Title: Mourning Becomes Electra
Author: Eugene O'Neill (1888-1953)
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A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook
Title: Mourning Becomes Electra
Author: Eugene O'Neill (1888-1953)
A Trilogy
1931
To Carlotta my wife
Contents
PART ONE--HOMECOMING--A Play in Four Acts
PART TWO--THE HUNTED--A Play in Five Acts
PART THREE--THE HAUNTED--A Play in Four Acts
General Scene of the Trilogy
The action of the trilogy, with the exception of an act of the
second play, takes place in or immediately outside the Mannon
residence, on the outskirts of one of the smaller New-England
seaport towns.
A special curtain shows the house as seen from the street. From
this, in each play, one comes to the exterior of the house in the
opening act and enters it in the following act.
This curtain reveals the extensive grounds--about thirty acres--
which surround the house, a heavily wooded ridge in the background,
orchards at the right and in the immediate rear, a large flower
garden and a greenhouse to the left.
In the foreground, along the street, is a line of locust and elm
trees. The property is enclosed by a white picket fence and a tall
hedge. A driveway curves up to the house from two entrances with
white gates. Between the house and the street is a lawn. By the
right corner of the house is a grove of pine trees. Farther
forward, along the driveway, maples and locusts. By the left
corner of the house is a big clump of lilacs and syringas.
The house is placed back on a slight rise of ground about three
hundred feet from the street. It is a large building of the Greek
temple type that was the vogue in the first half of the nineteenth
century. A white wooden portico with six tall columns contrasts
with the wall of the house proper which is of gray cut stone.
There are five windows on the upper floor and four on the ground
floor, with the main entrance in the middle, a doorway with squared
transom and sidelights flanked by intermediate columns. The window
shutters are painted a dark green. Before the doorway a flight of
four steps leads from the ground to the portico.
The three plays take place in either spring or summer of the years
1865-1866.
HOMECOMING
A Play in Four Acts
Part One of the Trilogy
MOURNING BECOMES ELECTRA
CHARACTERS
BRIGADIER-GENERAL EZRA MANNON
CHRISTINE, his wife
LAVINIA, their daughter
CAPTAIN ADAM BRANT, of the clipper "Flying Trades"
CAPTAIN PETER NILES, U.S. Artillery
HAZEL NILES, his sister
SETH BECKWITH
AMOS AMES
LOUISA, his wife
MINNIE, her cousin
SCENES
ACT ONE: Exterior of the Mannon house in New England--April, 1865.
ACT TWO: Ezra Mannon's study in the house--no time has elapsed.
ACT THREE: The same as Act One--exterior of the house--a night a
week later.
ACT FOUR: A bedroom in the house--later the same night.
Homecoming
ACT ONE
SCENE--Exterior of the Mannon house on a late afternoon in April,
1865. At front is the driveway which leads up to the house from
the two entrances on the street. Behind the driveway the white
Grecian temple portico with its six tall columns extends across the
stage. A big pine tree is on the lawn at the edge of the drive
before the right corner of the house. Its trunk is a black column
in striking contrast to the white columns of the portico. By the
edge of the drive, left front, is a thick clump of lilacs and
syringas. A bench is placed on the lawn at front of this shrubbery
which partly screens anyone sitting on it from the front of the
house.
It is shortly before sunset and the soft light of the declining sun
shines directly on the front of the house, shimmering in a luminous
mist on the white portico and the gray stone wall behind,
intensifying the whiteness of the columns, the somber grayness of
the wall, the green of the open shutters, the green of the lawn and
shrubbery, the black and green of the pine tree. The white columns
cast black bars of shadow on the gray wall behind them. The
windows of the lower floor reflect the sun's rays in a resentful
glare. The temple portico is like an incongruous white mask fixed
on the house to hide its somber gray ugliness.
In the distance, from the town, a band is heard playing "John
Brown's Body". Borne on the light puffs of wind this music is at
times quite loud, then sinks into faintness as the wind dies.
From the left rear, a man's voice is heard singing the chanty
"Shenandoah"--a song that more than any other holds in it the
brooding rhythm of the sea. The voice grows quickly nearer. It is
thin and aged, the wraith of what must once have been a good
baritone.
"Oh, Shenandoah, I long to hear you
A-way, my rolling river
Oh, Shenandoah, I can't get near you
Way-ay, I'm bound away
Across the wide Missouri."
The singer, Seth Beckwith, finishes the last line as he enters from
around the corner of the house. Closely following him are Amos
Ames, his wife Louisa, and her cousin Minnie.
Seth Beckwith, the Mannons' gardener and man of all work, is an old
man of seventy-five with white hair and beard, tall, raw-boned and
stoop-shouldered, his joints stiffened by rheumatism, but still
sound and hale. He has a gaunt face that in repose gives one the
strange impression of a life-like mask. It is set in a grim
expression, but his small, sharp eyes still peer at life with a
shrewd prying avidity and his loose mouth has a strong suggestion
of ribald humor. He wears his earth-stained working clothes.
Amos Ames, carpenter by trade but now taking a holiday and dressed
in his Sunday best, as are his wife and her cousin, is a fat man in
his fifties. In character he is the townsfolk type of garrulous
gossip-monger who is at the same time devoid of evil intent,
scandal being for him merely the subject most popular with his
audience.
His wife, Louisa, is taller and stouter than he and about the same
age. Of a similar scandal-bearing type, her tongue is sharpened by
malice.
Her cousin, Minnie, is a plump little woman of forty, of the meek,
eager-listener type, with a small round face, round stupid eyes,
and a round mouth pursed out to drink in gossip.
These last three are types of townsfolk rather than individuals, a
chorus representing the town come to look and listen and spy on the
rich and exclusive Mannons.
Led by Seth, they come forward as far as the lilac clump and stand
staring at the house. Seth, in a mood of aged playfulness, is
trying to make an impression on Minnie. His singing has been for
her benefit. He nudges her with his elbow, grinning.
SETH--How's that fur singin' fur an old feller? I used to be noted
fur my chanties. (Seeing she is paying no attention to him but is
staring with open-mouthed awe at the house, he turns to Ames--
jubilantly) By jingo, Amos, if that news is true, there won't be a
sober man in town tonight! It's our patriotic duty to celebrate!
AMES--(with a grin) We'd ought to, that's sartin!
LOUISA--You ain't goin' to git Amos drunk tonight, surrender or no
surrender! An old reprobate, that's what you be!
SETH--(pleased) Old nothin'! On'y seventy-five! My old man lived
to be ninety! Licker can't kill the Beckwiths! (He and Ames
laugh. Louisa smiles in spite of herself. Minnie is oblivious,
still staring at the house.)
MINNIE--My sakes! What a purty house!
SETH--Wal, I promised Amos I'd help show ye the sights when you
came to visit him. 'Taint everyone can git to see the Mannon place
close to. They're strict about trespassin'.
MINNIE--My! They must be rich! How'd they make their money?
SETH--Ezra's made a pile, and before him, his father, Abe Mannon,
he inherited some and made a pile more in shippin'. Started one of
the fust Western Ocean packet lines.
MINNIE--Ezra's the General, ain't he?
SETH--(proudly) Ayeh. The best fighter in the hull of Grant's
army!
MINNIE--What kind is he?
SETH--(boastfully expanding) He's able, Ezra is! Folks think he's
cold-blooded and uppish, 'cause he's never got much to say to 'em.
But that's only the Mannons' way. They've been top dog around here
for near on two hundred years and don't let folks fergit it.
MINNIE--How'd he come to jine the army if he's so rich?
SETH--Oh, he'd been a soldier afore this war. His paw made him go
to West P'int. He went to the Mexican war and come out a major.
Abe died that same year and Ezra give up the army and took holt of
the shippin' business here. But he didn't stop there. He learned
law on the side and got made a judge. Went in fur politics and got
'lected mayor. He was mayor when this war broke out but he
resigned to once and jined the army again. And now he's riz to be
General. Oh, he's able, Ezra is!
AMES--Ayeh. This town's real proud of Ezra.
LOUISA--Which is more'n you kin say fur his wife. Folks all hates
her! She ain't the Mannon kind. French and Dutch descended, she
is. Furrin lookin' and queer. Her father's a doctor in New York,
but he can't be much of a one 'cause she didn't bring no money when
Ezra married her.
SETH--(his face growing grim--sharply) Never mind her. We ain't
talkin' 'bout her. (then abruptly changing the subject) Wal, I've
got to see Vinnie. I'm goin' round by the kitchen. You wait here.
And if Ezra's wife starts to run you off fur trespassin', you tell
her I got permission from Vinnie to show you round. (He goes off
around the corner of the house, left. The three stare about them
gawkily, awed and uncomfortable. They talk in low voices.)
LOUISA--Seth is so proud of his durned old Mannons! I couldn't
help givin' him a dig about Ezra's wife.
AMES--Wal, don't matter much. He's allus hated her.
LOUISA--Ssshh! Someone's comin' out. Let's get back here! (They
crowd to the rear of the bench by the lilac clump and peer through
the leaves as the front door is opened and Christine Mannon comes
out to the edge of the portico at the top of the steps. Louisa
prods her cousin and whispers excitedly) That's her! (Christine
Mannon is a tall striking-looking woman of forty but she appears
younger. She has a fine, voluptuous figure and she moves with a
flowing animal grace. She wears a green satin dress, smartly cut
and expensive, which brings out the peculiar color of her thick
curly hair, partly a copper brown, partly a bronze gold, each shade
distinct and yet blending with the other. Her face is unusual,
handsome rather than beautiful. One is struck at once by the
strange impression it gives in repose of being not living flesh but
a wonderfully life-like pale mask, in which only the deep-set eyes,
of a dark violet blue, are alive. Her black eyebrows meet in a
pronounced straight line above her strong nose. Her chin is heavy,
her mouth large and sensual, the lower lip full, the upper a thin
bow, shadowed by a line of hair. She stands and listens
defensively, as if the music held some meaning that threatened her.
But at once she shrugs her shoulders with disdain and comes down
the steps and walks off toward the flower garden, passing behind
the lilac clump without having noticed Ames and the women.)
MINNIE--(in an awed whisper) My! She's awful handsome, ain't she?
LOUISA--Too furrin lookin' fur my taste.
MINNIE--Ayeh. There's somethin' queer lookin' about her face.
AMES--Secret lookin'--'s if it was a mask she'd put on. That's the
Mannon look. They all has it. They grow it on their wives.
Seth's growed it on too, didn't you notice--from bein' with 'em all
his life. They don't want folks to guess their secrets.
MINNIE--(breathlessly eager) Secrets?
LOUISA--The Mannons got skeletons in their closets same as others!
Worse ones. (lowering her voice almost to a whisper--to her
husband) Tell Minnie about old Abe Mannon's brother David marryin'
that French Canuck nurse girl he'd got into trouble.
AMES--Ssshh! Shet up, can't you? Here's Seth comin'. (But he
whispers quickly to Minnie) That happened way back when I was a
youngster. I'll tell you later. (Seth has appeared from around
the left corner of the house and now joins them.)
SETH--That durned nigger cook is allus askin' me to fetch wood fur
her! You'd think I was her slave! That's what we get fur freein'
'em! (then briskly) Wal, come along, folks. I'll show you the
peach orchard and then we'll go to my greenhouse. I couldn't find
Vinnie. (They are about to start when the front door of the house
is opened and Lavinia comes out to the top of the steps where her
mother had stood. She is twenty-three but looks considerably
older. Tall like her mother, her body is thin, flat-breasted and
angular, and its unattractiveness is accentuated by her plain black
dress. Her movements are stiff and she carries herself with a
wooden, square-shouldered, military bearing. She has a flat dry
voice and a habit of snapping out her words like an officer giving
orders. But in spite of these dissimilarities, one is immediately
struck by her facial resemblance to her mother. She has the same
peculiar shade of copper-gold hair, the same pallor and dark violet-
blue eyes, the black eyebrows meeting in a straight line above her
nose, the same sensual mouth, the same heavy jaw. Above all, one
is struck by the same strange, life-like mask impression her face
gives in repose. But it is evident Lavinia does all in her power
to emphasize the dissimilarity rather than the resemblance to her
parent. She wears her hair pulled tightly back, as if to conceal
its natural curliness, and there is not a touch of feminine
allurement to her severely plain get-up. Her head is the same size
as her mother's, but on her thin body it looks too large and
heavy.)
SETH--(seeing her) There she be now. (He starts for the steps--
then sees she has not noticed their presence, and stops and stands
waiting, struck by something in her manner. She is looking off
right, watching her mother as she strolls through the garden to the
greenhouse. Her eyes are bleak and hard with an intense, bitter
enmity. Then her mother evidently disappears in the greenhouse,
for Lavinia turns her head, still oblivious to Seth and his
friends, and looks off left, her attention caught by the band, the
music of which, borne on a freshening breeze, has suddenly become
louder. It is still playing "John Brown's Body." Lavinia listens,
as her mother had a moment before, but her reaction is the direct
opposite to what her mother's had been. Her eyes light up with a
grim satisfaction, and an expression of strange vindictive triumph
comes into her face.)
LOUISA--(in a quick whisper to Minnie) That's Lavinia!
MINNIE--She looks like her mother in face--queer lookin'--but she
ain't purty like her.
SETH--You git along to the orchard, folks. I'll jine you there.
(They walk back around the left of the house and disappear. He
goes to Lavinia eagerly.) Say, I got fine news fur you, Vinnie.
The telegraph feller says Lee is a goner sure this time! They're
only waitin' now fur the news to be made official. You can count
on your paw comin' home!
LAVINIA--(grimly) I hope so. It's time.
SETH--(with a keen glance at her--slowly) Ayeh.
LAVINIA--(turning on him sharply) What do you mean, Seth?
SETH--(avoiding her eyes--evasively) Nothin'--'cept what you mean.
(Lavinia stares at him. He avoids her eyes--then heavily casual)
Where was you gallivantin' night afore last and all yesterday?
LAVINIA--(starts) Over to Hazel and Peter's house.
SETH--Ayeh. There's where Hannah said you'd told her you was
goin'. That's funny now--'cause I seen Peter up-street yesterday
and he asked me where you was keepin' yourself.
LAVINIA--(again starts--then slowly as if admitting a secret
understanding between them) I went to New York, Seth.
