Scene: The Church of the Nativity. New York.
The set, representing only the chancel, is as deep as possible, so
that, even when its foreground is brightly illuminated, the detail
back of that is lost in shadows. Pierced by three fine stained glass
windows, the rear wall looms above the altar, on which the candles
are not lighted. In front of that is the sanctuary, and, in front of
that, the communion rail, with three steps to the stage. Just right
of these steps is a very tall and beautiful Christmas tree. The tree
has been expensively trimmed, and has a practical connection for an
electric-lighted ornament still to be placed at its top. Down R., a
door to the choir room, and, down L., a door to the parish house and
the street. These doors are exactly alike. Down L., two folding wooden
chairs that have been brought in for temporary use. A tall stepladder
L. of the tree, facing front. Down R., two wooden boxes of ornaments,
that on top open and half emptied. There is a pile of tissue-wrapped
and ribboned packages under the tree, and a general litter of gifts,
boxes, and crumpled paper everywhere. The Church of the Nativity is
fashionable and luxurious;
the effect of the set must be that of a
peeping into a building spacious, magnificent, and majestic.
At Rise: Christmas Eve, 1918. The act begins in bright
day-light—about half past three in the afternoon—so that the early
winter twilight may have set in before its end. The sun's rays now
come through a stained-glass window above the door L., so that the
R. of the stage is bathed in white, the C. in blue, and the L. in
a deep straw. Two women and a girl are discovered. Mrs. Henry
Gilliam, bending over the box down L., is fat, forty, rich and
self-satisfied. Her daughter, Daffodil, commonly called
"Dilly," perched upon the ladder, is a "flapper." As regards her
mind, this means that, at twenty, she is wise and witty, cynical and
confident, worldly and material beyond her elders. Physically, she is
pretty, and, of course, has not hesitated to help out nature wherever
she has thought it advisable. Considering what has been spent on her
education, she is surprisingly ignorant and discourteous, particularly
to her mother, who bores her dreadfully. Leila Thornbury
is a divorcee; thirty, smart, good-looking, with something feverish
in her face, in her eyes, in her movements. Deliberately attractive
to men, she is disliked, in proportion, by women. All three are very
expensively dressed. Mrs. Thornbury has laid aside a fur coat on the
cost of which twenty families might have lived a year. She is at the
end of the stage, concerned with a number of dolls and other toys.
Mrs. Gilliam
[Turning with some ornament, on a level with her eyes she observes a
generous view of Dilly's nether limbs]: Dilly, for pity's
sake, pull down your skirt! [As Dilly pays no attention,
she continues to Mrs. Thornbury] I don't know what skirts
are coming to!
Dilly
They're not coming to the ground, mother. You can be sure of that!
Mrs. Gilliam
What I can't understand is why our young women want to go around
looking like chorus girls!
Mrs. Thornbury
Perhaps they've noticed the kind of men that marry chorus girls.
Dilly
Salesmanship, mother, begins with a willingness to show goods.
Mrs. Gilliam
Dilly! Pull down your skirt!
Dilly
I can't! That's all there is; there isn't any more!
Mrs. Thornbury
[Holding up two dolls]: What are we going to do with these?
Mrs. Gilliam
[Despairingly surveying the profusion]: Goodness knows!
Mrs. Thornbury
I've two engagements before dinner, and I've got to go home and
undress for the opera.
Dilly
I gave up a dance for this.
Mrs. Gilliam
A dance at this hour?
Dilly
People dance at any hour, mother.
Mrs. Gilliam
What do they do it for?
Dilly
For something to do. [To Mrs. Thornbury] We're young and
we've got to have life and gaiety; haven't we, Mrs. Thornbury?
Mrs. Thornbury
We've got to have something. I don't know what it is, but I know we
have to keep going to get it.
Mrs. Gilliam
But you all waste your time so dreadfully. I'm busy, too, but my life
is given to the service of others.
Dilly
What could be sweeter?
Mrs. Gilliam
Dilly! Nobody knows better than you that I've never had a selfish
thought! Mr. Gilliam——
Dilly
Of the Gilliam Groceries, Inc.
Mrs. Gilliam
Mr. Gilliam says I'm far too good!
Mrs. Thornbury
We agree with him, Mrs. Gilliam.
Mrs. Gilliam
Only yesterday I gave five hundred pounds of coffee and sugar to the
Salvation Army!
Dilly
And today father jumped the price of sugar to thirty-two cents!
Mrs. Thornbury
Now—Dilly!
Mrs. Gilliam
[With rising emotion]: One gets precious little reward.... I can
tell you! I sent helpful thoughts from the Bible to all Mr. Gilliam's
employes! Now they're on strike, and the man that got "Be content with
your wages" is leading the strikers!... Where's the Star of Bethlehem?
[To conceal her agitation, she has turned to the box.]
Dilly
It doesn't work, mother.
Mrs. Thornbury
Are those your husband's men—on the front steps?
Mrs. Gilliam
Oh, no! Those are people from the sweat shops! They're starving, I
hear, and Mr. Gilliam says it serves 'em right! [Bringing forth a
small case] What's the matter with the Star of Bethlehem?
Dilly
Oh, the usual! Whoever heard of the lights working on a Christmas Tree?
Mrs. Gilliam
[Holding up the star]: But this must work. Mrs. Tice had it made
to order—of Parisian diamonds. It cost a hundred dollars.
