Thomas Wolfe, page 544
major. A woman is a lovely thing, God knows. She is never quite loyal until you are completely beaten.
eugene (Entering in parade uniform). That is the proper time for conquest, Major.
general. They blossom as we die; they grow young again for love of ancient hulk.
(Booming of a great bell in the wind)
What is the time, Eugene?
eugene. It is six o’clock, and through the world, excepting latitudes, the sons of common men are coming from their work.
general. I am deeply moved, Eugene. I beg of you, continue, and say a few words about the dignity of labor.
mrs. ramsay. You seem excited, son.
general. Why, he has just begun to live! The true revolutionary spirit, you know. Never quite happy until things begin to fall. Now, if Samson were only here to pull us down—
eugene. Here are the keys to the barracks, Major. (He gives him a bunch of keys)
major. The buildings are locked?
eugene. Everything is locked, Major.
major (Pompously, forgetting for a moment). Has the cadet corps entrained?
eugene. The cadet corps has entrained, Major—all six of them.
margaret (In a low voice). How could you say a thing like that!
major (Stricken, with averted eyes). And yet—it must go on!
eugene (Quietly). Yes? I want to know why.
margaret (Whispering in his ear). Father, dearest, we are going away together.
eugene (With a burst of passion). For God’s sake, leave him alone, or treat him like a man!
mrs. ramsay (Soothingly, to the general). Wouldn’t you like some nice hot supper?
general. My dear, I think I could understand you if you used long words? (Calling sharply) Tod! (tod appears) That is a bloody sun which sets tonight, but I would look at it once more. Take me out.
(The negro lifts him from his chair and carries him on to the porch)
margaret (To major). Do you need me, dearest?
eugene (With a little gesture). A moment, if you please—
(margaret goes out with mrs. ramsay)
major. That uniform becomes you, ’Gene.
eugene (In a low tone, hoarsely). For God’s sake, don’t.
major. Ah, well, you may take the hated braid and buttons off, now.
eugene. I am very sorry, Major.
major. (In a low voice, as before). And yet, it must go on.
eugene. I believe in endings, Major.
major. Perhaps you need me, ’Gene—more than you know. A foil for your wit; a butt for your jokes; a target for your mockery—a spur to your invention.
eugene. Now that is done, and I am sorry.
major. Not all the folly in the world wears whiskers, ’Gene. (With a great cry) You fools, you fools, you cursed fools. Oh, what a thief is youth. What treachery! What deceit! You steal our wisdom, and curse us for our error! You take our greatness for your own without admission, and foul us with our pettiness! You fools! You will be paid in time! You will grow old, and other fools will mock you!
eugene (Quietly, coldly). Our destiny is ruin and death. I only, of you all, have been faithful to it.
major. You, my son, may be ground up in the wheels at last. (He gets up slowly, painfully) My life, like every life, has drawn breath from prejudice and convention. Now mine are shattered, and I die.
eugene. I salute you. You have been faithful in your fashion.
major (Very old, in a low toneless voice). It must go on!—It must go on! (He goes out slowly, leaning on his cane. It is growing dark. The door to the left is opened and margaret enters)
eugene. You are going?
margaret. I am going.
eugene. That, I think, is best.
(A pause)
margaret. No other word, Eugene?
eugene. Lady, there is no other word.
margaret. One word I used to you one time is—
eugene. Forgotten, lady.
margaret. Then say “forgiven,” ’Gene.
eugene. And why?
margaret. Because my life is dying in the dust without you. (She moves nearer) Oh, little God, I love you. Touch me—put your hand upon me—let me know that you are there. Eugene, my life is withering like unpicked fruit. (She moves toward him) Put your hand upon me, as you did before. Wound me with your language. (She opens her breast for him) Defile me with your touch; soil me; stain me. But tell me you believe I live again.
eugene (Imperceptibly it has grown darker). Margaret, while you were yet alive—(Abruptly) I cannot rescue smoke from ashes. (Quietly, gently) Margaret, I see you in the glimmering dusk; the spectral world is dim beyond you. I stand upon the solid shores of earth; I may not come to where you are; there is mist and void and darkness.
margaret. It is death! death!—oh, take me, ’Gene; hold me, keep me, love me—or I die. Oh, lift me, ’Gene, and save me from the dust and ruin. Your touch will heal me, dearest; you will give me life again.
