Comrades: A Drama in Three Acts

Bess. Oblige me by making yourself comfortable, Mr. Stone. (Crosses to Marcus.)

Marcus. Yes; and forget those (snaps fingers) little trifles. Ha! ha! ha! (Bess and Marcus exit I. E. L.)

Simon (stands C. looking after them). Ha! ha! ha (mockingly)! I’m on the old trail, am I? Can’t pull wool over his eyes. He’s right. Nancy is the dear I’m hunting: the Nipper that will satisfy my thirsty spirit. They do say money is one of the sinews of war, the strongest and the mightiest to win. If that’s so, I’m on my muscle. That’s a glorious old blaze. Simon, make yourself comfortable (sits in arm chair). She told me to, and when a pretty girl asks a favor, there’s nothing shabby about me. (Sits before fire, warming his hands, chair with back to L. Enter Nancy, L. I. E.)

Nancy. I declare, I’m mortified. To see that couple billing and cooing, and she a little thing, who’s only just left her dolls, a-going to be married, and I scrubbing along in single blessedness, because I hadn’t the sense to take Simon Stone when I had the chance. Plague take the fellow! no doubt he’s given me up, when if he had only stuck to it he might have seen (crosses to fireplace), with half an eye, I was dying to throw myself (seizes back of Simon’s chair, whirls it round, and bounces into his lap, as she speaks this) into his arms. (Screams, jumps up, and runs L.) Mercy sakes! who’s that?

Simon. Needn’t rise on my account, Nancy.

Nancy. What?——no——yes——it is. Why, Simon?

Simon. Why Simon? because I was christened so, I ’spose, Nancy. Well, how are you? You see I’m down here on a little business with Mr. Manning. Didn’t think of seeing you. ’Sposed you must be married and settled before this, Nancy.

Nancy. Do you mean to say that you are not here on purpose to see me?

Simon. You don’t suppose a fellow is made of injy rubber, to bounce up after he’s been thrown, and run after the same girl that bounced him, do you? No, Nancy; when I quit gardening so suddenly, I made up my mind that chasing you was not a business that would pay to stick to.

Nancy. Good riddance, Mr. Stone.

Simon. Thank you, Nancy. Just at that point in my hitherto unfortunate career, Uncle Brim died, and left me a legacy.

Nancy. Who’s Uncle Brim?

Simon. Uncle Brimer Stone. We called him Brim, for short——Brim Stone; pretty good name for him, for he was a regular old Satan,——well, he left me a thousand dollars.

Nancy. A thousand dollars?

Simon. Exactly. Now, says I, Simon, you’ve been a rolling stone long enough. You’ve got a nest egg: sit still, and see what will come of it.

Nancy. Well, what did?

Simon. Calker Goodwin, the broker, came and wanted to borrow it: a genial fellow after he found I had the money, though he did cut me a week before; but then legacies, like death, level all distinctions.

Nancy. And you let him have it?

Simon. No; declined with thanks, as the editors tell the poets. Then he told me of a good investment. “The Iris.”

Nancy. Irish what?

Simon. “The Iris,”——a silver mine,——somewhere or nowhere, it don’t matter which. The stock was way down: eighty cents. Cal said it would rise in three days: bade me go in and win. So in I went, invested my thousand in Iris, and in three days it was way up to ten dollars, in three weeks to forty; then I got scared.

Nancy. Scared?

Simon. Yes; the thing looked too big. I said to myself, some poor fellow will get into this, ’twill bust and up goes his all. And then I’d been reading about rich men’s not being able to enter the eye of a camel, you know; and says I, I’ll be no party to any such business. There’s nothing shabby about me. I’ll sell out. Sold the next day at forty, and three days after the Iris was all in my eye: it busted.

Nancy. But you didn’t.

Simon. Oh, you’re simple, you are: it’s no use to talk to you of these great schemes. Can I do anything for you, Nancy?

Nancy. What do you mean?

Simon. Well, I’m not proud, Nancy; and when I look at you, the memory of departed days is strong upon me.

Nancy (tenderly). O, Simon.

Simon. And if there’s any young man you want to boost into a business that would suit you——

Nancy (sternly). Simon!

Simon. I’d like to help him to a start. I can’t forget your helping me to a good many.

Nancy (fiercely). Simon Stone! you’re just as hateful as you can be. You’ve got money, and now come here to put on airs before me. I knew you when you didn’t know where the next meal was coming from: when you hadn’t a whole rag to your back. Keep your money, and make the best of it. I’ll have nothing more to do with you. (Crosses to R. I. E.)

Simon. Where are you going, Nancy?

Nancy. To the kitchen, where I belong. I’m no fit associate for a member of the ring.

Simon (rising). Then I’ll go too.

Nancy. Indeed! a dirty kitchen is no place for a member of the ring. (Exit R. I. E.)

Simon. They’re in all kinds of dirty business anyhow. Don’t think, then, that will prevent me. Well, I’ve made her about as mad as I dare. She’s a smart girl, Nancy is, and she’ll find that, with or without money, there’s nothing shabby about me. (Exit R. I. E. May runs in front door L.)

