Within the Gates

by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

SCENE II.

It is night on a street in the West End of the city. At the right stands a church, dimly lighted for a choir to practice. An anthem on the organ can be heard. At the left appears Dr. Thorne’s house, viewed from the outside. It has high stone steps, and lights are in the window. One window on the ground floor has the curtain raised. The interior of the library can be seen through the window,—glimpses of the books, the pictures, the table, the lamp with the white lace shade. The room is empty. Into it—

Enter Mrs. Thorne. (She is dressed in
deep black. Her face is drawn with
grief. Her hands are clasped in front
of her. She paces the room drearily.
She is alone. She seats herself by the
table; tries to read; lays the book
down, and rises; paces the room.)

[Exit Mrs. Thorne.

Enter Dr. Thorne at the far end of the
street near the church. (He is dressed
as before. He is still pale. His manner
has increased in agitation, but a
new resolution gives more firmness to
his wasted countenance. He speaks,
meditatively.)

Dr. Thorne. After all, there is another life. I really did not think it. (Stops and passes his hand over his eyes; muses.) God knows—if there is a God—how it is with me. If I have never done anything, or been anything, or felt anything that was fit to last, I have loved one woman, and her only—and thought high thoughts for her, and felt great emotions for her, and I could forget myself for her sake—and I would have had joy to suffer for her, and I’ve been a better man for love of her. And I have loved her,—oh, I have so loved her that ten thousand deaths could not murder that living love! (Falters.) And I spoke to her—I said to her—like any low and brutal fellow, any common wife-tormentor—I went from her dear presence to this. (Brokenly.) ... And here there is neither speech nor language. Neither earth nor heaven, nor my love ... nor my shame ... can give my famished eyes the sight of her dear face,—nor my sealed lips the power to say, Forgive!

(The organ can be heard from the church.)

Dr. Thorne (without noticing the anthem). I will not bear it. No—no. I will not! I will go to her! (Starts to rush up the street, whose familiar precincts he seems for the first time to recognize.) Why, there is my own house! She can’t be two rods away. I wonder if a dead man can get into his own home? Helen? (His feet lag heavily; he moves like one who is wading in water. He makes the motions of one who withstands a strong blast or an invisible force. He is beaten back. Suddenly he raves.) You are playing with me! You torture a miserable man. Who and what are you? Show me what I have to fight, and let me wrestle for my liberty! Though I am a ghost, let me wrestle like a man! Let me to my wife! Give way and let me seek her! (Slowly recedes, as if beaten back; bows his head. The man sobs.)

Choir from the church (chant).

“God is a Spirit.
God is a Spirit.
And they that worship Him”—

(Choir breaks off. The organ sounds on.)

(Dr. Thorne seems to listen, but with a kind of anger. He slowly recedes, as if pushed back.)

[Exit Dr. Thorne.

Enter the Veiled Woman. (She stands
mutely and wretchedly. Watches the
house. Wrings her hands, but makes
no sound.)
Enter Mrs. Thorne. (Within the house;
can be seen plainly from the street
through the window. She advances
and draws the shade still higher;
stands close to the window, pressing
her hands against the sides of her
eyes; looks out.)

(The Veiled Woman shrinks at the sight of Mrs. Thorne.)

[Exit the Woman.

Reënter Dr. Thorne at the other end of the street. (He speaks shrewdly.) It is nearer at this end. And perhaps, if I didn’t have to get by that church— (Hurries up opposite the house. Suddenly he sees her.) Oh, there’s Helen! God! It is my wife. I—see—my—wife. (Brokenly.) Dear Helen! (Pushes toward the house. At the foot of his own steps he falters and falls, still as if beaten back. He struggles as a man would struggle for his life. The veins stand out on his face and on his clinched hands. He cries out.) I’m coming, Helen! It is only I, my girl. Don’t be frightened, dear! I wonder would she be afraid of me? Perhaps it would shock her. Live people and dead people don’t seem to understand each other. But I’ll risk it. Helen would go alone and lie down alive in a grave at midnight, and never look over her shoulder—if she thought she could see me. I know Helen. I’ll try again. (He pushes and urges his way onward. But the invisible Power restrains him, as before. He stretches his arms towards the lighted window.) Here I am, Helen! I can’t get any farther, somehow.... Come and open the door for me, my girl,—the way you used to do. Won’t you, Helen? With the boy in your arms? Perhaps if you opened the door,—I could get in. I ... (After a silence.) I won’t stay very long. I won’t trouble you any, Helen. I know I don’t belong there any more. I won’t intrude. (Wistfully.) Helen! I was cruel to you. I have been ashamed of myself. I thought if I could get in long enough to say— (Reflects.) Mary Fayth went back to see Fred. Nothing prevented her—

(Mrs. Thorne throws open the window. Leans out and looks about.)

(Maggie is seen moving about the lighted room.)

(People in the street pass.)

(Mrs. Thorne hastily shuts the window.)

Dr. Thorne (piteously). Helen!

(The organ sounds from the church.)

Dr. Thorne (turns suddenly, as if turning on an antagonist). What art Thou that dost withstand me? I am a dead and helpless man. What wouldst Thou with me? Where gainest Thou thy force upon me? Art Thou verily that ancient Myth that men were wont to call Almighty God? (He lifts his face to the sky; holds up his hands as if he held up a question or an argument.)

Choir from the church:—

“God is a Spirit.
God is a Spirit.
They that worship Him
Must worship Him in Spirit”—

Maggie (opens the door. The lighted hall is seen behind). There’s nobody here, Mrs. Thorne.

(Mrs. Thorne, wearing a slight, white shawl which falls from her as she moves, comes to the open door; motions Maggie away.)

[Exit Maggie.

Mrs. Thorne (softly). Esmerald? He might be out there in the dark. Who knows what spirits do? Esmerald? Would God that I had died for you! Oh, my dear!

Dr. Thorne. Helen!

Mrs. Thorne. If he were there he would answer me if it cost him his living soul.

Dr. Thorne. Helen, I answer you, for I am a living soul. Helen! (He struggles mightily; crawls up the steps, reaches with the tips of his fingers the fringe of her white shawl, which has fallen down the steps, and lies there unnoticed.) Helen, look down! Down. (He clutches the white fringe to his lips. He kisses it wildly.)

(Mrs. Thorne lifts her face to the sky.)

Dr. Thorne. I can’t get any higher,—not any nearer, dear.

Mrs. Thorne. There is no one here. (Weeping.) There is nothing here. (She shuts the door slowly and reluctantly; remembers the shawl, which she draws in with her.)

(Dr. Thorne clings to the shawl in vain. Moaning, he kisses the doorsteps of his own home where the garment had touched them.)

End of Scene II.