More Portmanteau Plays

NATHANIEL

I gave no address.

JOHN

But on second thought, I made up my mind to forgive you—

NATHANIEL

Thank you.

JOHN

To let bygones be bygones.

NATHANIEL

That is the better way, brother: let the dead past bury its dead.

JOHN

Why did you run away from home?

NATHANIEL

Because we couldn't agree, John.

JOHN

I was older than you; my judgment was mature; I was the head of the family, in my father's place.

NATHANIEL

We didn't speak the same language. I wanted something out of life that you couldn't understand; that my father couldn't understand. I determined to get it by myself.

JOHN

Well?

NATHANIEL

And so, I ran away.

JOHN

Leaving no trace, no word.

NATHANIEL

Oh, yes, I left a very important word—"Good-bye."

JOHN

You were willing to leave all the work of our father's business on my shoulders.

NATHANIEL

You were willing to take it all. And I wanted my freedom.

JOHN

You were selfish and heartless.

NATHANIEL

Selfish? Because I had my life to live and meant to live it?

JOHN

You should have told us where you were living.

NATHANIEL

I preferred to work out my salvation alone, without interference. My going away gave you a free hand. John, don't tell me that you were not overjoyed that my flight gave you all my father's fortune.

JOHN

It was my duty as head of the family to protect you.

NATHANIEL

I didn't ask for protection. I wanted understanding.

JOHN

A boy of eighteen must not be allowed freedom.

NATHANIEL

Perhaps not, John, but he must be allowed to grow toward his goal. Eighteen is not too young for a man to fly through the air in defense of his country, or you. The burden of the world today is on the shoulders of men from eighteen to eighty, share and share alike.... I wanted to be a writer—

JOHN

And our brother Henry wanted to be a musical composer and our sister Emily wanted to be an actress! A fine putout for the leading commercial family of this state!

NATHANIEL

Well, John, our brother and our sister have paid the final penalty. They have died. Henry left a handful of worthless little tunes and Emily left a trunkful of costumes as monuments to their folly. And now Emily's boy is here under your wing.

JOHN

He's a dreamer like all the rest of you.

NATHANIEL (with interest; tenderly)

Yes?

JOHN

He spends all his leisure time playing with that fool toy there.

[He points to the model theatre.

Nathaniel smiles and crosses to the piano and lifts the cloth that covers the theatre; then he looks at the placard and laughs joyously.

NATHANIEL

"Zenobia." " Alexander Jefferson, Sr."

JOHN

He pretends that's his name—Alexander Jefferson, Sr!

NATHANIEL

People like to have other names. Look at all artists—like writers, pugilists, and actors, and base ball players. And the Sr. Is an effort to appear older.

JOHN

Well, I'm breaking him of all that nonsense. I allow him only a certain number of hours for play. Emily used to spoil him and it's been a task to conquer him.

NATHANIEL

Jonathan is fourteen. When I was fourteen—What are Jonathan's tastes?

JOHN

He reads all the time and he wants to write plays and poetry; but I am conquering that silliness.

NATHANIEL

I think I am going to like my nephew. John, I'll come into the house shortly. I think I'll look at this toy a moment and I'll get Aunt Letitia to show me some of Emily's things. A mere matter of sentiment.

JOHN

Now don't put any foolishness into the boy's head.

NATHANIEL

I promise you I sha'n't try to change the boy's head, brother.

JOHN

I play golf from five to six.

NATHANIEL

Oh, you've taken up athletics?

JOHN

The doctor's advice. Will you join me?

NATHANIEL

Thank you, no.

JOHN

Very well. I'll see you at dinner.

NATHANIEL

Thank you. (John goes out. Nathaniel looks musingly at Letitia who has been sitting silently on Emily's trunk, knitting, Nathaniel crosses to her and sits on a stool at her feet) Does John always talk to you so much, little church mouse?

LETITIA

I have been a poor relation for thirty-five years, my boy, and to be a successful poor relation, one must learn the art of silence.

