Part 1

THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78266 *** APPLETON SHORT PLAYS No. 4 IT’S TIME SOMETHING HAPPENED IT’S TIME SOMETHING HAPPENED BY ARTHUR DOYLE [Illustration] D. APPLETON AND COMPANY NEW YORK ¤ LONDON ¤ MCMXXV COPYRIGHT, 1925, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY _All Rights Reserved_ This play is fully protected by the copyright law, all requirements of which have been complied with. No performance, either professional or amateur, may be given without the permission of the publisher, D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 35 West 32nd Street, New York, or D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 25 Bedford Street, Covent Garden, London, England. Copyright, 1924, by Arthur Doyle PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA IT’S TIME SOMETHING HAPPENED CAST THE PROLOGUE THE SHE-ANGLE THE HE-ANGLE THE PLAYWRIGHT THE POET THE NOVELIST THE ACTRESS THE HUSBAND, _another He-Angle_ (_The_ PROLOGUE _steps before the curtain. He is dressed in tights, etc., and carries a trumpet._) PROLOGUE Do you know who I am?

Yes, I’m the Prologue. I’m not really the Prologue: I am really the Exposition. But they put tights on me and gave me this (_indicating the trumpet_) and called me the Prologue. I can’t play a trumpet, but it goes well with my tights and looks good, and besides it’s something to lean on while I’m standing over there. Yes, I stand there during the whole play. It’s that kind of play. There, I’ve told you! Yes, you’re going to see a play of a sort.

Maybe it won’t be much of a play. That will depend on how much of a help you are. I suppose I’ve got to explain. That is part of my duties as the Exposition. You see last night a young man (he must have been a very young man) dreamed a dream. I don’t mean that you can dream anything but a dream, but it is better to say “dreamed a dream” than to say simply, “he dreamed.” Now, this young man dreamed about triangles--not the kind he ought to have dreamed about as a student of higher mathematics and a very young man--but the other kind. He must have been pretty much of a playgoer, this young man. As I say, he dreamed of triangles.

He dreamed of a man and a wife and another man. That’s what is known as a triangle, you know. He didn’t give much time to the husband, but he did get the wife and the other man into a terrible mess. He made them fall in love, and he was just about to solve the problem of how he was going to get rid of the husband--that’s always the problem of triangles, you know--when he woke up. Do you see the difficulty? Here are two angles, desperately in love, and they haven’t yet found out how they can get rid of the husband angle. And, moreover--but no, I’ve been enough Exposition for the present. If anything comes up that you don’t understand, I’ll try to make it clear to you.

I’ll be right over here if you want me. If you’re all ready, we’ll begin. Just remember that you’re to help the angles if you can, please! (_He walks to one side and folds his arms. The curtains part, revealing a blank wall of curtains in the rear. Before curtains are three high stools._ _On left stool the_ SHE-ANGLE _sits and on right stool the_ HE-ANGLE, _leaving the center stool vacant_.) HE-ANGLE Well? SHE-ANGLE (_shortly_) I didn’t say anything. HE-ANGLE Oh! (_Pause._) SHE-ANGLE What? HE-ANGLE I didn’t say anything.

SHE-ANGLE Oh! (_Pause._) HE-ANGLE This isn’t getting us anywhere. SHE-ANGLE That’s right. Blame it on me! HE-ANGLE Who’s blaming it on you? SHE-ANGLE You are! HE-ANGLE I’m not! SHE-ANGLE You are! HE-ANGLE I’m not!

SHE-ANGLE I say you are. HE-ANGLE I’m--Oh, well, have it your own way. But, after all, it isn’t getting us anywhere, is it? SHE-ANGLE Who said it was? HE-ANGLE That’s right. Blame it on me! SHE-ANGLE Who’s blaming it on you? HE-ANGLE You are.

SHE-ANGLE I’m not! HE-ANGLE You-- Oh, there we go again. (_Gets off chair and paces across stage._) After all, it _isn’t_ getting us anywhere. SHE-ANGLE Well, I’ve done all I could. HE-ANGLE What have you done? SHE-ANGLE I’ve done everything I could. HE-ANGLE So I heard you say. But what have you done? SHE-ANGLE I’ve racked my brains for days, if you want to know.

