The Black Cat | Page 7

such a very wicked idiot, after all. Now is it? (_Crosses L, and sits._)
Mrs. Denham.
Oh, she is good enough when she hasn't to do what she dislikes. (_Crosses back of table._)
Denham.
Children are shockingly human, just like you and me. I wish I could cure you of this intense irritability, Constance.
Mrs. Denham.
You have often lost your own temper with her when you have tried to teach her anything--often enough. (_Sits L of table._)
Denham.
Yes, it was sheer stupidity. It is a bad educational method. It involves loss of dignity on both sides. Be as stern as you please, but not furious.
Mrs. Denham.
Furious! (_Rises_) Thank you for the word. (_Crosses R._) I know I am making myself hated by her and despised by you; but I must do my duty as best I can in the teeth of your cruel criticism. I must think of her future.
Denham.
(_rises, and lights pipe_) Oh, damn the future--and the past too! You take life too seriously. You are a born self-tormentor, too full of anxiety to live. You have the worst form of the great malady of the age, conscience in the agnostic form. You suffer from the new hysteria.
Mrs. Denham.
I am not hysterical.
Denham.
Pardon me, we are all hysterical nowadays. We have lost our self-possession. You don't kick on the hearthrug and that kind of thing. A bucket of cold water is not "indicated" in your case.
Mrs. Denham.
It seems to me you are always throwing buckets of cold water over me.
Denham.
For heaven's sake, go and reform the world! That is the modern woman's true vocation--and cure. Denounce our sensuality and selfishness from the platform, as well as from the hearth. They are the defects of our qualities. If you don't like us as we are, mould us.
Mrs. Denham.
(_approaching_) That is what we are trying to do.
Denham.
Yes. You have not mastered your material yet. Your technique is a little crude. (_He resumes his seat in the armchair, and puts down his pipe as she comes._)
Mrs. Denham.
(_kneeling beside him_) Why will you push me away from you, Arthur? You know I only want to be your wife. You are always implying that our marriage is a failure. Why not say it directly?
Denham.
We are creatures of the transition. We have not quite found the new centre of equilibrium. Marriage, except as a symbol, is either a superfluous bond or the consecration of a mistake. You have taught us this great truth, anyhow.
Mrs. Denham.
Why did you get married then?
Denham.
Practically it is still a necessary evil, like war and politics. The brute world, howling, forces us into bonds. It is our business to adjust them so as to gall us as little as possible.
Mrs. Denham.
(_starting up, crosses R_) If the bonds gall you so much, break them. Don't spend your breath in this puling talk. If you are tired of me, go! As far as I am concerned, I set you free. Find some other woman, if you can, who will be more satisfactory.
Denham.
(_rising, and standing with his back to the fire_) But why one other woman? Why not extend my freedom to two?
Mrs. Denham.
Two or a dozen, what is it to me?
Denham.
A dozen, Constance? Do you take me for a Turk? I have often told you every man should be content with three wives. More than this verges upon polygamy. But blessed is he who finds the three in one!
Mrs. Denham.
Indeed. Have you found that in Gyp?
Denham.
No, not directly; though Gyp fills me with thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. Her cynicism is always illuminating.
Mrs. Denham.
I wish I could say the same of yours. But why three, and not a dozen?
Denham.
There are only three possible women in the world, the Divine Mistress--
Mrs. Denham.
And the "Divine Matron"--I have heard this sickening cant before.
Denham.
Cant? Philosophy! But don't forget the third, The Divine Virgin--Womanhood fashioning itself independently after its own ideal. She has driven us, naked and ashamed, into the desert of disillusion.
Mrs. Denham.
Truth, truth--let me have truth, though it kill me! Men are cowards; they dare not face the naked facts of life.
Denham.
Men are poets. Facts are but the crude stuff of life. Imagination is all.
Mrs. Denham.
Oh, if you want romance, had you not better go and look for your Divine Mistress? Perhaps you may find some ugly truths in her too.
Denham.
(_laughing_) One woman is surely enough for the purposes of disillusion. It is too late to begin sowing one's wild oats. There are no dangerous women about. If there were one healthy women in the world--(_Crosses to picture._)
Mrs. Denham.
Well?
Denham.
You might have some cause for jealousy.
Mrs. Denham.
You would quit the wreck?
Denham.
If it were really a wreck--perhaps. But why should it be? (_He takes her in his arms, and kisses her._) For Heaven's sake, cease to wallow in the mud of pessimism! Have faith in yourself and Nature--or at least Human-nature.
Mrs.