MRS. LEVI:

Ephraim Levi, I’m going to get married again. Ephraim, I’m marrying Horace Vandergelder for his money. I’m going to send his money out doing all the things you taught me. Oh, it won’t be a marriage in the sense that we had one—but I shall certainly make him happy, and Ephraim—I’m tired. I’m tired of living from hand to mouth, and I’m asking your permission, Ephraim—will you give me away?

Now addressing the audience, she holds up the purse.

Money! Money!—it’s like the sun we walk under; it can kill or cure.—Mr. Vandergelder’s money! Vandergelder’s never tired of saying most of the people in the world are fools, and in a way he’s right, isn’t he? Himself, Irene, Cornelius, myself! But there comes a moment in everybody’s life when he must decide whether he’ll live among human beings or not—a fool among fools or a fool alone.

As for me, I’ve decided to live among them.

I wasn’t always so. After my husband’s death I retired into myself. Yes, in the evenings, I’d put out the cat, and I’d lock the door, and I’d make myself a little rum toddy; and before I went to bed I’d say a little prayer, thanking God that I was independent—that no one else’s life was mixed up with mine. And when ten o’clock sounded from Trinity Church tower, I fell off to sleep and I was a perfectly contented woman. And one night, after two years of this, an oak leaf fell out of my Bible. I had placed it there on the day my husband asked me to marry him; a perfectly good oak leaf—but without color and without life. And suddenly I realized that for a long time I had not shed one tear; nor had I been filled with the wonderful hope that something or other would turn out well. I saw that I was like that oak leaf, and on that night I decided to rejoin the human race.

Yes, we’re all fools and we’re all in danger of destroying the world with our folly. But the surest way to keep us out of harm is to give us the four or five human pleasures that are our right in the world,—and that takes a little money!

The difference between a little money and no money at all is enormous—and can shatter the world. And the difference between a little money and an enormous amount of money is very slight—and that, also, can shatter the world.

Money, I’ve always felt, money—pardon my expression—is like manure; it’s not worth a thing unless it’s spread about encouraging young things to grow.

Anyway,—that’s the opinion of the second Mrs. Vandergelder.

VANDERGELDER enters with two cups of coffee. With his back, he closes both doors.

VANDERGELDER:

Miss Van Huysen asked me to bring you this.

MRS. LEVI:

Thank you both. Sit down and rest yourself. What’s been going on in the kitchen?

VANDERGELDER:

A lot of foolishness. Everybody falling in love with everybody. I forgave ’em; Ermengarde and that artist.