The Gibson Upright | Page 8

my life. To do that I knew I had to have a loyal staff of
workmen, and for that reason if no other I have given you shorter hours
and more pay than the men get in any other factory of this kind that I
know of. I've done everything that can be done to make the shops
healthy and light and clean. I certainly haven't been unfriendly to you
personally. Any man in the factory was free to come in that door to talk
to me any time he wanted to. I've done my best and we've been called
the model factory. I've done my best but--it isn't enough. It never has
been enough. And I've been told it never will be enough [with a glance
at NORA] until the wage system has been abolished--until capital has
been abolished and the parasite destroyed! I say I took a pride in the
factory for years! Now I am no longer able to. I can't take a pride in a
squabble, and that's all this factory has come to be. And I'll tell you
frankly--you men feel you'd like to get rid of me; well, I want to get rid
of you. And I intend to!
SHOMBERG [fiercely]: You goin' to close this factory down?
GIBSON: No; I'm going to give it to you!
SEVERAL WORKMEN: What!

GIBSON [emphatically]: I'm going to give it to you! I turn it over to
you, here and now. This property is mine, but the use of it is yours.
Don't you understand? You've said yourselves my word is as good as
my bond. Well, the factory is yours. I'm going to get away from it. You
take it and run it.
[He gets his hat and coat.]
SIMPSON: What in thunder does he mean?
SALVATORE: Say, what's the game?
GIBSON: There it is! Take it and run it yourselves, for yourselves. It
belongs to every workman in the factory on equal shares. [Throws keys
on table.] There are the keys of the safe, and the combination's in the
top drawer of that desk. It's all yours as it stands, down to the very
correspondence on that table, without any let, hindrance, or interference
from me.
FRANKEL [hoarsely]: Say! He means it!
SALVATORE: All the money ours?
GIBSON: The money for every piano you make and sell is
yours--every cent of it.
MIFFLIN [rising transfigured]: Gentlemen, a glorious time has come!
This is an example to every employer of labour in our land. I thank that
power which destined all men to be equal both in service and reward
that I should have chanced to be present to see such a splendid band of
forward-looking fellows--of brothers, of comrades--come into their
own! Let us hope that this great moment but marks the beginning of an
epoch when every capitalist and manufacturer shall see the light as Mr.
Gibson has just done.
As spokesman for these--these men, Mr. Gibson, I would congratulate
you for anticipating the inevitable and certain world future! You have
done well for yourself to perceive it. I am sure on that account you

leave here with their respect. And to you I should think it might be
some relief--
GIBSON: Relief? I should think it might! And you can translate that
into your nineteen languages and dialects--including the Scandinavian!
As for you men--you wouldn't work for me--now see if you can work
for yourselves! Good-bye, Miss Gorodna!
[NORA, who has been looking at him tensely, inclines her head slightly.
He opens the door that leads to the street and goes out decisively.
There are exclamations from everyone, loud but awed. "Say, look here,
look here, look here!"
"Give it to us!" "Equal shares! Did you hear what he said?" "Gosh! Is
this the end of the world?" "My wife won't believe it!"]
MIFFLIN: Gentlemen, this factory comes into the possession of every
workman in it on equal terms; each has a like share in the profits. At
last the workman owns his tools.
FRANKEL [suddenly, as if light had just come]: Gibson's crazy!
MIFFLIN: No, no! He saw the writing on the wall!
NORA [as if entranced, her eyes to heaven]: Isn't it
wonderful--wonderful!
MIFFLIN [beaming]: But we mustn't forget that it entails
responsibilities.
NORA: We mustn't forget that.
[The telephone bell rings. They all turn their heads in silence and look
at it, MIFFLIN watching them, benevolently chuckling. The bell rings
again.]
CARTER [blankly]: The telephone is ringin'.
MIFFLIN: Well, answer it, answer it!

SIMPSON: Who?
MIFFLIN: Why, you--any of you. It's yours--it's your telephone.
SIMPSON: You answer it, Carter.
[CARTER goes to the telephone and picks it up in a somewhat gingerly
way.]
CARTER: Hello!... Yes.... Yes, it's The Gibson Upright.... No, he ain't
here.... What? Wait a minute. [Puts his hand over