Clyde Fitch

“ Ethel. My dear, she'd die first! [All laugh, saying "Marion".
Mrs. Lorrimer. [Grandiloquently.] Not that I approve of painting! [Music stops.
All. [Laughing.] Oh, no!
Ethel. Nor I!
All. [Laughing.] Oh, no!
Mrs. Lorrimer. Who's here?
Johnstone. Everybody.
Mrs. Lorrimer. Anyone I can marry?
Kitty. Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer, do be decent. You haven't been divorced a year yet.
Mrs. Lorrimer. My dear, divorce isn't like death—you don't have to go into mourning! Besides, that's what I want to get married for! I find I've a perfect passion for divorce! Just like men have it for drink. ”

“ Exit.
Ethel. Of course. [To Kitty, crossing to her.] Do you notice how she won't talk about Fletcher and won't listen to any one else either?
Kitty. My dear, she's heels over head.
Ethel. Poor Douglas Rhodes! [Half smiling, in part satire.
Kitty. Serves him right for hanging around her all his life! Why didn't he flirt with one of us girls for a time, if only to make her jealous! [Ethel sees Douglas enter, and tries to warn Kitty. Ethel gives Kitty a violent pull of the arm to warn her to stop speaking of Douglas.
Ethel. [To Douglas.] You can't stay here; we're driven out. ”

“ Ethel. [Who has looked back over her shoulder into the ball-room, goes up to arch.] Mr. Fletcher has joined Marion.
Mrs. Lorrimer. Oh, that's why Marion wished us to hurry! She wanted this room for herself and Fletcher!
Ethel. Probably.
Mrs. Lorrimer. Let's go—as if we were gone for good, and then stroll back casually in a few minutes, and see how we find them!
Kitty. Isn't that eavesdropping?
Mrs. Lorrimer. Don't be absurd! There isn't any such thing as eavesdropping nowadays. Everybody listens to everything they can, and everyone more or less knows they're being listened to. ”

“ Apart from the question of literature, apart from the question of art, reflect the real thing with true observation and with sincere feeling for what it is and what it represents, and that is art and literature in a modern play. If you inculcate an idea in your play, so much the better for your play and for you—and for your audience. In fact, there is small hope for your play as a play if you haven't some small idea in it somewhere and somehow, even if it is hidden—it is sometimes better for you if it is hidden, but it must of course be integral. ”

“ Kitty. Oh, we've been doing that for years! [Ethel blows Douglas' whistle which he has suspended from neck, pulling it out of his pocket. Ethel and Kitty smile coquettishly at Douglas and exit into ball-room, arm in arm. Distant music off stage. Douglas follows up centre. A pause. Enter Marion. Douglas, up stage, looks admiringly at her, and smiles. Then, smiling and putting himself into a boyish attitude, he says boyishly.
Douglas. Hello, Molly!
Marion. [Smiling back, catching his mood, speaks girlishly.] Hello, Dug! It does take one back to old days, doesn't it! ”

“ Mr. Wolton. A divorce! My God, must I lose everything! Show a little pity, Fred! Remember the old days at school; was I a bad boy? We were chums for years, you know it!—You were my best man when I married Laura, and you were the gayest at the wedding! It's only been this curse of gambling with the stocks that has driven me to the devil,—that and my cursed luck.
Dawson. Luck has nothing to do with honour.
Mr. Wolton. You don't know—oftener than you think, it has everything! [Enter Servant. [Pg 548]
Servant. Supper is ready, sir. Can we have this room?
Dawson. Yes, Howes, I'm going! ”

“ Clyde Fitch brought a vivacity to the American stage that no other American playwright has thus far succeeded in emulating. The total impression of his work leads one to believe that he also brought to the American stage a style which was at the same time literary and distinctly his own. His personality was interesting and lovable, quickly responsive to a variety of human nature. No play of his was ever wholly worthless, because of that personal equation which lent youth and spontaneity to much of his dialogue. ”

“ I am naturally not always believed in, and I do not always make myself clear. Sometimes I think I am misunderstood through laziness. To give one instance, of one or the other: in a recent play of mine, 'The Climbers', something which I meant to be psychologically true was taken to be a theatrical trick. A man who was dishonest in business, but who loved his wife with the really strong love that such weak natures are capable of, is asked to look that wife in the face and, before a group of angry friends and relatives, confess the extent of his crime, his disgrace! ”

