Index     1     2-I     2-II     3

ACT TWO
SCENE II

SCENE: The same.

Time: A few hours later—before dinner. LEONIE is standing in doorway looking out. BORIS center; he is fatalistically quiet at first.

BORIS—What it comes to is this then! You're through with me. You want me to go!

LEONIE—I'm no good to you! I can no longer help you.

BORIS—Frustrated altruist!

LEONIE—You hate me!

BORIS—That would be encouraging!

LEONIE—We have nothing more for each other.

BORIS—Less than we had in the beginning!

LEONIE—Less than I thought we had.

BORIS—[Walking toward her.] And the man of science?

LEONIE—What?

BORIS—[Still bearing down on her.] This intricate man of science. You fluctuate so, Leonie. [Facing her.]

LEONIE—Please, Boris. I've failed. Can't we part—beautifully?

BORIS—What do you want to do? Go out on the bay and say farewell before the villagers in a barge drawn by a flock of swans? Shall we have a little orchestra to play—with the strings sobbing—and the bassoon off key?

LEONIE—You are bitter and cruel. Why? I've tried to help you. Why are you bitter?

BORIS—[Moving close to her.] At least I'm honest. Can you say the same?

LEONIE—[Breaking away from him.] I don't know what you mean by that.

BORIS—[Getting in front of her.] Yes, you do.

LEONIE—You're eating yourself up. You're killing yourself. There's the great lovely world outside and you sit in your room hating—

BORIS—What do you recommend? Cold showers and Swedish massage? What does the man of science prescribe for me?

LEONIE—Why do you hate Kenneth so?

BORIS—I'm jealous, my dear!

LEONIE—Poor Boris. You're beyond a simple emotion like that, aren't you?

BORIS—I envy you, Leonie. All like you.

LEONIE—Do you?

BORIS—I envy all sentimental liars who gratify their desires on high principle. It makes all your diversions an exercise in piety. You're sick of me and want to sleep with the man of science. [LEONIE turns away. He seizes her arms and turns her to him.] Does this suffice for you? No. It must be that you can no longer help me. [Little silent laugh.] My sainted father was like that! God!

LEONIE—This is the end, Boris.

BORIS—Of course it is. I tell you this though: Beware of him, Leonie. Beware of him.

LEONIE—Your hatred of Kenneth—like all your hatreds—they're unnatural, frightening. I'm frightened of you. [Turning from him.]

BORIS—[Crossing before her, closing door so she can't escape.] Much better to be frightened of him. You know what I think. What does he think? Does he tell you? Do you know?

LEONIE—Yes, I know.

BORIS—You know what he tells you. This clairvoyant who gets rich profoundly analyzing the transparent. [Enter KENNETH, door back.]

KENNETH—Your mother would like to see you, Leonie.

LEONIE—Is she all right? [BORIS goes upstage to small table. Gets cigarette.]

KENNETH—Oh, very chipper. Mr. Frothingham is with her.

LEONIE—She sent for Sam, didn't she? I wonder why.

BORIS—Perhaps she felt the situation too complicated—even for you, Dr. Rice.

KENNETH—I don't think so.

BORIS—You are so Olympian, Dr. Rice. Would it be possible to anger you?

KENNETH—Symptoms, my dear Count, never anger me. I study them.

BORIS—Really, you are in a superb position. I quite envy you. One might cut oneself open in front of you—and it would be a symptom. Wouldn't it?

LEONIE—Boris, please—what's the good?

BORIS—[Crossing slowly to LEONIE.] You are quite right, my dear, no good—no good in the world. Give your mother this message for me. Tell her that under the circumstances I shall simplify the situation by withdrawing.

LEONIE—You make me very unhappy, Boris.

BORIS—How agreeable then that you have Dr. Rice here—to resolve your unhappiness. [Crosses quickly to table behind sofa and puts out cigarette.]

LEONIE—[Following him.] Where will you be in case I—in case you—Boris?

