Act 2 — ACT II
Reading edition
THE PRESS (solum):
The President “received” last night—all smiles, Charming the throng with amiable wiles. But Loeb, with flaming eyes and flying feet, Sprang in and kicked them all into the street!
TWO FAVORITES
Wood, a Medicated Warrior. Miles, a Soldier. Satan, a Statesman. Chorus of Citizens.
MILES (to Wood):
Sir, I have ventured to observe with what I hope is a becoming modesty, that not In vain have been your sacrifices, nor Quite thrown away your aptitude for war. Service and genius—these are things that count, With (if you’re cavalry) the skill to mount. Somewhat, too, doubtless, it promotes your gains In rank and honors to possess the brains To know enough to go in when it rains.
WOOD:
Some know enough to note the fine effect Of sunshine on their uniform.
MILES:
Correct: I’ve keener joy to see the daybeam smite My gay attire than you to see it light Your military record. Let’s get through— I’d rather bandy swords than words with you. But you’re a man of peace—a doctor, sir; To save life, not to take it, you prefer; And in the Spanish War your taste was shown In saving with consummate skill your own. By that you earned, according to my notion, More leather medals, not so much promotion.
CHORUS OF CITIZENS:
By that he earned, according to our notion, More leather medals, not so much promotion.
MILES:
When you’re a general in chief command, May peace dwell ever in this happy land!
CHORUS OF CITIZENS:
When he’s a general in chief command, May peace dwell ever in this happy land!
WOOD:
From Santiago’s veins I drained the fever.
MILES:
When shown by Lawton how to make it leave her.
WOOD:
I washed Havana.
MILES:
Yes, you made the mud flow Right lively when you had been taught by Ludlow.
WOOD:
My service——
MILES:
’Twas of silver, was it not?— Given you by gamblers for the Lord knows what! Well, take your honors—they’re well earned, I think, By working for yourself with printer’s ink And feats of fawning—all the arts, in fine, Whereby our peace-time heroes rise and shine. Rather than witness more of your intrigues I’ll mount a bronco and ride thirty leagues!
WOOD:
Well, two Administrations, you’ll agree, I have been served and honored by.
SATAN:
Dear me, I’ve had the favor and support of three.
A DIPLOMATIC TRIUMPH
President Roosevelt. Secretary of State Hay.
The President—Say, John, I wish you would see the Chinese Minister and tell him that Russia is complaining that China does not observe a strict neutrality. Tell him that she is imperiling her administrative entity.
Secretary Hay—I have already done so, sir; and I ventured to add that an oyster schooner that had just arrived from below had a very large mast.
The P.—What the dickens had that to do with it?
S. H.—Ah, you are not skilled in the language of diplomacy; it was an oblique reference to the “big stick.” The Chink understood; he was born on one of the days before yesterday.
The P.—And what did he say?
S. H.—Everything: put his hands into his long sleeves, crossed them on his breast and bowed three times, profoundly silent. Then he retired.
The P.—I am from Wyoming and you’ll have to explain.
S. H.—It’s all right. I at once summoned the other Ambassadors (except the Russian and the Japanese) and told them that you had made the most forcible representations to the Chinese Empress regarding her Majesty’s breaches——
The P.—Her what? You said that?
S. H.—Of neutrality. They were greatly impressed.
The P.—What did they say?
S. H.—What could they say? They bowed and went out, one by one, leaving the door open. The Open Door is what we stand for. It is all over.
The P.—Except the shouting.
S. H.—Secretary Loeb will see to that. He has prepared a statement of the incident for the press.
[Tumult within—cheers and fishhorns.]
The P.—What’s that?
S. H.—The shouting.
A SUCKED ORANGE
The President. Root, Secretary of State.
ROOT:
O world-power President, strenuous, mighty-mouthed, audible, able, Director of destiny, arbiter morum, compeller of princes, Why this dejected demeanor, this sighing that signifies something Gone wrong with the organ wherewith you were happy aforetime? O, keep me No longer a-guessing: divulge to your faithful Elihu the hidden Vermicular monster that gnaws at the core of the executive bosom— Nay, feeds on the damask of that which mainly attests your distinction.
