Part 16
LUKE. [_Pause._] Ah, so ye want us to do yer killin' fer ye, do ye?
REVENUE. You're my last hope. If I fail this time I may as well give it up.
LUKE. [_Takes out revolver, turns sidewise and secretly removes cartridges from chamber. Rises._] What wuz that noise?
[_Lays revolver on table and steps outside of door._ REVENUE _looks at revolver, apparently without interest_.
[LUKE _cautiously enters doorway and expresses surprise at seeing_ REVENUE _making no attempt to secure revolver. Feigning excitement, goes to table, picks up gun._
LUKE. I reckon I'm gettin' careless, leavin' a gun layin' around here that-a-way. Didn't you see it?
REVENUE. Yes.
LUKE. Well, why didn't ye grab it?
REVENUE. What for?
LUKE. To git the drop on me.
REVENUE. Can't you understand what I've been telling you, mister? I don't _want_ the drop on you.
LUKE. Well, doggone if I don't believe yer tellin' me the truth. Thought I'd just see what ye'd do. Ye see, I emptied it first.
[_Opens up gun._
REVENUE. That wasn't necessary.
LUKE. Well, I reckon ye better git along out o' here, mister.
REVENUE. You don't mean you're weakening?
LUKE. I ain't got no call to do your killin' fer you. If ye hain't sport enough to do it yerself, I reckon ye kin go on sufferin'.
REVENUE. But I told you why I don't want to do it. One murder more or less means nothing to you. You don't care anything about the hereafter.
LUKE. Mebbe I don't, but there ain't no use my takin' any more chances than I have to. And what's more, mister, from what you been tellin' me I reckon there's a charm on you, and I ain't goin' to take no chances goin' agin charms.
REVENUE. So _you're_ going to go back on me?
LUKE. Yes, siree.
REVENUE. Well, maybe some of the other boys will be willing. I'll wait till they come.
LUKE. The other boys ain't goin' to see you. You're a leavin' this yer place right now--now! It won't do no good. You may as well go peaceable; ye ain't got no right to expect us to bear yer burdens.
REVENUE. Damn it all! I've spoiled it again.
LUKE. I reckon you better make up yer mind to go on livin'.
REVENUE. That looks like the only way out.
LUKE. Come on, I'll let you ride my horse to town. It's the only one we got, so yu can leave it at Two Gun Jake's, and one o' the boys'll go git it, or I reckon I'll go over myself and see if Jake made a job of it.
REVENUE. I suppose it's no use arguing with you.
LUKE. Not a bit. Come on, you.
REVENUE. Well, I'd like to leave my address so if you ever come to New York you can look me up.
LUKE. 'Tain't likely I'll ever come to New York.
REVENUE. Well, I'll leave it, anyhow. Have you a piece of paper?
LUKE. Paper what you write on? Never had none, mister.
REVENUE. [_Looking about room, sees_ JIM DUNN's _picture on wall, goes to it, takes it down_.] If you don't mind, I'll put it on the back of Jim Dunn's picture. [_Placing picture on table, begins to print._] I'll print it for you, so it'll be easy to read. My address is here, so if you change your mind you can send for me.
LUKE. 'Tain't likely--come on. [_Both go to doorway_--LUKE _extends hand_, REVENUE _takes it_.] Good-by, mister--cheer up ... there's the horse.
REVENUE. Good-by. [_Shaking_ LUKE'S _hand_.
LUKE. Don't be so glum, mister. Lemme hear you laff jist onct before yu go. [REVENUE _begins to laugh weakly_.] Aw, come on, laff out with it hearty. [REVENUE _laughs louder_.] Heartier yit.
[REVENUE _is now shouting his laughter, and is heard laughing until hoof-beats of his horse die down in the distance_.
