Contemporary One-Act Plays - BestLightNovel.com
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IMP. [_Getting up from his chair and keeping step with the_ FORMER POOR MAN.] What's the matter? I thought all you wanted was to eat, drink, and be merry.
FORMER POOR MAN. [_Frantically waving his arms._] Eat, drink, and be merry be----! Everything I eat gives me indigestion something awful; everything I drink gives it to me worse. How can I be merry when I am in this torment all the time? I tell you this pain is driving me mad. I want to get rid of it quick. Oh, why doesn't the Judge come?
IMP. What's the Judge got to do with it?
FORMER POOR MAN. [_Pathetically._] I am going to beg him to take back this indigestion and give me back my poverty. It was not so bad, after all; not nearly so bad as this pain in my stomach.
[_The street-door opens slowly, and a sorrowful woman enters. She is weeping softly. It is the_ VAIN WOMAN. _Gone is her posing and her proud manner. She walks humbly to the railing, and not seeing the_ JUDGE, she turns to IMP. _The_ FORMER POOR MAN _looks at the_ VAIN WOMAN, _frowningly muttering: "What's she here for?" Then he sits down at the left and rocks back and forth in misery._
VAIN WOMAN. [_Tearfully._] I must see the Judge right away, please.
IMP. [Languidly.] He isn't down yet. You're too earl----
VAIN WOMAN. [_Interrupting._] Tell him that it is very important, that I am in great distress and that he must see me at once.
IMP. [_Loudly._] I said that he was not down yet.
[_Seeing that she does not understand, he takes a writing-pad from his desk, scribbles a few words, and standing in front of her, holds it up for her to read._
VAIN WOMAN. [_After reading._] Oh, when will he be here? Can't you get him to come right away? Oh, I am so unhappy. [_She walks the floor in agitation._
[_The_ FORMER POOR MAN _grunts in irritation and turns his back on her_.
VAIN WOMAN. I cannot hear a word that is said to me. No one seems to want me around, and I am not invited out any more. I have the feeling that people are making fun of me instead of praising my beauty. Oh, it is dreadful to be deaf. [_Getting hysterical._] I want the Judge to take away this deafness. I would rather have my wrinkles.
[IMP _shakes his head in pretended sympathy, saying: "Too bad, too bad."_
[_She misunderstands and cries out._
VAIN WOMAN. Has the Judge given away my wrinkles? I want them back. I want my very own wrinkles, too. Wrinkles are distinguished-looking.
[_Beginning to sob._] I don't want to be deaf any longer.
IMP. [_Running over to the_ FORMER POOR MAN.] Say, this lady feels very bad. Can't you cheer her up a little?
FORMER POOR MAN. [_Who is still rocking back and forth with his own misery, looks up at_ IMP _in disgust_.] Cheer--her--up! Me? What's the joke?
[_The_ VAIN WOMAN _walks to the curtained door, looks in as if seeking something, then returns to a chair, where she sits, weeping softly_.
[_A peculiar thumping is heard at the street-door. The_ FORMER POOR MAN _jumps to his feet in expectancy, hoping it is the_ JUDGE. IMP, _also, stands waiting. The door opens as though the person that opened it did so with difficulty. The_ FORMER RICH CITIZEN _hobbles in. He is ragged and dirty, and one foot is bandaged, which causes him to use a crutch. He carries a large milk-can. He hobbles painfully to the centre of the stage. The_ FORMER POOR MAN _grunts with disappointment, and sits down again, rubbing away at his stomach. The_ VAIN WOMAN _sits with bowed head, silently weeping.
The_ FORMER RICH CITIZEN _looks about, then addresses_ IMP _in a rather husky voice_.
FORMER RICH CITIZEN. I wish to see the Judge at once. It is most urgent.
IMP. [_With an ill-concealed smile._] You can't see the Judge at once.
FORMER RICH CITIZEN. [_Impatiently._] Why not? I told you it was most urgent.