BORIS—Don't worry about me. A magazine syndicate has offered me a great deal for sentimental reminiscences of my father. Imagine that, sentimental They have offered me—charming Americanism—a ghost-writer. It will be quaint—one ghost collaborating with another ghost. [Raising hand like Greek priest.] My blessings, Leonie. [Kisses her hand.] You have been charming. Dr. Rice—[He bows formally. Exit BORIS.]

LEONIE—Poor Boris—[She sinks into a chair, overcome.]

KENNETH—He's part of the past. You must forget him.

LEONIE—Poor Boris!

KENNETH—You will forget him.

LEONIE—I'll try.

KENNETH—Exorcised!

LEONIE—You know, Kenneth, I feel you are the only one in the world I can count on.

KENNETH—Not me.

LEONIE—Whom else?

KENNETH—Yourself!

LEONIE—Light reed! Fragile! Fragile!

KENNETH—Pliant but unbreakable.

LEONIE—No. Don't think much of myself, Kenneth. Really I don't. My judgment seems to be at fault somehow. Paula thinks so too. She's always lecturing me. [Sits right end of sofa.]

KENNETH—Paula can't abide me.

LEONIE—It's not true!

KENNETH—You know, Leonie, I have an instinct in these matters—so, also, has your daughter.

LEONIE—Don't you like Paula?

KENNETH—I love her. Everyone connected with you.

LEONIE—Kenneth! How dear of you! Of course Paula and I are poles apart. Look at her friends!

KENNETH—Raffish!

LEONIE—[A little taken aback by this.] Oh, do you think so? All of them? Don't you like Will?

KENNETH—Nice enough. Clever in his way. With an eye to the main chance.

LEONIE—Really?

KENNETH—Naturally—penniless boy.

LEONIE—I've always encouraged Paula to be independent. I've never tried to impose my ideals or my standards on her. Have I done wrong to give her her own head this way? She's such a darling, really. She's killing, you know. So superior, so knowing. The other day—the other day, Kenneth . . . I took her to lunch in town and she criticized me—now what do you think about?

KENNETH—[Sitting on arm of chair.] For once my intuition fails me.

LEONIE—About my technique with men. She said it was lousy. Isn't it delicious?

KENNETH—Not more specific than simply lousy?

LEONIE—She said I threw myself at men instead of reversing the process.

KENNETH—But I should think she would have approved of that. She makes such a fetish of being candid!

LEONIE—That's just what I said—exactly. I said I couldn't pretend—that I couldn't descend to—technique. I said that when my feelings were involved I saw no point in not letting the other person see it. I reproached her for deviousness. Strange ideas that child has—strange!

KENNETH—I'm afraid her generation is theory-ridden! [Pause.]

LEONIE—Kenneth?

KENNETH—Yes, Leonie?

LEONIE—It's true of course.

KENNETH—What?

LEONIE—Paula's—criticism. I can't conceal my feelings. Least of all—from you. [Slight pause.]

KENNETH—Why should you?

LEONIE—Oh, Kenneth, I'm so useless! You know how useless I am!

KENNETH— I know only that you are gracious and lovely—and that you have the gift of innocence.

LEONIE— I hate my life. It's been so scattered—emotionally.

KENNETH—Whose isn't?

LEONIE—You are such a comfort. Really it's too much now to expect me to do without you. Kenneth?

KENNETH—Yes . . . Leonie.

LEONIE—Will you be a darling—and marry me?

KENNETH—Leonie?

LEONIE—[Returning his gaze.] Yes, Kenneth.

KENNETH—Have you thought this over?

LEONIE—It's the first time—the very first time—that I've ever been sure.

KENNETH—You are so impulsive, Leonie.

LEONIE—Kenneth, don't you think we'd have a chance—you and I—don't you think? [Enter PAULA, door back.]

PAULA—[Realizes she has interrupted a tête-à-tête.] Oh, sorry—!

LEONIE—Paula dear, have you been with Mother?

PAULA—Yes. Granny wants to see you, as a matter of fact.

LEONIE—Oh, I forgot! Is she all right? Cheerful?

PAULA—Oh, very.

