Hamilton (play)/Act 2

by Mary P. Hamlin and George Arliss

Layout 2

 

ACT II

SCENE.—Living-room in the house of Alexander Hamilton, 79 South Third Street, Philadelphia. Evening of the same day. It is a large room in a brick house of the period. Wall-paper dull gray, white wainscoting. Doors solid mahogany, white frames, with cut-glass handles. Woodwork of windows and fireplace handsomely carved and painted white. Room suggests dignity and comfort rather than elegance. The furniture is Chippendale. Portraits of General and Mrs. Schuyler on the wall at back. Up stage right there is a door leading to a hall and street door which can be seen by audience. Down left a door leading to other part of house. Left center, at back, two long French windows give on to narrow iron balcony on front of house. A third window is on the right up stage. Light through window suggests street lamp without. Large and small chairs stand about. At left front stands a large carved mahogany chair. It is handsomely upholstered in leather. At left centre, a large, low writing table with a pile of manuscript at one end and furnished with ink and quill pens. The fireplace is on the right down stage. On mantelpiece stands a handsome wedgewood vase and one silver four-branch candlestick; above mantel a large mirror. Between fireplace and window up right a small square mahogany table against the wall. Green rep and lace curtains ai all windows. Down right centre facing audience a Colonial sofa. Against wall, centre at back, is a mahogany bookcase, filled with books, no doors on case; standing on bookcase are two two-branch silver candlesticks. The two portraits are on the wall above. Right and left of bookcase a chair. In left corner up stage a handsome Colonial escritoire, open. Armchair in front of escritoire. Against wall left and above door a smaller similar bookcase. Two single candlesticks on ditto. Armchair back of Hamilton's table left centre. Single chair right of table. Chair against wall below door down left. Ditto against wall below fireplace down right. Small chair back of sofa.

When the curtain goes up Alexander Hamilton is discovered standing at right of table left centre, looking over a manuscript of Bill for Congress. He is a man of medium height, thirty-three years of age. In spite of heat, his ruffles are immaculate and his stock secure. He wears his own hair unpowedered and tied in a queue—with a black ribbon.

Enter l., Zekiel, an elderly negro serving man.

Zekiel.
[At door l.] 'Scuse me, Marse Ham'ton, but es mighty nigh nine o'clock.

Hamilton.
Is it, Zekiel?

Zekiel
It cut'ny am, sah.

Hamilton.
Well, what of it?

Zekiel.
[Coming toward him.] Cunnel, yo' ain' had scarcely no food all day, an* dad fetch me, dinnah's been waitin' these fo' hours.

Hamilton.
Has it? Well, bring it in here.

Zekiel.
Hi! Yo' don' eat at all then, sah. Yo' jes' looks at it an' goes on wo'kin'.

Hamilton.
[Making correction on bill.] I'm engaged on a difficult task. Uncle.

Zekiel.
Yo' shore mus' be, Marse Ham'ton.

Hamilton.
Trying to make bricks without straw.

Zekiel.
Bricksl That cut'ny do seem a mighty pore sub-astute fer dinnah, Marse Cunnel.

[Knock. Zekiel crosses at back toward door r.

Hamilton.
I'm still out, Zekiel.

Zekiel.
[Turning at r. c.] Reckon you-all bettah be home, Marse Cunnel, an' quit wo'kin' fo' to-night.

Hamilton.
I'm out, Zekiel, I'm out.

[Zekiel goes out r.; half closes room-door. Schuyler heard.

Schuyler.
[Without.] What! Still out? I'll come in, Uncle, and wait!

Zekiel.
[As Schuyler stumps in.] So he'p me, Gen'al, 'tain' no good yo' waitin'.

[Enter General Schuyler r., Zekiel backing in before him, trying to prevent him.

Hamilton.
[Who has gotten up as soon as he heard voice.] Why, father, I've been expecting you for hours.

[Meeting him up r., taking his hands and bringing him into the room.

Schuyler.
Well, I called on you hours ago. [To Zekiel.] You black nigger, you, I don't believe he's been out at all!

Zekiel.
[Down r. of Schuyler.] Why, he say he were out, and I done think he were.

Hamilton.
[l. of Schuyler.] Uncle, I thought you knew I was expecting the General.

Zekiel.
I don' know nothin' 'cept what you tells me, so help me, Marse Ham'ton.

[Shuts street door and returns, closing room door also.

Hamilton.
I'm sorry, father, but you see as Secretary of the Treasury I'm a target for all kinds and conditions of people.

[Placing the chair r. of table a little further out for Schuyler.

Schuyler.
[Sitting l. c.] People who come to borrow money, eh?

Hamilton.
[Giving Schuyler's hat to Zekiel.] Exactly. That's why I have to be "out, out, out." You see there is still a large section of the public who regard the Treasury as a sort of savings-bank, from which they can withdraw money without the preliminary inconvenience of depositing it.

[Helping Schuyler off with his cloak and giving it to Zekiel.

Schuyler.
[Having risen to take off cloak, sits again.] Well, the people are slow to understand. It's only the last few years that we've had a Treasury.

Hamilton.
[c.] Yes, we have a Treasury, but we haven't any treasure. How's the gout?

Schuyler.
How do I find Colonel Hamilton? That's what I want to know.

Hamilton.
I'm perfectly well—[puts his hand across his eyes] but I believe I'm tired.

Zekiel.
[Advancing to r. c. from behind sofa.] He ain' had no victals sence mawnin', Gen'l.

Hamilton.
Ah, perhaps that's it. I believe I'm hungry.

Schuyler.
[Turning angrily to Zekiel.] Didn't Mrs. Hamilton charge you before she went away to see that the Colonel ate his meals regularly?

[Hamilton, laughing, passes up between Schuyler and table, giving Schuyler an affectionate shake as he passes, then puts away papers.

Zekiel.
Yes, sah, Mis' Betsy she charge me, but 'fo' Gawd, Marse Schuylah, I cain' get him to eat scarcely a mouf'ful.

Schuyler.
So that's the way you look after your master, is it?

Zekiel.
Sometimes, Gen'l, yo' kin tak' an' lead a mule up to de troff—[Hamilton, lying up papers, protests, laughingly] but eff he tak' it into his haid not to drink—wall—yo' cain' do nothin' 'bout it.

Hamilton.
Uncle, you never said a word about drink. You've been warning me to eat all day. [To Schuyler.] What do you think I've been doing, father?

Schuyler.
The Lord knows! Everybody's work, as usual, I suppose.

Hamilton.
I've been building a National Bank.

[Placing hand on large bundle of manuscript.

Schuyler.
Well, you can't do it on an empty stomach.

Hamilton.
Why not? I'm doing it on an empty Treasury.

Schuyler.
[To Zekiel, who is going toward door r.] Uncle Zeke, you go and get up the best supper you know how, and I'll see that the Colonel eats it. And a bottle of wine.

