(.Z^ DOSE OF HELI A ( p.. '• AKY IVLS 1( DU U,. .-i,.... / ,'.i /;.'■,■,,/■,/■■'..' 1 ■ ■ . 1 , . . . 1 . ; ■ ' :''<■■; 1 1 .s . x'l^j^^/l^' as viewed by the light of a soft sun from an ocean greyhound. The gigantic, phantom-like buildings, together with their guardian angel. Liberty, gleamed with the pure radiance of a heavenly city not made with hands. "New York City Enthroned" was the subject of the other fresco painting. It was a very clever, impressionist, bird's-eye view of the city, supported by the stanzas of Hymn to New York, done in solid phalanxes. All was inclosed by a rich border, exquisite in design and har- moniously tinted. It reminded the student of a page of illuminated Latin manuscript of the 15th century, writ large. Horace {stepping lively toward the entrance door in order to greet Jack Hill, who is being ushered into library by an attendant). Holy Smoke! Is this Jack Hill — or his ghost? (Grabs Jack with both hands and gazes anxiously at his friend's countenance.) Jack (with a ghastly smile). Both! I am still riveted to my body. Horace. To your bones, you mean. How ill you must have been, to have lost so much flesh. Here rest 21 22 A Dose of Hell Act II your bones in my invalid chair. {Arranges chair in recumbent position.) Jack. I have not been ill — merely reducing. Horace. Reducing — the devil ! Jack {laughing weakly). Why, yes, if you like to put it that way. Excuse me ! I prefer my usual chair. {Seats himself in big rocker. Horace draws up one of smaller proportions and they rock in unison.) Horace. How^ do you put it? What is your excuse for looking like a medieval saint of the 20th century to-day — illumined as it is and knit together by the Light and Magic of Science? Jack. My body was too robust. People were begin- ning to speak of me as a dangerously good fellow. Horace. What rubbish ! /Nature set you up to carry big burdens like the rail-splitter, Lincoln, or, Goethals — who announces that war will find the canal ready. Jack {firmly). I shall shoulder them when they come. Never fear ! Horace {disgustedly). You will shoulder nothing if you keep on swindling your body. {Sympathetically.) Dear pal, it is but too obvious that you have overdone the reducing of your bodily reserves. Tremendous prob- lems are rising on our national horizon, which will de- mand to be handled by robust patriots supported by robust bodies. Sighing lovers and sickly saints are out of place in these days of huge world-problems and national issues. History testifies eloquently to the fact that neither in- dividuals nor nations can safely court weakness. {At- tendant ushers in Paul Gillette and Charles Deslys. All greet one another heartily.) Charles {to Jack). What luck to have you with us again ! But it pains me to observe how ill you must have been. Horace. Be seated, gentlemen. Jack must have no excuse for exposing his bones in an upright position Act il A Dose of Hell 23 longer than possible. The exhibit is indecent. (All seat themselves, Jack meanwhile trying his best to ha, ha, in his usual hearty style.) Charles (in appearance recalling Beau Brummel, to Jack). I don't suppose you would dare to face your tailor now. He would throw a fit to see his once perfect fit a cause for mirth. Jack. I imagine he would not covet the opportunity to serve me in my present state of emaciation. Paul {in the caustic manner of the pessimistic, chronic bachelor). What's got you in this fool fix? A woman is at the bottom of it, I'll bet ! The history of woman in connection with man has been a chronique scandaleuse from the beginning. That incorrigible misfit can turn a man — or the world for that matter — upside down and in- side out with a thoroughness which has long convinced me she is part and parcel of the Prince of Devils. {Laughter.) Consider for a moment what Eve of Para- dise, Helen of Troy and Cleopatra of Egypt have cost the world ! And now Emmeline of England is bent on playing the same old feminine role of destruction in a huge way. Religion is right in laying the fall of man to woman — and it is my opinion that man will keep on falling so long as there is a woman left on earth. {Jack good-naturedly ha, ha's while the rest join in with more or less enthusiasm.) Paul {to Jack, angrily). Why do you laugh, you fool, when some woman has reduced you to a skeleton and doubtless to bankruptcy? Horace {to Paul, chidingly). Tut! Tut! Why set up such a fierce growl when that despised misfit of yours has let you severely alone for a whole decade? Paul (scowling). Somehow a man never feels secure when it comes to woman, and often the oldest fools are the biggest fools — bah! (Turns to Jack.) Have you forgotten what you studied at college — or, was it in the 24 A Dose of Hell Act II Bible we learned how the sirens served their victims, how they charmed them till they perished with hunger, like you are doing? * Horace (appealingly to Jack). Dear Jack, your heart really is tender to weakness. Next, you are reducing your splendid body to weakness. Permit me to warn you in time — be strong! BE STRONG! {Butler appears and announces that dinner is ready. Hilariously Horace and Charles each secure an arm of Jack's and escort him to the opposite half of this mag- nificent library — sometimes, as now, separated from the sitting-room portion by huge, sliding, double doors — where they seat him at a library table, metamorphosed into a re- splendent and artistic ditting table. While they take their 0W71 places Paul is being ceremoniously seated by a waiter. Scarcely was the edge of their appetite removed when a fantastically gotten-up group of devilkins — sug- gesting black butterflies with wings of scarlet — rush in and begin a performance which includes freak dancing, freak singing, and a sort of diabolic music wrung from stringed instruments. As Paul rarely lost an opportunity to snub them no one was surprised to see a slipper Hy into the air and land pat into Paul's plate. They then rush from the room, shrieking with vixenish laughter.) Paul {in a rage). Why do you have these freak, cab- aret devilkins to entertain us? Horace. Because they do entertain us, I suppose. Be- sides, it's a case of Hobson's choice. I don't like men to try to amuse us on an occasion like this, and you will not remain if there is the semblance of femininity. Paul {uneasily) . Somehow — to-night — these devilkins cause me great perturbation. I am sure we have under- estimated their power — and their will — to wreck us, when they get an opportunity. Horace. It is possible they might find a way to give you serious annoyance one of these days. You make no Act II A Dose of Hell 25 secret of your dislike for the Mother Eve sex; and you really have treated these devilkins as you would not think of treating your dog. Paul. I am told they are spiteful little creatures. In order to be able to settle with me they may seriously damage all of us. Don't forget that! Don't