SETH--Ayeh. That's where I thought you'd gone, mebbe. (then with
deep sympathy) It's durned hard on you, Vinnie. It's a durned
shame.
LAVINIA--(stiffening--curtly) I don't know what you're talking
about.
SETH--(nods comprehendingly) All right, Vinnie. Just as you say.
(He pauses--then after hesitating frowningly for a moment, blurts
out) There's somethin' been on my mind lately I want to warn you
about. It's got to do with what's worryin' you--that is, if
there's anythin' in it.
LAVINIA--(stiffly) There's nothing worrying me. (then sharply)
Warn me? About what?
SETH--Mebbe it's nothin'--and then again mebbe I'm right, and if
I'm right, then you'd ought t'be warned. It's to do with that
Captain Brant.
LAVINIA--(starts again but keeps her tone cold and collected) What
about him?
SETH--Somethin' I calc'late no one'd notice 'specially 'ceptin' me,
because--(then hastily as he sees someone coming up the drive)
Here's Peter and Hazel comin'. I'll tell you later, Vinnie. I
ain't got time now anyways. Those folks are waitin' for me.
LAVINIA--I'll be sitting here. You come back afterwards. (then
her cold disciplined mask breaking for a moment--tensely) Oh, why
do Peter and Hazel have to come now? I don't want to see anyone!
(She starts as if to go into the house.)
SETH--You run in. I'll git rid of 'em fur you.
LAVINIA--(recovering herself--curtly) No. I'll see them. (Seth
goes back around the corner of the house, left. A moment later
Hazel and Peter Niles enter along the drive from left, front.
Hazel is a pretty, healthy girl of nineteen, with dark hair and
eyes. Her features are small but clearly modelled. She has a
strong chin and a capable, smiling mouth. One gets a sure
impression of her character at a glance--frank, innocent, amiable
and good--not in a negative but in a positive, self-possessed way.
Her brother, Peter, is very like her in character--straightforward,
guileless and good-natured. He is a heavily built young fellow of
twenty-two, awkward in movement and hesitating in speech. His face
is broad, plain, with a snubby nose, curly brown hair, fine gray
eyes and a big mouth. He wears the uniform of an artillery captain
in the Union Army.)
LAVINIA--(with forced cordiality) Good afternoon. How are you?
(She and Hazel kiss and she shakes hands with Peter.)
HAZEL--Oh, we're all right. But how are you, Vinnie, that's the
question? Seems as if we hadn't seen you in ages! You haven't
been sick, I hope!
LAVINIA--Well--if you call a pesky cold sick.
PETER--Gosh, that's too bad! All over it now?
LAVINIA--Yes--almost. Do sit down, won't you? (Hazel sits at left
of bench, Lavinia beside her in the middle. Peter sits gingerly on
the right edge so that there is an open space between him and
Lavinia.)
HAZEL--Peter can stay a while if you want him to, but I just
dropped in for a second to find out if you'd had any more news from
Orin.
LAVINIA--Not since the letter I showed you.
HAZEL--But that was ages ago! And I haven't had a letter in
months. I guess he must have met another girl some place and given
me the go by. (She forces a smile but her tone is really hurt.)
PETER--Orin not writing doesn't mean anything. He never was much
of a hand for letters.
HAZEL--I know that, but--you don't think he's been wounded, do you,
Vinnie?
LAVINIA--Of course not. Father would have let us know.
PETER--Sure he would. Don't be foolish, Hazel! (then after a
little pause) Orin ought to be home before long now. You've heard
the good news, of course, Vinnie?
HAZEL--Peter won't have to go back. Isn't that fine?
PETER--My wound is healed and I've got orders to leave tomorrow but
they'll be cancelled, I guess. (grinning) I won't pretend I'm the
sort of hero that wants to go back, either! I've had enough!
HAZEL--(impulsively) Oh, it will be so good to see Orin again.
(then embarrassed, forces a self-conscious laugh and gets up and
kisses Lavinia) Well, I must run. I've got to meet Emily. Good-
bye, Vinnie. Do take care of yourself and come to see us soon.
(with a teasing glance at her brother) And be kind to Peter. He's
nice--when he's asleep. And he has something he's just dying to
ask you!
PETER--(horribly embarrassed) Darn you! (Hazel laughs and goes
off down the drive, left front. Peter fidgets, his eyes on the
ground. Lavinia watches him. Since Hazel's teasing statement, she
has visibly withdrawn into herself and is on the defensive.
Finally Peter looks up and blurts out awkardly) Hazel feels bad
about Orin not writing. Do you think he really--loves her?
LAVINIA--(stiffening--brusquely) I don't know anything about love!
I don't want to know anything! (intensely) I hate love!
PETER--(crushed by this but trying bravely to joke) Gosh, then, if
that's the mood you're in, I guess I better not ask--something I'd
made up my mind to ask you today.
LAVINIA--It's what you asked me a year ago when you were home on
leave, isn't it?
PETER--And you said wait till the war was over. Well, it's over
now.
LAVINIA--(slowly) I can't marry anyone, Peter. I've got to stay
home. Father needs me.
PETER--He's got your mother.
LAVINIA--(sharply) He needs me more! (A pause. Then she turns
pityingly and puts her hand on his shoulder.) I'm sorry, Peter.
PETER--(gruffly) Oh, that's all right.
LAVINIA--I know it's what girls always say in books, but I do love
you as a brother, Peter. I wouldn't lose you as a brother for
anything. We've been like that ever since we were little and
started playing together--you and Orin and Hazel and I. So please
don't let this come between us.
PETER--'Course it won't. What do you think I am? (doggedly)
Besides, I'm not giving up hope but what you'll change your mind in
time. That is, unless it's because you love someone else--
LAVINIA--(snatching her hand back) Don't be stupid, Peter!
PETER--But how about this mysterious clipper captain that's been
calling?
LAVINIA--(angrily) Do you think I care anything about that--that--!
PETER--Don't get mad. I only meant, folks say he's courting you.
LAVINIA--Folks say more than their prayers!
PETER--Then you don't--care for him?
LAVINIA--(intensely) I hate the sight of him!
PETER--Gosh! I'm glad to hear you say that, Vinnie. I was afraid--
I imagined girls all liked him. He's such a darned romantic-
looking cuss. Looks more like a gambler or a poet than a ship
captain. I got a look as he was coming out of your gate--I guess
it was the last time he was here. Funny, too. He reminded me of
someone. But I couldn't place who it was.
LAVINIA--(startled, glances at him uneasily) No one around here,
that's sure. He comes from out West. Grandfather Hamel happened
to meet him in New York and took a fancy to him, and Mother met him
at Grandfather's house.
PETER--Who is he, anyway, Vinnie?
LAVINIA--I don't know much about him in spite of what you think.
Oh, he did tell me the story of his life to make himself out
romantic, but I didn't pay much attention. He went to sea when he
was young and was in California for the Gold Rush. He's sailed all
over the world--he lived on a South Sea island once, so he says.
PETER--(grumpily) He seems to have had plenty of romantic
experience, if you can believe him!
LAVINIA--(bitterly) That's his trade--being romantic! (then
agitatedly) But I don't want to talk any more about him. (She
gets up and walks toward right to conceal her agitation, keeping
her back turned to Peter.)
PETER--(with a grin) Well, I don't either. I can think of more
interesting subjects. (Christine Mannon appears from left, between
the clump of lilacs and the house. She is carrying a big bunch of
flowers. Lavinia senses her presence and whirls around. For a
moment, mother and daughter stare into each other's eyes. In their
whole tense attitudes is clearly revealed the bitter antagonism
between them. But Christine quickly recovers herself and her air
resumes its disdainful aloofness.)
CHRISTINE--Ah, here you are at last! (Then she sees Peter, who is
visibly embarrassed by her presence.) Why, good afternoon, Peter,
I didn't see you at first.
PETER--Good afternoon, Mrs. Mannon. I was just passing and dropped
in for a second. I guess I better run along now, Vinnie.
LAVINIA--(with an obvious eagerness to get him off--quickly) All
right. Good-bye, Peter.
PETER--Good-bye. Good-bye, Mrs. Mannon.
CHRISTINE--Good-bye, Peter. (He disappears from the drive, left.
Christine comes forward.) I must say you treat your one devoted
swain pretty rudely. (Lavinia doesn't reply. Christine goes on
coolly.) I was wondering when I was going to see you. When I
returned from New York last night you seemed to have gone to bed.
LAVINIA--I had gone to bed.
CHRISTINE--You usually read long after that. I tried your door--
but you had locked yourself in. When you kept yourself locked in
all day I was sure you were intentionally avoiding me. But Annie
said you had a headache. (While she has been speaking she has come
toward Lavinia until she is now within arm's reach of her. The
facial resemblance, as they stand there, is extraordinary.
Christine stares at her coolly, but one senses an uneasy wariness
beneath her pose.) Did you have a headache?
LAVINIA--No. I wanted to be alone--to think over things.
CHRISTINE--What things, if I may ask? (Then, as if she were afraid
of an answer to this question, she abruptly changes the subject.)
Who are those people I saw wandering about the grounds?
LAVINIA--Some friends of Seth's.
CHRISTINE--Because they know that lazy old sot, does it give them
the privilege of trespassing?
LAVINIA--I gave Seth permission to show them around.
CHRISTINE--And since when have you the right without consulting me?
LAVINIA--I couldn't very well consult you when Seth asked me. You
had gone to New York--(she pauses a second--then adds slowly,
staring fixedly at her mother) to see Grandfather. Is he feeling
any better? He seems to have been sick so much this past year.
CHRISTINE--(casually, avoiding her eyes) Yes. He's much better
now. He'll soon be going the rounds to his patients again, he
hopes. (as if anxious to change the subject, looking at the
flowers she carries) I've been to the greenhouse to pick these. I
felt our tomb needed a little brightening. (She nods scornfully
toward the house.) Each time I come back after being away it
appears more like a sepulchre! The "whited" one of the Bible--
pagan temple front stuck like a mask on Puritan gray ugliness! It
was just like old Abe Mannon to build such a monstrosity--as a
temple for his hatred. (then with a little mocking laugh) Forgive
me, Vinnie. I forgot you liked it. And you ought to. It suits
your temperament. (Lavinia stares at her but remains silent.
Christine glances at her flowers again and turns toward the house.)
I must put these in water. (She moves a few steps toward the house--
then turns again--with a studied casualness) By the way, before I
forget, I happened to run into Captain Brant on the street in New
York. He said he was coming up here today to take over his ship
and asked me if he might drop in to see you. I told him he could--
and stay to supper with us. (without looking at Lavinia, who is
staring at her with a face grown grim and hard) Doesn't that
please you, Vinnie? Or do you remain true to your one and only
beau, Peter?
LAVINIA--Is that why you picked the flowers--because he is coming?
(Her mother does not answer. She goes on with a threatening
undercurrent in her voice.) You have heard the news, I suppose?
It means Father will be home soon!
CHRISTINE--(without looking at her--coolly) We've had so many
rumors lately. This report hasn't been confirmed yet, has it? I
haven't heard the fort firing a salute.
LAVINIA--You will before long!
CHRISTINE--I'm sure I hope so as much as you.
LAVINIA--You can say that!
CHRISTINE--(concealing her alarm--coldly) What do you mean? You
will kindly not take that tone with me, please! (cuttingly) If
you are determined to quarrel, let us go into the house. We might
be overheard out here. (She turns and sees Seth who has just come
to the corner of the house, left, and is standing there watching
them.) See. There is your old crony doing his best to listen now!
(moving to the steps) I am going in and rest a while. (She walks
up the steps.)
LAVINIA--(harshly) I've got to have a talk with you, Mother--
before long!
CHRISTINE--(turning defiantly) Whenever you wish. Tonight after
the Captain leaves you, if you like. But what is it you want to
talk about?
LAVINIA--You'll know soon enough!
CHRISTINE--(staring at her with a questioning dread--forcing a
scornful smile) You always make such a mystery of things, Vinnie.
(She goes into the house and closes the door behind her. Seth
comes forward from where he had withdrawn around the corner of the
house. Lavinia makes a motion for him to follow her, and goes and
sits on the bench at left. A pause. She stares straight ahead,
her face frozen, her eyes hard. He regards her understandingly.)
LAVINIA--(abruptly) Well? What is it about Captain Brant you want
to warn me against? (then as if she felt she must defend her
question from some suspicion that she knows is in his mind) I want
to know all I can about him because--he seems to be calling to
court me.
SETH--(managing to convey his entire disbelief of this statement in
one word) Ayeh.
LAVINIA--(sharply) You say that as if you didn't believe me.
SETH--I believe anything you tell me to believe. I ain't been with
the Mannons for sixty years without learning that. (A pause. Then
he asks slowly) Ain't you noticed this Brant reminds you of
someone in looks?
LAVINIA--(struck by this) Yes. I have--ever since I first saw him--
but I've never been able to place who--Who do you mean?
SETH--Your Paw, ain't it, Vinnie?
LAVINIA--(startled--agitatedly) Father? No! It can't be! (then
as if the conviction were forcing itself on her in spite of
herself) Yes! He does--something about his face--that must be why
I've had the strange feeling I've known him before--why I've felt--
(then tensely as if she were about to break down) Oh! I won't
believe it! You must be mistaken, Seth! That would be too--!
SETH--He ain't only like your Paw. He's like Orin, too--and all
the Mannons I've known.
LAVINIA--(frightenedly) But why--why should he--?
SETH--More speshully he calls to my mind your Grandpaw's brother,
David. How much do you know about David Mannon, Vinnie? I know
his name's never been allowed to be spoke among Mannons since the
day he left--but you've likely heard gossip, ain't you--even if it
all happened before you was born.
LAVINIA--I've heard that he loved the Canuck nurse girl who was
taking care of Father's little sister who died, and had to marry
her because she was going to have a baby; and that Grandfather put
them both out of the house and then afterwards tore it down and
built this one because he wouldn't live where his brother had
disgraced the family. But what has that old scandal got to do with--
SETH--Wait. Right after they was throwed out they married and went
away. There was talk they'd gone out West, but no one knew nothin'
about 'em afterwards--'ceptin' your Grandpaw let out to me one time
she'd had the baby--a boy. He was cussin' it. (then impressively)
It's about her baby I've been thinkin', Vinnie.
