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THE
MAGNANIMOUS
By St. John G. Ervine
MAUNSEL AND COMPANY LTD.
Sixpence net.
wssammssEsanA
THE KILTARTAN HISTORY BOOK, By
Lady Gtegoty, With coloured illustrations by
Robert Gregory, Paper Covers, Is. net.
Boards, Is. 66. net.
"A work of considerable importance and of the
highest interest . . . Lady Gregory has . . .
gathered together those stories and remarks which have
any bearing on Irish History, ancient or modern^^and set
them down, as nearly as possible, in the actual words
used by the narrators. Lady Gregory is singularly well-
fitted to do this work-— her plays are abundant witness
to the fact — well able to reproduce the present idiom.
And she has that peculiar quality of sympathy, which
enables her to open the lips of those who, to most people,
arc very little inclined to talk." — Irish Times.
THE KILTARTAN MOLIERE, By Lady
Gregory. Crown 8vo., linen back, 3s. 66. net
Contains The Miser — -The Doctor in Spite of Himself- —
The Rogueries of Scapin^ done into the dialect already su
well known and appreciated in the author's Seven She t
Plays and other works.
"Moliere in Anglo-Irish is the nearest approach to the
real Molicre we know. Lady Gregory has preserved hi?
spirit — that timid bird," — Evenins^ Standard,
THE KILTARTAN WONDER BOOK, By Lady
Gregory, Cap. 4to. Irish Linen, 3s. 66. net,
Illustrations in colour by Margaret Gregory
" . . . Lady Gregory's collections of homely
Irish anecdotes Jind stories are in their way inimitable.
The Kiltartan Woyider Book is a kind of Irish Grimm, or
an instalment of it written in the nobly plain yet fantas-
tic venacular of the old man who told Lady, Gregory
the guileless adorable tales. This is the true folk-lore,
and it is also the most direct and Companionable form of
literature. The book is attractively bound, and there
are some suitably naive coloured pictues."
— Mornins Lead<>
ffi^ I Z2, <
JHE MAGNANIMOUS
LOVER : A PLAY IN ONE
ACT BY ST. JOHN G. ERVINE
//
MAUNSEL (Sf COMPANY, Ltd.
DUBLIN AND LONDON
1912
Copyright, 1912. St. John G. Ervine
All rights reserved
DRAMATIS PERSONiE
William Gather, A Shoemaker.
Jane Gather, His Wife.
Maggie Gather, His Daughter.
Samuel Hinde, A Grocer.
Henry Hinde, His Son.
^:
THE MAGNANIMOUS LOVER
The scene is laid in the kitchen and living-room of William
Cather^s cottage in the North-Irish village of Donaghreagh.
The room is large, and well-lighted by the two windows,
through which the Irish Sea can be seen. The windows are
tightly shut, and -probably have never once been open since
they were inserted in their frames ; but this does not affect
the ventilation of the room to any great extent, for the
cottage door, which is in two sections, is always open either
to its full extent or, as now, half open.
Immediately facing the street door, on the other side of the
house, is a door leading to the best bedroom. The wall in
which this bedroom door is placed terminates in another door
which leads to the scullery and the garden at the back of the
house. The space in this wall betzueen the two doors is
occupied by a large dresser, piled zvith crockery of many hues
and shapes.
A large, round pot is suspended over the open fire which
hums in the wall stretching between the front and the rear
of the house, furthest from the street door. Over the mantel-
shelf, on which are articles of cheap china, a clock and a tea-
caddy, hangs a large oleograph showing King William the
Third in the act of crossing the Boyne. On either side
of this picture are two oblong mottoes printed in floral letters
on a black background, the legends reading : '' Thou God
Seest Me," and, " What is Home Without A Mother?''
Between the two windozvs is a large, unstained deal table
above which hangs another oleograph, revealing the Secret of
England'' s Greatness, and a further motto, " There'' s No
Place like Home."
There are other mottoes scattered over the walls ; some
shield- shaped, some oblong, some circular, of smaller size
than those already mentioned ; all bearing texts from the
2 The Magnanimous Lover
Bible .-— " What Shall It Profit a Man ij He Gain the
Whole World, and Lose His Own Soul.'' '' Jesus Wept."
'■ Blessed Are the Humble and Meek." " God Is Here."
It is the afternoon of a late summer day.