May. Roy. Roy, where?——I must have dreamed, when I threw myself upon the bed. Such a horrid dream. Where are they all? (Looks off L.) There’s a light in the billiard room, and Marcus and Bess are there. I’ll go to them (goes to I. E. L.). No, how happy they look; I should be in the way. Dear Bess; to-morrow takes her from me, and gives her to another. May she be happy! She will never know my foolish fears for her made so much mischief. (Goes slowly to chair at fireplace, stands with her hand on back of it, looking into fire.) And to-night I shall know all. Ah, Roy, my husband, you know not how those simple words comfort me. In their fulfilment I feel there is a power to lift a burden hard to bear. (Sits in chair, half turned to fire.) And to-night I dreamed of him——the outcast. (Soft music, Matt Winsor opens door C. softly, catches hold of side of doorway and steadies himself, appears drunk.) I thought he appeared before me in all his rags, as once he came (Matt staggers to ottoman near window, catches at top of it and steadies himself eyes on the fireplace), wretched as then, the same drunken look in his eyes. (Matt staggers to table in same way.) Oh, how I trembled as he fixed his eyes upon me and said:

Matt. Roy’s wife (hic), how are you?

Matt. ’Scuse me. You did (hic) n’t ’spect me.

Matt. No such thing (hic): you did me no wrong. I de (hic) ceived you, and you turned me out like a dog——a stray dog——just what I was. What right had I ’mong hones’ folks.

Matt. Jes’ so; but you see it’s no use (hic). I fell again.

Matt. Well, you lis (hic) ’n to me. You told me to go to my wife——my deserted wife (hic). I went; she died in my arms. (Serious, forgetting himself.) Poor woman! she had fallen by the way. I couldn’t raise her, but I did the best I could; I made a pillow of the breast where beat a heart that once was all hers. She died there: died like a child sinking to rest. (Weeps.)

Matt (quickly assuming drunken manner). Well (hic), she died——she did. Poor Mary Randall!

Matt (hic). Was it? ’twas mine before I met Roy. That’s something you didn’t (hic) find out.

Matt. That’s all: she (hic) died.

Matt. A tramp (hic) now; a soldier once; a happy husband and father (hic) long ago.

Matt. Yes, I went to war, left them in a happy home; came back in a year to find the mother flown, the child (hic) gone with strangers. Then I went——I went to battle again to sell my life cheap (hic); no use, I couldn’t die. I changed my name——the name she had disgraced——and met Roy. You know the rest (hic). It’s only a tramp’s story (hic). Who cares for him?

Matt. Oh, I’ve found her (hic): she’s all right.

Matt. Yes, I found her, indeed, happy: a child to be proud of; but how could I face her (hic)? I, a drunkard and a tramp.

May (after a short pause raises her head, and falls back in chair). Oh, shame! misery! disgrace! I, that could not warmly greet my husband’s comrade when he came, because of pride; who turned him from these doors, jealous of the kindly heart that turned to him, have found my punishment at last. “If you would escape the shame,” he said, “forget me.” (Rises.) My father? no! no! Come shame, come disgrace, the wanderer shall find rest, the father find a champion in his daughter’s love. (Goes L. Enter Roy C.)

May (runs up and throws herself on his breast, C.). O Roy, Roy, never so welcome. O Roy, I am so happy. (Weeps.)

May (steps back in line with door, 3 E. R.). I care not: hear it all. (Roy goes to mantel.) One whom I thought dead, one whom my mother wronged, comes now in want and wretchedness, not to claim my duty as he has a right, but with a nobleness that puts to shame my pride, to seal his lips, that, with a word, could make me blush before the world. Do you hear me, Roy?

Matt. ’Twas but to test a daughter’s love, Roy. “All’s fair in love and war.”

May. Then you have been deceiving me. O Roy!

Roy. I couldn’t help it. ’Twas Matt’s work: we’ve all been engaged in it.

Marcus. Yes: all of us.

Bess. Well, I never; it’s the first I’ve heard of it.

Roy. It’s the first time, then, your ears have been off duty.

Bess. They’re not trained to secret service. (Runs up to Matt.) O Matt, I’m so glad to get you back. (Shakes hands with him.)

Simon (outside R.) Come along, Nancy, I’ll make it all right.

Roy. Ah, who have we here?

(Enter Simon and Nancy, arm in arm R. I. E.)

Simon. Mr. Manning, I came down here as a bearer of dispatches.

Roy. Ah, for me?

Simon. To you; but not for you. (Steps up to Matt.) Mr. Randall, I was guilty of a mean act towards you once.

Matt (gives hand). Never mind, Simon: you’ve been a good friend since.

Simon. Well, but I do mind: it weighed upon me. I don’t like to be shabby, and so, as I’m in the ring, I’m bound to wipe that out (gives packet). There, sir, is a commission as postmaster; it’s a good one. I’ve influence, you know. If you don’t like it, and want something better, just say so; I’ll fix it for you, for I’m in the ring——in the ring. (Struts down to Nancy, R.)

Nancy. You told me you’d have nothing more to do with rings.

Simon. Did I? Well, I’ll keep my word; but there’s one more ring we can’t do without. (Takes ring from his pocket and puts it on her finger.) This, for instance, is our engagement ring.

Nancy. Why, it’s a diamond, Simon.

Simon. It is, Nancy——a buster. This shall be followed by the wedding ring, and then the teething ring.

Nancy (claps hand over his mouth). Simon Stone!

Simon (takes her hand and draws it through his arm). You shall have them all, Nancy. There’s nothing shabby about me. (Roy goes up to L. of May.)

Roy. Well, little wife, are you satisfied?

May. Can you ask it, Roy? (Gives him L. hand.)

Matt. Ah, old fellow, the dear one was hardly pressed; she fought bravely, and won a peaceful victory. To her be all the glory.

May. She has stepped between the comrades of old days only, I trust, to be the link that binds them closer. (Gives R. hand to Matt.) Hereafter, in the battle of life, we three march in line, joy and sorrow, victory and defeat, to one, to all. Comrades in prosperity, comrades in adversity, ever true, sworn comrades.

(Exit Simon, Nancy, R. Matt, May, Roy, C. Marcus, Bess, L.)

Transcriber’s Notes