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diff --git a/41033-0.txt b/41033-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..95d149a --- /dev/null +++ b/41033-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3608 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41033 *** + +THE SILVER SHIELD. + +AN ORIGINAL COMEDY +_IN THREE ACTS._ + +BY +SYDNEY GRUNDY. + +_Copyright,_ 1898, _by Thomas Henry French._ + + London: | New York: +SAMUEL FRENCH, | SAMUEL FRENCH & SON, + PUBLISHER, | PUBLISHERS, + 89, STRAND. | 38, EAST 14TH STREET. + + + + _Strand Theatre, _Comedy, + London, London, + May 19, 1885._ June 20, 1885._ + +SIR HUMPHREY CHETWYND MR. JOHN BEAUCHAMP. MR. JOHN BEAUCHAMP. + +REV. DR. DOZEY MR. RUTLAND MR. PERCY COMPTON. + BARRINGTON. + +TOM POTTER MR. ARTHUR DACRE. MR. ARTHUR DACRE. + +NED CHETWYND MR. W. HERBERT. MR. PERCY LYNDAL. + +MR. DODSON DICK MR. CHAS. GROVES. MR. ARTHUR ROBERTS. + +ALMA BLAKE MISS AMY ROSELLE. MISS AMY ROSELLE. + +MRS. DOZEY MRS. LEIGH MURRAY. MISS MARIA DAVIS. + +SUSAN MISS JULIA ROSELLE. MISS JULIA ROSELLE. + +WILSON MISS F. LAVENDER. MISS F. LAVENDER. + +LUCY PRESTON MISS KATE RORKE. MISS KATE RORKE. + + + +THE SILVER SHIELD. + +ACT I. + +SCENE.--_A hall; passages, R. and L.; a double window of stained +glass, on swivel hinges, opens upon a lawn, with view of grounds; +large portrait on the wall; landscape, and mirror; a staircase, L. TOM +POTTER discovered working at an easel placed near the open window; NED +CHETWYND seated at a table, opening and destroying letters leisurely. +LUCY PRESTON watching him; MRS. DOZEY asleep in an armchair, with a +book of sermons lying open in her lap; footstool; fireplace, R.; large +armchair side of fireplace._ + +LUCY. You've a great many letters? + +NED. A few friends inquiring after me. + +LUCY. More creditors? + +NED. A regular assortment. I have 'em of all sizes--big and little; of +all styles--polite to peremptory; of all nations--Jew and Gentile. +(_opens another letter_) Another lawyer's letter! (_LUCY goes up to +TOM_) "Unless the amount, together with our charges, five and +sixpence, be at once remitted----" Just so--common form. (_opens +another letter_) + +LUCY. Getting on, Mr. Potter? + +TOM. Famously. + +LUCY. I can begin to make out what it's going to be. + +TOM. Don't say that, please. + +LUCY. Why not? + +TOM. I shall be told I am a servile copyist without a soul. + +LUCY. Soul? What is "soul"? + +TOM. The gift of representing things as they don't exist. + +LUCY. Surely that isn't a gift. Isn't it art to show things as they +are? + +TOM. Not in the least. That's realism. + +LUCY. Then what's art? + +TOM. That's art. (_points to portrait, L._) + +LUCY. Sir Humphrey's portrait. + +TOM. (_crosses to portrait, L._) I beg your pardon--whose? + +LUCY. Sir Humphrey's. Can't you see the likeness? + +TOM. Has anybody seen it? + +LUCY. Of course! a score of people. + +TOM. It'd take a score. (_crosses to easel_) + +LUCY. (_turns to TOM_) It is by Sir Clarence Gibbs, the Royal +Academician, and it cost five hundred guineas. + +TOM. Ah! If I could only paint like that. (_looks at portrait_) + +LUCY. (_looking at picture_) Perhaps you will in time. + +TOM. Never. I may deteriorate, but I shall never be as bad as that. +(_looking at picture_) Now, look at this aggravating thing. After all +my trouble you can positively tell what it's meant for. (_NED rises +and joins them_) + +LUCY. Yes, two knights, on horseback, fighting. + +NED. What are you going to call it? + +TOM. The Silver Shield. + +LUCY. Silver Shield? (_crosses to back of easel; NED leans on back of +chair_) + +TOM. Haven't you heard the fable? Two knights, riding in opposite +directions, passed a shield, hung on a tree to mark a boundary, and +meeting some time afterwards, one of them happened to make some remark +about the Silver Shield they had both ridden past. "Silver," exclaimed +the other, "it was gold." Then they disputed, and words came to blows. +They fought, and killed each other. When they were both dead, it +occurred to somebody to examine the shield, when it turned out that it +was gold on one side, and silver on the other. + +NED. What jackasses those two knights must have been. + +TOM. So remarked everybody. + +LUCY. Well, they _were_ rather silly. (_crosses to MRS. DOZEY, R._) + +TOM. No sillier than we are, who see a fool in the looking-glass, and +don't recognise him. + +MRS. D. (_waking with a start_) Bless me! I've been asleep. + +LUCY. For two hours, Mrs. Dozey. + +MRS. D. I beg everybody's pardon. The fact is, I thought I was in +church, and Dionysius was preaching. + +NED. That sent you off to sleep. (_sitting on edge of chair_) + +MRS. D. Oh, no, that woke me up. I wouldn't miss one of his discourses +for the world. This is a splendid one I'm reading now--the 22nd, in +the 17th volume. + +LUCY. You have got so far? + +MRS. D. Yes, my dear; I've read sixteen volumes of the twenty. The set +were given to me by my husband on our honeymoon. Imagine my delight. +I've been reading at them steadily for five and twenty years, and my +only fear is that I shan't live to finish them. + +NED. Take warning, Lucy, and begin them young. + +MRS. D. Shall I lend you the first volume? + +LUCY. Thanks; I can get it from the library. + +MRS. D. I'm sure you'd like it, Mr. Potter. + +TOM. Unfortunately, I am going home to-day, and shouldn't have time to +do it justice. (_meanwhile DR. DOZEY has entered absently, his eyes +cast down, his hands behind his back_) + +DR. (_raising his eyes_) Going home? + +MRS. D. Ah, here's the doctor! (_dozes off again_) + +DR. Home! sweet home! The very phrase is fraught with poetry. One +seems to stand before the glowing fire, to hear the purring cat, the +hissing urn, whilst from without a quaint but welcome cry heralds the +advent of the evening milk on its accustomed round. If you are wishful +to pursue the subject---- + +LUCY. (_crosses in front to staircase_) Excuse me, I must look after +Sir Humphrey. (_Exit, L._) + +DR. (_turning to NED_) I would refer you to---- + +NED. Thank you very much, but I've some letters to answer. (_Exit, +R._) + +DR. (_turning to TOM_) To the tenth discourse---- + +TOM. The light's so bad here, I must go outside. (_Exit through +window, C._) + +DR. (_turning to MRS. DOZEY_) In my fifth volume. + +SIR H. (_top of stairs, L._) See to it at