Dilly
[Reaching for the gewgaw]: All right! It's better than nothing!
[She takes it, and starts to ascend] Hold the ladder, mother! It
wiggles! [Mrs. Gilliam obeys.]
Mrs. Thornbury
[She has ribboned both dolls, and sets that just finished beside its
companion on the chair]: There! [Rises] I'm half dead, and there
can't be any more presents! [Starts up for her coat] I'd give my
left hand for a cigarette!
Mrs. Gilliam
Not here!
Mrs. Thornbury
I don't know why not. We've had almost everything else.
Dilly
Mother's so Mid-Victorian! And ministers are finding they've got to
do something to make church-going attractive. What do we get out of
it now? I've heard of preachers who go in for dances and movies, and
they draw crowds, too. Naturally! Who wouldn't go to church to get a
squint at Douglas Fairbanks? [She has hung the star] I'm through!
Mrs. Gilliam
Then come down.
Dilly
Believe me, I'm glad to get off this thing! [She descends
unsteadily] When I think I broke an engagement with the best
fox-trotter in New York to do a shimmy with a ladder——
[Mr. Barnaby, package-laden, enters L. He is the sexton,
and of the age, manner and appearance peculiar to sextons] Oh, Mr.
Barnaby!
Mrs. Thornbury
[Turns and is appalled at his burden]: What have you got?
Mr. Barnaby
Some more presents.
Mrs. Gilliam
Good Lord!
Mr. Barnaby
[Deposits his bundles on the steps L.C.]: Mrs. Tice brought
them. She and Mr. Jerry Goodkind. [Mrs. Gilliam nudges
Dilly] They're just coming in.
Mrs. Gilliam
[Sotto voce]: Dilly, powder your nose! [Dilly takes her
bag from the communion rail, and obeys] Mr. Barnaby, our star won't
light. Will you see if you can fix it? [Mr. Barnaby's mind
is on Mrs. Tice. She is much too rich to open a door. He is
edging L.]
Mrs. Thornbury
And Mr. Barnaby—— [Voices off L.]
Mr. Barnaby
One moment!
[He opens the door L. Enter Mrs. Tice followed
by Jerry Goodkind. Mrs. Tice has
just entered middle-age, and refuses to shut the door
behind her. Her wealth, which has given her an air of
great authority, has made it possible for her to look a
smartly-dressed young matron. The truth is that she is
clinging to youth in an ever-lessening hope of "keeping"
her husband. Beneath the "air of authority" is something
cowed, and worried, and unhappy. Just so, beneath the
smiling, careless surface of Jerry lies iron.
He can be
very ugly when he wishes, and he is always
sufficiently determined to get what he wants, though
he gets it generally by showing the urbane surface.
Jerry would describe himself as a "kidder." He
is 35; sleek, well-groomed, and perfectly satisfied with
himself. His most engaging point is a perpetual smile.]
Mrs. Tice
Hello, everybody! ["Everybody" returns the greeting] Who are those
people on the church steps? A lot of dirty foreigners blocking the
sidewalk!
Mr. Barnaby
It's the grating, Mrs. Tice. The furnace room's underneath, and
they're trying to keep warm.
Mrs. Tice
Well, let 'em try somewhere else! [Recollection of unpleasant contact
causes her to brush her coat] I don't mean to be unkind, but there
must be missions or something!
[Mr. Barnaby removes the coat, and then climbs to
attend to the star]
Mrs. Thornbury
We didn't hope to see you here, Mr. Goodkind.
Mrs. Tice
I met him in front of Tiffany's!
Jerry
The most dangerous corner in New York!
Mrs. Tice
And lured him here by mentioning that Clare Jewett was helping us.
Dilly
Somebody page Mr. Gilchrist!
Mrs. Gilliam
Dilly! What a way of saying that Clare is engaged to the assistant
rector!... Dilly's looking well today, isn't she, Mr. Goodkind? So
young, and——
Jerry
And fresh.
Dilly
Oh, boy!
Mrs. Tice
Do come and see what I've got for the girls of the Bible Class!
Mrs. Thornbury
Testaments?
Mrs. Tice
That's just it; I haven't! Bibles are so bromidic! I want to give
them something they can really use! And it's so hard to think of
presents for those girls; they've got everything! [Opening a small
parcel she has withheld from Mr. Barnaby] Guess how I've
solved the problem!
Mrs. Thornbury
I can't!
Mrs. Gilliam
I haven't an idea!
Dilly
I'm dying to know!
Mrs. Tice
[Impressively. Displaying the gift]: Sterling silver vanity cases!
Dilly
[Taking it]: How ducky!
Mrs. Thornbury
Charming!
Mrs. Gilliam
An inspiration!
Dilly
[Showing it to Jerry]: All complete—lip-stick, powder and
some nice, red rouge.
Jerry
[Cynically]: To put on before you pray?
Dilly
Precisely. To put on—before we—prey!
Mrs. Thornbury
[Gathering up her coat]: Well, good people, this is where I leave
you!
Mrs. Gilliam
[With the air of one bereft]: Oh, Mrs. Thornbury!
Mrs. Thornbury
I've done my "one kind deed" today, and I've an engagement for dinner.
Jerry
Permit me. [Helping her.] Some coat!
Mrs. Thornbury
Yes ... thanks.... See you all tomorrow at the Christmas Service!
