THE FIRST ACT
The study and laboratory of Doctor Addington Agnus, Rothlyn, Long Island.
Entrances: Folding-doors to laboratory; door to garden; spiral stairway; door to hallway.
A long, low white room: white-panelled, white book-shelves, furniture, etc.; upholstered in light yellow and light blue chintz.
Garden seen through two windows on either side of upper door. Folding-doors to laboratory closed.
A sunny day in early winter: late morning. The sun is almost blinding on the white room and the highly polished brasses.
A bright wood-fire burns.
As the curtain rises: a knocking on the garden door, which continues. The knob rattles. The door gives way, almost precipitating Thomas Vanillity on his face.
Vanillity is a college professor, lean, spare, ascetic-looking; wears a dark gray English walking suit; tailed coat; derby hat. Has typical sad Englishman’s moustache, a “drooper”; closely shaven lantern jaws. Carries neatly folded umbrella.
VANILLITY (evidently astounded at unlocked door)
Well: upon my word—upon my word! (Picks up hat, umbrella, etc., which have fallen, and straightens himself) I wonder if he’s in? (A slight explosion from laboratory; he drops articles again) Yes, he’s in! (Picks up articles a second time; straightens tie, etc., in glass; twirls moustache; then goes to fire; stretches out hands) A-a-ah!
[A second knocking on garden door.
VANILLITY (going to folding-doors and calling into laboratory) Oh, Addington, Addington, my boy! (A second explosion from laboratory. Vanillity goes to door, admitting Judge Hippolyte Critty: grossly but respectably fat, with an unctuous smile and a walrus-tusk moustache)
JUDGE CRITTY (smiling genially)
Ah! Professor! Professor! Come to claim all the credit of your pupil’s great discovery? (Waves hand toward laboratory)
VANILLITY (with painful humility)
I did nothing, Judge, nothing. A man like Dr. Agnus would succeed without my teaching or anyone’s. (Shows by his attitude some servility to the Judge)
JUDGE CRITTY (warming hands at fire)
Well, he thinks you’re responsible. “If it wasn’t for Professor Vanillity,” he keeps saying—
VANILLITY
I never knew so painfully modest a boy—
JUDGE CRITTY (they are both at fire)
Boy—you’ve hit it—boy! The great scientist (bows to laboratory doors) retains all his boyish shyness and lack of confidence. He even (preening himself) gives me credit for part of his success. Because once I said the time was coming when science would keep us alive forever. He says that put him on the track.
VANILLITY (with melancholy satisfaction, looking toward laboratory) Immortality! No more building up just for Time to tear down!
JUDGE CRITTY (in a smoking-room manner, ribald)
And making us independent of women!
VANILLITY (shocked)
My dear Judge!
JUDGE CRITTY
Of good women, I mean. They are the only dangerous kind. We learned how to handle the bad ones a few thousand years ago!
VANILLITY
My dear Judge!
JUDGE CRITTY (going back to the days of boyish confidences) Tommy: it’s my profession to be a hypocrite. That’s why I enjoy talking to you. Being absolutely dependent on me, you can’t give me away. (Laughs foxily) If I didn’t have you, I’d become a Catholic. I simply can’t keep all my cleverness to myself. That’s why most people enjoy confession. And so I say again: the good women are the only dangerous kind! (Goes to cellarette) Have a drink! There! (Pours)
VANILLITY
My dear Lytey—
JUDGE CRITTY
Nonsense, down with it! I need you today, and when you’re dead sober, you’ve got a conscience. (Drinking with him) Have a cigar! Take it! (Lights cigars for Vanillity and himself)
[Vanillity’s face brightens as drink and cigar affect him.
JUDGE CRITTY
Yes, sir! The only dangerous kind! That’s why I’m sorry for that poor fellow! (Nods toward laboratory)
VANILLITY
Ssh! Ssh!
JUDGE CRITTY
Pooh! He doesn’t know anybody’s on earth when he’s working—poor devil!
VANILLITY
Poor devil? Poor fellow? Who just won the Nobel prize—the most discussed scientist in the world?
JUDGE CRITTY
And a year from now forgotten!
VANILLITY
Absurd! (Seeing the Judge’s solemn look) Why?
JUDGE CRITTY
In love!
VANILLITY
With a very sweet girl—a very ambitious girl!
JUDGE CRITTY
Ambitious for herself—yes.
VANILLITY
But—
JUDGE CRITTY (looks at watch)
She’ll be here any minute now: was to meet me here quarter to. I came before time to find you; knew you’d be the first to congratulate him! Another drink?
VANILLITY
My dear Lytey—
[Judge Critty forces it on him; Vanillity’s smile becomes a beam.
JUDGE CRITTY
She’s bringing John Magnus and William Tromper with her.
VANILLITY (dazed)
John Magnus!
JUDGE CRITTY
And William Tromper!
VANILLITY (dazed)
John Magnus!!
JUDGE CRITTY
And William Tromper’s the general manager of the Magnus Steel Works! He’s going to offer our friend (waving toward laboratory) one hundred thousand dollars a year! Chief chemist of the works!
VANILLITY
One hundred thousand dollars a year? My God!! (A silence; changed tone; nods toward laboratory) But he won’t take it!
JUDGE CRITTY
He will take it. That’s your job!
VANILLITY (starts)
Mine?
JUDGE CRITTY
And mine. To persuade him!
VANILLITY (dazed)
Fanny wants him to?
JUDGE CRITTY
Yes! And so do you.
VANILLITY
I? Never! (Springs to his feet)
JUDGE CRITTY
Have another drink!
VANILLITY
My dear Lytey—
JUDGE CRITTY
Take it! (Having poured it, he forces it on Vanillity again) And so do you! (With emphasis)
VANILLITY
It’s wicked! It’s sinful!
