Adam the Creator/Scene 5
V
Adam:
Creator, you may sit with folded hands;
See, it is good, all that which has been made.
Only the clay ran out. We’ve no more clay.
I portioned it into two equal parts;
Let each one work according to his mind;
So we created, speaking not a word,
I individuals and he his crowds.
I am content. But this is not the time
To appraise and analyse the work created.
Only I can’t deny that—on the whole—
That Alter Ego used up too much clay.
I, only I, created; his production—
Well, I don’t want to say that it’s worth nothing;
But it’s not really a creator’s work
To pour it out like nails from a machine.
Well, God be with him. I am glad to be
Alone again. He really bored me sometimes.
We’ll separate, like Lot and Abraham:
If he would like the left, I’ll choose the right.
I only wonder if he’ll come to-day;
I must be here, worse luck, to see the show:
To-day, my dear good people, it appears,
Are getting up for me a grand ovation.
It is to be a vote of confidence
In the Creator, an address of thanks
On this great day; so fervent and devoted
They are . . . I’ll hide; I’ve got to be surprised.
I almost fear my strength will play me false.
At times like this one’s tempted to be soft.
Is it my fault my people love me so?
If Alter Ego bursts with rage—well let him!
[He gets up and rubs his hands.
A glorious day!—Something’s in preparation;
Perhaps they will set up a tablet here!
[Enter Alter Ego.
Alter Ego
Hullo, old boy! What are you doing here? Looking for yesterday? Or for some work to do? Or a four-leaved clover? You’ve nothing to do now, have you? You’ve finished.
Adam:
Like you, my friend, like you. Our work is done.
Alter Ego:
Not a bit of it. I’m only just beginning.
Adam:
To create?
Alter Ego:
To organize. Organizing is creating. Creating a higher unit. You’ve finished, Adam, that’s clear; you’ve made people, and there’s nothing more to be done with people, absolutely nothing. Why, you’ve got a regular Zoo there. Oh well, so long as it amuses you. But excuse me; I’ve something to do.
Adam:
Not at all; I really haven’t time to listen to you.
Alter Ego:
Pardon. I shouldn’t like to detain you.
Adam:
It would be useless to try.
[He retires with great dignity.
Alter Ego (looking after him):
He was just nibbling at it; it’s worth nothing.
And anyway it isn’t workman-like
To make each separately, like mince-pies.
[He sits down.
I like him quite; he’s not a bad old boy.
I wish him peace and many golden years.
He’s done his best, I’m sure; but oh, my goodness,
Why did he think he’d make a world himself?
Adam, just think; how will our worlds get on
Together, yours and mine? What do you say
About it? That’s not in our hands, my friend;
What we’ve created has more strength than we.
He might have seen, if he had stayed here longer,
How much, how much the masses think of me.
They mean to honour their creator here. . . .
Here comes the tablet . . . I had better vanish.
[Exit. The scene is empty for a moment.
Voices behind the Scene (left):
Ready! Hey—rup! Hey—rup! Hey—rup! Easy!
Voices behind the Scene (right):
Let it go, you there!—No, hoist it up! That won’t do! Mind out!—Don’t break it!
Voices behind the Scene (left):
Ready! Hey—rup! Hey—rup! Hey—rup! Easy!
Voices behind the Scene (right):
How are we going to put it up?—You should have brought poles!—A cart! Ropes!—Levers!—Careful, it’s falling!—Mind out!—Mind out!!—Quick now! Easy there!—Forward!—Back!
Voices behind the Scene (Left):
Ready! Hey—rup! Hey—rup! Hey—rup!
[Enter Alter Ego’s men—AE’s for short—carrying on ropes a large tablet on which is inscribed, “Here the Work of Creation was Completed”. They are all dressed alike in khaki overalls, all have the same features, which through following a standardized ideal type are somewhat expressionless.
Voices behind the Scene (right):
A bit more! Leave it here!—A bit to the right!—A bit to the left! That’s wrong! Pull there!—Push there!—Let go!—I’ll do it alone!—
Push there!—Not there! You’ll smash it!
First AE:
Hi, you there! What are you bringing here?
First Adamite (to all appearances an Orator):
What?—Look, here are the AE’s!
[Shouts and laughter from the Adamites.
Second AE:
What d’you want here?
Second Adamite (obviously a Poet):
What’s that to do with you?
Third Adamite (perhaps a Scholar):
What do you want here?
Fourth Adamite (who looks like a Romanticist):
Clear out!
All the AE’s:
Clear out!