(Silence save for the merciless drop of water)
eugene. Margaret, the horsemen on the road have gone by forever.
margaret. It is not too late! We may yet be saved! (A pause) You loved me once—(In a tone of fear and wonder)—or did it happen?
eugene. Don’t you remember, ghost[?] Before you died—
margaret (Whispering). Some day—Some day.
eugene. Some day. Who knows? The roads lead back if we go far enough.
margaret (Going). Some day—Please waken me.
eugene (Starting). Margaret! You believe that!
margaret. With all my heart.
(A pause)
eugene (Quietly). Then, which of us is the ghost? Perhaps we live when we believe we dream. I no longer doubt the reality of my life. I no longer expect awakening. Perhaps it is I who have died.
margaret (A small white blot in darkness). Some day—please, please! (She goes)
a thin voice (Faintly, mockingly). Some day. Some day.
(It has grown dark. The general is brought in by tod and seated in his chair)
general (Sharply). Light, Tod. More light!
eugene (From the darkness). No, General. Not more light—more warmth! Men do not die of darkness, but of cold.
general (Grimly ironic). Ah, there, Gibraltar, (tod brings a lamp and puts it on the table) There he is! The only solid thing in all the fog.
eugene. It seems that I have been elected.
general. There was once an old woman who thought she was seized with the Divine Afflatus.
eugene. Yes, General?
general. She was suffering from an intestinal disorder, instead. (Calling) Tod—close the windows. I am cold, (tod enters and closes the windows) And so you think you may escape, Captain.
eugene. We shall escape, General, in spite of you.
general. I tell you, boy, the brand is on you; the steel has sunken deep into your soul. We are of few years and many woes. For us there is no victory—there is only valiance. We are all damned together.
eugene. Yes, General. We are all damned together, but I must insist on my inalienable right to seek out my own particular hell.
general. And where does the pilgrim go?
eugene. Beyond the gates where men are; and down to the sea perhaps; and up the steep hill to God.
general. Why, come—this is knighthood with a vengeance. He goes out with a hole in one pocket, and brimstone in the other.
eugene. Thank you. Its a true balance.
general. And if he’s wise, he’ll ride a donkey—a horse would never understand him.
eugene. Again, I thank you. My ears are too long to care for grace.
general. For you, my son, there is no escape. You will come back and dig the ruins.
(A knocking at the door; porter, with his birdlike nod and wink, stands at the threshold, flensing the back of his terrible hand)
(Sharply) Who is it?
eugene (In a low voice). It is Porter.
general (Grimly, in a low voice). A vulture looks best in the dark.
eugene (Going to the door). Yes, Porter?
porter (With a nod and a wink). Evenin’.
general (Genially). Come in, Porter. I am dying. Give the gentleman a chair, Eugene.
(porter is seated at the table, in half darkness, opposite the general)
porter (Awkwardly, uneasily). I was right sorry to hear, Mister Ramsay—
general (Laughing good-humoredly). Sorry! Pshaw! Will you listen to the man? Sorry for what? Come, man. It’s not every day that you can see a gentleman die.
porter. Yes, sir—Now, about that timber of your’n—
general. Ah, yes, the timber. Tell me, Porter—are there enough trees in my forests to timber me a coffin?
porter (With his birdlike nod and wink). Enough fer us all, I reckon, Mister Ramsay.
general. Enough for us all. For you, too, Porter?
porter. Fer me, too.
general. Ah, that is strange. So we’ll be housed in the same wood at the end—we two?
porter (Flensing his hand, and gazing around at the walls of the room with a queer meditative smile). Yes, Mister Ramsay. I reckon we will be. Housed in the same wood at the end.
eugene (Harshly). You are quite mistaken, Porter.