JUDGE CRITTY
Have—
VANILLITY
No; I won’t have another drink! I know you can smother every good feeling in me with a little liquor—
JUDGE CRITTY
Believe me: not a little!
VANILLITY
But this I won’t do; I will not; I won’t! To stop a man on the trail of immortality? No! No! No!
JUDGE CRITTY
I said good women were the only dangerous kind, didn’t I?
VANILLITY
She wants it? Why?
JUDGE CRITTY
For the reason that nine hundred and ninety-nine Americans do anything “to be as good as anybody.” One hundred thousand dollars a year is the income on two million. It will enable her to gratify every social ambition. She’s ambitious: for herself—I said that, too.
[Vanillity falls into a stupefied rage; his hand sneaks toward decanter; a horn is heard off stage.
JUDGE CRITTY (at window)
Here they are! (Swiftly) Now, mind! (Fiercely) D’you understand?
VANILLITY
I will not!
JUDGE CRITTY
You will! And I’ll tell you why. Magnus put me where I am, and he’ll put me on the Supreme Bench the first vacancy. Then I’ll put you into the first College Presidency! Now, d’you understand?
[A knock at the door.
VANILLITY
Man, it’s awful. It’s sacrilege.
JUDGE CRITTY
It’s life. Unfortunately. But life just the same. We didn’t make life. But we have to live it. Here! Have another drink. (Pours it)
[A second knock is heard; Vanillity hesitates over the drink.
JUDGE CRITTY (impatiently whispering)
Come on—come on!
[Vanillity gulps it and sits disconsolate. Judge Critty opens the door for Fanny Felix, her mother, Mrs. Felix, John Magnus, and William Tromper. Fanny is, par excellence, the well-bred, cold, detached, sure-of-herself American girl of the upper class, very lace-y and lingerie-y. Mrs. Felix looks almost as juvenile; she has less dignity; her coat-collar and tie might be a man’s; her smart hat is feminine enough, and so are her small, high-heeled shoes. John Magnus has an air and an eyeglass; wears a morning coat, vest, and trousers of light gray, and a gray top-hat to match; needs only a pair of binoculars slung over his shoulder to be attired for the races. William Tromper is the vulgar, pig-headed, ignorant, self-made American business man. His small pig-like eyes show sullen hatred, an animal’s cunning, and a savage’s determination. He is continually ready to assert authority over supposed inferiors and equality with superiors: the breed that has made America infamous. He is dressed in that stiff supposed-to-be-correct fashion that marks such people: a suit of expensive but ugly, hard-faced cloth, pressed into knife-like creases about the lapels and trousers; a shining white waistcoat, starched and creased; a hard-boiled shirt; a mathematically perfect rhomboid of a sausage-like necktie; shining, creaky laced shoes of patent leather, etc. When the party enters, and during the first few words of the following conversation, Magnus’s valet takes their heavy motoring coats.
MAGNUS
Here before us, Judge? (Shakes hands)
MRS. FELIX (to Vanillity, shaking hands)
The chauffeur let me drive! Glorious!
FANNY (ditto)
Yes, your hands won’t be fit to be seen for a week.
JUDGE CRITTY (speaking over his shoulder while shaking hands with the women) I don’t think Professor Vanillity ever had the pleasure of meeting you, Mr. Magnus.
MAGNUS (reprovingly)
I have not had that honor. (Shakes hands) Professor—Mr. Tromper—
TROMPER (in his best middle-class behavior)
Pleased to meet you, Professor. Pleased to see you again, Judge.
JUDGE CRITTY (urbanely)
Just had a little talk with my old friend here; he shares our opinion, Mr. Magnus.
MAGNUS
I do not know that I hold any opinion on the subject, Judge Critty. I came along simply to please the young lady.
VANILLITY (with a ray of hope and in a tone slightly thickened by drink) Then, Mr. Magnus—you don’t wholly believe in the sacrifice of a career for money? (Magnus frowns and looks crushingly at Judge Critty)
JUDGE CRITTY
The Professor is inquiring as to your views, Mr. Magnus. (Looking hard at Vanillity) His own are fixed—
TROMPER
Sacrifice, did I hear you say, Professor? A young fellow gets an offer of a fortune a year and you talk about sacrifice. He hasn’t had any career yet.
VANILLITY (with spirit)
The Nobel prize.
TROMPER (sneers)
Forty thousand dollars for—how many years’study and work—
FANNY
Dr. Agnus is thirty-two—
TROMPER
Say twenty-five years’schooling and work to make forty thousand dollars—that ain’t much of a career? I made that much long before his age.
MAGNUS
The case is different here. Yours can be no criterion. You married probably on less than Dr. Agnus’s schoolboy allowance—
TROMPER
Grew up together, we did. She worked and I worked. To a man that wants comforts, it’s cheaper, marrying.
MAGNUS (smiling)
Showing just how far apart the cases are. The young lady here (nods toward Fanny) does not make marriage cheaper.
FANNY (correctly)
Really, Mr. Magnus—
MAGNUS
I withdraw, with apologies.
FANNY
But don’t you want Addington to do this?
MAGNUS
I haven’t been conscious of wanting anything these many years, Fanny.
MRS. FELIX (smiling)
You don’t need to be, John. You lift your eyebrows and people hustle. You get what you want before you’re conscious of wanting it. But you do want Dr. Agnus to take his offer (points to Tromper), don’t you?
MAGNUS
Do I, Tromper?
TROMPER
Well, sir—
MRS. FELIX
He means, shall he tell the truth?
MAGNUS
The lady wishes you to tell the truth, Tromper.
TROMPER
Well, sir—
MRS. FELIX
Take your time. A business man can’t speak the truth so quickly. That takes practice.
TROMPER (to Magnus)
Well, sir, if what you said about the young doctor is true—
FANNY (triumphantly)
And it is true. I told him, myself.
