It's time something happened

By Arthur Doyle

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Title: It's time something happened

Author: Arthur Doyle


        
Release date: March 22, 2026 [eBook #78266]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: D. Appleton & Company, 1925

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78266

Credits: Tim Lindell, chenzw, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IT'S TIME SOMETHING HAPPENED ***




  APPLETON SHORT PLAYS
  No. 4

  IT’S TIME SOMETHING
  HAPPENED




  IT’S TIME SOMETHING
  HAPPENED

  BY

  ARTHUR DOYLE

  [Illustration]

  D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
  NEW YORK ¤ LONDON ¤ MCMXXV




  COPYRIGHT, 1925, BY
  D. APPLETON AND COMPANY

  _All Rights Reserved_

This play is fully protected by the copyright law, all requirements
of which have been complied with. No performance, either professional
or amateur, may be given without the permission of the publisher, D.
APPLETON AND COMPANY, 35 West 32nd Street, New York, or D. APPLETON AND
COMPANY, 25 Bedford Street, Covent Garden, London, England.

  Copyright, 1924, by Arthur Doyle

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA




IT’S TIME SOMETHING HAPPENED

CAST


  THE PROLOGUE
  THE SHE-ANGLE
  THE HE-ANGLE
  THE PLAYWRIGHT
  THE POET
  THE NOVELIST
  THE ACTRESS
  THE HUSBAND, _another He-Angle_

(_The_ PROLOGUE _steps before the curtain. He is dressed in tights,
etc., and carries a trumpet._)

PROLOGUE

Do you know who I am? Yes, I’m the Prologue. I’m not really the
Prologue: I am really the Exposition. But they put tights on me and
gave me this (_indicating the trumpet_) and called me the Prologue. I
can’t play a trumpet, but it goes well with my tights and looks good,
and besides it’s something to lean on while I’m standing over there.
Yes, I stand there during the whole play. It’s that kind of play.

There, I’ve told you! Yes, you’re going to see a play of a sort. Maybe
it won’t be much of a play. That will depend on how much of a help you
are. I suppose I’ve got to explain. That is part of my duties as the
Exposition.

You see last night a young man (he must have been a very young man)
dreamed a dream. I don’t mean that you can dream anything but a dream,
but it is better to say “dreamed a dream” than to say simply, “he
dreamed.” Now, this young man dreamed about triangles--not the kind he
ought to have dreamed about as a student of higher mathematics and a
very young man--but the other kind. He must have been pretty much of a
playgoer, this young man.

As I say, he dreamed of triangles. He dreamed of a man and a wife and
another man. That’s what is known as a triangle, you know. He didn’t
give much time to the husband, but he did get the wife and the other
man into a terrible mess. He made them fall in love, and he was just
about to solve the problem of how he was going to get rid of the
husband--that’s always the problem of triangles, you know--when he woke
up.

Do you see the difficulty? Here are two angles, desperately in love,
and they haven’t yet found out how they can get rid of the husband
angle. And, moreover--but no, I’ve been enough Exposition for the
present. If anything comes up that you don’t understand, I’ll try to
make it clear to you. I’ll be right over here if you want me. If you’re
all ready, we’ll begin. Just remember that you’re to help the angles if
you can, please!

(_He walks to one side and folds his arms. The curtains part, revealing
a blank wall of curtains in the rear. Before curtains are three high
stools._ _On left stool the_ SHE-ANGLE _sits and on right stool the_
HE-ANGLE, _leaving the center stool vacant_.)

HE-ANGLE

Well?

SHE-ANGLE (_shortly_)

I didn’t say anything.

HE-ANGLE

Oh!

(_Pause._)

SHE-ANGLE

What?

HE-ANGLE

I didn’t say anything.

SHE-ANGLE

Oh!

(_Pause._)

HE-ANGLE

This isn’t getting us anywhere.

SHE-ANGLE

That’s right. Blame it on me!

HE-ANGLE

Who’s blaming it on you?

SHE-ANGLE

You are!

HE-ANGLE

I’m not!

SHE-ANGLE

You are!

HE-ANGLE

I’m not!

SHE-ANGLE

I say you are.

HE-ANGLE

I’m--Oh, well, have it your own way. But, after all, it isn’t getting
us anywhere, is it?

SHE-ANGLE

Who said it was?

HE-ANGLE

That’s right. Blame it on me!

SHE-ANGLE

Who’s blaming it on you?

HE-ANGLE

You are.

SHE-ANGLE

I’m not!

HE-ANGLE

You-- Oh, there we go again. (_Gets off chair and paces across stage._)
After all, it _isn’t_ getting us anywhere.

SHE-ANGLE

Well, I’ve done all I could.

HE-ANGLE

What have you done?

SHE-ANGLE

I’ve done everything I could.

HE-ANGLE

So I heard you say. But what have you done?

SHE-ANGLE

I’ve racked my brains for days, if you want to know.

HE-ANGLE

Oh, surely, it didn’t take all that.

SHE-ANGLE

All what?

HE-ANGLE

Days.

SHE-ANGLE (_beginning to sob_)

There! You’re just like all men. Oh! And I thought you different.

HE-ANGLE

Oh, come now! I say, there isn’t any reason for that.

SHE-ANGLE

Oh, no! You’d say not. You would.

HE-ANGLE

Well, what did I say?

SHE-ANGLE

You said--(_Sobs._)--You said I didn’t have any brains.

HE-ANGLE

I didn’t!

SHE-ANGLE

You did.

HE-ANGLE

I didn’t.

SHE-ANGLE (_sobbing_)

You _did_!