[Zekiel puts cloak and hat down on chair r of bookcase at back wall and brings small table from at wall r and places it c. beside Schuyler.

Hamilton.
[At escritoire up l.] You'll join me in that?

Schuyler.
No, I've got a milk-fed foot.

Hamilton.
[Laughing.] Milk for General Schuyler.

Zekiel.
Yassah.

Hamilton.
[Sitting on edge of table l. of Schuyler.] Well, what news? You saw General Washington?

Schuyler.
He's in the lowest depths of depression, Alexander.

Hamilton.
About the financial conditions.

Schuyler.
He's not as young as you, you know. He was born to fight,—but not to fight politicians.

Hamilton.
Well, I'm going to do the fighting now. [Picks up pens.] Here's a whole new bundle of pens and I'm going to stick a man with every one of them.

Schuyler.
The opposition have half a dozen bundles to your one, and they poison the points.

Hamilton.
That's just it. They use too many pens and so the poison fails to take effect. I've got them sticking all over me, and I can't even feel them.

Schuyler.
But Washington feels them. They're always attacking him. The latest is an accusation that he is drawing more salary than he is entitled to!

Hamilton.
Whose work is that, Tom Paine's?

Schuyler.
No, the clerk of the house. But Tom Paine has written him a letter, too, accusing him of incompetence, calling him "Treacherous in private friendship, a hypocrite in public life."

Hamilton.
Sounds like Tom Paine.

Schuyler.
And heaven knows what besides.

Hamilton.
Ungrateful scoundrels!

Schuyler.
The thing that hits him hardest is their everlasting hooting about the army. George Washington loves his army as he would have loved an only child.

Hamilton.
He has beggared himself in an attempt to meet the country's promise to pay. It's the old story. The greater the achievement of the man, the more violent his detractors. [Enter Zekiel, l., with tray containing chicken, bread and butter, jug of milk, glass, bottle of wine, wine-glass, napkin and white cloth on tray.] Now they are shouting "Dictator" and accusing him of trying to make himself king. And they know it's a lie.

Schuyler.
Of course it's a lie—that's why the politicians glory in it.

Hamilton.
You can't lead the people with a lie. The truth.

[Takes more papers from table and puts them away in escritoire.]

Schuyler.
Uncle Zeke, I hope you hear your master talking about the value of telling the truth. It will do you good.

Zekiel.
[Having placed tray on table c.] 'Fo' Gawd, Marse Gen'l, the only lie I evah tell is to say Marse Ham'ton's out when he's in—an' shorely that's a mighty white lie.

Schuyler.
For a gentleman of your color.

Hamilton.
Well, Zekiel, if any one calls, I'm in for to-night.

Schuyler.
Unless they want money out of the Treasury.

Zekiel.
[Taking chair from l. of bookcase at back and placing it back of table c.] Very well, Marse Hamilton, yo's in fo' to-night. Now yo' eat that thar dinnah, an' I'll bring yo' mo' to follow.

[Exit Zekiel, r., taking Schuyler's hat and cloak.

Schuyler.
Now! What have we here? Chicken.

Hamilton.
[At escritoire.] Ah!

Schuyler.
And bread and butter. Damn it, there's no pie!

Hamilton.
[Coming over.] Good heavens! No pie!

Schuyler.
[Calling.] Zekiel!

Hamilton.
I'll wager he's gone to get the pie.

Schuyler.
Well, it doesn't seem much to go building banks on.

Hamilton.
How can I build banks without pie!

Schuyler.
It's time Betsy came back. Thank God, she will be home next week.

Hamilton.
[Standing back of table c.] Haven't you had a letter by the last packet?

Schuyler.
No. Why, I've been on the road from Albany the last five days. What's wrong?

Hamilton.
[Taking out letter from his breast pocket.] Nothing wrong. But Betsy writes to say that Angelica isn't able to come as soon as they expected. It will be another month before they are here.

Schuyler.
It's a damned shame the way you've been left with no one to look after you. Go on and eat. Betsy had no sort of business to go off and leave you at all. I say it if she is my own daughter.

Hamilton.
Why, you begged and prayed of her to go.

Schuyler.
Well, she ought to be back.

Hamilton.
She's coming back. Heaven knows, I miss Betsy.

Schuyler.
[Fuming.] President Washington leans on you like a child on its mother, and not a soul in this whole town sees to it that you have any—any ——

Hamilton.

Any pie!

Schuyler.
Eat, I say—eat! [Knock.] Now, there's somebody else. Hope that nigger has sense enough to say you're out.

Hamilton.
[Opening napkin.] Come on then, join me. I'm hungry as a hunter. [Passes milk.] There's your milk.

Schuyler.
Milk! Bah!

Zekiel.
[At door r., closing it behind him. Woman seen in hall as he enters.] Here's a poor woman at the door with a baby in her arms. She wants to see you, sah. Is yo' in or is yo' out?

Schuyler.
Out!

Hamilton.
What does she want?

Zekiel.
She says as how she's de wife ob one ob de soldiers.

Hamilton.
[To Schuyler.] You see—she comes to me for money—money out of the Treasury! I'll see her, Uncle. [Schuyler objects, but Zekiel opens door.] Can't send her away, father.

[Drops napkin on tray and rises and goes up toward door r.

Schuyler.

[Mutters.] You can't live without food. What's the use ——

[Enter Woman with baby in her arms. She comes from the hall; the street door is closed. Zekiel half closes the room door and remains in the room holding the doorknob. Woman has a state certificate in her hand.

Hamilton.
What can I do for you?

Woman.
[Coming to r. c.] Are you Colonel Hamilton?

Hamilton.
Yes. [Pulling the chair he was sitting on.] Sit down. [She sits.] What is it?

Woman.
My husband is Zackery Whalen, sir. He fought in the war, sir. He's a cripple and can't work. He fought under you, sir. It was that winter at Valley Forge—his feet froze so many times, sir. He's on a pension, but we can't get the money.

Hamilton.
Can't get it from your state?

Woman.
We sometimes get it, but not lately at all—only promises, sir. You see, ours is due from Rhode Island. If it had been Virginia or New Hampshire, it'd been all right, because they are paying their men, but Rhode Island says they can't.

Hamilton.
What do you wish me to do?

Woman.
I heard General Washington spoke at a meeting of the soldiers last night and he gave his word that every one would be paid. I know he will keep his word, sir, but we can't wait.

Hamilton.
[Kindly.] Why did you come to me?

Woman.
They told me that you were Secretary of the Treasury, where all the money is.

Hamilton.
[Giving another hopeless look at Schuyler, who grunts.] I wish I could make you understand. The Treasury at present is only a name—an empty name. [Takes paper from Woman.] This is Rhode Island's promise to pay. Mrs. Whalen, I am trying to make the country keep this promise; I'm trying to make them pay.