have them here any more. Watch the people who seem bent on de- stroying things. It was beyond the power of the Vandals to so much as rear a suburb to Rome, but they did much, very much, toward wrecking the grand old City on the ''Seven Hills." Charles (to Horace). While the little demons are resting after their arduous labors, why not treat us to "Hymn to New York" as only Horace York can render so thrilling a masterpiece. I feel confident it owes its being to you. But as you refuse to own your literary offspring we must perforce regard it as the poem of an unknown god. Let us have it before we get busy with toasts and drinks, since a profusion of windmill gestures detract from the dignity of the poem. Jack. I, too, am eager to hear our favorite hymn. Get busy without more delay. (Horace rises and assumes his usual position by a small stand where he can give himself full liberty in respect to gestures; also be seen to the best advantage. He has been trained by the finest of elocutionists and — provided he has not drunk too many toasts — does full justice to both teacher and poem.) Horace York. O let some young Timotheus sweep his lyre Hymning New York. Lo ! Every tower and spire Puts on immortal fire. This city, which ye scorn For her rude sprawling limbs, her strength unshorn — Hands blunt from grasping, Titan-like at Heaven, Is a world-wonder, vaulting all the Seven ! 26 A Dose of Hell Act II Europe? Here's all of Europe in one place; Beauty unconscious; yes, and grace. Rome? Here all that Rome was, and is not; Here Babylon — and Babylon's forgot. Golden Byzantium, drunk with pride and sin, Carthage that flickered out where we begin. London? a swill of mud in Shakespeare's time; Ten Troys lie tombed in centuries of grime ! Who'd not have lived in Athens at her prime? Or helped to raise the mighty Walls of Rome ? See, blind men ! Walls rise all about you here at home ! Who would not hear once more That oceanic roar, "Ave ! Ave Imperator !" With which an army its Augustus greets? Hark ! There's an army roaring in the streets ! This spawning filth, these monuments uncouth Are but her wild, ungovernable youth. But the skyscrapers, dwarfing earthly things — Ah, that is how she sings ! Wake to the vision shining in the sun; Earth's ancient, conquering races rolled in one, A world beginning — and yet nothing done ! (Gratifying applause.) Horace. Thank you, gentlemen. (Bows profoundly. Resumes his place at the table.) And now we will have our toasts, observing our usual rules, viz., that each one is to toast what he likes and in the way he likes. But first I will ring for our little devilkins. They have prom- ised to give their new, patriotic yell after my usual toast — America. (Rings. They come trooping in m/inus wings but with a big drum and proceed to seat themselves in a picturesque group. Horace raises aloft his glass of wine.) Act II A Dose of Hell 27 Horace (impressively) : America ! Our hearts, our hopes are all with thee, Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears. Our faith, triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee, are all with thee. (Hearty applause. This was followed by the promised, patriotic yell on the part of the little demons, which was given with such perfect skill and abandon that they re- ceived an ovation, Paul himself joining in with enthu- siasm.) Horace. Jack, favor us with your toast without fur- ther delay. I am curious to hear what a near-skeleton will toast. Jack (rises with alacrity and raises high in the air a glass of 7vater). My toast to-night will be a double one — Water and Woman, because I feel newly and deeply in- debted to both. To Water — whom some saint has de- clared to be the liquid smile and good-will of God — for the reason that it has sustained me physically for twenty days and increased the activity of my mind. To Woman — more especially to the woman — because she has lifted me out of Flatland and placed me among the stars. (Faint applause, on the part of the men, hearty on that of the little demons.) Paul. Bosh! (They clink glasses and drink.) I, too, will toast Water and Woman. They have both taught me to find satisfactory substitutes. (Again they clink and drink, laughing ironically.) Charles (raising aloft his glass of wine). Permit me to toast a certain American millionaire who resides in Paris and sees to it that the tomb of Beau Brummel is kept in perfect repair. May he do as much for mine when I am all in — should the need arise. (Merry laugh- ter, clinking of glasses and drinking.) 28 A Dose of Hell Act II Paul (growlingly). Be seated, gentlemen! My dis- approbation concerning the conduct to-night of our once good fellow has augmented until I can keep silent no longer. I must speak out — or burst ! Horace. Speak out ! I doubt not we are all exas- perated that our Jack has become a water-fiend and a woman-fiend. Charles. Yes, speak out. Growl your fiercest, Paul. I am not less annoyed than you can be over each new insult our once good fellow has given the perfect dinner provided by our host on this occasion. To prove that / have appreciated the chic repast with its choice selection of rare wines I will run over the items, not missing one. Our temptation to dine well began with the picturesque appearance of small tomatoes followed by chicken soup with the usual hors d'oeuvres. Brook trout with moselle sauce and a salad of cucumbers next whetted our appe- tites. These were followed by a saddle of milk-fed lamb with mint sauce flavored with orange juice, accompanied by green peas and new potatoes. The sherbet was of creme yvette. The roast was boned and we had stuffed guinea hen, with new asparagus. The salad was fol- lowed by a savory of cheese and paprika and a light dessert of ice cream and fancy cakes. Did our once good fellow so much as taste one of the rarities set before him ! He did not ! All were turned down without ex- ception. It is now our turn to show him that he can not turn his pals down with impunity. Horace. How shall we proceed? What do? Not very long ago he could have thrashed us all, en bloc. One of the Little Demons (eagerly). I will tell you how. (Jack ha, ha's good-hum or edly.) Make a martyr-suffragette of him ! Feed him through his nose! (Consternation and laughter.) Paul. By Jove ! That's a working idea. Act II A Dose of Hell 29 Charles (laughing airily). I second the motion. An idiotic fasting bout — like Jack's — prepares the way for all sorts of diabolism. Besides a sick man is the worst of parasites and an ugly one to boot ! We must pull him up sharply. Horace (to attendant). Bring from the storeroom that coil of rope, also the handcuffs and the medals we used the other night in our playlet. (They are promptly produced.) Horace (giving the handcuffs to Charles). Take these and be ready to exercise them when the psychological mo- ment arrives. Meanwhile I will try to find the head or tail of this