Fifth Adamite (most likely a Hedonist):
Not likely!
Sixth Adamite (perhaps a Philosopher):
Allow me, I will explain to them! Gentlemen———
Orator:
In the name of the nation of Adam———
Romanticist:
No speeches! Chuck them out!
Scholar:
Allow me to speak!
Poet:
We’re going to hold a celebration here!
Hedonist:
Good people———
Romanticist:
You’ve come here to provoke us!
[Shouts from the Adamites.
Orator:
Gentlemen from the other country, as we are arranging the unveiling of the tablet here———
Poet:
―with recitations———
Philosopher:
—and lectures———
Orator:
—we request you to withdraw!
Romanticist:
Chuck them out!
[Shouts, hooting, and cat-calls.
Gentlemen! (The noise dies down.) The AE masses have come here to prepare an AE demonstration.
Orator:
I say! What kind of demonstration?
First AE:
The AE’s have come here to set up a memorial tablet.
All the AE’s:
Here the Work of Creation was Completed!
[A pause of astonishment.
Scholar:
But look here, Adam didn’t create you!
Second AE:
No. Alter Ego created us.
Philosopher:
Created? Do you mean that someone created you?
Romanticist:
They think they were created!
Hedonist:
What d’you cost the dozen?
[Shouts of mocking laughter.
Orator:
But gentlemen, this is an error! You were not created.
Poet:
You were manufactured!
Romanticist:
You’re not originals!
Hedonist:
You’re only numbers!
Scholar:
We won’t speak to you at all!
Romanticist:
You herd of sheep!
Poet:
You earthen pots!
Philosopher:
You base imitations!
First AE:
That’ll do! What are you, pray?
Orator:
We are real people.
Romanticist:
Personalities.
Philosopher:
Souls.
Poet:
Images of God.
First AE:
You’re mangy survivals.
Orator:
What do you say we are?
First AE:
Masks.
All the AE’s:
Fools.
First AE:
Old trash.
All the AE’s:
Humbug.
First AE:
We are the New World.
All the AE’s:
Created by Alter Ego.
All the AE’s:
We are creative revolution.
All the AE’s:
We are the Mass.
First AE:
Adam is done for.
All the AE’s:
He must clear out!
[Frightful hubbub among the Adamites. Shouts of: “At them!” “Hooligans!” “Kill them!”
Orator (shouting down all the others):
Silence! Friends, we have just been offered a terrible insult. These clay abortions here———
Poet (shouting him down):
Alter Ego is a bungler and a swindler!
Scholar:
Long live Adam!
All the AE’s:
Long live Alter Ego!
Romanticist:
At them, boys! Give it them!
Orator:
Gentlemen, silence pray! We have come here to set up our tablet———
Second AE:
Our tablet is going here!
All the AE’s:
Our tablet!
Scholar:
Adam’s tablet!
Philosopher:
And no other!
Hedonist (stamping):
Clear out!
All the AE’s
Clear out!
Romanticist:
Hurrah for Adam!
All the AE’s
Hurrah for Alter Ego!
Now then! At them!
[All the AE’s begin to whistle Alter Ego’s tune.
Adamites (with a confused warlike din):
Ha! Hurrah! At them!
[The two bands hurl themselves on each other—the AE’s whistling and in compact rows, the Adamites with victorious shouts and each charging independently. Hubbub. They all roll on the ground, trying to strangle each other, with much shouting.
Rotten! That’s not the way to fight! Stop!
[The combatants, startled by this interference, let go and get up, each returning to his own side.
First AE:
Who’s that?
Orator:
What’s the meaning of this?
[Murmur and shouts.
Superman (above them):
Silence! Awfully bad, gentlemen! I’m sorry to have to tell you that it wasn’t war at all; it was just a brawl. That’s not the way to do it.
Romanticist:
What’s that to you?
Superman:
Kindly hold your jaw. Fall in, sir. Dress. You don’t know what dressing is? And you want to fight under your country’s flag?
Poet:
We are not soldiers.
Superman:
Because you’re not properly equipped. You must have uniforms. You must be armed.
Scholar:
But we only came here to set up a tablet!
Superman:
You shall set up another tablet here. A memorial of victory. A monument to the fallen. “They laid down their lives on the field of honour,” or something like that. That’s the way to do it.
Romanticist:
That’s true. Let’s make haste and get armed.
Poet:
To arms! Hurrah!
Adamites (with a great shout):
We’ll give it them! To arms!
[They hurry away to their city.