HE-ANGLE Oh, surely, it didn’t take all that. SHE-ANGLE All what? HE-ANGLE Days. SHE-ANGLE (_beginning to sob_) There! You’re just like all men. Oh! And I thought you different. HE-ANGLE Oh, come now!

I say, there isn’t any reason for that. SHE-ANGLE Oh, no! You’d say not. You would. HE-ANGLE Well, what did I say? SHE-ANGLE You said--(_Sobs._)--You said I didn’t have any brains. HE-ANGLE I didn’t! SHE-ANGLE You did.

HE-ANGLE I didn’t. SHE-ANGLE (_sobbing_) You _did_! HE-ANGLE Oh, well. (_He goes over to her and takes her hand._) I’m sorry. Really, I am, if I said it, but I don’t think I did. SHE-ANGLE (_brightening_) Well, you did. HE-ANGLE I’m sorry. (_Puts arm about her._) I am like all men, I guess. SHE-ANGLE What do you mean by that? HE-ANGLE Oh, nothing.

But what are you going to do about it? SHE-ANGLE I’ve been trying to tell you all along, if you’d only let me. HE-ANGLE What have you been trying to tell me? SHE-ANGLE What I’m going to do about it. HE-ANGLE Oh! SHE-ANGLE What? HE-ANGLE Nothing. I just said “Oh”!

SHE-ANGLE Oh! (_Pause._) HE-ANGLE Well? SHE-ANGLE I didn’t say anything. HE-ANGLE Oh! (_Pause._) SHE-ANGLE You see, I will not just run away from my husband. I say I won’t! HE-ANGLE No! Certainly not. But what are you going to do? You know I love you.

Where do I come in? SHE-ANGLE Well, I’ve sent for a playwright. HE-ANGLE Oh! SHE-ANGLE Yes. HE-ANGLE But what good is a playwright? SHE-ANGLE Why, don’t you see? To get us out of this mess. HE-ANGLE But what _good_ is he?

SHE-ANGLE Why, don’t you see? HE-ANGLE No. SHE-ANGLE Why, playwrights have to do with angles, and triangles, and all that sort of thing. He should be able to help us. HE-ANGLE Oh! (_Pause._) SHE-ANGLE Well? HE-ANGLE I didn’t say anything. SHE-ANGLE Oh! (_Pause._) SHE-ANGLE But I think you might. HE-ANGLE Might what?

SHE-ANGLE Say something. What do you think of it--my plan? HE-ANGLE Oh! it’s all right, I guess. SHE-ANGLE You guess! (_Looks as if on the verge of tears._) HE-ANGLE Why, of course it is. It’s fine; that’s what it is. It’s great! But suppose he won’t be able to help us? SHE-ANGLE He--(_Looks off left._)--Here he comes!

He will! (_Enter_ PLAYWRIGHT _from left_. _Both_ HE-ANGLE _and_ SHE-ANGLE _look at him curiously_. HE-ANGLE _goes back to his stool_.) PLAYWRIGHT You sent for me? SHE-ANGLE So you’re really a playwright! Oh! PLAYWRIGHT Well, rather. You sent for me? SHE-ANGLE Yes. I sent for you.

PLAYWRIGHT Well? HE-ANGLE } SHE-ANGLE } (_together_) I didn’t say anything. PLAYWRIGHT But what did you send for me for? SHE-ANGLE I told you that--in my letter. You know--my husband. We’ve got to get free from him. PLAYWRIGHT Oh, yes! Husband--triangle.

H’m. SHE-ANGLE I thought that you, being a playwright-- PLAYWRIGHT Yes, yes, of course. SHE-ANGLE You see, it’s really a very serious matter. PLAYWRIGHT H’m! Oh, not so serious! HE-ANGLE But what are we going to do about it? PLAYWRIGHT Not so fast, young man! Don’t be impatient.

HE-ANGLE But we’re tired just being--angles. PLAYWRIGHT Of course. H’m! Have you told him? SHE-ANGLE Whom? PLAYWRIGHT Why, your husband. SHE-ANGLE No. PLAYWRIGHT No, of course not.

