The Magic Tower and Other One-Act Plays (7 page)

DR. FRELICH
: It’s hardly imaginable.

VASHYA
: I’ll send for her now. I’ll have the servant let her out of her room. [
He causes the sound of a bell to be heard
.]

DR. FRELICH
: You mean you have
her—?

VASHYA
: Locked up? Yes, it’s necessary.

PHILLIP
[
entering
]: Did you ring?

VASHYA
: Phillip, let Lady Shontine out of her room and tell her I want to see her.

PHILLIP
: Yes, Sir.

VASHYA
: This is terribly trying. Will you have a drink?

DR. FRELICH
: No, thank you.

VASHYA
: You Jews are a frugal, temperate people. I wonder sometimes if it pays. I personally have always felt that life was to be lived
passionately—with
abandon! Do you see? I’ve always lived it that way!

DR. FRELICH
: You’ve had a remarkable career, Sir Vashya.

VASHYA
: But, Doctor, people don’t understand my career. Some of
them—well
, you
know!—they
call me horrible names. They accuse me of being a war-profiteer. They say I’ve grown fat off of carrion flesh. They call me
a—a
vulture! Is that true, Doctor? Haven’t I been completely justified in everything that I have done for my country?

DR. FRELICH
: Your justification, Sir Vashya, is your country’s
need
!

VASHYA
:
My—?
Yes, my country’s
need
! They needed ammunition, I gave it to them, didn’t I? They needed tanks, airplanes, gases, subterranean explosives, volcano rockets! I gave it to them! They needed the new death ray, didn’t they? And I supplied them with that.
That’s my justification, Doctor. I gave them what they needed! [
He breathes heavily with excitement
.] Yes, that’s my justification, my country’s need!

LADY SHONTINE
[
entering, with controlled bitterness
]: It’s not true. He has no country. Is he talking to you about patriotism, Doctor?

DR. FRELICH
: Lady Shontine.

VASHYA
: You know each other? Good. Perhaps she’ll talk to you, Doctor.

LADY SHONTINE
[
with a slight foreign accent
]: Let me tell you the truth of it, Doctor. He’s a man who has no country. No allegiance. Ask him where he was born. That may embarrass him, Doctor. He was born a long way from here. And yet he talks of patriotism to THIS country!

VASHYA
: You see, Doctor?

DR. FRELICH
: But Lady Shontine, I don’t have to remind you that many of our finest citizens are adopted citizens.

LADY SHONTINE
: Not him. He’s not a citizen. He’s a madman.

DR. FRELICH
: Please, Lady Shontine, sit down and let me ask you a few questions.

VASHYA
: Lillian, the Doctor wants to help you.

LADY SHONTINE
: Me? Not me, but you, Vashya. You are the one that needs help. You have lost your mind. It’s true, Doctor. The men come for him at night and he doesn’t even see them or hear them.

VASHYA
[
despairingly
]: See!

DR. FRELICH
: Those delusions of fear that you have about your husband, Lady Shontine . . .

LADY SHONTINE
: I have no delusions. My mind is perfectly clear.

VASHYA
: Tell him about the men you see in our bedroom at night.

LADY SHONTINE
: Yes. Many men. Soldiers. They come trooping
into the room and they stand in a circle around the bed. They speak to him in low voices, say terrible things. I can’t stand it much longer.

VASHYA
: You see, Doctor?

DR. FRELICH
: Yes. Hallucinations, visual and auditory.

LADY SHONTINE
: No, Doctor, not hallucinations but real men!
—Only
all of them are dead . . .

DR. FRELICH
: Death is our chief preoccupation these days. We live with it so constantly that it naturally tends to become either a matter of complete indifference to us or
else—an
obsession! We can’t turn a street-corner without coming face to face with it! It’s no wonder! We go to bed at night and wake up in the morning with the rumbling of guns in our ears! A man like you, Sir Vashya, a man with iron nerves, can’t realize what it is to be obsessed with the fear of death as so many of us are these days . . . Excuse me, Lady Shontine, you were telling me about the men that come into your bedroom at night.

