thirty-five, who has touched the dregs and the heights of the world and remained himself.
NATHANIEL [taking Letitia in his arms, then holding her from him as he inspects her
Aunt Letty! Not a day older.... But oh, so wise.
LETITIA
Nathaniel, my boy, my darling, darling boy.
NATHANIEL
Now, now. Don't cry.
LETITIA
My boy, my boy. My splendid boy.
[Susan has forgotten her costume in her admiration for Nathaniel. She puts it down on the bench in front of the piano.
NATHANIEL
And this is—
LETITIA
This is Susan Sample.
NATHANIEL
Not—
LETITIA
Yes, time has been flying, Nathaniel. This young lady is Mary Sample's daughter.
NATHANIEL
How do you do? I can't believe it. You were only a little pink cherub up there in the sky when I ran—
LETITIA (hurriedly interrupting him)
Yes, Susan was born three years after you went away.
NATHANIEL
Oh!… And, Aunt Letitia, you've opened Emily's trunk!
LETITIA
Yes, Susan is going to be in a pageant.
SUSAN
Who was Emily?
NATHANIEL
She was—
LETITIA
Nathaniel dear, you must not satisfy her curiosity.
(To Susan)
You go find Jonathan, dear, and tell him that his uncle is here.
(To Nathaniel)
I'll put these things away, and we'll go into the house.
SUSAN (reluctantly)
Good-bye, Mr. Clay.
NATHANIEL
Good-bye, Susan. You'll come back, won't you?
SUSAN
Oh, yes. Good-bye.
NATHANIEL
Good-bye.
[Susan goes out.
LETITIA
She hates to go. She's never seen anyone just like you: and I have only seen one.
NATHANIEL
Who's Jonathan?
LETITIA
He's the one.... He's Emily's boy.
NATHANIEL
You mean Emily—
LETITIA
No, no, my dear. Emily was married, left the stage. She wasn't happy. The boy was her only comfort.
NATHANIEL
He's my nephew. Why, I'm Uncle Nathaniel. Oh, Aunt Letty, I'm getting to be an old man!
LETITIA
Nathaniel, Jonathan doesn't know about his mother. I sent Susan away because I didn't want her to associate these things with Jonathan's mother.
NATHANIEL
My God, Emily didn't do anything wrong.
LETITIA
Well, she was an actress.
NATHANIEL
And a good one, too.
LETITIA
Yes, yes, dear. All that has been talked over many times, but John is the head of the family and he doesn't approve of the stage.
NATHANIEL
So! John is still himself.
LETITIA
John is austere, Nathaniel. He is a Clay through and through and he holds to the traditions of the family.
NATHANIEL
I remember the traditions, Aunt Letitia.
LETITIA
I never oppose John. He feels that he is right. But it is very hard sometimes to live up to his rules.
NATHANIEL
Has he rules?
LETITIA
Well, he has ideas, dear—much like your father's. We might call them rules.
NATHANIEL
Where is Emily?
LETITIA
Two years ago, Nathaniel.
[There is a moment's silence.
NATHANIEL
Did she ever go back to the stage?
LETITIA
No. John forbade it.
NATHANIEL
And John is still forbidding.
LETITIA
John is the head of the family.
NATHANIEL
So.... The Clay family is still an absolute monarchy.
LETITIA
Nathaniel, dear, will you promise me—
NATHANIEL (with a smile)
I'll try.
LETITIA
Will you promise not to antagonize John?
NATHANIEL
Will John antagonize me? I came back to see my home—to see you, my dear aunt. But I am a grown man now.
LETITIA
Won't you try to be patient? It will be pleasanter for me. And I have waited so long to see you, Nathaniel. There are seventeen very, very long years for us to talk about. Let John have his way.
NATHANIEL
Well, I'll try for a few days. But I give you warning, my ideas have been settling during the past few years, too.
LETITIA
Remember, he is used to being obeyed just as your father was.
NATHANIEL
Yes, I remember that, dear Aunt; but John isn't my father. He is just a brother to whom fate gave a fifteen years' start by birth.