[LUKE _watches for a moment, then returns to table--takes a drink--picks up picture--turns it around several times before getting it right--then begins to study. In attempting to make out the name he slowly traces in the air with his index finger a capital "J"--then mutters "J-J-J," then describes a letter "I"--mutters "I-I-I," then a letter "M"--muttering "M-M-M, J-I-M--J-I-M--JIM." In the same way describes and mutters D-U-N-N._
LUKE. Jim Dunn! By God! [_He rushes to corner, grabs shot-gun, runs to doorway, raises gun in direction stranger has gone--looks intently--then slowly lets gun fall to his side, and scans the distance with his hand shadowing his eyes--steps inside--slowly puts gun in corner--seats himself at table._] Jim Dunn!--and he begged me to kill 'im!!
MODESTY
BY
PAUL HERVIEU
_Modesty_ is reprinted by special permission of Barrett H. Clark, the translator of the play from the French, and of Samuel French, publisher, New York City. All rights reserved. For permission to perform, address Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City.
PAUL HERVIEU
Paul Hervieu, one of the foremost of contemporary French dramatists, was born in 1857 at Neuilly, near Paris. Although he prepared for the bar, having passed the examination at twenty, and practised his profession for a few years, he soon set to writing short stories and novels which appeared in the early eighties. _The Nippers_, in 1890, established his reputation as a dramatist. The remainder of his life was given to writing for the stage. In 1900 he was elected to the French Academy. He died October 15, 1915.
In addition to _The Nippers_, Hervieu's best-known long plays are _The Passing of the Torch_, _The Labyrinth_, and _Know Thyself_.
_Modesty_ is his well-known one-act play. In subtlety of technic and in delicacy of touch it is one of the finest examples of French one-act plays. Its humor and light, graceful satire are noteworthy.
PERSONS IN THE PLAY
HENRIETTE JACQUES ALBERT
MODESTY
TIME: _The present._
SCENE: _A drawing-room. Entrance_, C; _sofa, chairs, writing-desk._ JACQUES _and_ HENRIETTE _enter_ C, _from dinner_. HENRIETTE _in ball costume_, JACQUES _in evening dress. They come down_ C.
HENRIETTE. What is it? Is it so terribly embarrassing?
JACQUES. You can easily guess.
HENRIETTE. You're so long-winded. You make me weary--come to the point.
JACQUES. I'll risk all at a stroke--My dear Henriette, we are cousins. I am unmarried, you--a widow. Will you--will you be my wife?
HENRIETTE. Oh, my dear Jacques, what _are_ you thinking of? We were such good friends! And now you're going to be angry.
JACQUES. Why?
HENRIETTE. Because I'm not going to give you the sort of answer you'd like.
JACQUES. You don't--you don't think I'd make a good husband?
HENRIETTE. Frankly, no.
JACQUES. I don't please you?
HENRIETTE. As a cousin you are charming; as a husband you would be quite impossible.
JACQUES. What have you against me?
HENRIETTE. Nothing that you're to blame for. It is merely the fault of my character; _that_ forces me to refuse you.
JACQUES. But I can't see why you----?
HENRIETTE. [_With an air of great importance._] A great change is taking place in the hearts of us women. We have resolved henceforward not to be treated as dolls, but as creatures of reason. As for me, I am most unfortunate, for nobody ever did anything but flatter me. I have always been too self-satisfied, too----
JACQUES. You have always been the most charming of women, the most----
HENRIETTE. Stop! It's exactly that sort of exaggeration that's begun to make me so unsure of myself. I want you to understand once for all, Jacques, I have a conscience, and, furthermore, it is beginning to develop. I have taken some important resolutions.
JACQUES. What _do_ you mean?
HENRIETTE. I have resolved to better myself, to raise my moral and intellectual standards, and to do that I must be guided, criticised----
JACQUES. But you already possess every imaginable quality! You are charitable, cultured, refined----
HENRIETTE. [_Annoyed._] Please!
[_Turns away and sits on settee._ JACQUES _addresses her from behind chair_.
JACQUES. You are discreet, witty----
HENRIETTE. The same old compliments! Everybody tells me that. I want to be preached to, contradicted, scolded----
JACQUES. You could never stand _that_.
HENRIETTE. Yes, I could. I should be happy to profit by the criticism. It would inspire me.