LAVINIA--(a look of appalled comprehension growing on her face)
Oh!
SETH--How old is that Brant, Vinnie?
LAVINIA--Thirty-six, I think.
SETH--Ayeh! That'd make it right. And here's another funny thing--
his name. Brant's sort of queer fur a name. I ain't never heard
tell of it before. Sounds made up to me--like short fur somethin'
else. Remember what that Canuck girl's name was, do you, Vinnie?
Marie Brantôme! See what I'm drivin' at?
LAVINIA--(agitatedly, fighting against a growing conviction) But--
don't be stupid, Seth--his name would be Mannon and he'd be only
too proud of it.
SETH--He'd have good reason not to use the name of Mannon when he
came callin' here, wouldn't he? If your Paw ever guessed--!
LAVINIA--(breaking out violently) No! It can't be! God wouldn't
let it! It would be too horrible--on top of--! I won't even think
of it, do you hear? Why did you have to tell me?
SETH--(calmingly) There now! Don't take on, Vinnie. No need
gettin' riled at me. (He waits--then goes on insistently.) All
I'm drivin' at is that it's durned funny--his looks and the name--
and you'd ought fur your Paw's sake to make sartin.
LAVINIA--How can I make certain?
SETH--Catch him off guard sometime and put it up to him strong--as
if you knowed it--and see if mebbe he don't give himself away. (He
starts to go--looks down the drive at left.) Looks like him comin'
up the drive now, Vinnie. There's somethin' about his walk calls
back David Mannon, too. If I didn't know it was him I'd think it
was David's ghost comin' home. (He turns away abruptly.) Wal,
calc'late I better git back to work. (He walks around the left
corner of the house. A pause. Then Captain Adam Brant enters from
the drive, left, front. He starts on seeing Lavinia but
immediately puts on his most polite, winning air. One is struck at
a glance by the peculiar quality his face in repose has of being a
life-like mask rather than living flesh. He has a broad, low
forehead, framed by coal-black straight hair which he wears
noticeably long, pushed back carelessly from his forehead as a
poet's might be. He has a big aquiline nose, bushy eyebrows,
swarthy complexion, hazel eyes. His wide mouth is sensual and
moody--a mouth that can be strong and weak by turns. He wears a
mustache, but his heavy cleft chin is clean-shaven. In figure he
is tall, broad-shouldered and powerful. He gives the impression of
being always on the offensive or defensive, always fighting life.
He is dressed with an almost foppish extravagance, with touches of
studied carelessness, as if a romantic Byronic appearance were the
ideal in mind. There is little of the obvious ship captain about
him, except his big, strong hands and his deep voice.)
BRANT--(bowing with an exaggerated politeness) Good afternoon.
(coming and taking her hand which she forces herself to hold out to
him) Hope you don't mind my walking in on you without ceremony.
Your mother told me--
LAVINIA--I know. She had to go out for a while and she said I was
to keep you company until she returned.
BRANT--(gallantly) Well, I'm in good luck, then. I hope she
doesn't hurry back to stand watch over us. I haven't had a chance
to be alone with you since--that night we went walking in the
moonlight, do you remember? (He has kept her hand and he drops his
voice to a low, lover-like tone. Lavinia cannot repress a start,
agitatedly snatching her hand from his and turning away from him.)
LAVINIA--(regaining command of herself--slowly) What do you think
of the news of Lee surrendering, Captain? We expect my father home
very soon now. (At something in her tone he stares at her
suspiciously, but she is looking straight before her.) Why don't
you sit down?
BRANT--Thank you. (He sits on the bench at her right. He has
become wary now, feeling something strange in her attitude but not
able to make her out--casually) Yes, you must be very happy at the
prospect of seeing your father again. Your mother has told me how
close you've always been to him.
LAVINIA--Did she? (then with intensity) I love Father better than
anyone in the world. There is nothing I wouldn't do--to protect
him from hurt!
BRANT--(watching her carefully--keeping his casual tone) You care
more for him than for your mother?
LAVINIA--Yes.
BRANT--Well, I suppose that's the usual way of it. A daughter
feels closer to her father and a son to his mother. But I should
think you ought to be a born exception to that rule.
LAVINIA--Why?
BRANT--You're so like your mother in some ways. Your face is the
dead image of hers. And look at your hair. You won't meet hair
like yours and hers again in a month of Sundays. I only know of
one other woman who had it. You'll think it strange when I tell
you. It was my mother.
LAVINIA--(with a start) Ah!
BRANT--(dropping his voice to a reverent, hushed tone) Yes, she
had beautiful hair like your mother's, that hung down to her knees,
and big, deep, sad eyes that were blue as the Caribbean sea!
LAVINIA--(harshly) What do looks amount to? I'm not a bit like
her! Everybody knows I take after Father!
BRANT--(brought back with a shock, astonished at her tone) But--
you're not angry at me for saying that, are you? (then filled with
uneasiness and resolving he must establish himself on an intimate
footing with her again--with engaging bluntness) You're puzzling
today, Miss Lavinia. You'll excuse me if I come out with it
bluntly. I've lived most of my life at sea and in camps and I'm
used to straight speaking. What are you holding against me? If
I've done anything to offend you, I swear it wasn't meant. (She is
silent, staring before her with hard eyes, rigidly upright. He
appraises her with a calculating look, then goes on.) I wouldn't
have bad feeling come between us for the world. I may only be
flattering myself, but I thought you liked me. Have you forgotten
that night walking along the shore?
LAVINIA--(in a cold, hard voice) I haven't forgotten. Did Mother
tell you you could kiss me?
BRANT--What--what do you mean? (But he at once attributes the
question to her naïveté--laughingly) Oh! I see! But, come now,
Lavinia, you can't mean, can you, I should have asked her
permission?
LAVINIA--Shouldn't you?
BRANT--(again uneasy--trying to joke it off) Well, I wasn't
brought up that strictly and, should or shouldn't, at any rate, I
didn't--and it wasn't the less sweet for that! (Then at something
in her face he hurriedly goes off on another tack.) I'm afraid I
gabbed too much that night. Maybe I bored you with my talk of
clipper ships and my love for them?
LAVINIA--(dryly) "Tall, white clippers," you called them. You
said they were like beautiful, pale women to you. You said you
loved them more than you'd ever loved a woman. Is that true,
Captain?
BRANT--(with forced gallantry) Aye. But I meant, before I met
you. (then thinking he has at last hit on the cause of her changed
attitude toward him--with a laugh) So that's what you're holding
against me, is it? Well, I might have guessed. Women are jealous
of ships. They always suspect the sea. They know they're three of
a kind when it comes to a man! (He laughs again but less certainly
this time, as he regards her grim, set expression.) Yes, I might
have seen you didn't appear much taken by my sea gamming that
night. I suppose clippers are too old a story to the daughter of a
ship builder. But unless I'm much mistaken, you were interested
when I told you of the islands in the South Seas where I was
shipwrecked my first voyage at sea.
LAVINIA--(in a dry, brittle tone) I remember your admiration for
the naked native women. You said they had found the secret of
happiness because they had never heard that love can be a sin.
BRANT--(surprised--sizing her up puzzledly) So you remember that,
do you? (then romantically) Aye! And they live in as near the
Garden of Paradise before sin was discovered as you'll find on this
earth! Unless you've seen it, you can't picture the green beauty
of their land set in the blue of the sea! The clouds like down on
the mountain tops, the sun drowsing in your blood, and always the
surf on the barrier reef singing a croon in your ears like a
lullaby! The Blessed Isles, I'd call them! You can forget there
all men's dirty dreams of greed and power!
LAVINIA--And their dirty dreams--of love?
BRANT--(startled again--staring at her uneasily) Why do you say
that? What do you mean, Lavinia?
LAVINIA--Nothing. I was only thinking--of your Blessed Isles.
BRANT--(uncertainly) Oh! But you said--(Then with a confused,
stupid persistence he comes closer to her, dropping his voice again
to his love-making tone) Whenever I remember those islands now, I
will always think of you, as you walked beside me that night with
your hair blowing in the sea wind and the moonlight in your eyes!
(He tries to take her hand, but at his touch she pulls away and
springs to her feet.)
LAVINIA--(with cold fury) Don't you touch me! Don't you dare--!
You liar! You--! (Then as he starts back in confusion, she seizes
this opportunity to follow Seth's advice--staring at him with
deliberately insulting scorn) But I suppose it would be foolish to
expect anything but cheap romantic lies from the son of a low
Canuck nurse girl!
BRANT--(stunned) What's that? (then rage at the insult to his
mother overcoming all prudence--springs to his feet threateningly)
Belay, damn you!--or I'll forget you're a woman--no Mannon can
insult her while I--
LAVINIA--(appalled now she knows the truth) So--it is true--You
are her son! Oh!
BRANT--(fighting to control himself--with harsh defiance) And what
if I am? I'm proud to be! My only shame is my dirty Mannon blood!
So that's why you couldn't stand my touching you just now, is it?
You're too good for the son of a servant, eh? By God, you were
glad enough before--!
LAVINIA--(fiercely) It's not true! I was only leading you on to
find out things!
BRANT--Oh, no! It's only since you suspected who I was! I suppose
your father has stuffed you with his lies about my mother! But, by
God, you'll hear the truth of it, now you know who I am--And you'll
see if you or any Mannon has the right to look down on her!
LAVINIA--I don't want to hear--(She starts to go toward the house.)
BRANT--(grabbing her by the arm--tauntingly) You're a coward, are
you, like all Mannons, when it comes to facing the truth about
themselves? (She turns on him defiantly. He drops her arm and
goes on harshly.) I'll bet he never told you your grandfather, Abe
Mannon, as well as his brother, loved my mother!
LAVINIA--It's a lie!
BRANT--It's the truth. It was his jealous revenge made him disown
my father and cheat him out of his share of the business they'd
inherited!
LAVINIA--He didn't cheat him! He bought him out!
BRANT--Forced him to sell for one-tenth its worth, you mean! He
knew my father and mother were starving! But the money didn't last
my father long! He'd taken to drink. He was a coward--like all
Mannons--once he felt the world looked down on him. He skulked and
avoided people. He grew ashamed of my mother--and me. He sank
down and down and my mother worked and supported him. I can
remember when men from the corner saloon would drag him home and
he'd fall in the door, a sodden carcass. One night when I was
seven he came home crazy drunk and hit my mother in the face. It
was the first time he'd ever struck her. It made me blind mad. I
hit at him with the poker and cut his head. My mother pulled me
back and gave me a hiding. Then she cried over him. She'd never
stopped loving him.
LAVINIA--Why do you tell me this? I told you once I don't want to
hear--
BRANT--(grimly) You'll see the point of it damned soon!
(unheeding--as if the scene were still before his eyes) For days
after, he sat and stared at nothing. One time when we were alone
he asked me to forgive him hitting her. But I hated him and I
wouldn't forgive him. Then one night he went out and he didn't
come back. The next morning they found him hanging in a barn!
LAVINIA--(with a shudder) Oh!
BRANT--(savagely) The only decent thing he ever did!
LAVINIA--You're lying! No Mannon would ever--
BRANT--Oh, wouldn't they? They are all fine, honorable gentlemen,
you think! Then listen a bit and you'll hear something about
another of them! (then going on bitterly with his story) My
mother sewed for a living and sent me to school. She was very
strict with me. She blamed me for his killing himself. But she
was bound she'd make a gentleman of me--like he was!--if it took
her last cent and her last strap! (with a grim smile) She didn't
succeed, as you notice! At seventeen I ran away to sea--and forgot
I had a mother, except I took part of her name--Brant was short and
easy on ships--and I wouldn't wear the name of Mannon. I forgot
her until two years ago when I came back from the East. Oh, I'd
written to her now and then and sent her money when I happened to
have any. But I'd forgotten her just the same--and when I got to
New York I found her dying--of sickness and starvation! And I
found out that when she'd been laid up, not able to work, not
knowing where to reach me, she'd sunk her last shred of pride and
written to your father asking for a loan. He never answered her.
And I came too late. She died in my arms. (with vindictive
passion) He could have saved her--and he deliberately let her die!
He's as guilty of murder as anyone he ever sent to the rope when he
was a judge!
LAVINIA--(springing to her feet--furiously) You dare say that
about Father! If he were here--
BRANT--I wish to God he was! I'd tell him what I tell you now--
that I swore on my mother's body I'd revenge her death on him.
LAVINIA--(with cold deadly intensity) And I suppose you boast that
now you've done so, don't you?--in the vilest, most cowardly way--
like the son of a servant you are!
BRANT--(again thrown off guard--furiously) Belay, I told you, with
that kind of talk!
LAVINIA--She is only your means of revenge on Father, is that it?
BRANT--(stunned--stammers in guilty confusion) What?--She?--Who?--
I don't know what you're talking about!
LAVINIA--Then you soon will know! And so will she! I've found out
all I wanted to from you. I'm going in to talk to her now. You
wait here until I call you!
BRANT--(furious at her tone) No! Be damned if you can order me
about as if I was your servant!
LAVINIA--(icily) If you have any consideration for her, you'll do
as I say and not force me to write my father. (She turns her back
on him and walks to the steps woodenly erect and square-
shouldered.)
BRANT--(desperately now--with a grotesque catching at his lover's
manner) I don't know what you mean, Lavinia. I swear before God
it is only you I--(She turns at the top of the steps at this and
stares at him with such a passion of hatred that he is silenced.
Her lips move as if she were going to speak, but she fights back
the words, turns stiffly and goes into the house and closes the
door behind her.)
(Curtain)
ACT TWO
SCENE--In the house--Ezra Mannon's study. No time has elapsed.
The study is a large room with a stiff, austere atmosphere. The
furniture is old colonial. The walls are plain plastered surfaces
tinted a dull gray with a flat white trim. At rear, right, is a
door leading to the hall. On the right wall is a painting of
George Washington in a gilt frame, flanked by smaller portraits of
Alexander Hamilton and John Marshall. At rear, center, is an open
fireplace. At left of fireplace, a bookcase filled with law books.
Above the fireplace, in a plain frame, is a large portrait of Ezra
Mannon himself, painted ten years previously. One is at once
struck by the startling likeness between him and Adam Brant. He is
a tall man in his early forties, with a spare, wiry frame, seated
stiffly in an armchair, his hands on the arms, wearing his black
judge's robe. His face is handsome in a stern, aloof fashion. It
is cold and emotionless and has the same strange semblance of a
life-like mask that we have already seen in the faces of his wife
and daughter and Brant.
