If (Dunsany)/Act 4
ACT IV[edit]
SCENE 1
Three years elapse.
Scene: The street outside the Acacias.
Time: Evening.
[Ali leans on a pillar-box watching. John shuffles on L. He is miserably dressed, an Englishman down on his luck. A nightingale sings far off.]
JOHN
A nightingale here. Well, I never.
Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir, The nightingales that guard thy ways Cease not to give thee, after God And after Paradise, all praise. . .
The infernal place! I wish I had never seen it! Wonder what set me thinking of that?
[The nightingale sings another bar. JOHN turns to his left and walks down the little path that leads to the door of the Acacias.]
I mustn't come here. Mustn't come to a fine house like this. Mustn't. Mustn't.
[He draws near it reluctantly. He puts his hand to the bell and withdraws it. Then he rings and snatches his hand away. He prepares to run away. Finally he rings it repeatedly, feverishly, violently.
Enter LIZA, opening the door.]
LIZA
Ullo, 'Oo's this!
JOHN
I oughtn't to have rung, miss, I know. I oughtn't to have rung your bell; but I've seen better days, and wondered if--I wondered . . .
LIZA
I oughtn't to 'ave opened the door, that's wot I oughtn't. Now I look at you, I oughtn't to 'ave opened it. Wot does you want?
JOHN
O, don't turn me away now, miss. I must come here. I must.
LIZA
Must? Why?
JOHN
I don't know.
LIZA
Wot do you want?
JOHN
Who lives here?
LIZA
Mr. and Mrs. Cater; firm of Briggs, Cater, and Johnstone. What do you want?
JOHN
Could I see Mr. Cater?
LIZA
He's out. Dining at the Mansion House.
JOHN
Oh.
LIZA
He is.
JOHN
Could I see Mrs. Cater?
LIZA
See Mrs. Cater? No, of course you couldn't.
[She prepares to shut the door.]
JOHN
Miss! Miss! Don't go, miss. Don't shut me out. If you knew what I'd suffered, if you knew what I'd suffered. Don't!
LIZA [coming forward again]
Suffered? Why? Ain't you got enough to eat?
JOHN
No, I've had nothing all day.
LIZA
'Aven't you really now?
JOHN
No. And I get little enough at any time.
LIZA [kindly]
You ought to work.
JOHN
I . . . I can't. I can't bring myself . . . I've seen better times.
LIZA
Still, you could work.
JOHN
I--I can't grub for halfpennies when I've --when I've . . .
LIZA
When you've what?
JOHN
Lost millions.
LIZA
Millions?
JOHN
I've lost everything.
LIZA
'Ow did you lose it?
JOHN
Through being blind. But never mind, never mind. It's all gone now, and I'm hungry.
LIZA
'Ow long 'ave you been down on your luck?
JOHN
It's three years now.
LIZA
Couldn't get a regular job, like?
JOHN
Well, I suppose I might have. I suppose it's my fault, miss. But the heart was out of me.
LIZA
Dear me, now.
JOHN
Miss.
LIZA
Yes?
JOHN
You've a kind face . . .
LIZA
'Ave I?
JOHN
Yes. Would you do me a kind turn?
LIZA
Well, I dunno. I might, as yer so down on yer luck--I don't like to see a man like you are, I must say.
JOHN
Would you let me come into the big house and speak to the missus a moment?
LIZA
She'd row me awful if I did. This house is
very respectable.
JOHN
I feel, if you would, I feel, I feel my luck might change.
LIZA
But I don't know what she'd say if I did.
JOHN
Miss, I must.
LIZA
I don't know wot she'd say.
JOHN
I must come in, miss, I must.
LIZA
I don't know what she'll say.
JOHN
I must. I can't help myself.
LIZA
I don't know what she'll . . .
[JOHN is in, door shuts.]
[ALI throws his head up and laughs, but quite silently.]
Curtain
SCENE 2
The drawing-room at the Acacias.
A moment later.
The scene is the same as in Act I, except that the sofa which was red is now green, and the photograph of Aunt Martha is replaced by that of a frowning old colonel. The ages of the four children in the photographs are the same, but their sexes have changed.
[MARY reading. Enter LIZA.]
LIZA
There's a gentleman to see you, mum, which is, properly speaking, not a gentleman at all, but 'e would come in, mum.
MARY
Not a gentleman! Good gracious, Liza, whatever do you mean?
LIZA
'E would come in, mum.
MARY
But what does he want?
LIZA [over shoulder]
What does you want?
JOHN [entering]
I am a beggar.
MARY
O, really? You've no right to be coming into houses like this, you know.
JOHN
I know that, madam, I know that. Yet somehow I couldn't help myself. I've been begging for nearly three years now, and I've never done this before, yet somehow to-night I felt impelled to come to this house. I beg your pardon, humbly. Hunger drove me to it.
MARY
Hunger?
JOHN
I'm very hungry, madam.
MARY
Unfortunately Mr. Cater has not yet returned, or perhaps he might . . .
JOHN
If you could give me a little to eat yourself, madam, a bit of stale bread, a crust, something that Mr. Cater would not want.
MARY
It's very unusual, coming into a house like this and at such an hour--it's past eleven o'clock--and Mr. Cater not yet returned. Are you really hungry?