HE-ANGLE

Oh, well. (_He goes over to her and takes her hand._) I’m sorry.
Really, I am, if I said it, but I don’t think I did.

SHE-ANGLE (_brightening_)

Well, you did.

HE-ANGLE

I’m sorry. (_Puts arm about her._) I am like all men, I guess.

SHE-ANGLE

What do you mean by that?

HE-ANGLE

Oh, nothing. But what are you going to do about it?

SHE-ANGLE

I’ve been trying to tell you all along, if you’d only let me.

HE-ANGLE

What have you been trying to tell me?

SHE-ANGLE

What I’m going to do about it.

HE-ANGLE

Oh!

SHE-ANGLE

What?

HE-ANGLE

Nothing. I just said “Oh”!

SHE-ANGLE

Oh!

(_Pause._)

HE-ANGLE

Well?

SHE-ANGLE

I didn’t say anything.

HE-ANGLE

Oh!

(_Pause._)

SHE-ANGLE

You see, I will not just run away from my husband. I say I won’t!

HE-ANGLE

No! Certainly not. But what are you going to do? You know I love you.
Where do I come in?

SHE-ANGLE

Well, I’ve sent for a playwright.

HE-ANGLE

Oh!

SHE-ANGLE

Yes.

HE-ANGLE

But what good is a playwright?

SHE-ANGLE

Why, don’t you see? To get us out of this mess.

HE-ANGLE

But what _good_ is he?

SHE-ANGLE

Why, don’t you see?

HE-ANGLE

No.

SHE-ANGLE

Why, playwrights have to do with angles, and triangles, and all that
sort of thing. He should be able to help us.

HE-ANGLE

Oh!

(_Pause._)

SHE-ANGLE

Well?

HE-ANGLE

I didn’t say anything.

SHE-ANGLE

Oh!

(_Pause._)

SHE-ANGLE

But I think you might.

HE-ANGLE

Might what?

SHE-ANGLE

Say something. What do you think of it--my plan?

HE-ANGLE

Oh! it’s all right, I guess.

SHE-ANGLE

You guess!

(_Looks as if on the verge of tears._)

HE-ANGLE

Why, of course it is. It’s fine; that’s what it is. It’s great! But
suppose he won’t be able to help us?

SHE-ANGLE

He--(_Looks off left._)--Here he comes! He will! (_Enter_ PLAYWRIGHT
_from left_. _Both_ HE-ANGLE _and_ SHE-ANGLE _look at him curiously_.
HE-ANGLE _goes back to his stool_.)

PLAYWRIGHT

You sent for me?

SHE-ANGLE

So you’re really a playwright! Oh!

PLAYWRIGHT

Well, rather. You sent for me?

SHE-ANGLE

Yes. I sent for you.

PLAYWRIGHT

Well?

  HE-ANGLE  }
  SHE-ANGLE } (_together_)

I didn’t say anything.

PLAYWRIGHT

But what did you send for me for?

SHE-ANGLE

I told you that--in my letter. You know--my husband. We’ve got to get
free from him.

PLAYWRIGHT

Oh, yes! Husband--triangle. H’m.

SHE-ANGLE

I thought that you, being a playwright--

PLAYWRIGHT

Yes, yes, of course.

SHE-ANGLE

You see, it’s really a very serious matter.

PLAYWRIGHT

H’m! Oh, not so serious!

HE-ANGLE

But what are we going to do about it?

PLAYWRIGHT

Not so fast, young man! Don’t be impatient.

HE-ANGLE

But we’re tired just being--angles.

PLAYWRIGHT

Of course. H’m! Have you told him?

SHE-ANGLE

Whom?

PLAYWRIGHT

Why, your husband.

SHE-ANGLE

No.

PLAYWRIGHT

No, of course not. But it is all very plain.

HE-ANGLE

What is all very plain?

PLAYWRIGHT

It’s all very simple. All you have to do is to run away.

  HE-ANGLE  }
  SHE-ANGLE } Run away!

PLAYWRIGHT

Why, of course. Together!

SHE-ANGLE

But--but the scandal.

PLAYWRIGHT

Ah, of course--the scandal. Wonderful! Think of it. The whole town
talking. Ah, Pinero! Everyone that’s worth while. Of course!

SHE-ANGLE

But I don’t want them to talk!

PLAYWRIGHT

Don’t be foolish! Think of the dialogue!

HE-ANGLE

The what?

PLAYWRIGHT

The dialogue. Think of what people will say! Sparkling, eh, what!
Scintillating! Think of it! Ah, Wilde!

SHE-ANGLE

But I don’t want them to talk!

PLAYWRIGHT

Well, of all the--! But they will talk!

HE-ANGLE

No!

PLAYWRIGHT

Yes! Of course they will. Do you think they’re fools? If they didn’t
talk, why--why there wouldn’t be any sense to triangles. You angles
must take the consequences. If you must angle, you must be talked about.

SHE-ANGLE

No! I refuse!

HE-ANGLE

Certainly not!

(_Pause._)

PLAYWRIGHT

Well, then, if you insist on shutting out dialogue. There--have you
thought of--How is your husband?

SHE-ANGLE

Why, well, thank you! Why--What do you mean?

PLAYWRIGHT

I mean--doesn’t he have anything?

SHE-ANGLE

Doesn’t he have anything?

PLAYWRIGHT

Why, yes--apoplexy or locomotor ataxia, or diabetes, or something?

SHE-ANGLE

Why--why, no!

PLAYWRIGHT

Pshaw, that’s too bad.

SHE-ANGLE

But I don’t know what you mean!