Samuel Hinde puts his head over the lower half-door,
which is barred. There is no one in the kitchen.
Samuel Hinde. Are you in, Mrs. Gather.
Mrs. Gather {speaking from the scullery). Aye, indeed
I am. (She comes into the kitchen.) Och, is that yourself,
Sam ! Sure, come on in.
Samuel Hinde (unbarring the door, and entering). I've
something very important to say to you, Mrs. Gather.
Very important.
Mrs. Gather. Have you, Sam ?
Samuel Hinde. Aye. Where's William ?
Mrs. Gather. Aw, he's down the garden. Will I call him.
Samuel Hinde. Aye, I wish you would.
Mrs. Gather (calling at the scullery door). Hi, William,
come on in a minute.
William Gather (answering from the garden). What do
you want ?
Mrs. Gather. Gome on in a minute. I want you.
William Gather. All right, I'm coming.
Samuel Hinde. Where's Maggie the day ?
Mrs. Gather. Aw, she's over to Killisle ; but sure
she'll be back soon. Were you wanting her ?
Samuel Hinde. Not just yet a wee while. It'll do
later.
Enter William Gather, a lean, kindly man with a leathern
apron bound round his loins.
William Gather. What do you want 1 (Seeing
Samuel Hinde.) How are you, Sam ?
Sa.muel Hinde. Sure, I'm rightly. 1 want to talk to
you a minute. It's about Maggie.
Mrs. Gather. About Maggie ?
Samuel Hinde. Aye. Henry's come back. By the
two o'clock train.
The Magnanimous Lover 3
Mrs. Gather. Come back ! {Her voice hardens.) Has
he come back to make Maggie a respectable woman ?
Samuel Hinde. Aye, he has.
Mrs. Gather. Oh, thank God !
William Gather. Sit down, will you, Sam .''
Samuel Hinde. I will in a minute, but I'd better call
Henry in first. He's just waiting round the corner.
William Gather. Aye, bring him in, will you.
Samuel Hinde goes to the door, and beckons to his son,
Henry Hinde, zvho enters.
Samuel Hinde. Here's Henry, Mrs. Gather.
Mrs. Gather. How are you, Henry ?
Henry Hinde. I'm bravely, thank you. How is
yourself ?
Mrs. Gather. I'm brave and well, thank you. Sit
down, will you.
William Gather. I'm glad to see you again, Henry.
Henry Hinde. Thank you, Mr. Gather.
William Gather. Your father was saying something
about you and Maggie, Henry ! . . . .
Samuel Hinde. Aye, I was saying ! . . . .
William Gather. Maybe, it would be better if Henry
was to speak for himself, Sam.
Samuel Hinde. Aye, maybe it would.
Henry Hinde. Mr. Gather, I did you a great wrong
ten years ago.
William Gather. You did, Henry.
Henry Hinde. And sorry I am for it.
William Gather. You could have been sorry sooner
with advantage.
Henry Hinde. I was headstrong and wayward, Mr.
Gather, I was in the devil's grip ; but a change has come
over me. The old life has dropped away from me, and
I've been washed in the Blood of the Lamb.
Mrs. Gather. Are you saved, Henry ?
Henry Hinde. Yes, thank God, I've been saved, Mrs.
Gather. I was a wilful, hell-deserving sinner when I
lived here. I wanted my own way in everything, and I
4 The Magnanimous Lover
didn't care about nobody else. The devil was in me.
When I went to Liverpool, after the child was born, I led
a wayward life ; but God was watching over me, and He
saved me at last. I've got on, too, beyond my deserts.
The Almighty's been very gracious to me. I've got a
great deal to be thankful for.
William Gather. I'm glad to hear it, Henry.
Maggie ! . . . .
Henry Hinde. It's about Maggie I've come back.
Yesterday morning as I was contemplating God's goodness
to me, I was wondering what I could do to show my
gratitude to Him. I owe Him a great debt, and I want
to pay Him back something. And I heard a voice within
me, saying, Henry Hinde, you once did a woman a wrong.
You left her with a bastard child ! . . . .
Mrs. Gather. Aw, don't say the word, Henry !
Henry Hinde. Isn't it true, Mrs. Gather ? Didn't I
leave Maggie with a child that I was the father of ? I
was headstrong in my sin, and I wouldn't marry her.
