The Return of Peter Grimm by David Belasco (types of ebook readers TXT) 📖

against the good black of a minister's coat. _I_ think myself that you have _probably_ stumbled on the truth about William's mother.

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. _Can_ it be true? Oh, dreadful! Dreadful!

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. But that child knew it all along. He's eight years old and he was with her until five--and five's the age of memory. Every incident of his mother's life has lingered in his little mind. Supposing you do find her and learn that it's all true: what do you prove? Simply that _William remembered_, and that's all there is to it.

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. Let us hope that there's not a word of truth in it. Don't you think, Doctor--mind, I'm not opposing your ideas as a clergyman,--I'm just echoing what _everybody else_ thinks--don't you believe these spiritualistic ideas, leading _away_ from the Heaven _we_ were taught to believe in, tend towards irresponsibility--er-- eccentricity--and--often--er--insanity? Is it healthy--that's the idea--is it healthy?

DR. MACPHERSON. Well, Batholommey, religion has frequently led to the stake, and I never heard of the Spanish Inquisition being called _healthy_ for anybody taking part in it. Still, religion flourishes. But your old-fashioned, unscientific, gilt, ginger-bread Heaven blew up ten years ago--went out. My Heaven's just coming in. It's new. Dr. Funk and a lot of the clergymen are in already. You'd better get used to it, Batholommey, and get in line and into the procession.

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. You'll have to convince me first, Doctor--and that no man can do. I made up my mind at twenty-one, and my Heaven is just where it was then.

DOCTOR MACPHERSON. So I see. It hasn't improved a particle.

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. [_Tolerantly._] Well, well. Good-night. [MRS. BATHOLOMMEY _follows him in the hall._

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. Good-night, Henry; I'll be home to-morrow. You'll be glad to see me, dear, won't you?

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. My church mouse! [_He pats her cheek, kisses her good-night and goes._

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. [_Who has gone to the door of her room--giving_ DR. MACPHERSON _a parting shot._] Write as much as you like, Doctor; words are but air. We didn't see Peter Grimm and you know and I know and everybody knows that _seeing_ is believing.

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Looking up._] Damn everybody! It's everybody's ignorance that has set the world back a thousand years. Where was I before you--Oh, yes. [_Reads as_ MRS. BATHOLOMMEY _leaves the room._] "I assisted in the carrying out of his instructions." [FREDERIK GRIMM _enters._

FREDERIK. Anybody in this house come to their senses yet?

DR. MACPHERSON. I think so, my boy. I think several in this house have come to their senses. Catherine has, for one. I'm very glad to see you back, Frederik. I have a few questions to put to you.

FREDERIK. Why don't you have more light? It's half dark in this room. [_He picks up the lamp from the_ DOCTOR'S _table and holds it so that he can look searchingly in the direction of the desk to see if_ PETER'S _apparition is still there. His eye is suddenly riveted on the telegram resting against the candlestick on the desk._] Is that telegram for me?

DR. MACPHERSON. Yes.

FREDERIK. Oh.... It may explain perhaps why I've been kept waiting at the hotel.... [_Tries to go to the desk but cannot muster up courage._] I had an appointment to meet a man who wanted to buy the gardens. I may as well tell you, I'm thinking of selling out root and branch.

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Amazed._] Selling out? Peter Grimm's gardens? So this is the end of Peter's great work?

FREDERIK. You'll think it strange, Doctor; but I--I simply can't make up my mind to go near that old desk of my uncle's.... I have a perfect terror of the thing! Would you mind handing me that telegram? [_The_ DOCTOR _looks at him with scarcely veiled contempt, and hands him the telegram. After a glance at the contents,_ FREDERIK _gives vent to a long-drawn breath._] Billy Hicks--the man I was to sell to--is dead.... [_Tosses the telegram across the table towards_ DR. MACPHERSON, _who does not take it. It lies on the table._] I knew it this afternoon! I knew he would die ... but I wouldn't let myself believe it. Someone told it to me ... whispered it to me.... Doctor, as sure as you live--somebody else is doing my thinking for me in this house.

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Studying_ FREDERIK.] What makes you say that?

FREDERIK. To-night--in this room, I thought I saw my uncle ... [_Pointing towards the desk._] there.

DR. MACPHERSON. Eh?...

FREDERIK. And just before I--I saw him--I--I had the ... the strangest impulse to go to the foot of the stairs and call Kitty--give her the house--and run--run--get out of it.

DR. MACPHERSON. Oh, a good impulse, I see! Very unusual, I should say.

FREDERIK. I thought he gave me a terrible look--a terrible look.

DR. MACPHERSON. Your uncle?

FREDERIK. Yes. My God! I won't forget that look! And as I started out of the room--he blotted out.... I mean--I thought I saw him blot out; ... then I left the photograph on the desk and--

DR. MACPHERSON. That's how William came by it. [_Jots down a couple of notes._] Did you ever have this impulse before--to give up Catherine--to let her have the cottage?