JACQUES. I'd like to see the man who has the audacity to criticise you to your face----
HENRIETTE. That is enough! I trust you are aware that you are not the person fit to exercise this influence over me?
JACQUES. How could I? Everything about you pleases me. It can never be otherwise.
HENRIETTE. How interesting! That's the very reason I rejected your proposal. I sha'n't marry until I am certain that I shall not be continually pestered with compliments and flattery and submission. The man who marries me shall make it his business to remind me of my shortcomings, to correct all my mistakes. He must give me the assurance that I am continually bettering myself.
JACQUES. And this--husband--have you found him already?
HENRIETTE. What--? Oh, who knows?
JACQUES. Perhaps it's--Albert?
HENRIETTE. Perhaps it is--what of it?
JACQUES. Really!
HENRIETTE. You want me to speak frankly?
JACQUES. Of course.
HENRIETTE. Then--you wouldn't be annoyed if I said something nice about Albert?
[JACQUES _brings down_ C. _chair which is by desk, facing_ HENRIETTE.
JACQUES. Why, he's your friend!
HENRIETTE. Oh! So you, too, have a good opinion of him?
JACQUES. Certainly.
HENRIETTE. Well, what would you say of him?
JACQUES. [_Trying to be fair._] I'd trust him with money--I've never heard he was a thief.
HENRIETTE. But in other ways?
JACQUES. [_Still conscientious._] I believe him to be somewhat--somewhat----
HENRIETTE. Wilful? Headstrong?
JACQUES. Um--uncultured, let us say.
HENRIETTE. As you like--but for my part, I find that that air of his inspires absolute confidence. He knows how to be severe at times----
JACQUES. You're mistaken about that; that's only simple brute force. Go to the Zoo: the ostrich, the boa constrictor, the rhinoceros, all produce the same effect on you as your Albert----
HENRIETTE. My Albert? My Albert? Oh, I don't appropriate him so quickly as all that. His qualifications as censor are not yet entirely demonstrated.
[JACQUES _rises and approaches_ HENRIETTE, _who maintains an air of cold dignity_.
JACQUES. For heaven's sake, Henriette, stop this nonsense!
HENRIETTE. What nonsense?
JACQUES. Tell me you are only playing with me. That you only wanted to put my love to the test! To make me jealous! To torture me! You have succeeded. Stop it, for heaven's sake----
HENRIETTE. My dear friend, I'm very sorry for you. I wish I could help you, but I cannot. I have given you a perfect description of the husband I want, and I am heart-broken that you bear so remote a resemblance to him.
JACQUES. Only promise you will think over your decision.
HENRIETTE. It is better to stop right now.
JACQUES. Don't send me away like this. Don't----
HENRIETTE. I might give you false hopes. I have only to tell you that I shall never consent to be the wife of a man who cannot be the severest of censors.
JACQUES. [_Kneeling._] I beg you!
HENRIETTE. No, no, no, Jacques! Spare me that. [_A telephone rings in the next room._] There's the 'phone----
JACQUES. Don't go!
[HENRIETTE _rises hastily and goes to door_. JACQUES _tries for a moment to stop her_.
HENRIETTE. I must go. Go away, I tell you. I'll be furious if I find you here when I come back.
JACQUES. Henriette!
HENRIETTE. [_Coming down_ L. _to table_.] Not now! Please, Jacques. [_Exit._]
JACQUES. I can't leave it that way. I am the husband who will make her happy. But how? That is the question. [_Pause._] Ah, Albert!
[_Enter_ ALBERT. _He shakes hands with_ JACQUES.
ALBERT. How are you, rival?
JACQUES. [_Gravely._] My friend, we are no longer rivals.
ALBERT. How's that?
JACQUES. I have just had a talk with Henriette; she refuses to marry either one of us.
ALBERT. Did she mention me?
JACQUES. Casually.
[_Both sit down_, ALBERT _on sofa_, JACQUES _on chair near it_.
ALBERT. What did she say?
JACQUES. Oh, I wouldn't repeat it; it wouldn't be friendly.
ALBERT. I _must_ know.