JOHN
I'm very, very hungry.
MARY
Well, it's very unusual; but perhaps I might get you a little something.
[She picks up an empty plate from the supper table.]
JOHN
Madam, I do not know how to thank you.
MARY
O, don't mention it.
JOHN
I have not met such kindness for three years. I . . . I'm starving. I've known better times.
MARY [kindly]
I'll get you something. You've known better times, you say?
JOHN
I had been intended for work in the City. And then, then I travelled, and--and I got very much taken with foreign countries, and I thought--but it all went to pieces. I lost everything. Here I am, starving.
MARY [as one might reply to the Mayoress who had lost her gloves]
O, I'm so sorry.
[JOHN sighs deeply.]
MARY
I'll get a nice bit of something to eat.
JOHN
A thousand thanks to you, madam.
[Exit MARY with the plate.]
LIZA [who has been standing near the door all the time]
Well, she's going to get you something.
JOHN
Heaven reward her.
LIZA
Hungry as all that?
JOHN
I'm on my beam ends.
LIZA
Cheer up!
JOHN
That's all very well to say, living in a fine house, as you are, dry and warm and well-fed. But what have I to cheer up about?
LIZA
Isn't there anything you could pop?
JOHN
What?
LIZA
Nothing you can take to the pawn-shop? I've tided over times I wanted a bit of cash that way sometimes.
JOHN
What could I pawn?
LIZA
Well, well you've a watch-chain.
JOHN
A bit of old leather.
LIZA
But what about the watch?
JOHN
I've no watch.
LIZA
O, funny having a watch-chain then.
JOHN
O, that's only for this; it's a bit of crystal.
LIZA
Funny bit of a thing. What's it for?
JOHN
I don't know.
LIZA
Was it give to you?
JOHN
I don't know. I don't know how I got it.
LIZA
Don't know how you got it?
JOHN
No, I can't remember at all. But I've a feeling about it, I can't explain what I feel; but I don't part with it.
LIZA
Don't you? You might get something on it, likely and have a square meal.
JOHN
I won't part with it.
LIZA
Why?
JOHN
I feel I won't. I never have.
LIZA
Feel you won't?
JOHN
Yes, I have that feeling very strongly. I've kept it always. Everything else is gone.
LIZA
Had it long?
JOHN
Yes, yes. About ten years. I found I had it one morning in a train. It's odd that I can't remember.
LIZA
But wot d'yer keep it for?
JOHN
Just for luck.
[LIZA breaks into laughter.]
LIZA
Well, you are funny.
JOHN
I'm on my beam ends. I don't know if that is funny.
LIZA
You're as down in your luck as ever you can be, and you go keeping a thing like that for luck. Why, you couldn't be funnier.
JOHN
Well, what would you do?
LIZA
Why, I 'ad a mascot once, all real gold; and I had rotten luck. Rotten luck I had. Rotten.
JOHN
And what did you do?
LIZA
Took it back to the shop.
JOHN
Yes?
LIZA
They was quite obliging about it. Gave me a wooden one instead, what was guaranteed. Luck changed very soon altogether.
JOHN
Could luck like mine change?
LIZA
Course it could.
JOHN
Look at me.
LIZA
You'll be all right one of these days. Give me that mascot.
JOHN
I--I hardly like to. One has an awfully strong feeling with it.
LIZA
Give it to me. It's no good.
JOHN
I--I don't like to.
LIZA
You just give it to me. I tell you it's doing you no good. I know all about them mascots. Give it me.
JOHN
Well, I'll give it you. You're the first woman that's been kind to me since . . . I'm on my beam ends.
[Face in hands--tears.]
LIZA
There, there. I'm going to smash it, I am. These mascots! One's better without 'em. Your luck'll turn, never fear. And you've a nice supper coming.
[She puts it in a corner of the mantelpiece and hammers it. It smashes.
The photographs of the four children change slightly. The Colonel gives place to Aunt Martha. The green sofa turns red. JOHN's clothes become neat and tidy. The hammer in LIZA's hand turns to a feather duster. Nothing else changes.]
A VOICE [off, in agony]
Allah! Allah ! Allah!
LIZA
Some foreign gentleman must have hurt himself.
JOHN
H'm. Sounds like it . . . Liza.
[LIZA, dusting the photographs on the wall, just behind the corner of the mantelpiece.]
LIZA
Funny. Thought I--thought I 'ad a hammer in my hand.
JOHN
Really, Liza, I often think you have. You really should be more careful. Only--only yesterday you broke the glass of Miss Jane's photograph.
LIZA
Thought it was a hammer.
JOHN
Really, I think it sometimes is. It's a mistake you make too often, Liza. You--you must be more careful.
LIZA
Very well, sir. Funny my thinking I 'ad an 'ammer in my 'and, though.
[She goes to tidy the little supper table. Enter MARY with food on a plate.]
MARY
I've brought you your supper, John.
JOHN
Thanks, Mary. I--I think I must have taken a nap.
MARY
Did you, dear? Thanks, Liza. Run along to bed now, Liza. Good gracious, it's half-past eleven.
[MARY makes final arrangements of supper table.]
LIZA
Thank you, mum.
[Exit ]
JOHN
Mary.
MARY
Yes, John.
JOHN
I--I thought I'd caught that train.
Curtain