The First Man
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Eugene O\'Neill >> The First Man
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"THE FIRST MAN"
A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS
BY EUGENE O'NEILL
CHARACTERS
CURTIS JAYSON
MARTHA, his wife
JOHN JAYSON, his father, a banker
JOHN, JR., his brother
RICHARD, his brother
ESTHEE (MRS. MARK SHEFFIELD), his sister
LILY, his sister
MRS. DAVIDSON, his father's aunt
MARK SHEFFIELD, a lawyer
EMILY, JOHN JR.'S wife
RICHARD BIGELOW
A MAID
A TRAINED NURSE
TIME--The Present
SCENES
ACT I
Living-room in the house of CURTIS JAYSON, Bridgetown, Conn.--an
afternoon in early Fall.
ACT II
CURTIS' study--morning of the following day.
ACT III
The same--three o'clock in the morning of a day in early spring of
the next year.
ACT IV
Same as Act I--three days later.
ACT I
SCENE--Living-room of CURTIS JAYSON'S house in Bridgetown, Conn.
A large, comfortable room. On the left, an arm-chair, a big open
fireplace, a writing desk with chair in far left corner. On this
side there is also a door leading into CURTIS' study. In the rear,
center, a double doorway opening on the hall and the entryway.
Bookcases are built into the wall on both sides of this doorway.
In the far right corner, a grand piano. Three large windows
looking out on the lawn, and another arm-chair, front, are on this
right side of the room. Opposite the fireplace is a couch, facing
front. Opposite the windows on the right is a long table with
magazines, reading lamp, etc. Four chairs are grouped about the
table. The walls and ceiling are in a French gray color. A great
rug covers most of the hardwood floor.
It is around four o'clock of a fine afternoon in early fall.
As the curtain rises, MARTHA, CURTIS and BIGELOW are discovered.
MARTHA is a healthy, fine-looking woman of thirty-eight. She does
not appear this age for her strenuous life in the open has kept
her young and fresh. She possesses the frank, clear, direct
quality of outdoors, outspoken and generous. Her wavy hair is a
dark brown, her eyes blue-gray. CURTIS JAYSON is a tall, rangy,
broad-shouldered man of thirty-seven. While spare, his figure
has an appearance of rugged health, of great nervous strength held
in reserve. His square-jawed, large-featured face retains an eager
boyish enthusiasm in spite of its prevailing expression of
thoughtful, preoccupied aloofness. His crisp dark hair is graying
at the temples. EDWARD BIGELOW is a large, handsome man of thirty-
nine. His face shows culture and tolerance, a sense of humor, a
lazy unambitious contentment. CURTIS is reading an article in some
scientific periodical, seated by the table. MARTHA and BIGELOW are
sitting nearby, laughing and chatting.
BIGELOW--[Is talking with a comically worried but earnest air.] Do
you know, I'm getting so I'm actually afraid to leave them alone
with that governess. She's too romantic. I'll wager she's got a
whole book full of ghost stories, superstitions, and yellow-
journal horrors up her sleeve.
MARTHA--Oh, pooh! Don't go milling around for trouble. When I was
a kid I used to get fun out of my horrors.
BIGELOW--But I imagine you were more courageous than most of us.
MARTHA--Why?
BIGELOW--Well, Nevada--the Far West at that time--I should think a
child would have grown so accustomed to violent scenes--
MARTHA--[Smiling.] Oh, in the mining camps; but you don't suppose
my father lugged me along on his prospecting trips, do you? Why, I
never saw any rough scenes until I'd finished with school and went
to live with father in Goldfield.
BIGELOW--[Smiling.] And then you met Curt.
MARTHA--Yes--but I didn't mean he was a rough scene. He was very
mild even in those days. Do tell me what he was like at Cornell.
BIGELOW--A romanticist--and he still is!
MARTHA--[Pointing at CURTIS with gay mischief.] What! That sedate
man! Never!
CURTIS--[Looking up and smiling at them both affectionately--
lazily.] Don't mind him, Martha. He always was crazy.
BIGELOW--[To CURT--accusingly.] Why did you elect to take up
mining engineering at Cornell instead of a classical degree at the
Yale of your fathers and brothers? Because you had been reading
Bret Harte in prep. school and mistaken him for a modern realist.
You devoted four years to grooming yourself for another outcast of
Poker Flat. [MARTHA laughs.]
