Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE GARRET, by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE GARRET, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: You ... Adah ... Here!
Last Line: Will all be stretching their long necks, and crowing.


Persons:

ISAAC OXLEY.
ADAH ROBSON.

Scene: A garret in the slums, furnished only with a bed.
It is almost midnight; but ADAH ROBSON, with her hat
and jacket on, and an old carpet-bag by her side, sits
on an empty box by the window, in the light reflected
from the lamps in the court below. Presently a step
is heard on the stairs; th

ISAAC. You ... Adah ... here!
ADAH. Yes, Isaac, I have come.
ISAAC. Come ... Adah ... come?
But how've you come so far?
ADAH. Much of the way I walked;
And only took the train,
When I could trail no farther.
ISAAC. 'Twas a long way for you to come alone.
And how, lass, did you find me --
You, who had never seen a bigger town
Than Morton, with its one long straggling street?
ADAH. I had the letter with me that you wrote,
So long ago.
And folk were good to me.
And, when I was dumbfounded by the noise,
And by the throngs of people
That, like a never-ending flock of sheep,
Met in a narrow lane,
Daft with the yapping of the dogs,
Scurried and jostled round me,
Some one would pity my bewilderment,
And put me on the way;
Though many that I asked
Had never even heard of Barker's Court.
But all of them were kind,
And did their best to help me.
ISAAC. How long have you been here?
ADAH. Close on three hours.
ISAAC. So long!
ADAH. I could have cried,
I was so wearied;
And after all,
When I got here, to find you out!
ISAAC. I'm sorry, lass.
If I'd but known...
ADAH. The neighbours could not tell me where you were;
But thought that night
Would bring you home.
ISAAC. Home, lass!
It's well that you won hither,
Safe through the streets.
Were you not frightened, Adah?
ADAH. Though sore bewildered,
I was not afraid.
The folk were kind.
ISAAC. Ay, folk are kind enough,
As far as words go,
And are always willing
To squander breath on strangers;
For city-folk are not like hill-folk, Adah.
But why did you leave home?
ADAH. To come to you...
But you're not pleased to see me.
ISAAC. Yes, lass; you know ... but...
ADAH. Mother died last week,
And I have no one else to turn to.
And, Isaac, when you went away,
You said you'd come again for me;
And that is nigh a year since.
I waited for you;
Yet you never came.
And when my mother died,
I had no home;
And so I thought...
But, maybe, I did wrong
To come to you like this.
But you...
You said...
And still you did not come;
And only wrote one letter.
Why did you never come for me?
You said you would.
When you had found...
ISAAC. When I had found a home for you.
But I have found no home.
ADAH. Yet this...
ISAAC. This is no home for you --
This empty garret.
ADAH. It's bare;
Still, we soon...
ISAAC. We soon!
Nay, you must not stay here;
You must go back again.
ADAH. I must go back?
ISAAC. You must go home.
ADAH. I have no home...
I thought...
But I did wrong to come.
Forgive me, Isaac; yet...
ISAAC. O Adah, lass,
There's nothing to forgive.
But you can never live here --
Here in this reeking hell.
And I...
How could I bear to see you starve...
ADAH. To see me starve!
Why should I starve?
For I am strong;
And I can work.
ISAAC. When I came to the city first,
I, too, was strong;
And I could work;
And yet,
I starve.
ADAH. Starve, Isaac!
Oh, but you are thin and worn!
While you were standing in the dark,
I did not see;
But now the light falls on you,
You look famished.
Are you not working, Isaac?
Are you ill --
Too ill to work?
ISAAC. Nay, Adah, I'm not ill,
Save for the want of work.
ADAH. A man like you,
Who used to work...
ISAAC. Ay, lass,
While there was work for me.
You know how hard I toiled at home,
Until my father died,
And Stephen married;
And there was room for me no longer;
And not a cottage in the countryside
That I could get,
For love or money,
To make a home
For you and me.
And I was forced to turn my back
On all familiar things --
On all that I'd grown up with,
And all that had not changed,
Since first I blinked in daylight;
To leave my friends,
And go out into the world,
To seek my fortune among strangers --
A stranger among strangers --
To seek my fortune!
ADAH. And have you not found...
ISAAC. My fortune?
Ay, here is my fortune, lass,
This empty garret
In the mouth of hell.
ADAH. Yet, when you left,
You were so full of hope,
And said that in the city
There would be work enough;
Ay, and a home for us.
ISAAC. Yes, I was hopeful,
For I was strong,
And full of meat,
And did not know in cities strong men starve --
Starve in the midst of plenty,
And wander, homeless,
In a maze of houses.
ADAH. But, wherefor...
ISAAC. Because there is no work for them.
"If a man toil not, neither shall he eat."
It's a just law, I thought,
While I could labour,
And eat my fill.
But when there was no work for me,
And I saw many who had never worked,
Rich, and full-fed, and happy,
While old men starved,
Because work failed them,
Things seemed quite different.
You know that life's not easy
For us poor country folk at any time;
Still, at the worst,
Up ere the dawn, and labouring till dark,
We somehow scrape along
On hard-won earnings;
For while there's work, there's hope;
But when work fails...
ADAH. And you have had no work,
Since you left home?
ISAAC. Nay, none that I call work.
ADAH. How have you lived?
ISAAC. You know I'd saved a pound or two
Towards our home...
ADAH. But that would never serve...
ISAAC. Nay, 'twas soon gone;
Though I spent sparingly enough, God knows!
I should have died without it.
It's hungry tramping through the streets all day
From works to works,
And standing in the throng
Outside the factory gates,
Still hoping against hope, that when they open,
I, too, may be allowed to slip inside.
But times are bad;
And when the gates close to,
I ever find myself among the crowd,
Shut out from work and bread.
ADAH. How have you lived?
ISAAC. Why, lass, I hardly know --
And odd job here and there;
Enough to put a copper in the pocket;
Still, never fit work for a man like me.
These hands, lass, were not made
To open carriage doors --
These arms to carry papers --
And this big, hulking body,
To scramble in the gutter
With starveling boys for life!
ADAH. Nay, surely!
ISAAC. O Adah, you must go away from here;
For here men starve;
Ay, men and women starve;
And starving folk are ill to live with.
Such sights I've seen!
I did not think that hell could hold such sights.
But here, where hundreds hunger,
And wander shelterless at night,
Or sleep beneath dark arches,
Or on cold benches, wrapped in soaking fog,
Here ... here is hell!...
Go ... go ... before...
ADAH. O Isaac, you are ill!
ISAAC. Nay, I'm not ill!
ADAH. Yet you seem faint.
ISAAC. Naught ails me -- save starvation.
One cannot trudge all day
Without a bite...
ADAH. Oh, you are famished!
And I'm hungry too,
For I've had little since I left.
I thought to find you sooner,
And then together...
ISAAC. You are hungry, Adah!
And I have naught to offer,
Not a crust.
The cupboard is quite empty,
As empty as my pocket.
I have not earned a copper all day long.
ADAH. But I've some money, Isaac,
Though not much;
Still, a few shillings.
There was little left
When mother died.
Yet, while there is a penny,
Why should we sit and hunger?
I'll go and buy some food,
If there's a bite to get at such an hour.
ISAAC. Yes, there is always food to get...
For money.
ADAH. Then I will go...
ISAAC. Nay, you shall not go down
Into that hell at such a time of night.
I'll get the food.
ADAH. But you're too weak.
ISAAC. Nay, I am strong enough...
It is not far.
ADAH. Then take the purse.
ISAAC. Nay, lass; it's safer here;
And sixpence is enough to buy a feast.
It's long since I've had silver in my hand.
Would God that I had earned it!
I hardly like to take your money.
ADAH. O Isaac, I am famished!
ISAAC. I'll not be long.

