VAN ZORN
[Looking down]
Yes, I see it. The business will succeed.
FARNHAM
To be sure.
[Becoming over-confident]
Van Zorn, from whom all blessings flow, do you realize that we are beaten by Old Hundred?
VAN ZORN
[Gravely]
I don’t like your word — beaten again. But I should like to ask you one question. When you came in this evening, you said something about your destiny being a very good destiny; and you said, also, that it had encountered — I think that was your word — one that was better. Now, if I have a right to ask the question, I wish you would be good enough to tell me what the devil Lucas was doing this afternoon at Mrs. Lovett’s.
VAN ZORN
He came to tell Miss Vannevar that he was going west, and to say good-bye.
FARNHAM
Going west — eh?
[Excited but satirical]
And if you hadn’t kept Lucas from going west — whatever that means — I suppose you would have been contented for all time with your — your one interview.
VAN ZORN
[After some deliberation]
If Lucas had gone — west, — you would still have recovered your ring.
[They look at each other until Farnham shrugs his shoulders and looks at the floor]
When Lucas changed his mind about going, he was not in any manner influenced by the ring or by the person who wore it.
[Pause]
But why say more about that?
[His last wards come rather thickly; he moves away and finally remains standing before the picture]
By the way, Farnham, what are you going to do with this picture?
FARNHAM
[Drily]
You speak as if you wanted it yourself.
VAN ZORN
Will you give it to me?
[He is evidently in earnest]
FARNHAM
[Cynically]
Yes, take it. Take everything in sight.
VAN ZORN
[Thoughtfully]
I could almost believe that this picture was painted for me — without your knowledge.
FARNHAM
[Drily]
More destiny?
VAN ZORN
[Taking a small knife from his pocket]
I don’t know what else to call it.
[He begins to cut the head and shoulders from the canvas]
FARNHAM
[Going quickly towards him]
Here! What do you think you are doing?
VAN ZORN
[Cutting diligently]
I am getting rid of one of the most insincere
[Cuts]
and exasperating
[Cuts]
bits of charlatanry
[Cuts]
that man’s eyes have ever looked on. I am doing it partly for the good of your artistic conscience, and partly for reasons of my own.
FARNHAM
[Unable to protest]
All right, the thing is yours.
[With cynical observation]
But I suppose you know that you are disintegrating twenty-five hundred dollars worth of high art?
VAN ZORN
[Throwing the piece of canvas into the fire]
Is that your figure?
FARNHAM
For the present, yes. And therefore it seems to me that your eccentric little ingle-flame over there is just a bit extravagant.
VAN ZORN
[Punching the burning canvas with the poker]
I shouldn’t worry about that if I were you. We are living in an extravagant age.
[He puts away the poker and stands watching the fire. At length he turns to Farnham and speaks with a subdued intensity and a new emphasis]
It is your age, Farnham, and you had better not play with it.
[Slowly]
If I were you, I should try to meet it half way.
[Van Zorn throws his cigar into the fire and stands looking at the smouldering canvas, holding his hands behind him. Farnham goes toward him slowly, holds out his hand and looks for a moment into Van Zorn’s eyes. Van Zorn takes his hand, lets it go, and continues to look down into the fire]
FARNHAM
[Embarrassed and with evident regret]
I’m sorry, old fellow, but I didn’t quite... I didn’t realize that you were quite so much in earnest.
[Van Zorn makes no reply, but remains looking at the fire. Farnham sits dawn on the edge of the window-seat and looks thoughtfully at the floor before him. Finally he looks again at Van Zorn, and a slow incredulous smile comes over his face. Then he shrugs his shoulders, as if he was still in doubt about something, and the curtain falls slowly.]
THE END
THE PORCUPINE
A DRAMA IN THREE ACTS
CONTENTS
CHARACTERS
ACT I
ACT II
ACT III
TO LOUIS V. LEDOUX
CHARACTERS
LARRY SCAMMON
ROLLO BREWSTER
STUART HOOVER
DR. BEN BAKER
RACHEL
ALMA
MRS. HOOVER
The scene is laid in Tadmor, a New England village. The action covers a period of three days.
ACT I
A comfortably furnished room in an old New England house. In the rear are two windows, with brown shades. Between them is an open stove, in which bright coals are burning. Well to the left is a door that opens into a vestibule, in the rear of which is another door that opens on the street. On the left, not far down, is a door that opens into a bedroom, which is now occupied by RACHEL SCAMMON’S convalescent child.