TROMPER
That one chemical discovery of his alone will save the mills—I wouldn’t undertake to say how much—that is, if he can do it!
FANNY
He can!
MAGNUS
Well?
FANNY
Well? (Her eyes turn toward the laboratory)
MAGNUS
He is in apparently. (To the others) We are all agreed upon the matter?
JUDGE CRITTY (hastily)
I can answer for Professor Vanillity and myself.
FANNY
And I for mother!
MRS. FELIX
I think it is a shame, Fanny.
MAGNUS
Apparently Tromper answers for me.
JUDGE CRITTY
I think we can convince the young man where his duty lies—
MRS. FELIX
I wish I could convince the lot of you where your duty lies! Can’t you see that all this comes from not giving women the vote long ago?
FANNY
Mother, dear!—exercise your monomania at any other time than this!
MAGNUS (to Mrs. Felix, amused)
Really?
MRS. FELIX
Really! When a woman is allowed to figure out her duty to the nation, she’ll want her husband to give it his best, instead of giving his best to her.
FANNY
What nonsense, mother! A man’s first duty is to his home—
MRS. FELIX
Give them the vote, and they’ll sacrifice the home to make the nation.
MAGNUS (seated, crossing legs)
Ladies, proceed! This is strangely interesting to me.
MRS. FELIX
It will be more than interesting to you when we win, John Magnus. Why do you control the money-market of America? Because women, having no interest in business, urge their men to make as much money as they can. They can do this only by taking advantage of other people’s weakness; not realizing that, if they do this to weaker people, stronger men will do it to them. And so it’s dog eat dog, and as you’re the biggest one in the kennel you eat them all—
FANNY
Mother! Are you losing all your manners?
MAGNUS
Thanks for making me a big dog anyhow, Loo—But how would women voting change all this?
FANNY
Oh, mother!—please!
MRS. FELIX
Why, as soon as women realize that modern laws of business, applied to the home, would make every man a thief and every woman a prostitute, they’ll stop urging their husbands to make more than the next man—
MAGNUS
Loo! I hereby subscribe any reasonable sum you say to the cause of suffrage—thereby planning my own downfall!—
MRS. FELIX
Or showing your contempt!—Well! you’re amusing anyhow, John Magnus. If somebody could make you take things seriously, you’d be as great a man as your subsidized newspapers say you are—
JUDGE CRITTY
Really, my dear Mrs. Felix;—even the hysterical newspapers admit Mr. Magnus is a great man!
MAGNUS
My dear press-agent—we are in the presence of my friends, not of the public. You may consider yourself off duty.
MRS. FELIX
No man can be selfish and great. Mr. Magnus only amuses himself by playing a game with the public. But how he can be amused by winning games from his inferiors, I don’t know. That’s the kink in his greatness.
MAGNUS
I have just begun to realize their inferiority, Loo. That’s why the game begins to bore me—
MRS. FELIX
Start teaching them instead of beating them, then.
MAGNUS
Anything to get back my interest in life! How shall I begin?
MRS. FELIX
By endowing that brilliant boy in there to carry on his search for immortality—give him some of your useless millions.
FANNY
Mother! He isn’t a beggar. He can give himself and me everything we need by work.
MRS. FELIX
Yes, but can he give the world everything—
TROMPER
He can give the world more iron rails for railroads; more armor-plate for battleships—
MRS. FELIX
More money for Magnus, you mean. Railroads and battleships never made anybody wiser or happier—
VANILLITY
Oh, really, Mrs. Felix—travel—
MRS. FELIX
Whisking past interesting places at a mile a minute isn’t travelling. That’s moving pictures for the rich. (To Magnus) John, with your money translated into real power—not petty authority—you’ll go down to history as big a man as the boy in there—your name linked with his—
JUDGE CRITTY
Pardon me, Mrs. Felix; his name linked with Mr. Magnus.
MRS. FELIX
No. The boy is a fool at everything except his work. But his wisdom in that is greater than all of yours, John Magnus.
[Judge Critty lifts his hands, about to protest.
MAGNUS
If he can make men immortal, certainly—
[Judge Critty subsides.
MRS. FELIX
Well, at twenty-nine he’s made animals’hearts and lungs immortal. In fifty years, endowed with millions—
[Magnus nods.
MRS. FELIX
You do see, don’t you? Now, will you bury that talent in a vulgar manufactory—
TROMPER (offended)
Vulgar! Why, some of our men come to work in their own automobiles.
MRS. FELIX
Prosaic manufactory, then. (To Magnus) Remember, when you bury him, you bury your own chance to be a great man! Whoever heard of a mere money-maker in history unless as the patron of artists, writers, or scientists?
MAGNUS
Loo, I’ve a good mind to make you marry me! I believe you’d make life interesting again—
MRS. FELIX
You’d have to change a good many of your ways before you can do that. I admire your brains, but what’s the sense of having them when they aren’t put to any good use? Will you endow the boy? (Nods toward laboratory)
MAGNUS
Yes.
MRS. FELIX
A few more answers like that, and I’ll say “yes” to you.
MAGNUS
I’ll endow him—to please you. But I demand interest on my investment. I’ll build the finest workshop a scientist ever had: give him ten, twenty, a hundred assistants; the most renowned scientists in the world, no matter what they cost.—He can spend any amount on whatever he needs in his work. But I’ll have no young society-man business—
[Fanny starts and her expression grows sullen.
MAGNUS
He’ll stay here, on Long Island. And he’ll spend no more on himself than he needs to live decently. If I sacrifice millions, he must sacrifice something—
FANNY
What do you mean by living decently. (Biting her lips) The way you live?
MAGNUS
No, that’s living extravagantly. (Smiling)
FANNY
Mother, Mr. Magnus has just been joking at your expense.
MRS. FELIX
I see no joke.
FANNY
Addington was giving up his work for my sake—our home’s sake. Mr. Magnus hasn’t changed that any.
