or
sink with all that in me is. Men have done it. But not
Edgar Poe! Sell my soul for a broth-dish--a saucepan--a
feather-bed--

Mrs. S. O, he's out of his mind, sure he is! My sweet Eddie, he's
loved me distracted!

Poe. Can this be woman?

Mrs. S. Law me!

Poe. The sex that knew a Virginia--that knows a Helen? No!
there are men, women ... and angels!

Mrs. S. Look here, Mr. Poe, don't you mention no women 'round me!
O, Eddy, my Eddy! (Offers to caress him)

Poe. Away! You wench from Venus' kitchen! (Going) This weather
... once I could have braved it with the wildest wing that
ever flew. But now.... (coughs wretchedly)

Mrs. S. No rent an' no husband either!

Poe. Up, heart, we go! Henceforth I live by spirit-bread! Lead
me, ye unseen comrades, to immortal feasts! (Exit)

(CURTAIN)

Scene II: An hour later. A bar-room. Door in center, rear. Four
men at table, left, rear, playing cards.

Haines. Was afraid you wouldn't show up to-night, Juggy.

Juggers.
Nothing like a stormy night for a good game. Never miss
one. Rain brings me luck.

Black. Then, by Jacks, you'll have it all your way to-night. It's
pouring hogsheads. Your deal, Sharp. (They play in
silence. Poe enters, rear, walks uncertainly across the
room and takes a seat, right, front. There seems to be
life only in his eyes, their burning light revealing a
soul struggling free from a corpse. He sits unnoticed for
a short time)

Sharp. (To barkeeper) Say, Thomas, I thought this was a
gentleman's house. What's that in the corner? Looks like a
coffin might 'a' spilt it on the way to the graveyard.

Bark. (In lower tone) He's one o' these writin' fellers in hard
luck. I've let him hang around here a good deal, for he's
always quiet and gives me no show for kickin' him out. But
say the word and he goes.

Haines. Looks more like a sick man than a bum.

Sharp. Bah! He can drink till he wets his boots. I know that sort
of a face.

Bark. Never drinks anything 'round here.

Sharp. Good reason. You don't wear a charity medal.

Jug. Let him stay for luck.

Sharp. Whose luck? You're doing all the winning to-night,
Juggers. He's a Jonah for the rest