bunch of rope. (Concentrates on the rope.) Charles (irritated). I say how do you work these things? I never could understand machinery. Jack. Permit me to come to your assistance. (Takes the handcuffs from Charles and fastens them on his wrists. Charles tries to free his hands but finds he can- not. The little demons laugh with vixenish hilarity and turn a variety of somersaults.) Horace (shouting with impatience). This rope has neither beginning nor end ! Jack. I will help you. (Before Horace could politely refuse Jack has so cleverly enmeshed him in its coils that he cotdd not move either hand or foot. Jack then lifts him and seats him in a big arm-chair. The little devilkins are immensely amused and testify to the fact by shrill laughter and impish monkey-shines.) Horace (astonished and crestfallen). Hang it! You lack a good deal of being as weak and imbecile as you look. (To Charles.) We should not have begun this diabolic scheme without — due preparation. Paul. Since Jack has disarmed two of us I propose a boxing match between what's left of us. I think I can win out. Ghosts have yet to win a reputation as boxers. 30 A Dose of Hell Act II Charles. Being unfit for anything else Horace and myself will act as judges. Horace. It goes without saying that the one who gets whipped must enact the painful role of martyr-suffragette and be forcibly fed through his proboscis. (The little devilkins look disappointed. They do not know that pro- boscis is an elongated kind of nose.) Several Devilkins (shrilly and simultaneously). He must be fed through the nose ! Through the nose ! Through the nose! (Much laughter on the part of the men. Exit Paul and Jack to prepare for boxing.) Horace. It's mighty stupid — not to be able to move hand or foot. (To the devilkins.) Give us that pa- triotic yell again. The devil himself couldn't do it any better. (The yell was given with tremendous verve. As the head of Horace was the only free thing about him he made it do double duty by way of showing approbation, while Charles — with his hands in handcuffs — worked his feet and mouth to such an enthusiastic pitch that the little demons not only laughed in their shrillest style but turned a bunch of nezv and complicated somersaults. Enter Jack and Paul in lightweight szveaters. Paul makes \a spirited beginning. For some little time the boxing bout proceeds with no great gains on either side. However, when it appears certain that Jack, notwithstanding his weakened condition, is bound to carry off the honors of the match the bravest of the little demons rushes, pell-mell, between the two boxers.) Devilkin (beseechingly). Please, please, Mr. Jack, be a martyr-suffragette. We want you to get the medals. They are beauties. They cost $25. Jack. That settles it — if they cost $25. (The men laugh uproariously.) Devilkin. Yes, you are a good feller an' ought to have every one of 'em. Act II A Dose of Hell 31 Jack (seriously to the men). It is wonderful how women admire a man who has his breast covered with medals. At least I know of one woman who adores a medal-bedecked hero. (Suddenly.) What time is it? Horace. Ten o'clock. Jack. By Jove ! My fasting bout of twenty days — and forty nights — is up. (Laughter.) With your per- mission, Paul, we will call our boxing match off and I will play the role of suffering suffragette to please my little friends. Paul. I agree since I am getting the worst of it. (Jack proceeds to remove the handcuffs from the wrists of Charles. Next he frees Horace from his imprisonment in the coil of rope. Resignedly he scats himself in the big chair Horace has vacated with unseemly haste. With hilarious alacrity Horace, Paul and Charles get busy. Paul makes use of three sheets before he is satisfied that the ample middle zone of Jack is tightly tethered to the back of the stout, big chair. Charles has adjusted the handcuffs on Jack's wrists with infinite satisfaction. Meanwhile Horace has used all the coil of rope on Jack's lower extremities. He wanted to make sure Jack could not free them and treat them all to a round of kicks. An- other sheet was used up before his near-Roman neck was anchored to a tall piece of furniture. Paul tries heroically, with the assistance of Horace and Charles and a couple of attendants, to get some soup into Jack's throat, via the nasal passages. To please the little devilkins Paul imitates the hysterical suffragette to perfection. He tries to bite the hands that feed him, makes choking sounds, actually kicks — the rope giving more or less — and all in so feminine a manner as to fill the little demons with merriment. In their joy they do some high kicking, and at intervals shriek with laughter. Altogether Bedlam reigns, in the midst of which the little mischief makers dope the wine.) 32 A Dose of Hell Act II Horace. We must not feed him too much. He has been fasting so long. {To attendant.) Bring the three medals. Any man who will stand for all this wretched nonsense to please little devilkins deserves every medal we can scrape up. {Jack is relieved of handcuffs, sheets and rope. Medals are produced.) Horace {holds up medals). Who will make the pre- sentation speech? Paul. Bosh ! Make it yourself. Merely say that Jack has proved himself to be an all-round imbecile. Hence entitled to a bunch of fake medals. Jack. All I can say for myself is that I have earned something. To be fed by tube, via the nose, is a frightful experience, and I feel confident that if anybody has really earned the right to vote it is the martyr-suffragette. Paul {disgusted). It is plain that much fasting has made our poor Jack loony. Else he would be aware that these new fanatics are undermining Old England much the same as the Christian fanatics undermined Old Rome. Jack. It is an old, well-established belief that only in the school of suffering can humanity be lifted up. Now I can't help feeling intense sympathy for martyr-suffra- gettes who, in order to save others, must themselves first be nailed to the cross of suffering or broken on the wheel of agony. Horace. The Spirit moves me — as my Quaker ances- tors used to say — to speak. Paul. Cut it out! {Laughter.) Horace {ignoring Paul's interruption. As a prelimi- nary preparation he makes a succession of windmill gestures). Little demons and big demons. {Giggling on the part of the little demons.) I am bound to make a speech. Nothing can stop me. Paul. Cut it short! Act II A Dose of Hell 33 Horace (making a new beginning in which the wind- mill gestures seem interminable and convulses his audi- ence). I tell you I am bound to make a speech. Paul. Cut it short ! Horace (flying to pieces). I've a good mind to thrash every one of you ! The Majority. Go on ! Go on ! Speech ! Speech ! Horace. Since it is plain that my audience is a pack of rowdies I will cut out my speech altogether and merely suggest that we toast Jack ! the unconquerable ! Jack ! the new type of