Good-bye, everybody! And Mr. Goodkind! Miss Jewett's wrapping things
in the choir room! [Everybody laughs. She exits L.]
Mr. Barnaby
I'll just try those lights. [Exits L.]
Mrs. Gilliam
She has an engagement for dinner, but you notice she didn't say with
whom! I don't think they ought to allow divorced women in the church!
Mrs. Tice
[Virtuously]: The church won't marry them!
Mrs. Gilliam
That's the trouble!
Dilly
[Indicating]: The church will let 'em give stained glass windows!
Mrs. Gilliam
Where does she get all her money?
Mrs. Tice
Billy settled for thirty-six thousand a year!
Jerry
[With growing amusement]: Think of getting thirty-six thousand a
year out of munitions!... Gee, what a lot of lives that coat must have
cost!
[Everybody laughs, and, on the laugh, enter Dr.
Wadham. He is not the stage clergyman. On
the contrary, he is a very pleasant and plausible
person—plausible because he believes implicitly in
himself. He has passed sixty, and has a really kind heart.
But he has had no experience with life, and he has never
been uncomfortable.]
Dilly
[Hearing the door closed, looks around. Surprised]: Here's Dr.
Wadham!
Mrs. Gilliam
Why, Doctor!
Mrs. Tice
We didn't know you were back.
Jerry
I didn't know you'd been away, Doctor.
Dr. Wadham
[Shakes hands]: Ten days; attending a Conference on the Proper
Use of Eucharistic Candles. It's a subject on which I feel rather
strongly. [Turns R.] It's pleasant to see you, Mrs. Tice. And Miss
Daffodil.
Mrs. Gilliam
Isn't Dilly looking wonderful?
Dr. Wadham
Quite wonderful! [Glancing at the tree] And what a beautiful tree!
The star lights up, I suppose.
Dilly
Well, we have hopes!
Dr. Wadham
Don't let me interrupt. I've only dropped in to keep an appointment
with the wardens.
Mrs. Gilliam
We're all through, except for putting these gifts under the tree.
[She busies herself with that task] Miss Jewett will be in with hers
any minute. [Jerry, who has been contemplating an excursion
to the choir room, returns from the door, and helps Mrs.
Gilliam] The star is real imitation diamonds. A gift from Mrs.
Tice.
Mrs. Tice
[Joining Dr. Wadham L.C.]: Speaking of gifts, Doctor——
Dr. Wadham
Yes, dear lady.
Mrs. Tice
My husband wanted me to have a little talk with you about his check.
[She pauses for encouragement, finding what she has been told to say
a trifle difficult] You know, he promised five thousand dollars to
beautify the parlor of the Parish House.
Dr. Wadham
[Foreseeing trouble]: Oh, yes.
Mrs. Tice
And since then—well, frankly, Doctor, John was very much upset about
last Sunday's sermon. Mr. Gilchrist preached from the text about the
rich man entering the Kingdom of Heaven.
Dr. Wadham
Always a trifle dangerous.
Mrs. Tice
Yes, and last Sunday it seemed as if he were directing all his
remarks at John. We're in the first pew, you know, and John says he
doesn't like to complain, but there's getting to be altogether too
much of this—Bolshevism. John says the preachers are more than half
to blame for the present social unrest. I heard the sermon, and I
agree with John that some of it was positively insulting!
Dr. Wadham
Mr. Gilchrist is young.
Jerry
Mr. Gilchrist is a nut!
Mrs. Tice
Do you know what he said, Doctor? He said all this—"decking the
church"—was making an accomplice of God. He said we couldn't take
credit to ourselves for returning a small portion of our ill-gotten
gains!
Mrs. Gilliam
Small portion! When I've just given away five hundred pounds of
coffee!
Mrs. Tice
He said charity wasn't giving away what you didn't want!
Mrs. Gilliam
It was good coffee, too! Our second best coffee!
Mrs. Tice
Of course, what John objected to was the reference to rents—to
charging clerks and bookkeepers more than they could pay for "wretched
little flats." John says he doesn't come here to be told how to run
his business!
Mrs. Gilliam
Quite right! And I don't pay seven thousand dollars a year to hear my
husband's coffee roasted!
[They all laugh—the more because of the previous
tension. Mrs. Gilliam, surprised at first, sees
the point, and joins in the laughter.]
Well, you understand what I mean!
Dr. Wadham
We understand, Mrs. Gilliam.
Mrs. Gilliam
Personally, I'm very fond of Mr. Gilchrist. His father had stock in
our stores. But I don't think he's a good influence. This used to
be a really exclusive church. Now, whenever Mr. Gilchrist preaches,
there's such a crush of undesirable people in the galleries you can
hardly get to your pew. We don't have that trouble with Dr. Wadham!
[Clare Jewett enters R., her arms full of
parcels. Clare is 28. Smartly dressed, though in
a fashion that suggests thought rather than expenditure,
and pretty, in spite of a certain hardness. The next
sentence arrests her, and she stands in the doorway; not
eavesdropping, but not interrupting.]
Mrs. Tice
Mr. Gilchrist was such a promising young man!
Mrs. Gilliam
So rich, and happy!
Dilly
[Tantalising Jerry]: And in love!
Dr. Wadham
He's still rich, and in love, and, I think, he's still happy.
Jerry
I've told you; he's a nut!
