Magic

Stranger. I have done such a thing.

Morris. [With a sneer.] Will you disappear now?

Stranger. [After reflection.] No, I think I'll appear instead. [He throws back his hood, showing the head of an intellectual-looking man, young but rather worn. Then he unfastens his cloak and throws it off, emerging in complete modern evening dress. He advances down the room towards the Duke, taking out his watch as he does so.] Good-evening, your Grace. I'm afraid I'm rather too early for the performance. But this gentleman [with a gesture towards Morris] seemed rather impatient for it to begin.

Duke. [Rather at a loss.] Oh, good-evening. Why, really – are you the…?

Stranger. [Bowing.] Yes. I am the Conjurer.

    [There is general laughter, except from Patricia. As the others mingle in talk, the Stranger goes up to her.

Stranger. [Very sadly.] I am very sorry I am not a wizard.

Patricia. I wish you were a thief instead.

Stranger. Have I committed a worse crime than thieving?

Patricia. You have committed the cruellest crime, I think, that there is.

Stranger. And what is the cruellest crime?

Patricia. Stealing a child's toy.

Stranger. And what have I stolen?

Patricia. A fairy tale.

CURTAIN

ACT II

The same room lighted more brilliantly an hour later in the evening. On one side a table covered with packs of cards, pyramids, etc., at which the Conjurer in evening dress is standing quietly setting out his tricks. A little more in the foreground the Duke; and Hastings with a number of papers.

Hastings. There are only a few small matters. Here are the programmes of the entertainment your Grace wanted. Mr. Carleon wishes to see them very much.

Duke. Thanks, thanks. [Takes the programmes.]

Hastings. Shall I carry them for your Grace?

Duke. No, no; I shan't forget, I shan't forget. Why, you've no idea how businesslike I am. We have to be, you know. [Vaguely.] I know you're a bit of a Socialist; but I assure you there's a good deal to do – stake in the country, and all that. Look at remembering faces now! The King never forgets faces. [Waves the programmes about.] I never forget faces. [Catches sight of the Conjurer and genially draws him into the discussion.] Why, the Professor here who performs before the King [puts down the programmes] – you see it on the caravans, you know – performs before the King almost every night, I suppose…

Conjurer. [Smiling.] I sometimes let his Majesty have an evening off. And turn my attention, of course, to the very highest nobility. But naturally I have performed before every sovereign potentate, white and black. There never was a conjurer who hadn't.

Duke. That's right, that's right! And you'll say with me that the great business for a King is remembering people?

Conjurer. I should say it was remembering which people to remember.

Duke. Well, well, now… [Looks round rather wildly for something.] Being really businesslike…

Hastings. Shall I take the programmes for your Grace?

Duke. [Picking them up.] No, no, I shan't forget. Is there anything else?

Hastings. I have to go down the village about the wire to Stratford. The only other thing at all urgent is the Militant Vegetarians.

Duke. Ah! The Militant Vegetarians! You've heard of them, I'm sure. Won't obey the law [to the Conjurer] so long as the Government serves out meat.

Conjurer. Let them be comforted. There are a good many people who don't get much meat.

Duke. Well, well, I'm bound to say they're very enthusiastic. Advanced, too – oh, certainly advanced. Like Joan of Arc.

[Short silence, in which the Conjurer stares at him.]

Conjurer. Was Joan of Arc a Vegetarian?

Duke. Oh, well, it's a very high ideal, after all. The Sacredness of Life, you know – the Sacredness of Life. [Shakes his head.] But they carry it too far. They killed a policeman down in Kent.

Conjurer. Killed a policeman? How Vegetarian! Well, I suppose it was, so long as they didn't eat him.

Hastings. They are asking only for small subscriptions. Indeed, they prefer to collect a large number of half-crowns, to prove the popularity of their movement. But I should advise…

Duke. Oh, give them three shillings, then.

Hastings. If I might suggest…

Duke. Hang it all! We gave the Anti-Vegetarians three shillings. It seems only fair.

Hastings. If I might suggest anything, I think your Grace will be wise not to subscribe in this case. The Anti-Vegetarians have already used their funds to form gangs ostensibly to protect their own meetings. And if the Vegetarians use theirs to break up the meetings – well, it will look rather funny that we have paid roughs on both sides. It will be rather difficult to explain when it comes before the magistrate.

Duke. But I shall be the magistrate. [Conjurer stares at him again.] That's the system, my dear Hastings, that's the advantage of the system. Not a logical system – no Rousseau in it – but see how well it works! I shall be the very best magistrate that could be on the Bench. The others would be biassed, you know. Old Sir Lawrence is a Vegetarian himself; and might be hard on the Anti-Vegetarian roughs. Colonel Crashaw would be sure to be hard on the Vegetarian roughs. But if I've paid both of 'em, of course I shan't be hard on either of 'em – and there you have it. Just perfect impartiality.

Hastings. [Restrainedly.] Shall I take the programmes, your Grace?

Duke. [Heartily.] No, no; I won't forget 'em. [Exit Hastings.] Well, Professor, what's the news in the conjuring world?

Conjurer. I fear there is never any news in the conjuring world.

Duke. Don't you have a newspaper or something? Everybody has a newspaper now, you know. The – er – Daily Sword-Swallower or that sort of thing?

Conjurer. No, I have been a journalist myself; but I think journalism and conjuring will always be incompatible.

Duke. Incompatible – Oh, but that's where I differ – that's where I take larger views! Larger laws, as old Buffle said. Nothing's incompatible, you know – except husband and wife and so on; you must talk to Morris about that. It's wonderful the way incompatibility has gone forward in the States.

Conjurer. I only mean that the two trades rest on opposite principles. The whole point of being a conjurer is that you won't explain a thing that has happened.

Duke. Well, and the journalist?

Conjurer. Well, the whole point of being a journalist is that you do explain a thing that hasn't happened.