financier! Jack! the giant-killer! (Hearty cheers and clapping of hands. Horace, Charles and Paul hasten, unsuspectingly, to drink of the doped wine, while Jack, presently recalling that his fasting bout is a thing of the past, also drinks a glass of the doped liqueur. Seeing which the little demons are so disappointed that they silently steal out of the room.) Jack (having drank zvith the others, Jack raises his glass). My Friends — In response to the glowing tribute of Hymn to New York permit me to toast Love — that spark of Divinity which transfigures life with romance. We are here but a few, fleeting years. Henceforth may romance, high as the towers of our great city, inspire us to do skyscraping deeds ! Paul. Bosh ! (Nevertheless they all clink glasses and drink merrily.) Horace (looking around). What has become of our little entertainers? They appear to have taken French leave. I am disappointed. They were to have given us their newest, most impish dance and song business while we were smoking. Paul. I, for one, am glad they have cleared out. Con- tinue to have them around and they will do us up yet. (Paul throws himself down on a big, well-cushioned settee. Jack wanders about until he strikes the invalid chair.) 34 A Dose of Hell Act II Jack. Somehow this looks good to me now. (Throws himself down. Charles hunts tip the next most tempting reclining place, and occupies it. Horace follows the ex- ample of his guests.) Horace (to attendant). Pass around the best brand of cigars. Those presented to me by a certain crowned head of Europe. (Having lighted these precious cigars all smoke in silence a fezv moments. Attendant is given permission to retire with the others.) Paul. Not bad — but, nevertheless, I begin to feel bad and upset. Charles. I, too, feel very strange. Paul. That wine we had last tasted mighty queer. I'll bet the little devilkins doped it. They are so full of devilish pranks. Horace. For shame ! You have nursed your woes in connection with one woman-derelict until you are as sus- picious as the devil. Paul. Why shouldn't I be as suspicious as the devil when I'm feeling like the devil? Why I feel like a mad- man thrown to Japanese sabres ! Jack. I, too, feel as if my last hour had come. If only sweet Lucy was here to hold my hand. Paul (disgustedly). B-b-osh ! If I am semi-cr-crazy you are all-r-r-round silly. Charles (hysterically). You cannot let a friend — a friend — die like this ! (SnufHes and sobs in his exquisite handkerchief.) Horace (with an extreme effort to throw off increas- ing stupor). I will never desert my suffering compan- ions ! I will fight to the last ditch for them and for our sacred country ! Paul. B-b-bosh ! Horace. Never for a moment would I give up my American citizenship ! Paul. B-b-bosh ! Act II A Dose of Hell 35 Horace (grandiloquently). They say, See Rome and die ! / say, See New York and live — or bust. Paul. B-b-bosh ! (The rest take no notice.) Horace (by a supreme effort of iinll-power half raises himself and shouts). I would rather die daily on Brook- lyn Bridge than stagnate in Europe from sun to sun ! Paul. W-what m-matters now where you s-stagnate? You are getting old ! Charles (stops weeping to ask:) Who says I am get- ting old? I was told only yesterday that I had all the freshness of twenty-five and the gaity of an adorable youth. But to-night (sobs) things are different. Who would not feel old (sobs) in an atmosphere of diluted flue gases. We shall see ghosts presently. (Sobs hys- terically ill his fine handkerchief — a costly antique affair.) Horace (to Charles). I am astonished to see you such a baby. One would think you had failed to secure a coveted jade ornament from China — or a bit of jeweled Florentine work. Paul (hilariously. Tries to quote Walt Mason). On B-Britain's s-shore the suf-suf-suffragette is keeping all m-men in a s-sweat, and e'en the kic-kic-kic-king is in a sweat. (Paul laughs in a mirthless, maudlin manner.) Charles (stops zveeping and folds his hands in prayer). Now I lay me down to sleep. If I should die (Again he weeps in his handkerchief.) Horace (with forced bravado but, nevertheless, wabbly, sings a club version of the same prayer). Now I lay me down to sleep, if I should die before I wake, I should worry ! Paul (imitating the forced bravado of Horace and his manner of singing). N-now I 1-lay me down to sl-sl-sleep. If I should d-d-d-die before I w-wake, T should (shouts) not worry! Jack (in high-pitched falsetto tones). Say the little prayer right ! Say it as your mother taught you ! 36 A Dose of Hell Act II (Lowers his voice and repeats in sweetly, solemn tones.) Now I lay me down to sleep; I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die-die-die {Slips into uncon- sciousness as he whispers the last die.) Horace (tries to help Jack out). Before I wake- wake {He, too, drops into unconsciousness. Paul and Charles have already succumbed and are dead to the world and the things thereof.) Chauffeur {arrives to take Jack home. From the open door he sees his beloved employer looking like a dead man. Rushes into the room and is terrified by what he observes. Hastens to the telephone and asks central for Gramercy 7695 and gets it. Then, distractedly). Is this Mrs. Lovelace? I must speak to Mrs. Lovelace at once ! Mrs. Lovelace. I am Mrs. Lovelace. Has anything happened to Jack? Chauffeur. I am afraid so. Come as fast as you can, with your daughter, to York's apartment. Bring your doctor with you and stop for Mr. Jack's. {Chauffeur leaves telephone and goes to the side of Jack. Gases on his countenance in anguish.) Chauffeur {in heart-breaking tones). Oh, Mr. Jack! Mr. Jack ! You were the only square friend my life has had, and now you are gone. My God ! My God ! How can I live without you? {Sinks on his knees, throws an arm about his beloved employer and bows his head in grief. Enter Mrs. Lovelace and Lucy, followed by two doctors. On catching sight of the ghastly countenance of her fiance and the kneeling form of Jack's chauffeur Lucy clutches the arm of her mother and wildly screams.) Lucy. Jack is dead ! He has fasted too long ! I am his murderer ! (Faints and is carried out of the room by their doctor. Mrs. Lovelace, half-fainting herself, fol- lows. The other doctor — Jack's doctor — proceeds to make an examination of Jack and presently speaks encourage Act II A Dose of Hell 37 ingly to chauffeur. Whereupon the young man rises, grasps the hand of the doctor and wrings it with joy. He then accompanies the doctor about, to learn if the others are likewise likely to live. Re-enter Mrs. Love- lace with Dr. Murry.) Mrs. Lovelace. Are these men dead? Poisoned by that new and very deadly germ found by a French sa- vant? Dr. Johnson (flippantly). Yes, they are all dead — dead drunk! Mrs. Lovelace (extremely shocked and very angry). The wretches ! Why, their spree may cost my precious Lucy her life. I wish you could think of some way