IS LOVE A FAILURE?

A Serio-Tragi-Comedy

Nib

THE scene is a New York studio in smart Bohemia. As the curtain rises Lily is writing by a low desk light. She finishes her letter and reads, " I am delighted, my dear Edward, that you have so quickly repaired your 'ruined life'—(Edward won't get that 'ruined life': it's too subtle)—your'ruined lite' by discovering a true soul mate. How fortunate that we discovered in time that I was not It and thus . . ." A sharp ring interrupts her. Lily goes to the door. In response to her "Hello, Jack," a young man bursts in. He is visibly agitated and begins striding about the room like the panther at the Zoo.

Jack—Talk about your cutthroats!—safe crackers!—second story men!—baby-killers! —they're not in it with 'em!

Lily—What's the matter? Is anybody dead? Murdered?

Jack—(ignoring her) They'd just as soon break up a man's life as whack a tennis ball!—

Lily—The man's mad! Here {she goes to a side table and hastily pours out a drink). Take this.

Jack—Thanks. Couldn't touch it—state I'm in!—(seizes the glass. A silence) Oh, Lily, you women!

Lily—{relieved) Ah, that! Have another —Now, don't you feel better?

Jack—Yes!—No!—How can I tell? Look here, Lily. Love is a failure! Don't you ever lure a man on to Paradise and then—then slam the gate on him!

Lily—{sinking into sofa cushions) The grand slam! Now what has happened?

Jack—(explosive) What has happened? It

has happened that my life is ruined.

Lily—Oh, chestn—I mean, how terrible! Jack—After a life-long devotion—the whole winter at Aiken, in fact—I've been chucked!

Lily—And you were made for each other, of course.

Jack—Temporarily, yes. Then she began

to act queer—hurt, mysterious.

Lily—I know. Talked about spiritual heights. She wondered— Is Love a Failure?

Jack—That idea. And when sometimes I shirked that sort of thing—moonlight sonatas, Shelley, Yogis, you know—she said I was as material as—as—

Lily—Mutton!

Jack—No. I can't think what the word was —but that wasn't the word that Mabel used. {Lily gives a slight start) Anyway, here's the idiotic ring. (Takes a huge solitaire ring from his pocket and flings it on the table) Ye gods! How I loved that woman!

Lily—(sympathetic) Was it painful?

Jack—I'll never forget the first time I saw her.

The band was playing that old thing — you know. (Hums, bitterly)

Don't trust her smiles,

Don't trust her wiles.

You must not be too exacting,

Don't trust her eyes,

Don't trust her sighs,

She's only a woman—she's acting!

Lily—Yes, but that isn't the tune.

Jack—Why isn't it?

Lily—Why, it's the waltz from "The Girl in the Taxi." Here—wait a moment. (She goes to the piano; plays and sings the same words charmingly)

Jack—By Jove, you're right. (He joins her in singing, leaning over the piano) Play it again, will you, till I get it straight.

(Lily plays the tune once more. Jack sings. Lily joins in. They finish the verse together.)

Lily—(getting up and lighting a cigarette) Well, and then?

Jack—What do you mean "and then?"

Lily—Why, the rest of it—about the gates of Paradise—shutting on your finger.

Jack—Paradise? Oh, yes. (Renewed emotion) Next time I trust a woman! For cold, reptilian cruelty they've got the Borgias and the Uhlans torn out of the books! Why, I'd just ordered a new car and was picking out a honeymoon cottage in Newport when she told me—what d'ye think?—that there was "somebody else."

Lily—With wings?

Jack—Yes. A man. A sublime creature who understood her. A sort of Angel Gabriel in blue serge! Well, she's certainly smashed me all right! (Begins the caged panther business again)

Lily—(sticking a rose in her hair) Do you know what you are going to do now, Jack?

Jack—Yes. I'm going to the devil.

Lily—No, you're going to Topsy's for dinner with me. There'll be dancing and we'll try that new thing—

Jack—The deuce!

Lily—No, the Triple Fox-Trot! It's awfully amusing.

Jack—(forcing a languid interest) Never heard of it. How does it go?

Lily—Three steps to the side—way over, like this. Then trot. Then the man jumps the girl—then three steps back. Then trot. Then a swift turn and kick— So! Come along— try it. It's really awfully easy. (She holds out her hand)

(Jack falls in. They do the dance together. Jack's plainly interested. Lily hums, "Don't trust her smiles, Don't trust her wiles.")

JACK—I don't quite get the turn.

Lily—There's a little trick in it.

Jack—Once more, if you don't mind— there! {They repeat the movement at a quicker pace, winding it up with crescendo spirits. Jack wipes his brow) I say, Lily, you can dance, can't you? If you weren't engaged to Ned Peterson—

Lily—I'm not.

Jack—You're not? Why, when—

Lily—Oh, the other day—or so. I couldn't follow Edward in his flights. A dreamer—too much soul, and soul-mate. A "ruined life!" Poor Edward! He spoke of suicide but he has postponed it as he has found a new divinity— a regular, ravishing, send-your-order-up one this time.

Jack—How idiotic! What's her name?

Lily—Mabel. Mabel Brown.

Jack—(paralyzed) Ma— My— Mabel Brown! Why, that's the girl! Oh, Lord! (Leans weakly against a chair) So Peterson's the paragon!— The Angel Gabriel!—

Lily—(smiling at him and holding out her wraps) But you want to dine, don't you? I'm so hungry.

Jack—(suddenly coming to and enveloping her tenderly in white fur) Well, rather! I'm starved!

(They go out laughing and humming "Don't trust her smiles," etc. A second later Jack dashes back, picks up the ring from the table, pockets it and dashes out again.)