Woman.
How long shall we have to wait, sir?

Hamilton.
I don't know. Here [trying two waistcoat pockets before finding it] take this.

[Gives her a coin and certificate. She wraps coin in certificate and puts it in her breast.

Woman.
Thank you, sir.

[She is going but turns when he speaks.

Hamilton.
[Following her a step or two.] I can only say that I'll do my best to see that you are paid. You're hungry, aren't you?

Woman.
Yes, sir.

Hamilton.
[Takes four corners of napkin and ties chicken inside and hands to her.] Here, take this chicken and have a jolly good supper with your husband. I'm afraid there isn't much for the —— [He leans over and tenderly removes a corner of the shawl from the head of the sleeping baby.] What's the baby's name?

Woman.
Elizabeth, sir.

Hamilton.
[Smiling.] Elizabeth—is it?

Woman.
Yes, sir.

Hamilton.
[Taking jug of milk from Schuyler, who was to pour some out.] The baby's name is Betsy, father. [Gives jug to Woman.] Milk for Elizabeth! [Zekiel and Schuyler very protesting.] Zekiel, show Mrs. Whalen out. Tell your husband I'm fighting for the men who fought for me, and it's a harder struggle than we had at Valley Forge. But that I mean to win, as we won at Yorktown.

[Zekiel opens room-door and also street-door, which he holds open.

Woman.
[Near room-door.] Thank you, sir. I'm sorry to have troubled you, but it's hard on the women. When the war broke out, we had to let our men go and proud we were of 'em—and when my husband came back disabled and useless, everybody took him by the hand and helped him. That was when the war was on. But now it's finished. . . . It's hard we can't get paid. Good-night, sir.

Hamilton.
[Turning to Schuyler with a groan.] The disgrace of it! The men who won our freedom left to starve!

[Moving down stage and to fireplace impatiently.

Schuyler.
If Tom Jefferson and those damned Anti-Federalists would let your Assumption Bill go through, why, the soldiers would be paid.

Hamilton.
[Walking excitedly across to l.] Their opposition to this bill is holding the country in the grip of bankruptcy.

Schuyler.
While Jefferson and Monroe oppose it you'll never get it through.

Hamilton.
[Back of his table, picking up manuscript.] I'll fight for it—I'll fight for it to the end. [Throwing down manuscript and crossing at back to r.] You see, father, Jefferson never smelt the smoke of battle.

Schuyler.
No. He prides himself on being a man of peace. All he and his flock do is to go around shouting "States' Rights."

Hamilton.
Thomas Jefferson and the Rights of Man! He gets his followers to do the shouting while he writes for posterity.

Schuyler.
[Grudgingly.] Yes, he writes well.

Hamilton.
[Standing r. c.] He writes music—the music of well-chosen words.

Schuyler.
And the people listen to him.

Hamilton.
We all listen to Tom Jefferson's music. He's like the Pied Piper. He pipes and he pipes, and the people follow spellbound.

Schuyler.
He can certainly pipe.

Hamilton.
Of course there is always the danger that he will lead them into the sea.

Schuyler.
Well, there's a lot of rats running after him that'd be all the better for drowning.

Hamilton.
There are always rats running up the back-stairs trying to nibble their way into office.

[Enter Zekiel from door up r.; comes down to table c.

Schuyler.
Wouldn't be if the offices were kept clean.

Hamilton.
Only a strong government can keep the offices clean. This policy of every man for himself is leading the country to anarchy.

Zekiel.
[A little alarmed.] Reckon I bettah get yo' some mo' suppah, Cunnel.

[Picks up tray. Note: Betsy's letter is on tray. Be sure to bring it back on tray next time.

Schuyler.
Don't you get me any more of that damned milk.

Zekiel.
Mebbe I'd jes' bettah fetch a little in a feedin' bottle, Gen'l, yah, yah!

[Exit Zekiel l., laughing. Hamilton laughs and sits r. of table c.

Schuyler.
When Zekiel lied to me this morning and said you were out, I went round to the Exchange Coffee House.

Hamilton.
To get a milk punch?

Schuyler.
To look for you! I saw several of the rats there, and I'm convinced they're hatching something for you.

Hamilton.
I always associate hatching with chickens, but I dare say rats do it. Well?

Schuyler.
Be on your guard. Jefferson and Monroe are coming to see you about the location of the Capital.

Hamilton.
[Unconcerned.] Oh, the Residence Bill! [Takes out handkerchief.] Well, what about it?

Schuyler.
[Sitting back; nettled.] What about it!

Hamilton.
I mean where do they want the Capital? In Jefferson's parlor, I suppose.

Schuyler.
That's just where they do want it. They want the Capital of the United States in the South. My God!

Hamilton.
But—excuse me.

Schuyler.
[Fuming.] My God!

Hamilton.
Is that the end of your prayer, or the beginning, father?

Schuyler.
The South!

Hamilton.
Well, why not?

Schuyler.
Do you mean to say you'd let the Capital of the United States go to the South?

Hamilton.
Where do you think it should be?

Schuyler.
Where should it be? Why Albany, of course!

Hamilton.
[Jumping out of his chair and over to r., laughing heartily.] Oh, your home town.

Schuyler.
The finest city on God's earth!

Hamilton.
[Laughs.] In your parlor, I suppose. No, General. Certainly not Albany.

Schuyler.
[Nettled.] Oh, certainly not Albany, eh? And why certainly not Albany? I suppose you want it in New York?

[Zekiel enters l. and crossing at back to door up r. exits.

Hamilton.
New York? Nnn-o ——

Schuyler.
Well, in heaven's name, where do you want it?

Hamilton.
Anywhere that's handy to get at.

Schuyler.
Well, I'll be ——! Haven't you any patriotism, man?

Hamilton.
I don't care where the Capital is, or whether it's built of marble or whether it's made of wood, so long as we get the right men inside—to restore law and order to this limping, half-starved government.

Schuyler.
Alexander ——

Hamilton.
[Puling his chair around to face Schuyler and anticipating amusement.] What are the reasons why the Capital should be in the North?

Schuyler.
Why! All the traditions connected with our struggle for independence cluster about the North.

Hamilton.
[Ticking it off on his fingers.] There's some truth in that.

Schuyler.
It was here in Philadelphia that the Declaration of Independence was signed.

Hamilton.
[Checking on fingers.] So it was.

Schuyler.
It was in New York that Washington took the oath of office. [Hamilton checks.] In New York the government had its beginning. Why, Albany commands the commerce of the four corners of the earth.

Hamilton.
[Checking.] Hummm!

Schuyler.
And—and there's not a damned bit of reason why the South should have it anyway.

Hamilton.
But if the North has all the glory of the traditions of the past, isn't it a good reason why the South should be glorified with the hopes of the future?