JACQUES. Very well, then--she said that you had not succeeded--nor had I--to find the way to her heart. Between you and me, we've got a high-minded woman to deal with, a philosopher who detests flattery. It seems you have been in the habit of paying her compliments----
ALBERT. I never pay compliments.
JACQUES. Whatever you did, she didn't like it. Moreover--since you want the whole truth--you seem to her a bit--ridiculous.
ALBERT. Pardon?
JACQUES. The very word: ridiculous. She wants a husband who will act as a sort of conscience pilot. Evidently, you haven't appealed to her in that capacity.
ALBERT. Sometimes I used to be rather sharp with her----
JACQUES. You did it too daintily, perhaps; you lacked severity. I'll wager you smiled, instead of scowled--that would have been fatal!
ALBERT. I don't understand.
JACQUES. Henriette is a singular woman; to get her, you have to tell her that you don't like her--her pride demands it. Tell her all her bad qualities, straight from the shoulder.
ALBERT. [_Feeling himself equal to the task._] Don't worry about that! [_Rises and walks about._] I know women love to be told things straight out.
JACQUES. I'm not the man for that; nor are you, I suppose?
ALBERT. No? Jacques, I'm awfully obliged to you; you've done me a good turn----
JACQUES, Don't mention it----
ALBERT. You want to do me one more favor?
JACQUES. [_Devotedly._] Anything you like!
ALBERT. Promise me you'll never let Henrietta know that you told me this?
JACQUES. I promise; but why?
ALBERT. You know she has to understand that my behavior toward her is in character. Natural, you see.
JACQUES. Oh, you're going at it strenuously.
ALBERT. I am.
JACQUES. Your decision honors you.
ALBERT. Let's not have Henriette find us together. Would you mind disappearing?
JACQUES. With pleasure. I'll look in later and get the news.
[JACQUES _rises_.
ALBERT. Thanks, Jacques.
JACQUES. Good-by, Albert.
[_Exits after shaking hands cordially with_ ALBERT.
HENRIETTE. [_Re-entering as_ ALBERT _assumes a rather severe attitude_.] How are you? [_Pause._] Have you seen Jacques?
ALBERT. [_With a determined air._] No, Henriette. Thank God!
HENRIETTE. Why?
ALBERT. Because it pains me to see men in your presence whom you care nothing for.
HENRIETTE. [_Delighted._] You don't like that?
[_Sitting down on sofa._
ALBERT. No, I don't. And I'd like to tell you----
HENRIETTE. About my relations with Jacques?
ALBERT. Oh, he's not the only one.
HENRIETTE. Heaps of others, I suppose?
ALBERT. [_Sits on chair near sofa._] You suppose correctly; heaps.
HENRIETTE. Really?
ALBERT. You are a coquette.
HENRIETTE. You think so?
ALBERT. I am positive.
HENRIETTE. I suppose I displease you in other ways, too?
ALBERT. In a great many other ways.
HENRIETTE. [_Really delighted._] How confidently you say that!
ALBERT. So much the worse if you don't like it!
HENRIETTE. Quite the contrary, my dear Albert; you can't imagine how you please me when you talk like that. It's perfectly adorable.
ALBERT. It makes very little difference to me whether I please you or not. I speak according to my temperament. Perhaps it is a bit authoritative, but I can't help _that_.
HENRIETTE. You are superb.
ALBERT. Oh, no. I'm just myself.
HENRIETTE. Oh, if you were only the----
ALBERT. I haven't the slightest idea what you were about to say, but I'll guarantee that there's not a more inflexible temper than mine in Paris.
HENRIETTE. I can easily believe it. [_Pause._] Now tell me in what way you think I'm coquettish.
[_Sitting on edge of sofa in an interested attitude._ ALBERT _takes out cigarette, lights and smokes it_.
ALBERT. That's easy; for instance, when you go to the theatre, to a reception, to the races. As soon as you arrive the men flock about in dozens; those who don't know you come to be introduced. You're the talking-stock of society. Now I should be greatly obliged if you would tell me to what you attribute this notoriety?