My sin was deep, Mrs. Gather, and you can't make little
of it. And when I heard the voice of God telUng me to
go back to the w'oman I had ruined and make her respect-
able, I just took the next boat from Liverpool, and I got
to Belfast this morning, and I came here without a word
of warning to anyone.
Samuel Hinde. Aye, you could have knocked me
down with a feather when I saw him standing in the door.
Sure, I thought it was a ghost.
Henry Hinde. I felt it to be my duty to come back.
Mind, it's not because I couldn't get anyone else. It's
because it's the will of God. Not my will, O Lord, but
Thine be done. I could marry a minister's daughter if
I wanted to.
Samuel Hinde. Aye, a minister's daughter, mind you.
Over in Liverpool. An Englishwoman.
Henry Hinde. But I put all desires away from me, and
came back to do the will of God.
Mrs. Gather {weeping softly). I thank God for this day.
The Magnanimous Lover 5
William Gather {sullenly). We've waited ten years for
the voice of God to speak. Ten years is a long time,
Henry.
Henry Hinde. What is ten years to eternity ?
Samuel Hinde. Aye, indeed, what is it ?
Henry Hinde. If I had not come back at the bidding
of God, He might have damned my soul for ever. How
was I to know that He wasn't testing me as with fire.
Samuel Hinde. Aw, that's true — that's true ! Lord
bless me, it would be a terrible thing to go to hell.
Henry Hinde. Is the child all right ?
William Gather. Aye. He's running about the
street somewhere.
Samuel Hinde. I was thinking myself the other day,
he was a wee bit wild. Running about the street too
much maybe. It's not good for a child to be running
about the street much.
Mrs. Gather. Indeed, Sam Hinde, he's not running
wild about the street. There's no child in Donaghreagh
that's better looked after nor he is, for all he is — for all
his mother's not married.
Henry Hinde. I feel it's my duty to bring that child
up in the fear of God. He came from the devil, and he
must be given to God. Does Maggie go to church
regular ?
Mrs. Gather. Not since her trouble, Henry.
Henry Hinde. She has a soul to be saved, Mrs. Gather,
and by the help of God I mean to save it. Aw, I'm glad
I listened to His voice. I feel I shall be the instrument
for much good in His hands.
William Gather. Do you mean to marry her ?
Henry Hinde. I do. It's the will of God that I should.
Samuel Hinde. You know, he could marry a minister's
daughter if he liked. Over in Liverpool there. And
mind you, they're queer and particular in England.
William Gather. I daresay you're right, Sam, but
that's not the question. The question is, what will
Maggie say. You see Henry talks about his duty to
6 The Magnanimous Lover
God ; but he doesn't say anything about his duty to
Maggie. And after all, it was her that was wronged, not
God. Not that I would make little of our duty to God.
There's no man knows more about that duty nor I do.
But we're men, Sam, you and Henry and me. Maggie's
a woman, and women don't think so much of their duty
to God as men do. It would be a bit awkward for some
of us, if they did. You don't love Maggie, Henry ?
Samuel Hinde. Och, man alive, didn't I tell you about
the minister's daughter over in Liverpool ? It's her he
loves.
William Gather. Do you love her, Henry ?
Henry Hinde. As a fallen sister ! . . . .
William Gather. Do you love her as a man should love
the woman he wants to marry ?
Henry Hinde. I'll do my duty by her. It's a debt
I owe to God. I'll be a good husband to her, and I'll
try to bring her to the paths of peace. Will she be long
before she comes back .?
Mrs. Gather. I don't know. She said she wouldn't be
long. Maybe, she'll be back soon.
William Gather. I wonder if she'll have you, Henry.
Women think more of loving a man nor they do of loving
God. But you never know. I wish she was here.
Henry Hinde. I hope she won't be long, for I must
get back to Belfast to catch the boat for Liverpool the
night. I can't leave the shop more nor a day.
Samuel Hinde. He's doing queer and well in the shop.
Aren't you, Henry ?
Henry Hinde. Aye, the Lord has prospered me. I
have two assistants and a vanman. The minister thinks
a terrible lot of me. He took a fancy to me the minute
he saw me in the chapel.
Mrs. Gather. Ghapel ! You've not turned a Gatholic,
are you ?
Henry Hinde. No, Mrs. Gather, I'm a Protestant,
thank God. They call churches chapels in England
unless they're Episcopalian places of worship. They call
The Magnanimous Lover
/
us Dissenters and Nonconformists, and they think tar
more of Catholics than they do of us.
