SCENE I

_The curtain rises upon an office scene. Seemingly there is nothing unusual about this office: it has tables, chairs, a filing cabinet, and a hat-rack. A portion of the office is railed off at the right. Within this enclosed space is a commodious desk and swivel-chair; and the filing cabinet stands against the wall. This railed-off portion of the office belongs, exclusively, to the_ JUDGE. _Here he is wont to spend many hours--sometimes to read or write, and again, perhaps, he will just sit and ponder upon the vagaries of mankind. The_ JUDGE _is a tall, spare man with rather long gray hair, which shows beneath the skull-cap that he always wears. When we first see him, he is reading a letter, and evidently he is not pleased, for he is tapping with impatient fingers upon his desk._

_At the left of the stage is a heavily curtained door which leads to an inner room. At centre rear is another door which evidently leads to the street, as it is through this door that the_ POOR MAN, _the_ VAIN WOMAN, _and the_ RICH CITIZEN _will presently enter, each upon his special quest. The hat-rack stands near the street door, and we glimpse a soft black hat and a long black overcoat hanging upon it._

_Down stage to the left is a flat-topped desk, littered with papers and letters. This desk has two large drawers, wherein a number of miscellaneous articles might be kept. It is at this desk that we catch our first glimpse of_ IMP. _He is busily writing in a huge ledger, and he seems to be enjoying his work, for he chuckles the while._ IMP _is a little rogue; he looks it and acts it, and we feel that he has a Mephistophelian spirit. He wears a dark-green tight-fitting uniform, trimmed with red braid. His saucy little round cap is always cocked over one eye. He is ever chuckling impishly, and we feel that he is slyly gleeful over the weaknesses of mankind and the difficulties that beset them._

IMP. [_Throws down his pen, chuckles, and half standing on the rungs of his chair and balancing himself against his desk, surveys the ledger._] Your honor, I've all the miseries listed to date and a fine lot there is to choose from. Everything from bunions to old wives for exchange.

JUDGE. [_Scowls and impatiently taps the letter he is reading._] Here is another one. A woman suspects her husband of a misalliance. Wants to catch him, but is so crippled with rheumatism she can't get about. Wants us to exchange her rheumatism for something that won't interfere with either her walking or her eyesight.

IMP. [_Referring to the ledger and running his finger along the lines._] We have a defective heart or a lazy liver that we could give her.

JUDGE. [_Irritably tossing the letter over to_ IMP.] She would not be satisfied. People never are. They always want to change their miseries, but never their vices. Each thinks his own cross heavier than others have to bear, but he is very willing to make light of his own weaknesses and shortcomings. He thinks they are not half so bad as his neighbor's. I have tried for years to aid distressed humanity, but I can't satisfy them. I am growing tired of it all, Imp. People need a lesson and they're going to get it, too. I am going to----

[_Knock is heard at the street door._ JUDGE _sighs, turns to his desk and begins to write_. IMP _sweeps the litter of papers on his desk into a drawer, closes ledger, and goes to answer knock_.

IMP. Here comes another misery.

[IMP _opens the door to admit the_ POOR MAN, _who is very shabbily dressed. He hesitates, looks around the room as if he were in the wrong place, and then addresses_ IMP _in a loud whisper_.

POOR MAN. [_Indicating the_ JUDGE _with a motion of his head_.] Is that him?

IMP. [_Whispering loudly his reply._] Yes, that is his honor.

POOR MAN. [_Still whispering and showing signs of nervousness._] Do I dare speak to him?

IMP. [_Enjoying the situation and still whispering._] Yes, but be careful what you say.

POOR MAN. [_Takes off his hat, approaches slowly to the railing, and speaks humbly._] Your honor. I--[_Swallows hard, clears throat._] Your honor, I've a little favor--to ask of you.

JUDGE. [_Looking coldly at the_ POOR MAN.] Well?