CURTIS--[Grinning.] It was you who were hypnotized by Harte--so
much so that his West of the past is still your blinded New
England-movie idea of the West at present. But go on. What next?
BIGELOW--Next? You get a job as engineer in that Goldfield mine--
but you are soon disillusioned by a laborious life where six-
shooters are as rare as nuggets. You try prospecting. You find
nothing but different varieties of pebbles. But it is necessary to
your nature to project romance into these stones, so you go in
strong for geology. As a geologist, you become a slave to the
Romance of the Rocks. It is but a step from that to anthropology--
the last romance of all. There you find yourself--because there is
no further to go. You win fame as the most proficient of young
skull-hunters--and wander over the face of the globe, digging up
bones like an old dog.
CURTIS--[With a laugh.] The man is mad, Martha.
BIGELOW--Mad! What an accusation to come from one who is even now
considering setting forth on a five-year excavating contest in
search of the remains of our gibbering ancestor, the First Man!
CURTIS--[With sudden seriousness.] I'm not considering it any
longer. I've decided to go.
MARTHA--[Starting--the hurt showing in her voice.] When did you
decide?
CURTIS--I only really came to a decision this morning. [With a
seriousness that forces BIGELOW'S interested attention.] It's a
case of got to go. It's a tremendous opportunity that it would be
a crime for me to neglect.
BIGELOW--And a big honor, too, isn't it, to be picked as a member
of such a large affair?
CURTIS--[With a smile.] I guess it's just that they want all the
men with considerable practical experience they can get. There are
bound to be hardships and they know I'm hardened to them. [Turning
to his wife with an affectionate smile.] We haven't roughed it in
the queer corners for the last ten years without knowing how it's
done, have we, Martha?
MARTHA--[Dully.] No, Curt.
CURTIS--[With an earnest enthusiasm.] And this expedition IS what
you call a large affair, Big. It's the largest thing of its kind
ever undertaken. The possibilities, from the standpoint of
anthropology, are limitless.
BIGELOW--[With a grin.] Aha! Now we come to the Missing Link!
CURTIS--[Frowning.] Darn your Barnum and Bailey circus lingo, Big.
This isn't a thing to mock at. I should think the origin of man
would be something that would appeal even to your hothouse
imagination. Modern science believes--knows--that Asia was the
first home of the human race. That's where we're going, to the
great Central Asian plateau north of the Himalayas.
BIGELOW--[More soberly.] And there you hope to dig up--our first
ancestor?
CURTIS--It's a chance in a million, but I believe we may, myself--
at least find authentic traces of him so that we can reconstruct
his life and habits. I was up in that country a lot while I was
mining advisor to the Chinese government--did some of my own work
on the side. The extraordinary results I obtained with the little
means at my disposal convinced me of the riches yet to be
uncovered. The First Man may be among them.
BIGELOW--[Turning to MARTHA.] And you were with him on that Asian
plateau?
MARTHA--Yes, I've always been with him.
CURTIS--You bet she has. [He goes over and puts his hand on his
wife's shoulder affectionately.] Martha's more efficient than a
whole staff of assistants and secretaries. She knows more about
what I'm doing than I do half the time. [He turns toward his
study.] Well, I guess I'll go in and work some.
MARTHA--[Quietly.] Do you need me now, Curt?
BIGELOW--[Starting up.] Yes, if you two want to work together, why
just shoo me--
CURTIS--[Puts both hands on his shoulders and forces him to his
seat again.] No. Sit down, Big. I don't need Martha now. [Coming
over to her, bends down and kisses her--rather mockingly.] I
couldn't deprive Big of an audience for his confessions of a fond
parent.
BIGELOW--Aha! Now it's you who are mocking at something you know
nothing about. [An awkward silence follows this remark.]
CURTIS--[Frowning.] I guess you're forgetting, aren't you, Big?
[He turns and walks into his study, closing the door gently behind
him.]
MARTHA--[After a pause--sadly.] Poor Curt.
BIGELOW--[Ashamed and confused.] I had forgotten--
MARTHA--The years have made me reconciled. They haven't Curt. [She
sighs--then turns to BIGELOW with a forced smile.] I suppose it's
hard for any of you back here to realize that Curt and I ever had
any children.
BIGELOW--[After a pause.] How old were they when--?