Mrs. Gather. Heth, it must be the queer funny place.
Henry Hinde. But Catholics have souls to be saved,
the same as Protestants. We should never make little of
them that has not been born so enlightened as ourselves.
Mrs. Cather. Aw, indeed, many's the time I've said
that. Sure, there's good and bad alike in all religions.
Henry Hinde. There's no bad in my religion, Mrs.
Cather. There's no room for bad where God is.
Mrs. Cather. Aw, well, maybe you're right.
Henry Hinde. I am.
Mrs. Cather. But sure, it's not worth fighting about.
Maybe, we're all wrong. You never know.
William Cather. I wish Maggie was here till we tell
her.
Mrs. Gather. I hope she'll have you all right, Henry.
Samuel Hinde. Have him ! Of course, she'll have
him ! She's not daft, is she ?
Henry Hinde. She's not in a position to choose, Mrs.
Cather. A vvoman that's had a bastard ! . . . .
Mrs. Gather. Aw, don't say it, Henry !
William Gather. You were it's father anyway. If
there's no choosing for her, there's no choosing for you.
Henry Hinde. There's no choosing for either of us.
It's the will of God.
Samuel Hinde. But all the same she gets the best of it.
Look at him — look at the way he's dressed. Like any
gentleman ! And him got a shop, and two assistants, and
a vanman, and could marry a minister's daughter if he
liked. I don't think there's much doubt about who's
being favoured by the Almighty.
William Gather. Maybe, Sam, maybe. {He goes to
the door and looks out anxiously.)
Mrs. Gather. Will you be married soon, Henry .''
Henry Hinde. As soon as possible. I'll tell Mr.
Macmillan the night before I go, and I'll come over
again in a month's time, and marry her.
8 The Magnanimous Lover
William Gather. Here's Maggie now.
Henry Hinde. Prri glad to hear it.
Maggie Gather enters, wearing a plaid shawl over her
head. She enters hurriedly, throwing the shawl aside
as she does so. She does not see Henry Hinde at
first.
Maggie Gather (to Samuel Hinde). Is that you, Mr.
Hinde ? (She sees Henry). Henry ! (There is a short,
painful pause, but she recovers herself) I hope you're well.
Henry Hinde. I'm well enough, thank you.
Mrs. Gather. What kept you, Maggie. You're queer
and long getting back.
Maggie Gather. I was kept longer nor I thought. I
hurried home as quick as I could. (To Henry) I
suppose you're over for your holidays.
William Gather. Maggie, dear, Henry's come back.
Maggie Gather. So I see, father.
William Gather. He's come back to make you an offer.
Maggie Gather. A what ?
William Gather. He wants to marry you.
She looks from one to the other like one who does not quite
understand what is being said. Then she turns
away, laughing.
Mrs. Gather. What are you laughing for anyway ?
Sure, it's in earnest he is.
Maggie Gather. Henry, is it true you've come back
to marry me ?
Henry Hinde. Aye, it is. And now you know, I'll
just go and tell the minister to arrange for the wedding
I've got to catch the boat back to Liverpool the night,
and I haven't much time to lose.
Maggie Gather. It's ten years since you went away,
Henry.
Henry Hinde. It is.
Maggie Gather. And now vou've come back to marry
me.
Henry Hinde. Aye. I'll be back in a month's time for
the wedding.
The Magnanimous Lover 9
Maggie Gather (pointing, with sudden jury, to her
mother). Henry Hinde, do you see that old woman ?
Henry Hinde. Aye, I do.
Maggie C.'^ther. Do you remember nothing about
her ? Do you not mind her and me meeting you one
night in the Cregagh Loaning before the child was born ?
Henry Hinde. Aye, I think I do.
Maggie Gather. Do you mind her begging you to
marry me ?
Henry Hinde. Aye.
Maggie Gather {the jury still in her voice). Do you
mind her going down on her knees to you, and begging
you for the love of God to marry me ? Do you mind me
pleading with you, too ?
Henry Hinde. Aye, I do, but what does that matter ?
Maggie Gather. Do you mind what you said to us,
Henry ?
Henry Hinde. No, I forget.
Maggie Gather. You said I was a bad woman, and you
weren't going to marry a whore !
