Voice: Stephen, Stephen I have come for you my dear husband.
Girard: Is that
you Mary with a voice ever so clear as it was when I first offered you fresh
water from the street pump?
Mary: It is. It
is. And you have taken your sweet time getting here.
Girard: I can
hardly believe my ears. You are as frisky as I remember you to be when first we
honeymooned aboard my boat in the harbor. Has your illness left you?
Mary: It has, as
well as all those other earthbound concerns. I have so much to thank you for.
The roses you left at my grave each month were a joy to me. I thank you as well
for never taking another woman in marriage. I do know, however, that you did
not go unattended. May I show myself to you?
Girard: I would
immediately say yes but for the fear that you might be still the beautifully
chaste bride who gave herself so eagerly to me. I, as you can plainly see, am
not a pleasant sight in my advanced years.
Mary: You are and
always will be my darling Stephen. Now, look at me. (Mary appears as the lovely
young woman. It takes Girard’s breath away.)
Girard: Even in
my heyday, I could never deserve so beautiful or so enchanting a bride. But
what are those three dark spots on your cheek?
Mary: Ah, my
Stephen, with only one eye which has now grown dim, you still see more than most
of us. The spots on my cheek are marks of shame. They signify the three times I
was unfaithful.
Girard: For
thirty-five years, while suffering with a troubled mind, you strayed only three
times? You are an angel. When I pass and if I can still have you near me, you
will count the spots on me like those of an African hyena. No, my dear, you
have nothing to reproach yourself about.
Mary: And yet you
attempted to divorce me.
Girard: On so
many occasions, I was told by doctors of the hospital that your condition was
irreversible. I was convinced that I would precede you in death and then you
would be incapable of managing my financial legacy. I thought of divorce to
protect the dream I had of founding an orphanage for poor fatherless boys.
Mary: Yes, it’s
astonishing how clearly I now see. But you Stephen were so blind to the fact I
could truly love you. So many times you were insanely jealous of the men who
only looked at me.
Girard: And the
ones that kissed you when I was away.
Mary: Don’t
begrudge me for my pleasant appearance. It is the only attribute I had to offer
a young brilliant man with so promising a future. Even your flirtatious brother
was childish in my eyes. I wanted many children because I knew it would make
you happy. You accused me of infertility, since all the Girards were so prone
to reproduction. I’ll have you know that one of my dark spots produced a child.
Have you ever, with your playful mistresses, produced an heir?
Girard: My
soothsayer tells me that I will be the father of many children but none will be
an issue of my loin.
Washington: Well,
Girard, it seems you have forgotten your other guest, (Turning to Mary). Allow
me to introduce myself. I am George Washington.
Girard: General
George Washington served under le Marquis de Lafayette in the War of American
Independence.
Washington: And
they all said that you were humorless.
Mary: I am very
pleased to meet such a distinguished friend of my soon-to-be-departed husband.
Girard: General
Washington also has the distinction of being the first President of the United
States of America.
Washington: And
your husband, Madam, wanted to be the first French Ambassador to the United
States.
Girard: How in
the world did you learn of that?
Washington: But,
Mrs. Girard, he decided instead to be the first millionaire of this nation. You
may not know it, Madam, not once but twice he came to the rescue of America.
Aside from being a hero of Philadelphia during the epidemics beginning in 1793,
he also provided the American government with most of his fortune to fight the
British in the War of 1812. Without his generosity, we, as a nation, might have
ceased to exist.
Girard: Again, it
must have been a latent need of the oppressed immigrant to survive in a hostile
environment.
Washington: Or
the dedication and patriotism of a man destined for greatness.
Mary: I died in
1815, many years after you, General. You seem to be much better informed than I
am.
Washington:
Perhaps it is the network of presidents that keeps me informed.
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