to give these gay, thoughtless vivants a lesson they would not forget as long as they live. Dr. Murry (who has always been very fond of Mrs. Lovelace and Lucy). They richly deserve a dose of hell. Mrs. Lovelace. You are right! Why not give it to them? Rig up a Dante Inferno. Put a diabolic, skulking beast in it. Next, you two doctors make yourselves up as Dante and Virgil, so that when they wake up, half- dazed, and see the flames, the hideous beast and — what looks like two classic visitants of hell — they will get the fright of their lives. Dr. Murry. My dear friend, I will do my best to carry out your wishes. Mrs. Lovelace (looking at her watch). It is time my poor Lucy had her medicine. I must go. Dr. Johnson. We must get busy, too, and prepare a dose of hell. (Exit doctors, Mrs. Lovelace and chauffeur.) END OF act II ACT III Commodious library of Horace York, superheated and presenting the appearance of a fiery, Dantesque Inferno. The close, heated atmosphere, together with the doped wine imbibed, cause the young men to become more or less delirious. They moan and mutter, groan, and occa- sionally talk aloud. Also, now and then, in their anguish, they gnash their teeth, smite their breasts and utter pierc- ing lamentations. When the two doctors, disguised as Dante and Virgil, push open the creaking entrance door, Paul and Horace are uttering sharp cries of anguish and smiting their breasts, zvhile Jack and Charles are moaning and tossing restlessly. Dante {with deep emotion). Bard! Thou who art my guide in the New World inferno — as thou wast in the Old — from whence came these miserable creatures whose cries of woe rend our hearts? Virgil. They hail from a great city of sky-reaching towers, many of which already far out-tower that of Babel. Dante. Why were not these New World Babel- builders dispersed, like those of old, ere they had finished one sky-reaching tower? Virgil. Tis possible that in the New World Babylon there were discovered ten righteous souls. {Accents of anger, cries for ventilation, intermingled with despairing groans and piercing lamentations on the part of the sleep- ers, cause such a deafening tumult that the two speakers perforce observe silence. They walk farther into the room, when they are confronted "by that image vile of Fraud," with the countenance of a just man, but with the body of a beast and the tail of a serpent. Angered by the 38 Act III A Dose of Hell 39 presence of Dante and Virgil, this base creature upturned its venomous tail and hissed in a blood-curdling manner. Next it made a lunge and fastened its claws in Dante's robe. Virgil denounces the beast in god-like tones.) Virgil. Cursed creature, avaunt ! Begone ! Begone l To outer darkness betake thyself, where thou dost belong ! Beast (in a whining falsetto voice). Woe is me! Wo-e ! woe ! wo-e ! (Skulks out of sight. Scarcely had Virgil accomplished this feat when there was a new out- burst of sighs, groans, and exclamations of a harroimng kind.) Paul (furiously). Hell, let up! I can stand no more! I am choking, sizzling, in this fiery place ! (Screams in piercing tones.) Let up, I say. Water! Water! WATER ! My millions for a drink of water ! (A lull fol- lows this violent outburst.) Dante. O Master, must this group of tortured souls forever abandon blessed hope? Virgil. 'Tis plain thou didst not read with care the dreadful words writ deep on the entrance gate of hell. Dante. Virtue Supreme, I pray you impart them to me. I could not make them out ; my eyes with tears were blurred. Virgil. At thy desire I will repeat the stern decree visited on those who enter here. (In sepulchral tones and with awe-inspiring gestures. Virgil repeats, as fol- lows:) Through me you pass into eternal pain; Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest Wisdom, and primeval love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal and eternal I endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here! 40 A Dose of Hell Act III Dante. Virtue Supreme, these words import hard meaning. Of what crimes were they guilty to bring upon themselves a doom so terrible and everlasting? Paul (cries out again in piercing tones, meanwhile smiting his breast), I am burning up! I am parched! I am aflame ! Will no one give me a drop of water — God's free gift to man? My fortune for a drink of water! Water! Water! water/ (Dante is overcome with grief. He is about to swoon. Virgil grasps him by the hand, then with pleasant looks restores him.) Dante. O Divine Master, may we not look on the countenance of this group who lie within these exposed sepulchres nigh at hand? Already the lids are raised and none o'er them keeps watch, Virgil. Ay, approach closer ! I will discourse of their lives, cut off midway while they were feasting and merry with wine. (They pause at the sepulchre of Paul and gaze for a few moments in silence on his anguished countenance. He is fiercely muttering in an unintelligible manner and shaking his fist at an imaginary foe.) Dante. Bard, the parched looks and pathetic speech of this miserable creature make me indeed curious con- cerning his history. Was he not born and bred in Lib- erty's own country, America? Virgil. You have guessed aright. He was reared in a country o'errun with spoiled children, and where liberty has become license and economy, extravagance. His fool- ish parents could deny their little Paul nothing, and now we see him denied everything, even God's free gift — water ! Dante. I infer that he was an only child. Virgil. Ay, ay. Fate was unkind to him from the be- ginning. He was early bred a monopolist and — given his brains — it was inevitable that he should develop into a multimillionaire of the watered-stock variety. He was very unpopular. Act III A Dose of Hell 41 Dante. You astonish me. One would imagine that, with his millions, he could easily have bought at least a semblance of popularity. Virgil. He regarded the people with contempt, and when approached for a generous check in behalf of some public measure he would repeat with brutal frankness, "The people be damned !" Dante. He was no hypocrite, it appears. Virgil. Far from that sort of meanness was Paul. Indeed, he not seldom went out of his way to explain why he did not attend church. Dante. What reason could this strange being give for not cultivating the Divine Spark lodged within his breast ? Virgil. He denied that in man's being was lodged a Spark of Divinity. He denounced the Church as the costliest of parasites, which, though immune from taxa- tion, did business but one or two days in the week. Dante. O Divine Master, did not this strange crea- ture tremble when he thought of the Day of Judgment? Virgil. Paul explained away the long-held belief in that awful time by declaring that the original language given as authority merely referred to a plan for municipal improvements laid out by the Maccabees. Dante CreHectively). Such a beast