Mrs. Gather, {whimpering) Maggie, for God's sake
don't bring it all up again.
Henry Hinde. Aye, I do mind that.
Maggie Gather. H I was one then, Henry, I'm one
now. I'm just as you left me.
Henry Hinde. I'm not asking what you are. I know
what you are, and I know what I am too. I know what
we all are before God — hell-deserving sinners. I've not
come back for what you are. I've come back to marry
you because it's the will of God.
Maggie Gather. Well, it's not my will, then.
Samuel Hinde. Not your will. Woman, you musn't
set yourself up against God.
Maggie Gather. I'm not setting myself up against
God. I'm setting myself up against Henry.
Mrs. Gather. Maggie, dear, hold your tongue, and
talk sense. Sure, it's all for the best.
William Gather. Leave her alone.
lo The Magnanimous Lover
Maggie Gather. Me and my mother did to you, Henry,
what no woman should ever do to any man — we went
down on our knees to you. Do you hear that ? I
pleaded with you to save me from shame, and you
wouldn't. You ran away, and left me to face it myself.
It wasn't easy to face either. My God, when I think of
it ! I couldn't go to the Sabbath-school nor the meeting.
Everybody knew I was going to have a child, and I
wasn't married. I used to pretend there was nothing the
matter with me. . . . Once the minister preached an
awful sermon about the woman taken in sin. Aw, I felt
that every eye in the place was on me. There was no
pity, no mercy.
Henry Hinde. Think of the mercy of God, Maggie.
Maggie Gather. I couldn't see it. I could only see the
disgrace and the shame.
Mrs. Gather. Aw, but don't think of it, Maggie.
Sure, it's all over, now. Henry'll marry you, and you'll
be all right again.
Maggie Gather. I won't, I tell you, I won't. I'm not
going to marry him.
Samuel Hinde. Maggie Gather, you must be out of
your mind. Do you know he's got a shop, and two
assistants, and a vanman ?
Maggie Gather. I don't care if he's got fifty shops, and
fifty thousand vanmen, I won't marry him.
William Gather {soothingly). Maggie !
Samuel Hinde. Aye, and he could marry a minister's
daughter if he liked.
Henry Hinde. Aw, hold your wheesht, father.
Maggie, there's no one knows better nor I do what I've
done. You've good reason to be angry and bitter, but
I've not come back to make excuses. I'm a guilty sinner
the same as you are, but I've been saved. Thank God
for that ! I've had a call from the Father, and I must
answer the call at my soul's peril.
Maggie Gather. You've not come back because you
love me, then ?
The Magnanimous Lover n
Henry Hinde. The lusts of the flesh ! . . . .
Maggie Gather. Aw, stop, stop, man, stop. I want
none of your rehgion.
Mrs. Gather. Maggie, dear ! . . . .
William Gather. Leave her alone.
Samuel Hinde. I must say I don't think your manners
is very genteel, Maggie Gather.
Maggie Gather. Listen, Henry Hinde. All the time
you were away in Liverpool where nobody knew you, I
was here where everybody knew me. Do you know what
that means ? People staring at me, and turning up their
noses at me ? There was nothing but contempt for me
at first. I was a bad woman, and I wasn't asked nowhere.
Fellows in the street treated me like dirt beneath their
feet. They spoke to me as if I was a bad woman. And
all the time you were in Liverpool, and were thought a
lot of. It wasn't fair. And it wasn't me only. I mind
once I was coming down an entry, and I saw a lot of
children tormenting the child. He was standing in the
middle of them, and they were making him say things
after them. I heard them saying, " What are you,
Willie ? " And then they made him say, " I'm a wee
bastard ! " Aw, if I could have laid hands on you then.
Henry, I would have throttled you.
Mrs. Gather. But sure it's all over now.
Maggie Gather. Aye, they don't treat me with con-
tempt now. I've lived that down. They just pity me
now. Sometimes when I go past their doors, an old
woman'U hear me passing, and ask who it is, and they
always say, " It's only poor Maggie Gather." I could
thole their contempt better nor their pity, but I didn't
run away from either of them. I faced it all, and I've
brought up the child as good as any of them. And now
when I've bore the hardest of it, you come back to marry
me. Maybe, you'll be ordering me about, and bossing
the child. I'm to do what you tell me. I've to love,
honour and obey you. What for, Henry, that's what I'd
like to know.