LEONIE—I'll be right there. Stay and talk to Kenneth, Paula. He thinks you don't like him. Prove to him it isn't true. Do you think you could be gracious, Paula? Or is that too old-fashioned? [Exit LEONIE door back. In the following scene PAULA determines to get rid of the tantalizing and irritating mixed feelings she has about KENNETH, her sense of distrusting, disliking and simultaneously being fascinated by him—she feels he has something up his sleeve; she is playing a game to discover what it is and yet she becomes increasingly conscious that game is not unpleasant to her because of her interest in her victim.]

PAULA—Leonie's all a-flutter. What is it?

KENNETH—She was just telling me—she envies you your poise.

PAULA—Your intentions are honorable, I hope.

KENNETH—Old hat, Paula.

PAULA—I beg your pardon.

KENNETH—Undergraduate audacity. Scott Fitzgerald. Old hat.

PAULA—We don't like each other much, do we?

KENNETH—That's regrettable.

PAULA—And yet—I'm very curious about you.

KENNETH—What would you like to know?

PAULA—Your motive.

KENNETH—Ah!

PAULA—And yet even if you told me—

KENNETH—You wouldn't believe it?

PAULA—[Facing him.] No. Now why is that? Even when you are perfectly frank your frankness seems to me—a device. Now why is that?

KENNETH—I'll tell you.

PAULA—Why?

KENNETH—Because you yourself are confused, muddled, unsure, contradictory. I am simple and co-ordinated. You resent that. You dislike it. You envy it. You would like such simplicity for yourself. But, as you are unlikely to achieve it, you soothe yourself by distrusting me.

PAULA—You say I'm muddled. Why am I muddled?

KENNETH—You've accepted a set of premises without examining them or thinking about them. You keep them like jewels in a box and dangle them. Then you put them back in the box, confident that they belong to you. But as they don't you feel an occasional twinge of insecurity—

PAULA—Do you mind dropping the parables—?

KENNETH—Not at all—

PAULA—Why am I muddled? For example—

KENNETH—You're a walking contradiction in terms—

PAULA—For example?

KENNETH—For example—for example—your radicalism. Your friends. Your point of view. Borrowed. Unexamined. Insincere.

PAULA—Go on.

KENNETH—You are rich and you are exquisite. Why are you rich and exquisite? [Walking back to face her.] Because your forbears were not moralistic but ruthless. Had they been moralistic, had they been concerned, as you pretend to be, with the "predatory system"—this awful terminology—you'd be working in a store somewhere wrapping packages or waiting on querulous housewives with bad skins or teaching school. Your own origins won't bear a moralistic investigation. You must know that. Your sociology and economics must teach you that.

PAULA—Suppose I repudiate my origins?

KENNETH—That takes more courage than you have.

PAULA—Don't be so sure.

KENNETH—But why should you? If you had a special talent or were a crusader there might be some sense in it. But you have no special talent and you are not a crusader. Much better to be decorative. Much better for a world starving for beauty. Instead of repudiating your origins you should exult in them and in that same predatory system that made you possible. [Crossing to table behind sofa for cigarette. Pause.]

PAULA—What were your origins?

KENNETH—[Lighting cigarette.] Anonymous.

PAULA—What do you mean?

KENNETH—I was discovered on a doorstep.

PAULA—Really?

KENNETH—Like Moses.

PAULA—Where were you brought up?

KENNETH—In a foundling asylum in New England. The place lacked charm. This sounds like an unpromising beginning but actually it was more stimulating than you might imagine. I remember as a kid of twelve going to the library in Springfield and getting down the Dictionary of National Biography and hunting out the bastards. Surprising how many distinguished ones there were and are. I allied myself early with the brilliant and variegated company of the illegitimate—

PAULA—You don't know who your parents were?

KENNETH—No.

PAULA—Did you get yourself through college?

KENNETH—And medical school.

PAULA—Did you practice medicine?

KENNETH—For a bit. I devoted myself—when the victims would let me—to their noses and throats. It was a starveling occupation. But I gave up tonsillectomy for the soul. The poor have tonsils but only the rich have souls. My instinct was justified—as you see.