PLAYWRIGHT

Why, don’t you see? If he had something, he’d be bound to die at the
right moment--which is now. Sort of an unwritten law among husbands,
you know. They always do. They’re bound to in such cases as this--if
everything else fails.

SHE-ANGLE

Well, he won’t.

HE-ANGLE

No, he’s healthy as a fool! Besides, he wouldn’t have the decency.

SHE-ANGLE

He would! He would die, if he could. I know he would!

HE-ANGLE

He wouldn’t! He’s too mean!

SHE-ANGLE

He isn’t! Besides, I don’t want him to die.

HE-ANGLE

Who said you did?

SHE-ANGLE

You did!

HE-ANGLE

I didn’t!

SHE-ANGLE

You _did_! You _did_! You _did_!

HE-ANGLE

Oh, well!

PLAYWRIGHT

Come now, this isn’t getting us anywhere. We’re not through yet.
There’s still another chance.

  HE-ANGLE  }
  SHE-ANGLE } (_together_)

What is it?

PLAYWRIGHT

Hire a yacht!

SHE-ANGLE

A yacht?

PLAYWRIGHT

Of course. Hire a yacht and get shipwrecked.

SHE-ANGLE

Oh!

HE-ANGLE

Get shipwrecked?

PLAYWRIGHT

Of course. Hire a yacht and go to the South Sea Islands--Fiji will do.
Get shipwrecked--it’s very easy to manage. Then, out there, under the
open sky and the stars--nature will tell.

SHE-ANGLE

Nature will tell?

PLAYWRIGHT

Why, yes. You’ll fight--you (_to_ HE-ANGLE) and he. Let the best man
win! You’ll win--unless you lose. In either case--(_To_ SHE-ANGLE.) In
either case you’ll be satisfied. If your husband wins, you’ll find that
all along you wanted your husband to win. (_Indicating_ HE-ANGLE.) If
he wins, you’ll be happy to know that the man destiny picked for you
won. It’s a fine place, the South Seas. You’re always satisfied.

SHE-ANGLE

But I don’t want to go to the South Seas!

HE-ANGLE

Neither do I. It’s too lonely.

PLAYWRIGHT

Ah, no! It isn’t lonely any more. The South Seas have become very
popular with the people who want to read their Ten Favorite Books and
who never would read them anywhere else. You’d not be lonely--if you
enjoy Shakespeare and Walt Whitman.

SHE-ANGLE

I hate Shakespeare, and I hate Walt Whitman! I won’t go! A fortune
teller once told me I’d die by drowning, and I won’t go aboard a ship!

PLAYWRIGHT

Not even to Europe?

SHE-ANGLE

Not even to Europe.

PLAYWRIGHT

How vulgar! (_He walks toward off stage._) Good day!

SHE-ANGLE

What, are you going?

PLAYWRIGHT

Yes, I’m going. What do you expect me to do? Stay here and be insulted?

HE-ANGLE

Be insulted?

PLAYWRIGHT

Yes, be insulted. When you sent for me, I thought you would follow my
advice. I have more to give, but I refuse to have my ideas laughed at.
They’ve always been successful before--they still are in a thousand
cases. But you think you’re too good, and your husband is too damn
healthy, and yourself too superstitious. Good day.

(_He lifts his hat and passes out right. Both_ HE-ANGLE _and_ SHE-ANGLE
_look disconsolately after him_.)

SHE-ANGLE

Well?

HE-ANGLE

I didn’t say anything.

SHE-ANGLE

Oh!

(_Pause._)

HE-ANGLE

I told you so!

SHE-ANGLE

What did you tell me?

HE-ANGLE

That a fool playwright wouldn’t be any help.

SHE-ANGLE

You didn’t!

HE-ANGLE

I did! Now if you’d followed my plan in the first place!

SHE-ANGLE

You didn’t have any plan.

HE-ANGLE

I did. You know I did. My friend, the Poet. If you’d only sent for
him--He’d be able to help us. A poet’s got imagination. That’s what we
need--imagination. He’s got it--my friend, the Poet.

SHE-ANGLE

Why didn’t _you_ send for him?

HE-ANGLE

I did, even if you wouldn’t. I asked him to come, and he said he’d be
right over.

SHE-ANGLE

Well, why didn’t he come?

HE-ANGLE

He’d been here long ago if it hadn’t been for that fool of a
playwright. I never liked playwrights anyway. Poets for me every time.
They’re so practical.

SHE-ANGLE

Well, why doesn’t he come?

HE-ANGLE

He probably is here; no doubt he’s been here all the time that fool
Playwright was here, only I didn’t want to have them meet. They don’t
hitch very well, Poets and Playwrights. At least any more. (_He looks
toward_ PROLOGUE.) Is the Poet here?

(_The_ PROLOGUE _looks off stage right_.)

PROLOGUE

Yes, the Poet is here.

HE-ANGLE

Send him in.

PROLOGUE

I beg your pardon! I’m a Prologue--not a butler. However, I’ll call him
if you insist. But please address me more respectfully in the future.

HE-ANGLE

I beg your pardon, Prologue. Please call the Poet.

PROLOGUE (_beckoning off stage right_)

Poet.

(_Enter_ POET _from right. He is fat, bald, and of a rosy complexion._)

POET

Hullo!

HE-ANGLE (_getting off stool_)

Hullo! (_Turns to_ SHE-ANGLE.) May I introduce Poet?

SHE-ANGLE (_bowing stiffly_)

How do you do!

(_She is not a bit impressed._)

POET

You sent for me?

HE-ANGLE

Yes. As I explained in my letter, we want advice on how to solve our
triangle.

POET

But I’m a Poet. I always was rotten at mathematics.

