ED
Sit still, I’ll bring it.
ED brings in a fresh bottle of whisky and more glasses and pours drinks MR. SMART Holding up his glass Well, here we are, gentlemen. We drink to the honor of your fellow citizen, Mr. Willard, here.
A VOICE
Here’s to Tom.
A VOICE
Here’s to a bigger and better Winesburg.
All drink
MR. SMART
Gentlemen, you ought to be proud to have such a man as Mr. Willard in your town. As the saying goes, Winesburg, Ohio, is going to be put on the map.
ED
Well, I guess Winesburg needs it all right.
TOM
Well, gentlemen, I got to go now. I got a lot of business to attend to. I tell you what, boys, I’m a busy man these days.
He picks up the newspaper from the table Gentlemen, I intended to read you George’s piece in this paper, but you’d better read it yourself.
He throws the newspaper back on the table Boys, you want to be watching the papers now. You can never tell nowadays when George will be writing something. I tell you what, boys, that son of mine is going to go straight up and up. He’s a Willard all right.
ONE OF THE CARD PLAYERS
Well, Winesburg’s got some other smart boys. We got a lot of smart boys in this town.
TOM goes over and takes MR. SMART’S arm. He turns to ED
TOM
Ed, you got a boy of your own now. You do what I did. I saved up money for my boy dollar for dollar. Do you know, Ed, I think sometimes that boy George of mine is kinda stuck on that White girl here in town. You know, Banker White’s daughter.
ED
Oh yeah?
TOM
It would make a good match for her all right, but lemme tell you something, don’t you trust no banker. You bet I didn’t, Ed. When I was saving George’s money for him I kept it hidden away in one of the rooms over in the hotel.
He turns to SMART
Mr. Smart, I was determined that my boy would get a real start in life.
They start for the exit I tell you what, Mr. Smart, my boy George is going to be a big man some day.
TOM leaves, accompanied by SMART, and the card players start to resume their game but suddenly all stop playing and stare, ED, who has crossed over to watch the game, also stares, PARCIVAL appears again. He is in his stocking feet and has taken off his trousers and his shirt collar. He is clad only in a soiled white shirt open down the front and in underdrawers that come to his knees. He has again come noiselessly downstairs and into the room
ED
Great God!
At this moment JOE WELLING bursts into the room from the left front. He is dancing with excitement JOE
Listen, here’s something big. Here’s something important. There’s a fire. The new Willard House is all afire and Hunter’s livery barn has caught. There may be people asleep up in the hotel.
He dashes out and shouts are heard offstage. A bell rings
FARM HAND
People may be burning. —
SECOND FARM HAND
People may be burning in their beds.
ED
The livery stable! The livery stable! Come on, boys. Save the horses. Save the horses.
All rush out and there is heard the ringing of a bell, growing fainter, offstage, and ED’S cry, “Save the horses. Save the horses.” This mingled with cries about saving people from others. The sounds die away and PARCIVAL comes slowly down to the table and stands staring about. He picks up the salt shaker and stands looking at it thoughtfully
PARCIVAL
Salt! Salt! They are all always at it — putting salt in their beer. Salt. Salt is like thought. I got to thinking. I couldn’t sleep. My boat rocked a little too much. I needed another drink or two to steady it. My thoughts crucify me. Thought is the salt in the beer of life. It takes its flavor away.
He puts down the salt shaker. He speaks again Let life alone, Doctor Parcival. Don’t salt it.
He goes to the bottle of whisky ED has left on the table. He sits. There are still two whisky glasses on the table. He holds the bottle for a moment, contemplating it, and then carefully fills two glasses and arises facing the empty stage. He holds one of the glasses in his hand. He bows and speaks Good evening, Doctor Parcival — my Alter Ego.
He makes a movement as though offering a drink to another and bows elaborately and then, with a little flip of his arm, he throws the contents of the glass into the air and bows again Thank you, Alter Ego.
He picks up the other glass and holding it in his hand again bows We are both too wise and too stupid, Alter Ego. In spite of our wisdom we think too much. We get too much in the way of our own dreams. Let’s get back into the boat, Alter Ego.