12 The Magnanimous Lover
Henry Hinde. I've come back at the command of
God.
William Gather. Maggie, dear, maybe you don't
understand it all. You'd better think it over a bit.
Maggie Gather. I understand perfectly, father.
William Gather. Aye, but wait a bit, Maggie.
There's more in it nor you think. The lad's getting big,
you know, and the time'll soon be here when you'll lose
your hold on him. You know, Maggie, every woman
loses her grip on her man or her child some time or other,
and it just depends on wee things whether they ever get
it back again. The child needs a man to look after him.
Maggie Gather. Aren't you good enough for him ?
William Gather. I'm too old. Old men are worse
nor old women for controlling young people. You are
never controlled so well as you are by someone near your
own age. He'll be leaving school in a year or two, and
neither you nor me'll be any younger then. You want
a man to look after him.
Mrs. Gather. Aye, dear, indeed you do.
Maggie Gather. I can look after him myself.
William Gather. No, you can't. Not when he finds
things out. It's the between age, Maggie, when men is
neither boys nor men — the only time when men never
cling to women. It's the time they go quickest to the
devil.
Henry Hinde. I was thinking myself of giving the lad
a good schooling over in Liverpool. I had a feeling as I
was coming over in the boat that maybe if I was to have
the child trained for a minister, he could wipe out some
of the debt I owe to God.
Mrs. Gather. Do you hear that, Maggie ! Henry's
going to make a minister of Willie. Sure, the child'll be
a credit to you yet.
Maggie Gather. He's a credit to me now.
William Gather. Aye, Maggie, he is.
Samuel Hinde. I'm sure it's queer and considerate of
Henry considering what he might do.
The Magnanimous Lover 13
Maggie Gather. If I was to marry you, Henry, would
you treat the child the same as you would one that was
not a — not a . . . .
Henry Hinde. I'll treat him just the same as if he
was a child of God instead of a child of sin.
Maggie Gather {bitterness returnmg to her voice).
It wasn't his fault.
Henry Hinde. The sins of the fathers are visited upon
the children unto the third and fourth generation.
Maggie Gather. Aye, and you'll take damned good
care my child doesn't escape. You'll hurt him, and say
it's the will of God ! . . . .
Samuel Hinde. Maggie Gather, your language is most
unbecoming !
Henry Hinde. She is possessed of a devil, father.
Leave her to me. I'll save her soul by the help of God.
Mrs. Gather. Maggie, dear, say you'll have him.
William Gather. It'll be all right for the child,
Maggie.
Maggie Gather. I'll think about it.
Henry Hinde. I must know now. It's not me you're
answering, it's God Himself. You can't put God off.
William Gather. Maybe, if we were to leave Maggie
to talk it over with you alone, Henry, you could both
come to a decision. Jane and me'll just show your
father a shed I'm putting up in the garden for the leather.
Gome on, Sam.
Samuel Hinde (Jovially). Aye, indeed, William, that's
the queer good notion of yours. I was just going to
make it myself. Aw, you know, when a man and a
woman get together, sure, they like to be alone. It's a
queer thing when you come to think it over ; but there
it is. Och, aye ! human beings is a funny lot, William,
they are that. Well, well, let's go and have a look at
your shed.
Exit Samuel by the scullery.
Mrs. Gather. Maggie, dear, you'll take him, won't
you ? Don't be proud with him. Men can't stand pride,
14 The Magnanimous Lover
Maggie. Just take him, dear, and he'll make you a
respectable woman again.
William Gather. Come on, woman, come on. All
right, Maggie, all right.
They go out together.
Henry Hinde. Maggie, I haven't much time.
Maggie Gather. Did you ever love me, Henry ?
Henry Hinde. I suppose I liked you, Maggie.
Maggie Gather. But you don't love me now ?
Henry Hinde. It's ten years since I saw you last.
Maggie Gather. Do you love this minister's daughter,
your father was talking about ?
Henry Hinde. That's neither here nor there, Maggie.
When God tells to put our desires aside, we've got to bow
our heads and say, Thy Will, O Lord, not ours, be done.
Maggie Gather. Is she a good woman ?
Henry Hinde. Aye, she is.
Maggie Gather. She never had a child.
Henry Hinde. No, she's a good woman.
Maggie Gather. She's worthy of you, maybe.