Mrs. Gilliam
I wonder if that's it. Don't laugh! He wasn't like this before he went
overseas as chaplain. Is it possible he was gassed—or something?
Clare
Here's another armful of presents.
Dr. Wadham
Oh, how do you do, Miss Jewett?
Clare
I'm very well, thank you.
Jerry
[Starting to her]: Hello, Clare! This is a——
Mrs. Gilliam
[Intercepting him C.]: Surprise! Ha! And you've been waiting for her
half an hour!
Clare
[To Mrs. Gilliam]: I'm afraid we'll have to get Mr.
Barnaby. There are so many packages.
Dr. Wadham
Can't I help?
Clare
Will you, Doctor? And Mr. Hinkle's in there praying for someone to
consult about the Christmas music.
Dr. Wadham
I told Mr. Hinkle the choir'd better begin by singing, "Peace, Perfect
Peace, With the Loved Ones Far Away."
[Dilly laughs and turns up L., chanting "My
Wife's Gone to the Country." Scandalized, Mrs.
Gilliam hushes her.]
Mrs. Tice
And, Doctor! About the Parish House ... shall I tell my husband you'll
speak to Mr. Gilchrist?
Dr. Wadham
Yes, I think you may even tell him that's why we're here today. [He
exits R.]
Mrs. Gilliam
Dilly, do hurry!
Mrs. Tice
Can't I drive you home?
Mrs. Gilliam
Thank you so much! Good-bye, Miss Jewett. Good-bye, Mr. Goodkind. We
must arrange for you to come up to dinner as soon as the holidays are
over. [He bows] Dilly, say "good-bye" to Mr. Goodkind!
Dilly
Goodbye-ee!
[Mr. Barnaby re-enters L. The door closing
attracts Mrs. Gilliam]
Mrs. Gilliam
Oh, Mr. Barnaby, how about the lights?
Mr. Barnaby
I think the trouble's outside.
Mrs. Gilliam
You'll be sure to fix it? [Mr. Barnaby nods.]
Mrs. Tice
And will you put us in the car? [Mr. Barnaby nods again, and
goes L.] I rather dread that mob at the door. [She follows, groping
in her bag for a bill to
give Mr. Barnaby] Good-bye, Mr.
Goodkind ... and Miss Jewett, and, if I don't see you tomorrow, a
Merry, Merry Christmas!
[There is a chorus of repetitions of this wish, amid
which exeunt Mrs. Tice, Mrs. Gilliam,
Dilly and Mr. Barnaby.]
Clare
It's funny to find you in church.
Jerry
Why? My father's the senior warden.
Clare
[Laughs and takes up a parcel]: Whatever else you inherit, Jerry,
it's not likely to be religion!
Jerry
Religion doesn't trouble the old man much—except Sundays. I came here
to see you.
Clare
Why?
Jerry
You've been avoiding me.
Clare
Nonsense! Come help me with these parcels.
Jerry
I want to talk to you.
Clare
That's just it, Jerry. You always want to talk to me, and always to
say something I don't want to hear.
Jerry
Why not?
Clare
[Simply, but not very surely]: I'm in love with someone else!
Jerry
You're what?
Clare
[Looking defiantly into the mocking face quite close to hers and,
this time, with conviction]: I'm in love with someone else!
Jerry
You're in love with Clare Jewett!
Clare
You're very rude. I'm engaged to Mr. Gilchrist, and he loves me, and
believes in me, and your sense of decency and fair play ...
Jerry
Inherited from my father?
Clare
... should keep you from proposing to a woman who's going to marry ...
Jerry
You're not going to marry Mr. Gilchrist. [He lounges against the
ladder.] What's the use bluffing? We've known each other since
childhood. You know I'm not going to give up anything I want because
it belongs to somebody else. And I know you're not going to give up
what you want—comfort and luxury—for a crazy man who wears his
collar hind-side before!
Clare
Jerry!
Jerry
Now that's admitted, let's go on.
Clare
Mr. Gilchrist isn't exactly poverty-stricken!
Jerry
No; he got quite a lot of money from his father. You like him and when
you said "yes," you thought you were getting somebody you liked, and
all the rest of it, too. But something's gone wrong with Gilchrist,
and you know it!
Clare
Why do you say that?
Jerry
Because, if you didn't before, you heard this afternoon. I saw you
standing in the door. And I'm going to tell you a few things more!
Clare
I don't want to listen!
Jerry
Maybe—but you will! Do you know that your young trouble-hunter has
given away nearly one-tenth of his capital in three months?
Clare
No, and I don't believe it!
Jerry
All right; ask my father! The old man has his money in trust!
Gilchrist won't touch his income from Gilliam Groceries, because
they're profiteering, and he's preaching such anarchy that both
wardens are coming this afternoon to complain to Dr. Wadham! I don't
want you to throw yourself away on a raving bug!
Clare
And your advice is——
Jerry
Marry me. I'm a nice fellow, too—and I can give you what you really
care about. You're over your ears in debt, without any chance of
paying up—or cutting down. And you are, shall we say, twenty-nine in
October? I know what it cost you when your father died, and you had to
come down a peg. You don't want to keep on—coming down, do you?
Clare
And so—you advise me to marry you?
Jerry
Yes.
Clare
[Looking at him squarely and significantly]: Knowing all I do know
about you?
Jerry
I don't see how that concerns you.