But it is all very plain. HE-ANGLE What is all very plain? PLAYWRIGHT It’s all very simple. All you have to do is to run away. HE-ANGLE } SHE-ANGLE } Run away! PLAYWRIGHT Why, of course. Together! SHE-ANGLE But--but the scandal.

PLAYWRIGHT Ah, of course--the scandal. Wonderful! Think of it. The whole town talking. Ah, Pinero! Everyone that’s worth while. Of course! SHE-ANGLE But I don’t want them to talk!

PLAYWRIGHT Don’t be foolish! Think of the dialogue! HE-ANGLE The what? PLAYWRIGHT The dialogue. Think of what people will say! Sparkling, eh, what! Scintillating! Think of it!

Ah, Wilde! SHE-ANGLE But I don’t want them to talk! PLAYWRIGHT Well, of all the--! But they will talk! HE-ANGLE No! PLAYWRIGHT Yes! Of course they will. Do you think they’re fools?

If they didn’t talk, why--why there wouldn’t be any sense to triangles. You angles must take the consequences. If you must angle, you must be talked about. SHE-ANGLE No! I refuse! HE-ANGLE Certainly not! (_Pause._) PLAYWRIGHT Well, then, if you insist on shutting out dialogue. There--have you thought of--How is your husband? SHE-ANGLE Why, well, thank you!

Why--What do you mean? PLAYWRIGHT I mean--doesn’t he have anything? SHE-ANGLE Doesn’t he have anything? PLAYWRIGHT Why, yes--apoplexy or locomotor ataxia, or diabetes, or something? SHE-ANGLE Why--why, no! PLAYWRIGHT Pshaw, that’s too bad. SHE-ANGLE But I don’t know what you mean! PLAYWRIGHT Why, don’t you see?

If he had something, he’d be bound to die at the right moment--which is now. Sort of an unwritten law among husbands, you know. They always do. They’re bound to in such cases as this--if everything else fails. SHE-ANGLE Well, he won’t. HE-ANGLE No, he’s healthy as a fool! Besides, he wouldn’t have the decency. SHE-ANGLE He would!

He would die, if he could. I know he would! HE-ANGLE He wouldn’t! He’s too mean! SHE-ANGLE He isn’t! Besides, I don’t want him to die. HE-ANGLE Who said you did? SHE-ANGLE You did!

HE-ANGLE I didn’t! SHE-ANGLE You _did_! You _did_! You _did_! HE-ANGLE Oh, well! PLAYWRIGHT Come now, this isn’t getting us anywhere. We’re not through yet. There’s still another chance.

HE-ANGLE } SHE-ANGLE } (_together_) What is it? PLAYWRIGHT Hire a yacht! SHE-ANGLE A yacht? PLAYWRIGHT Of course. Hire a yacht and get shipwrecked. SHE-ANGLE Oh! HE-ANGLE Get shipwrecked? PLAYWRIGHT Of course.

Hire a yacht and go to the South Sea Islands--Fiji will do. Get shipwrecked--it’s very easy to manage. Then, out there, under the open sky and the stars--nature will tell. SHE-ANGLE Nature will tell? PLAYWRIGHT Why, yes. You’ll fight--you (_to_ HE-ANGLE) and he. Let the best man win! You’ll win--unless you lose.

In either case--(_To_ SHE-ANGLE.) In either case you’ll be satisfied. If your husband wins, you’ll find that all along you wanted your husband to win. (_Indicating_ HE-ANGLE.) If he wins, you’ll be happy to know that the man destiny picked for you won. It’s a fine place, the South Seas. You’re always satisfied. SHE-ANGLE But I don’t want to go to the South Seas! HE-ANGLE Neither do I. It’s too lonely. PLAYWRIGHT Ah, no!

It isn’t lonely any more. The South Seas have become very popular with the people who want to read their Ten Favorite Books and who never would read them anywhere else. You’d not be lonely--if you enjoy Shakespeare and Walt Whitman. SHE-ANGLE I hate Shakespeare, and I hate Walt Whitman! I won’t go! A fortune teller once told me I’d die by drowning, and I won’t go aboard a ship! PLAYWRIGHT Not even to Europe? SHE-ANGLE Not even to Europe.