Henry Hinde. Aye, she is. She's worthy of any
good man.
Maggie Gather. And I suppose I'm not worthy of you.
Henry Hinde. You have fallen short of the glory of
God.
Maggie Gather. We both fell at the same time, Henry.
Henry Hinde. I'm saved and you're not. I'm in a
state of grace, and you're in a state of sin.
Maggie Gather. Then I'm not as good as you are 1
Henry Hinde. No, you're not.
Maggie Gather. If I was saved, too, would I be as
good as you are ?
Henry Hinde. That's for God to say, Maggie, not me.
Maggie Gather. Do you think I'd be as good as you.
Leave God out of it for a minute. If I committed a sin,
you committed one, too.
Henry Hinde. I'm not denying it.
Maggie Gather. Aye, but you think I'm a bigger
The Magnanimous Lover 15
sinner nor you were ; and if I was saved, too, you'd still
think I was worse nor you, wouldn't you ?
Henry Hinde. I would.
Maggie Gather. Why would you ?
Henry Hinde. Because you're a woman. Because it
was through women that sin first came into the world to
damn the souls of men. Because it's women that keeps
sin in the world with their shameful, lustful bodies.
God Himself came down from Heaven to save men from
their sins, and suffered the pangs of hell that they might
be saved, and sin be swept out of the world. But man
turns from the high God to the low woman to his own
damnation, and God may weep in His Heaven for the
souls of men for ever, and no man will heed Him. Aw,
the sin and the shame that women have brought into the
world ! Every soul that writhes in hell was sent there
by a woman.
Maggie Gather. You want to marry me, Henry ?
Henry Hinde. Because its a debt I owe to God. H
I could save your soul I'd be paying Him back.
Maggie Gather. Ana if I don't marry you ?
Henry Hinde. I shall have tried all the same. I can
do no more.
Maggie Gather. Henry, you're worse nor I thought
you. You're not thinking of me, nor the wrong you did.
It's yourself you're thinking of. You're afraid of God,
and you want to use me to buy Him off. You can well
call yourself a God-fearing man, Henry. I'm nothing to
you. The child you're the father of is nothing to you.
You're just frightened out of your wits for fear vou
shoula go to hell for all you're saved. I won't marry you.
I'm, as good as you are for all I'm not saved. I'm better
nor you are, for I'm not afraid of God. (She goes to the
door leading to the scullery) Gome on in, will you.
Samuel, Jane and William enter in the order named.
Mrs. Gather. Have you took him, yet ?
Maggie Gather. No. Father, I've decided not to
marry Henry.
i6 The Magnanimous Lover
William Gather. You're sure, Maggie ?
Maggie Gather. I am, father.
William Gather. Maybe, you know best, Maggie.
Mrs. Gather. William Gather, will you stand there
and let your daughter make a fool of herself ?
Samuel Hinde. I must say I think you're right, Mrs.
Gather.
William Gather. We don't want to know what you
think, Sam. Jane, you needn't say any more.
Mrs. Gather. I will say more. I've been patient all
these years, and said nothing, but I'll be patient no more.
We're a shamed family. Yes, we are. A bastard in the
house ! There never was no shame in my family, no, nor
vours either, William Gather, before Maggie.
William Gather. Well, well, it can't be helped.
Mrs. Gather. And when she has a chance of putting
herself right, and making a respectable woman of herself,
she hangs back, and won't take it. And you stand by, and
let her do it.
Maggie Gather. I am a respectable woman.
Mrs. Gather. You're not, you know you're not.
You're a bad woman, you know you are. Maybe, if the
truth was known, you led this good man into the trouble !
William Gather. Hold your tongue, woman ! My
God, if you speak like that, I'll strike you down.
Mrs. Gather. I'm your wife, William Gather, and I've
been a good wife to you, too. I've submitted to you in
everything since we were married. I've stood by, and
bore cuts from people that was lower-born nor me
because of Maggie. I've stood them without saying
anything because you told me to. But I hoped and
prayed to God that some day Henry'd come back, and make
her a respectable woman again. I was that glad when he
came in with Sam, and said he'd marry her ! — and now, —
aw, William, William, make her marry him. Henry,
you'll take her still, won't you ?
Henry Hinde. Aye, I'll take her still.
The Magnanimous Lover 17
Samuel Hinde. I'm sure it's very magnanimous of you,
Henry, after the way you've been treated.