once. + +DR. Home I divide into three sections. First---- (_MRS. DOZEY snores, +DR. DOZEY stops and wakes her._) + +LUCY. (_with SIR HUMPHREY, top of stairs, L._) Will you take my arm? + +SIR H. Thanks, I need no assistance. (_stumbles and is obliged to take +LUCY'S arm_) Dear me, how bad my rheumatism is to-day. + +DR. (_turns to MRS. DOZEY, smiling grimly_) Poor Humphrey! + +MRS. D. (_rises_) He gets very feeble. + +SIR H. (_to LUCY_) Mrs. Blake's train is very nearly due. See if the +brougham has been sent to meet her. + +MRS. D. Mrs. Blake? (_Exit LUCY, through window, C. and L._) + +SIR H. A visitor whom we expect today. (_puts cap on table_) + +DR. A lady visitor? + +SIR H. Yes, a young widow, from Australia, whom we met on the +Continent this summer, and whose society proved so agreeable (_DR. and +MRS. DOZEY exchange glances_) to my ward, Miss Preston, that I invited +her to visit us, when she returned to England. + +MRS. D. A widow. (_crosses in front to L._) + +DR. An Australian widow. (_gets R._) + +MRS. D. It's a long way off. + +SIR H. Don't you like widows, doctor? + +DR. Far be it from me, whose tenement is glass, to cut a stone; but of +all types of widow, the most perilous is the Colonial. + +MRS. D. However, it's our duty to be charitable. + +DR. Until we know the worst we will think the best. + +SIR H. Wait till you've met Mrs. Blake; you'll be charmed with her. +(_meanwhile TOM has re-entered through window and down R. of easel_) +You mustn't go till you have seen her, Mr. Potter. (_turns_) + +TOM. Till I've seen whom? + +MRS. D. A widow. (_moves towards door, L._) + +DR. A Colonial widow. (_moves towards door, R._) + +MRS. D. Sir Humphrey picked up on the Continent. + +DR. And found charming. (_both sigh and exeunt, wagging their heads; +DR. DOZEY, R.; MRS. DOZEY, L._) + +TOM. Queer couple--a duet personified. + +SIR H. The doctor will have his joke. + +TOM. That's fortunate, for no one else would take it. + +SIR H. Very old friends of mine, and one must make allowances for age +and infirmity. (_sitting with difficulty, R. of table_) + +TOM. Can I assist you? (_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY_) + +SIR H. Not at all. It's only a little stiffness in the joints. I never +felt it till the last few years. + +TOM. Ah, we're all older than we used to be. (_goes to easel_) + +SIR H. Not at all, Mr. Potter, not at all. I'm younger than I look. I +have had trouble. + +TOM. You, Sir Humphrey! + +SIR H. My son gives me a great deal of anxiety. His heart's in the +right place, I know, but he's young, reckless, and extravagant. He's +taken to writing lately. A bad sign, Mr. Potter, a bad sign. I never +knew a young man who took to writing come to any good. I've paid his +debts more than once, and he won't settle down. I found a charming +wife for him, and he wouldn't look at her. He has views of his +own--very bad things to have. Why can't men be content with the views +of their forefathers? The opinions which are good enough for me ought +to be good enough for a stripling like him. + +TOM. Our forefathers believed the sun went round the earth. + +SIR H. And what better are we for believing the earth goes round the +sun? I've no patience with these revolutionary ideas. They unsettle +men's minds. Of course you don't agree with me. You are another man +with views, and that's the reason why you don't get on. + +TOM. (_comes down C._) You don't like me, Sir Humphrey. You are very +kind and hospitable; but I know it's only as a distant relative that +you put up with me. I don't wonder at it. You represent society; I +represent Bohemia. This makes it difficult to say what I must say +before I go. + +SIR H. What is that, Mr. Potter? + +TOM. I want to ask your ward, Miss Preston, if she'll be my wife. +You're astonished at my presumption--naturally. + +SIR H. Not quite that. What are Miss Preston's feelings in the matter? + +TOM. I don't know. I didn't feel justified in speaking to her first. + +SIR H. She is of full age, and can please herself. + +TOM. Yes, but there's something else. You know, I took my present name +when I went in for art, to your disgust, on my return from abroad +about five years ago; but of my previous history you know very little, +and I must tell you part of it. I suppose you think I'm a bachelor? + +SIR H. Of course. + +TOM. I am a widower. + +SIR H. You astound me. + +TOM. Yes, I once had a wife; but we weren't happy--in fact, we +separated. + +SIR H. How long has she been dead? + +TOM. A few months after my return to England I saw her death announced +in the newspapers. + +SIR H. The newspapers! + +TOM. There is no irony like that of destiny, no cynic half as cynical +as life. Two beings live together in one home, are bound together in +one interest, are animated by one hope. Fate separates them. They go +different ways, and after many days (_crosses to R._) they read about +each other in the newspaper. + +SIR H. She died abroad? Then you were never reconciled? + +TOM. Reconciliation was impossible. I should prefer to say no more +about it, (_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY, L._) but I am bound to satisfy +you I was not to blame. Those were the last words my wife wrote to me. +(_gives a letter to SIR HUMPHREY_) + +SIR H. (_reads_) "Tom,--I love another more than I love you. Isn't it +best that we should say good-bye? I have no right to tell you I will +never see you, for the fault is mine; but if I do, it will be only +painful, and I leave it to your magnanimity to go away from me for +ever." (_returns letter to TOM_) Enough, Mr. Potter. (_rises_) There +was a time when I disapproved of second marriages. They struck me as a +species of inconstancy. But as one grows in years, these sentimental +notions lose their force. One begins to realise the loneliness of +life. You understand me? + +TOM. Perfectly. The need of a companion. + +SIR H. More than a companion--the need of a--of a--I want a word. + +TOM. Nurse is the word you want. + +SIR H. No, sir! It is the very word I do _not_ want. + +TOM. I beg your pardon, I misunderstood you. + +SIR H. Strange as it may sound, what you've just told me makes my task +a little easier. Miss Preston also has a history. Her mother died when +she was quite a child. Her father was my very oldest friend, whom I +respected beyond everything, and it was only on his