Three years elapse.

Scene: The street outside the Acacias.

Time: Evening.

[Ali leans on a pillar-box watching. John shuffles on L. He is miserably dressed, an Englishman down on his luck. A nightingale sings far off.]

JOHN

A nightingale here. Well, I never.

Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir, The nightingales that guard thy ways Cease not to give thee, after God And after Paradise, all praise...

The infernal place! I wish I had never seen it! Wonder what set me thinking of that?

[The nightingale sings another bar. JOHN turns to his left and walks down the little path that leads to the door of the Acacias.]

I mustn't come here. Mustn't come to a fine house like this. Mustn't. Mustn't.

[He draws near it reluctantly. He puts his hand to the bell and withdraws it. Then he rings and snatches his hand away. He prepares to run away. Finally he rings it repeatedly, feverishly, violently.

Enter LIZA, opening the door.]

LIZA

Ullo, 'Oo's this!

JOHN

I oughtn't to have rung, miss, I know. I oughtn't to have rung your bell; but I've seen better days, and wondered if—I wondered...

LIZA

I oughtn't to 'ave opened the door, that's wot I oughtn't. Now I look at you, I oughtn't to 'ave opened it. Wot does you want?

JOHN

O, don't turn me away now, miss. I must come here. I must.

LIZA

Must? Why?

JOHN

I don't know.

LIZA

Wot do you want?

JOHN

Who lives here?

LIZA

Mr. and Mrs. Cater; firm of Briggs, Cater, and Johnstone. What do you want?

JOHN

Could I see Mr. Cater?

LIZA

He's out. Dining at the Mansion House.

JOHN

Oh.

LIZA

He is.

JOHN

Could I see Mrs. Cater?

LIZA

See Mrs. Cater? No, of course you couldn't.

[She prepares to shut the door.]

JOHN

Miss! Miss! Don't go, miss. Don't shut me out. If you knew what I'd suffered, if you knew what I'd suffered. Don't!

LIZA [coming forward again]

Suffered? Why? Ain't you got enough to eat?

JOHN

No, I've had nothing all day.

LIZA

'Aven't you really now?

JOHN

No. And I get little enough at any time.

LIZA [kindly]

You ought to work.

JOHN

I... I can't. I can't bring myself... I've seen better times.

LIZA

Still, you could work.

JOHN

I—I can't grub for halfpennies when I've —when I've...

LIZA

When you've what?

JOHN

Lost millions.

LIZA

Millions?

JOHN

I've lost everything.

LIZA

'Ow did you lose it?

JOHN

Through being blind. But never mind, never mind. It's all gone now, and I'm hungry.

LIZA

'Ow long 'ave you been down on your luck?

JOHN

It's three years now.

LIZA

Couldn't get a regular job, like?

JOHN

Well, I suppose I might have. I suppose it's my fault, miss. But the heart was out of me.

LIZA

Dear me, now.

JOHN

Miss.

LIZA

Yes?

JOHN

You've a kind face...

LIZA

'Ave I?

JOHN

Yes. Would you do me a kind turn?

LIZA

Well, I dunno. I might, as yer so down on yer luck—I don't like to see a man like you are, I must say.

JOHN

Would you let me come into the big house and speak to the missus a moment?

LIZA

She'd row me awful if I did. This house is very respectable.

JOHN

I feel, if you would, I feel, I feel my luck might change.

LIZA

But I don't know what she'd say if I did.

JOHN

Miss, I must.

LIZA

I don't know wot she'd say.

JOHN

I must come in, miss, I must.

LIZA

I don't know what she'll say.

JOHN

I must. I can't help myself.

LIZA

I don't know what she'll...

[JOHN is in, door shuts.]

[ALI throws his head up and laughs, but quite silently.]

Curtain

SCENE 2

The drawing-room at the Acacias.

A moment later.

The scene is the same as in Act I, except that the sofa which was red is now green, and the photograph of Aunt Martha is replaced by that of a frowning old colonel. The ages of the four children in the photographs are the same, but their sexes have changed.

[MARY reading. Enter LIZA.]

LIZA

There's a gentleman to see you, mum, which is, properly speaking, not a gentleman at all, but 'e would come in, mum.

MARY

Not a gentleman! Good gracious, Liza, whatever do you mean?

LIZA

'E would come in, mum.

MARY

But what does he want?

LIZA [over shoulder]

What does you want?

JOHN [entering]

I am a beggar.

MARY

O, really? You've no right to be coming into houses like this, you know.

JOHN

I know that, madam, I know that. Yet somehow I couldn't help myself. I've been begging for nearly three years now, and I've never done this before, yet somehow to-night I felt impelled to come to this house. I beg your pardon, humbly. Hunger drove me to it.

MARY

Hunger?

JOHN

I'm very hungry, madam.

MARY

Unfortunately Mr. Cater has not yet returned, or perhaps he might...

JOHN

If you could give me a little to eat yourself, madam, a bit of stale bread, a crust, something that Mr. Cater would not want.

MARY

It's very unusual, coming into a house like this and at such an hour—it's past eleven o'clock—and Mr. Cater not yet returned. Are you really hungry?

JOHN

I'm very, very hungry.