HE-ANGLE

But this is not a mathematical triangle. (_He gets back on stool._) You
see (_indicating_ SHE-ANGLE), we’re angles.

POET

Oh, I see! (_To_ SHE-ANGLE.) He’s complimentary, eh, what? Haw!

(SHE-ANGLE _sniffs, very much upstage, at the pun_.)

HE-ANGLE

We need your advice. Imagination! It’s going to take imagination to get
us out of this mess. That’s why I sent for you.

POET

Thank you. Well, then, what have you done?

HE-ANGLE

Nothing.

SHE-ANGLE

A Playwright tried to help us, but--

POET

But couldn’t. Of course! Tawdry stuff, I suppose. I know just about
what he would suggest. It goes well enough on the stage, but it isn’t
art.

SHE-ANGLE

Ah! Art!

POET

Of course. You want to be artistic, don’t you?

SHE-ANGLE (_beginning to melt_)

Yes. Oh, yes!

POET

H’m.

(_Pause._)

HE-ANGLE

Well?

POET

I didn’t say anything.

SHE-ANGLE

Oh!

(_Pause._)

POET

There’s really not much to be done. It’s all so simple, really, and all
so artistic. Poetry! I tell you there’s poetry there.

  HE-ANGLE  }
  SHE-ANGLE } (_together_)

Where?

POET

There.

  HE-ANGLE  }
  SHE-ANGLE } (_together_)

Oh!

POET

Yes, there’s poetry there, and art. It’s so artistic to suffer.

SHE-ANGLE

To suffer?

POET

Yes, so artistic. A sacrifice on the altar of living love. Oh, divine
sacrifice! Oh, the beauty and the art of suffering!

HE-ANGLE

Say, I don’t get all that you’re raving about, but if you have the
idea that we aren’t suffering, you’re way off. We are. And it may be
artistic, but it’s damn uncomfortable.

POET

Uncomfortable. Yes. So artistic. The altar of living love. Purple love,
deep, mystic, fragrant, yes. So uncomfortable, but so beautiful.

SHE-ANGLE

But I thought you would be able to help us.

POET

Ah, I am able. So able! Already I have envisioned your life. So heroic!
So hopeless!

HE-ANGLE

Hopeless?

POET

Yes. Two lives sacrificed on the altar of living, hopeless love.
Deathless love, fragrant and so purple!

HE-ANGLE

Come out of it and explain all this nonsense to us! Can you help us
escape from this awful three-cornered prison?

POET

Ah, yes, three-cornered. The three-cornered prison of love! Fetters
forged in the vermillion fire of love. No blue flame to love, but deep
vermillion girandoles of passion! So vermillion!

SHE-ANGLE (_she has stood it as long as she can_)

He’s mad!

POET (_starting up_)

What?

HE-ANGLE

I sent for you, thinking that with your imagination you would be able
to help us. But it seems that you’ve got too much imagination. Have you
any suggestion or haven’t you?

POET

Why, of course I have. Haven’t I been telling you all along?

SHE-ANGLE

Well, how am I to get rid of my husband?

POET

Ah, madam. You’ll not do that. Ah, no! So comfortable but so inartistic.

SHE-ANGLE

Not get rid of him! But what shall I do?

POET

Live. Madam, live--a living sacrifice on the altar of a living love!

SHE-ANGLE

You mean--? You don’t mean--?

POET

Yes.

HE-ANGLE

But where do I come in?

POET

Ah, my boy. That is it. You, too, can suffer so beautifully. Eternally!
Love is eternity. Love her, my boy, and suffer from afar.

HE-ANGLE

Not marry her?

POET

No, no! Not marry her! That would not be art. You must deny your love,
lock it in your heart and go.

HE-ANGLE

Go where?

POET

That doesn’t matter. Just go. In your heart a love denied. So denied!

HE-ANGLE

But I’m not going. I’m going----

POET

But I thought you said you weren’t.

HE-ANGLE

I’m going to marry her!

POET

No! Good Lord, no! Anything but that. Seal up your hearts with the
seals of eternity and deny your love. There only is Poetry! There only
is Art! Seal up your hearts, I say. But don’t marry.

SHE-ANGLE

I will marry him!

POET

You, too! Think of it. Why, you are spoiling your great opportunity of
sacrificing yourself on the altar of deathless love. You may be _sung_,
if you seal your hearts; but marry, and you’ll go and have children.
Ugh!

SHE-ANGLE

I love children.

POET

Ugh! Deny your purple love, and suffer the eternal pangs of deathless,
hopeless yearning. I’ll sing you. Why, I’ve already thought of two new
rhymes for love and a beautiful simile. Think of it. Deny your love and
have your story told to the world in similes!

SHE-ANGLE

I hate similes!

POET

So heroic! So beautiful! So deathless to deny a hopeless love. Beside
it the human sacrifices of golden Chichen-Itza were pale and anemic.
I’m holding out to you the straw of immortality.

SHE-ANGLE

I don’t want to be immortal. I want children.

POET

Oh, well. Then have your children. But don’t, in the name of art and
beauty, don’t have legitimate children. Legitimate children are so
prosy. A poet can’t sing of them.

SHE-ANGLE (_feeling her cheeks_)

Oh! Oh! Why, the idea!

HE-ANGLE

Come, now, that’s going a bit too far! I don’t think you can help us.
In fact, I think everything you’ve said about the most ridiculous
rubbish I ever heard.

POET

Rubbish! Fool! Fools! (_He stalks toward left._) I’m through with you.
Love your damn heads off and marry and have children, dozens of them. I
hope they’re all cross-eyed! Fools!