MRS. FELIX
Addington has only a few thousand a year income. Handicapped that way, he might never fully succeed in his work. Mr. Magnus makes it impossible for him to fail.
FANNY
And meanwhile live in this poky seacoast village; ten miles from a railroad; not half a dozen nice families near us—
MAGNUS
A motor will get you to New York after dinner, in time for the theatre, the opera, or a dance—
MRS. FELIX
Of course, you’d keep a small flat in New York.
MAGNUS
Oh, anything reasonable—say, fifteen thousand a year for personal expenses—
FANNY (aghast)
Fifteen thousand! (Reproachfully to Mrs. Felix) You see now, mother!
MRS. FELIX
See what?
FANNY (exasperated)
Why, my gowns, my little expenses come to twenty-five hundred, and I don’t have half enough—not a quarter enough. I won’t—I’ll live in the right places and know the right people and do the right things—or I won’t marry—
MRS. FELIX
Silly places—ignorant people—selfish things—
FANNY
Mr. Magnus, it wasn’t very nice of you!
MAGNUS (to Mrs. Felix)
People would much rather do what they like than what we like—
MRS. FELIX
They must be taught to like what’s best for the world. Fanny—do you mean you’ll deliberately spoil Addington’s career? Refuse this great chance?
TROMPER
Business is business, Mrs. Felix. Your daughter would make a good business woman.
MRS. FELIX (to Fanny)
I hope that last remark shows you how petty your conduct is.
FANNY
Live on Long Island out of the season? Have a poky flat in town and one servant? Never entertain? Never meet worth-while people? Be out of it altogether? I’m better off unmarried!
MRS. FELIX (alarmed)
Don’t say that!
VANILLITY
You have the man you love, Miss Felix.
FANNY
If the man I love doesn’t love me well enough to make some sacrifices for my sake—
VANILLITY
But the same applies to you—
FANNY
Women sacrifice enough when they surrender their liberty—when they take on the duties of marriage—
MRS. FELIX
But you said you didn’t intend to have more than one child, anyhow—
FANNY (shocked)
Mother!
MRS. FELIX (to Tromper)
Will you pardon us just a moment, Mr. Tromper? (Shows him into the hallway and closes the door) You others don’t matter, knowing us as well as you do. Now, Fanny, what do you mean?
FANNY
The duties of a wife—
MRS. FELIX
Don’t hide behind phrases.
FANNY
If you don’t know, mother, it’s too late for you to learn.
MRS. FELIX
Well, I’ll tell you what my duties as a wife were: spending more than my husband could get decently; making him overwork to pay my extravagances; keeping him until four in the morning at silly affairs, knowing he must work while I slept it off; flirting with every idle attractive man I met, letting him think I was a fragile flower plucked by a hand of a savage who could not appreciate my fairy fragrance! Those—and neglecting my one child until she grew up to be an encyclopædia of all a woman should not be—those were my wifely duties!
FANNY
Mother! You are shocking everybody!
MAGNUS
Not me, Loo!
MRS. FELIX
If I had brought you up properly instead of leaving you to snobbish servants and fashionable incubators, you might be some man’s blessing instead of curse! Plain words, Fanny! May they start you thinking and keep you from ruining the mind and killing the body of some good man like your father, who died a bankrupt, and—though our fashionable physician friends made it look otherwise—a suicide! (To the others)—All of you knew this?
MAGNUS
Yes—
[Vanillity bows his head.
JUDGE CRITTY (clearing his throat)
Why—
FANNY (tears in her voice)
Mother, you are brutal! Brutal! Brutal!
MRS. FELIX
No. You are going to be.
FANNY
I believe you hate me.
MRS. FELIX
I hate myself when I see what I was yesterday in you today. I hate myself for letting that yesterday live in you instead of killing it when you were a child. I only saw myself as I was just before your father decided to finish things. Knowing he would lose me anyhow, he told me how fatal his love for me had been. “A beautiful poisonous orchid,” he called me—(breaks down) Fanny, Fanny, Fanny!
FANNY (coldly)
Mother, don’t make a scene!
MRS. FELIX (drying her eyes)
Useless—useless—
MAGNUS (rising)
It was all my fault. I should never have made the offer—
MRS. FELIX
It was the first real thing you ever did.
MAGNUS
I mean the first offer—the selfish one—the burying one—
MRS. FELIX
Cancel it!
MAGNUS
It is cancelled!
FANNY (almost murderously)
Mother, when we get home, I will pack and go to Aunt Clara’s. In the future please don’t concern yourself about me any more than about any other young woman of your acquaintance.—Shall we go?
MRS. FELIX
But the boy in there—
FANNY
No need to disturb him. He is busy, and no doubt happy—I will break the bad news in a letter.
MRS. FELIX
You break the engagement?
FANNY
Oh, no, indeed! He’ll soon find some other steel manufacturer or somebody of the sort to offer him just as much.
MAGNUS (quieting Mrs. Felix’s frantic interrogation)
I see—the bad news is breaking my word?
[Fanny nods.
MAGNUS
You told him, and he accepted?
FANNY
I talked to him for an hour over the telephone this morning—
MRS. FELIX
He accepted—so easily—
FANNY
Easily!—I told him he must either accept or lose me—and rang off. Two minutes later he was frantically accepting—
MAGNUS
You should have told us that and saved argument.
FANNY
I wanted you—all of you—to make argument—good argument—so that he would see it was for the best and not sulk and grieve afterwards. (Angrily) Mother promised she would not interfere.
MRS. FELIX
It was thinking of poor Harry did it.
FANNY
Please do not refer to father again—now that you’ve shattered all my ideals about him—
MRS. FELIX
Ideals! Fanny, Fanny!