death, when I felt +I could not repudiate the guardianship I'd undertaken, that I made a +discovery which shocked me inexpressibly. I tell it you in confidence; +I have told no one but my son, whom it was my duty to put upon his +guard. Of course it puts an end to the proposal you have made, but, as +a man of honour, I am bound to tell you. + +TOM. Well, sir? + +SIR H. The girl is illegitimate. (_turning, L._) + +TOM. What's that? + +SIR H. (_turns and stares at him_) Mr. Potter, you call yourself a +Bohemian, but you are a distant--very distant--relative of my own, and +you must have at least the instincts of a gentleman. + +TOM. I hope so. + +SIR H. Having those instincts, you will think no more of her. + +TOM. Having those instincts, I think all the more of her. + +SIR H. You'd marry her, after what I've told you? Then you have no +respect for marriage. + +TOM. If I had no respect for marriage I shouldn't marry her. + +SIR H. We will not argue, sir. Go your own way. + +TOM. I've your permission? + +SIR H. But don't hold me responsible, whatever happens. + +_Re-enter DR. DOZEY, through window, and down, C._ + +DR. The widow has arrived. + +SIR H. Mrs. Blake? + +DR. I was sedately pacing up and down the drive, reflecting on the +vanity of life, when I was nearly upset by her equipage. + +SIR H. I must go and welcome her. Excuse me, Mr. Potter; the doctor +will entertain you. (_Exit through window_) + +TOM. Thanks, but I'll find Miss Preston. (_Exit, R._) + +_Re-enter MRS. DOZEY, down the stairs, in a flutter of excitement._ + +MRS. D. Dionysius? + +DR. Diana? + +MRS. D. I've seen Mrs. Blake. I happened to be looking out as she +drove up. There's no doubt about her respectability. You should see +her lace. Oh, Dionysius, real Valenciennes! (_crosses, R._) + +DR. I am afraid, my love, that notwithstanding five and twenty years +of my companionship, you have still a yearning after the pomps and +vanities. And yet it is not the plaiting of hair or the putting on of +real Valenciennes that constitutes respectability. + +_Re-enter SIR HUMPHREY with ALMA BLAKE._ + +ALMA. Oh, what a charming place. + +SIR H. My own taste, plain but comfortable. Permit me to present to +you my old friends, Dr. and Mrs. Dozey. + +ALMA. I am delighted to meet Dr. Dozey. + +MRS. D. (_crosses to ALMA_) With whose sermons no doubt you are +acquainted. + +ALMA. I don't read sermons, as a rule. + +MRS. D. You don't read sermons? + +ALMA. It may be very wicked, but I don't. (_crosses, L._) + +DR. (_aside to MRS. DOZEY_) A worldly-minded woman. + +MRS. D. I'm afraid so. + +ALMA. What a delightful, quaint, old-fashioned place this is! I must +congratulate you on your taste, Sir Humphrey. + +SIR H. Plain, but comfortable. + +ALMA. Whose portrait's this? Isn't he a dear old dignified soul? Quite +one of the last century. + +SIR H. It is considered much too old for me. + +ALMA. For _you!_ Oh, fifty years! I thought it was your grandfather. + +DR. Makes herself quite at home. (_aside to MRS. DOZEY_) + +MRS. D. Ignores me altogether. (_sits, R._) + +ALMA. What's this? A mirror, I declare! (_arranges herself before the +glass_) + +SIR H. My taste again. + +ALMA. The looking-glass? + +SIR H. The image it enshrines. (_bowing_) + +ALMA. I understand you. Plain, but comfortable. (_laughs and passes +on; gradually gets round, and down, R._) + +DR. (_aside to MRS. DOZEY_) Frivolous creature. (_goes up, R., and +down, R.C._) + +MRS. D. Lovely diamonds! + +ALMA. (_at easel_) That's a good picture. Who's the artist? + +SIR H. (_following ALMA_) Nobody particular. A sort of second or third +cousin of mine. + +ALMA. Whoever he is, he's clever. + +SIR H. Started life under the best auspices, but he has made no way. + +ALMA. How's that, Sir Humphrey? (_both come down, C._) + +SIR H. It's the old story. First he got amongst a set of loose +companions,--Bohemians, they called themselves--and then he took +to---- + +ALMA. Drink? + +SIR H. Not drink exactly--art. (_sits R. of table_) + +ALMA. Oh dear! how very sad! + +SIR H. The doctor knows the circumstances. + +DR. (_down, R.C._) They were most distressing. + +ALMA. But after all, some artists are successful, and a man must begin +at the beginning. There's nothing wicked about art, is there, doctor? + +DR. A perilous pursuit, and it is not the part of a wise man to play +with fire. (_ALMA pulls a long face, and is caught by MRS. DOZEY_) + +SIR H. I've no objection to a real artist, an Academician, such as Sir +Clarence Gibbs, who painted my own portrait. A very gentlemanly man, +indeed--received in the best families. + +ALMA. But _he_ must have learnt his business before he became an +Academician. (_looking at portrait_) + +SIR H. I doubt it. + +ALMA. So do I. (_turning to easel_) Now there is talent in that +picture. The man who did that shouldn't have gone wrong. + +MRS. D. But he became a scene painter! + +DR. He got connected with a theatre. (_both groan_) + +SIR H. (_uncomfortable_) Hem! Hem! (_tries to attract DR. DOZEY'S +attention_) + +ALMA. You don't approve of theatres? + +DR. My views on the subject of the drama you will find fully expounded +in the 13th sermon of my 20th volume. For the present I will content +myself with saying that those views are damnatory. (_crosses, L._) + +SIR H. Pardon me, doctor, but I should have told you, Mrs. Blake is +herself connected with the stage. + +DR. (_dropping glasses_) An actress! (_MRS. DOZEY rises and drops +book_) + +ALMA. You've dropped the sermons. (_stoops to pick up book_) Heavy, I +dare say. + +MRS. D. (_stopping her with a gesture, picks it up herself_) Thank +you. (_goes up to armchair at back_) + +DR. And so this is an actress. Bless my soul! (_Exit, L._) + +MRS. D. Somehow or other one can always tell them. (_sits, opens, +book, and dozes off_) + +SIR H. (_rises_) You must excuse my friends. + +ALMA. With pleasure. It's rather a relief than otherwise. They seem to +have a nice opinion of actresses. + +SIR H. The truth is, they have had no opportunity of forming one. + +ALMA. But have formed a very strong one, for all that. + +SIR H. Now that they have the opportunity---- + +ALMA. Let's hope it'll alter the opinion. + +_Enter SUSAN, R._ + +SUSAN. If you please, miss---- + +ALMA. Susan, don't call me miss. This is my maid, Sir Humphrey. I'm +always called "miss" at the theatre, when I'm called anything at all. +What