MARTHA--Three years and two--both girls. [She goes on sadly.] We
had a nice little house in Goldfield. [Forcing a smile.] We were
very respectable home folks then. The wandering came later, after--
It was a Sunday in winter when Curt and I had gone visiting some
friends. The nurse girl fell asleep--or something--and the
children sneaked out in their underclothes and played in the snow.
Pneumonia set in--and a week later they were both dead.
BIGELOW--[Shocked.] Good heavens!
MARTHA--We were real lunatics for a time. And then when we'd
calmed down enough to realize--how things stood with us--we swore
we'd never have children again--to steal away their memory. It
wasn't what you thought--romanticism--that set Curt wandering--
and me with him. It was a longing to lose ourselves--to forget. He
flung himself with all his power into every new study that
interested him. He couldn't keep still, mentally or bodily--and I
followed. He needed me--then--so dreadfully!
BIGELOW--And is it that keeps driving him on now?
MARTHA--Oh, no. He's found himself. His work has taken the place
of the children.
BIGELOW--And with you, too?
MARTHA--[With a wan smile.] Well, I've helped--all I could. His
work has me in it, I like to think--and I have him.
BIGELOW--[Shaking his head.] I think people are foolish to stand
by such an oath as you took--forever. [With a smile.] Children are
a great comfort in one's old age, I've tritely found.
MARTHA--[Smiling.] Old age!
BIGELOW--I'm knocking at the door of fatal forty.
MARTHA--[With forced gaiety.] You're not very tactful, I must say.
Don't you know I'm thirty-eight?
BIGELOW--[Gallantly.] A woman is as old as she looks. You're not
thirty yet.
MARTHA--[Laughing.] After that nice remark I'll have to forgive
you everything, won't I? [LILY JAYSON comes in from the rear. She
is a slender, rather pretty girl of twenty-five. The stamp of
college student is still very much about her. She rather insists
on a superior, intellectual air, is full of nervous, thwarted
energy. At the sight of them sitting on the couch together, her
eyebrows are raised.]
LILY--[Coming into the room--breezily.] Hello, Martha. Hello, Big.
[They both get up with answering "Hellos."] I walked right in
regardless. Hope I'm not interrupting.
MARTHA--Not at all.
LILY--[Sitting down by the table as MARTHA and BIGELOW resume
their seats on the lounge.] I must say it sounded serious. I heard
you tell Big you'd forgive him everything, Martha. [Dryly--with a
mocking glance at BIGELOW.] You're letting yourself in for a large
proposition.
BIGELOW--[Displeased but trying to smile it off.] The past is
never past for a dog with a bad name, eh, Lily? [LILY laughs.
BIGELOW gets up.] If you want to reward me for my truthfulness,
Mrs. Jayson, help me take the kids for an airing in the car. I
know it's an imposition but they've grown to expect you. [Glancing
at his watch.] By Jove, I'll have to run along. I'll get them and
then pick you up here. Is that all right?
MARTHA--Fine.
BIGELOW--I'll run, then. Good-by, Lily. [She nods. BIGELOW goes
out rear.]
MARTHA--[Cordially.] Come on over here, Lily.
LILY--[Sits on couch with MARTHA--after a pause--with a smile.]
You were forgetting, weren't you?
MARTHA--What?
LILY--That you'd invited all the family over here to tea this
afternoon. I'm the advance guard.
MARTHA--[Embarrassed.] So I was! How stupid!
LILY--[With an inquisitive glance at MARTHA'S face but with
studied carelessness.] Do you like Bigelow?
MARTHA--Yes, very much. And Curt thinks the world of him.
LILY--Oh, Curt is the last one to be bothered by anyone's morals.
Curt and I are the unconventional ones of the family. The trouble
with Bigelow, Martha, is that he was too careless to conceal his
sins--and that won't go down in this Philistine small town. You
have to hide and be a fellow hypocrite or they revenge themselves
on you. Bigelow didn't. He flaunted his love-affairs in everyone's
face. I used to admire him for it. No one exactly blamed him, in
their secret hearts. His wife was a terrible, straitlaced
creature. No man could have endured her. [Disgustedly.] After her
death he suddenly acquired a bad conscience. He'd never noticed
the children before. I'll bet he didn't even know their names. And
then, presto, he's about in our midst giving an imitation of a wet
hen with a brood of ducks. It's a bore, if you ask me.