MAGNUS (to Mrs. Felix)
If the boy accepted so readily, I think perhaps, Loo, it would be an injustice to cancel that first offer—
FANNY (earnestly)
Mr. Magnus—please—don’t—
MAGNUS
I suppose Tromper—my good faithful beef-eating Tromper—will spread the report that I’m losing my mind if I do—
MRS. FELIX
Great men shouldn’t care, John. The mob always think greatness is madness.
FANNY (impatiently)
Mother—
MRS. FELIX
I only wish there was some one to save the poor boy from you, Fanny—I do, indeed!
[A ring is heard at the door and Vanillity goes to open it. Noel Onfroy enters. He has pointed beard, twirling moustache, pointed hands, hair cut en brosse; wears black velvet jacket, rich red tie, riding trouserss with white Bedford cords, black patent-leather boots; bare-headed; he is smoking a pipe.
MAGNUS
I intended running in on you in a moment, my boy—
ONFROY (nodding to all)
Where is the Chub? (Nods toward laboratory) Elixir-of-lifing? (With real pleasure) How are you, Charlotte Corday? (Shakes Mrs. Felix’s hand) Where do you buy those pink cheeks? I couldn’t paint better ones myself.
MRS. FELIX
These aren’t painted—they’re anger.
ONFROY
With Clarissa Henbane, as usual?
FANNY
Please don’t take liberties, Mr. Onfroy.
ONFROY
When I take liberties with you, Lydia Languish, I condescend. (Pointedly turning his back) Anger?
MAGNUS (chuckling)
And women love him for it; they love him, the coxcomb! They used to pay him five thousand dollars, less for their portraits than for the slangings he gave them—(this while Mrs. Felix explains to Onfroy in undertone)
FANNY (pale with rage)
Mr. Magnus, please don’t include me in your generalities—I am not like other girls—
[Mrs. Felix finishes explaining.
ONFROY (turning)
That one remark proves you are, dear Lady Disdain. It is one of the ninety-and-nine banalities that make up what the average young woman calls her opinions. Another is the following remark addressed to men who are sane about women: “Ah, wait until you meet the right one!”
MAGNUS (still chuckling)
They love it—love it! Fanny pretends not to; but that’s because she knows he’s married and she can’t get him. If the boy in there treated you as this coxcomb does my daughter, you wouldn’t mind living on nothing a year in the Sahara Desert.
FANNY
Mr. Magnus—
MAGNUS
Oh, I know—Olive was all you are, Fanny, and more. Then along comes the coxcomb. In three weeks she’s telling me he says he can’t afford to marry her—and won’t I please settle a dowry on them so that he can give up portrait painting where all the women are wild about him—marry her—and settle down to art for art’s sake.
ONFROY
I’ll say this for you, Ivan the Terrible: you were game; took your medicine standing up; came across with the dowry like a little man, thereby earning the thanks of every true lover of art. No more pot-boilers, no more portraits, no more demnition fool chromos for the demnition fool public! You’ve got yourself into history, Kubla Khan. You will live as my patron.
MAGNUS
The way we poor financiers are patronized! It’s the second time I’ve been told that this morning—
ONFROY (to Mrs. Felix)
You’ve been praising me, Joan of Arc?
MRS. FELIX
The thought of you hasn’t crossed my mind in weeks, Sir Egotist.
ONFROY
Oh, the Chub? (Glancing at laboratory) Right, too! (To Magnus) Endow him, Governor. The other thing is damnable—downright damnable. I’ll say this—and me saying it means a lot—I’m nobody compared to him. (Hastily) Not personally! I should have said: “Art’s nothing to his sort of science” (To Fanny) One little bit of pink and white prettiness stopping the greatest thing science ever tackled!
FANNY (goes to the Judge, stopping her ears while Onfroy talks; then tearfully) Judge Critty, you’re the only one with the least chivalry. Why should I be abused so? Because I want my husband to have some pleasure in life? Instead of frowsing in smelly chemicals all day—risking his life—
VANILLITY
Oh, no, my dear Miss Felix! Oh, no! (Eagerly) No risk!—Not the slightest! It’s as peaceful, as harmless as—as—
[A succession of sharp reports like pistol-shots ring out. The folding-doors are thrown back and H. Addington Agnus stumbles in backward and sits down, staring blankly, seeing nothing. Smoke arises from the laboratory. As it clears away, Agnus rushes back again, examines something through a microscope.
FANNY (sharply)
Addington, stop making yourself ridiculous. (She goes into the laboratory and shakes him)
AGNUS (comes to, as one who has been in a trance)
My own—my darling! (Embraces her)
FANNY (wriggling)
Addington! There are peo—(muffled by kiss)—ple here, I tell you—(Releases herself)
AGNUS (not seeing anyone else, abstractedly)
Just had a most successful discovery—chemical—out of my line, rather—but—(Seizes and kisses her again)
FANNY
Addington! Don’t you see there are visitors?
[Agnus turns and almost collapses; then he turns away from the rest again.
FANNY (taking hold of him)
Mr. Magnus—
AGNUS
Oh, Lord!
FANNY (pulls him out, protesting)
Mr. Magnus—and—
ONFROY
Hello, Chub! How’s the Chub? Celebrated Chub, eh?
[Agnus has, in his embarrassment, been going from one to another, shaking hands.
| JUDGE CRITTY |  | (almost simultaneously) | Your success warms me like old wine, my boy. |
| VANILLITY | My dear pupil; I have an excuse for having lived. | ||
| MAGNUS | The heartiest congratulations. | ||
| MRS. FELIX | Addington—you’re a great man. |
[Now that he is nearer, one perceives that Agnus is a youthful, enthusiastic, absent-minded genius, with a strong face save for his unsophisticated juvenile glance. This is now hidden, for he wears heavy tortoise-shell spectacles; also white trousers and tunic, heavily braided at collar and sleeves and along trousers legs—an old army uniform in fact, with insignia stripped off, though the buttoned shoulder-straps remain.