Clare
It proves you don't love me.
Jerry
I want you, and I'm offering marriage to get you.
Clare
You haven't said one word of love.
Jerry
I've said: "What's the use bluffing?" I'm no movie hero—and no crazy
dreamer. I'm a little shop-worn, perhaps—maybe, a little soiled—but
I'm sane, and I'm solvent. You're good-looking, and smart, and a lady.
You'll help my standing and I'll help your credit. For the rest—we
needn't bother each other too much.... What do you say?
Clare
I say it's—revoltingly—sordid!
Jerry
[Looks at her an instant]: All right! [Takes out his watch,
looks at that, and crosses to L.] You think it's sordid at 3.45
on Christmas Eve. Well, keep your ears and your mind open, and
see how you feel in the morning. My telephone's six nine four two
Rhinelander—and this is the last time I shall ask you! [Puts his
hand on the knob].
Clare
Wait! [He turns back] Whatever you believe of me, I love Mr.
Gilchrist!
Jerry
Rhinelander six nine four two.
Clare
And, what's more, I'm going to marry him!
Jerry
Rhinelander six nine four two.
Clare
Jerry, I think you're the most detestable person I've ever known in my
life!
Jerry
[Laughing]: Rhinelander six ... nine ... four ... two!
[He exits L., leaving Clare humiliated and
fuming. She stands still a moment, and then starts to
exit R. At the tree, she throws down the parcels she is
still carrying, and, as she does so, Dr. Wadham
re-enters R.]
Dr. Wadham
Why ... Miss Jewett!
Clare
I'm nervous!... I want to finish up and go home!
[She exits R. Dr. Wadham looks after her;
then picks up the parcels. Jerry's father,
George Goodkind, enters L. He is about the
Doctor's age—sixty—but he has had vast experience with
life, and he enjoys comfort now because he has been very
uncomfortable. Goodkind is much like any other
successful business man you might meet—and like—at
dinner. He is brisk and economical of time,
but pleasant, and, unless his interests are involved, extremely amiable.
He does what he conceives to be his duty by his family, his
community, and his God, and feels that all three should
appreciate it.]
Dr. Wadham
Ah ... Mr. Goodkind! [Glances at his watch] You're early!
Goodkind
How do you do, Doctor? [Puts down his hat] Walked out of
a meeting. I don't like letting religion interfere with
business, but I wanted to get here before Benfield. It's
about young Gilchrist.
Dr. Wadham
Shall we go into my study?
Goodkind
Benfield's coming here, and I've only a few minutes. Did
you know Gilchrist proposes to preach a Christmas sermon
about the strike?
Dr. Wadham
What strike?
Goodkind
This garment strike. He announced his subject from the
pulpit, and Benfield's furious.
Dr. Wadham
Mr. Benfield isn't interested in clothing.
Goodkind
No, but he's invested heavily in my West Virginia coal
mines, and down there we're on the verge of the biggest
walk-out in our history. You see what I mean?
Dr. Wadham
Yes.
Goodkind
The labor problem's none of the church's business. Or any
outsider's business. It's a worrisome subject, and there's
no good stirring it up. That's what you want to tell
Gilchrist!
Dr. Wadham
I have told him ... frequently.
Goodkind
And what's the answer?
Dr. Wadham
He says every problem ought to be the church's business,
and that, until the church becomes a power in live issues,
it isn't a power in life!
Goodkind
He won't listen to reason?
Dr. Wadham
No.
Goodkind
Then he'll have to listen to something else. If he persists
about this Christmas sermon—[Barnaby enters
L. Goodkind turns. Impatiently] What is it,
Barnaby?
Mr. Barnaby
There's a man out there wants to see Mr. Gilchrist.
Goodkind
What kind of a man?
Mr. Barnaby
[Indifferently]: A poor man. I think he's a Jew.
Goodkind
Who ever heard of a poor Jew?
Dr. Wadham
Mr. Gilchrist isn't here.
Mr. Barnaby
I told him that, but he won't go away. I wanted to ask had
I better send for the police?
Dr. Wadham
Oh, I wouldn't do that!
Mr. Barnaby
Why don't he go over to the Synagogue instead of hanging
around a Christian Church? Mr. Gilchrist gave this fellow
his overcoat. I suppose he's come back for the gloves!
Dr. Wadham
Tell him I'll speak to Mr. Gilchrist. [Mr. Barnaby
shakes his head despairingly and exits.]
Goodkind
Well, there you are, and what I wanted to talk about
privately is ... what's got into the boy? Has he gone
crazy?
Dr. Wadham
I've asked myself that. I've asked myself if what he saw in
France——
Goodkind
Exactly. A lot of young fellows go off the handle and start
out to reform the world, but this lad has run through
twenty thousand dollars in less than three months!
Dr. Wadham
In addition to his salary?
Goodkind
Yes. I could understand if he'd spent the money on himself,
but he hasn't! He's given it away! [Dr. Wadham
shakes his head] Gilchrist's father was my first partner,
and I got the boy in here, and I feel responsible for
him. As trustee, I can refuse to turn over another penny
of his principal, and, as senior warden, I can demand
his resignation from this church. But I want him to have
every chance. Tell him if he'll get a grip on himself, and
reconsider tomorrow's sermon—— [Enter Benfield
L.] Here's Benfield!