Superman (to the AE’s):
And what about you? You must arm. Every tenth man will be corporal. Equality is abolished. Clear?
All the AE’s:
Clear!
Superman:
About turn! Forward! Left! Left! Left!
[All the AE’s march off to the left.
SUPERMAN (alone):
Oof! what a stink! (He takes a fan from under his coat and fans himself.) How close it is; there’ll be a storm. I bring the message of strength.
[Distant thunder.
Adam (returning from the right):
The day was so lovely, and now it’s overcast. Clouds are blowing up and it’s beginning to thunder. Where are my people? Why haven’t they come to fetch me? Aha, they’ve brought a tablet here, my dear children. I expected that. (Reading.) “Here—the work—of creation—was—completed.” How beautifully and concisely put! And what’s this? Another tablet! Why do they want to put up two tablets to me? (Reading.) “Here—the work—of creation—was—completed.”—This is extraordinary.
Superman:
Here war was created.
Adam:
What?
Superman:
That second tablet is not for you.
Adam:
Who is it for, then?
Superman:
It was brought here by the others.
Adam:
The others? That’s nonsense. The others wouldn’t be putting up a tablet to me!
Superman:
Not to you, but to the other one.
Adam:
Who? Alter Ego? That’s all rot. Alter Ego hasn’t created anything! Who are you? What’s the meaning of these trampled wreaths? What’s happened?
Superman:
On the day on which the work of creation was completed war broke out. I have stood on the threshold of history. Under my personal supervision history has been born.
[Thunder.
Adam:
What does that mean?
Superman:
The beginning. Your people fought badly; no training, no discipline, and for the present no casualties.
Adam:
What? My people came into conflict with those others? It came to a battle? Whose fault was it? Who was in the right?
Superman:
Right will be with the victor! Those others came off with a slight advantage. They’re better material.
Adam:
Liar! My people are better! They’ve more ability! They’re better finished!
Superman:
No dressing. Each one stands how he likes, and each one has his own opinion.
Adam:
That’s because each of them is a personality!
Superman:
That can be put right. Just shove them into uniforms! Give them a common idea. Stick a flag in their hands! They’ve weapons and a war-cry. Ready. That’s the way to do it, Creator!
Adam:
And you call that creating?
Superman:
I call that licking into shape. We must create the nation. We must create the Empire! That is the significance of this war.
[Thunder.
Adam:
What war? Who are you, anyway?
Superman:
I bring the message of strength.
Adam:
Aha . . . you’re . . . what’s the name? I’ve got it, Miles.
Superman:
Müller. Superman Müller’s my name. Man of action. Instructor in heroism.
Adam:
I know now. And what’s—er—Eve doing?
Superman:
Physical culture. Rhythmic gymnastics.
Adam:
And you say that my people were attacked by those fanatics? I know, it’s that Cain set them on us! But I’ll settle them!
Superman (cleaning his nails with his spear):
You won’t be able to beat them.
Adam:
Then I shall send my people at them!
Superman:
That’s what you call war.
Adam:
No, that’s what you call defence! I don’t want a war!
Superman:
It is war. You can go home, Creator!
[The thunder grows louder.
Adam:
And do you think I shall permit it?
Superman:
There’s no question of the Creator giving orders here. No one’ll ask you.
Adam:
Then who will give orders?
Superman:
The one who commands, the one who wins. Creating a world, that’s nothing. The world must be conquered. Show who’s the better man! Now try what you can do!
Adam:
What I can do?
Superman:
Nothing. To be a Creator is a passive, played out rôle. You’ve been dropped, old fossil. Creep back to your primeval era, Creator. Real history has broken loose.
Adam:
What? I’ll show you history! (He jumps up, wrenches the spear from the Superman’s hand, and belabours him with it.) I’ve been dropped, have I? You want to see what I can do? Take that! And that! (Driving him before him.) It’s not for me to give orders, isn’t it? You lazy lout! (He drives him off the scene.) I’ll teach you to talk about war! Take that! And that! (The shouting dies away.)
[The storm bursts; it begins to rain.
Adam’s Voice (drawing nearer):
And remember me to Eve, you jackass!
[Thunder.
Adam (returning and leaning on the spear):
Oof! I gave it him! Oh the joy of giving someone a thorough walloping! It’s curious, I’ve never felt so strong while I was creating. (He sits down in the rain and takes a deep breath.) Alter Ego’s tablet! My people attacked! Am I to let this go on?
[Lightning and a peal of thunder.
Ready to burst! Cool my hot brow, sweet rains!