NATHANIEL

No wonder I ran away!

LETITIA

But you should have written to me.

NATHANIEL

Perhaps—I should—yes—I should have written, but I didn't. You see, Aunt Letty, I was a sensitive boy. All my life I had dreamed of doing my own work. I saw Henry disappointed in life, I saw Emily made miserable enough through the traditions of the family. John couldn't understand me and I couldn't understand him. There was no common meeting-ground. John was the head of the family and so deeply was the idea of submission to rule ingrained in me that I could think of only one way out of my restraint. I wouldn't study engineering, and I wouldn't continue at Somerset School. Well, I ran away from my ancestral castle to find my way in a new world. I think I have found it.

LETITIA

Jonathan doesn't want to study engineering, either.

NATHANIEL (Looks closely at her a moment and then smiles)

As Ibsen would say—Ghosts! (He walks toward the window) Poor John!

LETITIA

Poor Jonathan!

[At this moment Jonathan enters the room. He is a slender boy of fourteen with a deep problem in his eyes. When he smiles before his elders, which is seldom, he seems always prepared to restrain the smile. His voice is just changing and this adds to his reticence. He has a tremendous capacity for expressing wonderment and, as usual with one of his type, he is capable of great displays of temper. He gives the impression of thinking about everything he sees. He is at the age of wonder and only custom prevents the world from becoming the promised land of visions and enchantments.

NATHANIEL

Poor Jonathan!

[He turns and sees the boy.

The two stand face to face for a moment. For Nathaniel it is the first moment of a new relationship. For Jonathan it is a moment of uncertainty. He has heard himself called "Poor Jonathan" and he is facing another male relative.

Jonathan looks first at Letitia, then at Nathaniel and then at Letitia.

LETITIA

Jonathan, this is your Uncle Nathaniel. Nathaniel, this is Emily's boy.

NATHANIEL (Holds out his hand which Jonathan takes very shyly)

Jonathan!

JONATHAN

How do you do, sir?

NATHANIEL

How tall you are!

JONATHAN (quite conscious of his short trousers)

Yes, sir.

NATHANIEL

I didn't take you away from any studies, did I?

JONATHAN

No, sir.... I was just writing something when Susan called me.

NATHANIEL

May I ask what you were writing?

JONATHAN

Yes, sir....

[He swallows.

… A play.

NATHANIEL

A play! Zenobia?

JONATHAN (Looks quickly for some indication of laughter in Nathaniel's eyes)

Yes, sir.

NATHANIEL

It's a tragedy, isn't it?

JONATHAN

Yes, sir.

NATHANIEL

In ten acts.

JONATHAN

There may be only eight.

NATHANIEL

Then I know who you are! (Jonathan looks at him in surprise) You are the celebrated dramatist, Alexander Jefferson, Sr.

JONATHAN

Did Aunt Letitia tell you?

NATHANIEL

No, sir. I read it on the billboards. (Jonathan laughs with a catch in his breath) And I should like to attend a performance, Mr. Jefferson.

JONATHAN

It isn't finished yet.

NATHANIEL

Well, when am I to see this theatre?

LETITIA

Your Uncle Nathaniel and I shall come together.

JONATHAN

You've seen all the plays.

LETITIA

That doesn't make any difference. I'd like to see them again.

[Jonathan looks at her to be sure she is in earnest. Then he smiles.

JONATHAN

I'll finish Zenobia for tomorrow.

NATHANIEL

Agreed! Can you get the scenery ready?

JONATHAN

I painted it last week.

LETITIA

You must have the orchestra, too, Jonathan.

JONATHAN

Yes, ma'am. Susan has some new pieces.

NATHANIEL

Is Susan the orchestra?

JONATHAN

Yes, sir.

NATHANIEL

What else have you written?

JONATHAN

A lot of plays, sir. Mother and I used to write little plays. I don't write many any more.

NATHANIEL

Why not?

JONATHAN

I'm getting too big.

NATHANIEL

Do you ever write anything beside plays?