["Charlie" Benfield is fifty, and a "rough
diamond." He is self-made, and proud of it, though nothing
really good—nothing of education, or refinement, or
knowledge and appreciation of fine things—has gone into
the making. He is arrogant, domineering, used to having
his own way, and to sweeping aside obstacles. He comes in
with his hat on his head, and it is a minute later, when
Dr. Wadham's
glance makes him aware of the fact,
that he removes it.]
Benfield
Hello, George! Howd'y', Doctor! Am I late?
Dr. Wadham
[Benfield's very presence makes him nervous]: We've been
waiting for you. Hadn't we better retire to my study if we're going to
discuss Mr. Gilchrist?
Benfield
We're not! We've been discussing long enough! All I got to say now is:
Gilchrist leaves this church or I do!
Goodkind
Now wait a minute!
Dr. Wadham
Isn't that a little mandatory?
Benfield
I don't know what it is, but it goes! I've worked hard all my life,
and now this fellow gets up and tells me what I've worked for is
nothing, and that I'm nothing, and all my ideas is wrong!
Dr. Wadham
He didn't say that.
Benfield
Oh, yes, he did—last Sunday and every Sunday! I've got two million
dollars tied up in Black River mines, and I'm not paying to have the
socialist papers down there print that my own minister is in favor of
strikes!
Goodkind
Wait a minute, Charlie! That's not the tone to take to Dr. Wadham! We
all feel that Gilchrist has gone too far, and we're agreed——
Benfield
Does he preach tomorrow?
Goodkind
We're agreed that if he insists on preaching about the strike——
Benfield
He goes?
Goodkind
He goes!
Benfield
All right. And if he don't insist?
Goodkind
He stays.
Benfield
And I go! [He gets his hat and returns. Daniel Gilchrist
enters L.] You can decide which of us is the most valu'ble to your
church! Because I tell you again—and straight—this church ain't big
enough for Gilchrist and me!
Daniel
[Smiling]: A church that isn't big enough for two little men, Mr.
Benfield, must be somewhat crowded for God!
[Benfield cannot trust himself to answer. He jams
his hat upon his head, and exits L. Gilchrist is
33. He was a football hero at college, and shows it. He was
a gentleman before he went to college, and he has been one
ever since, and he shows that, too. What he doesn't show
is what one expects in a "reformer"—narrowness, hardness,
something forbidding. An ascetic, beyond doubt, self-denial
has only made him trim and fit. The goodness that shines
in his face is partly good humor. He has honest eyes,
with fire in them, and there is strength and zeal back of
that—strength and zeal that will leave their mark later.
As yet, his exaltation is chiefly in his smile. His great
gift is charm—and sympathy. At this moment, he wears no
overcoat, and is glowing from the cold. Still smiling, he
looks after Benfield.]
Dr. Wadham
[Embarrassed]: Mr. Benfield is a little—ah—a little——
Daniel
Yes; a little.
[Goodkind crosses for his hat, and observes
Daniel, who is chafing his wrists.]
Goodkind
Pneumonia weather, Daniel! Where's your overcoat?
Daniel
Outside.
Goodkind
Oh, yes. There's a man out there, too, who says he won't go 'way until
he sees you. [He joins Daniel] Dan, you're an awfully
decent fellow, but I still think you made a mistake going into the
church. If you ever want to talk it over with me, I'd be glad to help
you—any time! You know that! Good-bye, Doctor! Good-bye, Dan, and a
Merry Christmas! [He exits L.]
Dr. Wadham
Daniel, you're in trouble.
Daniel
[Smiling]: Doctor, I'm used to it.
Dr. Wadham
This time it's serious. I've warned you often. I don't see how you can
have been so blind.
Daniel
I haven't been blind.
Dr. Wadham
Then you don't care for your position in this church.
Daniel
[With feeling]: There's only one thing I care for more.
Dr. Wadham
And that is?
Daniel
To be worthy of it.
Dr. Wadham
When you're as old as I am, Daniel, you'll understand that being
honest doesn't necessarily mean being disagreeable.
Daniel
Doesn't it mean—telling the truth?
Dr. Wadham
Do you know the truth, Daniel?
Daniel
Yes; don't you? Doesn't every man—in his heart? And if we want to
keep it in our hearts, and never think about it or look it in the
face, shouldn't someone pry open the door and cry: "Behold"?... I
didn't tell them anything they didn't know, Doctor. I don't know
anything they don't know. I just reminded them——
Dr. Wadham
[Exploding on the last word]: That we were heathen!
Daniel
That we were Christians, and every man our brother, and that we were
sitting, overdressed and overfed, in a Christian Church, while our
brother froze and starved—outside—in a Christian World!
Dr. Wadham
That isn't fair! These good people have given——
Daniel
Given—what cost them nothing! Frumpery and trumpery and diamond
stars! That's how all of us give—what we don't need; what we don't
even want!... You're a good man, Doctor, and, honestly, what would you
say tomorrow if your wife told you she'd sold her rings, and given the
money to the poor?
Dr. Wadham
Why, I——
Daniel
You'd say she was crazy!
Dr. Wadham
But there's no necessity——
Daniel
Oh, yes, there is! There'll be people lying in the parks tonight. What
would Mrs. Tice say if I invited them to sleep in her pew?
Dr. Wadham
That there's no reason why she should share dirt and disease!