PAULA—You've gone pretty far.

KENNETH—Incredible journey!

PAULA—Having come from—from—

KENNETH—The mud—?

PAULA—Well—I should think you'd be more sympathetic to the under-dogs.

KENNETH—No, why should I? The herd bores me. It interests me only as an indication of the distance I've travelled.

PAULA—Will would say that you are a lucky individual who—

KENNETH—Yes, that is what Will would say. It always satisfies the mediocrity to call the exceptional individual lucky.

PAULA—You don't like Will?

KENNETH—I despise him.

PAULA—Why?

KENNETH—I detest these young firebrands whose incandescence will be extinguished by the first job! I detest radicals who lounge about in country-houses.

PAULA—You're unfair to Will.

KENNETH—I have no interest in being fair to him. We were discussing you.

PAULA—You are too persuasive. I don't believe you.

KENNETH—My advice to you is to find out what you want before you commit yourself to young Mr. Dexter.

PAULA—But I have committed myself.

KENNETH—Too bad.

PAULA—For him or for me?

KENNETH—For both of you; but for him particularly.

PAULA—Why?

KENNETH—I see precisely the effect your money will have on him; He will take it and the feeling will grow in him that in having given it you have destroyed what he calls his integrity. He will even come to believe that if not for this quenching of initiative he might have become a flaming leader of the people. At the same time he will be aware that both these comforting alibis are delusions—because he has no integrity to speak of nor any initiative to speak of. Knowing they are lies he will only proclaim them the louder, cling to them the harder. He will hate you as the thief of his character—petty larceny, I must say.

PAULA—[Jumping up, taking several steps away from him.] That's a lie.

KENNETH—Will is an American Puritan. A foreigner—Boris, for example—marries money, feeling that he gives value received. Very often he does. But young Dexter will never feel that—and maybe he'll be right.

PAULA—You hate Will.

KENNETH—You flatter him.

PAULA—How did you get to know so much about people? About what they feel and what they will do?

KENNETH—I began by knowing myself—but not lying to myself. [A silence. He looks at her. He takes in her loveliness. He speaks her name, in a new voice, softly.] Paula—

PAULA—[She looks at him fixedly.] What?

KENNETH—Paula—

PAULA—What?

KENNETH—Do you know me any better now? Do you trust me any better now?

PAULA—I don't know. [Enter WILL.]

KENNETH—Paula, Paula, Paula—[PAULA starts toward door back.] Don't go, Paula!

WILL—Oughtn't you to be changing for dinner? [PAULA stops upstage.] Hello, Doctor. What's the matter?

KENNETH—May I congratulate him?

WILL—What's he been saying?

KENNETH—Paula told me she is going to marry you.

PAULA—The doctor is a cynic.

KENNETH—We were discussing the European and American points of view toward money marriages—There's a great difference. The European fortune-hunter, once he has landed the bag, has no more twinge of conscience than a big-game hunter when he has made his kill. The American—

WILL—Is that what you think I am, Doctor?

KENNETH—[To PAULA amiably.] You see. He resents the mere phrase. But my dear boy, that is no disgrace. We are all fortune-hunters—

PAULA—[Pointedly.] Not all, Kenneth—!

KENNETH—But I see no difference at all between the man who makes a profession of being charming to rich ladies—or any other—specialist. The former is more arduous.

PAULA—Are you defending Will or yourself?

KENNETH—I am generalizing. [To WILL.] Congratulations! I admit that to scatter congratulations in this way is glib, but we live in a convention of glibness. Good God, we congratulate people when they marry and when they produce children—we skim lightly over these tremendous hazards—Excuse me. [Exit KENNETH.]

WILL—God damn that man!

PAULA—Will!

WILL—I can't stand him—not from the moment I saw him—because he's incapable of disinterestedness himself, he can't imagine it in others. He's the kind of cynical, sneering— He's a marauder. The adventurer with the cure-all. This is just the moment for him. And this is just the place!

PAULA—I've never seen you lose your temper before, Will.

WILL—You know why, don't you?

PAULA—Why?

