GER. [Drily.] And you'll ride him.
HAGEN. And I'll ride him. [Laughs.]
GER. [After a pause.] At first I couldn't make out why you bothered
with this Society game. Now I begin to understand. You wanted to see
them!
HAGEN. I wanted to watch them wriggle! I wanted to take them, one by
one, and strip off their shams! Take that fellow Rutherford, the steel
man! Or Plimpton, the coal baron, casting his eyes up to heaven, and
singing psalms through his nose! The instant I laid eyes on that
whining old hypocrite, I hated him; and I vowed I'd never rest again
till I'd shown him as he is . . . a coward and a knave! And I tell
you, Gerald, before I get through with him . . . Ah, there he is!
PLIM. [Off.] Hello, Isman!
HAGEN. Come. [Draws back with GERALD.]
IS. [Entering, right, with PLIMPTON and RUTHERFORD.] Any word yet?
PLIM. Nothing yet!
RUTH. Such a night as this has been!
IS. If the thing keeps up today the Exchange will have to close . . .
there will be no help for it.
PLIM. We are in the hands of a madman!
RUTH. We must have a conference with him . . . we must find out what
he wants.
IS. Did you speak to him, Plimpton?
PLIM. I tried to. I might as well have butted my head against a stone
wall. "I have money," he said, "and I wish to buy and sell stocks.
Isn't that my right?"
RUTH. He's a fiend! A fiend!
PLIM. He smiled as he shook my hand . . . and he knows that if coal
stocks go down another ten points I'll be utterly ruined!
IS. Terrible! Terrible!
PLIM. [To RUTHERFORD.] Rutherford, have you learned any more about
where his money comes from?
RUTH. I meant to tell you . . . I've had another report. The mystery
deepens every hour. It's always the same thing . . . the man takes a
train and goes out into the country; he gathers all the wagons for
miles around, and goes to some place in the woods . . . and there is a
pile of gold, fifty tons of it, maybe, covered over with brush. Nobody
knows how it got there, nobody has time to ask. He loads it into the
wagons, takes it aboard the train, and brings it to the Sub-treasury.
IS. The man's an alchemist! He's been manufacturing it and getting
ready.
RUTH. Perhaps. Who can tell? All I know is the Sub-treasury has bought
over two billion dollars' worth of gold bullion in the last four
months . . . and what can we do in the face of that?
PLIM. No wonder that prices went up to the skies!
RUTH. I had the White House on the 'phone this afternoon. We can
demonetize gold . . . the government can refuse to buy any more.
IS. But then what would become of credit?
PLIM. [Vehemently.] No, no . . . that will not help! [Gazes about
nervously.] There's only one thing. [Whispers.] That man must be
killed!
RUTH. [Horrified.] Ah!
IS. No.
PLIM. Just that! Nothing else will help! And instantly . . . or it
will be too late.
IS. Plimpton!
PLIM. He must not be alive when the Exchange opens this morning!
RUTH. But how?
PLIM. I don't know . . . but we must find a way! We owe it as a public
duty . . . the man is a menace to society. Rutherford, you are with me?
RUTH. By God! I am!
IS. You're mad!
PLIM. You don't agree with me?
IS. It's not to be thought of! You're forgetting yourself, Plimpton .
. . ,
PLIM. [Gazing about.] This is no place to discuss it. But I tell you
that if there is no support from London . . .
RUTH. [Starting.] Come . . . perhaps there may be word! [They start
left.] We may beat them yet . . . who can tell?
[PLIMPTON, RUTHERFORD and ISMAN go off.]
HAGEN. [Emerges with GERALD from shadows, shaking with laughter.] Hat
ha! ha! Love and self-sacrifice! You see, Gerald!
GER. Yes . . . I see! [Looks right . . . then starts violently.] My
sister!
HAGEN. Ah !
GER. What does this mean?
HAGEN. [To ESTELLE, who enters, right, evidently agitated.] Miss Isman!
EST. My father said . . .
HAGEN. Yes. Won't you sit down?
EST. [Hesitatingly.] Why . . . I suppose so . . .