POOR MAN. You see, your honor, I've been poor all my life. I've never had much fun. I don't ask for a lot of money, but--I would like enough so that I could have some swell clothes, and--so that I could eat, drink, and be merry with the boys. You know, I just want to have a good time. Do you think you could fix it for me, Judge?

JUDGE. [_Gazes at him sternly for a moment._] So you just want to have a good time? Want me to take away your poverty? I suppose you have no moral weakness you want to change, no defects in your character that you want to better?

POOR MAN. [_Stammering and twirling his hat._] Why, w-hy, Judge, I--I am not a bad man. Of--of course, I have my faults, but then--I've never committed any crimes. I guess I stack up pretty fair as men go. I'm just awful tired of being poor and never having any fun. Couldn't you help me out on that point, Judge?

JUDGE. [_Sighs wearily and turns to_ IMP.] Bring me the ledger.

[IMP _gives him the ledger in which he has been writing_. JUDGE _opens it, and then speaks sharply to the_ POOR MAN.

JUDGE. You understand, do you, my good man, that if I take away your poverty and give you enough money for your good time, you will have to accept another misery?

POOR MAN. [_Eagerly._] Yes, your honor, that's all right. I'm willing.

JUDGE. [_Scanning ledger._] Very well. Let us see. Here is paralysis.

POOR MAN. [_Hesitatingly._] Well. I--I couldn't have a--very good time, if--if I was paralyzed.

JUDGE. [_Shortly._] No. I suppose not. How about a glass eye?

POOR MAN. [_Anxiously._] Please, your honor, if I'm going to have a good time I need two good eyes. I don't want to miss anything.

JUDGE. [_Wearily turning over the leaves of the ledger._] A man left his wife here for exchange, perhaps you would like her.

POOR MAN. [_Shifting from one foot to the other and nervously twirling his hat._] Oh, Judge, oh, no, please, no. I don't want anybody's old cast-off wife.

JUDGE. [_Becoming exasperated._] Well, choose something, and be quick about it. Here is lumbago, gout, fatness, old age, and----

IMP. [_Interrupting, and walking quickly over to the railing._] Excuse me, Judge, but maybe the gentleman would like the indigestion that Mr. Potter left when he took old Mrs. Pratt's fallen arches.

POOR MAN. [_Eagerly._] Indigestion? Sure! That will be fine! I won't mind a little thing like indigestion if I can get rid of my poverty.

JUDGE. [_Sternly._] Very well. Raise your right hand. Repeat after me: "I swear to accept indigestion for better or for worse as my portion of the world's miseries, so help me God."

POOR MAN. [_Solemnly._] "I swear to accept indigestion for better or for worse as my portion of the world's miseries, so help me God."

JUDGE. [_To_ IMP.] Show this gentleman to the changing-room.

[POOR MAN _follows_ IMP, _who conducts him to the heavily curtained door. The_ POOR MAN _throws out his chest and swaggers a bit, as a man might who had suddenly come into a fortune_. IMP _swaggers along with him_.

IMP. Won't you have a grand time, though. I'll get you a menu card, so that you can be picking out your dinner.

POOR MAN. [_Joyfully slapping_ IMP _on the back_.] Good idea, and I'll pick out a regular banquet.

[_Pausing a moment before he passes through the curtains, he smiles and smacks his lips in anticipation. Exit._

JUDGE. [_Speaks disgustedly to_ IMP.] There you are! He's perfectly satisfied with his morals. Has no defects in his character. Just wants to have a good time.

[_Sighs heavily and turns back to his writing._ IMP _nods his head in agreement and chuckles slyly_.

