
'He keeps cows.'
'You're an actor. You belong on the stage.'
'The playhouse will manage very well without me.'
'This is treasonable talk, Sam!' urged Fowler. 'Actors never give up. They go on acting to the bitter end. Heavens, man, you're one of us!
'Not any more, Will.'
'You will miss the playhouse mightily,' said Nicholas.
'Miss it?' echoed Fowler. 'It will be like having a limb hacked off. Two limbs. Yes, and two of something else as well, Sam. Will you surrender your manhood so easily? How can anyone exist without the theatre?'
'Cows have their own consolation,' suggested Ruff.
'Leave off this arrant nonsense about a farm!' ordered his friend with a peremptory wave of his arm. 'You'll not desert us. D'you know what Nick and I talked about as we walked here tonight? We spoke about the acting profession. All its pain and setback and stabbing horror. Why do we put up with it?'
'Why, indeed?' said Ruff gloomily.
'Nick had the answer. On compulsion. It answers a need in us, Sam, and I've just realized what that need is.'
'Have you?'
'Danger.'
'Danger?'
'You've felt it every bit as much as I have, Sam,' said Fowler with eyes aglow. 'The danger of testing yourself in front or a live audience, of risking their displeasure, of taking chances, of being out there with nothing but a gaudy costume and a few lines of verse to hold them. That's why I do it, Sam, to have that feeling dread coursing through my veins, to know that excitement, to face that danger! It makes it all worthwhile.'
'Only if you are employed, Will,' observed Ruff.
'Where will you get your danger, Sam?'
'A tow can give a man a nasty kick at times.'
‘I'll give you a nasty kick if your persist like this!'
'My mind is made up, Will.'
Further argument was futile. No matter how hard he tried, Fowler could not deflect his friend from his purpose. Nicholas was brought in to add the weight of his persuasion but it was in vain. Samuel Ruff had decided to return to Norwich- It would be a hard life but he would have a softer lodging than the Hope and Anchor.