Schuyler.
No! . . .

Hamilton.

Hasn't the South, at any rate, as much claim as the North?

Schuyler.
No! . . .

Hamilton.
General, your argument is ——

Zekiel.
Secatary Jeff'son and Sentah Monroe callin' to see yo', sir. Reckon you's out?

Hamilton.
I reckon I'm in, Zekiel.

Schuyler.
[Rising.] Now, here they come to talk to you about the Capital, and you're going to concede it without a struggle.

Hamilton.
[Coming to him.] Father, you're the best friend I have in the world, but I daren't trust you in a matter of diplomacy. That's no reflection on your intelligence because, you know, diplomacy is frequently only one-eighth brain [tapping him on the forehead] and seven-eighths the way you use it. I'm going to send you out onto that balcony to cool down.

Zekiel.
I jes' got some mo' suppah ready to brung up.

Schuyler.
[Getting above centre table.] Well, bring it in, Zekiel, and the country be hanged.

Hamilton.
[Coming down r. of Schuyler and taking his arm.] Father, I wonder if they feel as strongly as you do about the location of the Capital.

Schuyler.
[Raising his hand to strike the small table and breaking out.] Why, any man with an ounce of ——

Hamilton.
Out in the cool air, father. [Pushes him on to the balcony.] Oh, General, I've noticed that there sometimes comes a moment in diplomatic conferences when a little diversion is most valuable. Should I call for you, come in [Schuyler grunts]—and look pleasant. I'll see them, Zekiel. [Zekiel exits r. Hamilton goes to his table and picking up manuscript of his bill returns to window and calls.] Father, if I could only get hold of Jefferson and Monroe!

Schuyler.
To back your Assumption Bill?

Hamilton.
Yes.

Schuyler.
If you could only get hold of the moon!

[He goes out, closing the windows. Hamilton, with sudden resolution, comes down left of his table and is facing r. when Zekiel brings in Monroe and Jefferson. They bow to each other. Zekiel crosses at back to l.

Zekiel.
Sect'y Jeff'son and Sentah Monroe.

Hamilton.
[Bowing to them.] Mr. Jefferson. Senator Monroe.

Monroe.
[l. of Jefferson.] Howdo, Hamilton.

Jefferson.
[Advancing to c.] Citizen Secretary, I trust we do not call at an inconvenient or unseasonable hour.

Hamilton.
Your time, gentlemen, could not have been better chosen. Zekiel, a bottle of wine.

Zekiel.
A bottle of wine and a sangwidge. Yes, sah.

Jefferson.
Mrs. Hamilton is not back yet?

Hamilton.
[Getting behind chair r. of large table and indicating it to Jefferson.] No, my wife will not return, I fear, for a month or more. Will you take this chair, Mr. Jefferson? [Jefferson sits r. of table.] Will you take this one, Senator? [Monroe crosses and sits in large armchair.] That is the chair General Washington always sits in when he is here. [Monroe rises uncomfortably then sits again.] I'lll sit here at my desk, if you don't mind.

Jefferson.
You are still working even at this late hour, Citizen Hamilton?

Hamilton.
Oh, no. This is my recreation.

Monroe.
And what is your recreation?

Hamilton.
The establishment of a National Bank.

Monroe.
It's not constitutional.

Hamilton.
It will be necessary for the full development of my Bill for the Government Assumption of States' Debts.

[Monroe and Jefferson cough uncomfortably. Jefferson is bland.

Jefferson.
A very charming room you have here.

Hamilton.
Very charming.

Monroe.
Devilish hot, though.

Hamilton.
Allow me to open this window. [Going to balcony window.] I should mention that General Schuyler is on the balcony, if our business is private.

Jefferson.
No, no, not in the least. Pray consider our visit as quite informal.

Monroe.
We came to have a little friendly chat with you.

Hamilton.
[Returning to table.] Gentlemen, I am indeed relieved to find that you have come in this friendly spirit. It gives me courage to approach you in a perfectly friendly way on a very urgent matter.

Jefferson.
I trust it may be within our power to be of use to you.

Monroe.
Without sacrificing the principles for which we stand.

Jefferson.
Of course.

Hamilton.
[Sitting back of table.] President Washington is deeply concerned at the country's neglect to pay its debts—the debts incurred during the war.

Monroe.
You mean the neglect of certain states to pay their debts?

Hamilton.
I mean the neglect of the nation.

Monroe.
Virginia has paid every cent she owes.

Hamilton.
That saves the honor of Virginia, but not the honor of the nation. Gentlemen, my Bill provides that these debts shall be assumed by the central government. Why do you continue to oppose it? All I need is the support of Thomas Jefferson and James Monroe.

Jefferson.
What you suggest would be making Virginia help to pay the debt of South Carolina.

Monroe.
And South Carolina has three times the debt of Virginia.

Hamilton.
[To Monroe.] Incurred in gaining Virginia her freedom. Gentlemen, if the interests of the thirteen states continue to clash, there is no hope of established independence. I appeal to you both, as patriots, not to squander the time of the country by the discussion of party interests. We are builders of a nation; let us build strongly, let us build on the foundation stone of honor. The nations of the world are watching us. Let them sneer at our youth, let them sneer at our poverty, but let them never cast a slur upon our honesty.

Jefferson.
You plead merely for the honor of the nation: I plead also for the rights of the individual.

Monroe.
Do you realize that the rights of the people are at stake?

Hamilton.
[To Monroe.] The right of the people is the right to cast aside personal interests for the greater good of the nation. The only safety for any people is in a government that can command the respect of the world.

Monroe.
[Angrily.] You mean a Monarchy?

Hamilton.
I mean a Republic.

Monroe.
[Rising, coming to l. corner of table and pounding it.] George Washington is trying to set up a Monarchy and make himself King.

[Returning to Washington's chair. He gives it a vicious push with his knee and crosses to r.

Hamilton.
[Rising and crossing to r. with Monroe.] Take this chair. I think you'll be more comfortable.

[Gives Monroe another chair from back of sofa. It is a hard uncomfortable looking little chair. He places it in front of sofa.

Monroe.
[Ignoring the chair.] Suppose the government should pay the states' debts, the men who lent the money wouldn't get it. [Hamilton about to interrupt.] You know as well as I do that the patriots who put up the money to carry on the war have long ago given up all hope of ever being paid by the bankrupt states.

Hamilton.
That is exactly ——

Monroe.
Their claims have passed into other hands, sold for a song.

Hamilton.
[c.] But the claims remain—and a promise to pay is a promise to pay.

Jefferson.
[Rising and with firmness.] Citizen Hamilton, I am pledged to the people.

Monroe.
We cannot pick the pockets of the man who trusts us in order to pay another man's debts.

Hamilton.
Gentlemen, this is repudiation—the last stage of national humiliation.