On the left are two windows. Between them a desk. A large table
with an armchair on either side, right and left, stands at left
center, front. At right center is another chair. There are hooked
rugs on the floor.
Outside the sun is beginning to set and its glow fills the room
with a golden mist. As the action progresses this becomes
brighter, then turns to crimson, which darkens to somberness at the
end.
Lavinia is discovered standing by the table. She is fighting to
control herself, but her face is torn by a look of stricken
anguish. She turns slowly to her father's portrait and for a
moment stares at it fixedly. Then she goes to it and puts her hand
over one of his hands with a loving, protecting gesture.
LAVINIA--Poor Father! (She hears a noise in the hall and moves
hastily away. The door from the hall is opened and Christine
enters. She is uneasy underneath, but affects a scornful
indignation.)
CHRISTINE--Really, this unconfirmed report must have turned your
head--otherwise I'd find it difficult to understand your sending
Annie to disturb me when you knew I was resting.
LAVINIA--I told you I had to talk to you.
CHRISTINE--(looking around the room with aversion) But why in this
musty room, of all places?
LAVINIA--(indicating the portrait--quietly) Because it's Father's
room.
CHRISTINE--(starts, looks at the portrait and quickly drops her
eyes. Lavinia goes to the door and closes it. Christine says with
forced scorn) More mystery?
LAVINIA--You better sit down. (Christine sits in the chair at rear
center. Lavinia goes back to her father's chair at left of table.)
CHRISTINE--Well--if you're quite ready, perhaps you will explain.
LAVINIA--I suppose Annie told you I'd been to visit Hazel and Peter
while you were away.
CHRISTINE--Yes. I thought it peculiar. You never visit anyone
overnight. Why did you suddenly take that notion?
LAVINIA--I didn't.
CHRISTINE--You didn't visit them?
LAVINIA--No.
CHRISTINE--Then where did you go?
LAVINIA--(accusingly) To New York! (Christine starts. Lavinia
hurries on a bit incoherently.) I've suspected something--lately--
the excuse you've made for all your trips there the past year,
that Grandfather was sick--(as Christine is about to protest
indignantly) Oh! I know he has been--and you've stayed at his
house--but I've suspected lately that wasn't the real reason--and
now I can prove it isn't! Because I waited outside Grandfather's
house and followed you. I saw you meet Brant!
CHRISTINE--(alarmed but concealing it--coolly) Well, what if you
did? I told you myself I ran into him by accident--
LAVINIA--You went to his room!
CHRISTINE--(shaken) He asked me to meet a friend of his--a lady.
It was her house we went to.
LAVINIA--I asked the woman in the basement. He had hired the room
under another name, but she recognized his description. And yours
too. She said you had come there often in the past year.
CHRISTINE--(desperately) It was the first time I had ever been
there. He insisted on my going. He said he had to talk to me
about you. He wanted my help to approach your father--
LAVINIA--(furiously) How can you lie like that? How can you be so
vile as to try to use me to hide your adultery?
CHRISTINE--(springing up--with weak indignation) Vinnie!
LAVINIA--Your adultery, I said!
CHRISTINE--No!
LAVINIA--Stop lying, I tell you! I went upstairs! I heard you
telling him--"I love you, Adam"--and kissing him! (with a cold
bitter fury) You vile--! You're shameless and evil! Even if you
are my mother, I say it! (Christine stares at her, overwhelmed by
this onslaught, her poise shattered for the moment. She tries to
keep her voice indifferent but it trembles a little.)
CHRISTINE--I--I knew you hated me, Vinnie--but not as bitterly as
that! (then with a return of her defiant coolness) Very well! I
love Adam Brant. What are you going to do?
LAVINIA--How you say that--without any shame! You don't give one
thought to Father--who is so good--who trusts you! Oh, how could
you do this to Father? How could you?
CHRISTINE--(with strident intensity) You would understand if you
were the wife of a man you hated!
LAVINIA--(horrified--with a glance at the portrait) Don't! Don't
say that--before him! I won't listen!
CHRISTINE--(grabbing her by the arm) You will listen! I'm
talking to you as a woman now, not as mother to daughter! That
relationship has no meaning between us! You've called me vile and
shameless! Well, I want you to know that's what I've felt about
myself for over twenty years, giving my body to a man I--
LAVINIA--(trying to break away from her, half putting her hands up
to her ears) Stop telling me such things! Let me go! (She breaks
away, shrinking from her mother with a look of sick repulsion. A
pause. She stammers) You--then you've always hated Father?
CHRISTINE--(bitterly) No. I loved him once--before I married him--
incredible as that seems now! He was handsome in his lieutenant's
uniform! He was silent and mysterious and romantic! But marriage
soon turned his romance into--disgust!
LAVINIA--(wincing again--stammers harshly) So I was born of your
disgust! I've always guessed that, Mother--ever since I was little--
when I used to come to you--with love--but you would always push
me away! I've felt it ever since I can remember--your disgust!
(then with a flare-up of bitter hatred) Oh, I hate you! It's only
right I should hate you!
CHRISTINE--(shaken--defensively) I tried to love you. I told
myself it wasn't human not to love my own child, born of my body.
But I never could make myself feel you were born of any body but
his! You were always my wedding night to me--and my honeymoon!
LAVINIA--Stop saying that! How can you be so--! (then suddenly--
with a strange jealous bitterness) You've loved Orin! Why didn't
you hate him, too?
CHRISTINE--Because by then I had forced myself to become resigned
in order to live! And most of the time I was carrying him, your
father was with the army in Mexico. I had forgotten him. And when
Orin was born he seemed my child, only mine, and I loved him for
that! (bitterly) I loved him until he let you and your father nag
him into the war, in spite of my begging him not to leave me alone.
(staring at Lavinia with hatred) I know his leaving me was your
doing principally, Vinnie!
LAVINIA--(sternly) It was his duty as a Mannon to go! He'd have
been sorry the rest of his life if he hadn't! I love him better
than you! I was thinking of him!
CHRISTINE--Well, I hope you realize I never would have fallen in
love with Adam if I'd had Orin with me. When he had gone there was
nothing left--but hate and a desire to be revenged--and a longing
for love! And it was then I met Adam. I saw he loved me--
LAVINIA--(with taunting scorn) He doesn't love you! You're only
his revenge on Father! Do you know who he really is? He's the son
of that low nurse girl Grandfather put out of our house!
CHRISTINE--(concealing a start--coolly) So you've found that out?
Were you hoping it would be a crushing surprise to me? I've known
it all along. He told me when he said he loved me.
LAVINIA--Oh! And I suppose knowing who he was gave you all the
more satisfaction--to add that disgrace!
CHRISTINE--(cuttingly) Will you kindly come to the point and tell
me what you intend doing? I suppose you'll hardly let your father
get in the door before you tell him!
LAVINIA--(suddenly becoming rigid and cold again--slowly) No.
Not unless you force me to. (then as she sees her mother's
astonishment--grimly) I don't wonder you're surprised! You know
you deserve the worst punishment you could get. And Father would
disown you publicly, no matter how much the scandal cost him!
CHRISTINE--I realize that. I know him even better than you do!
LAVINIA--And I'd like to see you punished for your wickedness! So
please understand this isn't for your sake. It's for Father's. He
hasn't been well lately. I'm not going to have him hurt! It's my
first duty to protect him from you!
CHRISTINE--I know better than to expect any generosity on my
account.
LAVINIA--I won't tell him, provided you give up Brant and never see
him again--and promise to be a dutiful wife to Father and make up
for the wrong you've done him!
CHRISTINE--(stares at her daughter--a pause--then she laughs dryly)
What a fraud you are, with your talk of your father and your duty!
Oh, I'm not denying you want to save his pride--and I know how
anxious you are to keep the family from more scandal! But all the
same, that's not your real reason for sparing me!
LAVINIA--(confused--guiltily) It is!
CHRISTINE--You wanted Adam Brant yourself!
LAVINIA--That's a lie!
CHRISTINE--And now you know you can't have him, you're determined
that at least you'll take him from me!
LAVINIA--No!
CHRISTINE--But if you told your father, I'd have to go away with
Adam. He'd be mine still. You can't bear that thought, even at
the price of my disgrace, can you?
LAVINIA--It's your evil mind!
CHRISTINE--I know you, Vinnie! I've watched you ever since you
were little, trying to do exactly what you're doing now! You've
tried to become the wife of your father and the mother of Orin!
You've always schemed to steal my place!
LAVINIA--(wildly) No! It's you who have stolen all love from me
since the time I was born! (then her manner becoming threatening)
But I don't want to listen to any more of your lies and excuses! I
want to know right now whether you're going to do what I told you
or not!
CHRISTINE--Suppose I refuse! Suppose I go off openly with Adam!
Where will you and your father and the family name be after that
scandal? And what if I were disgraced myself? I'd have the man I
love, at least!
LAVINIA--(grimly) Not for long! Father would use all his
influence and get Brant blacklisted so he'd lose his command and
never get another! You know how much the "Flying Trades" means to
him. And Father would never divorce you. You could never marry.
You'd be an anchor around his neck. Don't forget you're five years
older than he is! He'll still be in his prime when you're an old
woman with all your looks gone! He'd grow to hate the sight of
you!
CHRISTINE--(stung beyond bearing--makes a threatening move as if to
strike her daughter's face) You devil! You mean little--! (But
Lavinia stares back coldly into her eyes and she controls herself
and drops her hand.)
LAVINIA--I wouldn't call names if I were you! There is one you
deserve!
CHRISTINE--(turning away--her voice still trembling) I'm a fool to
let you make me lose my temper--over your jealous spite! (A pause.
Lavinia stares at her. Christine seems considering something. A
sinister expression comes to her face. Then she turns back to
Lavinia--coldly) But you wanted my answer, didn't you? Well, I
agree to do as you said. I promise you I'll never see Adam again
after he calls this evening. Are you satisfied?
LAVINIA--(stares at her with cold suspicion) You seem to take
giving him up pretty easily!
CHRISTINE--(hastily) Do you think I'll ever give you the
satisfaction of seeing me grieve? Oh, no, Vinnie! You'll never
have a chance to gloat!
LAVINIA--(still suspiciously--with a touch of scorn) If I loved
anyone--!
CHRISTINE--(tauntingly) If? I think you do love him--as much as
you can love! (with a sudden flurry of jealousy) You little fool!
Don't you know I made him flirt with you, so you wouldn't be
suspicious?
LAVINIA--(gives a little shudder--then fiercely) He didn't fool
me! I saw what a liar he was! I just led him on--to find out
things! I always hated him! (Christine smiles mockingly and turns
away, as if to go out of the room. Lavinia's manner becomes
threatening again.) Wait! I don't trust you! I know you're
thinking already how you can fool me and break the promise you've
just made! But you better not try it! I'll be watching you every
minute! And I won't be the only one! I wrote to Father and Orin
as soon as I got back from New York!
CHRISTINE--(startled) About Adam?
LAVINIA--Only enough so they'd be suspicious and watch you too. I
said a Captain Brant had been calling and folks had begun to
gossip.
CHRISTINE--Ah! I see what it's going to mean--that you'll always
have this to hold over me and I'll be under your thumb for the rest
of my life! (She cannot restrain her rage--threateningly) Take
care, Vinnie! You'll be responsible if--! (She checks herself
abruptly.)
LAVINIA--(suspiciously) If what?
CHRISTINE--(quickly) Nothing. I only meant if I went off with
Adam. But of course you know I won't do that. You know there's
nothing I can do now--but obey your orders!
LAVINIA--(continues to stare at her suspiciously--grimly) You
ought to see it's your duty to Father, not my orders--if you had
any honor or decency! (then brusquely) Brant is waiting outside.
You can tell him what you've got to do--and tell him if he ever
dares come here again--! (forcing back her anger) And see that
you get rid of him right now! I'm going upstreet to get the latest
news. I won't be gone more than a half-hour and I want him out of
the house by the time I get back, do you hear? If he isn't, I'll
write Father again. I won't even wait for him to come home! (She
turns her back on her mother and marches out the door, square-
shouldered and stiff, without a backward glance. Christine looks
after her, waiting until she hears the side door of the house close
after her. Then she turns and stands in tense calculating thought.
Her face has become like a sinister evil mask. Finally, as if
making up her mind irrevocably, she comes to the table, tears off a
slip of paper and writes two words on it. She tucks this paper in
the sleeve of her dress and goes to the open window and calls.)
CHRISTINE--Adam! (She moves toward the door to wait for him. Her
eyes are caught by the eyes of her husband in the portrait over the
fireplace. She stares at him with hatred and addresses him
vindictively, half under her breath.) You can thank Vinnie, Ezra!
(She goes to the door and reaches it just as Brant appears from the
hall. She takes his hand and draws him into the room, closing the
door behind him. One is immediately struck by the resemblance
between his face and that of the portrait of Ezra Mannon.)
BRANT--(glancing uneasily at her, as they come to the center of the
room) She knows--?
CHRISTINE--Yes. She followed me to New York. And she's found out
who you are too, Adam.
BRANT--(with a grim smile) I know. She got that out of me--the
proof of it, at any rate. Before I knew what was up I'd given
myself away.
CHRISTINE--She must have noticed your resemblance to Orin. I was
afraid that might start her thinking.
BRANT--(sees the portrait for the first time. Instantly his body
shifts to a fighting tenseness. It is as if he were going to
spring at the figure in the painting. He says slowly) That, I
take it, is General Mannon?
CHRISTINE--Judge Mannon then. Don't forget he used to be a judge.
He won't forget it.
BRANT--(his eyes still fixed on the portrait--comes and sits in
Mannon's chair on the left of table. Unconsciously he takes the
same attitude as Mannon, sitting erect, his hands on the arms of
the chair--slowly) Does Orin by any chance resemble his father?
CHRISTINE--(stares at him--agitatedly) No! Of course not! What
put such a stupid idea in your head?
BRANT--It would be damned queer if you fell in love with me because
I recalled Ezra Mannon to you!
CHRISTINE--(going to him and putting an arm around his shoulder)
No, no, I tell you! It was Orin you made me think of! It was
Orin!