HENRIETTE. [_Modestly._] Well, I should attribute it to the fact that I am--agreeable, and pleasant----
ALBERT. There are many women no less so.
HENRIETTE. [_Summoning up all her modesty to reply._] You force me to recognize the fact----
ALBERT. And I know many women fully as pleasant as you who don't flaunt their favors in the face of everybody; _they_ preserve some semblance of dignity, a certain air of aloof distinction that it would do you no harm to acquire.
HENRIETTE. [_With a gratitude that is conscious of its bounds._] Thanks, thanks so much. [_Drawing back to a corner of the sofa._] I am deeply obliged to you----
ALBERT. Not at all.
HENRIETTE. In the future I shall try to behave more decorously.
ALBERT. Another thing----
HENRIETTE. [_The first signs of impatience begin to appear._] What? Another thing to criticise?
ALBERT. A thousand! [_Settling himself comfortably._
HENRIETTE. Well, hurry up.
ALBERT. You must rid yourself of your excessive and ridiculous school-girl sentimentality.
HENRIETTE. I wonder just on what you base your statement. Would you oblige me so far as to explain that?
ALBERT. With pleasure. I remember one day in the country you were in tears because a _poor_ little mouse had fallen into the claws of a _wretched_ cat; two minutes later you were sobbing because the _poor_ cat choked in swallowing the _wretched_ little mouse.
HENRIETTE. That was only my kindness to dumb animals. Is it wrong to be kind to dumb animals?
[_She is about to rise when_ ALBERT _stops her with a gesture_.
ALBERT. That would be of no consequence, if it weren't that you were of so contradictory a nature that you engage in the emptiest, most frivolous conversations, the most----
HENRIETTE. [_Slightly disdainful._] Ah, you are going too far! You make me doubt your power of analysis. I am interested only in noble and high things----
ALBERT. And yet as soon as the conversation takes a serious turn, it's appalling to see you; you yawn and look bored to extinction.
HENRIETTE. There you are right--partly.
ALBERT. You see!
HENRIETTE. [_Sharp and even antagonistic._] Yes, I have that unfortunate gift of understanding things before people have finished explaining them. While the others are waiting for the explanation, I can't wait, and I fly on miles ahead----
ALBERT. Hm--that sounds probable; I sha'n't say anything more about that just now. But while I'm on the subject, I have more than once noticed that you are guilty of the worst vice woman ever possessed----
HENRIETTE. And what, if you please?
ALBERT. Vanity.
HENRIETTE. I vain? Oh, you're going too far!
ALBERT. [_Unruffled._] Not a word! Every time I tell you a fault, you twist it round to your own advantage. Whereas you are really worse----
HENRIETTE. [_Rising and gathering her skirts about her with virtuous indignation._] You are rude! I suppose you would find fault with me if I considered myself more polite than the person whom I have the honor to address?
ALBERT. I hope you don't intend that remark as personal.
HENRIETTE. I certainly do.
[_She crosses to the other side of the stage and sits down._ ALBERT _rises and goes up to her_.
ALBERT. Henriette! No! [_Laughing._] I see your trick.
HENRIETTE. What do you mean?
ALBERT. You can't deceive me by pretending to be angry. You wanted to see whether I could withstand your temper. Let us now proceed to the next chapter: your manner of dressing.
HENRIETTE. [_Now really outraged._] My manner of dressing? You dare!
[HENRIETTE _crosses_ L. _Front_, ALBERT _following her_.
ALBERT. Yes, that will be enough for to-day----
HENRIETTE. And then you'll begin again to-morrow!
ALBERT. Yes.
HENRIETTE. And do you think for one minute that I'll listen to you while you insult me to my face? _You_ are the vain one, to think you can come to that! _You_ are the frivolous one, _you_ are the----
ALBERT. [_Slightly perturbed._] Be careful what you say!
HENRIETTE. I'll take care of that. Let me tell you that you are a detestable cynic. You are disgustingly personal; always dwelling on details, on the least----
ALBERT. Which is as much as calling me a fool?