[_The street door opens slowly and the_ VAIN WOMAN _stands upon the threshold. She does not enter at once, but stands posing--presumably she desires to attract attention, and she is worthy of it. She has a superb figure, and her rich gowning enhances it. Her fair face reveals a shallow prettiness, but the wrinkles of age are beginning to leave telltale lines upon its smoothness. As_ IMP _hurries forward to usher her in, she sweeps grandly past him to the centre of the stage_. IMP _stops near the door, with his hands on his hips, staring after her, then takes a few steps in imitation of her. She turns around slowly and, sauntering over to the railing, coughs affectedly, and as the_ JUDGE _rises and bows curtly, she speaks in a coaxing manner_.

VAIN WOMAN. Judge, I have heard that you are very kind, and I have been told that you help people out of their troubles, so I have a little favor to ask of you.

JUDGE. [_Coldly._] Yes, I supposed so; go on.

VAIN WOMAN. [_Archly._] Well, you know that I am a famous beauty; in fact, both my face and my form are considered very lovely. [_She turns around slowly that he may see for himself._] Great and celebrated men have worshipped at my feet. I simply cannot live without admiration. It is my very life. But, Judge [_plaintively_], horrid wrinkles are beginning to show in my face. [_Intensely._] Oh, I would give anything, do anything, to have a smooth, youthful face once more. Please, oh, please, won't you take away these wrinkles [_touching her face with her fingers_] and give me something in their stead.

JUDGE. [_Looking directly at her and speaking coldly._] Are you satisfied with yourself in other ways? Is your character as beautiful as your face? Have you no faults or weaknesses that you want exchanged?

VAIN WOMAN. [_Uncertainly._] Why, I--don't know what you mean. I am just as good as any other woman and lots better than some I know. I go to church, and I subscribe to the charities, and I belong to the best clubs. [_Anxiously._] Oh, please, Judge, it's these wrinkles that make me so unhappy. Won't you exchange them? You don't want me to be unhappy, do you? Please take them away.

JUDGE. [_Wearily looking over the ledger._] Oh, very well, I'll see what I can do for you. [_To_ IMP.] Fetch a chair for this lady.

[IMP _gives her a chair and she sits facing front_. IMP _returns to his desk, perches himself upon it and watches the_ VAIN WOMAN _interestedly_. JUDGE _turns over the leaves of the ledger_.

JUDGE. I have a goitre that I could exchange for your wrinkles.

VAIN WOMAN. [_Protestingly, clasping her hands to her throat._] Oh, heavens, no! That would ruin my beautiful throat. See. [_Throwing back her fur and exposing her neck in a low-cut gown._] I have a lovely neck. [IMP _makes an exaggerated attempt to see_.

JUDGE. [_Glances coldly at her and then scans ledger again._] Well, how about hay-fever?

VAIN WOMAN. [_Reproachfully._] Oh, Judge, how can you suggest such a thing! Watery eyes and a red nose, the worst enemy of beauty there is. I simply couldn't think of it. I want something that won't show.

JUDGE. [_Disgustedly turns to filing cabinet and looks through a series of cards, withdraws one, and turns back to_ VAIN WOMAN.] Perhaps this will suit you. [_Refers to card._] A woman has grown very tired of her husband and wants to exchange him for some other burden.

VAIN WOMAN. [_Indignantly._] What! I accept a man that some other woman doesn't want! Certainly not! I prefer one that some other woman does want.

JUDGE. [_Irritated, puts the card back in its place, and turns upon the_ VAIN WOMAN _crossly_.] I fear that I cannot please you and I do not have time to----

IMP. [_Interrupts and runs over to the railing, speaking soothingly to the_ JUDGE.] Excuse me, Judge, but maybe the lady would like deafness in exchange for her wrinkles. Deafness wouldn't show, so it couldn't spoil her face or her elegant figure.

JUDGE. [_Wearily._] No, it won't show. Deafness ought to be a good thing for you.

VAIN WOMAN. [_Consideringly._] Why--yes--that might do. But--well, it wouldn't show. I've a notion to take it. [_Pause--she seems to consider and meditate. The_ JUDGE _stares at her coldly_. IMP _grins impudently. She rises leisurely, sighs._] All right. I'll accept it.

