MOTHER (Returning to her seat): Mr. Bus Conductor, may I make a suggestion?
FATHER: You certainly may.
MOTHER: I suggest that you ask the passengers to raise their hands if they think it’s best that we don’t cross the Mississippi today.
FATHER: Very good idea! That’ll mean we turn around and go back to where we came from. Now think it over, ladies and gentlemen. All who are ready to do that raise their hands. (Mother and Billee raise their hands at once. Then Dodie. Finally, unhappily, Caroline. Father earnestly counts the twenty hands in the bus) All right! Everybody wants to go back. So, here we go. (He starts the bus) Now, I’m going to go pretty fast, so sit square in your seats.
(After a pause, confidentially over his shoulder to Caroline) I hope you really meant it when you put your hand up, Mrs. Arizona.
CAROLINE: Well . . .
FATHER: You do have some folks waiting for you at home, don’t you?
DODIE (Quickly): Yes, we do.
CAROLINE (Slowly, near to tears): But we didn’t get to China or to that river where the lions and tigers are. It’s too soon to go back to where I come from, where everybody says silly things they don’t mean one bit, and where nobody treats you like a real person. And we didn’t get to eat the famous heaven-fruit sandwich at that place.
DODIE (Embarrassed): Car’line, you can do it another time.
(Caroline’s lowered head shows that she doesn’t believe this.)
FATHER (Confidentially): Mrs. Arizona, I’ll honor that ticket at any time, and I’ll be looking for you.
CAROLINE (Raises her eyes to him gravely; after a minute she says, also in a low voice): Mr. Bus Conductor—
FATHER: Yes, Mrs. Arizona.
CAROLINE: Do you get paid just the same, even if you didn’t go the whole way?
FATHER: I? Oh, don’t you think of that, ma’am. We can tighten our belts. There’s always something.
CAROLINE (Groping feverishly in her handbag, with a quick sob): No! I haven’t got a lot of money, but—here! Here’s more’n two dollars, and you can buy a lot of things to eat with that.
FATHER (Quietly and slowly, his eyes on the road): That’s real thoughtful of you, Mrs. Arizona, and I thank you. But you put that away and keep it. I feel sure that this is going to be my good year. (After a pause) Excuse me, may I put my hand on your hand a minute to show you know I appreciate what you did?
CAROLINE (Shy): Yes, you may.
(He does so, very respectfully; then returns to his wheel.)
DODIE: Car’line, what’re you crying about?
CAROLINE: When . . . you try to do something for somebody . . . and . . .
FATHER (Very cheerful and loud): Gee whillikers! My wife will be surprised to see me back home so soon. Poor old thing, she doesn’t have many pleasures. Just a little shopping now and then. (He tosses off a snatch of song) “The son of a, son of a, son of a gambolier . . .” I think this would be a good time to go back and say a nice word to that lady who’s had a little disappointment in her home, don’t you?
CAROLINE: Well, uh . . . Come, Dodie (Caroline goes back and sits in front of Mother, talking to her over the back of the seat; Dodie stands beside her) The bus conductor says that everybody isn’t in your house any more.
MOTHER (Lowered eyes): Did he? That’s true.
CAROLINE: They’ll come back. I know they will.
MOTHER: Oh, do you think so?
CAROLINE: Children don’t like being treated as children all the time. And I think it isn’t worthwhile being born into the world if you have to do the same things every day.
DODIE: The reason I don’t like grown-ups is that they don’t ever think any inneresting thoughts. I guess they’re so old that they just get tired of expecting anything to be different or exciting. So they just do the same old golfing and shopping.
CAROLINE (Suddenly seeing a landmark through the window): Mr. Bus Conductor! Mr. Bus Conductor! Please, will you please stop at the next corner? This is where we have to get off.
(Under her voice, commandingly) Come, Dodie, Billee. Come quick!
(They start up the aisle toward the bus exit, then turn back to Mother. Their farewells are their best party manners)
THE CHILDREN (Shaking hands with both parents): I’m very glad to have met you. Thank you very much. I’m very glad to have met you.
FATHER (AS Mother joins him at the bus exit): But you’ll come on my bus again? We’ll see you again?
CAROLINE (To Dodie and Billee, low): Now, run!
(They run into the house like rabbits. She stands at the bus door, with lowered eyes.)