PLAYWRIGHT How vulgar! (_He walks toward off stage._) Good day! SHE-ANGLE What, are you going? PLAYWRIGHT Yes, I’m going. What do you expect me to do? Stay here and be insulted? HE-ANGLE Be insulted? PLAYWRIGHT Yes, be insulted. When you sent for me, I thought you would follow my advice.

I have more to give, but I refuse to have my ideas laughed at. They’ve always been successful before--they still are in a thousand cases. But you think you’re too good, and your husband is too damn healthy, and yourself too superstitious. Good day. (_He lifts his hat and passes out right. Both_ HE-ANGLE _and_ SHE-ANGLE _look disconsolately after him_.) SHE-ANGLE Well? HE-ANGLE I didn’t say anything. SHE-ANGLE Oh! (_Pause._) HE-ANGLE I told you so! SHE-ANGLE What did you tell me?

HE-ANGLE That a fool playwright wouldn’t be any help. SHE-ANGLE You didn’t! HE-ANGLE I did! Now if you’d followed my plan in the first place! SHE-ANGLE You didn’t have any plan. HE-ANGLE I did. You know I did. My friend, the Poet.

If you’d only sent for him--He’d be able to help us. A poet’s got imagination. That’s what we need--imagination. He’s got it--my friend, the Poet. SHE-ANGLE Why didn’t _you_ send for him? HE-ANGLE I did, even if you wouldn’t. I asked him to come, and he said he’d be right over. SHE-ANGLE Well, why didn’t he come?

HE-ANGLE He’d been here long ago if it hadn’t been for that fool of a playwright. I never liked playwrights anyway. Poets for me every time. They’re so practical. SHE-ANGLE Well, why doesn’t he come? HE-ANGLE He probably is here; no doubt he’s been here all the time that fool Playwright was here, only I didn’t want to have them meet. They don’t hitch very well, Poets and Playwrights. At least any more. (_He looks toward_ PROLOGUE.) Is the Poet here? (_The_ PROLOGUE _looks off stage right_.) PROLOGUE Yes, the Poet is here.

HE-ANGLE Send him in. PROLOGUE I beg your pardon! I’m a Prologue--not a butler. However, I’ll call him if you insist. But please address me more respectfully in the future. HE-ANGLE I beg your pardon, Prologue. Please call the Poet. PROLOGUE (_beckoning off stage right_) Poet. (_Enter_ POET _from right.

He is fat, bald, and of a rosy complexion._) POET Hullo! HE-ANGLE (_getting off stool_) Hullo! (_Turns to_ SHE-ANGLE.) May I introduce Poet? SHE-ANGLE (_bowing stiffly_) How do you do! (_She is not a bit impressed._) POET You sent for me? HE-ANGLE Yes. As I explained in my letter, we want advice on how to solve our triangle. POET But I’m a Poet. I always was rotten at mathematics. HE-ANGLE But this is not a mathematical triangle. (_He gets back on stool._) You see (_indicating_ SHE-ANGLE), we’re angles.

POET Oh, I see! (_To_ SHE-ANGLE.) He’s complimentary, eh, what? Haw! (SHE-ANGLE _sniffs, very much upstage, at the pun_.) HE-ANGLE We need your advice. Imagination! It’s going to take imagination to get us out of this mess. That’s why I sent for you. POET Thank you. Well, then, what have you done? HE-ANGLE Nothing.

SHE-ANGLE A Playwright tried to help us, but-- POET But couldn’t. Of course! Tawdry stuff, I suppose. I know just about what he would suggest. It goes well enough on the stage, but it isn’t art. SHE-ANGLE Ah! Art! POET Of course.

You want to be artistic, don’t you? SHE-ANGLE (_beginning to melt_) Yes. Oh, yes! POET H’m. (_Pause._) HE-ANGLE Well? POET I didn’t say anything. SHE-ANGLE Oh! (_Pause._) POET There’s really not much to be done. It’s all so simple, really, and all so artistic. Poetry!

I tell you there’s poetry there. HE-ANGLE } SHE-ANGLE } (_together_) Where? POET There. HE-ANGLE } SHE-ANGLE } (_together_) Oh! POET Yes, there’s poetry there, and art. It’s so artistic to suffer. SHE-ANGLE To suffer? POET Yes, so artistic.