JUDGE. [_Sharply._] Hold up your right hand. [_She raises hand._] Do you swear to accept deafness for better or for worse, as your portion of the world's miseries, so help you God?

VAIN WOMAN. [_Sweetly._] Oh, yes. I do, Judge.

JUDGE. [_To_ IMP.] Show the lady to the changing-room.

IMP. [_Escorts her to the curtained door with rather mock deference._] No, deafness won't show at all, and you'll have 'em all crazy about you. [_Draws aside curtains for her to pass._] Take second booth to your right.

[VAIN WOMAN _stands posing a moment. She smiles radiantly and pats her cheeks softly with her hands, then with a long-drawn sigh of happiness, she exits._ IMP _bows low and mockingly after her vanishing form, his hand on his heart_.

JUDGE. [_Sarcastically._] Do her faults or shortcomings trouble her? Not at all! Perfectly satisfied with herself, except for a few wrinkles in her face. Vain women! Bah!

IMP. Yes, sir; women have queer notions.

[_An imperative rap at the street-door, immediately followed by the rapper's abrupt entrance. We see an important-appearing personage. His arrogant bearing and commanding pose lead us to believe that he is accustomed to prompt attention. It is the_ RICH CITIZEN, _exceedingly well groomed. His manner is lordly, but he addresses the_ JUDGE _in a bored tone. When_ IMP _scampers to meet him, the_ RICH CITIZEN _hands him his hat and cane and turns at once to the_ JUDGE. IMP _examines the hat and cane critically, hangs them on the hat-rack, and returns to his desk, where he again perches to watch the_ RICH CITIZEN.

RICH CITIZEN. [_Lighting a cigarette._] I am addressing the Judge, am I not?

JUDGE. [_Shortly._] You are.

RICH CITIZEN. [_Languidly, between puffs of his cigarette._] Well, Judge, life has become rather boresome, so I thought I would drop in and ask you to do me a small favor.

JUDGE. [_Wearily._] Yes? We--What is your grievance?

RICH CITIZEN. [_Nonchalantly._] Oh, I wouldn't say grievance exactly. You see, my dear Judge, it is this way. I am a very rich and influential citizen, a prominent member of society, and I am very much sought after.

JUDGE. [_Frigidly._] Oh, indeed!

RICH CITIZEN. [_In a very bored manner._] Yes. Women run after me day and night. Ambitious mothers throw their marriageable daughters at my head. Men seek my advice on all matters. I am compelled to head this and that committee. [_Smokes languidly._

JUDGE. [_Sharply._] Well, go on.

RICH CITIZEN. Really, Judge, my prestige has become a burden. I want to get away from it all. I would like to become a plain, ordinary man with an humble vocation, the humbler the better, so that people will cease bothering me.

JUDGE. [_Sarcastically._] Is your prestige all that troubles you? Don't worry about your morals, I suppose. Satisfied with your habits and character?

RICH CITIZEN. [_Coldly._] What have my habits or morals got to do with my request? [_Scornfully._] Certainly I am not one of your saintly men. I live as a man of my station should live, and I think I measure up very well with the best of them. I am simply bored and I would like a change. I would like to be a plain man with an humble calling.

JUDGE. [_Ironically._] I'll see what we have in humble callings. [_He looks at the ledger, turning the leaves over slowly._] We have several bartenders' vocations.

RICH CITIZEN. [_Wearily smoking._] No. Too many people about all the time, and too much noise.

JUDGE. Well, here's a janitor's job open to you.

RICH CITIZEN. [_Impatiently throwing away his cigarette._] No. I don't like that, either. Too confining. Too many people bickering at you all the time. I want to get out in the open, away from crowds.

JUDGE. [_Sighing, and turning over the leaves of the ledger, then hopefully._] Here's the very thing for you, then--postman in a rural district.