Daniel
Exactly! We may believe in the brotherhood of man, but we know
about germs! We're not sure what is truth, but there's one thing we
are sure of, and mean to be sure of, and that's our own comfort!
You know that, and I know it, and they know it—but we mustn't say it!
All right; in God's name, what are we to say?
Dr. Wadham
[Who has been nervously regarding this raving as confirming the
worst fears of Mr. Goodkind]: Precisely. And that brings
us to tomorrow's sermon. I understand you intend to talk about the
strike. [Dan nods "Yes"] And that's not a very pleasant subject for
Christmas. Wouldn't it be more fitting to preach from the text, "Glory
to God in the Highest"?
Daniel
"And on earth, Peace, good will toward men"?
Dr. Wadham
[Delighted]: Yes! You might say, "There are many kinds of peace——"
Daniel
But there aren't!
Dr. Wadham
There is physical peace—peace that came with the end of this cruel
war!
Daniel
There is no peace! There is only fear—and hate—and vanity—and
lust, and envy, and greed—of men and nations! There are only people
preying on one another, and a hungry horde at the very doors of your
church!... My text will be: "And Peter followed afar off."
Dr. Wadham
I don't understand.
Daniel
[Into his tone, hitherto indignantly human, comes something
mystic—something divine]: We all follow—afar off.
Dr. Wadham
[Alarmed; not at the words, but at that "something divine"]: Daniel
... my dear fellow!
Daniel
Don't worry. I'm quite sane. Only—I've been wondering about that for
a long time.
Dr. Wadham
Wondering?
Daniel
What would happen if anybody really tried to live like Christ.
Dr. Wadham
[Shaking his head]: It can't be done.
Daniel
Isn't it worth trying? Men risk their lives—every day—in experiments
far less worth while. We've had centuries of "fear, and hate, and
greed"—and where have they brought us? Why not try love?
Dr. Wadham
How can you make them try?
Daniel
By showing that it would work.
Dr. Wadham
It won't work, Daniel. It's a beautiful ideal, but it won't work.
Times have changed, and things are different. Life isn't as simple as
it was two thousand years ago. The trouble with you, Daniel, is that
you're not practical.
Daniel
I wonder.
Dr. Wadham
And the great need of the church is practical men. We mustn't take the
Scriptures too literally. We must try to interpret their spirit. And,
above all, we must please our congregations, or we shan't have any.
And then what becomes of our influence? Better fall back on my text
for tomorrow, Daniel.
Daniel
I can't.
Dr. Wadham
At least, you must promise not to discuss the strike.
Daniel
I can't do that, Doctor.
Dr. Wadham
Or else let me take the pulpit.
Daniel
I won't do that! [A pause.]
Dr. Wadham
Very well! Preach your Christmas sermon, and afterward——
Daniel
Yes?
Dr. Wadham
I think you may find a greater field of usefulness elsewhere. [A long
pause. The men look at each other, and then Daniel turns
away to conceal his emotion. He goes up for his hat, and returns.]
I'm sorry, Daniel. I know you've been very happy in your work here. I
know how failure hurts. But you saw it coming, and you wouldn't turn
aside.
Daniel
[He looks up with flashing eyes]: The man who turns away from his
vision—lies! [Shakes hands] It's all right, Doctor. [He crosses
L. Clare Jewett, ready for the street, enters R.]
Dr. Wadham
[Brightly]: Well, Miss Jewett! [Daniel hears the name and
stops. He is consoled by her very presence] What's happened to the
choir?
Clare
Mr. Hinkle cut his finger. I've been applying first aid.
Dr. Wadham
Woman's traditional mission—to bind our wounds.
[He turns to exit, and sees Daniel. He is
struck by the double significance of his remark, and the
timeliness of Clare's arrival.]
Well, I must be going! Step into my study in the morning, Daniel, and
we'll have a look at your sermon! [He exits L. From here the lights
dim very slowly.]
Clare
I hope I never see another doll! Got anything on your mind, Dan?
Daniel
[Quickly]: What do you——
Clare
I mean anything special to do?
Daniel
Oh!—No.
Clare
Take me home.
Daniel
[He beams]: I'm getting my Christmas present early! [Gets his
hat.]
Clare
Where's your coat?
Daniel
Outside. That is—I lent it to a friend. Oh, I've got
another—somewhere!
Clare
But you can't go out without a coat. [Looks at wrist watch] Anyway,
I told the taxi man to come back at half past four. That's the worst
of not having a car. Well, we may as well sit down! [He assists her,
but his mind is afar.] What's the matter with you, Dan?
Daniel
Nothing important.
Clare
There will be if you insist on going around without an overcoat!
[Looking at him narrowly] You're too generous. [He is still afar.]
I say you're too generous! How are we going to be married if you go on
giving things away?
Daniel
[Laughs]: Is generosity a fault in a husband?
Clare
That depends. Is it true you've been giving away—well—large sums of
money?
Daniel
Who told you that?
Clare
A little bird. [He laughs] And that you've refused to take part of
your income?
Daniel
Little bird tell you that?
Clare
Yes.
Daniel
Must have been a cuckoo!
Clare
Is it true?
Daniel
About the money? Yes.
Clare
Why?
Daniel
Well, there's the strike, and a good deal of unemployment, and I've
got so much. Why—I've got you!