MARY

Well, it's very unusual; but perhaps I might get you a little something.

[She picks up an empty plate from the supper table.]

JOHN

Madam, I do not know how to thank you.

MARY

O, don't mention it.

JOHN

I have not met such kindness for three years. I... I'm starving. I've known better times.

MARY [kindly]

I'll get you something. You've known better times, you say?

JOHN

I had been intended for work in the City. And then, then I travelled, and—and I got very much taken with foreign countries, and I thought—but it all went to pieces. I lost everything. Here I am, starving.

MARY [as one might reply to the Mayoress who had lost her gloves]

O, I'm so sorry.

[JOHN sighs deeply.]

MARY

I'll get a nice bit of something to eat.

JOHN

A thousand thanks to you, madam.

[Exit MARY with the plate.]

LIZA [who has been standing near the door all the time]

Well, she's going to get you something.

JOHN

Heaven reward her.

LIZA

Hungry as all that?

JOHN

I'm on my beam ends.

LIZA

Cheer up!

JOHN

That's all very well to say, living in a fine house, as you are, dry and warm and well-fed. But what have I to cheer up about?

LIZA

Isn't there anything you could pop?

JOHN

What?

LIZA

Nothing you can take to the pawn-shop? I've tided over times I wanted a bit of cash that way sometimes.

JOHN

What could I pawn?

LIZA

Well, well you've a watch-chain.

JOHN

A bit of old leather.

LIZA

But what about the watch?

JOHN

I've no watch.

LIZA

O, funny having a watch-chain then.

JOHN

O, that's only for this; it's a bit of crystal.

LIZA

Funny bit of a thing. What's it for?

JOHN

I don't know.

LIZA

Was it give to you?

JOHN

I don't know. I don't know how I got it.

LIZA

Don't know how you got it?

JOHN

No, I can't remember at all. But I've a feeling about it, I can't explain what I feel; but I don't part with it.

LIZA

Don't you? You might get something on it, likely and have a square meal.

JOHN

I won't part with it.

LIZA

Why?

JOHN

I feel I won't. I never have.

LIZA

Feel you won't?

JOHN

Yes, I have that feeling very strongly. I've kept it always. Everything else is gone.

LIZA

Had it long?

JOHN

Yes, yes. About ten years. I found I had it one morning in a train. It's odd that I can't remember.

LIZA

But wot d'yer keep it for?

JOHN

Just for luck.

[LIZA breaks into laughter.]

LIZA

Well, you are funny.

JOHN

I'm on my beam ends. I don't know if that is funny.

LIZA

You're as down in your luck as ever you can be, and you go keeping a thing like that for luck. Why, you couldn't be funnier.

JOHN

Well, what would you do?

LIZA

Why, I 'ad a mascot once, all real gold; and I had rotten luck. Rotten luck I had. Rotten.

JOHN

And what did you do?

LIZA

Took it back to the shop.

JOHN

Yes?

LIZA

They was quite obliging about it. Gave me a wooden one instead, what was guaranteed. Luck changed very soon altogether.

JOHN

Could luck like mine change?

LIZA

Course it could.

JOHN

Look at me.

LIZA

You'll be all right one of these days. Give me that mascot.

JOHN

I—I hardly like to. One has an awfully strong feeling with it.

LIZA

Give it to me. It's no good.

JOHN

I—I don't like to.

LIZA

You just give it to me. I tell you it's doing you no good. I know all about them mascots. Give it me.

JOHN

Well, I'll give it you. You're the first woman that's been kind to me since ... I'm on my beam ends.

[Face in hands—tears.]

LIZA

There, there. I'm going to smash it, I am. These mascots! One's better without 'em. Your luck'll turn, never fear. And you've a nice supper coming.

[She puts it in a corner of the mantelpiece and hammers it. It smashes.

The photographs of the four children change slightly. The Colonel gives place to Aunt Martha. The green sofa turns red. JOHN's clothes become neat and tidy. The hammer in LIZA's hand turns to a feather duster. Nothing else changes.]

A VOICE [off, in agony]

Allah! Allah! Allah!

LIZA

Some foreign gentleman must have hurt himself.

JOHN

H'm. Sounds like it... Liza.

[LIZA, dusting the photographs on the wall, just behind the corner of the mantelpiece.]

LIZA

Funny. Thought I—thought I 'ad a hammer in my hand.

JOHN

Really, Liza, I often think you have. You really should be more careful. Only—only yesterday you broke the glass of Miss Jane's photograph.

LIZA

Thought it was a hammer.

JOHN

Really, I think it sometimes is. It's a mistake you make too often, Liza. You—you must be more careful.

LIZA

Very well, sir. Funny my thinking I 'ad an 'ammer in my 'and, though.

[She goes to tidy the little supper table. Enter MARY with food on a plate.]

MARY

I've brought you your supper, John.

JOHN

Thanks, Mary. I—I think I must have taken a nap.

MARY

Did you, dear? Thanks, Liza. Run along to bed now, Liza. Good gracious, it's half-past eleven.

[MARY makes final arrangements of supper table.]

LIZA

Thank you, mum.

[Exit ]

JOHN

Mary.

MARY

Yes, John.

JOHN

I—I thought I'd caught that train.

Curtain