One-Act Plays Part 30

"Without feet on the fender Love is but slender."

MANUFACTURER. Quite right. It is the whole secret of the domestic fireside. Pierrette, you have been crying.

PIERRETTE. I believe I have.

MANUFACTURER. Bless you, I know all about it. It's Pierrot. And so you're in love with him, and he doesn't care a little bit about you, eh? What a strange old world it is! And you cry your eyes out over him.

PIERRETTE. Oh, no, I don't often cry. But to-night he seemed more grumpy than usual, and I tried so hard to cheer him up.

MANUFACTURER. Grumpy, is he?

PIERRETTE. He doesn't mean it, though. It's the cold weather, and the show hasn't been paying so well lately. Pierrot wants to write an article about us for the local paper by way of an advertis.e.m.e.nt. He thinks the editor may print it if he gives him free pa.s.ses for his family.

MANUFACTURER. Do you think Pierrot is worth your tears?

PIERRETTE. Oh, yes!

MANUFACTURER. You know, tears are not to be wasted. We only have a certain amount of them given to us just for keeping the heart moist.

And when we've used them all up and haven't any more, the heart dries up, too.

PIERRETTE. Pierrot is a splendid fellow. You don't know him as well as I do. It's true he's always discontented, but it's only because he's not in love with anyone. You know, love does make a tremendous difference in a man.

MANUFACTURER. That's true enough. And has it made a difference in you?

PIERRETTE. Oh, yes! I put Pierrot's slippers down to warm, and I make tea for him, and all the time I'm happy because I'm doing something for him. If I weren't in love, I should find it a drudgery.

MANUFACTURER. Are you sure it's real love?

PIERRETTE. Why, yes!

MANUFACTURER. Every time you think of Pierrot, do you hear the patter of little bare feet? And every time he speaks, do you feel little chubby hands on your breast and face?

PIERRETTE [_fervently_]. Yes! Oh, yes! That's just it!

MANUFACTURER. You've got it right enough. But why is it that Pierrot can wake up all this poetry in you?

PIERRETTE. Because--oh, because he's just Pierrot.

MANUFACTURER. "Because he's just Pierrot." The same old reason.

PIERRETTE. Of course, he is a bit dreamy. But that's his soul. I am sure he could do great things if he tried. And have you noticed his smile? Isn't it lovely! Sometimes, when he's not looking, I want ever so much to try it on, just to see how I should look in it.

[_Pensively._] But I wish he'd smile at me a little more often, instead of at others.

MANUFACTURER. Ho! So he smiles at others, does he?

PIERRETTE. Hardly a day goes by but there's some fine lady at the show. There was one there to-day, a tall girl with red cheeks. He is gone to look for her now. And it is not their faults. The poor things can't help being in love with him. [_Proudly._] I believe everyone is in love with Pierrot.

MANUFACTURER. But supposing one of these fine ladies were to marry him?

PIERRETTE. Oh, they'd never do that. A fine lady would never marry a poor singer. If Pierrot were to get married, I think I should just ...

fade away.... Oh, but I don't know why I talk to you like this. I feel as if I had known you for a long, long time. [_THE MANUFACTURER rises from the settle and moves across to PIERRETTE, who is now folding up the white table-cloth._]

MANUFACTURER [_very slowly_]. Perhaps you _have_ known me for a long, long time. [_His tone is so kindly and impressive that PIERRETTE forgets the table-cloth and looks up at him. For a moment or two he smiles back at her as she gazes, spellbound; then he turns away to the fire again, with the little chuckle that is never far from his lips._]

PIERRETTE [_taking a small bow from his side-pocket_]. Oh, look at this.

MANUFACTURER [_in mock alarm_]. Oh, oh, I didn't mean you to see that.

I'd forgotten it was sticking out of my pocket. I used to do a lot of archery at one time. I don't get much chance now. [_He takes it and puts it back in his pocket._]

PIERROT [_singing in the distance_].

"Baby, don't wait for the moon, She is drawing the sea in her net; And mellow and musical June Is teaching the rose to forget."

MANUFACTURER [_in a whisper as the voice draws nearer_]. Who is that?

PIERRETTE. Pierrot. [_Again the conical white hat flashes past the window and PIERROT enters._]

PIERROT. I can't find her anywhere. [_Seeing THE MANUFACTURER._]

Hullo! Who are you?

MANUFACTURER. I am a stranger to you, but Pierrette knew me in a moment.

PIERROT. An old flame perhaps?

MANUFACTURER. True, I am an old flame. I've lighted up the world for a considerable time. Yet when you say "old," there are many people who think I'm wonderfully well preserved for my age. How long do you think I've been trotting about?

PIERROT [_testily, measuring a length with his hands_]. Oh, about that long.

MANUFACTURER. I suppose being funny all day _does_ get on your nerves.

PIERRETTE. Pierrot, you needn't be rude.

MANUFACTURER [_anxious to be alone with PIERROT_]. Pierrette, have you got supper in?

PIERRETTE. Oh, I must fly! The shops will all be shut. Will you be here when I come back?

MANUFACTURER [_bustling her out_]. I can't promise, but I'll try, I'll try. [_PIERRETTE goes out. There is a silence, during which THE MANUFACTURER regards PIERROT with amus.e.m.e.nt._]

MANUFACTURER. Well, friend Pierrot, so business is not very brisk.

PIERROT. Brisk! If laughter meant business, it would be brisk enough, but there's no money. However, I've done one good piece of work to-day. I've arranged with the editor to put an article in the paper.

That will fetch 'em. [_Singing_]:

"Please come one day and see our house that's down among the trees, But do not come at four o'clock for then we count the bees, And bath the tadpoles and the frogs, who splash the clouds with gold, And watch the new-cut cuc.u.m_bers_ perspiring with the cold."

That's a song I'm writing.

MANUFACTURER. Pierrot, if you had all the money in the world you wouldn't be happy.