Jefferson.
I have tried to see your point of view. Citizen Monroe has tried to see it.

Monroe.
Yes, I've tried.

Jefferson.
You have appealed to Congress many times, and have always been defeated.

Hamilton.
The last time by a majority of two.

Jefferson.
The majority was small, it is true—[with a touch of courtliness] mainly owing, I fear, to the eloquence of your address, Citizen Hamilton.

Hamilton.
[Responding with a profound bow.] From Thomas Jefferson that is indeed praise. But I fear my eloquence has interfered with our friendly chat, and that was really what you came for.

Jefferson.
Some other time ——

Monroe.
Well, Jefferson, time is short ——

Jefferson.
This discussion having arisen, I find myself diffident in seeking your cooperation on another matter.

Hamilton.
Gentlemen, I beg that you will not deprive me of so great a privilege—pray sit down again. [They sit.] You are sure you are comfortable in that chair, Mr. Monroe?

Monroe.
[Seated in front of sofa.] Yes, thank you. I was never made to occupy a throne.

Hamilton.
[About to respond but controls himself and sitting in chair r. of small table c.] Gentlemen, I am at your service.

Jefferson.
[Seated again in chair between tables.] You know that the Residence Bill must be voted on without further delay.

Hamilton.
I understand that immediate decision is necessary.

Jefferson.
I will not disguise from you that I consider the geographical position of the Capital a very vital matter.

[Schuyler appears on balcony at back, coming from l. He stops a moment at the open window, catches what they are talking about, nods his head and disappears to r.

Hamilton.
Undoubtedly.

Jefferson.
And we do not underrate your influence, not only with the President but with Congress, in arriving at a decision.

Hamilton.
That decision, gentlemen, is a very grave and serious matter.

Monroe.
It certainly is.

Hamilton.
But I think we ought to find no difficulty in reaching an agreement.

Monroe.
Now, that's talking sense.

[Schuyler returns and lingers in front of open window with his ear obviously turned to catch the conversation. He is not seen by the others.

Jefferson.
I am pleased to find that you are willing to meet us in the matter.

Hamilton.
We should have no difficulty, because, to me—and surely to all who have gone into the matter as deeply and seriously as we have—there can be only one possible location for the Capital.

Monroe.
And that is?

Hamilton.
Albany. [A distinct ejaculation is heard from Schuyler outside. He disappears to l.] Excuse me. I thought I heard my father-in-law calling.

Jefferson.
Albany!

Monroe.
That old Dutch town!

Jefferson.
And why Albany?

Hamilton.
[Returning to c. behind small table.] Because [oratorically; imitating Schuyler] it commands the commerce of the four corners of the earth.

[Schuyler is seen moving outside. He opens the other window, the one nearest the l., and is radiant.

Jefferson.
But I fear you do not consider ——

Hamilton.
I know much may be said in favor of New York and Philadelphia—but ——

Monroe.
You talk as if Albany, New York, and Philadelphia were the only places in the Union, sir.

Hamilton.
[Surprised.] Had you any other place in mind?

Monroe.
Hasn't the South as much claim as the North?

Hamilton.
Certainly not, sir. The South could not possibly be considered.

Jefferson.
Why not, sir?

Monroe.
What's your reason for the North, except you're a Northerner yourself?

Hamilton.
[Oratorically.] Why, gentlemen [pulls chair r. of small table to back of small table and comes to r. of small table], all the great events connected with our glorious struggle for independence cluster about the North.[Schuyler's face expresses amazement and delight. Hamilton lightly touches his fingers, as he enumerates the following.] It was here in this city—in Philadelphia—that was signed that immortal document from your hand, Mr. Jefferson—the Declaration of Independence.

Monroe.
What's that got to do with it?

Hamilton.
It was in New York that Washington took his oath of office.[Schuyler gives great signs of approval.] It was there that the government had its beginning, and—and—there's not a—there's no reason on earth why the South should have it anyway.

[All this spoken with great conviction. Schuyler, in great delight, exits to r., remaining between windows.

Monroe.
[Rising and going r.] The South will make a damned good fight for it.

Jefferson.
[Rising.] Is that your final word, Mr. Hamilton?

Hamilton.
My decision in this matter, Mr. Jefferson, is just as irrevocable as that of yours and Senator Monroe regarding my bill. [Monroe and Jefferson exchange a glance which Hamilton observes.] You'll excuse me. I'm sure I heard the General calling. [Going to window c.] I'm afraid of the night air for your gout, father-in-law. You'd better be getting home.

[Enter Schuyler. Jefferson moves away toward l., thinking.

Schuyler.
Good-evening, gentlemen.

[With a profound bow and greatly pleased.

Jefferson.
Good-evening, Citizen Schuyler.

Monroe.
Good-evening.

Schuyler.
[Passing across toward door up r.] I won't interrupt you. I'll just toddle along.

Hamilton.
[Following and laughing.] Toddle? With that foot?

Schuyler.
[Throwing open the door up r.] The foot's better, Alexander. Good-night, gentlemen.

Hamilton.
Excuse me while I see the General to the door.

[They go off up r. Hamilton closes the door after him.

Jefferson.
[Coming toward c.] What do you make of that last remark of his—as irrevocable as our decision regarding his bill?

Monroe.
[r. c.] Sounds like an invitation to strike a bargain.

Jefferson.
Is it worth it?

Monroe.
We can't do without him, damn him.

Jefferson.
Shall we support his bill in return for the Capital?

Monroe.
It's worth anything to get the Capital away from the North.

Jefferson.
It will be hard to explain this change of front to the people. I've said so much about State Rights.

Monroe.
You can make some excuse.

Jefferson.
It will be difficult to explain away.

Monroe.
[Chuckling and coming to c.] Tom Jefferson, you can explain away anything. Give you pen and ink and there isn't your equal for that in the universe. Besides, we may not have to give up a thing.

Jefferson.
What do you mean?

Monroe.
Well, Giles of Virginia has some scheme on. He said if Hamilton got us into a corner ——

Jefferson.
Monroe, Giles is a rascal, and I'll not be identified with any of his underhand schemes.

Monroe.
Neither will I. I'll just leave him alone and trust in Providence.

[Reënter Hamilton door up r. at back. Monroe crosses Jefferson to l.

Hamilton.
[Coming down r. of table c.] Forgive me for leaving you, although I'm afraid, gentlemen, our interview is at an end.

Jefferson.
[Advancing a little to Hamilton.] Citizen Hamilton, I have been credited with being a diplomatist.

Hamilton.
Your valued service, as Minister to France, places that beyond dispute, sir.

Jefferson.
And I find that, in settling arguments of all kinds, it is necessary to give and take.

Hamilton.
The best diplomatist, I presume, being the man who gives the least and takes the most.