JONATHAN

Yes, sir.

NATHANIEL

That's splendid. Stories?

JONATHAN

Yes, sir.... And I've written some po—poetry.

NATHANIEL

Excellent!

JONATHAN

They're not very good, but Susan always wants me to write the poetry for the music.

[Aunt Letitia has repacked the trunk and locked it. She sees that Nathaniel and Jonathan are getting on famously.

LETITIA

I'll go to the house now and you can talk to Jonathan, Nathaniel.

[Jonathan looks appealingly at Letitia, but with a smile she goes downstairs.

Jonathan and Nathaniel look at each other for an embarrassed minute, then Jonathan takes refuge at his theatre.

NATHANIEL

May I see some of your plays?

JONATHAN

Do you really want to see them?

NATHANIEL

Yes.

[Jonathan goes to a box on the piano in which there are many manuscripts carefully bound. He hands one to Nathaniel.

JONATHAN

Here is one that mother and I wrote. She loved the theatre.

NATHANIEL (taking the strange-looking little manuscript. Reading:)

"Robin Hood and His Merry Men."

JONATHAN

We used to make all those old stories into plays.

NATHANIEL

Do you like to write?

JONATHAN

Oh, yes. I wish I could write real plays, but there's no one to help me now. My mother used to correct them and tell me what was wrong. She knew a lot about the theatre and she used to tell me all sorts of things. But now Aunt Letitia doesn't say anything. Sometimes she comes to a show, but she can't help me. And Uncle John doesn't like the theatre. He thinks I'm too old to give shows, but I can't help it. There's nothing I like so much.

NATHANIEL

May I read this some time?

JONATHAN

Yes, sir.... Would you like to see it played?

NATHANIEL

I want to see them all.

JONATHAN

Forty-one of them?

NATHANIEL

Forty-one of them! Where do you keep them all?

JONATHAN

Here in this box.

[He shows all the manuscripts.

NATHANIEL

What are the pink ones?

JONATHAN

Those are the ones mother liked best and these—(showing blue ones) are the ones I liked best.... I like them all now, but it used to be lots of fun to choose our favorites.

NATHANIEL

What is this one that's different from all the rest?

JONATHAN

That's one that mother wrote all by herself. It's best of all.

NATHANIEL

You must save these carefully, Jonathan—all your life.

JONATHAN

Oh, yes, sir.

NATHANIEL

Some day you may be proud of them.

JONATHAN

See—she wrote this, and I wrote this. I was a bad writer, wasn't I?

NATHANIEL

What do you want to do, Jonathan?

JONATHAN

You mean what do I want to be?

NATHANIEL

Yes.

JONATHAN

I want to write plays.

NATHANIEL

Is that all?

JONATHAN

Well, I'd like to run a theatre.

NATHANIEL

What else?

JONATHAN

I'd—you won't tell anyone, will you?

NATHANIEL

Of course not.

JONATHAN

You see, Uncle John wants me to go to Somerset School to study engineering and learn the business.

NATHANIEL

And you don't want to—Is that it?

JONATHAN

I'd rather be a writer.

NATHANIEL

They say you can't make any money at writing.

JONATHAN

That's what Uncle John says, but I want to just the same.

NATHANIEL

If you follow John's advice, you'll be a rich man.

JONATHAN

I'd rather be poor. What would you do, Uncle Nathaniel?

NATHANIEL

I—why I'd—Oh, come now, Jonathan—you know John is the head of the Clay family and you and he must decide this question.

JONATHAN

Wouldn't you want to be what you want to be?

NATHANIEL

Perhaps I should.

JONATHAN

I don't see how anyone can decide what you want to be—no matter how old he is.

NATHANIEL

Have you ever talked to John?

JONATHAN

Oh, yes, sir.

NATHANIEL

What did he say?

JONATHAN

He said I had to study engineering or go to work in the factory next fall for good.

NATHANIEL

What do you want to do?