Clare
[Rises]: Let's not talk about it now. [She turns L. Hesitates;
looks at her wrist watch; looks off L.] Yes; let's!—You're so
changed. I hardly know you. We don't seem to want the same things any
more.
Daniel
What do you want, Clare?
Clare
I want to be happy.
Daniel
That's exactly what I want!
Clare
How can anybody be happy without money?
Daniel
How can anybody be happy with it? Anyway, do you think people are?
Happier than the people who just have enough?
Clare
In our day and age there's nothing worse than poverty! There's nothing
more degrading than having to scrimp, and save, and do without, and
keep up appearances! I've tried it ... ever since my father died ...
and I know! I can't do it any longer, and I won't!
Daniel
Clare!
Clare
[She turns away, and comes back somewhat calmer]: I don't want to
quarrel with you, Dan. I just want you to be sensible.... I love
you, but I love the good things of life, too. I like to be warm and
comfortable.
Daniel
You can be sure of that.
Clare
But that's only the beginning. I want good clothes, and furs, and my
car, and money to spend when I like. I want my own house, and my own
servants, and a husband who amounts to something. I'm no different
from other women of my class.
Daniel
I hoped you were.
Clare
A year or two ago people thought you were going to be a Bishop. Today
you've made an enemy of every influential man in the church. All that
may be very noble, but I'm not noble, and I don't pretend to be. I
don't feel any call to sacrifice myself for others, and I don't think
you have any right to ask it!
Daniel
I do ask it, Clare.
Clare
You mean you're going on like this?
Daniel
I mean I can't give you expensive clothes, and servants, and a big
house while all about us people are hungry.
Clare
What do you propose to give me?
Daniel
A chance to help.
Clare
To help wash the dishes, I suppose, in a three-room flat in a side
street!
Daniel
And to visit the sick, and befriend the friendless.
Clare
A charming prospect!
Daniel
It really is, Clare. You don't know how happy we can be with work, and
our modest plenty. There's so much to do—and they won't let me do it
here. We've got to get near the people in trouble, and we can't with
a big house and all that. I don't think we shall come to a three-room
flat. [He smiles] We'll have five or six rooms, and our books, and
each other.
Clare
I can't believe you're serious. You've always been a dreamer, but I
can't believe you're going through with this fantastic nonsense!
Daniel
I've chosen a narrow path, dear, but I hoped it might be wide enough
for us both.
Clare
It isn't. With your means and opportunities, you're offering me what
any bank clerk would give his wife. I thought you loved me, but you're
utterly selfish, and I think a little mad. You've a right to throw
away your own life, but you've no right to throw away mine. [She
hands him his ring] Our engagement is off. [A pause. She starts for
the door, and then hesitates, looks at her wrist watch, waits for him
to call her back. When he doesn't, she returns.] Don't you think
you're making a terrible mistake?
Daniel
[Looks up from the ring. Simply]: No. [Clare turns again,
this time quickly and with resolution, and
exits L. The church
is quite dark, except for light streaming from the open door R.
Dan looks at the ring, and puts it in his pocket. With his
back to the audience, he looks at the altar of his church. Suddenly,
from R., the organ is heard, playing "Hark the Herald Angels." He
crosses and closes the door. In the blackness, he hears a step.
The Poor Man has come on through the open door L.] Who's
there?... Are you looking for someone?
Poor Man
Yes.
Daniel
I'm the assistant rector ... Mr. Gilchrist.
Poor Man
I know you, Mr. Gilchrist.
Daniel
Oh, yes; I remember. You're the man who was cold. Can I do anything
for you?
Poor Man
I think you can.
Daniel
Let's have it then.
Poor Man
Perhaps I can help you, too.
Daniel
In what way?
Poor Man
In my way.
Daniel
My poor man, I wish you could!
[His despair impels him to confide in anyone]: I was so sure of what
I wanted to do, and now I begin to wonder if it can be done!
Poor Man
It has been done.
Daniel
But in this day—in this practical world—can any man follow the
Master?
Poor Man
Why not? Is this day different from any other? Was the world never
practical before? Is this the first time of conflict between flesh and
spirit? If it could be done then, why not now, and, if it was ever
worth the doing, why not now?
Daniel
But how?
Poor Man
We have been told how.
Daniel
"Take no thought of the morrow.... Sell whatsoever thou hast, and give
to the poor.... Love thy neighbor as thyself.... Bless them that curse
you, do good to them that hate you." But if a man did those things
today people would think him mad!
Poor Man
What does it matter?
Daniel
He would lose everything!
Poor Man
And gain everything!
Daniel
What good can one man do?
Poor Man
Why don't you try?
Daniel
He tried, and they crucified Him!
Poor Man
Did they? And if they did, what does that matter? Is a man dead whose
ideal lives? Ye crucified me, but I am with ye alway, even unto the
end of the world!
Daniel
In God's name, who are you?
Poor Man
I am a Jew!
[As he speaks, slowly the tree and everything beneath it
is illuminated by the Star of Bethlehem. The light, dim
at first, grows stronger and stronger, its rays revealing
sanctuary and picking out the points of the cross on
the altar. But where the Poor Man stood is
nothing. There is no one there. The spirit—if spirit it
was—has disappeared. The man—if man it was—has gone.
Daniel gives a cry, and, as he does so, the light
is extinguished, and suddenly, to the music that has been
heard faintly through the door R. during this scene, the
full choir sings: "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." In black
darkness
the curtain falls