HENRIETTE. Just about. You would be if you didn't read your morning paper regularly; so regularly that I know in advance exactly what you are going to say to me during the day.
ALBERT. Why not call me a parrot?
HENRIETTE. That would flatter you, for you don't speak as well as a parrot; a parrot's memory never gets clouded, a parrot has at least the common politeness to----
ALBERT. [_Between his teeth._] I won't stand for this. I wonder how you could have endured me so long if you thought me such a fool.
HENRIETTE. I believed you harmless.
ALBERT. Are you aware that you have wounded me cruelly?
HENRIETTE. _You_ have wounded _me_. Thank heaven, though, we had this discussion! Now I'll know how to conduct myself toward you in the future.
ALBERT. Thank heaven for the same thing! It was high time! I grieve to think that only last night I had fully made up my mind to ask you to be my wife!
HENRIETTE. My dear friend, if you ever do so, I shall show you the door immediately.
[_Enter_ JACQUES _hurriedly_. HENRIETTE _runs to him as for protection_.
JACQUES. What's all this noise? What's the matter?
HENRIETTE. Oh, Jacques--I'm so glad you've come.
ALBERT. Just in time! You put an end to our pleasant little tête-à-tête.
JACQUES. But what's happened?
HENRIETTE. Well, monsieur here----
ALBERT. No, it was mademoiselle who----
[HENRIETTE _and_ ALBERT _each take an arm of_ JACQUES _and bring him down-stage_ C. _His attention is constantly shifting from one to the other, as they address him in turn._
HENRIETTE. Just think, Jacques----
ALBERT. Jacques, she had the audacity to----
HENRIETTE. Stop! I'm going to tell him first----
JACQUES. You're both too excited to explain anything. Albert, you take a little stroll and cool off.
ALBERT. [_Retreating toward the door._] Charmed.
HENRIETTE. Then I can draw a free breath.
JACQUES. [_To_ ALBERT.] I'll fix up things while you're away.
ALBERT. [_To both._] I won't give in.
HENRIETTE. Neither will I.
JACQUES. Tut, tut!
ALBERT. Good-day, mademoiselle.
HENRIETTE. Good-day.
JACQUES. Good-day, Albert.
[_Exit_ ALBERT.
HENRIETTE. Thank goodness, we're rid of him!
JACQUES. [_Sympathetically._] Tell me all about it.
HENRIETTE. [_Sits down on sofa, inviting_ JACQUES _by a gesture to do the same. He sits beside her._] That man invented the most abominable things about me; criticised me to my face!
JACQUES. He did!
HENRIETTE. It was so ridiculous--makes me sick to think about it.
JACQUES. My dear Henriette, don't think about it. Albert must have behaved like a brute to make you so angry.
HENRIETTE. Yes, don't you think so? _You_ think I'm right?
JACQUES. [_Loyally._] Of course I do.
HENRIETTE. [_At her ease once more._] You encourage me, Jacques.
JACQUES. When I saw you were angry I said to myself at once: "Henriette is right."
HENRIETTE. Really?
JACQUES. I said it because I knew you were by nature peace-loving and considerate----
HENRIETTE. [_With profound conviction._] Well, I think that's the least that could be said of me.
JACQUES. In any event, you are always tactful, you always----
HENRIETTE. _You_ know me, Jacques!
JACQUES. I flatter myself. I felt instinctively you couldn't be wrong. You have always been so admirably poised, so unfailingly considerate.
HENRIETTE. [_With perfect simplicity._] Frankly now, do I ever lose my temper with you?
JACQUES. [_In good faith._] Never. With me you are always patient, gracious, modest----
HENRIETTE. But I remember, a little while ago, I made you suffer----
JACQUES. Yes, I was unhappy. But "if after every storm comes such a calm"----
HENRIETTE. It was all my fault. You understand me; you are truly a friend.
JACQUES. Nothing more?
[_Rising, but standing near her._ HENRIETTE _blushingly looks down at her shoe_.
HENRIETTE. Oh----
JACQUES. Prove that you mean that sincerely.