IMP. [_Grinning openly._] Because he isn't here. He hasn't come in yet.
What's your trouble?
FORMER RICH CITIZEN. [_Vehemently._] Trouble! Everything's the trouble!
I have been abused, insulted, overworked--even the cows have kicked me.
[_Looking down at his bandaged foot._] I can't stand it. I won't stand it. I want back my proper place in the world, where I am respected, and where I can rest and sleep and mingle with my kind. [_He hobbles to a chair and sits down wearily._
FORMER POOR MAN. [_Getting up from his chair, walks over to the_ FORMER RICH CITIZEN, _waggles his finger in his face and speaks fretfully_.]
What cause have you to squeal so? If you had indigestion like I have all the time, you might be ent.i.tled to raise a holler. Why, I can't eat a thing without having the most awful pain right here [_puts his hand to the pit of his stomach_], and when I take a drink, oh, heavens, it----
FORMER RICH CITIZEN. [_Interrupting contemptuously._] You big baby, howling about the stomachache. If you had a man-sized trouble, there might be some excuse for you. Now I, who have been used to wealth and respect, have been subjected to the most gruelling ordeals; why, in that dairy there were a million cows, and they kicked me, and horned me, and I----
VAIN WOMAN. [_Walks over to them, interrupting their talk, and speaks in a voice punctuated with sniffing sobs._] Have--[_sniff_] either of you gentlemen [_sniff_] ever been deaf? [_Sniff, sniff._] It is a terrible thing [_sniff_] for a beautiful woman like I am [_sniff_] to have such an affliction. [_Sniff, sniff, sniff._
[FORMER RICH CITIZEN _shrugs his shoulders indifferently and limps to the other side of the stage, where he sits_.
FORMER POOR MAN. [_Stalks over to the railing, where he leans limply._]
Lord deliver me from a sniffling woman.
[IMP, _who is perched on his desk, chuckles wickedly of their sufferings_. VAIN WOMAN _sinks dejectedly into the chair vacated by the_ FORMER RICH CITIZEN.
[_A knock is heard at the street-door. The_ FORMER POOR MAN _and the_ FORMER RICH CITIZEN _start forward eagerly, expecting the_ JUDGE. _Even the_ VAIN WOMAN, _seeing the others rise, gets to her feet hopefully_. IMP _hastily slides from his desk and, pulling down his tight little jacket and c.o.c.king his round little cap a little more over one eye, goes to see who knocks. A messenger hands him a letter and silently departs._
IMP. [_Importantly._] Letter for me from the Judge.
FORMER POOR MAN. A letter! Why doesn't he come himself?
FORMER RICH CITIZEN. Send for him, boy.
IMP. [_Grins at_ FORMER RICH CITIZEN _in an insolent manner_.] Well, well, I wonder what the Judge is writing to me for. It's queer he would send me a letter.
[_He looks the letter over carefully, both sides; holds it up to the light, smells it, shakes it. The two men and the woman grow more and more nervous._
FORMER POOR MAN. [_Extremely irritated._] For goodness' sake, open it and read it.
FORMER RICH CITIZEN. Yes, yes, and don't be so long about it.
[VAIN WOMAN _simply stands pathetically and waits_. IMP _walks over to his desk, hunts for a knife, finally finds one; looks letter over again, then slowly slits the envelope and draws out letter, which he reads silently to himself. They are breathlessly waiting._ IMP _whistles softly to himself_.
IMP. Well, what do you think of that!
FORMER POOR MAN. [_Excitedly._] What is it--why don't you tell us?
FORMER RICH CITIZEN. [_Pounding with his crutch on the floor._] Come, come, don't keep me waiting like this.
IMP. [_Reads letter again, silently, chuckling._] All right. Here it is.
[_Reads._]
"MY DEAR IMP:
"I have tried faithfully for years to aid distressed humanity, but they are an ungrateful lot of fools, and I wash my hands of them.