BRANT--I remember that night we were introduced and I heard the
name Mrs. Ezra Mannon! By God, how I hated you then for being his!
I thought, by God, I'll take her from him and that'll be part of my
revenge! And out of that hatred my love came! It's damned queer,
isn't it?
CHRISTINE--(hugging him to her) Are you going to let him take me
from you now, Adam?
BRANT--(passionately) You ask that!
CHRISTINE--You swear you won't--no matter what you must do?
BRANT--By God, I swear it!
CHRISTINE--(kisses him) Remember that oath! (She glances at the
portrait--then turns back to Brant with a little shiver--nervously)
What made you sit there? It's his chair. I've so often seen him
sitting there--(forcing a little laugh) Your silly talk about
resemblances--Don't sit there. Come. Bring that chair over here.
(She moves to the chair at right center. He brings the chair at
right of table close to hers.)
BRANT--We've got to decide what we must do. The time for skulking
and lying is over--and by God I'm glad of it! It's a coward's game
I have no stomach for! (He has placed the chair beside hers. She
is staring at the portrait.) Why don't you sit down, Christine?
CHRISTINE--(slowly) I was thinking--perhaps we had better go to
the sitting-room. (then defiantly) No! I've been afraid of you
long enough, Ezra! (She sits down.)
BRANT--I felt there was something wrong the moment I saw her. I
tried my damndest to put her off the course by giving her some
softsoap--as you'd told me to do to blind her. (frowning) That
was a mistake, Christine. It made her pay too much attention to me--
and opened her eyes!
CHRISTINE--Oh, I know I've made one blunder after another. It's as
if love drove me on to do everything I shouldn't. I never should
have brought you to this house. Seeing you in New York should have
been enough for me. But I loved you too much. I wanted you every
possible moment we could steal! And I simply couldn't believe that
he ever would come home. I prayed that he should be killed in the
war so intensely that I finally believed it would surely happen!
(with savage intensity) Oh, if he were only dead!
BRANT--That chance is finished now.
CHRISTINE--(slowly--without looking at him) Yes--in that way.
BRANT--(stares at her) What do you mean? (She remains silent.
He changes the subject uneasily.) There's only one thing to do!
When he comes home I'll wait for him and not give Vinnie the
satisfaction of telling him. I'll tell him myself. (vindictively)
By God! I'd give my soul to see his face when he knows you love
Marie Brantôme's son! And then I'll take you away openly and laugh
at him! And if he tries to stop me--! (He stops and glances with
savage hatred at the portrait.)
CHRISTINE--What would you do then?
BRANT--If ever I laid hands on him, I'd kill him!
CHRISTINE--And then? You would be hanged for murder! And where
would I be? There would be nothing left for me but to kill myself!
BRANT--If I could catch him alone, where no one would interfere,
and let the best man come out alive--as I've often seen it done in
the West!
CHRISTINE--This isn't the West.
BRANT--I could insult him on the street before everyone and make
him fight me! I could let him shoot first and then kill him in
self-defense.
CHRISTINE--(scornfully) Do you imagine you could force him to
fight a duel with you? Don't you know duelling is illegal? Oh,
no! He'd simply feel bound to do his duty as a former judge and
have you arrested! (She adds calculatingly, seeing he is boiling
inside) It would be a poor revenge for your mother's death to let
him make you a laughing stock!
BRANT--But when I take you off, the laugh will be on him! You can
come on the "Flying Trades."
CHRISTINE--(calculatingly reproachful) I don't think you'd propose
that, Adam, if you stopped thinking of your revenge for a moment
and thought of me! Don't you realize he would never divorce me,
out of spite? What would I be in the world's eyes? My life would
be ruined and I would ruin yours! You'd grow to hate me!
BRANT--(passionately) Don't talk like that! It's a lie and you
know it!
CHRISTINE--(with bitter yearning) If I could only believe that,
Adam! But I'll grow old so soon! And I'm afraid of time! (then
abruptly changing tone) As for my sailing on your ship, you'll
find you won't have a ship! He'll see to it you lose this command
and get you blacklisted so you'll have no chance of getting
another.
BRANT--(angrily) Aye! He can do that if he sets about it. There
are twice as many skippers as ships these days.
CHRISTINE--(calculatingly--without looking at him) If he had only
been killed, we could be married now and I would bring you my share
of the Mannon estate. That would only be justice. It's yours by
right. It's what his father stole from yours.
BRANT--That's true enough, damn him!
CHRISTINE--You wouldn't have to worry about commands or owners'
favors then. You could buy your own ship and be your own master!
BRANT--(yearningly) That's always been my dream--some day to own
my own clipper! And Clark and Dawson would be willing to sell the
"Flying Trades." (then forgetting everything in his enthusiasm)
You've seen her, Christine. She's as beautiful a ship as you're a
woman. Aye, the two of you are like sisters. If she was mine, I'd
take you on a honeymoon then! To China--and on the voyage back,
we'd stop at the South Pacific Islands I've told you about. By
God, there's the right place for love and a honeymoon!
CHRISTINE--(slowly) Yes--but Ezra is alive!
BRANT--(brought back to earth--gloomily) I know it's only a dream.
CHRISTINE--(turning to stare at him--slowly) You can have your
dream--and I can have mine. There is a way. (then turning away
again) You remember my telling you he had written complaining of
pains about his heart?
BRANT--You're surely not hoping--
CHRISTINE--No. He said it was nothing serious. But I've let it be
known that he has heart trouble. I went to see our old family
doctor and told him about Ezra's letter. I pretended to be
dreadfully worried, until I got him worried too. He's the town's
worst old gossip. I'm sure everyone knows about Ezra's weak heart
by this time.
BRANT--What are you driving at, Christine?
CHRISTINE--Something I've been thinking of ever since I realized he
might soon come home. And now that Vinnie--but even if we didn't
have to consider her, it'd be the only way! I couldn't fool him
long. He's a strange, hidden man. His silence always creeps into
my thoughts. Even if he never spoke, I would feel what was in his
mind and some night, lying beside him, it would drive me mad and
I'd have to kill his silence by screaming out the truth! (She has
been staring before her--now she suddenly turns on Brant--slowly)
If he died suddenly now, no one would think it was anything but
heart failure. I've been reading a book in Father's medical
library. I saw it there one day a few weeks ago--it was as if some
fate in me forced me to see it! (She reaches in the sleeve of her
dress and takes out the slip of paper she had written on.) I've
written something here. I want you to get it for me. (His fingers
close on it mechanically. He stares at it with a strange stupid
dread. She hurries on so as not to give him time for reflection.)
The work on the "Flying Trades" is all finished, isn't it? You
sail to Boston tomorrow, to wait for cargo?
BRANT--(dully) Aye.
CHRISTINE--Get this at some druggist's down by the waterfront the
minute you reach there. You can make up some story about a sick
dog on your ship. As soon as you get it, mail it to me here. I'll
be on the lookout, so Vinnie will never know it came. Then you
must wait on the "Flying Trades" until you hear from me or I come
to you--afterward!
BRANT--(dully) But how can you do it--so no one will suspect?
CHRISTINE--He's taking medicine. I'll give him his medicine. Oh,
I've planned it carefully.
BRANT--But--if he dies suddenly, won't Vinnie--
CHRISTINE--There'll be no reason for her to suspect. She's worried
already about his heart. Besides, she may hate me, but she would
never think--
BRANT--Orin will be coming home, too.
CHRISTINE--Orin will believe anything I want him to. As for the
people here, they'd never dream of such a thing in the Mannon
house! And the sooner I do it, the less suspicion there'll be!
They will think the excitement of coming home and the reaction were
too much for his weak heart! Doctor Blake will think so. I'll see
that's what he thinks.
BRANT--(harshly) Poison! It's a coward's trick!
CHRISTINE--(with fierce scorn now, seeing the necessity of goading
him) Do you think you would be braver to give me up to him and let
him take away your ship?
BRANT--No!
CHRISTINE--Didn't you say you wanted to kill him?
BRANT--Aye! But I'd give him his chance!
CHRISTINE--Did he give your mother her chance?
BRANT--(aroused) No, damn him!
CHRISTINE--Then what makes you suddenly so scrupulous about his
death? (with a sneer) It must be the Mannon in you coming out!
Are you going to prove, the first time your love is put to a real
test, that you're a weak coward like your father?
BRANT--Christine! If it was any man said that to me--!
CHRISTINE--(passionately) Have you thought of this side of his
homecoming--that he's coming back to my bed? If you love me as
much as you claim, I should think that would rid you of any
scruples! If it was a question of some woman taking you from me, I
wouldn't have qualms about which was or wasn't the way to kill her!
(more tauntingly) But perhaps your love has been only a lie you
told me--to take the sneaking revenge on him of being a backstairs
lover! Perhaps--
BRANT--(stung, grabbing her by the shoulders--fiercely) Stop it!
I'll do anything you want! You know it! (then with a change to
somber grimness--putting the paper in his pocket) And you're
right. I'm a damn fool to have any feeling about how Ezra Mannon
dies!
CHRISTINE--(A look of exultant satisfaction comes to her face as
she sees he is definitely won over now. She throws her arms around
him and kisses him passionately.) Ah! Now you're the man I love
again, not a hypocritical Mannon! Promise me, no more cowardly
romantic scruples! Promise me!
BRANT--I promise. (The boom of a cannon sounds from the fort that
guards the harbor. He and Christine start frightenedly and stand
staring at each other. Another boom comes, reverberating, rattling
the windows. Christine recovers herself.)
CHRISTINE--You hear? That's the salute to his homecoming! (She
kisses him--with fierce insistence) Remember your mother's death!
Remember your dream of your own ship! Above all, remember you'll
have me!--all your own--your wife! (then urgently) And now you
must go! She'll be coming back--and you're not good at hiding your
thoughts. (urging him toward the door) Hurry! I don't want you
to meet her! (The cannon at the fort keep booming at regular
intervals until the end of the scene. Brant goes out in the hall
and a moment later the front door is heard closing after him.
Christine hurries from the door to the window and watches him from
behind the curtains as he goes down the drive. She is in a state
of tense, exultant excitement. Then, as if an idea had suddenly
come to her, she speaks to his retreating figure with a strange
sinister air of elation.) You'll never dare leave me now, Adam--
for your ships or your sea or your naked Island girls--when I grow
old and ugly! (She turns back from the window. Her eyes are
caught by the eyes of her husband in the portrait and for a moment
she stares back into them, as if fascinated. Then she jerks her
glance away and, with a little shudder she cannot repress, turns
and walks quickly from the room and closes the door behind her.)
(Curtain)
ACT THREE
SCENE--The same as Act One, Scene One--exterior of the Mannon
house. It is around nine o'clock of a night a week later. The
light of a half moon falls on the house, giving it an unreal,
detached, eerie quality. The pure white temple front seems more
than ever like an incongruous mask fixed on the somber, stone
house. All the shutters are closed. The white columns of the
portico cast black bars of shadow on the gray wall behind them.
The trunk of the pine at right is an ebony pillar, its branches a
mass of shade.
Lavinia is sitting on the top of the steps to the portico. She is
dressed, as before, severely in black. Her thin figure, seated
stiffly upright, arms against her sides, the legs close together,
the shoulders square, the head upright, is like that of an Egyptian
statue. She is staring straight before her. The sound of Seth's
thin, aged baritone mournfully singing the chanty "Shenandoah" is
heard from down the drive, off right front. He is approaching the
house and the song draws quickly nearer:
"Oh, Shenandoah, I long to hear you
A-way, my rolling river.
Oh, Shenandoah, I can't get near you
Way-ay, I'm bound away
Across the wide Missouri.
"Oh, Shenandoah, I love your daughter
A-way, my rolling river."
He enters right front. He is a bit drunk but holding his liquor
well. He walks up by the lilacs starting the next line "Oh,
Shenandoah"--then suddenly sees Lavinia on the steps and stops
abruptly, a bit sheepish.
LAVINIA--(disapprovingly) This is the second time this week I've
caught you coming home like this.
SETH--(unabashed, approaches the steps--with a grin) I'm aimin' to
do my patriotic duty, Vinnie. The first time was celebratin' Lee's
surrender and this time is drownin' my sorrow for the President
gittin' shot! And the third'll be when your Paw gits home!
LAVINIA--Father might arrive tonight.
SETH--Gosh, Vinnie, I never calc'lated he could git here so soon!
LAVINIA--Evidently you didn't. He'd give you fits if he caught you
drunk. Oh, I don't believe he'll come, but it's possible he might.
SETH--(is evidently trying to pull himself together. He suddenly
leans over toward her and, lowering his voice, asks soberly) Did
you find out anything about that Brant?
LAVINIA--(sharply) Yes. There's no connection. It was just a
silly idea of yours.
SETH--(stares at her--then understandingly) Wal, if you want it
left that way, I'll leave it that way. (A pause. He continues to
stand looking at her, while she stares in front of her.)
LAVINIA--(in a low voice) What was that Marie Brantôme like, Seth?
SETH--Marie? She was always laughin' and singin'--frisky and full
of life--with something free and wild about her like an animile.
Purty she was, too! (then he adds) Hair just the color of your
Maw's and yourn she had.
LAVINIA--I know.
SETH--Oh, everyone took to Marie--couldn't help it. Even your Paw.
He was only a boy then, but he was crazy about her, too, like a
youngster would be. His mother was stern with him, while Marie,
she made a fuss over him and petted him.
LAVINIA--Father, too!
SETH--Ayeh--but he hated her worse than anyone when it got found
out she was his Uncle David's fancy woman.
LAVINIA--(in a low voice, as if to herself, staring at the house)
It's all so strange! It frightens me! (She checks herself
abruptly--turns to Seth, curtly) I don't believe that about
Father. You've had too much whiskey. Go to bed and sleep it off.
(She walks up the steps again.)
SETH--(gazes at her with understanding) Ayeh. (then warn-ingly,
making a surreptitious signal as he sees the front door opening
behind her) Ssstt! (Christine appears outlined in the light from
the hall. She is dressed in a gown of green velvet that sets off
her hair. The light behind her glows along the edges of the dress
and in the color of her hair. She closes the door and comes into
the moonlight at the edge of the steps, standing above and a little
to the right of Lavinia. The moonlight, falling full on them,
accentuates strangely the resemblance between their faces and at
the same time the hostile dissimilarity in body and dress. Lavinia
does not turn or give any sign of knowing her mother is behind her.