William Gather. It's for Maggie to say, not for me.
Mrs. Gather. Ask her again, Henry.
Henry Hinde. Maggie Gather, I solemnly ask you
before God your Maker, to marry me.
Maggie Gather. No.
Henry Hinde. I'll give you another chance, Maggie.
Will you marry me ?
Maggie Gather. No.
Samuel Hinde. Well, I suppose there's nothing for it,
but to go home. It's a pity you wasted your money
coming over, Henry.
Mrs. Gather. No, don't go yet, Henry. Give her
time to think it over. When she sees the child she'll
change her mind. I'll go and get him.
William Gather. Stay where you are.
Henry Hinde. Maggie, for the last time, will you
marry me ?
Maggie Gather. Am I as good as you ?
Henry Hinde. You know what I said before. Will
you marry me ?
Maggie Gather. No, no, no.
Henry Hinde. Very well, then, Maggie, I'll just say
good-bye.
Samuel Hinde. That's your last chance, my lady.
You'll get no more. Heth, you're a fine one to be putting
on airs. Anyone would think you were a decent woman
by the way you talk.
William Gather. Samuel Hinde, if you don't want to
be hurried before your Maker before youi time, you'll
get out of this house without another word.
Samuel Hinde. Aw, indeed. I like the conceit of
you. That man could buy and sell you and your
daughter twice over, and not notice it. He's a gentleman,
and could marry the daughter of a minister, but he's good
enough to come and offer to marry the daughter of a
i8 The Magnanimous Lover
cobbler that's disgraced herself ; and he's treated like dirt-
A man that has a shop and two assistants ! . . , .
William Gather. Aye, we heard all that before, Sam.
You needn't wait any longer.
Samuel Hinde. Come on, Henry. Sure, you're only
demeaning yourself here.
Henry Hinde. I came here to do the will of God*
I've done my best. {He shuts his eyes and prays) Lord,
Thou knowest the weakness of Thy servant. If I have
failed to move this sinful woman's heart through lustful
desires after another, forgive me, O Lord, for Thy Name's
Sake. Amen. I'll say good-bye, to you, William. If
we should never meet on this side of eternity, I would bid
you consider this. What Shall It Profit a Man if He
Gain the Whole World and Lose His Own Soul. Good-
bye to you all.
Samuel and Henry Hinde go out together.
Maggie Gather. Was I wrong, father ?
William Gather. God only knows, Maggie.
Mrs. Gather. It's a sin, it's a sin. To throw away the
chance of being respectable.
Maggie Gather. There isn't much difference between
you and me, mother. You've had a child, and so have I.
Mrs. Gather. I'm a married woman.
Maggie Gather. You've only been to the minister,
and I haven't. There's not much difference between us.
Maybe, I'm a better woman nor you. I had a son, and
you only had a girl.
Mrs. Gather (in dreadful fury as though she would
strike her daughter). How dare you ? How dare you
make a mock of me ?
William Gather. Jane, woman, you forget yourself.
You're an old woman. You shouldn't be so bitter,
Maggie.
Mrs. Gather. Why wouldn't you marry him ? Wasn't
he good enough ?
Maggie Gather. He was too good. If you heard what
The Magnanimous Lover 19
he said to me. He said I was a sinful, lustful woman, and
could never be as good as he is. It wasn't me he was
thinking of ; it was himself. I'm not needing to marry,
but if I do, I'll marry to save my own soul, and not
Henry Hinde's.
William Gather. Aw, well, dear, it doesn't matter
about Henry. Maybe, you were right not to have him.
(He fats her afe ctionately on the shoulder)
Maggie Gather. I hope I was, father.
William Gather. I hope so, dear. You never know.
{He goes out through the scullery door to the garden.
Maggie takes up her shawl, and goes into the bed-
room, leaving Mrs. Gather weeping by the fire.
M3
mm
" The Magnanimous Lover ^^ was first played at the
Abbey Theatre, Dublin, October i^jth, igi2, with the
following caste :
Jane Gather ... ... ... Mon Beime
William Gather . . .. Sydney G. Morgan
Samuel Hinde ... ... ... J. A. O'Rourke
Henry Hinde ... .. ... J. M. Kerrigan
Maggie Gather Maire O'Neill
The Play was produced by Lennox Robinson.
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