MAGNUS
May I re-admit Mr. Tromper, Loo? (He opens the hallway door) Tromper!
[Tromper enters just as Agnus has shaken the last hand.
FANNY (hastening over)
Addington—the man who made the offer—Mr. Tromper—
TROMPER
Pleasedtermeetcher—
[Agnus shakes hands with Tromper, muttering and looking puzzled.
FANNY
You know, on the telephone this morning—
AGNUS (turning away: utterly forgetting Tromper)
Fanny, you didn’t mean that, did you? Of course you didn’t—I know you didn’t! Why—after me winning the prize—
TROMPER (walking around and facing him again)
That’s why we make the offer, Doctor—
FANNY (dangerously)
You’re going back on your word, Addington?
AGNUS (turning his back, forgetting Tromper again)
Fanny, I forgot all about it. I began experimenting and—
FANNY
Forgot your word of honor—for smelly chemicals—
AGNUS
Fanny!
TROMPER (again, to the amusement of the others, walking around to face him) We wouldn’t take up all your time, you know, doctor.—After hours you could go on with your work—
ONFROY
Correspondence-course immortality—a few hours every night will open every door for you—even immortality—
MRS. FELIX
Don’t accept, Addington—
ONFROY
By no means, Chub—Never!
JUDGE CRITTY (clearing throat)
You have said you valued my opinion, my dear lad: you have called me a second father—
ONFROY
And Little Red Riding Hood called the wolf grandmother, too. (To Agnus) Decline it!
FANNY
Good day to you, Addington! (She is at the garden door; Agnus rushes over to her; she throws off his hand) You’ve broken your word. Good-bye!
AGNUS
Good-bye?
[The rest remain farther down the stage, watching the couple with curiosity.
FANNY
I’ll send your ring and your letters—
[The following colloquy is held in half-whispers to give impression that the others do not hear it.
AGNUS
But, Fanny—
FANNY
I told you, this was your chance. I can’t wait to marry until I’m gray.
AGNUS (excitedly)
But you love me?
[Fanny shrugs her shoulders.
AGNUS (wildly)
You’re tired of me?
FANNY
No, of waiting.
AGNUS (seizing her wrists)
You don’t care for anybody else?
[Fanny turns away.
AGNUS (madly)
Say you don’t! Say you don’t!
FANNY (impatiently)
No! But I’ll try to—hereafter. Let me go. You’re making a scene! (Wrenches herself away and goes out; he follows)
ONFROY (viciously)
He needs a guardian. (Points to laboratory) He leaves his wits in there: hat-checks his brains.
MRS. FELIX
But he hat-checks more brains than all of us carry around everywhere.
ONFROY
It’s damnable! (At the window) Here he comes back—you win. It’s written all over his face.
AGNUS (enters again)
She’s given me time to think it over. (To Onfroy) She’s gone on to see Olive.
ONFROY (to Magnus)
Yes, since you long-distanced, Olive’s worried everybody in the house nearly to death for fear her luncheon wouldn’t be grand enough for you New Yorkers. I told her: “Olive, when an artist entertains business men, he condescends—”
MAGNUS
A favorite word of coxcombs. (He goes toward door) Tromper included?
ONFROY (making a face)
Oh, I suppose so.
MAGNUS
Tromper!
TROMPER (swelling with righteous wrath and the desire to say “I’m as good as you are” but afraid to insult Magnus’s son-in-law) I’ll eat at the Club here—thank you. (Stalks forward in dignity)
MAGNUS
Tromper! (Tromper is immediately extinguished) Come along!
[They go out.
ONFROY (to Judge Critty)
Olive’s expecting you, too. Don’t mind what I said. Go ahead. Poo-bah!
JUDGE CRITTY
I take you with the usual salt, Onfroy. (Recovers his dignity by having thus made light of Onfroy) Professor!
VANILLITY (to Agnus)
My dear lad—I—
JUDGE CRITTY
Tom!
[Vanillity, feeling very wretched, shakes Agnus’s hand. As the Judge’s back is turned, he shakes his head vigorously. They go out.
FANNY (outside)
Mother, are you coming!
MRS. FELIX (to Onfroy, hurriedly)
She’ll come back if I stay. Argue the boy out of it—do. Addington, listen to Noel. (She goes)
ONFROY (alone with Agnus)
Now, you bally ass; you Simon Simple; you Babe-in-the-Wood; you Hans Clodhopper; you Little Claus; you—you everything that is asinine—listen to me; if you accept, I’ll never speak to you again!
AGNUS
And—if I don’t—she won’t!
ONFROY
More than that, you Lilliputian brain-storm, I’ll publish your infamy in every medical and scientific journal—in every newspaper and magazine, too, not controlled by this money-mad crew. You!—the biggest man in science—to make a nigger-slave of yourself for jews-harps and frill-fralls! Go part your hair in the middle and comb it over your forehead! You’ve got a forehead under false pretences. Your hair ought to grow into your eyes. Your eyes should close together like a smelt’s. You ought to have a chin running due south. Your head ought to look like a chipmunk’s or like a Bartlett pear.—Bah!
AGNUS
Life’s nothing without her?
ONFROY
You read that in a book. You won’t be sure you know her when the fashions in women’s clothes change. You’re mad with the madness of a man who has never lived with women before.
AGNUS
I thank Heaven—in that way—I’m worthy of her!
ONFROY
Oh, you fish! You eel! Worthy of her? She isn’t worthy to carry your coat! You’re Addington Agnus, the man who won the Nobel prize—try to remember the name—Addington Agnus.