There is a second's uncomfortable silence. Seth moves off left.)
Wal, I'll trot along! (He disappears around the corner of the
house. There is a pause. Then Christine speaks in a dry mocking
tone.)
CHRISTINE--What are you moongazing at? Puritan maidens shouldn't
peer too inquisitively into Spring! Isn't beauty an abomination
and love a vile thing? (She laughs with bitter mockery--then
tauntingly) Why don't you marry Peter? You don't want to be left
an old maid, do you?
LAVINIA--(quietly) You needn't hope to get rid of me that way.
I'm not marrying anyone. I've got my duty to Father.
CHRISTINE--Duty! How often I've heard that word in this house!
Well, you can't say I didn't do mine all these years. But there
comes an end.
LAVINIA--(grimly) And there comes another end--and you must do
your duty again!
CHRISTINE--(starts as if to retort defiantly--then says calmly)
Yes, I realize that.
LAVINIA--(after a pause--suspiciously) What's going on at the
bottom of your mind? I know you're plotting something!
CHRISTINE--(controlling a start) Don't be stupid, please!
LAVINIA--Are you planning how you can see Adam again? You better
not!
CHRISTINE--(calmly) I'm not so foolish. I said good-bye once. Do
you think I want to make it harder for myself?
LAVINIA--Has it been hard for you? I'd never guess it--and I've
been watching you.
CHRISTINE--I warned you you would have no chance to gloat! (after
a pause) When do you expect your father home? You want me to play
my part well when he comes, don't you?--for his sake. I'd like to
be forewarned.
LAVINIA--His letter said he wouldn't wait until his brigade was
disbanded but would try to get leave at once. He might arrive
tonight--or tomorrow--or the next day. I don't know.
CHRISTINE--You think he might come tonight? (then with a mocking
smile) So he's the beau you're waiting for in the spring
moonlight! (then after a pause) But the night train got in long
ago.
LAVINIA--(glances down the drive, left front--then starts to her
feet excitedly) Here's someone! (Christine slowly rises. There
is the sound of footsteps. A moment later Ezra Mannon enters from
left, front. He stops short in the shadow for a second and stands,
erect and stiff, as if at attention, staring at his house, his wife
and daughter. He is a tall, spare, big-boned man of fifty, dressed
in the uniform of a Brigadier-General. One is immediately struck
by the mask-like look of his face in repose, more pronounced in him
than in the others. He is exactly like the portrait in his study,
which we have seen in Act Two, except that his face is more lined
and lean and the hair and beard are grizzled. His movements are
exact and wooden and he has a mannerism of standing and sitting in
stiff, posed attitudes that suggest the statues of military heroes.
When he speaks, his deep voice has a hollow repressed quality, as
if he were continually withholding emotion from it. His air is
brusque and authoritative.)
LAVINIA--(seeing the man's figure stop in the shadow--calls
excitedly) Who's that?
MANNON--(stepping forward into the moonlight) It's I.
LAVINIA--(with a cry of joy) Father! (She runs to him and throws
her arms around him and kisses him.) Oh, Father! (She bursts into
tears and hides her face against his shoulder.)
MANNON--(embarrassed--patting her head--gruffly) Come! I thought
I'd taught you never to cry.
LAVINIA--(obediently forcing back her tears) I'm sorry, Father--
but I'm so happy!
MANNON--(awkwardly moved) Tears are queer tokens of happiness!
But I appreciate your--your feeling.
CHRISTINE--(has slowly descended the steps, her eyes fixed on him--
tensely) Is it really you, Ezra? We had just given up hope of
your coming tonight.
MANNON--(going stiffly to meet her) Train was late. The railroad
is jammed up. Everybody has got leave. (He meets her at the foot
of the steps and kisses her with a chill dignity--formally) I am
glad to see you, Christine. You are looking well. (He steps back
and stares at her--then in a voice that betrays a deep undercurrent
of suppressed feeling) You have changed, somehow. You are
prettier than ever--But you always were pretty.
CHRISTINE--(forcing a light tone) Compliments from one's husband!
How gallant you've become, Ezra! (then solicitously) You must be
terribly tired. Wouldn't you like to sit here on the steps for a
while? The moonlight is so beautiful.
LAVINIA--(who has been hovering about jealously, now manages to
worm herself between them--sharply) No. It's too damp out here.
And Father must be hungry. (taking his arm) Come inside with me
and I'll get you something to eat. You poor dear! You must be
starved.
MANNON--(really revelling in his daughter's coddling but
embarrassed before his wife--pulling his arm back--brusquely) No,
thanks! I would rather rest here for a spell. Sit down, Vinnie.
(Christine sits on the top step at center; he sits on the middle
step at right; Lavinia on the lowest step at left. While they are
doing this he keeps on talking in his abrupt sentences, as if he
were trying to cover up some hidden uneasiness.) I've got leave
for a few days. Then I must go back and disband my brigade. Peace
ought to be signed soon. The President's assassination is a
frightful calamity. But it can't change the course of events.
LAVINIA--Poor man! It's dreadful he should die just at his moment
of victory.
MANNON--Yes! (then after a pause--somberly) All victory ends in
the defeat of death. That's sure. But does defeat end in the
victory of death? That's what I wonder! (They both stare at him,
Lavinia in surprise, Christine in uneasy wonder. A pause.)
CHRISTINE--Where is Orin? Couldn't you get leave for him too?
MANNON--(hesitates--then brusquely) I've been keeping it from you.
Orin was wounded.
LAVINIA--Wounded! You don't mean--badly hurt?
CHRISTINE--(half starting to her feet impulsively--with more of
angry bitterness than grief) I knew it! I knew when you forced
him into your horrible war--! (then sinking back--tensely) You
needn't trouble to break the news gradually, Ezra. Orin is dead,
isn't he?
LAVINIA--Don't say that! It isn't true, is it, Father?
MANNON--(curtly--a trace of jealousy in his tone) Of course it
isn't! If your mother would permit me to finish instead of jumping
at conclusions about her baby--! (with a grim, proud satisfaction)
He's no baby now. I've made a man of him. He did one of the
bravest things I've seen in the war. He was wounded in the head--a
close shave but it turned out only a scratch. But he got brain
fever from the shock. He's all right now. He was in a rundown
condition, they say at the hospital. I never guessed it. Nerves.
I wouldn't notice nerves. He's always been restless. (half
turning to Christine) He gets that from you.
CHRISTINE--When will he be well enough to come home?
MANNON--Soon. The doctor advised a few more days' rest. He's
still weak. He was out of his head for a long time. Acted as if
he were a little boy again. Seemed to think you were with him.
That is, he kept talking to "Mother."
CHRISTINE--(with a tense intake of breath) Ah!
LAVINIA--(pityingly--with a tinge of scorn in her voice) Poor
Orin!
MANNON--I don't want you to baby him when he comes home, Christine.
It would be bad for him to get tied to your apron strings again.
CHRISTINE--You needn't worry. That passed--when he left me.
(Another pause. Then Lavinia speaks.)
LAVINIA--How is the trouble with your heart, Father? I've been so
afraid you might be making it out less serious than it really was
to keep us from worrying.
MANNON--(gruffly) If it was serious, I'd tell you, so you'd be
prepared. If you'd seen as much of death as I have in the past
four years, you wouldn't be afraid of it. (suddenly jumping to his
feet--brusquely) Let's change the subject! I've had my fill of
death. What I want now is to forget it. (He turns and paces up
and down to the right of steps. Lavinia watches him worriedly.)
All I know is the pain is like a knife. It puts me out of
commission while it lasts. The doctor gave me orders to avoid
worry or any over-exertion or excitement.
CHRISTINE--(staring at him) You don't look well. But probably
that's because you're so tired. You must go to bed soon, Ezra.
MANNON--(comes to a stop in his pacing directly before her and
looks into her eyes--a pause--then he says in a voice that he tries
to make ordinary) Yes, I want to--soon.
LAVINIA--(who has been watching him jealously--suddenly pulling him
by the arm--with a childish volubility) No! Not yet! Please,
Father! You've only just come! We've hardly talked at all!
(defiantly to her mother) How can you tell him he looks tired? He
looks as well as I've ever seen him. (then to her father, with a
vindictive look at Christine) We've so much to tell you. All
about Captain Brant. (If she had expected her mother to flinch at
this, she is disappointed. Christine is prepared and remains
unmoved beneath the searching, suspicious glance Mannon now directs
at her.)
MANNON--Vinnie wrote me you'd had company. I never heard of him.
What business had he here?
CHRISTINE--(with an easy smile) You had better ask Vinnie! He's
her latest beau! She even went walking in the moonlight with him!
LAVINIA--(with a gasp at being defied so brazenly) Oh!
MANNON--(now jealous and suspicious of his daughter) I notice you
didn't mention that in your letter, young lady!
LAVINIA--I only went walking once with him--and that was before--
(She checks herself abruptly.)
MANNON--Before what?
LAVINIA--Before I knew he's the kind who chases after every woman
he sees.
MANNON--(angrily to Christine) A fine guest to receive in my
absence!
LAVINIA--I believe he even thought Mother was flirting with him.
That's why I felt it my duty to write you. You know how folks in
town gossip, Father. I thought you ought to warn Mother she was
foolish to allow him to come here.
MANNON--Foolish! It was downright--!
CHRISTINE--(coldly) I would prefer not to discuss this until we
are alone, Ezra--if you don't mind! And I think Vinnie is
extremely inconsiderate the moment you're home--to annoy you with
such ridiculous nonsense! (She turns to Lavinia.) I think you've
done enough mischief. Will you kindly leave us?
LAVINIA--No.
MANNON--(sharply) Stop your squabbling, both of you! I hoped you
had grown out of that nonsense! I won't have it in my house!
LAVINIA--(obediently) Yes, Father.
MANNON--It must be your bedtime, Vinnie.
LAVINIA--Yes, Father. (She comes and kisses him--excitedly) Oh,
I'm so happy you're here! Don't let Mother make you believe I--
You're the only man I'll ever love! I'm going to stay with you!
MANNON--(patting her hair--with gruff tenderness) I hope so. I
want you to remain my little girl--for a while longer, at least.
(then suddenly catching Christine's scornful glance--pushes Lavinia
away--brusquely) March now!
LAVINIA--Yes, Father. (She goes up the steps past her mother
without a look. Behind her mother, in the portico, she stops and
turns.) Don't let anything worry you, Father. I'll always take
care of you. (She goes in. Mannon looks at his wife who stares
before her. He clears his throat as if about to say something--
then starts pacing self-consciously up and down at the right of
steps.)
CHRISTINE--(forcing a gentle tone) Sit down, Ezra. You will only
make yourself more tired, keeping on your feet. (He sits awkwardly
two steps below her, on her left, turned sideways to face her. She
asks with disarming simplicity) Now please tell me just what it is
you suspect me of?
MANNON--(taken aback) What makes you think I suspect you?
CHRISTINE--Everything! I've felt your distrust from the moment you
came. Your eyes have been probing me, as if you were a judge again
and I were the prisoner.
MANNON--(guiltily) I--?
CHRISTINE--And all on account of a stupid letter Vinnie had no
business to write. It seems to me a late day, when I am an old
woman with grown-up children, to accuse me of flirting with a
stupid ship captain!
MANNON--(impressed and relieved--placatingly) There's no question
of accusing you of that. I only think you've been foolish to give
the gossips a chance to be malicious.
CHRISTINE--Are you sure that's all you have in your heart against
me?
MANNON--Yes! Of course! What else? (patting her hand
embarrassedly) We'll say no more about it. (Then he adds gruffly)
But I'd like you to explain how this Brant happened--
CHRISTINE--I'm only too glad to! I met him at Father's. Father
has taken a fancy to him for some reason. So when he called here I
couldn't be rude, could I? I hinted that his visits weren't
welcome, but men of his type don't understand hints. But he's only
been here four times in all, I think. And as for there having been
gossip, that's nonsense! The only talk has been that he came to
court Vinnie! You can ask anyone in town.
MANNON--Damn his impudence! It was your duty to tell him flatly he
wasn't wanted!
CHRISTINE--(forcing a contrite air) Well, I must confess I didn't
mind his coming as much as I might have--for one reason. He always
brought me news of Father. Father's been sick for the past year,
as I wrote you. (then with a twitch of the lips, as if she were
restraining a derisive smile) You can't realize what a strain I've
been under--worrying about Father and Orin and--you.
MANNON--(deeply moved, turns to her and takes her hand in both of
his--awkwardly) Christine--I deeply regret--having been unjust.
(He kisses her hand impulsively--then embarrassed by this show of
emotion, adds in a gruff, joking tone) Afraid old Johnny Reb would
pick me off, were you?
CHRISTINE--(controlling a wild impulse to burst into derisive
laughter) Do you need to ask that? (A pause. He stares at her,
fascinated and stirred.)
MANNON--(finally blurts out) I've dreamed of coming home to you,
Christine! (leans toward her, his voice trembling with desire and
a feeling of strangeness and awe--touching her hair with an awkward
caress) You're beautiful! You look more beautiful than ever--and
strange to me. I don't know you. You're younger. I feel like an
old man beside you. Only your hair is the same--your strange
beautiful hair I always--
CHRISTINE--(with a start of repulsion, shrinking from his hand)
Don't! (then as he turns away, hurt and resentful at this rebuff--
hastily) I'm sorry, Ezra. I didn't mean--I--I'm nervous tonight.
(Mannon paces to the right and stands looking at the trees.
Christine stares at his back with hatred. She sighs with affected
weariness and leans back and closes her eyes.)
CHRISTINE--I'm tired, Ezra.
MANNON--(blurts out) I shouldn't have bothered you with that
foolishness about Brant tonight. (He forces a strained smile.)
But I was jealous a mite, to tell you the truth. (He forces
himself to turn and, seeing her eyes are shut, suddenly comes and
leans over her awkwardly, as if to kiss her, then is stopped by
some strangeness he feels about her still face.)
CHRISTINE--(feeling his desire and instinctively shrinking--without
opening her eyes) Why do you look at me like that?
