Plays by Susan Glaspell Part 22

CLAIRE: Yes, I know who he is. I want to ask you--

ADELAIDE: Let the poor man get his breath before you ask him anything.

(_he nods, smiles, looks at_ CLAIRE _with interest. Careful not to look too long at her, surveys the tower_)

EMMONS: Curious place.

ADELAIDE: Yes; it lacks form, doesn't it?

CLAIRE: What do you mean? How _dare_ you?

(_It is impossible to ignore her agitation; she is backed against the curved wall, as far as possible from them._ HARRY _looks at her in alarm, then in resentment at_ TOM, _who takes a step nearer_ CLAIRE.)

HARRY: (_trying to be light_) Don't take it so hard, Claire.

CLAIRE: (_to_ EMMONS) It must be very interesting--helping people go insane.

ADELAIDE: Claire! How preposterous.

EMMONS: (_easily_) I hope that's not precisely what we do.

ADELAIDE: (_with the smile of one who is going to 'cover it'._) Trust Claire to put it in the unique and--amusing way.

CLAIRE: Amusing? You are amused? But it doesn't matter, (_to the doctor_) I think it is very kind of you--helping people go insane. I suppose they have all sorts of reasons for having to do it--reasons why they can't stay sane any longer. But tell me, how do they do it? It's not so easy to--get out. How do so many manage it?

EMMONS: I'd like immensely to have a talk with you about all this some day.

ADELAIDE: Certainly this is not the time, Claire.

CLAIRE: The time? When you--can't go any farther--isn't that that--

ADELAIDE: (_capably taking the whole thing into matter-of-factness_) What I think is, Claire has worked too long with plants. There's something--not quite sound about making one thing into another thing.

What we need is unity. (_from_ CLAIRE _something like a moan_) Yes, dear, we do need it. (_to the doctor_) I can't say that I believe in making life over like this. I don't think the new species are worth it.

At least I don't believe in it for Claire. If one is an intense, sensitive person--

CLAIRE: Isn't there any way to _stop_ her? Always--always smothering it with the word for it?

EMMONS: (_soothingly_) But she can't smother it. Anything that's really there--she can't hurt with words.

CLAIRE: (_looking at him with eyes too bright_) Then you don't see it either, (_angry_) Yes, she can hurt it! Piling it up--always piling it up--between us and--What there. Clogging the way--always, (_to_ EMMONS) I want to cease to know! That's all I ask. Darken it. Darken it. If you came to help me, strike me blind!

EMMONS: You're really all tired out, aren't you? Oh, we've got to get you rested.

CLAIRE: They--deny it saying they have it; and he (_half looks at_ TOM_--quickly looks away_)--others, deny it--afraid of losing it. We're in the way. Can't you see the dead stuff piled in the path?

(_Pointing._)

d.i.c.k: (_voice coming up_) Me too?

CLAIRE: (_staring at the path, hearing his voice a moment after it has come_) Yes, d.i.c.k--you too. Why not--you too. (_after he has come up_) What is there any more than you are?

d.i.c.k: (_embarra.s.sed by the intensity, but laughing_) A question not at all displeasing to me. Who can answer it?

CLAIRE: (_more and more excited_) Yes! Who can answer it? (_going to him, in terror_) Let me go with you--and be with you--and know nothing else!

ADELAIDE: (_gasping_) Why--!

HARRY: Claire! This is going a little too--

CLAIRE: Far? But you have to go far to--(_clinging to_ d.i.c.k) Only a place to hide your head--what else is there to hope for? I can't stay with them--piling it up! Always--piling it up! I can't get through to--he won't let me through to--what I don't know is there! (d.i.c.k _would help her regain herself_) Don't push me away! Don't--don't stand me up, I will go back--to the worst we ever were! Go back--and remember--what we've tried to forget!

ADELAIDE: It's time to stop this by force--if there's no other way.

(_the doctor shakes his head_)

CLAIRE: All I ask is to die in the gutter with everyone spitting on me.

(_changes to a curious weary smiling quiet_) Still, why should they bother to do that?

HARRY: (_brokenly_) You're sick, Claire. There's no denying it. (_looks at_ EMMONS, _who nods_)

ADELAIDE: Something to quiet her--to stop it.

CLAIRE: (_throwing her arms around_ d.i.c.k) You, d.i.c.k. Not them. Not--any of them.

d.i.c.k: Claire, you are overwrought. You must--

HARRY: (_to_ d.i.c.k, _as if only now realizing that phase of it_) I'll tell you one thing, you'll answer to me for this! (_he starts for_ d.i.c.k--_is restrained by_ EMMONS, _chiefly by his grave shake of the head. With_ HARRY_'s move to them,_ d.i.c.k _has shielded_ CLAIRE)

CLAIRE: Yes--hold me. Keep me. You have mercy! You will have mercy.

Anything--everything--that will let me be nothing!

CURTAIN

ACT III

_In the greenhouse, the same as Act I._ ANTHONY _is bedding small plants where the Edge Vine grew. In the inner room the plant like caught motion glows as from a light within._ HATTIE, _the Maid, rushes in from outside._

ANTHONY: (_turning angrily_) You are not what this place--

HATTIE: Anthony, come in the house. I'm afraid. Mr Archer, I never saw him like this. He's talking to Mr Demming--something about Mrs Archer.

ANTHONY: (_who in spite of himself is disturbed by her agitation_) And if it is, it's no business of yours.

HATTIE: You don't know how he _is_. I went in the room and--

ANTHONY: Well, he won't hurt you, will he?