porter (Flensing his hand, with a terrible contorted smile). Yes, sir. A mighty fine house, yet, Mister Ramsay.
general (Softly, bending forward a little). The house? But we have said nothing about the house, Porter.
eugene (Sharply). Your business, Porter? My father is not well.
general (Waving a thin hand). Oh, come! This is unseemly! You must not hurry a guest in this fashion. Besides—an old friend of the family—Porter, you must pardon him.
porter. Hit’s about that land o’ your’n, Mister Ramsay.
eugene (Impatiently). But that has all been settled, Porter. My father has agreed to sell.
general (Waving a deprecating hand). Eugene, I beg of you—You are wronging the intentions of our honored friend. I see it plainly:—Porter had discovered that the land is rich in gold, or oil, or coal, or platinum, or lapis-lazuli—Being, like Brutus, an honorable man, he has come to inform us; to invite us to share in the profits.
porter (Nervously, clearing his throat). No, Mister Ramsay. Hit’s the papers.
general. The papers! Ah, yes. There would be papers, wouldn’t there?
eugene. Tomorrow, Porter. My father is not well tonight.
general. No, no! He comes in good season—better than you know. You have the true prophetic gift, Porter.
eugene (In a low tone). What do you mean, General?
porter (With an intent smile, staring at the general). Yes, Mister Ramsay.
general (Softly). Some birds will hover, waiting for—well, to our business, then.
(porter draws a creased and folded paper from his pocket, and smooths it carefully with his blunt hands, on his knees)
general (Triumphantly). The papers! No play should be without them!
porter. Hit needs yore name—
general (To eugene, with triumph). Do you hear, Gibraltar?
porter. To do hit legal.
general (Taking the paper). By all means, let it be done legal. (Reading carelessly) “Party of the first . . . party of the second” . . . Oh, yes. There always are, aren’t there? H’m! Yes. Perfectly regular. I am sure. (Reading) “And further, it is understood that the boundaries of the said tract shall be defined”—
eugene (Quickly). Father—tomorrow!
general. No, but I will! (Reading) “On the North, three miles along Rand’s Creek, between Old Mill and Potter’s Bridge; thence southwest a distance of five and three-eighths miles to the Painted Rock, along the near or eastern border of Hominy Road”—(Pushing the paper away. With a great cry) Oh, my kingdom, my kingdom!
porter (Flensing his hand).—To do hit legal.
eugene (Harshly). Be silent, Porter.
general (Reading farther).—“And moreover it is agreed that, beginning on the near, or south side of the Fairview Pike, the land extending east from the Painted Rock to the Junction of the Fairview Pike, with the Burnsville Road, three-fifths of a mile, and ascending southward a quarter of a mile to the summit of Skyland hill”—
eugene (Desperately). Father!
general (Implacably).—“and including upon its premises certain buildings, as quarters for servants, spring houses, stables, and the residence of sixteen rooms at its summit, known as”—
eugene. General! The House, the House! My God, you never told me that.
general (Sternly). Give me the pen, Eugene.
eugene. General—the House! You can’t!
general. Give me the pen, Eugene.
(A pause)
porter. Funny, mebbe, ’bout all this. But hit’s got to be. Hit’s Progress!
general (Waving a transparent hand gently). And now the man has learned another word. It is, of course, a very fine word. Not only the world gets better, but all the people in it. In its essence it is the cult of pity for one’s grandfather. (In the same tone as before; inflexible, unyielding,) The pen, the pen, Eugene. Give me the pen.
eugene (Desperately as before). General—The House—But why?
general. It must go on, Eugene.
eugene (Turning toward porter with a puzzled, futile gesture of the hands). To this? To this: Go on to this?
general. Here is my only hope of permanence. By God, it shall continue; under filthy and unspeakable hands it shall continue if it must. But it shall continue. Go your ways, boy. Go your ways. Our truce is almost done. Eugene, I say it shall continue!
eugene (In a voice without intonation). Rebel! Rebel! You have not known me for my ancient loyalty; and I believe in endings, nothing more.
general. The pen.