RICH CITIZEN. [_Showing vexation._] No, no, _no_. Too many old women that want to gossip. I tell you, I want to get away from women. Haven't you something peaceful and quiet; something that would take me out in the quiet of the early morning, when the birds are singing?

JUDGE. [_Closing ledger with a bang, and rising._] Well, you're too particular, and I have not time to bother with you. I bid you good after----

IMP. [_Slides from his desk, runs to railing, and speaks suavely._] Excuse me, Judge, but maybe the gentleman would like the vocation of milkman. That is early-morning work. And, you remember, a milkman left his job here when he took that old, worn-out senator's position.

JUDGE. [_Sharply, to_ RICH CITIZEN.] Well, how about it? Does a milkman's vocation suit you? It's early-morning hours, fresh air, and no people about.

RICH CITIZEN. [_Musingly._] Well, the very simplicity and quietness of it is its charm. It rather appeals to me. [_He ponders a moment._] Yes, by Jove, I'll take it.

JUDGE. [_Sternly._] Hold up your right hand. "Do you solemnly swear to accept, for better or for worse, the vocation of milkman as your lot in life, so help you God?"

RICH CITIZEN. I do.

JUDGE. [_To_ IMP.] Show this gentleman to the changing-room.

IMP. [_While escorting him to the curtained door._] Yes, sir, you will lead the simple life. Fresh air, fresh milk, no people, just cows--and they can't talk. [_Holding aside the curtains._] Third booth, sir.

RICH CITIZEN. [_Musingly._] The simple life--peace and quietness.

[_Exit._

JUDGE. [I_n disgust._] It's no use, Imp. They all cling to their vices, but they are very keen to change some little cross or condition that vexes them--or think vexes them.

IMP. It's strange that people always want something different from what they have.

[IMP _opens a drawer in his desk and takes out a bottle, evidently filled with tablets, which he holds up, shaking it and chuckling. He hunts in the drawer again, and this time brings forth a huge ear-trumpet, which he chucklingly places an his table beside the bottle of tablets._

JUDGE. Don't let any more in, Imp. I can't stand another one to-day. I am going to write a letter and then go home.

IMP. All right, sir.

JUDGE. I am feeling very tired; what I really need is a vacation. A sea-trip would put me right. By the way, Imp, where is that transatlantic folder that I told you to get?

[IMP _picks up the folder from his desk and takes it to the_ JUDGE, _who studies it attentively_. IMP _returns to his own desk, where he again looks in a drawer and brings forth a menu card, which he glances over, grinning mischievously_.

[_The former_ POOR MAN _re-enters from the changing-room. He is well dressed, and taking a well-filled wallet from his pocket, he looks at it gloatingly. However, from time to time, a shade of annoyance passes over his face, and he puts his hand to the pit of his stomach._ IMP _runs to meet him, and hands him the menu that he has been reading_.

IMP. Here's a menu from the Gargoyle. Say, you sure do look swell! [_Looking him over admiringly._

FORMER POOR MAN. [_Grinning happily._] Some class to me now, eh! [_Looking at menu._] And you watch me pick out a real dinner. [_Sits down at left front._] First, I'll have a cocktail, then--let's see--I'll have--another cocktail. Next, oysters, and [_he frowns and presses his hand to the pit of his stomach, keeping up a massaging motion_]--green-turtle soup, sand dabs--chicken breasts--

[_They become absorbed over the menu._

[_The_ VAIN WOMAN _re-enters from the changing-room. She now has a smooth face, and she is looking at herself in a hand-glass, smiling and touching her face delightedly, She walks over to the railing, and leans over it to the_ JUDGE. _He looks up questioningly._

VAIN WOMAN. [_Smiling._] Oh, I am so happy again. Am I not beautiful?

JUDGE. [_Pityingly._] You are a vain, foolish woman.