is it, Susan? + +SUSAN. Mr. Dick is here--wants to see you particularly. + +ALMA. Tell him I'm engaged. What business has he bothering me here? + +SUSAN. But he's come down from town express. + +ALMA. Well, he can go back express. + +SIR H. One moment, Mrs. Blake. Who is this gentleman? + +ALMA. My manager. I don't know what he wants. + +SIR H. See him, by all means. Perhaps he'll stay to dinner if I ask +him. + +ALMA. Ah, you don't know Dick. He'll probably stay to dinner whether +you ask him or not. He's one of the old school of managers; they're +almost extinct now. Dick's the sole survivor. + +SIR H. I'm one of the old school myself, and shall be glad to meet +him. + +SUSAN. Here he is, with Mr. Chetwynd. + +_Re-enter NED, with MR. DODSON DICK, R._ + +NED. This way, Mr. Dick. (_goes up to easel_) + +DICK. (_crosses to ALMA_) Ah, there she is. (_Exit SUSAN, R._) Didn't +expect to see _me,_ did you? Here's a nice how d'you-do. Within four +weeks of opening, and Sparkle not delivered his first act. Thought I'd +run down and tell you. What are we to do? + +ALMA. This is Sir Humphrey Chetwynd--Mr. Dick. + +DICK. (_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY_) Pleased to make your acquaintance. +Nice sort of place you have down here. (_looking round_) + +SIR H. Quiet, Mr. Dick, and yet accessible. + +DICK. Out of the way, I call it--out of my way, at any rate. Make a +good set, eh, wouldn't it? That window's fine, opens out the scene, +and shows that landscape backing. Daren't use that sky. Scrubbs is the +man for skies. + +SIR H. Is he indeed? + +DICK. There's an originality about his skies--you never saw such +skies. The critics go in for originality. Scrubbs gives it 'em. + +ALMA. And don't they give it Scrubbs? + +DICK. Ha! ha! I'll make a note of that. Give it to Sparkle--do for his +next comedy. Poor Sparkle! Clever man, but sadly overworked. No wonder +he's behindhand with our piece. + +ALMA. It's your own fault. Give someone else a chance. + +DICK. No! no! Sparkle's recognised. + +NED. (_coming down, R._) His jokes are. + +DICK. That doesn't matter. It's his name I want. The public judges +only by the brand. One play's just as good as another. + +SIR H. That's your experience? + +DICK. Yes. On the whole, I think a bad play's better than a good one, +but we none of us know anything about it. + +ALMA. If you would only try him, here is an author to your hand. + +DICK. (_alarmed_) You--an author? (_puts hat on_) + +NED. Only last week I wrote to you about a play I'd sent you. + +DICK. (_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY; pulls out watch_) How are your +trains, Sir Humphrey? I've an appointment at four sharp, in town. + +SIR H. I see you are a man of business. + +DICK. Yes, I'm a cheesemonger. + +SIR H. A cheesemonger. I thought you were a theatrical manager? + +DICK. Same thing. A theatre's only a shop, and ought to be worked on +the same principles. + +NED. Or want of principles? + +DICK. Same thing. If my customers want a bad article, I give it 'em. +It's not my fault, it's theirs. + +SIR H. A philosopher as well as a cheesemonger! + +DICK. My dear sir, all cheesemongers are philosophers. + +SIR H. And all philosophers are fond of a good dinner. I hope you will +join our party, Mr. Dick. (_crosses, R._) + +DICK. With pleasure. (_puts hat down on table_) + +ALMA. But your appointment at four sharp. + +DICK. I'll keep that to-morrow. + +SIR H. Meanwhile, a biscuit. + +DICK. (_aside_) A biscuit. + +SIR H. And a glass of Heidseck. + +DICK. (_following SIR HUMPHREY off, R._) Heidseck, certainly. (_takes +hat_) + +SIR H. Come with me, Mrs. Blake? + +ALMA. Thank you, I'll stop with Ned. + +DICK. (_turns_) Capital set. First-rate. Can't say I like that sky. +Scrubbs is the man for skies. (_Exit with SIR HUMPHREY, R._) + +ALMA. (_crosses to L._) Now, Mr. Chetwynd. (_sits L. of table_) You +never told me about this comedy. What's it all about? What's my part +like? + +NED. Why it's _all_ you! I thought of no one else, and called the +heroine "Alma" after you. (_sits R. of table_) + +ALMA. You dear old goose! If I were a manager, I should accept your +pieces without reading them. + +NED. Excuse me. If you were a manager, you would reject them without +reading them. + +ALMA. Not yours. You are my oldest admirer. + +NED. What nonsense! I never met you till last year. + +ALMA. Well, what of that? I've had a score since then, but they've all +disappeared, and there you are still. + +NED. Faithful to the last. + +ALMA. The last's a long way off yet, Mr. Chetwynd. He's trundling a +hoop somewhere at this moment. But he'll turn up. Each season brings +its crop. They're mostly annuals, my loves. + +NED. I am an amaranth. + +ALMA. That locket on your chain? Isn't it the one you put my portrait +in? (_rises to examine it_) + +NED. Yes. + +ALMA. And he wears it still! You are an amaranth, indeed. (_about to +open locket_) + +NED. You'd better not. + +ALMA. Do let me see. I've quite forgotten what I looked like then. +(_opens it; kneels_) + +NED. Just as you like. + +ALMA. How I have altered! + +NED. You look younger there. + +ALMA. And my hair's different. + +NED. The fashion's changed. + +ALMA. Yes, and the colour too. There! Shut it up. (_rises_) + +NED. Twelve months make a difference. + +ALMA. Don't they? My amaranth has faded like the rest! (_pause_) And +pray, why do you wear Miss Preston's photograph? + +NED. (_after making sure that MRS. DOZEY is asleep; rises_) Can you +keep a secret? + +ALMA. I've kept one for six years. + +NED. Miss Preston is my wife. + +ALMA. Your wife! + +NED. You are so quick, I knew you'd find it out, or I should have said +nothing. We don't want anyone to know--at least, _I_ don't--just yet. + +ALMA. Doesn't Sir Humphrey? + +NED. No. + +ALMA. I thought he was her guardian. + +NED. She's twenty-one. He's not her guardian now. + +ALMA. But he's your father, and you've done a thing like this. She, +too! + +NED. It wasn't her fault. It was mine, if it was anyone's. But it was +no use speaking to my father. Lucy wanted to, but I knew more than she +did. The governor's the best old fellow in the world, but upon certain +points he is as obstinate as--as---- + +ALMA. His son. + +NED. As I am, if you like. + +ALMA. Why was it no use speaking to him? + +NED. Because he would never have given his consent. The fact is, +Lucy's