AGNUS
You’ve never loved, Noel—
ONFROY
A dozen times. And if Olive made me dissatisfied tomorrow, I might love a dozen times more before I got satisfied again. Marriage made me. It’ll ruin you. Before I married, I was a pot-boiling portrait-painter. Now I’m the great Noel Onfroy, the American Velasquez. Love should serve genius. It’s more important for me to paint good pictures than to be foolish for six months or a year with some woman who doesn’t know a Michael Angelo from a Christy chromo—or who thinks Gibson is a great artist. Now, Fanny doesn’t know the difference between your work and that of some tame rabbit in a hutch discovering cheaper ways of tanning leather and dyeing cheese-cloth—
AGNUS
Olive didn’t know anything about art when you met her.
ONFROY
No, but I soon made her learn. I told her if she didn’t I wouldn’t marry her. And I didn’t, either, until she spent a year in one of the Julian studios learning how little she was and how big art was.—You ought to send Fanny to a School of Science before you marry her—
AGNUS (miserably)
She’d laugh at me if I suggested it.
ONFROY (angrily)
Vain, sickening puss-in-boots!
AGNUS (angrily)
Noel, you’re talking of the woman I love—
[Outside a figure is seen at that moment darting through the bushes, trying to hide, and finally crouching down.
ONFROY
Of the minx you love; the caterwauling, manicured, massaged, Paris-gowned cocodette you love—
AGNUS (furious)
Cocodette?
ONFROY
A cocotte who keeps chemically pure because she knows she’ll fetch a higher price in the marriage market—a married kept-up lady—
[Agnus jumps up as if to strike him.
ONFROY (sombrely)
Don’t do it. I could break you in two.
AGNUS (low)
That finishes us—our friendship—
ONFROY (with real feeling)
I’m sorry—I spoke for your good: to bring you to your senses, Chub—
[Agnus turns away.
ONFROY
All right.—Only—you won’t accept that offer, will you?
AGNUS
I intend to marry the woman I love. The woman whose shoestrings you aren’t fit to—
ONFROY
Quoting Chambers—McCutcheon novels again—novels written for fudge-munching slatternly wives to read on their way to an equally trashy matinée—their house-work undone—Fanny Felixes without money—
AGNUS (turning wildly)
The Devil give me strength to thrash you within an inch of your life!
[Onfroy catches hold of his hands.
AGNUS (helpless)
The Devil give me strength—
[The hitherto crouching figure shoots up outside and a face becomes visible at the window. Neither one of the men inside sees it.
ONFROY
You fool! You fool! (Throws Agnus from him and goes out slamming the door behind him)
[The face at the window turns to see Onfroy go hurriedly by. Agnus, rushing after him, throws open the door, thus disclosing a man in the garden who is waiting to enter.
MAN
Did I hear my name mentioned? (Enters. He is as unlike the popular conceptions of The Devil as possible, being short, squat, respectable, fat and Teutonic. He is followed by a queer light that darts and circles the ceiling) You called me, I think! (He closes the door)
AGNUS (backing)
What! What!
MAN (seating himself comfortably)
You called me—
AGNUS
You? Who are you?—
MAN
My real name is Wisdom. You called me The Devil.
[The light flashes across his face and circles around him.
AGNUS
I—you—!
THE DEVIL
You said: “The Devil give me strength.”
AGNUS
You—The Devil. (Suddenly convulsed with laughter, sits down)
THE DEVIL (gruffly)
Oh, I know, I look like the devil, but not like The Devil. But this was the only body handy when I got back from Mars the last time, so I had to take it—
[The light darts viciously at him.
THE DEVIL (points to the light, laughing)
There’s the real owner of this carcass—a crazy German anarchist.—He was howling for The Devil just as you were—wanted me to help blow up all the capitalists—
[The light attacks him again.
THE DEVIL
Tags after his foolish body, hoping I’ll get tired of it and give it back, I suppose.—And so I will when I find a better one. It’s no fun for a fiend of my renowned gentlemanly appearance to be masquerading as a Dutch comedian. Worse than that—the police are looking for it. That’s why I was hiding in your garden when I happened to hear you call me. The Devil, in jail—a fine tale to take back to Mars.
AGNUS (aghast)
Man, you should be in some lunatic asylum—
MAN
Don’t call me “man.” That’s a deadly insult. If ever a respectable Martian was sick of anything, it’s that unreasonable ignorant ridiculous combination of poll-parrot and monkey—
AGNUS
Poor lunatic! I must humor you, I suppose.—Have you forgotten there have been great men?
THE DEVIL
Never. I have been all the great men in history. All the great men have been The Devil: alias Wisdom. By taking possession of men’s bodies I have tried to set up an ideal to strive for, set the race an example. And then, when I had to quit and go back to Mars, each time the human’s little soul came back to its body and, finding itself with too much power, was responsible for all the inconsistencies, treacheries, and cruelties that have puzzled psychologists and historians—
AGNUS
You are a plausible lunatic, anyway. Would you mind mentioning who you were, for instance—
THE DEVIL
Oh, all the first-rate fellows—Confucius, Buddha, Mahomet—St. Augustine, Martin Luther, Moses—to mention a few—Shakespeare, Dickens—those were my sentimental days—
AGNUS (amused)
Oh! you wrote Shakespeare’s plays, did you?—
THE DEVIL
All the good ones—
AGNUS (laughing boisterously)
Well, that’s settled anyway—Bacon didn’t do it, after all—
THE DEVIL
Yes, he did—I was Bacon, too.
AGNUS (with ironical politeness)
Been anybody lately?
THE DEVIL
Bernard Shaw was my last appearance. Just before my last trip to Mars. I see he’s made good use of the plays I wrote for him; produced some very good imitations; caught my style, so to speak. I was sorry to leave Shaw. I was having rather better success waking up the world than usual. But I simply had to go back to Mars—
AGNUS (with increasing irony)
Really? Why?