[_Since she is deaf, she does not hear his words, but thinks he is complimenting her. She smiles at him coyly._

VAIN WOMAN. Ah, Judge, you too are susceptible to my charms.

[_The_ JUDGE, _in great exasperation, puts away his papers, thrusts the transatlantic folder in his pocket, hastily closes his desk, and hurries to the hat-rack, puts on his overcoat, slips his skull-cap into his pocket and puts on his soft black hat. Then, with a shrug of his shoulders and a wave of his hand indicative of disgust, he slips quietly out._

[_The_ VAIN WOMAN _saunters past the_ FORMER POOR MAN, _stops near him, posing, and begins to put on her gloves. He looks at her admiringly, then, getting to his feet, makes an elaborate but awkward bow._

FORMER POOR MAN. Excuse me, lady, but I've had a big piece of luck to-day, and I want to celebrate, so I am having a big dinner. Won't you join me and help me have a good time?

VAIN WOMAN. [_Looking at him blankly, and trying to fathom what he has said._] Oh--why, what did you say?

FORMER POOR MAN. [_Hesitating, and a bit surprised._] Why--er--I said that I had a big piece of luck to-day, and I am going to celebrate. I am having a fine dinner, and I just asked if--if--you wouldn't have dinner with me.

VAIN WOMAN. [_Still looking blank and a little confused, then smiling archly and acting as though she had been hearing compliments, she speaks affectedly._] Really, do you think so? [_Looking down and smoothing her dress._] But, then, every one tells me that I am.

FORMER POOR MAN. [_Puzzled, turns to_ IMP _for help_.] Just what is her trouble, Nut?

IMP. [_Secretly gleeful._] She is stone-deaf. You had better write it.

FORMER POOR MAN. Never! No deaf ones for me.

[_Turns away and consults menu again._ VAIN WOMAN _poses and frequently looks in hand-glass to reassure herself_.

[FORMER RICH CITIZEN _re-enters from the changing-room. He is dressed in shabby overalls, jumper, and an old hat. He has a pipe in his mouth. He walks arrogantly over to the_ FORMER POOR MAN _and addresses him_.

FORMER RICH CITIZEN. Give me a light.

FORMER POOR MAN. [_Trying to live up to his fine clothes and wallet full of money, looks the_ FORMER RICH CITIZEN _over snubbingly_.] Say, who do you think you are? You light out, see?

FORMER RICH CITIZEN. [_Very much surprised, stands nonplussed a moment._] Well, upon my word, I--I----

[_He stops short in his speech, walks haughtily over to the railing, where he stands glowering at the_ FORMER POOR MAN. _The_ FORMER POOR MAN _starts for the street door, but_ IMP _runs after him, waving the bottle of tablets_.

IMP. I'll sell you these for two bits.

FORMER POOR MAN. What is that?

IMP. [_Grinning._] Indigestion tablets.

FORMER POOR MAN. [_Puts his hand to his stomach and laughs a little lamely._] Keep 'em; I don't need 'em.

[VAIN WOMAN _fastens her fur and starts for the street-door, giving the_ FORMER RICH CITIZEN _a snubbing look as she passes him_. IMP _stops her and offers the ear-trumpet_.

IMP. You might need this; I'll sell it for a dollar.

[_She does not hear what he says, but she looks her scorn at the ear-trumpet and walks proudly out._

FORMER RICH CITIZEN. [_Fumbling at his pocket, as if to find a watch._] Boy, what time is it? I haven't my watch.

IMP. [_Grinning mischievously._] Time to milk the cows.

[_The_ FORMER RICH CITIZEN _starts angrily toward_ IMP, _then evidently thinking better of it, shrugs his shoulders and stalks majestically to the street-door. He pauses with it partly open, turns as if to speak to_ IMP, _drawing himself up haughtily--a ludicrous figure in his shabby outfit--then he goes abruptly out, slamming the door_.

[IMP _doubles himself up in a paroxysm of glee as the curtain falls_.