(_He goes off left angrily_, HE-ANGLE _and_ SHE-ANGLE _sit on their
stools, a picture of resentment and outraged respectability_.)

SHE-ANGLE

I told you so.

HE-ANGLE

What did you tell me?

SHE-ANGLE

I knew he couldn’t help us. A poet! He’s no poet. Fat and bald. Ugh!
I think he ought to be arrested as an impostor. Why, the idea of his
talking about illegit--about--ah--children!

HE-ANGLE

And I thought he was a friend of mine! I always liked poetry, too.

SHE-ANGLE

Deny our love! Live and suffer! I don’t believe he knows what love is.
Or life either. And then those--children!

(_She feels her cheeks again. Pause while both sit thoughtfully._)

HE-ANGLE

Well?

SHE-ANGLE

I didn’t say anything.

HE-ANGLE

Oh!

(_Pause._)

SHE-ANGLE

But what are we to _do_?

HE-ANGLE

I don’t know. This is an awful mess. Maybe Poet is right and we’ll have
to go on as we are--just angles.

SHE-ANGLE

He isn’t right! and I won’t go on just being an angle.

HE-ANGLE

But what are we going to do?

SHE-ANGLE

I’m sure I don’t know--yet. But we’ll find a way.

(_Pause while they both seem to concentrate._)

SHE-ANGLE

I have it!

HE-ANGLE

What?

SHE-ANGLE

Why didn’t we think of it before?

HE-ANGLE

What?

SHE-ANGLE

Why, Prologue! Why don’t we ask Prologue?

HE-ANGLE

That’s right. Why didn’t we?

SHE-ANGLE

Oh, Prologue!

(PROLOGUE, _who has been leaning half asleep on his trumpet, turns to
the_ ANGLES.)

PROLOGUE

Yes?

SHE-ANGLE

We want your help. We need your advice.

PROLOGUE

Oh, no!

SHE-ANGLE

What do you mean?

PROLOGUE

I mean you’re not going to drag me into this mess. I’m a Prologue and
don’t know anything about Angles--any more than I do about playing this
trumpet We Prologues have a lot to contend with these days. They make
us do all sorts of things--even to shifting scenery at times. But so
far they have kept us out of scandals, and I’m not going to start in,
as old as I am, getting into such scrapes.

SHE-ANGLE

But, Prologue, we don’t want you to get into any scrapes. We only want
you to give us advice on how to solve the triangle.

PROLOGUE

Oh, yes, that’s all you want me to do. But say, haven’t I seen plays
before? Haven’t I seen innocent bystanders dragged into such messes
as this, even into the divorce courts, just because of a little good
advice given at the wrong time.

SHE-ANGLE

But this is the right time.

PROLOGUE

How can I be sure of that? Besides, as I said before, I’m the Prologue
and not an information bureau or ways and means committee.

(_He turns back to the side of the proscenium where he has been
standing._)

HE-ANGLE

Don’t give us any advice, Prologue. But haven’t you any suggestions?

PROLOGUE

No!--Why, yes, I’ll give you a suggestion. Why don’t you try the
audience?

HE-ANGLE

The--the audience?

PROLOGUE

Yes. Why don’t you try them? Maybe there is a novelist among them.

SHE-ANGLE

Oh, fine! Maybe there is! Ask them, Prologue, do! I know an Author can
help us!

PROLOGUE (_turning to audience_)

Is there an Author in the audience? (_Pause._) A Novelist?

AUTHOR (_rising somewhere in the audience_)

Yes. I’m a Novelist. (_He comes forward._) I’ve been thinking it
was about time some one with a little brains took a hand in these
proceedings. I’ll be glad to help you.

PROLOGUE

Come right up, Author.

(AUTHOR _goes up on the stage_.)

PROLOGUE (_to_ ANGLES)

Here is your Author.

(_Turns back to his original post._)

AUTHOR

You know, I feel very sorry for you people, not because of the mess
you’re in but because of the way you tried to get out of it.

HE-ANGLE

What do you mean?

AUTHOR

Why, calling on a playwright and a poet. What good did you ever think
they could possibly do you? I’m suspicious of them, particularly
playwrights. I once had a novel, one of my best, adapted for the
stage. (_He throws up his hands._) You should have seen it when that
playwright got through with it! I wouldn’t have recognized it myself.
Only the title remained the same.

SHE-ANGLE

But they’re usually very good in triangles.

AUTHOR (_sniffing_)

Oh, yes. They know how to invent them, but they fail utterly in solving
them satisfactorily. Why, not so long ago a very prominent playwright
put two triangles together and tried to pass it off as a circle, but
they remained triangles. It might be good dialogue, but it’s poor
mathematics.

HE-ANGLE

Do you think you can help us?

AUTHOR

My boy, I’m sure of it. Of course, it’s largely up to you. If you’re
willing to take sound advice, I know I can help you. I’ve solved many
triangles in my time. That’s the kind of novel I have always written,
and I always see to it that there’s a good moral attached. So do you
feel it safe to listen to me?

SHE-ANGLE

Oh, yes! (_To_ HE-ANGLE.) I’m sure he’s going to be able to help us!

AUTHOR

Now then. The first thing you’re to do is to send for your husband and
tell him all about it.

SHE-ANGLE

Tell him! Oh, I can’t do that!

AUTHOR

Yes, you must tell him. Now twenty years ago you would not have
been able to do that, but now--all is different. Twenty years ago
it would have meant a duel or a murder. To-day, however, husbands
are different. I suppose we novelists are really responsible for the
change. Realism has done it. Realism has made men realize that man
and wife are two separate and individual entities. The wife, man now
realizes, has a right to lead her own life as she chooses. And he
accepts it. Realism has done it!