Well . . . you see . . . you’re just people in our game. You’re not really alive. That’s why we could talk to you. (A quick glance at her father, then she looks down again) Besides, we’ve found that it’s best not to make friends with grown-ups, because . . . in the end . . . they don’t act fair to you . . . But thank you; I’m very glad to have met you.
(She goes into the house. Father takes off his cap and glasses; Mother her hat and veil. They place them on chairs. Father prepares to make a difficult golf stroke.)
FATHER: Where are the children?
MOTHER: Oh, they’re hiding somewhere, as usual.
FATHER: Hiding! Hiding from their father!
MOTHER: Or they’re playing one of those awful games of theirs. Come in, come in. You’ll see them at supper.
(She goes into the house)
FATHER (He stands at the end of the stage farthest from the house and calls): Caroline! Dodie! Billee-ee-ee!
(Silence, of course. He goes into the house.)
END OF PLAY
Youth
CHARACTERS
LEMUEL GULLIVER, a shipwrecked sea captain, forty-six
MISTRESS BELINDA JENKINS, a commoner, eighteen
LADY SIBYL PONSONBY, a noble lady, twenty-four
THE DUKE OF CORNWALL, the island’s governor, twenty-eight
SIMPSON, a commoner and builder, twenty
[TWO BOY GUARDS, fifteen]
SETTING
A tropical island.
At the back, an opening through a thicket leads to the principal town. Forward on the stage is a palm-thatched summer house without walls. Under its roof is a rustic table and bench; on the table some worn books. On the floor at one side of the stage is a piece of glass, fringed with moss; this represents a spring.
Gulliver, forty-six, drags himself on in the last stages of hunger and exhaustion. He sees the spring and avidly laps at it with hand and tongue. Somewhat refreshed, he lies down and closes his eyes. Then rising to a sitting position, he becomes aware of the summer house. He goes to it and opens one of the books. In great amazement he murmurs: “English! In English!”
In the distance a young woman’s voice is heard lilting a kind of yodel. It ceases and is resumed several times.
Gulliver makes a shell of his hands and calls:
GULLIVER: Anyone? . . . Is anyone there?
BELINDA’S VOICE: What? . . . Wha . . . a . . . t?
GULLIVER: Is anyone there?
VOICE: (Nearer): ’Oo are you?
GULLIVER (Still calling): I am an Englishman, madam, shipwrecked on this island.
VOICE: ’Oo? . . . ’Ooh?
GULLIVER: I am Captain Gulliver, at your service, madam.
VOICE: ’Ooh?
GULLIVER: Captain Gulliver—Lemuel Gulliver of the fourmaster Arcturus, Port of London, at your service, madam.
VOICE: Oh! Lord. ’Ow old are you?
(Gulliver, nonplussed, does not answer.)
’Ow old are you?
GULLIVER: I’m forty-six years of age.
VOICE (Just offstage): No!! No!! Forty-six! ’Ow did you get here?
GULLIVER: I was shipwrecked, madam. I have been in the sea for three days, pushing a spar. I am sorely in need of food and am much dependent on your kindness.
(Enter Mistress Belinda Jenkins, eighteen. She gazes at Gulliver with growing abhorrence, covers her face with he
r hands and turns to the entrance through which she came.)
BELINDA: Oh, Lady Sibyl! ’Ow ’ideous! ’Ow unbearable!
(Enter Lady Sibyl Ponsonby, twenty-four. Both are charmingly dressed as of the eighteenth century in some textile-like tapa cloth. Lady Sibyl is a great lady, however, and carries a parasol tufted with seagulls’ feathers.)
LADY SIBYL (Staring at Gulliver, but with more controlled repulsion; as though to herself): It’s hall true! Then it’s hall true, wot they say! (Pronounced “si”)
BELINDA (To Gulliver, spitefully): Turn your fice awigh! How can you look at Lady Sibyl?
LADY SIBYL (With authority): ’Old your tongue, Jenkins.
BELINDA (Pointing): But he’s terrible! He’s terrible!
LADY SIBYL (Coldly): Yes. —You are ’ideous to behold.
GULLIVER: I’m a plain man, madam; and in addition I have been without food and drink for three days—and with very little sleep.
LADY SIBYL (Again as though to herself): I have never seen an old man before. Forty-six, you say? It’s hall true, too true.