would, of course, oppose the advancement of woman. Virgil. Again you have guessed aright. He held with unnecessary fierceness — considering he furnished no woman with husband or home — that woman's sphere was the home, and that as wife and mother she had ample opportunity to engage all her time and talents. Dante. What reason did this watered-stock million- aire give for furnishing no woman with either husband or home? Virgil. Like a good many bachelors of both sexes, he would never discuss the subject of marriage in a seri- ous way. Indeed, the mere mention of the word seemed 43 A Dose of Hell Act III to put him in a flippant mood and as likely as not he would hum airily, You may carve it on his tombstone, you may cut it on his card, That a young man married is a young man marred ! Dante (clasping his hands together and raising his eyes heavenward). Vengeance of Heaven! Oh, how thou shouldst be feared! How frightful the fate of this flippant, selfish soul ! Virgil. Pass we on to the next! (They pause where Horace York still drapes one of his own easy-chairs. The chair has, however, by skilful metamorphosis, been made to present the appearance of an open, fiery, Dantesque tomb.) Dante. My Master Thou and Guide, pray tell me how this handsome, well-made man came to be overtaken by a fate so awful. Virgil. He was a fake son of America— one who ex- pended vast sums of American money in riotous living abroad. Dante. It is a truism that a man is known by the company he keeps. Pray tell me who were this man's companions. Virgil (sighs deeply). Alas, thou wouldst grow faint, perhaps swoon, should I comply with thy request. Whole pages of the Almanach de Gotha are devoted to them. Nearly all the crowned heads of Europe were as intimate with "New York Hymn" — by that name was he known to intimates everywhere — as it is possible for a crowned head to be with an uncrowned American head. High-bred women were not less fond of "New York Hymn." It passed into a proverb that where Horace York is, there are the Grand Duchesses gathered together. Act III A Dose of Hell 43 Dante. O Bard, explain how "New York Hymn" overcame the antipathy aristocrats manifest toward the average American millionaire. Virgil. This American multimillionaire made it his business to understand the idiosyncrasies and know the hobbies of European royalty and nobility. Then he clev- erly catered to them. He would ransack Europe for the delicate viands they preferred. In respect to rare vintages he procured bottles of the most rare and precious — so rare, indeed, that the Emperor of Austria was accustomed to drink but a tiny portion on feast days. His magnifi- cent yacht — I have reference to the one where so many royalties visited him — was so splendid below decks as to cause the envious to declare, 'Tt is not sporty !" Dante. O Master, had not this multimillionaire who, it appears, spent his life catering to royalty and nobility, any responsibilities in connection with his vast American fortune ? Virgil. ''New York Hymn" did not have to worry like the average millionaire. His many millions were looked after by responsible trustees and grew, betimes. Dante. Virtue Supreme, answer one question more. Had this princely American caterer to crowned heads any use for native land other than to draw from it huge sums? Virgil. He was much applauded in Europe for re- peating in his bluff, hearty fashion, "Not for a moment would I give up my American citizenship !" Dante. Did America likewise applaud this spirited declaration? Virgil (sadly), America feels betrayed by devotion that is of the lip merely. But — America is long-suffering ! Too long-suffering. She has well-nigh lost her paradise, it being now mostly owned by a small band of monopo- lists, while the bulk of the people are engaged in a desperate struggle for a mere living. 44 A Dose of Hell Act III Dante. Alas ! Alas ! I wonder not that we find "New York Hymn" in this place of torment. (Very sorrowful the twain turn away and sloivly pace the few steps intervening between the tomb of Horace York and that of Charles Deslys.) Dante. What American is here, O Bard, molded in garments so fine and fit that hell itself seems loth to taint them with its fiery breath? Virgil. *Tis Charles Deslys, the American Beau Brummel. Ah, doubly dowered was this descendant of a sturdy Huguenot and an Italian mother — first with genius recalling Greece in her prime; next with a fortune that a king might envy. Dante. O Divine Master, to what use did he devote his talents rare and wealth prodigious? Virgil. This degenerate son of America toiled not, neither did he spin. He chose to squander both talents and wealth prodigious in riotous living and reckless ex- penditure. Dante. Was he, too, a princely caterer to royalty and nobility ? Virgil. My son, dost thou not know that fake Ameri- cans are as inventive of ways to spend money with daz- zling prodigality as they are of get-rich-quick schemes which cause it to flow into their tills with danger-breeding velocity? Charles invented a scheme whereby millions of American capital were tied up in things of little worth and trifles light as air — for which he paid sensational prices. Dante. Has America many of this danger-breeding kind of parasite? Virgil. Too many by far. It is this prodigal class which has given her the reputation of being the great spendthrift nation of modern times. Dante. I suppose her metropolis sets the pace for extravagant living and wanton spending. Act III A Dose of Hell 45 Virgil. You are right, and the reckless expenditure of public money keeps pace with that of private. The in- debtedness of New York has increased over 250 per cent in ten years, and the interest thereon, to be included in each annual budget, has nearly trebled in the same period. The population has increased but 40 per cent. Dante. O Master, must not such a thoughtless, fatu- ous course bring to pass in time tremendous and tumultu- ous disaster? Virgil. It must, indeed, if continued. Even a great and strenuous nation like America, subjected too long to burden-bearing taxes, becomes anaemic and ready to suc- cumb to a thousand ills. Dante. No wonder we find this danger-breeding para- site in this place of torment! Virgil. There are multitudes of danger - breeding Americans in infernos farther away. Dante. O Master, I beseech thee, hasten not away from this inferno. There is one more belonging to this small group concerning whom I am very curious. Was he, also, a mere trifler — one who had been everywhere, seen everything and bought everything, but who did nothing worth while? (They walk to the tomb of '^A Certain Good Fellow" and gaze sadly upon him as, in semi-upright position, he moans in anguish and tosses his arms wildly about.) Virgil. You observe that this man's breast is adorned by three fine medals. He was permitted to wear them here because by nature he was such a good fellow. He had, indeed, a big, human heart, Dante. What occasioned the fall of this good fellow? What brought him to this fiery abode? Virgil. The same cause which has brought to pass the fall of many a good fellow — woman. Indeed, this good fellow was doubly unfortunate, since two women linked hands to compass his fall. First, his mother pre- 46 A Dose of Hell Act III pared the way. She was a sickly saint, as fit to mold a big man of affairs as a cloistered nun. Next he tried to please his sweetheart, a devourer of fiction light as air, with heroes common sense has long since doomed to the scrap-heap. 