LADY SHONTINE
[
a slight pause
]: They come into the room and stand around the bed and they ask for HIM. They want HIM to go WITH them back to where they came from. They say it’s time for HIM to go WITH them. He SENT them there. He’s their LEADER they say, and they want him to go back there with them.

DR. FRELICH
: Back where, Lady Shontine?

LADY SHONTINE
: To the front. The places where they were killed. But he won’t go. He’s AFRAID to go, Doctor. But I know that he ought to go. He belongs with them. And someday they’ll INSIST on his going. They won’t take “no” for an answer, and then he’ll have to go with them.

VASHYA
: You see?

DR. FRELICH
: These men, Lady Shontine, do you recognize any of their faces?

LADY SHONTINE
: Some of
them—yes
, some of them. My two brothers. One of them was only seventeen, a dear boy with very soft blue eyes. I can’t see them anymore. He keeps them closed when he
comes into my room at night. I think he doesn’t want to see me in bed with this man. And then there is my father and many other men I danced with when I was a very young girl.
—And
there is one other. A young man who was very nice to me last winter when I was feeling so badly. He had a quiet, pleasant voice that made me feel calm inside. But there was something wrong with his legs, one of them shorter than the other, and for that reason he wasn’t enlisted. I was glad of that because he didn’t seem made for the war. He hated all of it so.
He—he
read some of his poems which I liked very much. But some kind of a mistake occurred and in spite of his affliction, Doctor, he was drafted into the army and sent to the front and later I learned that he had been blown into little pieces. . . His name was David. And now at night he comes into my bedroom and he doesn’t look at me, he looks at my husband, and he says, “Vashya Shontine, it is time for you to go back with me to the front!”

VASHYA
: You see, Doctor? You see?

DR. FRELICH
: Yes. I think I see.

VASHYA
: How vividly she imagines these
things—you
see?

DR. FRELICH
: I think it would be a good idea if Lady Shontine would come to my office tomorrow morning where we can discuss things more thoroughly. You see these psychoses, Sir Vashya, require a very careful and extensive probing . . .

VASHYA
[
quickly
]: That’s impossible. You’ll have to talk to her here. In my house. You see, in her present condition I can’t very well allow her to leave.

LADY SHONTINE
: No, he won’t let me go out! I am his prisoner here! He knows that I know too much. He’s afraid that I will tell. No, Vashya. I won’t tell a thing. It is only the men, the soldiers, that can harm you now!

DR. FRELICH
: Lady Shontine, nobody can harm your husband.

VASHYA
: Yes, tell her that!

DR. FRELICH
: You must put these fears out of your
mind—your
husband is safe, perfectly safe! Do you understand?

VASHYA
: Yes!

LADY SHONTINE
: Yes. He is much TOO safe. That is why the soldiers, the dead ones, keep coming back here to see him. They think he is much TOO SAFE!

VASHYA
:
There—you
see!

DR. FRELICH
: If we could talk for a while . . .

PHILLIP
: Beg pardon, Sir. The Prime Minister wishes to see you.

VASHYA
[
with satisfaction
]: Tell him to wait!

PHILLIP
: Yes, Sir.

DR. FRELICH
[
in surprise
]: The Prime
Minister—Lord
Huntington?

VASHYA
: Yes, he comes to see
me—Vashya
! I told him that I couldn’t go out so he comes here to see me. I don’t go out very much anymore.

LADY SHONTINE
: No, he’s afraid to go out.

VASHYA
: Afraid? Ridiculous!

DR. FRELICH
: You must understand, Lady Shontine, that your husband is a very valuable man to his country. His life must be safeguarded at all costs to his personal convenience.

LADY SHONTINE
: Yes. He is the national butcher.

VASHYA
[
distractedly
]: Stop! She’s got to stop saying those things! What will people think if
they—?