SHE-ANGLE

But my husband doesn’t.

AUTHOR

Doesn’t what?

SHE-ANGLE

Accept it. He doesn’t believe it. He wouldn’t allow it!

AUTHOR

But how do you know unless you try him? I am willing to stake my
reputation as a Novelist that he would be amenable to argument.

SHE-ANGLE

But he hates arguments. I never could even argue with him over the
price of a hat.

AUTHOR

Besides, perhaps he, too, is tired.

SHE-ANGLE

Tired of what?

AUTHOR

Of--of marriage.

SHE-ANGLE

Oh! of marriage. Of me, you mean?

AUTHOR

That is putting it very bluntly. But, since you put it that way--yes.

SHE-ANGLE (_turning to_ HE-ANGLE)

Oh!

HE-ANGLE

See here! What are you trying to insinuate?

AUTHOR

I’m not trying to insinuate anything. My dear man, I am simply
appealing to your sense of justice. It is not unreasonable to conceive
of a mutual feeling of surfeit arising in man and wife. That has
frequently been the case, as you will realize if you read the popular
novel. We novelists were among the first to recognize it. It will soon
be put on the stage.

SHE-ANGLE

I’m sure he isn’t tired of me.

AUTHOR

Of you--probably not. But of marriage and its restrictions--yes,
perhaps.

HE-ANGLE

But, suppose he were tired of marriage. What good would all this be?

AUTHOR

You should be able to come to some arrangement. Divorce, perhaps.

SHE-ANGLE

I hate divorce! It’s so vulgar!

AUTHOR

Oh, not any more. It’s really very smart.

SHE-ANGLE

I don’t like it!

AUTHOR

Well, I don’t know how you’re going to get out of this mess if you
won’t listen to divorce. There’s no chance of your husband’s dying you
told the playwright. There are only two other ways out.

SHE-ANGLE

And what are they?

AUTHOR

Murder and free love. I don’t suppose you’ll commit murder?

SHE-ANGLE (_shrinking_)

Oh, no! Murder my husband!

AUTHOR

It’s not so very bad. Really, murder may be so committed that it is
neither vulgar nor sinful.

SHE-ANGLE

Not sinful!

AUTHOR

Of course not. Murder is not necessarily sinful. It is held to be so
only as a matter of convenience and because people have a naïve way
of speaking of one’s having a right to live. After all, no one has
any real right except to die. Murder is not considered sinful even by
so-called moralists if it be done for a patriotic reason as in war. To
ease your conscience, then, can’t you think of a patriotic reason why
your husband should die? Does he obey the laws?

SHE-ANGLE

Why, yes, I think so. At least as much as any one does. But let’s not
discuss that. I won’t murder him and I won’t have him murdered!

AUTHOR

Well then. Free love?

SHE-ANGLE

But that certainly is sinful!

AUTHOR

Oh, no! How old-fashioned you are!

SHE-ANGLE

Well, I don’t care if I am old-fashioned. I’m not going to do anything
that my conscience says is wrong!

AUTHOR

Well, all I have to say is that you’re a queer pair. You’ve been
unconventional enough to go and fall in love. That does not seem to
you to be wrong, but you balk at divorce, murder, and free love. I’m
sure I don’t see any help for you. What you need is not a Novelist or a
Playwright or a Poet, but a Psychiatrist. Good day!

(_He goes out at left._)

SHE-ANGLE

What a disagreeable man!

HE-ANGLE

Realism did it!

SHE-ANGLE

I don’t believe he’s much of an Author.

HE-ANGLE

Trash is all he writes, probably.

SHE-ANGLE

Free love!

HE-ANGLE

Murder!

(_An_ ACTRESS _rises somewhere in the audience_.)

ACTRESS

Let me help you!

SHE-ANGLE

Who is that?

ACTRESS (_coming toward stage_)

I know I can help you if you’ll let me. I know just how you feel.

(PROLOGUE _assists her to the stage_.)

PROLOGUE

And your name?

ACTRESS

I’m an Actress.

PROLOGUE (_to_ SHE-ANGLE)

She’s an Actress.

SHE-ANGLE (_to_ HE-ANGLE)

She’s an Actress.

HE-ANGLE

An Actress!

ACTRESS (_going to_ SHE-ANGLE _at once sympathetic and patronizing and
always fully realizing that she is going to have an opportunity to hold
the center of the stage_:)

You poor dear, I know how you feel. I know.

SHE-ANGLE

I’ve suffered much.

ACTRESS

I know. I know.

HE-ANGLE

Can you help us?

ACTRESS (_turning to him; every movement is deliberate, studied_)

Yes.

HE-ANGLE

I’m sure you can.

ACTRESS

Yes.

SHE-ANGLE

My husband, you know--

ACTRESS

I know.

SHE-ANGLE

How can you help us?

ACTRESS

Ah, you must be deft. You must be subtle. But not too subtle.

SHE-ANGLE

But, go on!

ACTRESS

It is all so very simple. First you must decide what you want. Do you
want to marry your lover?

SHE-ANGLE

Yes.

ACTRESS

Do you want that most of all?

SHE-ANGLE

Yes, most of all.

ACTRESS

Then you must realize there is only one solution--divorce. As the
Author says it is very smart. It is not vulgar unless the husband gets
it. If the wife gets it, divorce is quite all right. Of course, murder
is all right if you’re a tragedienne. Are you a tragedienne?

SHE-ANGLE

I can’t act!