WILL—Because he's right! While he was talking I felt like hitting him. At the same time a voice inside me said: Can you deny it? When I came in here he was saying your name. He was looking at you—it seems he hasn't quite decided, has he?

PAULA—I'm worried about him and Leonie—

WILL—He's got Leonie hook, line and sinker. That's obvious.

PAULA—She mustn't! Will, she mustn't!

WILL—You can't stop it—you can't do anything for Leonie. Nobody can do anything for anybody. Nobody should try.

PAULA—Will—you mustn't go back to New York. You must stay and help me.

WILL—Sorry. Nothing doing.

PAULA—Will!

WILL—I have a feeling you'll rather enjoy saving Leonie from the doctor.

PAULA—Will! That's not fair, Will!

WILL—It may not be fair but it is obvious. Also, it is obvious that the doctor won't mind being saved.

PAULA—It's lucky for both of us that one of us has some selfcontrol.

WILL—No, I won't stay here. I hate the place, I hate Dr. Rice, I hate myself for being here!

PAULA—Don't let me down, Will—I need you terribly just now—

WILL—[At while heat.] I haven't quite the technique of fortune hunting yet—in the European manner. Which of the two is he after—you or Leonie? Will he flip a coin?

PAULA—I hate you! I hate you!

WILL—Well, we know where we are at any rate.

PAULA—Yes. We do! [LEONIE comes running in. She wears an exquisite summer evening frock. She is breathless with happiness.]

LEONIE—Paula! Why aren't you dressed? I want you to wear something especially lovely tonight! Do you like this? It's new. I haven't worn it before. [She twirls for them.] I've a surprise for you, Will. You'll know what it is in a minute. I was thinking of you and it popped into my mind. You know, Will, I'm very, very fond of you. And I think you are equally fond of me. I can't help liking people who like me. I suppose you think I'm horribly vain. But then, everybody's vain about something. [BUTLER comes in with cocktails and sandwiches, to table right of fireplace.] If they're not, they're vain about their lack of vanity. I believe that's a mot! Pretty good for a brainless—Here, Will, have a cocktail—[WILL takes cocktail.] Paula—what's your pet vanity? She thinks mine's my looks but it's not. If I had my way I shouldn't look at all the way I look. [Enter DR. DEXTER, door back. He wears a sea-green baggy dinner-suit; he looks as "hicky" and uncertain as ever.]

DEXTER—Good evening, Mrs. Frothingham.

LEONIE—Dr. Dexter—how good of you to come. Delighted to see you.

DEXTER—Good evening. Hello, Will.

WILL—Dad!

DEXTER—Mrs. Frothingham invited me. Didn't you know?

LEONIE—[Takes DEXTER'S arm and goes to WILL.] You told me you had to leave tomorrow to visit your father in Brunswick so I just called him up in Brunswick—

DEXTER—She sent the car all the way for me. Nice car. Great springs.

LEONIE—[To WILL.] Now you won't have to leave tomorrow. You can both spend the week-end here.

WILL—[Walking away a little right.] Awfully nice of you, Leonie.

LEONIE—[Following him. DEXTER sits on sofa.] You see, Will, I leave the big issues to the professional altruists. I just do what I can toward making those around me happy. And that's my vanity! [Enter DENNIS, door back.]

DENNIS—Well! Well! Fancy that now, Hedda!

LEONIE—Oh, hello, Dennis, just in time for a cocktail. [LEONIE leads him over to sofa. WILL is isolated down right center.]

DENNIS—[To DEXTER.] How are you?

DEXTER—[Not friendly.] I'm all right.

DENNIS—Complicated week-end! You and the Healer! Faraday and Cagliostro. That'll be something.

LEONIE—[Takes Dennis's arm.] Everybody tells me to like you, Dennis. I'm in such a mood that I'm going to make the effort.

DENNIS—I've been waiting for this. I'm thrilled!

LEONIE—[Strolling with him across stage front.] Something tells me you could be very charming if you wanted to. Tell me, Dennis, have you ever tried being lovable and sweet?

DENNIS—For you, Mrs. Frothingham, I would willingly revive the age of chivalry!