LADY SHONTINE
: They know. It isn’t a secret anymore. The dead men have told them all. They’ve spread the whole story abroad, they’ve shouted it from the rooftops, Vashya. Your
name—the
national
butcher—the
butcher of the world! And they won’t stop, Vashya, you can’t make them stop, you
can’t—!

VASHYA
: Hush, damn you!

DR. FRELICH
: Sir Vashya!

LADY SHONTINE
[
in a frenzy
]: No, they won’t stop! They’ll come
back for you again tonight and tomorrow night and the night after that! And finally they’ll get you! Yes! YOU SHALL MARCH TO THE FRONT WITH THEM, VASHYA!!

VASHYA
: Get out of here, you! Get out of here! [
With difficulty he controls himself
.] Excuse me, Doctor. I forget sometimes. I’m just a peasant at heart, and
she—she
drives me crazy! Why do I have to be tortured at a time like this by a woman that’s out of her senses? Doctor, if you can cure her I’ll pay you fifty thousand. Do you hear? A hundred thousand! Only bring her back to her senses. . . .

DR. FRELICH
: I can talk to her now, if you wish.

VASHYA
: Yes. Take her out of here. The next room. In there.

DR. FRELICH
: Will you come, Lady Shontine?

LADY SHONTINE
: Yes, Doctor. You have kind eyes. Yes, I’ll go.

VASHYA
: Remember, Doctor, whatever she
says—the
woman is out of her mind. [
A pause as they exit
.] Show Lord Huntington in.

PHILLIP
: Yes, sir.

LORD HUNTINGTON
: Sir Vashya.

VASHYA
: I’m glad you’ve come. PHILLIP! Search him. [
Phillip frisks him
.]

LORD HUNTINGTON
: Is this customary?

VASHYA
: Yes. We make no exceptions. You may go, Phillip! Where’s the rest of ‘em?

LORD HUNTINGTON
: The cabinet will come a little later. I wanted to talk to you first privately.

VASHYA
: Yes?

LORD HUNTINGTON
: Sir Vashya, we’re entering the sixth year of the war.

VASHYA
: Yes?

LORD HUNTINGTON
: It’s gone on and on. Our country’s exhausted. So are all the others. The thing has got to stop!

VASHYA
: So?

LORD HUNTINGTON
[
pausing
]: I’ve come to you.

VASHYA
: To me?

LORD HUNTINGTON
: Yes, to you.

VASHYA
: Well, that’s very flattering. In the next room, Lord Huntington, is an eminent mental specialist. He’s visiting my wife. She’s been having hallucinations lately. I recommend him highly. Perhaps he could be of benefit in your case.

LORD HUNTINGTON
[
with hardly-controlled fury
]: It’s well known, Sir Vashya, how you’ve treated your wife.

VASHYA
: Meaning?

LORD HUNTINGTON
: Meaning it doesn’t become you very well as
a—gentleman—to
be flippant at her expense.

VASHYA
: Huh! You aristocrats stick together against me, eh? Me, Vashya, the peasant! You even presume to tell me how I should manage my wife.

LORD HUNTINGTON
: Be careful!

VASHYA
: Careful? I’ve never been careful. Why should I be careful with you? I could grind you under my heel! But why do I let myself get worked up like this over your little bunch of pedigreed fleas? I don’t know. Sometimes I remember how it was twenty, thirty years
ago—then
I feel like I want to spit in your faces! All of you! This is my
time—not
yours! I am dealing out the cards now!

LORD HUNTINGTON
[
quietly
]: Not
now—not
any longer, Vashya.

VASHYA
: No?

LORD HUNTINGTON
: No, Vashya, your hand is played out.

VASHYA
: Played out is it? Since when!

LORD HUNTINGTON
: Quite recently. I’ve gotten some information about
your—your
secret activities.

VASHYA
: You’ll explain at once or apologize!

LORD HUNTINGTON
: Don’t get excited. I’ve come here to talk things over quietly.

VASHYA
: I won’t mince words with you. Huntington, the government you represent is under my thumb. You can’t afford to be insolent to me. D’you know who I am?