The Pot Boiler | Page 6

like that!
Gladys. Not at all, Jessie!
Jessie. Do you seriously intend to send him away?
Gladys. Send him, Jessie? How do you mean? You can't send these modern young men anywheres. They come and go to suit themselves. They think they love a woman, and they plead for her love; but then they begin to change their minds--they get bored with her, and think they're bored with all life. So they go off and try something new and romantic--something less tedious than a woman's affections. The reality of life!
Jessie. I know Jack loves you!
Gladys. Indeed, Jessie? Too bad that Jack doesn't know it-- (_sound of gramophone in Real-play Left 1, playing a popular song. The Play-play fades rapidly_.)
Will. Oh, God!
Peggy. Botheration!
Will. The fiends! (leaps up and begins to pace the floor.) Isn't that enough to drive a man to distraction? To be trying to work, trying to create something--
Peggy. Wait, dear. (Goes and closes door.) Now forget about it.
Will. Yes, it's easy to say forget! But pretty soon the devils in the rear will begin with their coon-songs--
Peggy. Well then, we'll close the window, too.
Will. Yes, on a hot night!
Peggy. What do you think of my love-interest?
Will. I think it's rotten.
Peggy. Will!
Will. Absolutely rotten! The idea of having her turn Jack down--at the very beginning of the play!
Peggy. But that's exactly what happened! Didn't Gladys turn you down? And besides, she can take him up again, if you like.
Will. How's she going to see him when he goes out on the street?
Peggy. Can't she run into him somewhere by accident?
Will. By accident--in a city of six million people!
Peggy. Well then, why not have her go where he goes? Let Bob follow Jack, or let them hire a detective.
Will. Melodrama! Ten-twenty-thirty! I don't like Gladys as a character any more than I did as a person. She's shallow and cheap--a regular worldling! I won't have any such creature in my play!
Peggy. There's no use talking that way, Will, you simply can't write a money-making play without love-interest. And also you've got to have comedy characters--real characters--
Will (eagerly). I'll have one character, at least! In the next scene, when the father comes in! It'll be a jolly lark, Peggy--I'm going to use Dad!
Peggy. Your own father!
Will. Yes, why not?
Peggy. He might hear of it, Will!
Will. He despises the theatre. Half his anger at me was because I married an actress. And it seems to me, if we can't get any money out of him, we might at least get a character-study.
Peggy. All right, Dad let it be!
Will. I'll show you how it is. Here! (_Pushes the manuscripts towards her; the Play-play begins to appear._) Jack has gone upstairs to change his clothes, and here comes Dad. He's an old man--rich, irascible, given to scolding. I remember how he used to snort when anything didn't please him.
Dad. Huh! huh-huh!
Will. He's heard the story about Jack. Here's the Mss. Read. (_She takes the manuscript and begins to read. Full light on Play-play. Will exit secretly._)
Dad (to Bob). What do you think of this?
Bob. What?
Dad. My precious son in trouble again! Never any end to it! Recklessness--dissipation--insolence! I've reached the end of my patience. Absolutely the end!
Bob. What's happened?
Dad (waves letter in his hand). Here's a letter from the dean. He's got himself suspended from college.
Jessie (horrified). Oh, Dad!
Bob. What's he done?
Dad. Turning loose a live goat in a college lecture hall!
Bob. You can't mean it!
Dad. Here's the letter! They were having a fraternity initiation, it seems, and Jack was bringing the goat, his horns painted with phosphorus, a bunch of fire-crackers tied to his tail. Fire-crackers to the tail of a goat!
Jessie. But Dad! How do you know that Jack--
Dad. He admitted everything in his letter to the dean! He was passing a hall where they were giving an evening lecture. He had a grudge against the professor. He turned out the lights, and turned loose the goat! What do you think of that? (A silence.) What do you think of it?
Jessie. Why Dad, I think it's funny.
Dad. Funny! You propose to take his side, do you? And now he's out of college and has nothing to do but loaf around the house! I tell you I've reached the limit of my patience. It's just as Bob says--he's a parasite. Nothing to do but squander my money--fit for nothing else, having no other idea! I tell you I won't support the loafer!
Jessie. Dad!
Bob. You've brought the boy up wrong.
Dad. So you propose to blame me!
Jack (appears in doorway Left clad in ragged anil dirty overcoat). Of course, Dad. It really isn't fair to scold other people for your own blunder.
Dad. Oh, there you are! (Notices Jack's clothes.) What the devil is this?
Jack. What, Dad?
Dad. Drunk again, sir? Rolling in the gutter? And on your birthday too!
Jack.