He drinks and puts the glass back on the table and then makes another wide bow As for these others all of them, God help them all, Alter Ego. They are all caught as we are. They are all Christs and they will all be crucified.
He drops into the chair by the table and begins pouring drinks and swallowing them rapidly as the curtain falls Drown it, man! Drown it.
He is still pouring and swallowing drinks as the curtain descends
THE TRIUMPH OF THE EGG
A DRAMA IN ONE ACT
FROM THE STORY BY THE SAME TITLE DRAMATIZED BY RAYMOND O’NEIL
Courtesy, The Dramatic Publishing Company, Chicago CAST OF
CHARACTERS
in the original production at the Provincetown Theatre
FATHER, JOHN HUSTON
MOTHER, his wife, Jeanie Begg
JOE KANE, John Taylor
TIME: The present. A spring evening.
PLACE: A restaurant near a railroad station.
NOTE
THE LITTLE PLAY, “The Triumph of the Egg,” had its New York production with the Provincetown Players. It was put on as curtain raiser for Eugene O’Neill’s two-act play, “Different.” The play caught the fancy of the audience and was a success.
The Provincetown Players did some things to the setting of the play that I rather liked. The scene of the mother and the child was done offstage, in a room opening off the restaurant, the father standing in the doorway and talking to the mother. The audience never did see the stage child and got the sense of him from the mother’s talk and from the little voice of the child saying his prayers. One of the New York critics spoke of the child as the most satisfactory stage child ever in the New York theatres. You did not have to look at the child being an actor. Your own imagination — you being of the audience — made the child exist. You — being of the audience — recalled perhaps your own childhood. It was very effective and satisfactory.
At the last — by my friend’s, Mr. Raymond O’Neil’s, version of the story — you see the two people, the unsuccessful little restaurant keeper and his wife — they having thrown themselves sobbing on the bed. This ending did a little violate my own conception when I wrote the story. To me the whole point of the play should be that the audience stays balanced between laughter and tears. In the Provincetown Players’ version and after the outburst of ineffectual anger on the part of the father — his throwing the eggs about the room, etc. — he goes behind the restaurant counter. For a moment he stands there, looking about, perplexed, his anger dying, hurt. He sits down on a stool and his head falls into his hands. His elbows are on the counter.
The world, represented by the people passing along the road from the train, goes by the little restaurant. Joe Kane is telling his father about the queer people who run the restaurant. Joe Kane and his father stop a moment by the restaurant door. You hear the voices and the laughter — the talk of other people going up into Bidwell from the train. The poor befuddled restaurant keeper does not raise his head.
The voices pass and silence comes. The voice of the woman, the mother, is heard — a voice full of sympathy now — all the weariness and irritation gone out of it. “Father! Father!”
The father, who has been sitting with h
is head in his hands, half raises his head. Curtain. I do not really know how much of this is from the Provincetown Players’ version, and how much my own imagination has built up since, but of this I am quite sure — to do the little play in this way will gain tremendously in effectualness and will leave the audience, as it should be left, balanced between laughter and tears.
All playing rights to this play belong to the Dramatic Publishing Company, 59 Dearborn Street, Chicago.
SHERWOOD ANDERSON.