MANNON--(turns away guiltily) Like what? (uneasily) How do you
know? Your eyes are shut. (Then, as if some burden of depression
were on him that he had to throw off, he blurts out heavily) I
can't get used to home yet. It's so lonely. I've got used to the
feel of camps with thousands of men around me at night--a sense of
protection, maybe! (suddenly uneasy again) Don't keep your eyes
shut like that! Don't be so still! (then, as she opens her eyes--
with an explosive appeal) God, I want to talk to you, Christine!
I've got to explain some things--inside me--to my wife--try to,
anyway! (He sits down beside her.) Shut your eyes again! I can
talk better. It has always been hard for me to talk--about
feelings. I never could when you looked at me. Your eyes were
always so--so full of silence! That is, since we've been married.
Not before, when I was courting you. They used to speak then.
They made me talk--because they answered.
CHRISTINE--(her eyes closed--tensely) Don't talk, Ezra.
MANNON--(as if he had determined, once started, to go on doggedly
without heeding any interruption) It was seeing death all the time
in this war got me to thinking these things. Death was so common,
it didn't mean anything. That freed me to think of life. Queer,
isn't it? Death made me think of life. Before that life had only
made me think of death!
CHRISTINE--(without opening her eyes) Why are you talking of
death?
MANNON--That's always been the Mannons' way of thinking. They went
to the white meeting-house on Sabbaths and meditated on death.
Life was a dying. Being born was starting to die. Death was being
born. (shaking his head with a dogged bewilderment) How in hell
people ever got such notions! That white meeting-house. It stuck
in my mind--clean-scrubbed and whitewashed--a temple of death! But
in this war I've seen too many white walls splattered with blood
that counted no more than dirty water. I've seen dead men
scattered about, no more important than rubbish to be got rid of.
That made the white meeting-house seem meaningless--making so much
solemn fuss over death!
CHRISTINE--(opens her eyes and stares at him with a strange terror)
What has this talk of death to do with me?
MANNON--(avoiding her glance--insistently) Shut your eyes again.
Listen and you'll know. (She shuts her eyes. He plods on with a
note of desperation in his voice.) I thought about my life--lying
awake nights--and about your life. In the middle of battle I'd
think maybe in a minute I'll be dead. But my life as just me
ending, that didn't appear worth a thought one way or another. But
listen, me as your husband being killed that seemed queer and wrong--
like something dying that had never lived. Then all the years
we've been man and wife would rise up in my mind and I would try to
look at them. But nothing was clear except that there'd always
been some barrier between us--a wall hiding us from each other! I
would try to make up my mind exactly what that wall was but I never
could discover. (with a clumsy appealing gesture) Do you know?
CHRISTINE--(tensely) I don't know what you're talking about.
MANNON--But you've known it was there! Don't lie, Christine! (He
looks at her still face and closed eyes, imploring her to reassure
him--then blunders on doggedly) Maybe you've always known you
didn't love me. I call to mind the Mexican War. I could see you
wanted me to go. I had a feeling you'd grown to hate me. Did you?
(She doesn't answer.) That was why I went. I was hoping I might
get killed. Maybe you were hoping that too. Were you?
CHRISTINE--(stammers) No, no, I--What makes you say such things?
MANNON--When I came back you had turned to your new baby, Orin. I
was hardly alive for you any more. I saw that. I tried not to
hate Orin. I turned to Vinnie, but a daughter's not a wife. Then
I made up my mind I'd do my work in the world and leave you alone
in your life and not care. That's why the shipping wasn't enough--
why I became a judge and a mayor and such vain truck, and why folks
in town look on me as so able! Ha! Able for what? Not for what I
wanted most in life! Not for your love! No! Able only to keep my
mind from thinking of what I'd lost! (He stares at her--then asks
pleadingly) For you did love me before we were married. You won't
deny that, will you?
CHRISTINE--(desperately) I don't deny anything!
MANNON--(drawing himself up with a stern pride and dignity and
surrendering himself like a commander against hopeless odds) All
right, then. I came home to surrender to you--what's inside me. I
love you. I loved you then, and all the years between, and I love
you now.
CHRISTINE--(distractedly) Ezra! Please!
MANNON--I want that said! Maybe you have forgotten it. I wouldn't
blame you. I guess I haven't said it or showed it much--ever.
Something queer in me keeps me mum about the things I'd like most
to say--keeps me hiding the things I'd like to show. Something
keeps me sitting numb in my own heart--like a statue of a dead man
in a town square. (Suddenly he reaches over and takes her hand.)
I want to find what that wall is marriage put between us! You've
got to help me smash it down! We have twenty good years still
before us! I've been thinking of what we could do to get back to
each other. I've a notion if we'd leave the children and go off on
a voyage together--to the other side of the world--find some island
where we could be alone a while. You'll find I have changed,
Christine. I'm sick of death! I want life! Maybe you could love
me now! (in a note of final desperate pleading) I've got to make
you love me!
CHRISTINE--(pulls her hand away from him and springs to her feet
wildly) For God's sake, stop talking. I don't know what you're
saying. Leave me alone! What must be, must be! You make me weak!
(then abruptly) It's getting late.
MANNON--(terribly wounded, withdrawn into his stiff soldier armor--
takes out his watch mechanically) Yes--six past eleven. Time to
turn in. (He ascends two steps, his face toward the door. He says
bitterly) You tell me to stop talking! By God, that's funny!
CHRISTINE--(collected now and calculating--takes hold of his arm,
seductively) I meant--what is the good of words? There is no wall
between us. I love you.
MANNON--(grabs her by the shoulders and stares into her face)
Christine! I'd give my soul to believe that--but--I'm afraid!
(She kisses him. He presses her fiercely in his arms--passionately)
Christine! (The door behind him is opened and Lavinia appears at
the edge of the portico behind and above him. She wears slippers
over her bare feet and has a dark dressing-gown over her night
dress. She shrinks back from their embrace with aversion. They
separate, startled.)
MANNON--(embarrassed--irritably) Thought you'd gone to bed, young
lady!
LAVINIA--(woodenly) I didn't feel sleepy. I thought I'd walk a
little. It's such a fine night.
CHRISTINE--We are just going to bed. Your father is tired. (She
moves up, past her daughter, taking Mannon's hand, leading him
after her to the door.)
MANNON--No time for a walk, if you ask me. See you turn in soon.
LAVINIA--Yes, Father.
MANNON--Good night. (The door closes behind them. Lavinia stands
staring before her--then walks stiffly down the steps and stands
again. Light appears between the chinks of the shutters in the
bedroom on the second floor to the left. She looks up.)
LAVINIA--(in an anguish of jealous hatred) I hate you! You steal
even Father's love from me again! You stole all love from me when
I was born! (then almost with a sob, hiding her face in her hands)
Oh, Mother! Why have you done this to me? What harm had I done
you? (then looking up at the window again--with passionate
disgust) Father, how can you love that shameless harlot? (then
frenziedly) I can't bear it! I won't! It's my duty to tell him
about her! I will! (She calls desperately) Father! Father!
(The shutter of the bedroom is pushed open and Mannon leans out.)
MANNON--(sharply) What is it? Don't shout like that!
LAVINIA--(stammers lamely) I--I remembered I forgot to say good
night, Father.
MANNON--(exasperated) Good heavens! What--(then gently) Oh--all
right--good night, Vinnie. Get to bed soon, like a good girl.
LAVINIA--Yes, Father. Good night. (He goes back in the bedroom
and pulls the shutter closed. She stands staring fascinatedly up
at the window, wringing her hands in a pitiful desperation.)
(Curtain)
ACT FOUR
SCENE--Ezra Mannon's bedroom. A big four-poster bed is at rear,
center, the foot front, the head against the rear wall. A small
stand, with a candle on it, is by the head of the bed on the left.
To the left of the stand is a door leading into Christine's room.
The door is open. In the left wall are two windows. At left,
front, is a table with a lamp on it and a chair beside it. In the
right wall, front, is a door leading to the hall. Further back,
against the wall, is a bureau.
None of these details can be discerned at first because the room is
in darkness, except for what moonlight filters feebly through the
shutters. It is around dawn of the following morning.
Christine's form can be made out, a pale ghost in the darkness, as
she slips slowly and stealthily from the bed. She tiptoes to the
table, left front, and picks up a light-colored dressing-gown that
is flung over the chair and puts it on. She stands listening for
some sound from the bed. A pause. Then Mannon's voice comes
suddenly from the bed, dull and lifeless.
MANNON--Christine.
CHRISTINE--(starts violently--in a strained voice) Yes.
MANNON--Must be near daybreak, isn't it?
CHRISTINE--Yes. It is beginning to get gray.
MANNON--What made you jump when I spoke? Is my voice so strange to
you?
CHRISTINE--I thought you were asleep.
MANNON--I haven't been able to sleep. I've been lying here
thinking. What makes you so uneasy?
CHRISTINE--I haven't been able to sleep either.
MANNON--You slunk out of bed so quietly.
CHRISTINE--I didn't want to wake you.
MANNON--(bitterly) Couldn't you bear it--lying close to me?
CHRISTINE--I didn't want to disturb you by tossing around.
MANNON--We'd better light the light and talk a while.
CHRISTINE--(with dread) I don't want to talk! I prefer the dark.
MANNON--I want to see you. (He takes matches from the stand by the
bed and lights the candle on it. Christine hastily sits down in
the chair by the table, pushing it so she sits facing left, front,
with her face turned three-quarters away from him. He pushes his
back up against the head of the bed in a half sitting position.
His face, with the flickering candle light on its side, has a grim,
bitter expression.) You like the dark where you can't see your old
man of a husband, is that it?
CHRISTINE--I wish you wouldn't talk like that, Ezra. If you are
going to say stupid things, I'll go in my own room. (She gets to
her feet but keeps her face turned away from him.)
MANNON--Wait! (then a note of pleading in his voice) Don't go. I
don't want to be alone. (She sits again in the same position as
before. He goes on humbly.) I didn't mean to say those things. I
guess there's bitterness inside me--my own cussedness, maybe--and
sometimes it gets out before I can stop it.
CHRISTINE--You have always been bitter.
MANNON--Before we married?
CHRISTINE--I don't remember.
MANNON--You don't want to remember you ever loved me!
CHRISTINE--(tensely) I don't want to talk of the past! (abruptly
changing the subject) Did you hear Vinnie the first part of the
night? She was pacing up and down before the house like a sentry
guarding you. She didn't go to bed until two. I heard the clock
strike.
MANNON--There is one who loves me, at least! (then after a pause)
I feel strange, Christine.
CHRISTINE--You mean--your heart? You don't think you are going to
be--taken ill, do you?
MANNON--(harshly) No! (a pause--then accusingly) Is that what
you're waiting for? Is that why you were so willing to give
yourself tonight? Were you hoping--?
CHRISTINE--(springing up) Ezra! Stop talking like that! I can't
stand it! (She moves as if to go into her own room.)
MANNON--Wait! I'm sorry I said that. (Then, as she sits down
again, he goes on gloomily.) It isn't my heart. It's something
uneasy troubling my mind--as if something in me was listening,
watching, waiting for something to happen.
CHRISTINE--Waiting for what to happen?
MANNON--I don't know. (A pause--then he goes on somberly.) This
house is not my house. This is not my room nor my bed. They are
empty--waiting for someone to move in! And you are not my wife!
You are waiting for something!
CHRISTINE--(beginning to snap under the strain--jumps to her feet
again) What would I be waiting for?
MANNON--For death--to set you free!
CHRISTINE--Leave me alone! Stop nagging at me with your crazy
suspicions! (then anger and hatred come into her voice) Not your
wife! You acted as if I were your wife--your property--not so long
ago!
MANNON--(with bitter scorn) Your body? What are bodies to me?
I've seen too many rotting in the sun to make grass greener! Ashes
to ashes, dirt to dirt! Is that your notion of love? Do you think
I married a body? (then, as if all the bitterness and hurt in him
had suddenly burst its dam) You were lying to me tonight as you've
always lied! You were only pretending love! You let me take you
as if you were a nigger slave I'd bought at auction! You made me
appear a lustful beast in my own eyes!--as you've always done since
our first marriage night! I would feel cleaner now if I had gone
to a brothel! I would feel more honor between myself and life!
CHRISTINE--(in a stifled voice) Look out, Ezra! I won't stand--
MANNON--(with a harsh laugh) And I had hoped my homecoming would
mark a new beginning--new love between us! I told you my secret
feelings. I tore my insides out for you--thinking you'd
understand! By God, I'm an old fool!
CHRISTINE--(her voice grown strident) Did you think you could make
me weak--make me forget all the years? Oh no, Ezra! It's too
late! (Then her voice changes, as if she had suddenly resolved on
a course of action, and becomes deliberately taunting.) You want
the truth? You've guessed it! You've used me, you've given me
children, but I've never once been yours! I never could be! And
whose fault is it? I loved you when I married you! I wanted to
give myself! But you made me so I couldn't give! You filled me
with disgust!
MANNON--(furiously) You say that to me! (then trying to calm
himself--stammers) No! Be quiet! We mustn't fight! I mustn't
lose my temper! It will bring on--!
CHRISTINE--(goading him with calculating cruelty) Oh, no! You
needn't adopt that pitiful tone! You wanted the truth and you're
going to hear it now!
MANNON--(frightened--almost pleading) Be quiet, Christine!
CHRISTINE--I've lied about everything! I lied about Captain Brant!
He is Marie Brantôme's son! And it was I he came to see, not
Vinnie! I made him come!
MANNON--(seized with fury) You dared--! You--! The son of that--!
CHRISTINE--Yes, I dared! And all my trips to New York weren't to
visit Father but to be with Adam! He's gentle and tender, he's
everything you've never been. He's what I've longed for all these
years with you--a lover! I love him! So now you know the truth!
MANNON--(in a frenzy--struggling to get out of bed) You--you whore--
I'll kill you! (Suddenly he falls back, groaning, doubled up on
his left side, with intense pain.)
CHRISTINE--(with savage satisfaction) Ah! (She hurries through
the doorway into her room and immediately returns with a small box
in her hand. He is facing away from her door, and, even if the
intense pain left him any perception, he could not notice her
departure and return, she moves so silently.)
MANNON--(gaspingly) Quick--medicine!
CHRISTINE--(turned away from him, takes a pellet from the box,
asking tensely as she does so) Where is your medicine?