mother was separated from her husband. She married very young, +and he left her before she was twenty. Not being able to get a +divorce, of course she couldn't marry again, and consequently Lucy's +father couldn't marry her. That's the whole mystery. Lucy doesn't know +it, but I did, and I knew it was useless talking. So we were married +secretly, this year. + +ALMA. And when do you propose to acknowledge your wife? + +NED. I don't know yet, (_crosses, L._) but when the right time comes. + +ALMA. The right time was the day you married her. + +NED. Ah, it's all very well to talk, but you have no idea how much it +would hurt the governor. (_crosses to ALMA_) It would have cut him to +the heart. + +ALMA. A very good reason for not marrying, but a very bad reason for +concealing your marriage. + +NED. It was to spare his feelings. + +ALMA. Don't flatter yourself. It was to spare your own. + +NED. Well, it's done now, and I can't help it. + +ALMA. But you can. You can tell him to-day. + +NED. (_sits R. of table_) That would be worse than telling him +earlier. + +ALMA. (_crosses to NED_) And better than telling him later. You've +done wrong, and you're doing wrong now. The only point in your favour +is that you're thoroughly ashamed of yourself. (_crosses to R.C._) + +NED. Ashamed! nay---- + +ALMA. I can see it in your face. No hoarding like a human countenance, +and no bill-sticker like a guilty conscience. + +NED. Alma, I _am_ ashamed. + +ALMA. (_crosses to NED_) Be as much ashamed of yourself as you like, +but don't be ashamed of your wife. + +NED. I'll tell Sir Humphrey--to-morrow. + +ALMA. To-day. (_holding her hands out_) + +NED. If I can screw my courage up. + +BOTH. (_shaking hands_) To-day. + +ALMA. I'll screw it up for you. You won't want much. Fathers are not +such dreadful animals after all. There was a time when children were +afraid of their parents, but now-a-days they're lucky parents who're +not afraid of their children. (_Re-enter DR. DOZEY, C., and down, +R.C._) Aren't they, doctor? + +DR. I crave forgiveness. Your observation escaped me. + +ALMA. Ah, you were lost in thought. + +DR. I was meditating, it is true. + +ALMA. Lost in meditation. Thank you, for the correction. + +_NED rises; goes aside thoughtfully._ + +DR. Lost in amazement. + +ALMA. Amazement. Beg your pardon. Got it at last. + +DR. That our paths, which are so diverse, should have crossed. + +ALMA. It's a queer meeting, certainly, but, you know, accidents will +happen. + +DR. (_raising his hand_) Pardon me, there is no such thing as +accident. It is true that fortune, like misfortune, makes us +acquainted with strange---- + +ALMA. Hem! + +DR. I will amend my illustration. + +ALMA. Thank you. + +DR. Rough-hew them how we may, our ends are shaped for us. Doubtless +we have been brought together for some wise purpose. I propose, +therefore, to improve your acquaintance. + +ALMA. Hadn't you better improve _me?_ Never mind my acquaintance. + +DR. That is the object which I have in view. Even the rose needs +careful nurturing, ere it will bloom like--like--what shall I say? + +ALMA. Say what you like. I won't be offended. + +DR. Like those I see before me. + +ALMA. These? (_taking one from her dress_) Would you like one? + +DR. I am unused to meretricious ornament. + +ALMA. Doctor! Don't call my poor rose such hard names. Stand still. +I'll put it in your buttonhole. + +DR. (_whilst she arranges it_) There can be no objection to a simple +flower. (_crosses to table_) + +ALMA. There! You look quite a masher! + +DR. Eh! (_turning_) + +ALMA. Picture, I meant! Picture, picture. + +DR. Do I, indeed? (_goes to mirror, turns, and smiles_) A flower _is_ +an adornment. (_stands admiring himself; ALMA goes up to NED, and taps +him on the shoulder, points to DR. DOZEY, and can scarcely restrain +her laughter; DR. DOZEY comes down, L., soliloquising_) A comely +woman. Not unprepossessing. Whatever the contents may be, the exterior +of the platter is attractive. (_the book drops from MRS. DOZEY'S lap; +turns_) What was that? + +NED. (_at easel_) It's only Mrs. Dozey. (_crosses with ALMA to R.C._) + +DR. My wife there! (_crosses to MRS. DOZEY, R._) + +ALMA. You needn't be alarmed. She's fast asleep. + +DR. (_picking up book_) And with my sermons on her lap again. (_wakes +her_) Diana! + +MRS. D. (_waking_) It's very strange, I can't get to sleep. (_rises_) +You must know, Mrs. Blake, I am a victim to insomnia. + +ALMA. I see. You take sermons medicinally. + +MRS. D. Good gracious, Dionysius! What have you there? (_points to +buttonhole_) + +DR. A rose, my love--a simple rose. There is no evil in a simple rose. + +NED. Don't you admire it? + +MRS. D. I don't like the look of it at all. Where did you get it from? + +DR. Hem! hem! (_fidgetting with the book; down, R.C._) A tendency to +be too interrogative is the besetting weakness of the age we live in. + +MRS. D. Come, Dionysius, the truth! + +DR. It is to this undue yearning after truth that I attribute the +prevailing scepticism. + +MRS. D. That isn't answering my question. + +ALMA. (_conquering her laughter, comes to his rescue_) I'm sorry you +don't like it, Mrs. Dozey. Your husband thought you'd be so pleased +with it. (_gives DR. DOZEY a slight nudge_) + +MRS. D. He gathered it for _me!_ + +DR. (_presenting it_) Diana, you are always on my mind. + +MRS. D. How can I thank you, Dionysius? (_embraces DR. DOZEY, while +ALMA shakes hands with him behind his back, where he is holding the +book_) + +DR. (_turning aside, and down, R._) That is a very clever woman. +(_opens book and reads; business with ALMA, as below_) + +_Re-enter SIR HUMPHREY and DICK, R._ + +DICK. (_wiping his mouth_) Capital Heidseck. + +SIR H. Glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Dick. + +DICK. Capital wine. + +MRS. D. Sir Humphrey, see what Dionysius has given me. (_showing +rose_) + +SIR H. Charming--exquisite! + +DICK. Call that a rose? + +SIR H. Mr. Dick--Mrs. Dozey. + +DICK. My man, Groggins, would turn you out a better article. +Groggins's the man for flowers. + +MRS. D. (_to DICK_) Your gardener, sir? + +DICK. Gardener? No. My property master. Marvellous florist! Nature's +not in it with Groggins. + +NED. (_to DICK_) You don't seem to have a very high opinion of nature? + +DICK. No, sir. Nature was only a beginner. Don't like amateurs, except +for _matinees._ + +_Meanwhile ALMA has been making signs to DR. DOZEY, pointing to +buttonhole and MRS. DOZEY; DR. DOZEY, behind the open book, responds +in pantomime; MRS. DOZEY observing this comes down between them; DR. +DOZEY drops his eyes on book and turns off; she pursues him; ALMA +turns off to SIR HUMPHREY, who leaves NED with DICK._ + +ALMA. (_getting round back_) Sir Humphrey, you must take me round the +park. I haven't seen half the beauties of the place. + +SIR H. Nothing would please me better. Ned, we're going out into the +grounds. Perhaps Mr. Dick would like to see them. + +DICK. Certainly. Give me an appetite for dinner. (_to NED_) What time +do you dine? + +ALMA. (_going out with SIR HUMPHREY_) Doctor, won't you come with us? +(_making eyes at him_) + +DR. (_with alacrity_) Surely! + +MRS. D. (_crosses, R., checking him_) Dionysius! + +SIR H. (_to ALMA_) Take my arm, Mrs. Blake. + +ALMA. I like the doctor. (_taking SIR HUMPHREY'S arm_) + +SIR H. An old schoolfellow. + +ALMA. He's going to "nurture" me. Isn't it kind of him? (_Exit with +SIR HUMPHREY, through window, off R._) + +DICK. (_following with NED_) Sorry I lost your comedy. If a romantic +drama would be any compensation, or a tragedy in seven acts, or a +historical pageant in thirteen tableaux, come to the theatre and take +your choice. (_Exit with NED through window, C., off L._) + +DR. (_crosses, C._) My love, you are in error. + +MRS. D. Nonsense! You've been philandering for the last ten minutes. +_You,_ Dionysius, who have always professed such horror of stage +players. + +DR. Mrs. Blake may be regarded in two aspects. + +MRS. D. You've been regarding her in half-a-dozen! + +DR. It is our duty to hate sin, but to love sinners. One may, at one +and the same time, abhor the acting---- + +MRS. D. And adore the actress! + +DR. I should prefer to say, regard the actress with that measure of +fraternal sympathy to which all our erring sisters are entitled. + +MRS. D. But which only the good-looking ones get. (_re-enter LUCY, +down staircase, L._) No, Dionysius, it won't do! A little less of that +fraternal sympathy, if you please. + +LUCY. What's the matter, Mrs. Dozey? (_DR. DOZEY gets up, R._) + +MRS. D. Matter! Why that stage-player---- + +LUCY. Mrs. Blake? + +MRS. D. Has been at her stage tricks! + +DR. (_crosses to R.C._) Diana, you are excited. + +MRS. D. Well, I may be. (_crosses, R._) You never looked at _me_ as +long as I caught you looking at _her._ (_going off, R._) + +DR. My angel, I have been gazing at you steadfastly for a quarter of a +century. (_Exit after her, R._) + +_Re-enter TOM, through window, C.R._ + +TOM. Good gracious, Mrs. Dozey's wide-awake! + +LUCY. She's caught the doctor napping this time. She seems quite +jealous of Mrs. Blake already. + +TOM. The widow? Has she come? + +LUCY. I met her at the door. + +TOM. Well, is she as charming as Sir Humphrey says? + +LUCY. I suppose she must be. At the hotel when we first met her she +turned everybody's head. Sir Humphrey was smitten on the spot, and as +for Ned, well, he behaved disgracefully. I wish you weren't going, +Tom! + +TOM. Do you? + +LUCY. I should like to see what impression she'd make upon _you._ I +don't believe you could admire anybody. + +TOM. Am I so hard to please? + +LUCY. A regular old cynic! + +TOM. And what's a cynic? A poor devil, who's fool enough to put into +words the harshness wise men put into their deeds, and fool enough to +put into deeds the kindness wise men put into their words. Your cynic +is the softest of mankind, and as a rule he's been in love before he +was a cynic. (_crosses to L._) + +LUCY. (_crosses to R._) Surely you haven't? + +TOM. I've been most things, Lucy. + +LUCY. Except a husband. (_laughing_) + +TOM. I've been that. + +LUCY. (_crosses to TOM_) A husband! No! Surely you're joking? Oh, I +can't believe it. + +TOM. What's much more singular, I want to be married again. + +LUCY. Were you so happy? + +TOM. No, I wasn't happy. + +LUCY. Didn't you like your wife? + +TOM. Yes, I adored her. So did someone else. + +LUCY. Well? + +TOM. I suppose she adored him. (_sits R. of table_) + +LUCY. She left you! (_getting back_) + +TOM. No, I left _her!_ Six years ago! On a bright summer day--just +such a day as this. As I passed down the walk I caught my last glimpse +of her through a window, as it might be there. (_pointing to window_) +I can almost see her now, framed like a picture in the window frame, +with the sun streaming down on her, for all the world like---- +(_rises_) + +_ALMA suddenly appears on the lawn outside, standing an instant in the +sunshine, with her head turned to SIR HUMPHREY, who passes the window +a moment afterwards._ + +ALMA. Oh, what a lovely lawn! We must have tennis there, Sir Humphrey. + +SIR H. If I could play the game---- + +ALMA. I'll teach you. (_they pass on, R., out of sight_) + +LUCY. Tom, what's the matter? + +TOM. Who was that--passed the window? + +LUCY. That was Mrs. Blake. What do you think of her? + +TOM. Blake? + +LUCY. I believe _you're_ smitten. Men are all alike. + +TOM. Just in time--only just. + +LUCY. What are you talking about? Just in time for what? + +TOM. (_recovering himself_) My train, of course. I'd quite forgotten +it. I must make haste, or I shall miss it. + +LUCY. Don't run away like that. + +TOM. Say good-bye to Sir Humphrey, will you, Lucy? Tell him to think +no more about what I said just now. He'll understand you. + +LUCY. Tom, you're not going in this way? + +TOM. (_crosses to R._) I must go. (_turns to LUCY_) Make my apologies. + +LUCY. Without even your picture. + +TOM. I can send for that. (_Exit, R._) + +_Re-enter DICK and NED through window._ + +DICK. I don't think much of it. I can't say I think much of it. Not a +patch on one in my last comedy. Potts' masterpiece! Potts is the man +for exteriors. + +_Re-enter ALMA and SIR HUMPHREY through window, L._ + +ALMA. Clever! It's more than clever. + +SIR H. I must introduce you to the painter. + +ALMA. I should like to know him. In these days, it's quite refreshing +to meet an artist whose art is intelligible without a catalogue and +half a column of criticism. + +_Re-enter MRS. DOZEY, R._ + +SIR H. Lucy, where's Mr. Potter? Mrs. Blake has been admiring his +sketch, and wants to congratulate him. + +LUCY. He has just gone. + +SIR H. Gone? + +MRS. D. Mr. Potter gone? + +LUCY. He said he'd