THE TRIUMPH OF THE EGG
SCENE: A RESTAURANT. The stage is divided into two sections. The larger, on the right, is the restaurant. There is an entrance in the back wall, to the right. It is summer, and only the screen door across the entrance is closed. In the back wall, about center, is a large window. The street and a street lamp are dimly noticeable through the window and the screen door. A shaded, hanging oil-lamp lights the room. Along the right wall, well downstage, are two small tables with straight chairs, above and below them. They are covered with linen, none too white, and the usual array of salt and pepper shakers, mustard jars, ash trays, and sugar bowls is on each table. Down center is a third table, with two chairs, one right and one left of it, and a similar array of condiments on top of it. Backstage, right and left of the window, are shelves, containing small boxes of cereal, cigars, cigarettes, etc. The counter runs parallel to the back wall and is set far enough out from the wall to allow a person to move about behind it. The right end of the counter, near the outer door, is closed, but the left end of the counter, near the bedroom, is open. There is sufficient room between the left end of the counter and the door to the bedroom for a person to move about without difficulty. On the counter are plates of apples, eggs, and doughnuts, heaped up with no attempt at the decorative. Back of the counter and below it are evidently shelves for dishes, and a hot plate where coffee is kept steaming. The small room to the left is the bedroom. There is an entrance well upstage in the wall which separates the two rooms. There is a second entrance in the left wall, about center. Cheap calico hangings across the wall backstage in the bedroom seem to hide a makeshift clothes closet from view. Downstage, about midway between the two walls of the room, the bed stands with its head offstage. There is a straight chair against the left wall, first below the door, and another straight chair right of the bed, facing it. On the right wall of the bedroom, first below the entrance between the bedroom and the restaurant, there is a battered mirror hanging. There is a small table beneath the mirror. On this same wall, downstage below the mirror, is a bracket light
AT RISE OF CURTAIN:
The FATHER is sitting smoking in the chair left of the bed, tipped back against the wall. FREDDIE is offstage by the bed, being undressed by the MOTHER, who sits on the right side of the bed, her back to the FATHER. She is already in her nightgown, with her hair hanging down her back. Her enunciation is good, but there is a weariness and deadness in her voice which at times rises to angry heights more irascible than unbind. The FATHER pays no attention to her words, but smokes, lost in thought. The CHILD is tired but patient
MOTHER
Well, I don’t know, I’m getting pretty tired of it — we’ve got to get along somehow — can’t always be stick-in-the-muds; To the child Will you hold still and let me get your waist off! Always fussin’ — Suppose we did lose a lot of time in Bidwell — that doesn’t mean anything. We’ve got a good start here, and we’ve got to make something of it. No use getting discouraged the way you’ve been here lately; no use at all.
To the child Will you quit playing with that button! You’ll have it off in a minute, and then I’ll have to sew it on again. That’s the way all of my time goes — just little things. Now, stop your whimpering, or I’ll give you something to whimper for — now, shut up!
She goes on undressing the child It’s the boy, here, I’m worrying about. I don’t suppose we’ll ever get very far, you and me. Now, don’t think I’m nagging you — it ain’t that — but it just ain’t-in us.
To the child Stop that, now! Don’t you ever let me see you pick your nose again! Shame on you!
Pause There ain’t no reason why he shouldn’t be President if he wants to. Why not? Any American boy can be President.
To the child Will you take your finger out of your nose! — any boy can be President that wants to and no matter how poor he is. Look at Lincoln and look at Garfield! Look how they got clear to the top from nothing! They didn’t have any better chance than Freddie, did they, at the start, and look where they got to!
FATHER
Knocking the ashes from his pipe, and speaking thoughtfully, quietly Say, Maw —
MOTHER
Talking on, unheeding Poverty ain’t no crime, and it certainly has helped a lot to make Presidents.
To the child Will you quit that! How many times must I tell you not to push your fingers through tears in your clothes! Goodness sakes! You’ll drive me crazy yet.
FATHER
Refilling his pipe and lighting it again, speaking once more in the same thoughtful, quiet tone Say, Maw —
MOTHER
Talking on, unheeding Now, get into your nightie — come on — I can’t wait all night.
FATHER
Say, Maw!
MOTHER
Not with curiosity Well, what is it?
FATHER
Smoking and speaking mildly and slowly Say Maw — I’ve been thinkin’.
MOTHER
Without interest You have?
FATHER
Yep! I’ve been thinkin’.
A pause as the FATHER smokes
MOTHER
Well, what you’ve been thinking?
FATHER
Maw, I’ve been thinkin’ — I’ve been figgerin’ out a scheme, Maw — great scheme.
MOTHER
What about?
FATHER
Yep, I got a scheme, Maw, got it all figgered out how to get rich — quick — right to the top!
MOTHER
Without interest Oh!
A pause
FATHER
Want to hear my scheme, Maw?
He begins to show excitement and rises MOTHER To the child Say your prayers, now, Freddie. Come on — hurry up.