Jefferson.
In this instance, Citizen Monroe and myself are prepared to give a great deal, in order that the Southern States shall not be overlooked.

Monroe.
Treated with contempt.

Jefferson.
With regard to the Capital, I have a proposal to make. [Hamilton nods his head attentively and comes down in front of sofa and turns to them.] As we cannot agree upon the selection of a city, why not build us a new city—clean and new and full of the ideals of Liberty and Fraternity! Why choose a city like Albany or New York, marred with the scars of the British tyrant—bristling with the memories of our servitude?

Hamilton.
Certainly an original idea. A new city. On the Hudson!

Monroe.
[Quickly and emphatically.] No, not on the Hudson.

Jefferson.
On the Potomac—half-way between the North and the South!

Hamilton.
I regret to have to refuse you, Mr. Jefferson, but as I said my decision is irrevocable.

[Going up stage between end of sofa and table c.

Jefferson.
I think you said as irrevocable as our decision regarding your bill.

Hamilton.
[Turning and apparently trying to recall it.] Did I? I think I did.

Jefferson.
Suppose we—make—a—concession.

Hamilton.
[Coming back to Jefferson.] Strike a bargain, do you mean?

Jefferson.
Well, I wouldn't care to use that word, Mr. Hamilton.

Hamilton.
No? We won't use it, then. We'll call it concession.

Jefferson.
Suppose we pass your Bill in return for the Capital?

Hamilton.
[With an assumption of astonishment.] Why, gentlemen, this is a surprising proposal. I fear I must have time to think it over.

Monroe.

[Beside Jefferson.] You're a quick thinker when you like, Hamilton.

Hamilton.
Yes, when I like the proposal. But I am afraid I am getting the worst of the bargain—[Jefferson gives slight movement] er—concession.

Jefferson.
We're offering you something you've been fighting for for years.

Hamilton.
You will admit that yours would be the spectacular victory. The Capital wrested from the North!

Jefferson.
I do not care for popularity. I am thinking only of what is best for the greatest number.

Hamilton.
You need my answer now? Can you not give me a week to think it over?

Monroe.
A week! Good Lord, Hamilton.

Hamilton.
Three days!

Monroe.
This must be decided now.

Hamilton.
[Rising.] Very well, gentlemen. I agree.

Monroe.
[With alacrity.] Shall we put it in writing?

Jefferson.
I think our oral pledge will be sufficient.

Hamilton.
Your word is your bond. In fact I would rather take your word, gentlemen, than the bond of any state in the Union.

[He bows to them; they laugh. Monroe comes over eagerly and extends his hand.

Monroe.
That's a bargain then.

[Enter Zekiel, l., with tray containing chicken, decanter of wine and three wineglasses. Knock is heard off r. He puts tray on table c. and exits up r., leaving door r. open. Note: Be sure that Betsy's letter is on tray. The dialogue is not interrupted by Zekiel's entrance.

Jefferson.
[Between them and smiling.] Really, I cannot permit ——

Hamilton.
Let us say, a final settlement of our difference of opinion. May I offer you some refreshment?

Jefferson.
Thank you, no. Citizen Monroe will agree that we have already detained you too long.

[Passing up r. of c. table toward door r. Hamilton is preceding Jefferson when Zekiel throws open the street door up r. and announces

Zekiel.
Coun' Tallyrand!

Tallyrand.
[Shaking hands with Hamilton and then retiring a little on the right up stage near door.] My dear Hamilton—oh, a thousand pardons. I see you have the Citizens with you. I intrude.

Jefferson.
We were about to take our leave. [Shaking hands with Hamilton.] Good-night, Citizen Hamilton. [Passing to door.] We have already made our adieux to ——

Tallyrand.
[Politely.] Citizen Tallyrand.

[Jefferson exits to street door which Zekiel is holding open. Zekiel hands him his hat. Tallyrand comes down between sofa and table c., dropping his hat and gloves on sofa; he then moves across to in front of sofa.

Monroe.
[Shaking hands with Hamilton.] Good-night, Hamilton.[Goes to room door and turns.] That was a damned good proposition of yours.

Hamilton.
[At room door l. of Monroe.] Oh, pardon me, gentlemen. The proposition came from you.

Monroe.
[Coughing uncomfortably.] Er—yes ——

[Takes stick and hat from Zekiel. Exit Monroe and Jefferson through street-door up r.

Hamilton.
[Slamming room door and coming down excitedly, placing his hands on Tallyrand's shoulders.] Tallyrand, I needed some one to drink a toast with me. Here's to the government that's going to pay its debts.

Tallyrand.
I drink to that because I like to drink, but drinking will not make your government pay.

Hamilton.
[Pouring out two glasses.] It's going to pay! It's going to pay!

Tallyrand.
Who is going to make it?

Hamilton.
[Pointing.] Jefferson and Monroe.

Tallyrand.
[Astounded.] You have reformed them?

Hamilton.
I have—and never struck a blow.

Tallyrand.
[Taking up glass.] I drink, then, to Alexander Hamilton—the greatest of them all!

Hamilton.
[Taking up glass.] That gives you an unfair advantage with the wine. If you will substitute the name of George Washington, I will drink with you.

Tallyrand.
[Shrugs shoulders.] George Washington—yes.

Hamilton.
[c., holding up glass.] To George Washington, the first American!

Tallyrand.
[r. of Hamilton.] Well, I will drink anyhow.

Hamilton.
[Good-humored.] You never did appreciate the greatness of my General.

Tallyrand.
Oh, yes, he has a great big nose.

Hamilton.
And a great big heart and a great big soul.

Tallyrand.
But the brain, it is yours. [Hamilton about to interrupt.] Don't let's quarrel over your General. I come to say good-bye.

Hamilton.
You leave by to-night's boat?

Tallyrand.
Yes, or rather it sails in the early hours of the morning.

Hamilton.
Then you have plenty of time. [Taking chair from in front of sofa and sitting r. of c. table.] Sit down and have supper with me.

Tallyrand.
[Moving away to l.] Oh, no—you Americans take too much food. When you are not doing something else, you are always sitting down to supper.

Hamilton.
Well, be a good American and sit down then.

Tallyrand.
[Extending hand.] No, no, I come to give you one last embrace. I am in haste. I must leave you. Adieu.

Hamilton.
[Still seated.] Why not stop and gossip? I've finished my work for to-night.

Tallyrand.
To be frank with you, I have to make my adieux to some—er—ladies.

Hamilton.
[Rising.] Oh!

Tallyrand.
Ah, your American girls! I find them almost more irresistible than the French.

[Enter Zekiel up r. with bottle of wine and two wine-glasses on tray; puts them on c. table.

Hamilton.
[Laughing.] And they're not so far away—eh?

Tallyrand.
[l. c.] Hamilton, you have finished your work for to-night. Why not come with me? If one is working all the day is it not right that one should play at night? [Coming over to Hamilton.] A little spree, eh?