HAGEN. [To GERALD.] Will you excuse us, please, Gerald?
GER. [Amazed.] Why, yes . . . but Estelle . . .
EST. [In a faint voice.] Please go, Gerald.
GER. Oh! very well. [Exit, left.]
EST. You wished to see me.
HAGEN. Yes. [Sitting opposite.] How do you like it all?
EST. It is very beautiful.
HAGEN. Do you really think so?
EST. [Wondering.] Don't you?
HAGEN. No.
EST. Truly ?
HAGEN. No.
EST. Then why did you do it?
HAGEN. To please you.
EST. [Shrinks.] Oh!
HAGEN. [Fixes his gaze on her, and slowly leans across table; with
intensity.] Haven't you discovered yet that you are mine?
EST. [Half rising.] Prince Hagen!
HAGEN. How long will it be before you know it?
EST. How dare you?
HAGEN. Listen. I am a man accustomed to command. I have no time to
play with conventions . . . I cannot dally and plead. But I love you.
I cannot live without you! And I will shake the foundations of the
world to get you!
EST. [Staring, fascinated; whispers.] Prince Hagen!
HAGEN. All this . . . [waving his hand] I did in the hope that it
would bring you here . . . so that I might have a chance to tell you.
Simply for that one purpose. I have broken the business world to my
will . . . that also was to make you mine!
EST. [Wildly.] You have ruined my father!
HAGEN. Your father has played this game, and his path is strewn with
the rivals he has ruined. He knows that, and you know it. Now I have
played the game; and I have beaten him. It took me one day to bring
him down . . . [Laughs.] It will take me less time to put him back
again.
EST. But why, why?
HAGEN. Listen, Estelle. I came to this civilization of yours, and
looked at it. It seemed to me that it was built upon knavery and fraud
. . . that it was altogether a vile thing . . . rotten to the core of
it! And I said I would smash it, as a child smashes a toy; I would
toss it about . . . as your brother the poet tosses his metaphors. But
then I saw you, and in a flash all that was changed. You were
beautiful . . . you were interesting. You were something in the world
worth winning . . . something I had not known about before. But you
stood upon the pinnacle of Privilege . . . you gathered the clouds
about your head. How should I climb to you?
EST. [Frightened.] I see!
HAGEN. I came to your home . . . I was turned from the door. So I set
to work to break my way to you.
EST. I see!
HAGEN. And that is how I love you. You are all there is in the game to
me. I bring the world and lay it at your feet. It is all yours. You do
not like what I do with it, perhaps. Very well . . . take it and do
better. The power is yours for the asking! P
ower without end! [He
reaches out his arms to her; a pause.] You do not like my way of love-
making, perhaps. You find me harsh and rude. But I love you. And
where, among the men that you know, will you find one who can feel for
you what I feel . . . who would dare for you what I have dared? [Gazes
at her with intensity.] Take your time. I have no wish to hurry you.
But you must know that, wherever you go, my hand is upon you. All that
I do, I do for the love of you.
EST. [Weakly.] I . . . you frighten me!
HAGEN. All the world I lay at your feet! You shall see.
PLIM. [Off left.] Prince Hagen!
HAGEN. [Starting.] Ah!
PLIM. [Enters, running, in great agitation, with a telegram.] Prince
Hagen!
HAGEN. Well?
PLIM. I have a report from London. The market has gone all to pieces!
HAGEN. Ah!
PLIM. Pennsylvania coal is down twenty-five points in the first half
hour. I'm lost . . . everything is lost!
RUTH. [Running on.] Prince Hagen! Steel is down to four! And the Bank
of England suspends payments! What...
PLIM. What do you want with us? What are you trying to do?
RUTH. [Wildly.] You've crushed us! We're helpless, utterly helpless !
PLIM. Have you no mercy? Aren't you satisfied when you've got us down?
RUTH. Are you going to ruin everybody? Are you a madman?
PLIM. What are you trying to do? What do you want?
HAGEN. [Has been listening in silence. Suddenly he leaps into action,
an expression of furious rage coming upon his face. His eyes gleam,
and he raises his hand as if to strike the two.] Get down on your
knees!