JONATHAN

I want to go to a fine prep school and then to college and then—

NATHANIEL

Then what?

JONATHAN

I want to be an actor!!

NATHANIEL

I see.

JONATHAN

Don't tell anybody.

NATHANIEL

I won't. That's pretty far from engineering, isn't it?

JONATHAN

Yes, sir. But everybody can't be alike. You and Uncle John aren't anything alike.

NATHANIEL

And we're brothers, too.

JONATHAN

Do you ever get all mixed up and don't know what to do?

NATHANIEL

Oh, yes. I think everybody does.

JONATHAN

What do you do then?

NATHANIEL

I do something very silly.

JONATHAN

Do you do silly things, too?

NATHANIEL

Yes. I'm afraid I do.

JONATHAN

What do you do when you get all mixed up?

NATHANIEL

I'll tell you—it might not work with everybody, you know—but it works with me.

JONATHAN

Yes, sir!

NATHANIEL

My mother used to sing me a song called—"There is a green hill far away." I always liked that song because it gave me a feeling of contentment and happiness. I imagined that I could see that hill with its pleasant green slopes and at its foot lay a little cottage all cool and pleasant and open to the winds. There were no locks and bolts to keep one out or to keep one in. I used to imagine that I was climbing that hill to the top of the world and when I reached the summit I could see—

JONATHAN (enthralled)

I know—the whole wide world.

NATHANIEL

Its very bigness made me happy in my imagination.... Then when I grew up and heavy troubles came to me I remembered the Green Hill Far Away and one day I found such a hill and I climbed it—clear to the top—and there below me lay the world—the whole wide world—and I told the world something then and felt the better for it.... Jonathan, there is nothing like a hilltop to make a man feel worth while.

JONATHAN

I know what you mean.... But I always want to jump when I look down from any place, do you?

NATHANIEL

I suppose everybody does.

JONATHAN

Uncle John thinks every boy ought to be alike.

NATHANIEL

Many schools used to think that way.

JONATHAN

But boys don't all think the same. They're different just like men, only they don't know so much.

NATHANIEL

Perhaps not.

JONATHAN

Uncle John won't let me put on long pants until I'm fifteen.

NATHANIEL

He let me put them on when I was fifteen, too.

JONATHAN

Were you as tall as I am?

NATHANIEL

Just about the same height, but my legs were like pipe stems and I was very much ashamed.

JONATHAN

So am I.

NATHANIEL

You'll forget all about it after you're fifteen.

JONATHAN

I can talk to you like I used to talk to my mother.

NATHANIEL

Thank you. We're going to be fine friends, aren't we?

JONATHAN

You bet. Is it silly for me to like to write plays?

NATHANIEL

Why do you ask that?

JONATHAN

Because Uncle John says it's silly.

NATHANIEL

Well, it all depends upon the way you look at it, Jonathan. The world has never been able to agree as to what is and what is not silly. Mr. Browning, the poet, might have considered hooks and eyes the silliest things in the world; but to Mr. de Long, they were, no doubt, the most important things in the world. Many men agree with Mr. Browning and many ladies agree with Mr. de Long.

JONATHAN

That's what I think.

NATHANIEL

You and I probably have many thoughts in common.

[Susan and Mlle. Perrault enter. Mlle. Perrault is a Frenchwoman of exquisite grace and poise. She speaks English fluently, but with a charming accent and an occasional Gallic phrase larding her pleasant sentences. Her entrance into the room is electric. She has already won Susan.

MLLE. PERRAULT

Ah, there you are, Mr. Nathaniel Clay. I met la belle Susanne in the roadway and she told me you were in the lumber room in the carriage house and I say to her, "We shall track him to his lair." Besides, I want to see what a lumber room is.

NATHANIEL

I was hiding from you.

MLLE. PERRAULT

Villain! And this is Jonathan. How do you do? Susanne tells me you write poetry and she writes music and she promise me that you will sing for me.

JONATHAN

I can't sing.