ACTRESS

Then it must be divorce and you must be the one to obtain it. That is
very simple. Your husband loves you? Yes?

SHE-ANGLE

I’m sure of it!

ACTRESS

Yes. I know! Yes, your husband loves you. You must, however, show him
that your love for him has died, that you love another and that you
must either marry this other man or be his mistress.

SHE-ANGLE

Oh!

ACTRESS

I know how you feel. I know.

SHE-ANGLE

But I can’t do that!

ACTRESS

Oh, yes, you can. You must only be deft. You must act. You must show
him how you suffer.

SHE-ANGLE

But how?

ACTRESS

I shall show you. We shall have a rehearsal now. I shall be you, and
your lover will be your husband. You must watch me carefully. Then you
do as I do.

SHE-ANGLE

Ah, I see.

ACTRESS (_going up toward_ HE-ANGLE)

I shall call him John. It need not be his name, but it will do
in rehearsal. Besides, I like simple names in emotional scenes.
Monosyllables are best. They’re so tense when used alone. (_Turning
again toward_ HE-ANGLE.) You must help me now. I want you to do just
the things and say the things you would if you were really John. John!

HE-ANGLE

Yes, dear.

ACTRESS

I have something to say to you, John dear.

HE-ANGLE

Yes, dear?

(ACTRESS _sits on stool beside_ HE-ANGLE. _She sits impassive, tense._)

ACTRESS

Won’t you sit down?

(HE-ANGLE _sits_.)

ACTRESS

How long have we been married, John?

HE-ANGLE

Why, five years, dear. Why?

ACTRESS

We’ve been very happy, haven’t we, John?

HE-ANGLE

I don’t know what you mean!

ACTRESS

We’ve been happy, haven’t we? That is all.

HE-ANGLE

Yes, dear. But--

ACTRESS

You’ve loved me, John?

HE-ANGLE

Always.

ACTRESS

You still love me, John?

(HE-ANGLE _wavers a little. He feels that this is getting a bit deep._)

ACTRESS

Don’t be bashful. Remember this is only a rehearsal. Put your arms
around me and kiss me. John would.

(HE-ANGLE _is not unwilling, but the presence of_ SHE-ANGLE _disturbs
him somewhat, particularly as the latter is beginning to lose interest
in the technical side of the rehearsal and to resent the liberties the_
ACTRESS _is taking with her lover_.)

ACTRESS

Do as I say or I can’t go on. Do you still love me, John?

HE-ANGLE (_taking her in his arms with a mixture of contentment and
apprehension, he kisses her_)

There, dear. Does that answer your question?

ACTRESS

I’m afraid it does.

HE-ANGLE

Afraid?

ACTRESS

Yes, John, afraid.

HE-ANGLE (_in the spirit of the play_)

But why do you say that?

ACTRESS

Oh, John. I don’t know how I can ever tell you.

HE-ANGLE

Tell me what?

ACTRESS (_parenthetically_)

Oh, you’re doing fine. Tell you that--

HE-ANGLE

Yes?

ACTRESS

Oh, John, I no longer love you!

HE-ANGLE

What?

ACTRESS

Oh, John. It’s true. Kill me! Do anything with me! I don’t deserve your
love! I’m unworthy of you. Kill me!

HE-ANGLE

You don’t love me!

ACTRESS

Kill me. Oh, John, it’s too true, too terribly true. Would to God I had
died before I met you. Then you would be saved this. Kill me, John!

HE-ANGLE (_putting his hands firmly on her shoulders and looking her in
the eyes_)

What do you mean?

ACTRESS (_hanging her head_)

Oh, John, you’re making it very hard for me. I--I love another.

HE-ANGLE

You’re not telling me the truth!

ACTRESS

I never was more serious in my life, John.

HE-ANGLE

You love another!

ACTRESS

I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.

HE-ANGLE

You love another!

ACTRESS

But I love you, too. Honestly, I love you. But in a different sort of
way. I’ll always love you, John. You’ve been so fair to me.

HE-ANGLE (_taking her suddenly in his arms and kissing her
passionately_)

It’s a lie. Darling, say it’s a lie!

(_He kisses her again._ SHE-ANGLE _does not like it. She jumps to her
feet._)

SHE-ANGLE (_coldly_)

That will do!

(HE-ANGLE _and_ ACTRESS _both turn toward her_.)

SHE-ANGLE

That will be enough.

ACTRESS

But we’re not nearly through yet!

SHE-ANGLE

That is what I was afraid of. But I do not think I require any more
instruction. I have learned much already.

ACTRESS

But what about the rest?

SHE-ANGLE

There isn’t going to be any rest.

ACTRESS

What do you mean?

SHE-ANGLE

I mean that I am quite capable of settling my domestic problems without
any assistance from the theatrical profession.

ACTRESS

Why! Why!

SHE-ANGLE

I know. I know.

ACTRESS

Of all the insults! Goodness knows, I didn’t want to interfere in your
business.

SHE-ANGLE

Well, no one asked you to!

ACTRESS

You did. You appealed to the audience.

SHE-ANGLE

I didn’t! All I asked of the audience was a Novelist. I didn’t ask for
a chorus girl.

ACTRESS

A chorus girl! I’ll have you sued for slander, you silly, ignorant
doll, you. A chorus girl! You free-lover! You, you mistress!

(ACTRESS _stalks off right_.)

HE-ANGLE

I don’t see why you did that!

SHE-ANGLE (_sarcastically_)

No, of course you don’t. Certainly not!

HE-ANGLE

She isn’t a chorus girl.

SHE-ANGLE

How do you know she isn’t?