BELINDA (Peeking from behind Lady Sibyl): The wrinkles, your ladyship. Nobody could count them! —Can he see? Can he hear?
LADY SIBYL (From curiosity not kindness): You must be suffering in every part of your body?
GULLIVER: I have suffered, madam, principally from thirst until I found this spring here; and I would be most beholden to you if you could also graciously give me something to eat.
LADY SIBYL: I shall never forget this moment. You are, indeed, a most pitiable spectacle.
GULLIVER (With dignity): I shall turn my face away if it distresses you, madam.
BELINDA: All of you is as repulsive as your face.
GULLIVER: I am as God made me and the hardships I have endured. —If you would graciously provide me with the means I could catch fish to [assuage] my hunger. I have been shipwrecked before and have sustained myself in many ways.
LADY SIBYL (Musing): At your age everything must be painful—exceedingly—breathing . . . and walking . . .
GULLIVER (Loud): Young woman, are you indeed deaf (Pronounced “deef”) or do you lack humanity? I am starving.
BELINDA: “Young woman!” You are talking to Lady Sibyl Ponsonby.
LADY SIBYL: Be quiet, Jenkins. —Old man, you will be given something to eat. There have been other old men on this island. They were given something to eat before they departed.
GULLIVER: I hope that will not be long.
LADY SIBYL: That will not be long.
GULLIVER: Did I understand you, madam, did I hear correctly: that you have never seen a man of forty-six before?
BELINDA: Forty-six! No one has ever seen anyone older than twenty-nine—except one that floated up from the sea, like yourself. There is no one on this island older than twenty-nine and there never will be.
GULLIVER: Merciful Heavens! What do you do with your older persons?
LADY SIBYL: I will now go and call someone to attend to your needs. You will not follow me! You will not leave this place. Today is a day of festival and it is of the highest importance that no one sees you—that is, as few as possible see you. —Jenkins, stay near him.
BELINDA: I, your ladyship!!
LADY SIBYL: DO not enter into conversation with him. (Appraising him coldly) I do not think he could progress far.
BELINDA (Becoming hysterical): Oh, your ladyship, your ladyship—do not leave me alone with him. I will become ill with the sight. (She falls on her knees, clinging to Lady Sibyl) I will become ill. I will become ill.
LADY SIBYL: Get up, Jenkins! —Very well, I will stay with this man. Go to the Duke of Cornwall. Draw him aside and speak to him in a low voice. Tell him that we have come upon this . . . foreigner. ’E will know what to do.
GULLIVER (Gesturing as though bringing food to his mouth): And tell him—
LADY SIBYL: Tell him the old man is hungry. —But, Jenkins, hold your tongue. Do not speak of it to anyone else.
BELINDA: To think that this should happen today—of all days! (She sidles up toward Gulliver and examines him intently. Softly) Think of all the years he has lived!
LADY SIBYL: Jenkins!
BELINDA (Still scanning Gulliver; half answering): Yes, milady.
LADY SIBYL: Jenkins! Do as I tell you!
BELINDA: Yes, milady; but I shall never see an old man again. I want to look at him . . . (Lower) . . . he is not as abominable as he was at first. One gets used to him, a little. —Old man, have you wives . . . and children?
LADY SIBYL: Belinda! I shall have you jailed!
BELINDA (Turning to her, with spirit): Your ladyship, with all due respect to your ladyship, your ladyship has been extremely severe with me for many weeks. I care not if I go to jail. As I was the first person to see this old man I ask to be permitted to have a few words with him.
LADY SIBYL: TWO minutes, Belinda . . . No more.
(Lady Sibyl turns her back on them and moves to the rear of the scene, striking her parasol on the floor.)
GULLIVER: Yes, Mistress Jenkins, I have a wife Mary, a son John, and a daughter Betsy.
BELINDA (Slowly, scarcely a question): And are you very cruel to them?
GULLIVER: Madam?
BELINDA: Old men are cruel and nasty tempered. Everyone knows that.
(Gulliver gazes deep into her eyes with a faint smile, slowly shaking his head. She continues, as if to herself.)
Your eyes are different from our eyes. Maybe some old men are a little bit kind.
(Gulliver, as though in friendly complicity, rubs his stomach with one hand and conveys the other to his mouth.)