Hamilton.
[Smiling.] Why—what do you call a little spree?

[Zekiel is back of small table and can be seen smiling approvingly.

Tallyrand.
[Shrugs.] Oh-h—a—leetle spree. You are so good, Hamilton, and I love you for it, but I see the boy leap into your eyes when I say little spree.

[He puts hands on Hamilton's shoulders. Exit Zekiel up r. at back.

Hamilton.
[Laughing and moving away to r.] Do you? By Jove, I believe I deserve it!

Tallyrand.
We are all of us human—except General Washington.

Hamilton.
[Protesting.] Tallyrand!

Tallyrand.
A little spree will do you good.

[Going quickly back of sofa and getting hat and gloves.

Hamilton.
[Crossing to table c. and picks up Betsy's letter.] No, I think not. I think I'll stay at home.

Tallyrand.
Oh, yes, I know—Mrs. Hamilton is charming—Je l'adore, but she is away—she is away so long.

Hamilton.
[Coming to Tallyrand and pulling himself together.] No, no, no.

Tallyrand.
I cannot tempt you?

Hamilton.
I'm afraid you might. That's why I say goodbye. [Takes hand.] Sail home as fast as a fair wind will carry you. Your genius is universal, but your morals are indigenous to Paris. Godspeed!

[They go up. Hamilton opens room door. Zekiel opens street door.

Tallyrand.
[Turning at room door. Hamilton is on his left.] Au 'voir, dear friend. When I am in France and I think of America one big figure will come before my eyes—Alexander Hamilton! The man who makes the fortune of a nation in order to get a living for his family. Au revoir.

Hamilton.
[Waving to him.] Au revoir. Bon voyage. [Comes into the room.] Bolt the door, Zekiel; we've had enough for to-night. [Zekiel bolts and chains street door, then enters room, closing room door. Hamilton walks to his table and picks up Bill.] Victory! Well, now, we'll go to bed, Uncle.

[Sitting at table l. and putting away papers.

Zekiel.
[At room door.] Fo' de Lawd's sake, Marse Cunnel, ain' yo' goin' to eat no suppah?

Hamilton.
[Remembering. Shuts drawer and comes to behind table c.] Supper? Yes.

Zekiel.
[Coming down to r. corner of table c.] That's 'bout the fourth suppah I brought in this night, and yo' ain' goin' t' eat it.

Hamilton.
I'm going to eat all that supper, and I'm going to finish this bottle of wine.

Zekiel.
Don' yo' drink it on an empty stomach; it'll go straight to yo' haid. An' dere's noder bottle ain' been touched, an' de corkscrew a-lyin' close 'longside.

Hamilton.
Zekiel, there's a conspiracy amongst you to lead me into temptation. [Goes up to escritoire in l. corner, sits, and is putting away papers.] You go to bed.

Zekiel.
Yes, Marse Hamilton. Yessah.

[Goes to bookcase c. at back and picking up an extinguisher begins to put out the four lighted candles; lights go down. Zekiel giggles audibly two or three times.

Hamilton.
What is it, Zekiel? What's the matter?

Zekiel.
[Giggling.] 'Scuse me, Marse Hamilton, but I jes' couldn't help heah what Cunnel Coun' Tally ran' say to yo' 'bout goin' on a little spree.

Hamilton.
Ah, you mustn't be shocked, Uncle. He didn't mean it.

[Coming down to table l., sitting and putting papers away in drawers.

Zekiel.
Law, no, I ain' shocked! I think him right, Mars' Ham'ton, quite right.

Hamilton.
What?

Zekiel.
[Working to door up r. at back.] Yo'-all been stickin' too close to wo'k. Leetle spree do yo' sight ob good.

Hamilton.
Uncle!

Zekiel.
If I been a-wo'kin' night an' day, same's yo' been a-doin', reckon I'd lak a leetle spree myself.

Hamilton.
Why, you black rascal, at your age!

Zekiel.
Well, sah, dat am de on'y thing 'at 'ud pavent it, Marse Cunnel.

Hamilton.
[Laughing and going quickly toward door r.; shouts.] Get off to bed!

[Zekiel exits r. laughing; closes door. Hamilton laughs, walks over to table c., sits, looks at food, feels loneliness, feels heat—rises—opens window l. onto balcony. Takes out handkerchief and wipes brow. Returning to c. table he chuckles at Bill on table l. as he passes. Sits down behind c. table and is pouring out a glass of wine when there is faint knocking at outer door, which he hardly hears and attaches no importance to. He is about to drink the wine when the knocking repeated louder. He puts down the glass and opens room-door and listens. It comes again. He goes out and unbolts street-door and opens it.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Outside.] Is this Alexander Hamilton's house?

Hamilton.
Yes, this is Mr. Hamilton's house.

Mrs. Reynolds.
Is he at home?

Hamilton.
Yes, he is at home. What do you want?

Mrs. Reynolds.
I want to see him.

Hamilton.
Won't it do to-morrow?

Mrs. Reynolds.
Oh, no. I must see him to-night.

Hamilton.
Come in.

[Enter Mrs. Reynolds. He closes street door but not room door. Mrs. Reynolds wears a short, white muslin dress, filmy and simple. It is short-waisted, and cut low. Over this a straight, blue cape, with a little hood on back. Her hair is in ringlets. Her slippers are black, with white stockings and with black ribbons crossed over ankle. She comes to c. above table, taking in the room with a glance. Hamilton follows and is on her r.

Mrs. Reynolds.
May I see him?

Hamilton.
I am Mr. Hamilton.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Wide-eyed.] Oh-h—are you Alexander Hamilton? I thought he was quite old. Why, you're young, aren't you?

Hamilton.
[Smiling.] Not very young.

Mrs. Reynolds.
Why, you are. You look quite boyish. It's very late, isn't it?

Hamilton.
It is rather late for business hours.

Mrs. Reynolds.
Were you just going to bed?

Hamilton.
I think I was.

Mrs. Reynolds.
Oh, then I ought not to have disturbed you. When I got to your door I thought perhaps it might be too late. That's why I knocked with my knuckles instead of with the knocker.

[Looking at her fingers and half holding them out but withdrawing them when he shows no particular interest.

Hamilton.
Yes, I wondered why you did that.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Smiling sweetly.] Yes, it hurt them too. It was mighty nice of you to let me in.

Hamilton.
[Smiling.] What do you want?

Mrs. Reynolds.
I hardly like to tell you.

Hamilton.
[A little nonplussed.] What's your name?

Mrs. Reynolds.
Reynolds—my name is.

Hamilton.
Reynolds?

Mrs. Reynolds.
Yes. I'm related to the Livingstons of New York State.

Hamilton.
[Warmly.] Oh!

