|[The Barrett Collection contains a 15-page manuscript in MT's hand of a portion of the script of Ah Sin. The passage begins about a third of the way through act one, in the middle of York's soliloquy about the photograph of Miss Tempest that he has just found. The first page is numbered both "1" and "16 ½," which suggests this elaborated exchange between York and Plunkett was a later addition to the script. (The rest of the pages are numbered "1 & 2" through "15.") The few words that MT wrote and then crossed out are set off in < >. There are numerous differences between this version and the promptbook, most minor; significant cuts are italicized (and to avoid confusion, in this one text, italicized words and phrases inside dialogue are underlined).]|
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York (Continuing) (Rapturously) <O, it> (Gazing upon it)--O, it is divine!--simply divine! (Looking around furtively) It's like profanation, but (Kisses it) I do it rev-- (Kiss) reverently. O, as reverently as if (Kiss) it were a pagan's idol & I were (Kiss) the <humblest> meanest & the humblest pagan among all her host of adorers. (Kiss)
Plunkett (aside)--Hello, but he's got it bad. Got the picture, too. Well, 'at's all right, it belongs to him--
(York is still adoring the picture--hasn't discovered Plunkett.)--
But if he asks questions, what'll I----She told me to keep still about to-day's talk.
York (discovers Plunkett & is confused.) O, is that you? Tell me (feigning indifference)
Plunkett--That? O yes--it's mine.
York--But I mean, who does the original belong to.
Plunkett--(with simplicity) Belongs to me.
York--(astonished) To you!
Plunkett--(with unruffled calmness)--Certainly--that is my daughter.
York--(trapped into animation)--Why she's divi--a--a-- (confused again)--very good looking.
(Music.) Enter Ah Sin, U.E., with huge carpet bag to get the gold.
---- me gittee that gold.
He sees the 2 men--steals aside & then steps around pocketing little things--pockets York's revolver, he being
Ah Sin (aside)--Leckon him never see photograph before.
Plunkett--Yes--yes--she's well enough, though nothing to what her mother was at her age. Born rich, but didn't spoil her--she's as lowly & simple as a cauliflower. Say--how's stocks to-day?
York--(absently) Stocks? What kind of stocks?
York (absently)--Yes--O yes--certainly. (Intent on picture)--(musingly) O, she's unrivaled!
Plunkett--Head of the list, hey? By George I said it, a week ago I did, that very thing. Now that's beautiful.
York--O, most beautiful!
Plunkett--Now all she wants is the right sort of handling-- <& if> but she's never had it.
Plunkett--It's just as I tell you, & I ought to know. O, the leather-headedest job 't ever was.
York--And yet what a perfectly exquisite result. It seems incredible.
Plunkett--Well, it does. But it's so. First, they'd crowd her every way they could think of, for a spell--
York--O, that was so unwise--& such a pity.
York--O, shameful, shameful! (aside) Poor child; poor child!
Plunkett--That's the word. Shameful. You've got it. Yes, Sir, one spell they'd do the right thing by her, & get her up so ship-shape & gay, that it would done your soul good to look at her.
York--I can easily
Plunkett--And then again, you know, they'd let her run down & get ornery--O, perfect rag-tag & bob-tail!
York--It was cruel--it was brutal!
Plunkett--That's just what I said. Brutal--that was my word. Why looky-here--I'll tell you what they done once. You see, they'd sunk on her about a thousand feet--
(York begins to stare at him)
York--(interrupting) An air shaft?
Plunkett--Yes--an air shaft--&--
Plunkett--(interrupting in a loud, annoyed voice)--Yes an air shaft, you ass!--are you <hard o' hearing> deaf? Sunk an air shaft on her, 'bout a thousand feet, then they drifted south 300 feet & couldn't find anything.
Plunkett--(loud) That's what I said. Couldn't find anything--so they cut across from wall to wall--she was about 13 foot wide, there--& timbered her up so she wouldn't cave in--just stoped [sic] her out, you know, till she was as empty as a jug--& then what do these everlasting fools do but put in a blast--'bout 2 ton of nitro-glycerine . . . & by George when that blast went off
York--(interrupting) Who are you talking about?
Plunkett--Who! I ain't talking about any who. <Who'd you spose I was talking 'bout?> I'm talking 'bout the Mary Ann.
York--The Mary Ann.
York--I supposed you were talking about your daughter.
Plunkett--(stares at him about a minute) What have you been eating to-day?
York--I don't know. Why?
Well it's well it settled on your mind. If it had settled on your stomach 'twould a' killed you. But say--never mind my chaff. I wouldn't hurt
York--(interrupting eagerly)--Not a word of that, not a word! It's a pleasure to me to lend it--a pleasure! (forcing the $15 on the reluctant Plunk.) There, take it--Yes, I assure you I can spare it--to you!
O, thank you, thank you! (seizing both his hands)