THE DEVIL
It’s my home. When news came there some ten thousand years ago that man was evolving into a thinking brute, the Martians realized the dawning intellect would need a guide. I was the most ignorant of all Martians—I had tried to lead a revolt to make the body independent of the spirit. So, instead of going on to a higher mental state—my soul transferred from planet to planet until finally I should reach the Sun, which is the perfection of the soul—instead of that, I was sentenced to stand still for ten thousand years; to act as the link between Mars and the Earth; to make men fit for Mars, d’you understand?
AGNUS (faltering)
One of us is insane, that is certain.
THE DEVIL
Mars, you will remember, is red. That’s where your dim poetic devil-makers got their hell-fire from.
[Agnus holds his head.
THE DEVIL
The only true thing they tell about me is that I tempted man through woman to wisdom. I have been hated and reviled as wisdom always is. But my sentence of exile will soon be over—the ten thousand years will soon be up—and then I can quit ridiculous man forever and go to school again to fit myself for the Sun.
[The light darts impatiently around.
THE DEVIL
I wish that ridiculous Dutchman’s soul would quit bothering me! (To the light) Isn’t it enough that you’ve got me hiding from the police, you imbecilic disembodied spirit? (To Agnus) Who was that handsome fellow in the velvet jacket who just ran out of here? I’ve been following him about for days hoping he’ll ask my help. Then I could give this preposterous paunch back to that light comedian over there. (Points to light) And I hope the police get it.
AGNUS
You’re a scientific kind of a lunatic, right enough. Souls do leave their bodies during sleep or hypnotism or—
THE DEVIL (satirically)
Oh, you’ve discovered that, have you? Only fancy!
AGNUS
An ordinary lunatic would have pretended he could change himself into anything, if he was The Devil—
THE DEVIL
As soon as I take human shape, naturally I’m bound by human laws. And each time I get back from Mars, I must circulate around until some one calls for me. There are always plenty of people calling for The Devil. And then I have no choice—I must take the first I hear and change when I can. And so I’m chained to this refugée until I get something better—like that velvet-jacket fellow’s body, for instance. (Suddenly) Is he married?
AGNUS
Who? Noel Onfroy! Yes—I’m mad—overwork, I suppose—(suddenly clouded) worry! I don’t wonder I’m mad; I don’t wonder! (Feels his head and closes his eyes)
THE DEVIL
Oh, too bad he’s married. I should have thought of that before. I’d rather be a single Dutch comedian than a married Adonis. It’s bad enough being tied to one human body, let alone two. (Looks around and sees that the light has disappeared) The Dutchman’s gone, eh? He goes back to his foolish attic every now and then to see if the police have found any bombs yet. There are seven sewed up in the mattress—and I don’t dare take them out of the house for fear the police may be watching for a man with a suit-case. That Dutchman will get me in jail yet.
AGNUS (holding his head and looking at The Devil between the palms of his hands) You use singularly unclassical language for the Fount of All Wisdom—
THE DEVIL
The American language. When I’m in England, I use English.—By the way, are you married?
AGNUS
I? (Holds his head harder)
THE DEVIL (understanding)
Not, eh? Well? (He rises, advancing on Agnus, viewing him speculatively, and finally approvingly)
AGNUS (alarmed, dimly conscious)
Here! What now?
THE DEVIL (fixing his eyes on Agnus) You don’t believe in me?
AGNUS
Why—er—what are you doing? (In panic) Don’t look at me like that. (He starts up)
THE DEVIL
Sit down!
[Agnus struggles but sits down.
THE DEVIL
You called for me to help you. I’m going to. (He goes to the windows and pulls down the blinds)
AGNUS
Here! What! (He tries to rise but only sits starkly upright with staring eyes. A faint luminosity glows over his head)
[The Devil pulls up the chair close; their knees touch. He leans forward, staring into Agnus’s eyes. The luminosity grows brighter about Agnus’s head, rises little by little, flickers and flutters. Meanwhile a dull crimson light has glowed over The Devil’s head, and now it grows steadily and moves across the space until it rests on Agnus’s head, where it settles and sinks downward, disappearing.
THE DEVIL (rising, in Agnus’s body)
Take the Dutchman’s body, doctor—I’ve got yours—(A second luminosity glows at window) Quick! Here comes the Dutchman back. Take his body, or you’ll be homeless. It’s not much but it’s the only one I’ve got to give you. Quick! I need you!
[Each of the two luminosities dart toward the senseless body. One settles and disappears. The other flies viciously around and around the head. The Devil lets up the shades, shaking with laughter.
THE DEVIL
I hardly dare ask so impertinent a question—but which soul won?
AGNUS (in the Dutchman’s body)
You scoundrel! You fiend! You blackguard!
THE DEVIL
That might be either! The language of men is strikingly similar under great loss. Who are you? The rightful owner or an usurper?
AGNUS (shaking and trembling with rage)
Give me back my body, or I’ll kill you—
THE DEVIL
Kill me? You can only kill your own nice attractive body. You’ll suffer for any harm done to it when I give it back. So don’t knock out any teeth, or you’ll have toothache all your life.
[The light has been darting viciously between The Devil and Agnus.
THE DEVIL
Oh, go home to your bombs again, Schwartzenhopfel! This gentleman didn’t want your old body. When he sees how ridiculous it looks on him, he’s liable to shoot himself—or yourself. Nobody can love a body like that. (He draws aside curtains hiding a mirror set in the wall) I leave it to you, Agnus. Can you blame me for wanting to get rid of it?
[Agnus, seeing himself as a short squat German, staggers back clutching his throat.
THE DEVIL (having smoothed down his coat lapels so as to reveal a silk shirt, and twisted the carelessly tied necktie to a smart shape, takes off tortoise-shell spectacles, presenting, instead of the absorbed scientist, a young debonair man of fashion) Now—am I a lunatic? (Searches pockets and finds a letter)
AGNUS
You—Devil—
THE DEVIL (correcting him suavely as he exhibits the address on the letter) Dr. Agnus, please!
CURTAIN