Mrs. Reynolds.
Yes. I've so often heard of you from the Livingstons.

Hamilton.
[Shaking hands with her.] Yes, the Livingstons are very old friends of mine. Won't you sit down? [Indicates chair r. of c. table; she sits demurely but with a "so far so good" look in her eye. He seats himsself on the end of the sofa facing her.] Well now, what can I do for you?

Mrs. Reynolds.
I want money.

Hamilton.
[Astonished.] Money? But—why did you come to me?

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Innocently.] Why, I'm an American. I'm in need of money. I thought it the place of the Secretary of the Treasury of my own country to help me.

Hamilton.
[Turning away for a moment amused.] But, my child, I have no money. Why don't you go to Robert Livingston? He's in Philadelphia now.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[With a quick look away.] Oh, is he? But my people are the Henry Livingstons.

Hamilton.
Oh!

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Quickly.] My father was in the Commissary Department during the war.

Hamilton.
Was he?

Mrs. Reynolds.
Yes. Mr. Lewis, his name was.

Hamilton.
[Interestedly.] Well, now, what do you want this money for?

Mrs. Reynolds.
[With a faltering voice.] I want to run away.

Hamilton.
To run away! From whom?

Mrs. Reynolds.
My husband.

Hamilton.
Your husband? Why, you're a child!

Mrs. Reynolds.
I'm twenty-six. I don't look it, do I? Oh, he's been nothing to me for a long time, but to-night he came to my lodgings where I've been living and he struck me, here. [Touching her breast.] So I thought you could give me the money that tomorrow I'd go to New York.

Hamilton.
And to-night?

Mrs. Reynolds.
Oh, I can go back to my lodgings. [With a Madonna-like simplicity.] He won't come there again to-night.

Hamilton.
[Leaning forward.] What did you say your name was?

Mrs. Reynolds.
Mrs. Reynolds—Maria is my first name. At home I was always called Joy.

Hamilton.
Joy!

Mrs. Reynolds.
Yes, Joy, but I haven't had much joy since I married. [Breaking down.] Oh, but I want it! I want joy and happiness.

Hamilton.
[After a pause. Rising and moving to r. and not quite knowing what to say to her; she glances at him quickly as he does so.] Things will look brighter to-morrow.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Despondently.] No, I've waited for years for things to be brighter to-morrow.

Hamilton.
[Sympathetically.] I fear you are very tired.

Mrs. Reynolds.
I am. [With a side glance at the things on the table.] I've had nothing since morning.

Hamilton.
Haven't you? [Suddenly remembering.] Why, neither have I!

Mrs. Reynolds.
Nothing to eat since morning! [Rising.] You poor boy! [Putting her arms on his and then going quickly to back of c. table.] Why, you've got all sorts of things here—and wine.

Hamilton.
Will you have a glass of wine?

Mrs. Reynolds.
[l. of table and above it.] Oh, yes, I love wine! [He gives it to her laughing. She drinks.] Oh, I don't think I should have had it—I've had nothing to eat.

Hamilton.
In that case, I believe it goes straight to the head.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Putting down glass.] Aren't you going to have one?

Hamilton.
Yes, I'm going to have one. Here's wishing that joy may come back into your life.

[Drinks the glass he had already filled when the knock came.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Watches him and comes down a little in front of table.] Do you know what it is to be lonely?

Hamilton.
[At r. corner of table.] I do. I've been very lonely sometimes.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Going to him.] I believe you're lonely now.

Hamilton.
I believe I am.

Mrs. Reynolds.
Two lonely people, alone! Have you nobody here to talk to?

Hamilton.
Nobody—but you. [Recovering.] And that is why I am going to send you away. But first, you must have some food.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Gently.] Oh, no—not if you're afraid of my staying. I see you think it isn't right.

Hamilton.
I think it's better not. But you must have some food.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Passing her hand over her brow.] No, no, thank you. I will go.

Hamilton.
[Coming down a step.] But I can't let you go like this.

Mrs. Reynolds.
No, I see I was wrong. I had no right to ask you for money.

Hamilton.
But I don't like to ——

Mrs. Reynolds.
No, thank you, I'll go—I ——

Hamilton.
[Catching her.] What's the matter?

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Recovering; dazed.] I don't know what's come over me. I feel so hot and funny.

Hamilton.
Well —— [Looks for a place to seat her.] Sit here.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Looking up at him.] It must have been the wine.

Hamilton.
[Having one knee on sofa, steps over sofa and comes behind her; arranges pillows at head of ditto.] Rest here a moment.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Reclining and feeling her face.] Feel my face how it's burning.

[Takes his left hand and puts it on her left cheek, using her right hand to do so.

Hamilton.
I'll get you some water.

[As he goes, she watches him and takes cloak from her shoulders with a quick movement, which shows the audience she is acting. He goes to l. u. end of table left and fills a glass of water from a decanter and brings it over to her. She looks up at him very appealingly and then slowly takes the glass in her right hand and sips.

Mrs. Reynolds.
It's wonderful to be with some one who is kind to me.

[Passing the glass into her left hand and giving to him; he takes it in his right hand.

Hamilton.
Are you feeling better?

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Subtly getting her fingers into his right hand; he takes the glass in his left.] Yes, yes. Let me stay—just a moment. [She holds his hand very unconsciously and rests a moment with eyes closed.] Now I'll go.

Hamilton.
[Bending low over her, recovers himself with an effort.] I'll call my old negro servant. He shall take you home.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Rising quickly, and gathering cloak around her.] Oh, no, no! What would he think? No, I'll go, thank you.

Hamilton.
But I can't let you —— [Mrs. Reynolds slightly reels.] I'll see you to your door.

[Takes his hat and cloak from corner of bookcase up c. at back; puts cloak on.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[With a triumphant gleam in her eyes.] Will you? Oh, but, Mr. Hamilton, I couldn't dream of taking you out at this hour. It's so late.

Hamilton.
[Coming down to her.] That's why I can't let you go alone. [Feels her thin cloak.] But I'm afraid you'll be chilly in the night air. [Putting his hat on and taking a second cloak from chair r. of bookcase c. at back.] Here, put this around you.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Cuddling into it, they bump slightly and both laugh.] Is it one of yours?

Hamilton.
Yes. [Laughing.] And very big for you.

Mrs. Reynolds.
It's very cozy.

Hamilton.
Now.

Mrs. Reynolds.
[Brightly.] May take your arm?

Hamilton.
Why, you're feeling much better.

Mrs. Reynolds.
Oh, yes!

Hamilton.
I think you had better have another glass of wine?

Mrs. Reynolds.
Oh, no, thank you; just take me home. Isn't it wonderful to be taken home by Alexander Hamilton?

[They go toward street door up r. Hamilton is seen arranging the cloak at her head and opening the street-door; they exit laughing as

THE CURTAIN FALLS