[As a voice calls, "Nathaniel, are you up there?" Nathaniel looks at Letitia.
NATHANIEL
His voice is just the same. (Calling) Yes, John, I am up here.
[The antagonism between the two brothers is apparent immediately.
John Clay enters. He is an austere, pompous man of fifty who has the softness of the tithe-collector and the hardness of the tax-collector. He speaks with an adamantine finality which is destined to rude shattering.
JOHN
How do you do, Nathaniel?
NATHANIEL
I am very well, I thank you, John. How are you?
[They shake hands perfunctorily.
JOHN
You arrived ahead of time.
NATHANIEL
Yes.
JOHN
We haven't met for seventeen years.
NATHANIEL
No. I've been away, John.
JOHN
Where have you been?
NATHANIEL
I shall be here for two weeks, John, and if I should tell you all about myself today, I should have nothing to talk about tomorrow.
JOHN (severely)
You haven't changed, Nathaniel. You are still frivolous.
NATHANIEL
I shall be serious when I am your age, brother.
JOHN
I came out here to ask you to be very careful of your conversation before the children.
NATHANIEL
The children?
JOHN
Yes, my two grandchildren.—
NATHANIEL
Grandchildren! My, that makes me a great uncle. I am getting old, Aunt Letitia!
JOHN
I do not care to have them or Jonathan hear about any revolutionary or other unusual ideas.
NATHANIEL
I shall try not to contaminate the children and Jonathan. How old are the children?
JOHN
Mary is four and John 3rd is two.
NATHANIEL
I shall try to spare their sensibilities.
JOHN
They may not understand you but they will hear.
NATHANIEL (to Letitia)
How old is Jonathan?
LETITIA
Fourteen.
NATHANIEL
The impressionable age.
JOHN
The silly age.
NATHANIEL
Brother John, no age is the silly age. Fourteen is the age of visions and enchantments and fears. What a boy of fourteen sees and hears takes on a value that we cannot underestimate. Most men are defeated in life between fourteen and twenty. At fourteen a boy begins to make a lens through which he sees life. He thinks about everything. Ambition is beginning to stir in him and he begins to know why he likes things, why he wants to do certain things. He formulates lasting plans for the future and he takes in impressions that are indelible. Things that seem nothing to old people become memories to him that affect his whole life. The memory of a smile may encourage him to surmount all obstacles and the memory of a bitterness may act as an eternal barrier.
JOHN
Nathaniel, are you a father?
NATHANIEL
No, John, I am only a bachelor who is very much in love with life in general and one lady in particular.
JOHN
You can know nothing of children, then.
NATHANIEL
I remember myself. Most men forget their younger selves and that is fatal.
JOHN
One would think to hear you talk that the most important things in life were a boy of fourteen and his moorings.
NATHANIEL
One might know it.
JOHN
You are still the same impractical theorist.
NATHANIEL
I am the same theorist—a little older, a little more travelled. The trouble with you, John, is that you think no age is important except your own. You always thought that, even when you were fourteen. Oh, I know I wasn't born then, but I know you.
JOHN
Did you come back to your home in order to lecture me?
NATHANIEL
No, no, I beg your pardon. I came back to see my home and Aunt Letitia and the children—and you, and I—I think—Jonathan.
JOHN
Nathaniel, when your letter came telling me that you had decided to come back to see us, I was going to ask you not to come—
NATHANIEL
I gave no address.
JOHN
But on second thought, I made up my mind to forgive you—
NATHANIEL
Thank you.
JOHN
To let bygones be bygones.
NATHANIEL
That is the better way, brother: let the dead past bury its dead.
JOHN
Why did you run away from home?
NATHANIEL
Because we couldn't agree, John.
JOHN
I was older than you; my judgment was mature; I was the head of the family, in my father's place.
NATHANIEL
We didn't speak the same language. I wanted something out of life that you couldn't understand; that my father couldn't understand. I determined to get it by myself.
JOHN
Well?