MLLE. PERRAULT

Ah! Susanne tell me you have a theatre and you write plays and paint scenery and write poetry and sing songs and she say if I come here to the lumber room in the carriage house you will play me a tragedy and sing me a song.

JONATHAN

Yes, ma'am.

NATHANIEL

Having introduced yourself to everybody, will you tell me, Susan, how Mlle. Perrault learned so much in such a little time?

SUSAN

Well, I was waiting for Jonathan to call me.

JONATHAN

Oh, I forgot.

MLLE. PERRAULT

She was sitting like a little fairy in the grass by the roadway, and I stop my car and ask for Mr. Nathaniel Clay and she say you are here in the lumber room in the carriage house and she tell me many things—because we like each other very, very much and we walk very, very slowly.

NATHANIEL

Now! Now that you know all about Miss Susan Sample and Mr. Jonathan—(He realizes he doesn't know Jonathan's second name) I think I shall introduce you by your pen name, Jonathan—Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr.

(To Mlle. Perrault)

I am going to let them know about you. This, lady and gentleman, is Mlle. Marthe Perrault of Paris, France. Mlle. Perrault, may I present my friend Susan and my nephew Jonathan?

MLLE. PERRAULT (falling into the mood)

I am very, very pleased to see you again, Miss Sample. It is a great pleasure to have the honor of meeting you, Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr. I am looking forward to the première of your great tragedy, Zenobia, of which Miss Sample has been telling me.

SUSAN (Puts her arms about Mlle. Perrault and Jonathan is uncertain whether to be happy or afraid)

He wrote lots of others, too.

JONATHAN

Forty-one.

NATHANIEL

I think I'll tell you two a secret. (Susan pricks up her ears) Do you like secrets?

SUSAN

Yes, sir.

NATHANIEL

And can you keep them?

SUSAN

Oh, yes, sir.

NATHANIEL

Well, some day Mlle. Perrault is going to be my wife.

[He kisses Mlle. Perrault's hand.

Mlle. Perrault shows her engagement ring.

SUSAN

When?

NATHANIEL

Very soon. She is here on some war work and when she and her father go back to France I shall follow and we shall be married.

SUSAN

Ooh—

NATHANIEL

Now you mustn't tell.

SUSAN

Honest.

JONATHAN

No, sir!

MLLE. PERRAULT

Now, we have a secret. And you are going to sing me a little song.

SUSAN

Come on, Jonathan. Let's do the new one.

JONATHAN

Well, I'll try.

[He is quite miserable with stage-fright.

Susan sits at the piano and plays a chord. Then Jonathan begins to sing with much fear in his voice.

JONATHAN (singing)All on a summer's day,With flowers by the way,A fair young prince and his purple knightFound a princess at her play.So by the crescent moonHe asked a royal boonAnd sat him down on a soft green knoll—And the night-time came too soon.MLLE. PERRAULT

Oh, that is just like a little French peasant song! How does it go? La—la—la—la—la—la.

[Susan begins to play it again.

Jonathan sings more surely than before.

Slowly Mlle. Perrault falls into the rhythm and very simply dances a little peasant dance to Jonathan's and Susan's song. The two youngsters are in the seventh heaven of delight.

So—when one is very happy or very sad, he makes a song and when he's very, very happy, he dances. And when he is very, very, very unhappy he dies. You see, I am very, very happy. When do you play Zenobia, Mr. Jefferson, Sr.?

JONATHAN

I'll have it ready tomorrow, maybe tonight.

NATHANIEL

We shall have a season ticket. But now, I want you to meet my blessed Aunt Letitia. She hasn't changed one bit in all these years.

MLLE. PERRAULT

To Aunt Letitia then. Good-bye, Jonathan. Tomorrow is the day of the great première.

JONATHAN (awkwardly)

Thanks.

MLLE. PERRAULT

And la belle petite Susanne, au revoir.

SUSAN

I'll walk with you part of the way.

MLLE. PERRAULT

Very well. Marchons, marchons....

[They go out.