PLIM. Ha!
RUTH. What?
HAGEN. [Louder.] Get down on your knees! [PLIMPTON sinks in horror.
PRINCE HAGEN turns Upon RUTHERFORD.] Down!
RUTH. [Sinking.] Mercy!
HAGEN. [As they kneel before him, his anger vanishes; he steps back.]
There! [Waving his hand.] You asked me what I wanted? I wanted this .
. . to see you there . . . upon your knees! [To spectators, who appear
right and left.] Behold!
RUTH. Oh! [Starts to rise.]
HAGEN. [Savagely.] Stay where you are! . . . To see you on your knees!
To hear you crying for mercy, which you will not get! You pious
plunderers! Devourers of the people! Assassins of women and helpless
children! Who made the rules of this game . . . you or I? Who cast the
halo of righteousness about it . . . who sanctified it by the laws of
God and man? Property! Property was holy! Property must rule! You
carved it into your constitutions . . . you taught it in your
newspapers, you preached it from your pulpits! You screwed down wages,
you screwed up prices . . . it must be right, because it paid! Money
was the test . . . money was the end! You were business men! Practical
men! Don't you know the phrases? Money talks! Business is business!
The gold standard . . . ha, ha, ha! The gold standard! Now someone has
come who has more gold than you. You were masters . . . now I am the
master! And what you have done to the people I will do to you! You
shall drink the cup that you have poured out for them . . . you shall
drink it to the dregs!
PLIM. [Starting to rise.] Monster!
HAGEN. Stay where you are! Cringe and grovel and whine! [Draws a
Nibelung whip from under his coat.] I will put the lash upon your
backs! I will strip your shams from you . . . I will see you as you
are! I will take away your wealth, that you have wrung from others!
Before I get through with you you shall sweat with the toilers in the
trenches! For I am the master now! I have the gold! I own the
property! The world is mine! You were lords and barons . . . you ruled
in your little principalities! But I shall rule everywhere . . .
every- thing . . . all civilization! I shall be king! King! [With
exultant gesture.] Make way for the king! Make way for the king!
CURTAIN
ACT IV
[The scene shows a spacious room, fitted with luxurious rusticity. To
the right of centre are a couple of broad windows, leading to a
veranda. In the corner, right is a table, with a telephone. In the
centre of the room is a large table, with a lamp and books, and a
leather arm-chair at each side. To the left of centre is a spacious
stone fireplace, having within it a trap door opening downward. At the
left a piano with a violin upon it. There are exposed oak beams;
antlers, rifles, snowshoes, etc., upon the walls. Entrances right and
left.]
[At rise: CALKINS, standing by the desk, arranging some papers.]
CALKINS. [As 'phone rings.] Hello! Yes, this is the Isman camp. Prince
Hagen is staying here. This is his secretary speaking. No, Prince
Hagen does not receive telephone calls. No, not under any
circumstances whatever. It doesn't make any difference. If the
President of the United States has anything to say to Prince Hagen,
let him communicate with Mr. Isman at his New York office, and the
message will reach him. I am sorry . . . those are my instructions.
Good-bye. [To HICKS, who enters with telegram.] Hicks, for the future,
Prince Hagen wishes all messages for him to be taken to my office.
That applies to letters, telegrams . . . everything.
HICKS. Very good, sir. [Exit.]
CAL. [Opening a telegram.] More appeals for mercy.
HAGEN. [Enters from veranda, wearing white flannels, cool and alert.]
Well, Calkins?
CAL. Nothing important, sir.
HAGEN. The market continues to fall?
CAL. Copper is off five points, sir.
HAGEN. Ah !
CAL. The President of the United States tried to get you on the 'phone
just now.
HAGEN. Humph! Anything else?
CAL. There has been another mob on Fifth Avenue this morning. They
seem to be threatening your palace.
HAGEN. I see. You wrote to the mayor, as I told you?
CAL. Yes, sir.
HAGEN. Well, you'd best put in another hundred guards. And they're to
be instructed to shoot.
CAL. Yes, sir.
HAGEN. Let them be men we can depend on . . . I don't want any mistake
about it. I don't care about the building, but I mean to make a test
of it.