LEONIE—But there's no need of that. I just want you to be nice. Here, have a cocktail. Give you courage.

DENNIS—Just watch me from now on, Mrs. Frothingham.

LEONIE—I will. Passionately. [Hands him cocktail.] I'll be doing nothing else. [BUTLER crosses back of sofa, offers DEXTER and PAULA cocktails. DR. RICE comes in.]

DENNIS—[Stage sigh.] Ah-h-h! The doctor! Just in time to look at my tongue, Doctor.

KENNETH—That won't be necessary, young man. I can tell—It's excessive.

LEONIE—[Crossing to KENNETH.] Kenneth—you remember Will's father—Dr. Dexter.

KENNETH—How do you do? [They shake hands. A second BUTLER has come in and he and ROBERT are passing cocktails and hors d'œuvres. LEONIE keeps circulating among her guests. KENNETH and DEXTER are in the center—DENNIS, obeying a malicious impulse, presides over them. Announces a theme on which he eggs them on to utter variations.]

DENNIS—A significant moment, ladies and gentlemen—the magician of Science meets the magician of Sex—The floating libido bumps the absolute! What happens?

DEXTER—[Cupping his hand to his ear.] What? [WILL crosses to door and looks out moodily.]

DENNIS—The absolute hasn't got a chance. Isn't that right, Dr. Rice?

DEXTER—By the time you got your beautiful new world, true science will have perished.

LEONIE—Aren't you too pessimistic, Dr. Dexter? Too much science has made you gloomy. Kenneth, the depression hasn't stopped your work, has it? Depression or no depression—[WILL springs up.]

WILL—[Tensely.] That's right, Leonie. [Everyone faces WILL.] Depression or no depression—war or peace—revolution or reaction—Kenneth will reign supreme! [KENNETH stares at him. WILL confronts him.]

LEONIE—Will!

WILL—Yes, Leonie. His is the power and the glory!

LEONIE—Dennis, this is your influence—

WILL—I admire you unreservedly, Doctor. Of your kind you are the best. You are the essence.

KENNETH—You embarrass me.

WILL—Some men are born ahead of their time, some behind, but you are made pat for the instant. Now is the time for you—when people are unemployed and distrust their own capacities—when people suffer and may be tempted—when integrity yields to despair—now is the moment for you!

KENNETH—[Strolling closer to him so they are face to face.] When, may I ask, is the moment for you—when if ever?

WILL—After your victory. When you are stuffed and inert with everything you want, then will be the time for me. [He goes out.]

PAULA—[Running after WILL.] Will . . . Will . . . Will . . . [She follows him out.]

LEONIE—[Devastated by this strange behavior.] What is it? I don't like it when people stand in the middle of the floor and make speeches. What's the matter with him? Dennis, do you know?

DENNIS—[With a look at KENNETH.] I can guess.

LEONIE—Has he quarreled with Paula? Paula is so inept. She doesn't know how to . . . At the same time, if he had a grievance, why couldn't he have kept it until after dinner? [Enter ROBERT.]

ROBERT—Dinner is served. [Exit ROBERT.]

LEONIE—Well, we'll do what we can. Sam is dining with Mother in her room, Boris has a headache. Dennis, you and Dr. Dexter—

DENNIS—You've picked me, Dr. Dexter. I congratulate you.

DEXTER—Thank God, I can't hear a word you say. [Exit DEXTER, door back.]

DENNIS—[Sadistically.] Oh, yes, he can. And we'll fight it out on these lines if it takes all dinner. [He follows DEXTER out.]

LEONIE—What extraordinary behavior! What do you suppose, Kenneth—shall I go after them?

KENNETH—I wouldn't. It's their problem. Give them time.

LEONIE—[Reassured.] You are so wise, Kenneth. How did I ever get on without you? I have that secure feeling that you are going to be my last indiscretion. When I think how neatly I've captured you—I feel quite proud. I guess my technique isn't so lousy after all. [She takes his arm and swings along beside him as they waltz in to dinner.]

Curtain

Index     1     2-I     2-II     3