NATHANIEL (holding back a little)

Good-bye, Mr. Manager.

[He goes out calling "Marthe."

Jonathan is left alone in his joy. As he stands, a strange, aimless, vacuous whistling is heard outside the window an though from one ambling by. Jonathan hears it unconsciously, moves to put his plays away, alternately whistling and singing "All on a summer's day."

Presently the whistling of the strange air is heard as though coming from downstairs. It stops and a voice calls out "Hi!"

JONATHAN

Who is it?

VOICE

It's me.

JONATHAN

What do you want?

[By this time the Voice has become a person in the shape of Hank, one of the scum of creation who asks nothing of life and gives nothing. He was born of woman and he grew into man's form, but one looking at him wonders how he survived dirt and the mere effort of breathing. He is stoutish with no marked coloring unless it be a cross between khaki and field-gray. Weather and time have conspired to render him inconspicuous. When he speaks his voice is produced with a careful effort to conserve energy. When he walks it seems to be a movement in answer to prayer rather than a physical fact.

HANK

Say—

JONATHAN

How'd you get in here?

HANK

Well, it's this way, you see. The gate was open out there and this looked pretty fine to me so I come in.

JONATHAN

You'd better go away before my uncle sees you.

HANK

Look here, young feller, I ain't goin' a-do no harm.

JONATHAN

Well, he doesn't allow strangers on the place.

HANK

I jus' come in to ask if I could sleep somewhere around here if I worked for my sleep and grub.

JONATHAN

No, he won't let you.

HANK

How do you know he won't?

JONATHAN

'Cause it's a rule.

[Hank whistles a snatch of the strange air and sits down.

HANK

Where's your pa?

JONATHAN

He's dead.

HANK

Long?

JONATHAN

Ten years ago.

HANK

How old are you?

JONATHAN

Fourteen.

HANK

Your pa died when you were four. So did mine.

JONATHAN

Did you ever have an uncle?

HANK

How many you got?

JONATHAN

I got two living and one dead.

HANK

All three of mine's dead.

[He whistles a snatch of the strange air and takes a chew of tobacco.

Where's your ma?

JONATHAN (Is about to become impatient, but an innate tolerance causes him to answer)

She died when I was twelve.

HANK

So did mine. (Whistles) We're alike in lots of ways, ain't we?

JONATHAN

What did you do when your mother died?

HANK

I felt pretty sorry.

JONATHAN

Did your brothers and sisters help you any?

HANK

Have you any brothers and sisters?

JONATHAN

No—

HANK

Me neither. (Whistles casually) No one took no notice of me.

JONATHAN

What'd you do?

HANK

I went away.

JONATHAN

Why didn't you try to work?

HANK

Couldn't find nothing suitable. 'T first I felt sort o' worried an' then I kep' walkin' on and I seen so much trouble where I went I says to myself, "Hank, you're lucky," I says. "You ain't got no fam'ly to bother you an' you ain't got nothing to worry you an' you don't have to get no place in partic'lar and you don't have to stay no place." A man wot's got a wife's all the time worrying about her health or her money spendin' or her gaddin' or her naggin'. An' a man w'ots got a fam'ly's always wondering where they'll end. An' a man's wot's got a home's all time worrying about keepin' it locked up. I bet the poor nut wot owns this place can't breathe easy for bein' scared things'll be took or burnt up. W'y you—look at you—(Whistles) You're wishin' I'd go 'cause you're 'fraid I'll take somethin'. I won't take nothin', young feller, 'cause I don't need nothin' now and I won't need nothin' till it's cold again—and then I'll git an overcoat maybe. It's too much trouble takin' things—'cause you have to carry 'em. (Whistles) You goin' to let me sleep here some place?

JONATHAN

I can't. My uncle would drive you away. Maybe he'd have you arrested.

HANK

I ain't done nothin'. I ain't hurtin' nobody.

JONATHAN

Well, he doesn't allow strangers around.

HANK (Whistles. At the window)

That's where I went by jus' now.