HE-ANGLE

Well, I just know. She didn’t look like one, for one thing.

SHE-ANGLE (_too agreeable_)

I thought she did, but I see I was mistaken. I shall not argue with an
authority.

HE-ANGLE

What do you mean?

SHE-ANGLE

I dare say you know a great deal about chorus girls, and--and
actresses. I can readily see that you are very familiar with the looks
and actions of that kind of people. I understand perfectly now how you
were able to carry your part so well, I--

HE-ANGLE

Stop!

SHE-ANGLE

I shall not stop! What right have you to tell me to stop? As I was
saying before you so rudely lost your temper, I quite realize that in
all probability it was not your first scene with an Actress.

HE-ANGLE

I say--!

SHE-ANGLE

You have said quite enough. Quite too much, in fact. It is all very
plain to me that your intimacy with chorus girls and soubrettes has
stood you in good stead to-day. I am glad to have learned that before I
took some rash step. I am very glad to be able to say that whatever may
be my husband’s faults, he has never frequented stage doors.

HE-ANGLE

What in Heaven’s name has come over you? Are you insane?

SHE-ANGLE

That’s right! Call me names. Strike me! That is all there is left to do!

HE-ANGLE (_he goes up to her and makes her face him_)

You know everything you have said is damned foolishness. You know you
had no basis for such a scene.

SHE-ANGLE (_in a rage_)

No basis! No basis! To see you take another woman, a painted woman
probably from a burlesque chorus, to see you take her into your arms,
burning with passion, your eyes dilated, your cheeks flushed, your
whole being mad with unholy love. No basis, do you say? To see you do
that while still my lover! What would it be if you were married to
me--if you were my husband! Oh, I have been blind! I have a husband
who has at least the grace to carry on his amours behind my back, if
he does carry on any. And I would have changed him for you! Oh, I have
been blind! Go!

HE-ANGLE

But--

SHE-ANGLE

Go! Go! Do not stay another moment! Here comes my husband. I hear him
outside. If you don’t go I shall have him kill you.

HE-ANGLE

Darling--

SHE-ANGLE

Don’t use that word to me! Go!

HE-ANGLE

You must listen.

SHE-ANGLE

I shall scream!

(_The_ HUSBAND-ANGLE _enters_.)

HUSBAND-ANGLE

Hello, Darling. (_To_ HE-ANGLE.) How are you?

SHE-ANGLE

He’s just hurrying away--to meet the dearest actress in the world who
has been here to call.

(HE-ANGLE _gives her an ugly look_.)

HE-ANGLE

Good-by.

SHE-ANGLE (_too sweet_)

Good-by!

HUSBAND-ANGLE

Good-by.

(HE-ANGLE _goes_.)

HUSBAND-ANGLE

I’ve got two seats for a good show to-night, dear. It’s a problem play.
Wonderful actress.

SHE-ANGLE (_kisses him_)

Oh, you darling! I love actresses.


CURTAIN

(PROLOGUE _gathers his trumpet sleepily under his arm. He has been half
asleep during the later action of the play. He looks at the audience in
some confusion and starts to go through the curtains._)

PROLOGUE

I’ve got to hurry or I’ll be an Epilogue. That wasn’t so hard to
settle, was it? Thank you.

(_He goes within the curtains._)


THE END




_Longer Dramas from Appleton’s List_


THE SEA WOMAN’S CLOAK and NOVEMBER EVE

_By Amélie Rives (Princess Troubetzkoy)_

Out of the legends and folklore of Ireland and her own particular
fantasy she has made two plays as Irish as anything of Yeats’s,
Synge’s, Lady Gregory’s. As individual. As enchanting.

=The Sea Woman’s Cloak= (3 m. 3 w. and others.). =November Eve= (8 m. 8
w. and others.). $2.00.


MARCH HARES

_By Harry Wagstaff Gribble_

A satire in three acts. First presented in New York at the Bijou
Theatre, later at the Punch and Judy in the summer of 1921, later
revived at the Little Theatre. “It offers,” says _Heywood Broun_, “some
of the most agile dialogue that our theatre has known and reveals its
author as the possessor of a rare gift for nonsense. And his nonsense
is not just for the sheer trick of the thing, but molded with satirical
intent.” _New York Evening Telegram_: “A delightful work, as good as
Oscar Wilde at his best, sharply defined, brilliant, and deliciously
amusing.” $2.00.


GOAT ALLEY

_By Ernest Howard Culbertson_

_Introduction by Ludwig Lewisohn_

A drama of Negro life in three acts. First presented at the Bijou
Theatre, New York City, in June, 1921. (7 m. 4 w.). _New York Tribune_:
“A stunning tragedy. In the characterization there are fine perception
and vivid writing. There is heartbreak in this play.” _Oakland
Tribune_: “Splendidly and heroically written. A play to meditate over.”
$1.75.


THE SUN CHASER

_By Jeannette Marks_

_Author of “Three Welsh Plays”_

The search for happiness is the theme of this play, which is both
realistic and--in the poignant figure of Ambrose Clark, who drunkenly,
lamely chases the sun--subtly symbolic (11 m. 3 w. 4 g. 1 b.). _John
Barrymore_: “I have read ‘The Sun Chaser.’ I think it has great beauty
and a curious sense of mood and imminent vague things. I also think it
brilliantly characterized.” $1.75.


  D. APPLETON AND COMPANY      PUBLISHERS




TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES


Page 37: exclamation mark added after “I no longer love you”.

Due to technical reasons, a symbol on the title page could not be
reproduced in this text edition. It is represented in this edition as
“¤”.

Hyphenation of “three-cornered” normalised.



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