[He goes out, and is heard hurrying downstairs. ADAH
takes off her hat and jacket, and unpacks her bag,
laying her scanty stock of clothes and other
belongings on the bed; then, unfolding a parcel, she
takes out a cheap tin clock and winds it up, and sets
it on the mantelpiece, where it ticks lo

ADAH. So quickly!
ISAAC. 'Twas not far;
And I came back as quickly as I could,
Lest it should get too cold,
And filled with fog.
Come, take a drink,
While there's some heat in it;
'Twill do you good.
ADAH. Nay, you drink first.
You need it more than I.
ISAAC. Nay, lass, it's yours.
And I -- I have no cup.
I paid a penny for the basin;
But they will make that good again,
When I return it.
ADAH. You'd not take it back --
The first thing that you've bought to set up house with!
If you've no cup,
Can we not drink together from the basin,
As man and wife
In their own home?
We are not strangers.
ISAAC. Set up house...
As man and wife...
Together...
In their home...
Nay, lass,
That cannot be.
You shall not starve for my sake.
Oh, had you seen the faces round the stall --
The hungry faces in the flare
Of naphtha, and the eyes
That glared out from the shadows greedily;
And as I passed them with the coffee,
The cold, blue lips that drank up the rich steam,
As though they feasted...
ADAH. And you'd naught for them!
ISAAC. To one poor girl I gave
A penny of your money;
A child, almost, she seemed!
But she was naught but skin and bone, and rags --
And oh, such eyes;
I little thought I'd live to see
That look in any girl's eyes.
But when the body starves,
The best of us are weak;
And there's small blame
To such as she.
ADAH. Come drink your coffee, lad.
It's long since we two supped together.
ISAAC. A merry meeting this!
Hark!
What is that?
A clock!
Where did it come from?
ADAH. Don't you know it, Isaac?
I brought it with me;
It's my very own.
They could not take it from me.
I'd paid for it at Morton Fair
With my own money.
And, while you were gone,
I took it from my bag,
And wound it up.
Things seemed more homelike
When I heard it ticking.
ISAAC. Homelike...
Ay, Adah, there's a kind of comfort
In listening to the ticking of a clock.
That coffee's made another man of me.
This garret never seemed like home before.
Yet, since you came, somehow...
But you must go to-morrow.
ADAH. Go ... Isaac ... where?
ISAAC. I do not know.
I only know,
If you stay here,
You'll starve.
ADAH. And if I go, I'll starve.
Why should we starve apart?
But we'll not starve, lad,
If we stick together.
We'll win through somehow.
Though there's none for you,
There may be work for me;
And better times will come,
And bring you work.
ISAAC. I've trudged the streets,
All day...
ADAH. But that day's gone;
And has not even it brought something to you?
ISAAC. Ay; though it's been a black and bitter day --
The ending's brave.
If there were no to-morrow...
ADAH. We don't know what to-morrow brings.
ISAAC. To-morrow!
Lass, have I not said
Unto my heart each night
To-morrow will bring work?
And yet, to-morrow
Comes ever empty-handed.
ADAH. Nay, surely, Isaac,
Yesterday your garret
Was bare save for the bed and this old box.
Now have you not a clock and basin
To start housekeeping with?
ISAAC. And you?
ADAH. If you will let me stay...
ISAAC. If I will let you ... let you...
O lass, I cannot let you go again,
Though we should starve...
ADAH. We shall not starve...
But live and work together. [The clock strikes.]
ISAAC. It's a brave clock.
ADAH. What! three, already!
And to-morrow comes.
The day is not far off,
Though it is dark.
ISAAC. Ay, lass;
And now, at home, the village cocks
Will all be stretching their long necks, and crowing.





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