“ Marion. My love—for him. [Sits on sofa.] The blow he struck Jeannette fell on my heart and killed my love. A man who would strike a woman will do most anything,—and think where he did it, and why? Because she was pleading and fighting for the rights of his child!
Mrs. Lorrimer. I am glad, dear, you can take it so calmly.
Marion. [Calmly.] Oh, no, it isn't exactly that—I am reasonable; I see I've escaped a great misery and I'm grateful— [Enter Servant.] But I suffer terribly, for the moment I close my eyes, I see only the dreadful scene of yesterday.
Servant. Mr. Fletcher, ma'am.
Mrs. Lorrimer. ”

“ And doubly he couldn't with the to him cruel environment of the outraged circle holding back the sympathy of his wife from him. He would feel and cry out to her, 'Let me tell you alone, if I must tell it, and in the dark, in the dark!' when he could not see the heart-breaking shame grow upon her face, nor see his own guilty face reflected in her eyes. The end of this sentence he would reiterate, grasping it, too, on the impulse, as a means to put off the ordeal. 'In the dark,—later in the dark', he would tell her everything. But there is no time to be lost if a public scandal is to be averted. ”

“ Douglas. You must help me to get rid of all the guests!
Mrs. Lorrimer. To get rid— [Interrupted.
Douglas. [Interrupting.] Mr. Wolton has committed suicide.
Mrs. Lorrimer. [Starts and shudders; speaks very rapidly.] Mr.—how awful! What are you going to do? You can't tell the people now. What in the world did the man mean by not waiting till the party was over! If it isn't like you men! Your own comfort before anybody else's.—Well—the only thing is to pretend it hasn't happened at all—make some excuse for Marion and her mother—the guests needn't know anything about it,—and finish the party! ”

“ Fanshaw crosses to table.
Ethel. [Who goes back to Mrs. Lorrimer.] Wasn't it awful yesterday—in the church! [Crosses.
Mrs. Lorrimer. [With a sigh.] Awful. [Rises and crosses to centre.
Ethel. [Kneeling, with one knee on the sofa.] Still, I will say one thing, I've always been dying to have it happen.
Mrs. Lorrimer. Ethel! What a little beast you are.
Fanshaw. Oh, she didn't mean to Marion particularly. Did you, Ethel?
Ethel. No; if I had my choice I'd rather see it happen to Kitty; she's always pretending she's so sincere and all that.
Mrs. Lorrimer. Marion is well rid of a man like Fletcher. ”

“ Fletcher, I want a long talk with you to-night before you go.
Fletcher. Very well, sir. [Dawson sighs heavily and exits. Servant leaves door open. The two, Marion and Fletcher, hear the door shut behind them, and make a movement; they realize they are alone. A heavy front door slams. Lights out. There is silence. Taking Marion in his arms.] My poor little girl!—My poor little girl!—Cry, for God's sake, cry!
Marion. [With an outburst.] Oh, it is so horrible! [She sobs loud and hysterically in Fletcher's arms, her own arms about his neck.] —so—horrible—
Curtain.
ACT II.
Scene. ”

“ Marion. People say a great many things that aren't true. What can a man do with all the world against him! "People" can force him into being as bad as they say he is.
Fletcher. Then you won't believe them.
Marion. No, not if you deny what they say. [He holds out his hand; she takes it. At this moment, Mrs. Lorrimer and [Pg 555] Ethel appear in ball-room, ostentatiously counting the chairs and making small calculation about the cotillion, but really watching slyly Marion and Fletcher. Marion sees it and speaks to Fletcher quickly under her breath.] ”

“ Fletcher. With Miss Wolton's permission, I will announce our engagement to-night, in spite of you, and her father. [Music stops. Enter Mrs. Lorrimer, with a favour, lamb and trumpet.
Mrs. Lorrimer. Oh, here you men are! If you think this is going to be allowed, you are very much mistaken! What do men think we ask them to parties for? Eh? Anyway, a cotillion is a leap-year dance; on such an occasion you are our natural prey! Come, sir! [Pretending to blow trumpet.
Douglas. No. [Smiling apologetically.] ”

“ Fanshaw. If he's honestly sorry, he's no business marrying Marion Wolton.
Johnstone. Why not?
Fanshaw. He has a debt to be paid. He can't wash his hands of the kind of things he's done; if he were in earnest in regretting his old life, he would do something to make up for it.
Johnstone. Well, isn't he? He's going to marry a nice girl and settle down.
Fanshaw. If he were in earnest he'd marry, instead, one of at least two girls I know of—not this one. ”