A sacrifice on the altar of living love. Oh, divine sacrifice! Oh, the beauty and the art of suffering! HE-ANGLE Say, I don’t get all that you’re raving about, but if you have the idea that we aren’t suffering, you’re way off. We are. And it may be artistic, but it’s damn uncomfortable. POET Uncomfortable. Yes.

So artistic. The altar of living love. Purple love, deep, mystic, fragrant, yes. So uncomfortable, but so beautiful. SHE-ANGLE But I thought you would be able to help us. POET Ah, I am able. So able! Already I have envisioned your life.

So heroic! So hopeless! HE-ANGLE Hopeless? POET Yes. Two lives sacrificed on the altar of living, hopeless love. Deathless love, fragrant and so purple! HE-ANGLE Come out of it and explain all this nonsense to us! Can you help us escape from this awful three-cornered prison?

POET Ah, yes, three-cornered. The three-cornered prison of love! Fetters forged in the vermillion fire of love. No blue flame to love, but deep vermillion girandoles of passion! So vermillion! SHE-ANGLE (_she has stood it as long as she can_) He’s mad! POET (_starting up_) What? HE-ANGLE I sent for you, thinking that with your imagination you would be able to help us.

But it seems that you’ve got too much imagination. Have you any suggestion or haven’t you? POET Why, of course I have. Haven’t I been telling you all along? SHE-ANGLE Well, how am I to get rid of my husband? POET Ah, madam. You’ll not do that. Ah, no!

So comfortable but so inartistic. SHE-ANGLE Not get rid of him! But what shall I do? POET Live. Madam, live--a living sacrifice on the altar of a living love! SHE-ANGLE You mean--? You don’t mean--? POET Yes.

HE-ANGLE But where do I come in? POET Ah, my boy. That is it. You, too, can suffer so beautifully. Eternally! Love is eternity. Love her, my boy, and suffer from afar. HE-ANGLE Not marry her?

POET No, no! Not marry her! That would not be art. You must deny your love, lock it in your heart and go. HE-ANGLE Go where? POET That doesn’t matter. Just go. In your heart a love denied.

So denied! HE-ANGLE But I’m not going. I’m going---- POET But I thought you said you weren’t. HE-ANGLE I’m going to marry her! POET No! Good Lord, no! Anything but that. Seal up your hearts with the seals of eternity and deny your love.

There only is Poetry! There only is Art! Seal up your hearts, I say. But don’t marry. SHE-ANGLE I will marry him! POET You, too! Think of it. Why, you are spoiling your great opportunity of sacrificing yourself on the altar of deathless love.

You may be _sung_, if you seal your hearts; but marry, and you’ll go and have children. Ugh! SHE-ANGLE I love children. POET Ugh! Deny your purple love, and suffer the eternal pangs of deathless, hopeless yearning. I’ll sing you. Why, I’ve already thought of two new rhymes for love and a beautiful simile. Think of it.

Deny your love and have your story told to the world in similes! SHE-ANGLE I hate similes! POET So heroic! So beautiful! So deathless to deny a hopeless love. Beside it the human sacrifices of golden Chichen-Itza were pale and anemic. I’m holding out to you the straw of immortality. SHE-ANGLE I don’t want to be immortal.

I want children. POET Oh, well. Then have your children. But don’t, in the name of art and beauty, don’t have legitimate children. Legitimate children are so prosy. A poet can’t sing of them. SHE-ANGLE (_feeling her cheeks_) Oh! Oh!

Why, the idea! HE-ANGLE Come, now, that’s going a bit too far! I don’t think you can help us. In fact, I think everything you’ve said about the most ridiculous rubbish I ever heard. POET Rubbish! Fool! Fools! (_He stalks toward left._) I’m through with you. Love your damn heads off and marry and have children, dozens of them.

I hope they’re all cross-eyed! Fools! (_He goes off left angrily_, HE-ANGLE _and_ SHE-ANGLE _sit on their stools, a picture of resentment and outraged respectability_.) SHE-ANGLE I told you so. HE-ANGLE What did you tell me? SHE-ANGLE I knew he couldn’t help us. A poet! He’s no poet. Fat and bald. Ugh!