FREDDIE
Kneels at the right side of the bed; the FATHER subsides into his chair and begins smoking again; the MOTHER sits on the right side of the bed, without much interest in the prayer FREDDIE Offstage “Now I lay me — down to sleep I — pray the Lord — my soul to keep — if I should die — before I wake I — pray the Lor’ my soul t’take — Go’ bless Mamma — Go’ bless Papa — make me a good boy and successful and famous — namen!”
MOTHER
Hurry into bed now and shut your eyes and go right to sleep.
FREDDIE stumbles sleepily to his small bed up left, and the MOTHER puts him in and covers him
FATHER
Say Maw —
MOTHER
What?
She crosses down to the right of the bed again, and sits, facing down right, and starts braiding her hair.
FATHER
Want to hear my scheme?
MOTHER
As she braids her hair Tell it if you feel like it.
FATHER
Taking pipe from mouth and pointing it at her Maw — what gets the flies?
MOTHER
Turning slightly toward — him, — and — speaking over her left shoulder The flies? What flies?
FATHER
The flies — any flies — you know.
MOTHER
Facing down right again, uninterested I don’t know — what gets them?
FATHER
Impressively Not vinegar — M’lasses!
MOTHER
Indifferently Well, I suppose it does.
Pause
FATHER
Well, Maw, that’s my scheme!
MOTHER
What do you mean is your scheme?
FATHER
M’lasses! — ge
t ’em with m’lasses!
MOTHER
Who?
Note: Although the FATHER speaks much, it is done with great effort — many pauses — hopeless feeling around for words. His excitement never makes him loud, but tense and awkward in gesture. Unclear enthusiasm and futility are the keynote of the man.
FATHER
Cust’mers —
With growing excitement Now, look here, Maw. It’s m’lasses gets flies — the flies get the cash. Now, just as soon as we start spreadin’ m’lasses round here, the flies’ll come — we’ll get the cash — we gotta quit bein’ sour on the world — we gotta smile — smile — all the time — we gotta spread the m’lasses — you gotta be m’lasses — I gotta be m’lasses — smile and joke — it’s smiles makes the world go ‘round, Maw — smiles and m’lasses — there ain’t a one big business in the country t’day that ain’t built up outta smiles — M’lasses — jokes — that’s the way to get ’em! Jolly innkeeper — like in the poem in The Blade th’ other day. We haven’t been cheerful enough, Maw; that’s why we ain’t got along. That’s it!
During this following conversation, JOE KANE enters the restaurant. As the screen door opens, it rings a spring bell above it. No one in the next room hears it. JOE walks rather heavily, whistles a little, clears his throat to attract attention. He is not concerned at the lack of attention. He sits at the right of the center table, takes a paper from his pocket and becomes interested in the baseball column, whistling lightly, “Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight.” His two feet are on the lower rungs of his chair, which he has tilted forward on its front legs, balancing himself with his left arm on the table. The FATHER has become so excited he rises and is pacing the floor from right to left above the bed. He does not stop until after the second speech of the MOTHER
FATHER
Quicker’n you can say “Scat,” Maw, we’ll have this place filled day an’ night with all the people in the town — smile at ’em — entertain ’em — make ’em feel at home — that’s what they want— ‘specially the young folks — bright conversation — m’lasses — two years betcha we’ll put on ‘naddition here ‘n have the biggest eatin’ joint in the state! They’ll come here fr’m all over — cheerful — happy — glad. Gotta smile ‘n entertain, Maw — that’s it — m’lasses. I got thinkin’ of this, Maw, doin’ the night trick in the restaurant out there. We gotta be ambitious — gotta have more the American spirit. We gotta get the young folks, the young folks, Maw, that’s it, comin’ down Turner’s Pike to the Junction here from Bidwell every night. They want some place to go. That’s what they walk down here for, the young fellows and their girls. I tell you, they want some place to go. All we gotta do is to smile at ’em an’ entertain ’em an’ we’ll get rich quicker’n that. (He snaps his fingers.) M’lasses, Maw, that’s it!
Complete Works of Sherwood Anderson Page 312