(eugene wets a pen and gives it to the general)
eugene. Yes, General.
general (scrawling laboriously). In good season, Porter. In very good season.—Yet, how easily it is done. And thus I sign my abdication; your rights as heir-apparent. Where is your kingdom now, my boy?
eugene (Coldly, triumphantly). Throughout the whole wide world, I have lost a kingdom, and gained an empire. The bargain is good.
general. Inheritor of smoke and dreams! We are all damned together!
porter (Giving the paper to eugene). Now you sign your’n.
eugene. And why, Porter?
porter. To do hit legal—witness hit.
eugene (Signing). It is witnessed, Porter.
(porter refolds the paper carefully, puts in his purse, and rises)
porter. Yore money will be in the bank tomorrow, Mister Ramsay.
general. Why, that is splendid, Porter.
porter (Flensing his hand). I ain’t so fine as some folks, mebbe, but I pay up prompt.
general. Porter, you have all the successful virtue and none of the gentlemanly ones. You were small today; you will be great tomorrow.
porter (Grinning). “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."
general. They always did—six feet of it.
porter (Slowly). Next time I see ye—
general (Softly). Next time? Then you had not heard, Porter?
porter (Puzzled). No, sir.
general. I am going away—on a journey.
eugene (Desperately). Father—don’t!
(A pause)
porter (Flensing his hand, his face contorted suddenly with terrible malevolence). You’re an old man.
eugene (With a fierce movement towards the man). By God, you—
general (Sharply). Stop!
porter (With a cry high in his throat). I’ve paid ye now! I’ve paid ye for hit all!
eugene. You had better go, I think.
porter (In a low voice, suddenly). He was a fool! A fool! (A slight pause) They’re all damned fools at twenty.
general (As from a revery, far off). And are you still there, Judas?
eugene. Get out! Get out!
porter (Muttering, moving backward slowly). I’ll be goin’.
general (Coming to with a start). What! You must go so soon! But stay—stay for a little as my guest, Porter. They are going to light some candles presently.
porter (Shortly). Good night to both of ye!
general (With a resigned manner). Oh well, then, if you must—give the gentleman your hand, Eugene.
eugene (Turning away with a desperate movement). General—don’t!
general (Softly). “And we hold that all men are, or ought to be”—
eugene. In God’s name, General!
general (Sharply). Captain! I command!
eugene (Quietly). You are quite right. There is yet a truce. Here is my hand, Porter. (He gives it to him)
general (Gently). How touching! One of our brothers! Tell the gentleman you are very glad he called, Eugene.
eugene (Steadily). I am very glad you called, Porter.
general. Tell him—
eugene (Writhing). General!
general (Sternly). Tell him that he must come to visit us again.
eugene. You must come to visit us again, Porter.
general. Often.
eugene. Often, Porter.
general. Now show him to the door.
(eugene goes to the door with porter, who turns, still with his contorted smile, and pauses for a moment)
eugene (In a low voice). Remember, Porter, that for you, too, there can be no victory. We are all damned together.
porter. There’s timber enough fer us both, Mister Ramsay.
(He goes quickly into the darkness)
eugene (Returning). I have heard that it takes all kinds to make a world.
general. Generally there is room for only one kind at a time. Go tell your mother to come here.
(eugene goes)
(Calling) Tod! (The negro enters) We are delivered into the hands of the barbarians.
tod (Bending swiftly over his master, pointing to the door and darkness). Kill!
general. Not yet, my boy. We do these things too clumsily. Let us give God a chance, (tod goes out. In a moment mrs. ramsay comes in softly) Are you there, my dear?
mrs. ramsay. Yes. You sent for me?
general. Come closer, into the light. (She advances) How young you are tonight!
mrs. ramsay (Hardly audible). Don’t, my dear.
general. I cannot come to you as I did once. Will you kneel here at my chair, where I may look at you? (She sinks slowly on her knees before him, within the dim circle of light which the lamp gives) “So we’ll go no more a-roving, / So late into the night.”