NATHANIEL
And so, I ran away.
JOHN
Leaving no trace, no word.
NATHANIEL
Oh, yes, I left a very important word—"Good-bye."
JOHN
You were willing to leave all the work of our father's business on my shoulders.
NATHANIEL
You were willing to take it all. And I wanted my freedom.
JOHN
You were selfish and heartless.
NATHANIEL
Selfish? Because I had my life to live and meant to live it?
JOHN
You should have told us where you were living.
NATHANIEL
I preferred to work out my salvation alone, without interference. My going away gave you a free hand. John, don't tell me that you were not overjoyed that my flight gave you all my father's fortune.
JOHN
It was my duty as head of the family to protect you.
NATHANIEL
I didn't ask for protection. I wanted understanding.
JOHN
A boy of eighteen must not be allowed freedom.
NATHANIEL
Perhaps not, John, but he must be allowed to grow toward his goal. Eighteen is not too young for a man to fly through the air in defense of his country, or you. The burden of the world today is on the shoulders of men from eighteen to eighty, share and share alike.... I wanted to be a writer—
JOHN
And our brother Henry wanted to be a musical composer and our sister Emily wanted to be an actress! A fine putout for the leading commercial family of this state!
NATHANIEL
Well, John, our brother and our sister have paid the final penalty. They have died. Henry left a handful of worthless little tunes and Emily left a trunkful of costumes as monuments to their folly. And now Emily's boy is here under your wing.
JOHN
He's a dreamer like all the rest of you.
NATHANIEL (with interest; tenderly)
Yes?
JOHN
He spends all his leisure time playing with that fool toy there.
[He points to the model theatre.
Nathaniel smiles and crosses to the piano and lifts the cloth that covers the theatre; then he looks at the placard and laughs joyously.
NATHANIEL
"Zenobia." " Alexander Jefferson, Sr."
JOHN
He pretends that's his name—Alexander Jefferson, Sr!
NATHANIEL
People like to have other names. Look at all artists—like writers, pugilists, and actors, and base ball players. And the Sr. Is an effort to appear older.
JOHN
Well, I'm breaking him of all that nonsense. I allow him only a certain number of hours for play. Emily used to spoil him and it's been a task to conquer him.
NATHANIEL
Jonathan is fourteen. When I was fourteen—What are Jonathan's tastes?
JOHN
He reads all the time and he wants to write plays and poetry; but I am conquering that silliness.
NATHANIEL
I think I am going to like my nephew. John, I'll come into the house shortly. I think I'll look at this toy a moment and I'll get Aunt Letitia to show me some of Emily's things. A mere matter of sentiment.
JOHN
Now don't put any foolishness into the boy's head.
NATHANIEL
I promise you I sha'n't try to change the boy's head, brother.
JOHN
I play golf from five to six.
NATHANIEL
Oh, you've taken up athletics?
JOHN
The doctor's advice. Will you join me?
NATHANIEL
Thank you, no.
JOHN
Very well. I'll see you at dinner.
NATHANIEL
Thank you. (John goes out. Nathaniel looks musingly at Letitia who has been sitting silently on Emily's trunk, knitting, Nathaniel crosses to her and sits on a stool at her feet) Does John always talk to you so much, little church mouse?
LETITIA
I have been a poor relation for thirty-five years, my boy, and to be a successful poor relation, one must learn the art of silence.
NATHANIEL
No wonder I ran away!
LETITIA
But you should have written to me.
NATHANIEL
Perhaps—I should—yes—I should have written, but I didn't. You see, Aunt Letty, I was a sensitive boy. All my life I had dreamed of doing my own work. I saw Henry disappointed in life, I saw Emily made miserable enough through the traditions of the family. John couldn't understand me and I couldn't understand him. There was no common meeting-ground. John was the head of the family and so deeply was the idea of submission to rule ingrained in me that I could think of only one way out of my restraint. I wouldn't study engineering, and I wouldn't continue at Somerset School. Well, I ran away from my ancestral castle to find my way in a new world. I think I have found it.