For a creator there is only anguish
In sending to the slaughter his own work.
[Thunder.
Harder to see it’s not all smashed again
Protect my work . . . As if I could do that
Why, there was never yet a God who could!
[Lightning and thunder.
Conquer a nation, create history.
But the creator’s simple lot contents me.
In lowly silence to create from clay . . .
Refresh me, storm!
[A peal of thunder.
Alter Ego (bursts onto the stage, raging):
Where is he? Where are they?—Aha, here he is! And armed! Now we see who was preparing for war! Here’s the proof of who began it!
Adam (rising):
Alter Ego, I must complain about your falling on my innocent people. My people came here with a memorial tablet———
Alter Ego:
That’s a lie! My people came here with a memorial tablet, and that horde of yours hurled itself on them———
Adam:
That’s a lie! It was you who set your hirelings on us———
Alter Ego:
Adam, you’re an old blackguard.
Adam (hurling his spear under Alter Ego’s feet):
This shall be settled between our nations!
Alter Ego:
We’ll give you a licking!
Adam:
We’ll make a mincemeat of you!
Alter Ego:
We declare war on you!
Adam:
And so do we, devil take you!
[Peal of thunder; deluge of rain.
Alter Ego:
Adam, for the moment I break off relations with you.
Adam:
So do I. And I’m not going to get soaked here for you!
[He hurries to the hole which is left in the ground in the place of the Clay of Creation.
Alter Ego (behind him):
That’s not your hole! I’ve as much right to it as you! Come out of it!
Adam (in the hole):
Not likely!
Alter Ego:
Come out! I want to shelter somewhere!
Adam:
What’s that to do with me? Shelter, then!
Alter Ego:
If there’s only one hole one of us must be outside!
Adam:
If there’s only one hole we can both be inside it.
Alter Ego:
Both of us? How?
Adam:
There’s room enough here.
Alter Ego (creeps into the hole):
Well, so that you shan’t think I’m afraid———
[Lightning, thunder, and torrents of rain.
Adam:
There’s a storm for you!
Alter Ego:
Yes.[Peals of thunder.
Adam:
This is the worst it’s been so far.
Alter Ego:
It’s been brewing a long time, you know.
[Gusts of wind and fresh downpour.
Adam:
Sit over here; it’s dry here.
Alter Ego:
But that’s over in your half.
Adam:
That doesn’t matter. Sit down.
Alter Ego (sitting down):
I don’t want to be in your way.
Adam:
Not a bit. You don’t bother me at all.
[The thunder grows less loud.
Alter Ego:
There’s a deluge for you!
Adam:
Yes. It’ll be good for the rye crops.
Alter Ego:
Nonsense. The rye has had enough; but the turnips need it.
Adam:
No, not the turnips. Potatoes.
Alter Ego:
Potatoes, too.
Adam:
And turnips, too.
[The storm grows more distant.
H’m. And how are you getting on at home?
Alter Ego:
Oh, all right, thanks.
Adam:
Lucky it didn’t hail.
Alter Ego:
Just what I was thinking. It’s not raining so hard now.
[The storm dies away.
Adam:
It’s got nice and cool now.
Alter Ego:
Yes, it was too close before, you know.
Adam:
It gets on one’s nerves. That’s why you were so touchy.
Alter Ego:
I like that! I was touchy, was I? You began it!
Adam:
Look here, drop that! I’ve nothing against you.
Alter Ego:
I’m glad of that, you see, I thought——— Look, the sun’s shining already!
[Birds begin to sing.
Adam:
Shall we come out?
Alter Ego (rising):
After you, Adam.
Adam (comes out of the hole):
Look, Alter Ego, a rainbow!
[He kicks away the spear which is lying on the ground.
Alter Ego (kicking the spear still farther away):
And a second one above it! Look, a double rainbow!
Adam (standing over Alter Ego’s tablet):
So this is your tablet? (He feels it.) Solid. What is it made of?
Alter Ego:
Granite, I think. But yours is more tasteful. Artistic, you know.
Adam:
Yours will last longer. What a piece of work! You must be very happy about your people, Alter Ego.
Alter Ego:
I’m awfully glad to hear you say that, Adam. When it comes from an expert like you———
Adam:
D’you know, I often say to myself that it’s not a bad idea to make people all alike. When you get them all together they make a better effect, you know. And it’s quicker work, too. There’s something to be said for it.
Alter Ego:
Yes, but to make each one different isn’t bad either. There’s so much variety that way, so many ideas. . . You’re a real artist, Adam, that’s what it is. Yours makes a fine show, too.