MARTHA--[Flushing.] I think it's very fine of him.
LILY--[Shaking her head.] His reform is too sudden. He's joined
the hypocrites, I think.
MARTHA--I'm sure he's no hypocrite. When you see him with the
children--
LILY--Oh, I know he's a good actor. Lots of women have been in
love with him. [Then suddenly.] You won't be furious if I'm very,
very frank, will you, Martha?
MARTHA--[Surprised.] No, of course not, Lily.
LILY--Well, I'm the bearer of a message from the Jayson family.
MARTHA--[Astonished.] A message? For me?
LILY--Don't think that I have anything to do with it. I'm only a
Victor record of their misgivings. Shall I switch it going? Well,
then, father thinks, brother John and wife, sister Esther and
husband all think that you are unwisely intimate with this same
Bigelow.
MARTHA--[Stunned.] I? Unwisely intimate--? [Suddenly laughing with
amusement.] Well, you sure are funny people!
LILY--No, we're not funny. We'd be all right if we were. On the
contrary, we're very dull and deadly. Bigelow really has a
villainous rep. for philandering. But, of course, you didn't know
that.
MARTHA--[Beginning to feel resentful--coldly.] No, I didn't--and I
don't care to know it now.
LILY--[Calmly.] I told them you wouldn't relish their silly
advice. [In a very confidential, friendly tone.] Oh, I hate their
narrow small-town ethics as much as you do, Martha. I sympathize
with you, indeed I do. But I have to live with them and so, for
comfort's sake, I've had to make compromises. And you're going to
live in our midst from now on, aren't you? Well then, you'll have
to make compromises, too--if you want any peace.
MARTHA--But-compromises about what? [Forcing a laugh.] I refuse to
take it seriously. How anyone could think--it's too absurd.
LILY--What set them going was Big's being around such an awful lot
the weeks Curt was in New York, just after you'd settled down
here. You must acknowledge he was-very much present then, Martha.
MARTHA--But it was on account of his children. They were always
with him.
LILY--The town doesn't trust this sudden fond parenthood, Martha.
We've known him too long, you see.
MARTHA--But he's Curt's oldest and best friend.
LILY--We've found they always are.
MARTHA--[Springing to her feet--indignantly.] It's a case of evil
minds, it seems to me--and it would be extremely insulting if I
didn't have a sense of humor. [Resentfully.] You can tell your
family, that as far as I'm concerned, the town may--
LILY--Go to the devil. I knew you'd say that. Well, fight the good
fight. You have all my best wishes. [With a sigh.] I wish I had
something worth fighting for. Now that I'm through with college,
my occupation's gone. All I do is read book after book. The only
live people are the ones in books, I find, and the only live life.
MARTHA--[Immediately sympathetic.] You're lonely, that's what,
Lily.
LILY--[Drily.] Don't pity me, Martha--or I'll join the enemy.
MARTHA--I'm not. But I'd like to help you if I could. [After a
pause.] Have you ever thought of marrying?
LILY--[With a laugh.] Martha! How banal! The men I see are enough
to banish that thought if I ever had it.
MARTHA--Marriage isn't only the man. It's children. Wouldn't you
like to have children?
LILY--[Turning to her bluntly.] Wouldn't you?
MARTHA--[ Confused. ] But--Lily--
LILY--Oh, I know it wasn't practicable as long as you elected to
wander with Curt--but why not now when you've definitely settled
down here? I think that would solve things all round. If you could
present Father with a grandson, I'm sure he'd fall on your neck.
He feels piqued at the John and Esther families because they've
had a run of girls. A male Jayson! Aunt Davidson would weep with
joy. [Suddenly.] You're thirty-eight, aren't you, Martha?
MARTHA--Yes. LILY--Then why don't you--before it's too late?
[MARTHA, struggling with herself, does not answer. LILY goes on
slowly.] You won't want to tag along with Curt to the ends of the
earth forever, will you? [Curiously.] Wasn't that queer life like
any other? I mean, didn't it get to pall on you?
MARTHA--[As if confessing it reluctantly.] Yes--perhaps--in the
last two years.
LILY--[Decisively.] It's time for both of you to rest on your
laurels. Why can't Curt keep on with what he's doing now--stay
home and write his books?
MARTHA--Curt isn't that kind. The actual work--the romance of it--
that's his life.
