Read-Aloud Plays - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Read-Aloud Plays Part 18 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
That was on Friday the fifteenth. And do you know what has happened since?
I have lived two separate lives. Yes, two existences have unrolled before me. In one I saw myself as I would have been without the telegram. My business fell away; my son was born a daughter, to my wife's indignation and my own dismay; and having sold my little shop I sought work in a cursed factory. Ah me, it was terrible! But the other picture. With my brother's fortune I made aggrandis.e.m.e.nts and eventually moved to the Rue de la Paix. My scientific genius was at last appreciated, and my watches and clocks became the pride of the haute monde. My son grew into a fine man, much resembling myself, and after learning the profession opened a branch office at Buenos Ayres. I won the ribbon. In short, nothing lacked to make life agreeable and meritorious.
But then it was, just at that point, I came to myself and looking up recognized my friend the philosopher. Years seemed to have pa.s.sed--two separate life times--and startled at finding myself seated in the same chair and wearing the same clothes, I demanded of you what day it was. And you answered Friday the fifteenth. How can such a thing be possible?
ALEXANDRE
To think that you, a watchmaker and a pet.i.t bourgeois, should experience what many a saint has died without realizing! I salute you, mystic, descendent of prophets and seers!
PERRON
But what was it then?
ALEXANDRE
What was it? A mystical experience, an experience of the highest order, like unto Saint Therese, though in symbols of mundane things. But that is the fault of the age more than yourself. With more practise your mind will exhibit even greater power. You must continue in the path. Who knows what you could do after years of self-denial, when a mere two weeks without cigarettes have brought you this vision?
PERRON
And without coffee. Don't forget the cafe! And now that I am rich I shall never go without it again. No, on the contrary, I shall have at least two, and on a silver tray.
ALEXANDRE
Do you mean to say you really believe?--But it doesn't matter. Whether or not the telegram came, the important fact is that you had the vision. It is for this you must be grateful.
PERRON
Can a philosopher really be such a fool? Of course the telegram came! And I am grateful!
ALEXANDRE
No. You are the most ungrateful of men. But why mention the telegram? What matters is whether your vision arose from seeing the telegram or seeing the telegraph boy? The philosophic truth is the same.
PERRON
Mon dieu! What difference does it make? But I swear I have the telegram, and it reads just as I told you!
ALEXANDRE
But no! You are ungrateful, and for that I despise you!
PERRON
But yes! And after reading it four times I locked it in my safe. Do I not _know_ I entered my shop and locked it up?
ALEXANDRE
Yes, and do you not know also that you moved to the Rue de la Paix?
PERRON
Oh! Could it have been--Then I am ruined, and my brother is the most selfish of men!
ALEXANDRE
But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. In the path shall you grow steadfast and contented.
PERRON
It doesn't matter!
ALEXANDRE
Not at all. And when you have become reasonable and grateful, I shall return and speak further with you. I shall devise for you such sacrifice as shall make the saints but as little children. Au revoir.
(_He turns away. The clock of St. Sulpice tones the half hour. The watchmaker listens to it with open mouth, and trembling violently, darts through the door of his shop._)
RAIN
PERSONS
CHARLES EVERITT MARY, his wife WALTER, seventeen ALICE, fifteen HAROLD, five
_The scene shows a hotel "parlor" in the White Mountains. Beneath the flashy ugliness of its modern wall paper and upholstery, a certain refinement persists from an older generation. The room itself is well proportioned, with a very good hearth. The parlor might once have been the ball room in a squire's mansion._
_It is about seven o'clock of an August evening, the room feebly lighted by a flickering acetylene burner. One feels the commencement of rain. A door to the rear opens and the Everitts enter, the younger children first._
HAROLD
She didn't give me any toast. I want some toast!
WALTER
A rotten supper!
MRS. EVERITT
Never mind, Harold, you had two cups of that beautiful milk.
ALICE
Of course it was rotten. Everything's second rate here. Ugh! what a musty smell!
WALTER