FREDERIK. Not much, I hadn't. Certainly not. I told you someone else was thinking for _me_. I don't want to give her up. It's folly! I've always been fond of her. But if she has turned against me, I'm not going to sit here and cry about it. I shall be up and off. [_Rising._] But I'll tell you one thing: from this time, I propose to think for myself. I've taken a room at the hotel and a few things for the night. I've done with this house. I'd like to sell it along with the gardens, and let a stranger raze it to the ground; but--[_Thinks as he looks towards the desk._] when I walk out of here to-night--it's hers--she can have it. ... I wouldn't sleep here.... I give her the home because ...

DR. MACPHERSON. Because you don't believe anything; but you want to be on the safe side in case he--[_Gesturing to desk._] was there.

FREDERIK. [_Puzzled--awed--his voice almost dropping to a whisper._] How do you account for it, Doctor?

DR. MACPHERSON. It might have been an hallucination or perhaps you did see him, though it could have been inflammation of conscience, Frederik: when did you last see Annamarie?

FREDERIK. [_Angrily._] Haven't I told you already that I refuse to answer any questions as to my--

DR. MACPHERSON. I think it only fair to tell you that it won't make a particle of difference whether you answer me or not. I have someone on the track now--working from an old address; I've called in the detectives and I'll find her, you may be sure of that. As long as I'm going to know it, I may as well hear your side of it, too. When did you last see Annamarie?

FREDERIK. [_Sits--answers dully, mechanically, after a pause._] About three years ago.

DR. MACPHERSON. Never since?

FREDERIK. No.

DR. MACPHERSON. What occurred the last time you saw her?

FREDERIK. [_Quietly, as before._] What _always_ occurs when a young man realizes that he has his life before him, must be respected--looked up to, settle down, think of his future and forget a silly girl?

DR. MACPHERSON. A scene took place, eh? Was William present?

FREDERIK. Yes. She held him in her arms.

DR. MACPHERSON. And then?

FREDERIK. I left the house.

DR. MACPHERSON. Then it's all true. [FREDERIK _is silent._] What are you going to do for William?

FREDERIK. Nothing. I'm a rich man now--and if I recognize him--he'll be at me till the day he dies. His mother's gone to the dogs and under her influence, the boy--

DR. MACPHERSON. Be silent, you damned young scoundrel. Oh! What an act of charity if the good Lord took William, and I say it with all my heart. Out of all you have--not a crumb for--

FREDERIK. I want you to know I've sweat for that money, and I'm going to keep it!

DR. MACPHERSON. _You've_ sweat for--

FREDERIK. [_Showing feeling._]--Yes! How do you think I got the money? I went to jail for it--jail, jail. Every day I've been in this house has been spent in prison. I've been doing time. Do you think it didn't get on my nerves? I've gone to bed at nine o'clock and thought of what I was missing in New York. I've got up at cock-crow to be in time for grace at the breakfast table. I took charge of a class in Sabbath-school, and I handed out the infernal cornucopias at the church Christmas tree, while he played Santa Claus. What more can a fellow do to earn his money? Don't you call that sweating? No, sir; I've danced like a damned hand-organ monkey for the pennies he left me, and I had to grin and touch my hat and make believe I liked it. Now I'm going to spend every cent for my own personal pleasure.

DR. MACPHERSON. Will rich men never learn wisdom!

FREDERIK. [_Rising_.] No, they won't! But in every fourth generation there comes along a _wise_ fellow--a spender who knows how to distribute the money others have hoarded: I'm the spender.

DR. MACPHERSON. Shame upon you and your like! Your breed should be exterminated.

FREDERIK. [_Taking a little packet of letters from the desk_.] Oh, no, we're quite as necessary as you are. And now--I shall answer no more questions. I'm done. Good-night, Doctor.

DR. MACPHERSON. Good-night and good-bye. [_With a look of disgust, he has gone to the table, held a medicine bottle to the light to look at the label and poured a spoonful into a wine-glass filled with water. As_ FREDERIK _leaves the house, the_ DOCTOR _taps on a door and calls_.] Catherine! [CATHERINE _enters, and shows by the glance she directs at the front door that she knows_ FREDERIK _has been in the room and has just left the house_.] Burn up your wedding dress. We've made no mistake. I can tell you _that_! [_Goes up the stairs to_ WILLIAM'S _room, taking the lamp with him_. JAMES _has entered, and, taking_ CATHERINE'S _hand, holds it for a moment_.

JAMES. Good-night, Catherine. [_She turns and lays her hand on his shoulder_.

CATHERINE. I wonder, James, if _he_ can see us now.

JAMES. That's the big mystery!... Who can tell? But any man who works with flowers and things that grow--knows there is no such thing as death-- there's nothing but life--life and always life. I'll be back in the morning.... Won't you ... see me to the door?

CATHERINE. Yes ... yes.... [_They go up together,_ CATHERINE _carrying a candle into the dark vestibule. The moment they disappear, a lamp standing on the piano goes out as though the draught from the door or an unseen hand had extinguished it. It is now quite dark outside, and the moon is hidden for a moment. At the same time, a light, seemingly coming from nowhere, reveals_ PETER GRIMM _standing in the room at the door--as though he had been there when the young people passed out. He is smiling and happy. The moon is not seen, but the light of it (as though it had come out from behind a cloud) now reveals the old windmill. From outside the door the voices of_ JAMES _and_ CATHERINE _are heard as they both say:_] Good-night.

JAMES. Catherine, ... I won't go without it....