I think he ought to be arrested as an impostor. Why, the idea of his talking about illegit--about--ah--children! HE-ANGLE And I thought he was a friend of mine! I always liked poetry, too. SHE-ANGLE Deny our love! Live and suffer! I don’t believe he knows what love is. Or life either.

And then those--children! (_She feels her cheeks again. Pause while both sit thoughtfully._) HE-ANGLE Well? SHE-ANGLE I didn’t say anything. HE-ANGLE Oh! (_Pause._) SHE-ANGLE But what are we to _do_? HE-ANGLE I don’t know. This is an awful mess. Maybe Poet is right and we’ll have to go on as we are--just angles. SHE-ANGLE He isn’t right! and I won’t go on just being an angle.

HE-ANGLE But what are we going to do? SHE-ANGLE I’m sure I don’t know--yet. But we’ll find a way. (_Pause while they both seem to concentrate._) SHE-ANGLE I have it! HE-ANGLE What? SHE-ANGLE Why didn’t we think of it before? HE-ANGLE What? SHE-ANGLE Why, Prologue! Why don’t we ask Prologue?

HE-ANGLE That’s right. Why didn’t we? SHE-ANGLE Oh, Prologue! (PROLOGUE, _who has been leaning half asleep on his trumpet, turns to the_ ANGLES.) PROLOGUE Yes? SHE-ANGLE We want your help. We need your advice. PROLOGUE Oh, no! SHE-ANGLE What do you mean? PROLOGUE I mean you’re not going to drag me into this mess.

I’m a Prologue and don’t know anything about Angles--any more than I do about playing this trumpet We Prologues have a lot to contend with these days. They make us do all sorts of things--even to shifting scenery at times. But so far they have kept us out of scandals, and I’m not going to start in, as old as I am, getting into such scrapes. SHE-ANGLE But, Prologue, we don’t want you to get into any scrapes. We only want you to give us advice on how to solve the triangle. PROLOGUE Oh, yes, that’s all you want me to do. But say, haven’t I seen plays before? Haven’t I seen innocent bystanders dragged into such messes as this, even into the divorce courts, just because of a little good advice given at the wrong time.

SHE-ANGLE But this is the right time. PROLOGUE How can I be sure of that? Besides, as I said before, I’m the Prologue and not an information bureau or ways and means committee. (_He turns back to the side of the proscenium where he has been standing._) HE-ANGLE Don’t give us any advice, Prologue. But haven’t you any suggestions? PROLOGUE No!--Why, yes, I’ll give you a suggestion. Why don’t you try the audience? HE-ANGLE The--the audience? PROLOGUE Yes.

Why don’t you try them? Maybe there is a novelist among them. SHE-ANGLE Oh, fine! Maybe there is! Ask them, Prologue, do! I know an Author can help us! PROLOGUE (_turning to audience_) Is there an Author in the audience? (_Pause._) A Novelist? AUTHOR (_rising somewhere in the audience_) Yes.

I’m a Novelist. (_He comes forward._) I’ve been thinking it was about time some one with a little brains took a hand in these proceedings. I’ll be glad to help you. PROLOGUE Come right up, Author. (AUTHOR _goes up on the stage_.) PROLOGUE (_to_ ANGLES) Here is your Author. (_Turns back to his original post._) AUTHOR You know, I feel very sorry for you people, not because of the mess you’re in but because of the way you tried to get out of it. HE-ANGLE What do you mean? AUTHOR Why, calling on a playwright and a poet. What good did you ever think they could possibly do you? I’m suspicious of them, particularly playwrights. I once had a novel, one of my best, adapted for the stage. (_He throws up his hands._) You should have seen it when that playwright got through with it!

I wouldn’t have recognized it myself. Only the title remained the same. SHE-ANGLE But they’re usually very good in triangles. AUTHOR (_sniffing_) Oh, yes. They know how to invent them, but they fail utterly in solving them satisfactorily. Why, not so long ago a very prominent playwright put two triangles together and tried to pass it off as a circle, but they remained triangles. It might be good dialogue, but it’s poor mathematics. HE-ANGLE Do you think you can help us?