Adam:
Yes, perhaps; but your standardization has a beauty of its own. It’s orderly, it’s practical, and it’s modern. You set about it in a scientific way. That’s progress, you know.
Alter Ego:
But your ideal was—well, sort of cultural, wasn’t it? Classical, I should say. You have really realized the age-long dream of humanity. I’m glad you have been so successful with it.
Adam:
My dear Alter Ego!
Alter Ego:
My dear Adam![They embrace.
Adam:
Wait a minute, I’ll tell you something.
Alter Ego:
No, I’ll tell you. We really ought to have combined.
Adam:
That’s true. We ought to have created together.
Alter Ego:
You are an artist, poet, and sculptor, a true creator———
Adam:
And you are a scientific mind and an organizer! Think what we might have created———
Alter Ego:
—if we had had a word in each other’s work!
Adam:
Obviously. Discussion is a basis of everything.
Alter Ego:
No; the chief thing is joint control.
Adam:
But first of all there must be a joint programme.
Alter Ego:
Nonsense. First there must be a contract. That’s quite enough.
Adam:
Look here, are we quarrelling, or do we really agree? I say that we ought to have created together, in concord and harmony.
Alter Ego:
That’s just what I say. You would have created———
Adam:
—and you organized———
Alter Ego:
―our joint world.
Adam:
My good Alter Ego!
Alter Ego:
My dear Adam! (They embrace.) Listen, couldn’t we try once more?
Adam:
To create together? We could. Only I’ve no clay left.
Alter Ego:
Nor have I. Not a scrap.
Adam:
That’s a pity.
Alter Ego:
It is. See here, if we could only create one person together.
Adam:
Sharing the work between us.
Alter Ego:
That’s it. So that he should have something from you and something from me.
Adam:
And be a sort of mediator between your world and mine.
Alter Ego:
And be at home in both. I should like him to have your eyes.
Adam:
And I should like him to have your tune!
Alter Ego:
Adam, my best of friends! (They embrace.) It would be a sort of angel of love, you know.
Adam:
And messenger of peace, beautiful as Ariel———
Alter Ego:
And we haven’t the clay to make him! Are you sure you haven’t just a lump or two?
Adam:
Not a scrap. Only a few scrapings in the cave. You know, that heap you sat on.
Alter Ego:
Do you think it’s enough for a wee bit of a man?
Adam:
Can’t be done! Barely a third of one! Come and look.
[They both go to the threshold of the cave.
Alter Ego:
You’re right; you couldn’t make a dog out of that bit of clay.
[He gives the clay a lick.
The Clay (lets out a howl):
Ow!
Alter Ego (with a start):
What’s that?
Adam (stepping back quickly):
Who’s that?
Oddly-Come-Short (getting up out of the heap):
It’s only me, Guvnor.
[He sneezes.
Alter Ego:
Who are you?
Oddly-Come-Short:
I’m hungry.
Adam:
Where have you sprung from? Who created you?
Oddly-Come-Short:
No one, sir. Please sir, I created myself, I did.
Adam:
What impertinence! No one can create himself!
Oddly-Come-Short:
Can’t help it, Guvnor. That kick hurt me, it did.
Alter Ego:
But where did you get the breath of life from?
Oddly-Come-Short:
Here, sir. (Rubbing his stomach.) There was a rumbling here, sir . . . and it just was. Please, sir, I’m hungry, I am.
Adam:
He’s only a poor little oddly-come-short! Take him, Alter Ego; he belongs to you.
Alter Ego:
Thanks; you can keep him. It was your heap of clay he crawled out of, you know!
Adam:
Yes, but you’d been sitting on it! You created him!
Alter Ego:
You just drop making insinuations of that sort! I don’t create fleas or mere individuals like someone I could mention! Look here, Oddly-Come-Short; you go along with that gentleman—see?
Oddly-Come-Short:
Yessir.
Adam:
You dare! Oddly-Come-Short, go along with him. He’s your master because he was the first to give you a kick.
Oddly-Come-Short:
Right in the ribs, sir, he did.
Alter Ego:
He’ll get another if he doesn’t go where he belongs! He’s nothing to do with me! And the other offences, Adam, shall be settled between us at a more fitting time!
[He strides off to the left.
Adam:
At your service, sir! We’ll pay you out for your scandalous behaviour!
[Exit right.
Oddly-Come-Short:
And they don’t give me nothing to eat! (He scratches himself.) Oddly-Come-Short, you just look after yourself!
Curtain