PRESIDENT:
Alas, ’tis no worm that is secretly plying the hardy incision; From troubles intestinal I and my country have present exemption— Albeit the Democrats, turbulent ever and always disloyal, Continue to shout of political contributions, demanding A needless accounting, and some hint at restitution. My sorrow Has better foundation. King Edward of England has joined the Mikado In making a shameless alliance to tighten their grip upon Asia!
ROOT:
Why, surely, my master, we have the advantage: this compact secures us Continuous peace in the Orient, gives us the door that is open. Prevents the partition of China—in brief it establishes firmly All that my great predecessor (aside) (whom the Angel of Death, in his wisdom, Removed from my path to the White House) (aloud) so gallantly strove to accomplish.
PRESIDENT:
What’s that got to do with it, idiot? A broad-minded statesman (behold him!) O’erlooks, like a man on a stepladder, trivial and transient advantage, Discerning the meaning and menace of methods that mark the achievement. Not once in all the proceedings that led to this hardy alliance Was uttered, or written, or thought of, the name of Theodore Roosevelt! [Exit.]
ROOT (solus):
O, dammit! why should they consult him?— there wasn’t a roasting chestnut To pull from the fire—and his fingers still smart from the Peace of Portsmouth.
A TWISTED TALE
Roosevelt, President. Hay, Secretary of State. Cassini, Russian Ambassador.
HAY:
Good morning, Count. Sir, are you well to-day?
CASSINI:
Quite well, I thank your Excellency. Pray Inform me if your physical condition Is satisfactory to your physician.
HAY:
O no, indeed: I’m sounder than an apple.
CASSINI (aside):
The fellow’s wormy.
HAY:
Now, then, let us grapple With “Bessarabian outrages” and such. Some recent—ah—um—er—have pained us much. Christians and Jews alike are up in arms Here in America, and this alarms The President. He tells me I’m expected To take a firm stand till the thing’s corrected.
CASSINI:
So good of him! That means there’s trouble brewing: If we stay wicked there’ll be “something doing.” If, for example, we ignore your cross talk You’ll send a monitor to Vladivostok.
HAY:
O no, my friend, it might mean more than play If public sentiment could have its way. Our people are so wroth it might mean war Did naught prevent—but that’s what I am for. As ’tis, it means that an election’s coming, And to succeed we’ve got to keep things humming.
CASSINI:
In other words, it means just nothing.
HAY:
Yes, That is about the size of it, I guess. The Jewish vote, you understand——
CASSINI:
I see: To help you get it you apply to me; And my Imperial Master is the cat To pull your chestnuts from the fire. Well, “Scat, You beast!” is not the right command.
HAY:
My noble friend, you do not understand. What I shall offer to you for transmission Is nothing but a courteous petition, Which if you pocket (winking) on your own head be it. I shall have done my duty as I see it.
CASSINI:
But how about your master?
HAY:
He’s all right; He must make faces, but he need not fight.
CASSINI:
Hand in the document without delay— ’Twill go on file. I bid you, sir, good day. [Exit Cassini; enter Roosevelt.]
ROOSEVELT:
Well, John, I trust you broke no bones. Did you Caution that candle-eater what we’ll do If one more Hebrew they annoy? Does he Clearly perceive they’ll have to deal with Me?
HAY:
Well, I should say so! Sir, I plainly said You’d heap their land with tumuli of dead; Hang by the heels the Czar until he’d weep His shoes full; load the sanguinary deep With battleships until ’twould overwhelm The seaboard cities of their monkey realm; Encumber it with wrecks and floating carcasses!
ROOSEVELT:
That programme is more strenuous than Marcus’s— Hanna, my master. He would never dare To twist the tail of the fierce Russian bear. I’m big enough to tackle any brute! [Exit Roosevelt.]
HAY (solus):
I too am quite a sizable galoot.
POST MORTEM
The President. Miles, Commander of the Army. Root, Secretary of War. Loeb, Private Secretary to President. Hull, Chairman of Committee on Military Affairs. An Orderly.