Opposite, on the right, is the door of ROLLO BREWSTER’S study, and further down on the same side is another door.
Well down in front is a rather large table, upon which are papers, books, writing materials, and a large lamp. To the left of the table is an old leather-covered reading chair and further to the left is an old-fashioned rocking chair. In the corner, on the right, is a book-case, and there are several small chairs. The room is dimly lighted at first by the winter twilight outside.
ALMA SCAMMON and STUART HOOVER are discovered standing near the stove — she to the right, he to the left of it. She is an attractive woman, past thirty, rather pale, and possesses a natural charm and vivacity of manner that has been subdued by a secluded and unhappy life during her later years. Her most obvious characteristics are her mobile features and a tendency to sarcasm in her manner and speech. She has suffered a great deal, but she doesn’t mean that anyone shall know how much. STUART HOOVER is a good-looking young attorney, a year or two older than ALMA, with fine and regular features that do not suggest a great deal of initiative force.
His voice and manner reveal too often his disappointment, assumed indifference, and occasional cynicism. He is well dressed, and has put on his overcoat. He holds in his hand a rough cloth hat, which he strokes from time to time as he talks. As the curtain rises, slow violin music is heard from the child’s room on the left, through the closed door, and it continues to be heard throughout the following scene. (“Right” and “Left” are from the stage throughout the play)
ALMA
[Looking up from the fire]
Must you go, Stuart?
STUART
[Indifferently]
Must? I don’t know that I must do anything — but remain a misguided imbecile for the rest of my life.
ALMA
[Frowning]
But, Stuart, — you shouldn’t say such things to me.
STUART
I know it.
[Forcing a laugh]
But you see, Alma, we’ve talked about the weather, and about Rachel, and about the boy, and the dog, and the cat...
ALMA
[With a sigh]
But, Stuart, can’t you do something? Can’t you make Rollo change?
[With energy]
> Ever since poor Larry came back, Rollo has been cruel to him.... And I can’t bear it much longer.
STUART
[Smiling thoughtfully]
“Poor Larry,” did you say?
ALMA
Yes, I did. Is it strange that I should call him “Poor Larry,” after Rollo’s treatment of him?
STUART
Oh no, it isn’t strange. Only, I was thinking.
[He glances at the study door]
Larry says, “Poor Rollo.”
ALMA
How much does Larry know?
STUART
Oh, Larry knows a good deal.
[Incisively]
Among other things, he knows that I threw myself away ten years ago, and left you where you are.
[She looks behind her]
Yes, and about Rollo. Larry knows that Rollo is doing his best to follow in my tracks: to make himself the talk of the town, and to make me more ridiculous than ever.
ALMA
Stuart!
[She looks towards the window and scowls]
Why did that woman ever come to this place?
STUART
[Stroking his hat]
God only knows.
[Looking up at her]
Alma, I believe sometimes that you hate me — for marrying that woman. You may as well tell me the truth at last, and let me know.
ALMA
You needn’t have said that, Stuart. For I came to understand, after a time, that she — your wife — brought something of a world that you and I had never known —
something that I could not possibly have given you.
[Rather drily]
There were her good looks for one thing, and then there was her voice — and her singing. Compared with my poor little croak....
STUART
[With some venom]
I don’t think you can tell me anything about her voice.
ALMA
Very well.
[Seriously]
But I knew that you never loved her — really — even though you did marry her. Perhaps that is the reason why I forgave you — or one of the reasons.
STUART
You are good enough to say that, but I married her, all the same. She found out that I had some property, and then she found that she could lead me wherever she liked with her shape and her face and her ways, and her infernal music.... Oh, but what’s the use?
ALMA
What a fright I must have been in those days.
STUART
Don’t mind if I talk like a fool, — though, as I said before, what’s the use? If it hadn’t been for a few thousand dollars, she would have played for a time with me, just as she is playing now with Rollo, and then she would have let me go.
ALMA
You mean by that, I suppose, that she would have let you come back to poor little frumpy Me.
STUART
I’m glad you can laugh, anyhow.
ALMA
How can I keep from laughing — sometimes?
STUART
[Wearily]
Don’t attempt it. Laugh all you can. Make everybody around you laugh. Make Rachel laugh.
ALMA
Poor Rachel! I wonder if she will ever laugh again.
STUART
Probably not — unless Larry makes her. That fiddle of his might be of some assistance if he would only stick to the Dead March in Saul.