Yes, I will hurry. —I am going, your ladyship.
LADY SIBYL: And remember, no blabbing. (She looks toward the sun, almost directly overhead) The games are about to begin. When you have delivered your message, take your place in silence.
BELINDA (Curtsies): Yes, your ladyship.
(Belinda goes out. Lady Sibyl starts strolling about with great self-possession.)
GULLIVER: Surely, I did not hear correctly—no older men?
LADY SIBYL: I have no wish to enter into conversation with you.
GULLIVER (After a short pause, no longer able to contain himself): By God’s body, madam, you cannot be of stone! You are not a child! I have not hitherto been regarded as a contemptible being. I have been received by kings and queens and have been their guest at meat . . . I am Captain Lemuel Gulliver. I am not a dog.
LADY SIBYL: I have never seen a dog, but I think you must greatly resemble one.
GULLIVER: Madam, you have seen nothing but one small island. You are not in a position to say that you have seen anything. I am astonished that you have no questions to put to me about the world that surrounds you.
LADY SIBYL (Lofty smile): What questions would those be, Captain Gullibo?
GULLIVER: Madam, ignorance is a misery, but there is one still greater: a lack of any desire to increase one’s knowledge.
LADY SIBYL: But I have learned much from you in this short time. You have come from that world out there (She indicates it lightly with her parasol; her voice turns suddenly vindictive) and you have brought its poisons with you. Your visible infirmities are also marks of the country from which you came. They must be as painful for you to bear as for us to behold. However, you will not have to bear them much longer.
(Gulliver gives up trying to understand her. He sinks down on the bench by the table. He is about to fall asleep.)
Captain, it is not our custom for a commoner to be seated in the presence of the nobility. (Gulliver, uncomprehending, raises his head) I see; you are deaf (Pronounced “deef”). I said: it is not the custom for a commoner to be seated in the presence of the nobility.
GULLIVER (Dragging himself to his feet; with ironic deference): Oh . . . oh . . . your ladyship will forgive me . . . my fatigue . . . and my hunger.
(Lady Sibyl puts her hand into her reticule and brings out some lozenges, which she places on the table.)
LADY SIBYL: While you are waiting, here are some comfits which I have been keeping . . . for my children.
GULLIVER: For your children, Lady Sibyl?
LADY SIBYL: Our children on this island live in a village of their own. They are well tended. They are happy. That is our custom here.
(In astonishment, Gulliver is about to ask a question. He corrects himself, and, bowing, says in a low voice:)
GULLIVER: I thank your ladyship.
(He puts two into his mouth ravenously; then takes one out for decorum’s sake. A musical sound, like a rolling chord from many harps, is heard from the city. Gulliver listens in astonishment.)
May I ask your ladyship the source of that music?
LADY SIBYL: You forget everything you are told. Today is a day of great festival. (She looks at the sun) It is beginning with the children’s Morris Dance and—
GULLIVER: Oh, milady, I would greatly wish to see this festival—
LADY SIBYL (Slight laugh, “how unthinkable”): These will be followed by the Hoop Dance and the Dagger Dance. The Duke of Cornwall—who will be here in a moment—is the greatest victor in the Hoop Dance that has ever been known. He has won eight garlands. Moreover, he is the only man who has ever kept a kite in the air for an entire day.
GULLIVER: Ah!! He must indeed be remarkable! . . . An entire day! . . . I trust that the duke is of mature years?
LADY SIBYL (Sharply): I did not hear you correctly. (Gulliver does not repeat the question) He is naturally of mature years. He is our governor. He is twenty-eight (Pronounced “ite”).
GULLIVER (Stares at her; then with dawning horror): Great Heavens, girl! What do you do with your older persons?
LADY SIBYL: Captain Gullibo, there is no profit in pursuing a conversation on matters you are not capable of understanding.
GULLIVER (Shouting): You kill them. You murder them when they reach the age of twenty-nine?
LADY SIBYL: How dare you address me in that manner?—Vulgar brutish Englander! Barbarian! How could you understand customs that are based on wisdom and reason.
GULLIVER: I dread to hear them! (Louder) Are you able to answer me: what do you do to those who reach the age of twenty-nine?
LADY SIBYL (Slowly; with serene assurance): We drink the wine. We sleep. We are placed in a boat. The current carries us away.