'Tis a pity, in this instance, for nature had confided to this good fellow a big spark of divinity, big financial brains, a big human heart, and housed them in a fit earthly home; that is, a splendid body. Dante. I thought Uncle Sam permitted his woman- kind free access to his glorious, sky-reaching Tree of Knowledge, and that American women had become the advance guard of American ideals. Virgil (sighing and wiping his eyes). True! True! But every nation has its belated contingent, likewise, composed of women not infrequently so beautiful and hypnotic that men like Jack would pawn their very souls to please them. Samson was of this kind. This good fellow was another. Hence the reason we find him on this blazing scrap-heap. Jack. Father Abraham, have mercy on me and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am tormented in this flame. (So terrorising did this quotation from the Bible approve itself — more particularly because of the poignancy with which it was uttered — that the effect was magical. The doctors were sorely tempted to break and run. But, quickly recalling the fact that they were there to give these vivants the fright of their lives, when they should awaken, half-dazed, they majestically continued playing the classic roles of Dante and Virgil.) Paul (opening his eyes in torment). I'll be d d if this isn't hell. (Groans and closes his eyes.) Charles (suddenly sitting up). In hell! By George! Just my darned luck ! Horace. Whew ! Hell's a sure enough hot place 1 I wonder if they won't let up on the heat when they hear Act III A Dose of Hell 47 me recite **Hymn to New York"? As soon as the poets Dante and Virgil come this way I will beg them to speak a good word for me. (Even Lucy, in a room across the hall, was aroused from her lethargic state and insisted on going to Jack without delay. Her mother yielded to her wishes, accom- panying her thither with a glass of water.) Lucy {impetuously throwing her arms around Jack's neck and kissing him repeatedly). O, Jack ! I am so glad you are alive ! Jack. So am I, but I am in hell, all right. Lucy (quickly glancing around). So this is hell? Why, it is a very romantic-looking place, and you have three splendid medals on your breast. Evidently you have been a glorious hero in hell. (Kisses the medals.) Oh, Jack, I did not realize how much I loved you until I thought you were dead ! My heart is all yours, (Here Lucy takes the glass of water from her mother, who discreetly van- ishes.) Jack (after disposing of the water at one gulp, shouts). Glory ! Hallelujah ! God be praised ! Hell has become heaven! (Gazes ecstatically at Lucy. She, with equal ardor, returns his glance, then impetuously hugs and kisses him again.) CURTAIN THE CASE FOR EQUALITY Thomas Jefferson Versus Bernard Shaw An American philosopher has asserted that life is a series of experiments and would not be worth living were it otherwise. I think it would be truer to say that life is a series of progressive experiments and would not be worth living were it otherwise. Who or what people would care to try the same experiments, over and over, ad infinitum? Therefore with joy we of to-day recog- nize the fact that life is but another word for sleepless, ceaseless Evolution. The great experiments of the past have usually been inaugurated, either by great dreamers or great thinkers; and made practicable by great doers. Thomas Jefferson and his group of thinkers set going a huge and unprecedented experiment, by announcing that "all men are created equal, with unalienable God-given rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." And now comes the famous Italian educator, Dr. Maria Montessori, with the plea that more liberty be given the child to follow its own trend; the teacher merely acting as scientific adviser. This because the child makes most progress by "doing and discovering." Indeed this seems to be the Divine Plan. Surely man has been at liberty to wreck the world pretty much as he pleased. Possibly one of these days he may learn how to run it without the shedding of seas of blood. What has been the result, thus far, of the working out of the Jeffersonian experiment? Glance backward a moment. 4S The Case for Equality 49 Already well nigh one hundred millions of people have grouped themselves beneath the folds of Old Glory. Im- migrants are still doing so at a rate ranging from half a million to a million and more each year. Educational and commercial expansion has been no less amazing. Our free public school system has planted the seeds for self- government in the inquisitive minds and passionate hearts of countless multitudes of bashful boys and bright-eyed girls. Dr. Montessori, at the Plaza recently, declared that in America she had found conditions nearer her ideals than in any other part of the world. King Alfonso of Spain has expressed the hope that there might be brought about for his people a development of education such as there is in the United States. But it has remained for China to give signal proof that she is well pleased with our educational methods. News has just been received that the government of the great Shansi province has offered to furnish and equip schoolhouses and guarantee a yearly sum — if only the American Board of Missions will take charge of them. As everybody knows — our country is fairly starred with concentrated reservoirs of knowledge, ycleped libraries. Churches, colleges, univer- sities, museums, theatres there are, galore. Too numerous for mention are other means calculated to cause the em- bedded Divine Spark to evolute strenuously, dramatically, picturesquely, puritanically, scientifically, financially, mu- sically and artistically. While to cap all are our won- derful newspapers and magnificent magazines ! As regards the acquisition of wealth Uncle Sam has approved himself a veritable, latter-day miracle-worker; one laborer with a machine producing as much product as a whole village of artisans in the Old World. Conse- quently no one need be surprised to learn that the wealth of the United States is now estimated to be not less than one hundred and twenty-five billions of dollars. All first- class money. Very different in this respect from our Con- ^0 The Case for Equality tinental money, which depreciated in value until an officer's pay was not