LILY--But if he goes and you have to stay, you'll be lonesome--
[meaningly] alone.
MARTHA--Horribly. I don't know what I'll do.
LILY--Then why--why? Think, Martha. If Curt knew--that was to
happen--he'd want to stay here with you. I'm sure he would.
MARTHA--[Shaking her head sadly.] No. Curt has grown to dislike
children. They remind him of--ours that were taken. He adored
them so--he's never become reconciled.
LILY--If you confronted Curt with the actual fact, he'd be
reconciled soon enough, and happy in the bargain.
MARTHA--[Eagerly.] Do you really think so?
LILY--And you, Martha--I can tell from the way you've talked that
you'd like to.
MARTHA--[Excitedly.] Yes, I--I never thought I'd ever want to
again. For many years after they died I never once dreamed of it--
But lately--the last years--I've felt--and when we came to live
here--and I saw all around me--homes--and children, I--[She
hesitates as if ashamed at having confessed so much.]
LILY--[Putting an arm around her--affectionately.] I know.
[Vigorously.] You must, that's all there is to it! If you want my
advice, you go right ahead and don't tell Curt until it's a fact
he'll have to learn to like, willy-nilly. You'll find, in his
inmost heart, he'll be tickled to death.
MARTHA--[Forcing a smile.] Yes, I--I'll confess I thought of that.
In spite of my fear, I--I've--I mean--I--[She flushes in a shamed
confusion.]
LILY--[Looking at her searchingly.] Why, Martha, what--[Then
suddenly understanding--with excited pleasure.] Martha! I know! It
is so, isn't it? It is!
MARTHA--[In a whisper.] Yes.
LILY--[Kissing her affectionately.] You dear, you! [Then after a
pause.] How long have you known?
MARTHA--For over two months. [There is a ring from the front door
bell in the hall.]
LILY--[Jumping up.] I'll bet that's we Jaysons now. [She runs to
the door in the rear and looks down the hall to the right.] Yes,
it's Esther and husband and Aunt Davidson. [She comes back to
MARTHA laughing excitedly. The MAID is seen going to the door.]
The first wave of attack, Martha! Be brave! The Young Guard dies
but never surrenders!
MARTHA--[Displeased but forcing a smile.] You make me feel
terribly ill at ease when you put it that way, Lily. [She rises
now and goes to greet the visitors, who enter. MRS. DAVIDSON is
seventy-five years old--a thin, sinewy old lady, old-fashioned,
unbending and rigorous in manner. She is dressed aggressively in
the fashion of a bygone age. ESTHER is a stout, middle-aged woman
with the round, unmarked, sentimentally--contented face of one who
lives unthinkingly from day to day, sheltered in an assured
position in her little world. MARK, her husband, is a lean, tall,
stooping man of about forty-five. His long face is alert, shrewd,
cautious, full of the superficial craftiness of the lawyer mind.
MARTHA kisses the two women, shakes hands with MARK, uttering the
usual meaningless greetings in a forced tone. They reply in much
the same spirit. There is the buzz of this empty chatter while
MARTHA gets them seated. LILY stands looking on with a cynical
smile of amusement. MRS. DAVIDSON is in the chair at the end of
table, Ieft, ESTHER sits by MARTHA on couch, MARK in chair at
front of table.] Will you have tea now or shall we wait for the
others?
ESTHER--Let's wait. They ought to be here any moment.
LILY--[Maliciously.] Just think, Martha had forgotten you were
coming. She was going motoring with Bigelow. [There is a dead
silence at this--broken diplomatically by SHEFFIELD.]
SHEFFIELD--Where is Curt, Martha?
MARTHA--Hard at work in his study. I'm afraid he's there for the
day. SHEFFIELD--[Condescendingly.] Still plugging away at his
book, I suppose. Well, I hope it will be a big success.
LILY--[Irritated by his smugness.] As big a success as the brief
you're writing to restrain the citizens from preventing the
Traction Company robbing them, eh Mark? [Before anyone can reply,
she turns suddenly on her aunt who is sitting rigidly on her
chair, staring before her stonily like some old lady in a
daguerreotype--in a loud challenging tone.] You don't mind if I
smoke, Aunt? [She takes a cigarette out of case and lights it.]
ESTHER--[Smiling.] Lily!