[Glancing at the door behind him]
It’s a good thing for the boy, anyhow.
ALMA
[As if frightened]
Do you know, Stuart, that the child seems to me to care more for his — his Uncle Larry — than he does for anyone in the house?
STUART
Yes. And I have thought that if you were in Rachel’s place, you would go so far as to imagine, at any rate, a way out of all this.
ALMA
[Smiling]
Do you know what Larry calls you?
STUART
No, and I don’t care — so long as he doesn’t call me “Poor Stuart.”
ALMA
He calls you Stuart, the blind man.
STUART
That must be an easy thing for Larry to say. And I
suppose I was only quoting Larry when I said what I
did about you and Rachel.
[Drily]
Larry sees a way out of everything — or he makes a fellow think so.
ALMA
[Eagerly]
What does he say?
STUART
Not much. He taps his rubber boots with that everlasting bamboo stick of his, and tells a fellow to cheer up.
I could do as much myself, if I had his infernal assurance.
ALMA
But Larry can’t see in the dark.
STUART
Perhaps he can.
ALMA
I’m afraid, Stuart, that Larry has always been too fond of short cuts.
[Smiling]
You know that he studied geometry once?
STUART
[Wearily]
I didn’t know that Larry ever studied anything.
ALMA
[Still smiling]
He did; and when he learned that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points, he said to me: “This is all the geometry that I shall ever need. You may learn the rest of it yourself, and teach it to the Wild Man of Borneo.”
[The music ceases]
But Larry has stopped playing. He must be coming out.
STUART
[Looking past her to the study door, on the right, which opens]
No, it’s Rollo.
[Distinctly]
Rollo is coming out. How are you, Rollo?
ROLLO BREWSTER enters from the right. He is a schoolmaster, a few years younger than Larry, though not so in appearance, full blooded, good looking, but not in a very pleasant frame of mind. His voice is full and resonant and a little hard. He speaks, even when angry, as if with a trained clerical accent. He is dressed in black, with a frock coat, throughout the play, and his manner is marked by a singular lack of magnetism.
ROLLO
How are you, Stuart?
[He looks at Stuart keenly, moves toward the table, stops, and puts his hand to his head]
STUART
[Drily]
Headache?
ROLLO
[Carefully]
Eye-strain.
STUART
I wonder if my eyes are strained.
ROLLO
[Suspiciously]
Do they trouble you, Stuart?
STUART
[Distinctly]
I have been using them lately.
ROLLO
You must be careful.
STUART
Yes.... We must all be careful.
ROLLO
[Disturbed]
Alma, don’t you think it is time to light the lamp?
[At the table, as he lights the lamp]
What have you and Stuart found to say to each other?
ALMA
Oh, we were trying to think of a way to make Rachel happy.
ROLLO
[Unpleasantly]
Do you expect anyone to be happy in this house while that — that fellow is about the place?
[He indicates the child’s room, from which there comes now a sound of lively music played softly]
ALMA
Do you mean Larry?
ROLLO
[Decisively]
I do mean Larry. I mean that fellow who ran away from home ten years ago and has now come back a vagabond. It was he who made his own mother mourn the day that he was born.
STUART
Are you sure of that, Rollo? And are you sure that you met him half-way when he came back?
ROLLO
[Frowning and listening to the music]
Oh, that everlasting fiddle!
ALMA
But you forget something, Rollo. Doctor Ben says that Lar
ry and his fiddle will do more for the child than all the medicine that was ever made.
ROLLO
Indeed! Then Larry comes to us in the character of a musical prescription, does he?
ALMA
[Calmly]
He comes to us, Rollo, as our brother.
ROLLO
Thank heaven, he is no brother of mine.
ALMA
Your father married our mother.
ROLLO
Well, that was not my affair, was it?
ALMA
[Hopelessly]
No, Rollo, that was not your affair.
[There is a strained silence, broken only by the fiddle in the next room. Presently the music ends abruptly, there is a sound of laughter as the door at the left opens, and LARRY SCAMMON enters. He is well but not heavily built, possessing unusual vivacity and high spirits and a chronic inability to take anything very seriously. He is dressed in a nondescript costume consisting chiefly of a blue pea-jacket and a pair of dingy rubber boots, into which a pair of old trousers are tucked.
He has a certain fineness about him, in spite of his thoughtlessness and his rough exterior]
LARRY
[Tapping his boots with his bamboo stick]
Works of Edwin Arlington Robinson Page 64