sufficient to clothe him. "Bare-footed offi-' cers, as well as soldiers, left upon the snow their tracks in blood." Yes, even as early as 1777 the Jeffersonian experiment was working gloriously. When base plotters tried to bribe General Reed to use his influence with Washington, he replied: "I am not worth purchasing but such as I am the King of England is not rich enough to buy me." Indeed I think it must be admitted that — almost up to date — the Jeffersonian kind of equality with its great in- fusion of liberty has worked wonderfully well. And now comes G. Bernard Shaw — who himself "can write and talk the birds off the bushes" — with what he believes to be the only true kind of human equality. Some- how I cannot help thinking it looks suspiciously like the communism of primitive times, when people were in the hunting and pastoral stages of civilization. Money not having been invented at this early date it was, therefore, impossible to apportion equality of income in coin, a la Bernard Shaw. When people began to settle down to an agricultural life then began private ownership in land. Yet, notwithstanding, from primitive times up to date communism has been tried, sporadically, but never suc- cessfully. Since Socialism, though colored with com- munistic conceptions, is declared to be different and not to be confounded with the oft-tried communism, still as it has not been tried it is impossible to predict whether the proposed Collective Commonwealth could even be set going or not. True, the platforms definitely state that the means of production must be owned, operated and controlled by the people in common. However, it must be admitted that international Socialism is gaining ground in the United States and that it has given international Capitalism and international Roman Catholicism more than one bad quarter of an hour. The Case for Equality 51 When Mr. Hobson asserted that the Labor Party was revolting against Bernard Shaw's doctrine of human equality, that fascinating, dialogue-playwright remarked: "They are not revolting against it, because it has never been preached to them. It is not a part of their doctrine. But it is quite true that labor is now getting more and more into political power and the important fact you have to face is that labor men are not gentlemen ; that is to say that they have been trained up for generations in the idea and habit of each man selling himself for as much as he can get. The consequence is they are thoroughly against this idea of equal distribution. Every man of them thinks he should have more than somebody else." The kind of equality Mr. Shaw has in mind he defines as follows: ''When I speak of The Case for Equality I mean human equality, and that, of course, can only mean one thing: it means equality of income. It means that if one person is to have a half crown the other is to have two and sixpence. It means that precisely." When asked by Mr. Richard Whiting — who found this a hard saying — "Is the equality of income, the equality that Mr. Shaw speaks of, to be a rude equality in pounds, shillings and pence? I use this language not because I object to the thing itself, but because I want to know what kind of equality it is. Does it mean that all the earnings of the community as a whole are to be pooled, and that out of these earnings every one would receive a certain sum, a definite sum, or what does it mean ?" A "Voice" replied "That is the idea." Whereupon Mr. Whiting said, "I am sorry to hear it. A much finer idea, I think, is that of old Proudhon — 'from every one accord- ing to his powers, and to every one according to his needs.^ " Where circumstances are such as to limit a man to a fixed pittance, with no hope of a raise, one can hardly blame him for thinking life is not worth living on Mother 52 The Case for Equality Earth. The work of the Indian coolies in South Africa is said to be very hard, yet they receive but the small sum of seventy-five cents or a dollar per week. For this reason suicides are fourteen times more numerous than in India. Truly does "The American" observe: "Dire poverty is such a cringing, such a pitiful thing. It slays a man's manhood. It drives from him his self-respect. It robs him oftentimes of ambition. It snuffs out every spark of hope, every ray of sunshine. It makes of him not a man, but something less than a 'manikin.' " A man in the United States is often willing to work for a small sum in the present because he expects to be able to corral a heap of dazzling dollars in the near future. The chorus girl works hard and hopefully since, in the land of Jefferson and Paine, she is free to choose a hus- band from the millionaire class. Adventure, as every one is aware, is a prime necessity to the expanding soul. Now, pray tell me, how much of this prime necessity a man can hope to secure from a small definite sum — say, two and sixpence? Prof. Henri Bergson thinks that the human intellect is more at home with tangible objects than it is with emotions and ideals. If this is the case just how much at home would the American intellect be with a fixed wage — of two and six- pence? "It is through experimentation with tangible objects that the intellect arrives at the spiritual values underlying them," he furthermore asserts. Here the query arises, What amount of spiritual value w^ould a Jeffer- sonian American find monkeying with — two and sixpence ? It is quite possible that the semi-starving hordes of India and China would welcome the Bernard Shaw brand of human equality. I cannot, however, imagine liberty- loving Uncle Sam seriously experimenting with a kind of equality so inherently un-American. But should he be beguiled into swapping Americanism for International Socialism I fear it would not be long before our Ship of The Case for Equality 53 State would be "drifting on an aimless sea with a lifeless crew." But there is no doubt about the fact that man-made civilizations, even the best of them, sooner or later round up into a many sided sort of monopoly, which, presently, breeds corruption and catastrophes. The present unrest would seem to indicate that our country is now ripe for a new and still more progressive experiment, viz., the practical recognition of the fact that the sexes are soli- daire. And hence it follows as the day the night that the Jeffersonian idea should be expanded so as to include the women. Ah, how the heart of Mother Earth will thrill with hope, when it is heralded far and near, that Uncle Sam has decided that not only are "all men created equal, with God-given rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness," but^ likewise, all women! LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 016 103 963 9 Sip^E BO MARY IVES TODD I-'IO/JS' t , Or, J he Pauing of the Ula Jr/ (jm (/' . .' !'r •lij American Ahelard and Helov f'-.f I'jirruh I he Arncrinii' 1 \iru/l::c \ 1 MARY IVES 1 ODD iiiiili 016 103 963 9