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Fixes LILY with her stare--in a tone of
irrevocable decision.] We'll get you married, young lady, and that
very soon. What you need to bring you down to earth is a husband
and the responsibility of children. [Turning her glance to MARTHA,
a challenge in her question.] Every woman who is able should have
children. Don't you believe that, Martha Jayson? [She accentuates
the full name.]
MARTHA--[Taken aback for a moment but restraining her resentment--
gently. ] Yes, I do, Mrs. Davidson.
MES. DAVIDSON--[Seemingly placated by this reply--in a milder
tone.] You must call me aunt, my dear. [Meaningly.] All the
Jaysons do.
MARTHA--[Simply.] Thank you, aunt.
LILY--[As if all of this aroused her irritation--in a nervous
fuming.] Why don't the others come, darn 'em? I'm dying for my
tea. [The door from the study is opened and CURT appears. They all
greet him.]
CURTIS--[Absent-mindedly.] Hello, everybody. [Then with a
preoccupied air to MARTHA.] Martha, I don't want to interrupt you--
but--
MARTHA--[Getting up briskly.] You want my help?
CURTIS--[With the same absent-minded air.] Yes--not for long--just
a few notes before I forget them. [He goes back into the study.]
MARTHA--[Seemingly relieved by this interruption and glad of the
chance it gives to show them her importance to CURT.] You'll
excuse me for a few moments, all of you, won't you? [They all
nod.]
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Rather harshly.] Why doesn't Curt hire a
secretary? That is no work for his wife.
MARTHA--[Quietly.] A paid secretary could hardly give the sympathy
and understanding Curt needs, Mrs. Davidson. [Proudly.] And she
would have to study for years, as I have done, in order to take my
place. [To LILY.] If I am not here by the time the others arrive,
will you see about the tea, Lily--?
LILY--[Eagerly.] Sure. I love to serve drinks. If I were a man,
I'd be a bartender--in Mexico or Canada.
MARTHA--[Going toward the study.] I'll be with you again in a
minute, I hope. [She goes in and shuts the door behind her.]
ESTHER--[Pettishly.] Even people touched by a smattering of
science seem to get rude, don't they?
MRS. DAVIDSON--[Harshly.] I have heard much silly talk of this
being an age of free women, and I have always said it was
tommyrot. [Pointing to the study.] She is an example. She is more
of a slave to Curt's hobbies than any of my generation were to
anything but their children. [Still more harshly.] Where are her
children?
LILY--They died, Aunt, as children have a bad habit of doing.
[Then meaningly.] However, I wouldn't despair if I were you. [MRS.
DAVIDSON stares at her fixedly.]
ESTHER--[Betraying a sudden frightened jealousy.] What do you
mean, Lily? What are you so mysterious about? What did she say?
What--?
LILY--[Mockingly.] Mark, your frau seems to have me on the stand.
Can I refuse to answer? [There is a ring at the bell. LILY jumps
to her feet excitedly.] Here comes the rest of our Grand Fleet.
Now I'll have my tea. [She darts out to the hallway.]
ESTHER--[Shaking her head.] Goodness, Lily is trying on the
nerves. [JAYSON, his two sons, JOHN and DICK, and JOHN's wife,
EMILY, enter from hallway in rear. JAYSON, the father, is a short,
stout, bald-headed man of sixty. A typical, small-town, New
England best-family banker, reserved in pose, unobtrusively
important--a placid exterior hiding querulousness and a fussy
temper. JOHN JUNIOR is his father over again in appearance, but
pompous, obtrusive, purse-and-family-proud, extremely irritating
in his self-complacent air of authority, emptily assertive and
loud. He is about forty. RICHARD, the other brother, is a typical
young Casino and country club member, college-bred, good looking,
not unlikable. He has been an officer in the war and has not
forgotten it. EMILY, JOHN JR.'s wife, is one of those small,
mouse-like women who conceal beneath an outward aspect of gentle,
unprotected innocence a very active envy, a silly pride, and a
mean malice. The people in the room with the exception of MRS.
DAVIDSON rise to greet them. All exchange familiar, perfunctory
greetings. SHEFFIELD relinquishes his seat in front of the table
to JAYSON, going to the chair, right front, himself. JOHN and DICK
take the two chairs to the rear of table. EMILY joins ESTHER on
the couch and they whisper together excitedly, ESTHER doing most
of the talking. The men remain in uncomfortable silence for a
moment.]