CAL. I'll see to it, sir.
HAGEN. Anything else?
CAL. A message from a delegation from the National Unemployment
Conference. They are to call tomorrow morning.
HAGEN. Ah, yes. Make a note, please . . . I sympathize with their
purpose, and contribute half a million. [To GERALD, who enters, left.]
Hello, Gerald . . . how are you? Make yourself at home. [To CALKINS.]
I attribute the present desperate situation to the anarchical
struggles of rival financial interests. I am assuming control, and
straightening out the tangle as rapidly as I can. The worst of the
crisis is over . . . the opposition is capitulating, and I expect soon
to order a general resumption of industry. Prepare me an address of
five hundred words . . . sharp and snappy. Then see the head of the
delegation, and have it understood that the affair is not to occupy
more
than fifteen minutes.
CAL. Very good, sir.
HAGEN. And stir up our Press Bureau. We must have strong, conservative
editorials this week . . . It's the crucial period. Our institutions
are at stake . . . the national honor is imperilled . . . order must
be preserved at any hazard . . . all that sort of thing.
CAL. Yes, sir . . . I understand.
HAGEN. Very good. That will be all.
CAL. Yes, sir.
[Exit, right.]
GER. You're putting the screws on, are you?
HAGEN. Humph! Yes. It's funny to hear these financial men . . . their
one idea in life has been to dominate . . . and now they cry out
against tyranny!
GER. I can imagine it.
HAGEN. Here's Plimpton, making speeches about American democracy!
These fellows have got so used to making pretenses that they actually
deceive themselves.
GER. I've noticed that you make a few yourself now.
HAGEN. Yes . . . don't I do it well? [Thoughtfully.] You know, Gerald,
pretenses are the greatest device that your civilization had to teach
me.
GER. Indeed?
HAGEN. We never made any pretenses in Nibelheim; and when I first met
you, your talk about virtue and morality and self-sacrifice was simply
incomprehensible to me. It seemed something quite apart from life. But
now I've come to perceive that this is what makes possible the system
under which you live.
GER. Explain yourself.
HAGEN. Here is this civilization . . . simply appalling in its
vastness. The countless millions of your people, the wealth you have
piled up . . . it seems like a huge bubble that may burst any minute.
And the one device by which it is all kept together . . . is pretense!
GER. Why do you think that?
HAGEN. Life, Gerald, is the survival of the strong. I care not if it
be in a jungle or in a city, it is the warfare of each against all.
But in the former case it's brute force, and in the latter it's power
of mind. And don't you see that the ingenious device which makes the
animal of the slums the docile slave of the man who can outwit him . .
. is this Morality . . . this absolutely sublimest invention, this
most daring conception that ever flashed across the mind of man?
GER. Oh, I see.
HAGEN. I used to wonder at it down there on the Bowery. The poor are a
thousand to your one, and the best that is might be theirs, if they
chose to take it; but there is Morality! They call it their virtue.
And so the rich man may have his vices in peace. By heaven, if that is
not a wondrous achievement, I have not seen one!
GER. You believe this morality was invented by the rich.
HAGEN. I don't know. It seems to be a congenital disease.
GER. Some people believe it was implanted in man by God.
HAGEN. [Shrugging his shoulders.] Perhaps. Or by a devil. Men might
have lived in holes, like woodchucks, and been fat and happy; but now
they have Morality, and toil and die for some other man's delight.
CAL. [Enters, right.] Are you at leisure, sir?
HAGEN. Why?
CAL. Mr. Isman wants you on the 'phone.
HAGEN. Oh! All right . . . [Goes to 'phone.]
GER. [Rises.] Perhaps I . . ,
HAGEN. No, that's all right. [Sits at 'phone.] Hello! Is that Isman?
How are you? [To CALKINS.] Calkins!
CAL. Yes, sir.
[Sits and takes notes.]
HAGEN. How about Intercontinental? [Imperiously.] But I can! I said
the stock was to go to sixty-four, and I want it to go. I don't care
what it costs, Isman . . . let it go in the morning . . . and don't