The Squire Part 23

{Kate.} Ah, dear, you haven't been in trouble till now. And lastly, always go to church and be a good fellow.

{Eric.} Which means, Kate--try to do everything I should have done in the happy life we might have lived together, _(sits, Eric on settee, Kate C.)_

{Kate.} Yes, that's what I mean. And when you find yourself getting very miserable, which means, getting very weak, I want you to say to yourself-- "Eric, old fellow, pull up--you've got a true love somewhere--you don't know where she is--but you'd better do everything she bids you, for she's a perfect tyrant" _(she breaks down, and stands C.)_

{Eric.} _(puts hat on chair)_ That's your last word, Kate--this is mine.

_(MUSIC.)_

When I get away from India, on leave, I shan't know where to bend my steps unless it's to the country that holds my girl.

{Kate.} No, no. _(moves to table)_

_(Rises and crosses, both near table.)_

{Eric.} Ah, listen, _(he holds out his right hand and traces upon it, as if it were a map, with his left)_ Suppose my hand's a map--there are lines enough on it--and that you're dwelling in some pretty foreign place, say _here_. Well, then, when you're _here_, I could while away the time _there_, and if you're weary of that one spot and run off to _there_, I could pack up my bag and smoke my cigar _here_. You see, darling? Never too near you, where I've no right, but always about thirty or forty miles away. So that in the twilights, which are long and saddening in foreign places, you might sit and say to yourself, "I don't want to meet Eric face to face, because he'd remind me of old times and old troubles, but he's not more than forty miles away, and he's thinking of his dear love at this very moment."

_(MUSIC changes.)_

{Kate.} _(drawing her hand across her eyes)_ You mustn't speak to me any more.

_(Eric takes his hat. Kate goes down to R., C.)_

{Eric.} Good-bye. _(looking in her face, trying to smile)_ Why, I do believe I shall begin to write you my Indian budget this very evening.

{Kate.} _(struggling with her tears)_ It doesn't matter how long the letter is. Good-bye. _(she holds out her hand, he walks down slowly and takes her hand. There is a pause--softly)_ You are going away--I can't help it.

_(MUSIC ceases.)_

_(She lays her head quietly upon his breast, he folds his arms round her. As they part Dormer enters door L., with a stern face.)_

{Eric.} Mr. Dormer!

{Dormer.} _(L.)_ We meet, as we have met before, sir, in hot blood. Mr. Thornd.y.k.e, you have no secret that is not shared by me, and yet you are here, sir!

For shame!

{Eric.} _(C.)_ Let me remind you, Mr. Dormer, that one of the few advantages of being neither a pauper nor a felon is freedom of action.

{Dormer.} Mr. Thornd.y.k.e, I am without the smooth tongue of my cla.s.s. I find you in a woman's house, where you are a guest by night as well as by day. I bid you begone. You are a soldier lacking chivalry--a man who makes war upon weakness --you are a coward! _(step)_

{Eric.} A coward, Mr. Dormer, is one who, under the cover of his age and profession, uses language for which a younger and a braver man would be chastised, _(goes up stage toward fire-place)_

{Kate.} _(crosses to Dormer R.)_ Parson, you don't guess the truth. If you knew! _(crosses to C. Eric drops R.)_

{Dormer.} I'll know no more. Miss Verity, I am the pastor of a flock of poor, simple people, who regard your words as precepts, and your actions as examples. I will spare you the loss of their good will, but I demand, so long as you remain in this parish, that Mr. Thornd.y.k.e be excluded from your house.

_(Kate goes up to bureau.)_

{Eric.} Oh, sir, I can relieve your mind on that point; a moment later you would have found me gone. Good-bye, Miss Verity, I shall inform you of my arrival abroad if you will let me.

{Kate.} _(takes his hand, and looks firmly at Dormer)_ Stop! Parson Dormer, this house is mine; while my heart beats, for good or for evil, neither you nor your bishop could shut my doors upon the man I love. That is _your_ answer.

{Dormer.} And to think that yesterday your voice had a charm and a melody for me. It serves me rightly for forgetting my old lesson. What a fool!

What a fool! _(he goes deliberately to bell rope L., and pulls it)_

{Kate.} What are you going to do?

{Dormer.} My duty.

{Kate.} What is that?

{Dormer.} To open the eyes of these blind people.

{Kate.} Open their eyes to what?

{Dormer.} Your guilt.

_(Eric gives an indignant cry. Kate goes to Dormer.)_

{Kate.} Guilt! It's not true! Parson, I am unhappy, with a life wasted, with hope crushed out of me, but not guilty yet. I am this man's wife in the sight of heaven, married a year ago at G.o.d's altar, prayed over and blessed by a priest of your church, to be divorced by the cruel snare which made you its mouthpiece. Parson, I am desperate and weak, but not guilty yet!

{Dormer.} Kate! Kate! look in my eyes--is this the truth?

{Kate.} _(clinging to Eric)_ As true as that at this moment, for the first time in my life, I am in danger!

_(Eric leads her to chair R., she sits. The village crowd, headed by Christiana, Izod, Gunnion, and Felicity, appear at door L., Christiana triumphant.

Dormer faces the crowd.)_

{Dormer.} Friends, Market-Sinfield people, _(laying his hand on Chris's, arm)_ you've been told by this good creature here that I've a few words to speak to you. Very well, this is my text. Beware of Tale Bearers! They destroy the simplicity of such natures as yours; they feed the bitterness of such a nature as mine. I entreat you, firstly, to believe nothing ill against those you hate, and you'll grow to love them; secondly, to believe nothing ill against those you love, and you'll love them doubly. Lastly, whatever you think, whatever you do, to pity this poor lady _(pointing to Kate)_ who is in some trouble at leaving the place where she was born. Go! _(turns down C.)_

_(Chris, s.n.a.t.c.hes her arm from Dormer with a bitter look. The crowd makes a movement to go, when Gil forces his way through and comes to Dor. L.

of him.)_

{Gil.} _(aside to Dormer)_ Parson, you're wanted up yonder!

{Dormer.} What is it?

_(Gil. whispers a few words in Dormer's ear, and falls back. Dormer raises his hand to stop the crowd.)_

{Dormer.} _(emphatically)_ Stay! before you go I'll tell you why the Squire leaves Market-Sinfield.

_(goes a little to R., C.)_

{Kate.} _(rises and goes up behind table--to Dormer)_ Parson! No! _(goes down on Dormer's L.)_

{Dormer.} _(not heeding Kate)_ She is going to be the wife of that young man there, our neighbor Thornd.y.k.e.

{Crowd.} What! Married!

{Dormer.} She is going to be married to him in your presence, in my church, and by me, before another Sunday pa.s.ses.