MANNON--On the stand! Hurry!
CHRISTINE--Wait. I have it now. (She pretends to take something
from the stand by the head of the bed--then holds out the pellet
and a glass of water which is on the stand.) Here. (He turns to
her, groaning and opens his mouth. She puts the pellet on his
tongue and presses the glass of water to his lips.) Now drink.
MANNON--(takes a swallow of water--then suddenly a wild look of
terror comes over his face. He gasps) That's not--my medicine!
(She shrinks back to the table, the hand with the box held out
behind her, as if seeking a hiding place. Her fingers release the
box on the table top and she brings her hand in front of her as if
instinctively impelled to prove to him she has nothing. His eyes
are fixed on her in a terrible accusing glare. He tries to call
for help but his voice fades to a wheezy whisper.) Help! Vinnie!
(He falls back in a coma, breathing stertorously. Christine stares
at him fascinatedly--then starts with terror as she hears a noise
from the hall and frantically snatches up the box from the table
and holds it behind her back, turning to face the door as it opens
and Lavinia appears in the doorway. She is dressed as at the end
of Act Three, in nightgown, wrapper and slippers. She stands,
dazed and frightened and hesitating, as if she had just awakened.)
LAVINIA--I had a horrible dream--I thought I heard Father calling
me--it woke me up--
CHRISTINE--(trembling with guilty terror--stammers) He just had--
an attack.
LAVINIA--(hurries to the bed) Father! (She puts her arms around
him.) He's fainted!
CHRISTINE--No. He's all right now. Let him sleep. (At this
moment Mannon, with a last dying effort, straightens up in a
sitting position in Lavinia's arms, his eyes glaring at his wife
and manages to raise his arm and point an accusing finger at her.)
MANNON--(gasps) She's guilty--not medicine! (He falls back
limply.)
LAVINIA--Father! (Frightenedly she feels for his pulse, puts her
ear against his chest to listen for a heartbeat.)
CHRISTINE--Let him alone. He's asleep.
LAVINIA--He's dead!
CHRISTINE--(repeats mechanically) Dead? (then in a strange flat
tone) I hope--he rests in peace.
LAVINIA--(turning on her with hatred) Don't you dare pretend--!
You wanted him to die! You--(She stops and stares at her mother
with a horrified suspicion--then harshly accusing) Why did he
point at you like that? Why did he say you were guilty? Answer
me!
CHRISTINE--(stammers) I told him--Adam was my lover.
LAVINIA--(aghast) You told him that--when you knew his heart--!
Oh! You did it on purpose! You murdered him!
CHRISTINE--No--it was your fault--you made him suspicious--he kept
talking of love and death--he forced me to tell him! (Her voice
becomes thick, as if she were drowsy and fighting off sleep. Her
eyes half close.)
LAVINIA--(grabbing her by the shoulders--fiercely) Listen! Look
at me! He said "not medicine"! What did he mean?
CHRISTINE--(keeping the hand, with the poison pressed against her
back) I--I don't know.
LAVINIA--You do know! What was it? Tell me!
CHRISTINE--(with a last effort of will manages to draw herself up
and speak with a simulation of outraged feeling) Are you accusing
your mother of--
LAVINIA--Yes! I--! (then distractedly) No--you can't be that
evil!
CHRISTINE--(her strength gone--swaying weakly) I don't know what--
you're talking about. (She edges away from Lavinia toward her
bedroom door, the hand with the poison stretched out behind her--
weakly) I--feel faint. I must go--and lie down. I--(She turns as
if to run into the room, takes a tottering step--then her knees
suddenly buckle under her and she falls in a dead faint at the foot
of the bed. As her hand strikes the floor the fingers relax and
the box slips out onto one of the hooked rugs.)
LAVINIA--(does not notice this. Startled by Christine's collapse,
she automatically bends on one knee beside her and hastily feels
for her pulse. Then satisfied she has only fainted, her anguished
hatred immediately returns and she speaks with strident
denunciation.) You murdered him just the same--by telling him! I
suppose you think you'll be free to marry Adam now! But you won't!
Not while I'm alive! I'll make you pay for your crime! I'll find
a way to punish you! (She is starting to her feet when her eyes
fall on the little box on the rug. Immediately she snatches it up
and stares at it, the look of suspicion changing to a dreadful,
horrified certainty. Then with a shuddering cry she shrinks back
along the side of the bed, the box clutched in her hand, and sinks
on her knees by the head of the bed, and flings her arms around the
dead man. With anguished beseeching) Father! Don't leave me
alone! Come back to me! Tell me what to do!
(Curtain)
THE HUNTED
A Play in Five Acts
Part Two of the Trilogy
MOURNING BECOMES ELECTRA
CHARACTERS
CHRISTINE, Ezra Mannon's widow
LAVINIA (VINNIE), her daughter
ORIN, her son, First Lieutenant of Infantry
CAPTAIN ADAM BRANT
HAZEL NILES
PETER, her brother, Captain of Artillery
JOSIAH BORDEN, manager of the shipping company
EMMA, his wife
EVERETT HILLS, D.D., of the First Congregational Church
HIS WIFE
DOCTOR JOSEPH BLAKE
THE CHANTYMAN
SCENES
ACT ONE: Exterior of the Mannon house--a moonlight night two days
after the murder of Ezra Mannon.
ACT TWO: Sitting-room in the house--immediately follows Act One.
ACT THREE: Ezra Mannon's study--immediately follows Act Two.
ACT FOUR: The stern of the clipper ship "Flying Trades," at a
wharf in East Boston--a night two days later.
ACT FIVE: Same as Act One--Exterior of the Mannon house the night
of the following day.
The Hunted
ACT ONE
SCENE--The same as Acts One and Three of "Homecoming"--Exterior of
the Mannon House.
It is a moonlight night two days after the murder of Ezra Mannon.
The house has the same strange eerie appearance, its white portico
like a mask in the moonlight, as it had on that night. All the
shutters are closed. A funeral wreath is fixed to the column at
the right of steps. Another wreath is on the door.
There is a sound of voices from inside the house, the front door
is opened and Josiah Borden and his wife, Everett Hills, the
Congregational minister, and his wife, and Doctor Joseph Blake, the
Mannons' family physician, come out. Christine can be seen in the
hall just inside the door. There is a chorus of "Good night, Mrs.
Mannon," and they turn to the steps and the door is closed.
These people--the Bordens, Hills and his wife and Doctor Blake--
are, as were the Ames of Act One of "Homecoming," types of
townsfolk, a chorus representing as those others had, but in a
different stratum of society, the town as a human background for
the drama of the Mannons.
Josiah Borden, the manager of the Mannon shipping company, is
shrewd and competent. He is around sixty, small and wizened, white
hair and beard, rasping nasal voice, and little sharp eyes. His
wife, about ten years his junior, is a typical New England woman of
pure English ancestry, with a horse face, buck teeth and big feet,
her manner defensively sharp and assertive. Hills is the type of
well-fed minister of a prosperous small-town congregation--stout
and unctuous, snobbish and ingratiating, conscious of godliness,
but timid and always feeling his way. He is in the fifties, as is
his wife, a sallow, flabby, self-effacing minister's wife. Doctor
Blake is the old kindly best-family physician--a stout, self-
important old man with a stubborn opinionated expression.
They come down the steps to the drive. Mrs. Borden and Mrs. Hills
walk together toward left front until they are by the bench. There
they stop to wait for the men who stand at the foot of the steps
while Borden and Blake light cigars.
MRS. BORDEN--(tartly) I can't abide that woman!
MRS. HILLS--No. There's something queer about her.
MRS. BORDEN--(grudgingly honest) Still and all, I come nearer to
liking her now than I ever did before when I see how broken down
she is over her husband's death.
MRS. HILLS--Yes. She looks terrible, doesn't she? Doctor Blake
says she will have herself in bed sick if she doesn't look out.
MRS. BORDEN--I'd never have suspected she had that much feeling in
her. Not but what she hasn't always been a dutiful wife, as far as
anyone knows.
MRS. HILLS--Yes. She's seemed to be.
MRS. BORDEN--Well, it only goes to show how you can misjudge a
person without meaning to--especially when that person is a Mannon.
They're not easy to make head or tail of. Queer, the difference in
her and Lavinia--the way they take his death. Lavinia is cold and
calm as an icicle.
MRS. HILLS--Yes. She doesn't seem to feel as much sorrow as she
ought.
MRS. BORDEN--That's where you're wrong. She feels it as much as
her mother. Only she's too Mannon to let anyone see what she
feels. But did you notice the look in her eyes?
MRS. HILLS--I noticed she never said a word to anyone. Where did
she disappear to all of a sudden?
MRS. BORDEN--Went to the train with Peter Niles to meet Orin. I
overheard her mother talking to Lavinia in the hall. She was
insisting Peter should escort her to meet the train. Lavinia must
have been starting to go alone. Her mother seemed real angry about
it. (then glancing toward the men who have moved a little away
from the steps and are standing talking in low tones) Whatever are
those men gossiping about? (She calls) Josiah! It's time we were
getting home.
BORDEN--I'm coming, Emma. (The three men join the women by the
bench, Borden talking as they come.) It isn't for me to question
the arrangements she's made, Joe, but it does seem as if Ezra
should have been laid out in the town hall where the whole town
could have paid their respects to him, and had a big public funeral
tomorrow.
HILLS--That's my opinion. He was mayor of the town and a national
war hero--
BLAKE--She says it was Ezra's wish he'd often expressed that
everything should be private and quiet. That's just like Ezra. He
never was one for show. He did the work and let others do the
showing-off.
HILLS--(unctuously) He was a great man. His death is a real loss
to everyone in this community. He was a power for good.
BORDEN--Yes. He got things done.
HILLS--What a tragedy to be taken his first night home after
passing unharmed through the whole war!
BORDEN--I couldn't believe the news. Who'd ever suspect--It's
queer. It's like fate.
MRS. HILLS--(breaks in tactlessly) Maybe it is fate. You
remember, Everett, you've always said about the Mannons that pride
goeth before a fall and that some day God would humble them in
their sinful pride. (Everyone stares at her, shocked and
irritated.)
HILLS--(flusteredly) I don't remember ever saying--
BLAKE--(huffily) If you'll excuse me, that's darn nonsense! I've
known Ezra Mannon all my life, and to those he wanted to know he
was as plain and simple--
HILLS--(hastily) Of course, Doctor. My wife entirely
misunderstood me. I was, perhaps wrongly, referring to Mrs.
Mannon.
BLAKE--She's all right too--when you get to know her.
HILLS--(dryly) I have no doubt.
BLAKE--And it's a poor time, when this household is afflicted by
sudden death, to be--
HILLS--You are quite right, Doctor. My wife should have remembered--
MRS. HILLS--(crushed) I didn't mean anything wrong, Doctor.
BLAKE--(mollifiedly) Let's forget it then. (turning to Borden--
with a self-satisfied, knowing air) As for your saying who'd ever
expect it--well, you and Emma know I expected Ezra wouldn't last
long.
BORDEN--Yes. I remember you said you were afraid his heart was
bad.
MRS. BORDEN--I remember you did too.
BLAKE--From the symptoms Mrs. Mannon described from his letter to
her, I was as certain as if I'd examined him he had angina. And I
wasn't surprised neither. I'd often told Ezra he was attempting
more than one man could handle and if he didn't rest he'd break
down. The minute they sent for me I knew what'd happened. And
what she told me about waking up to find him groaning and doubled
with pain confirmed it. She'd given him his medicine--it was what
I would have prescribed myself--but it was too late. And as for
dying his first night home--well, the war was over, he was worn
out, he'd had a long, hard trip home--and angina is no respecter of
time and place. It strikes when it has a mind to.
BORDEN--(shaking his head) Too bad. Too durned bad. The town
won't find another as able as Ezra in a hurry. (They all shake
their heads and look sad. A pause.)
MRS. BORDEN--Well, we aren't doing anyone any good standing here.
We ought to get home, Josiah.
MRS. HILLS--Yes. We must, too, Everett. (They begin moving slowly
off left, Hills going with the two women. Doctor Blake nudges
Borden and motions him to stay behind. After the others disappear,
he whispers with a meaning grin)
BLAKE--I'll tell you a secret, Josiah--strictly between you and me.
BORDEN--(sensing something from his manner--eagerly) Of course.
What is it, Joe?
BLAKE--I haven't asked Christine Mannon any embarrassing questions,
but I have a strong suspicion it was love killed Ezra!
BORDEN--Love?
BLAKE--That's what! Leastways, love made angina kill him, if you
take my meaning. She's a damned handsome woman and he'd been away
a long time. Only natural between man and wife--but not the
treatment I'd recommend for angina. He should have known better,
but--well--he was human.
BORDEN--(with a salacious smirk) Can't say as I blame him! She's
a looker! I don't like her and never did but I can imagine worse
ways of dying! (They both chuckle.) Well, let's catch up with the
folks. (They go off, left. They have hardly disappeared before
the door of the house is opened and Christine Mannon comes out and
stands at the head of the steps a moment, then descends to the
drive. She is obviously in a terrible state of strained nerves.
Beneath the mask-like veneer of her face there are deep lines about
her mouth, and her eyes burn with a feverish light. Feeling
herself free from observation for a moment she lets go, her mouth
twitches, her eyes look desperately on all sides, as if she longed
to fly from something. Hazel Niles comes out of the house to the
head of the steps. She is the same as in "Homecoming." Christine
at once senses her presence behind her and regains her tense
control of herself.)
HAZEL--(with a cheering, sympathetic air) So here you are. I
looked everywhere around the house and couldn't find you.
CHRISTINE--(tensely) I couldn't stay in. I'm so nervous. It's
been a little harrowing--all these people coming to stand around
and stare at the dead--and at me.
HAZEL--I know. But there won't be any more now. (then a tone of
eagerness breaking through in spite of herself) Peter and Vinnie
ought to be back soon, if the train isn't late. Oh, I hope Orin
will surely come!
CHRISTINE--(strangely) The same train! It was late that night he
came! Only two days ago! It seems a lifetime! I've grown old.
HAZEL--(gently) Try not to think of it.
CHRISTINE--(tensely) As if I hadn't tried! But my brain keeps on--
over and over and over!
HAZEL--I'm so afraid you will make yourself sick.
CHRISTINE--(rallying herself and