“ For a letter from Fitch had rare flavour, more personal than his plays but of the same Fitchean quality. It would, as well, be a personal record of the stage, and would set at rest many myths that have floated around his name—such as William Winter wilfully circulated about "Beau Brummell." [A] [Pg 532]
"The Moth and the Flame" is here reproduced because it has never before been issued, and should be made available to the student of American Drama. To say that it is typically Fitchean does not mean that, in technique or in characterization, it is his best. ”

“ Take what strikes you most, in the hope it will interest others. Take what suits you most to do—what perhaps you can do best—and then do it better. Be truthful, and then nothing can be too big, nothing should be too small, so long as it is here, and there! ”

“ But Fitch had the darting eye of a migratory interest. He often didn't "follow through," as they [Pg 531] say in golf. With the result that he is often scored for insufficient motivation. But my knowledge of him makes me realize he felt and saw deeper than his epigrammatic style indicated. His technique was therefore often threadbare in spots,—not of that even mesh which makes of Pinero such an exceptional designer. I would put Fitch's "Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines" above Edward Sheldon's "Romance" for the faithful reproduction of early New York atmosphere. ”

“ What I am trying to do is to reflect life of all kinds as I see it. To write, first, plays that will interest and mean something; and, after that, amuse. I would rather entertain everybody than one body. ”

“ The bridesmaids and ushers take their places, grouped properly about the chancel steps. Marion stands at the centre of chancel rail, where she is joined by Fletcher, the groomsmen standing to one side of him. Dawson stands on the opposite side of Marion. The Clergyman has come forward and stands facing them on the other side of the chancel railing. The guests open their prayer-books with a flutter of the leaves. Marion gives bouquet to Dawson. Music stops for a moment. ”

“ Ethel. And I don't care whether he's bad or not, he's charming enough to make up for it. Besides, I suppose all men are bad.
Kitty. Oh—I don't know.
Ethel. I mean all nice men.
Kitty. Where has Mr. Fletcher been before this winter?
Ethel. My dear, he's one of those men who live all over the place—most of the time in Europe—but he's been here always off and on—and in Newport and in Lenox he has yachts and things, don't you know! [Exits down right.
Marion. [Enters.] Girls, will you go into the ball-room, till the men get the tables ready here? ”

“ Tell her she had the prettiest wedding dress anyway of the season. [She goes to kiss Mrs. Wolton, who draws back. Both Mrs. Wolton and Mrs. Lorrimer are aghast at the flippant manner of Ethel. Ethel raises her eyebrows, shrugs her shoulders.] Good-bye, good-bye. Come along, Fanshaw. [Exit.
Fanshaw. [Crossing to Mrs. Wolton.] Oh, Mrs. Wolton, don't mind Ethel. She doesn't mean what she sounds like. She never does mean what she sounds like. Besides, she's a little rattled this morning. You see she's engaged again.
Mrs. Wolton. Engaged?
Fanshaw. Yes, not to Johnny. I'm it. ”

“ Enter ushers and guests. A new selection is started on the organ and all half rise and turn, but turn back again at once into their places complacently.
Ethel. I think Marion's been getting to be a perfect stick anyway, these last few years, with all the plain covered books she reads and all her "university settlement" stuff in the slums, and her working-girls' clubs and things. But that makes it all the funnier for her to marry a man she's really not known very long, don't you think so?
Gertrude. Where did he come from anyway?
Ethel. Everywhere—which you know is as good as nowhere. ”

“ The idea grew in his mind, and this growth resulted in "The Moth and the Flame," which entered more fully into the "fast" life of a man about town, and the dangerous ignorance of the society girl. Fitch loved to sketch the smart woman, like Mrs. Lorrimer, who, as someone has said, is frivolously constituted, but sharply witty and with some depth of heart. The fancy-dress party scene is autobiographic, he having attended such an occasion at Carroll Beckwith's studio, in New York. ”

“ Organ. Wedding march. Fletcher and his groomsman enter in front of the chancel rails. Guests all rise, showing excitement and turning half-way face off the stage, looking down the centre aisle. Mrs. Wolton and Mrs. Fletcher stand facing the altar. Mrs. Fletcher takes Mrs. Wolton's arm affectionately and holds it tight in friendly sympathy. The faint sound is heard of boys' and men's voices singing with the organ the wedding hymn. ”

“ Marion rises, giving the signal that the entertainment is over. Servants come in and take away most of the chairs, leaving one in centre of stage and three up toward the left centre. All rise and form groups; those of guests near the door move into ball-room and off. Ethel enters, and Marion at once greets her, Kitty and Johnstone joining them. ”