barely time to catch his train, and asked me to +apologise to you for going so abruptly. + +_Re-enter DR. DOZEY, R._ + +ALMA. Then I shan't see him. What a disappointment! + +DR. (_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY_) Life is made up of disappointments. As +we near its goal---- (_SIR HUMPHREY turns him round; he faces ALMA_) + +SIR H. Gone, after what he said to me this morning! + +LUCY. Oh, and he left some message! You were to forget what he had +said or something--he was in too great a hurry to explain himself. + +SIR H. I think I understand. (_to LUCY_) You have refused him? + +LUCY. I? + +MRS. D. Mr. Potter has proposed! + +NED. For Lucy? + +DR. (_approaching DICK_) I was remarking---- (_buttonholes DICK, who +gradually retreats up stage, followed step by step by DR. DOZEY, +preaching in dumb show_) + +SIR H. Not an hour ago he asked to be allowed to speak to you. Hasn't +he done so? + +LUCY. No, he said nothing. + +ALMA. (_aside to NED_) Now's your opportunity. Redeem your promise. + +SIR H. This is an insult--a gross insult. + +MRS. D. A mere painter! + +NED. (_crosses to LUCY_) If he _had_ spoken it would have been +useless. Miss Preston has accepted someone else. + +SIR H. Without my knowledge? + +NED. Yes. But it wasn't Lucy's fault. (_takes LUCY'S hand_) She would +have told you, but I wouldn't let her. + +SIR H. You! + +MRS. D. Oh, Dionysius! Miss Preston is engaged to Mr. Chetwynd. +(_brings DR. DOZEY down, to the great relief of DICK, who gasps for +air and mops his forehead at back_) + +SIR H. Not to you, Ned! Say, there is some mistake! You couldn't do so +wrong. Say, you are not engaged. + +NED. No, not engaged. + +SIR H. Thank heaven! + +NED. This is my wife. (_takes LUCY'S hand_) + +MRS. D. Oh! + +DR. Bless my soul! + +SIR H. (_incredulous_) Your wife! + +DICK. (_coming forward_) Sir, I congrat---- (_ALMA stops DICK and +takes him up; DR. and MRS. DOZEY turn deprecatingly_) + +SIR H. She, your wife? (_DR. DOZEY puts up glasses and surveys LUCY_) + +NED. Your daughter. + +SIR H. I disown her! I refuse to recognise this marriage. I disown you +both! You have brought shame upon a line that was untarnished. You--my +son--my only child--the bearer of an honoured name--the heir of a +proud history--and she--(_breaks down_) Oh, Ned! Why did you marry +her? (_sits L. of table_) + +NED. I married her (_turns to LUCY_) for love. (_puts arm round LUCY_) + +END OF ACT I. + + + +ACT II. + +SCENE.--NED CHETWYND'S. _Doors R. and L. French window opening on +garden, at back. TOM'S picture of the two knights hangs on wall, R. +Piano, desk, screen, sofa, photographs, &c., &c. The entrance marked, +L., should be low down stage. Fireplace, L. NED discovered writing at +desk, L. LUCY reading, R._ + +LUCY. Nearly done, Ned? + +NED. Good gracious, no. I've only just begun. + +LUCY. Isn't it time you dressed? The Dozeys will be here directly. I +told them we should dine early. + +NED. Bother the Dozeys! + +LUCY. I couldn't help asking them. Indeed, they asked themselves. +(_rises, crosses to C._) + +NED. Lucy, how can I write while you keep chattering? I particularly +want to finish what I'm doing. I want to send it to Alma by to-night's +post. + +LUCY. Alma! + +NED. What's the matter? + +LUCY. I wish you wouldn't call Mrs. Blake "Alma." I don't like it! + +NED. I don't think you like _her._ + +LUCY. I like her very well; but at the same time I think you see too +much of her. + +NED. What nonsense! We're in the same set; I can't help seeing a good +deal of her. + +LUCY. That's true enough--in some of her dresses. + +NED. Come, come. That's only on the stage. She has to dress according +to her part. She's not responsible for its clothing. + +LUCY. (_turning to NED_) The stage is an excuse for a great deal. + +NED. You mean, it's an excuse for very little. Where had I got to? +You've quite put me out. + +LUCY. What are you writing that's so very particular? + +NED. Only a letter. + +LUCY. A letter. (_crosses to NED_) + +NED. But it's most important. + +LUCY. (_aside_) A letter to Mrs. Blake. (_leans over his shoulder; he +covers the sheet with the blotting-paper_) + +NED. Lucy, I wish you wouldn't look over my shoulder. You don't know +how it fidgets me. I can't write a line. + +LUCY. I'd better go upstairs, then I shan't interrupt you. + +NED. Thank you; there's a dear. I'm sorry to be so disagreeable, but I +must finish this. + +LUCY. Dinner at seven. + +NED. All right. (_Exit LUCY, R._) Now I can go ahead like a steam +engine. (_writes_) "Fool that I was, I thought that it would last for +ever. Nothing can now remove the barrier between us. With my own hand +I have destroyed my happiness." That's warm enough, I think. I'm +making an infernal scoundrel of my namesake, but no matter. (_reads_) +"With my own hand"--I wonder if that's right. Could he have destroyed +his happiness with anybody else's hand? With my hand I have--no--he +couldn't have done it with his foot. + +_Re-enter LUCY, R., and down R.C._ + +LUCY. Ned, here's Mr. Potter. + +_Enter TOM, R._ + +NED. (_rises_) Hallo, Tom! (_shakes hands_) + +TOM. Hard at work? + +NED. Yes--spoiling more paper. I'm an annuity to the local stationer. + +TOM. Well, perhaps in your old age the local butterman will be an +annuity to you. + +NED. Gad, I shall want one at the pace I'm going. + +TOM. Sir Humphrey not come round yet? + +NED. No, we're still outcasts. + +LUCY. But he makes us an allowance. + +NED. Yes. He hasn't forgiven us, but he makes us an allowance. That's +the governor all over. + +TOM. And I suppose you spend a good deal more than he allows you? +(_Lucy sits, R._) + +NED. Yes, that's me all over. + +TOM. Well, I won't preach. + +NED. For mercy's sake! The doctor's coming to dinner; he'll preach +quite enough. + +LUCY. To do him justice, Ned, he doesn't talk at dinner. + +NED. To do the dinner justice, he does not. + +LUCY. Won't you stay, Mr. Potter? + +NED. Do. I shan't work any more to-day. + +TOM. Thank you. I don't dine as a rule, but I'll make an exception. + +NED. That's right. You can keep Lucy company while I go and dress. I +shan't be very long. (_Exit, L._) + +LUCY. See where we've hung your wedding present. (_indicating the +picture, R._) + +TOM. Yes--I was looking at my knights--thinking how like Sir Humphrey +is to them. Do you know, he's never seen me since the day I left his +house? I've tried to get at him a dozen times, but he won't give me a +chance of explaining myself. He sees one side of the shield and won't +look at the other. + +LUCY. I know he was very much annoyed with you. + +TOM. _You_ must have thought my conduct very strange. + +LUCY. I did. (_sits, R._) + +TOM. I owe you an explanation as well as Sir Humphrey. You remember my +telling you my married life was a failure? + +LUCY. Though you adored your wife. + +TOM. You mustn't think she didn't care for me, at first, but she was +lively, high-spirited, demonstrative. (_fetches chair from back and +sits beside LUCY_) And you know what sort of a fellow I am. Heavy as +one of Dozey's sermons. Women like pretty speeches, compliments. I +can't make pretty speeches, and I can't pay compliments; but there are +lots of men about who can. I wasn't jealous, for a man can't very well +be jealous of a lap dog--and still less of half-a-dozen lap dogs at a +time; but I lost my opinion of her (_rises_) and at last---- (_leans +on back of chair_) + +LUCY. You told her so. + +TOM. I didn't say very much; and what I said she didn't seem to heed. +When I had spoken I went out. Coming back presently I found a letter +lying on her desk telling me she preferred another man, and asking me +to leave her. I took her at her word. (_crosses to C._) + +LUCY. You left her without seeing her again? + +TOM. She asked me _not_ to see her, and where was the use? I had just +spoken to her, and this was the result. I came to England, and the +next I heard of her was the announcement of her death. (_crosses to +sofa_) + +LUCY. Abroad? + +TOM. In Melbourne. At first the sight of the old name brought back old +memories, and I forgave her. I got out the few remnants the past +leaves to men--the few pale letters and the faded photograph that +grows a little dimmer every day--when my eyes fell on that last note I +found upon her desk. I huddled up the scraps and went my way. I took +up art as a profession--changed my name in deference to my family, who +look on art as a mild form of felony--and time went on. I pulled the +old things out again, and found that I could look at them unmoved. I +even thought of marrying again, when, as I stood talking to you that +last day at Sir Humphrey's, there flashed on me a figure and a face so +like my wife's, it was like seeing _her._ And with the sight of her +came back the love. (_crosses to C._) + +LUCY. (_rises_) It wasn't dead, then? + +TOM. Does love ever die? Dark mists of prejudice may wrap it round, +and it may set in clouds, but every now and then the clouds are rolled +away and there shines out on us once more the image of the woman we +have loved. + +LUCY. (_crosses to TOM_) Was Mrs. Blake so like her? + +TOM. So like I dare not meet her. I could only go. I wasn't in the +mood for explanations, and when I was, Sir Humphrey wasn't in the mood +to listen to them. + +LUCY. And you've seen neither of them since? + +TOM. Yes. I saw Mrs. Blake upon the stage some weeks ago, and in her I +recognised, beyond all doubt, my wife. + +LUCY. Your wife--Mrs. Blake! (_crosses to TOM_) Oh, Mr. Potter, tell +Ned! do tell Ned! you'll do me such a service. + +TOM. How? I don't understand. + +LUCY. Don't ask me to explain, but tell him! If you will, you'll make +me happier than I've been for months. (_turns_) + +TOM. You are unhappy? + +LUCY. I didn't mean to say a word about it, but what you've told me +startled the truth out. I've been unhappy for weeks and weeks. I know +Ned's in difficulties, and his estrangement from Sir Humphrey weighs +upon his mind. I am the cause of it, and it's only natural his +feelings should have changed; but that makes it no easier to bear. I +am a drag upon him, a dishonour! I'm sure he loved me when he married +me, but he's so different now. Oh, Mr. Potter, it may be as you say, +love never dies; but love may be so tried, and torn, and strained, +that all the happiness goes out of it. (_sits on chair, C._) + +TOM. (_crosses to LUCY_) Surely, yours hasn't been so tried? + +LUCY. Not mine--but Ned's. I always seem to be in his way now. He's so +much occupied--so taken up with other things--he never has a word or +look for me. He's out so much; and when he's at home he's always +writing or else thinking--I am nobody--and Mrs. Blake--your wife--is +everybody; only he doesn't know she is your wife! If he did, it might +make a difference. (_rises_) + +TOM. This may be your fancy. I can quite understand, you're sensitive, +and perhaps misconstrue very simple things. You see, Ned's an author; +(_LUCY sits_) and authors make uninteresting husbands. (_crosses to +L._) I won't say they always neglect their wives, but their wives +always think so. (_crosses to LUCY_) Then again, Mrs. Blake--as my +wife calls herself---- + +LUCY. Alma, Ned calls her! + +TOM. Well--she's on the stage and might be of great use to him. It's +only natural he should make friends with her. + +LUCY. But he thinks she's a widow. If he knew she had a husband--and +above all, (_rises_) that you were her husband--I should feel more +comfortable. + +TOM. Tell him yourself, then. You have my permission. Have the thing +out and make an end of it; but for heaven's sake, don't brood! + +LUCY. How can I speak to him? + +TOM. Speak anyhow--the worse, the better! There are two sides to +everything. Why, like those foolish knights, commit yourself to one? +At least, have a look at both before you make your choice. + +_Re-enter NED, L._ + +NED. Quarter past six. The Dozeys not come yet? + +LUCY. I don't expect them before seven. + +NED. What a blessing! + +TOM. You dine at seven? Then, I've no time to lose. I have a dress +coat somewhere. I must look it up. + +NED. Can you get back in time? + +TOM. I'll take the short cut through the garden. + +NED. Don't be long, (_Exit TOM through window and off, R.; sits down +at table; picks up sheet of paper_) there's a good fellow. + +LUCY. Ned! Ned! (_pause_) Can't I speak to you a minute? + +NED. Can't you speak to me? (_crosses to LUCY, R._) What a question! +Am I the Grand Turk--not to be approached? + +LUCY. But I mean seriously. + +NED. What have _you_ to be serious about? Doesn't your new dress fit? + +LUCY. It isn't about dress. It's about---- + +_Enter SERVANT, R._ + +SERV. Mrs. Blake. (_LUCY turns and goes down, R._) + +_ALMA runs in, R. Exit SERVANT, R._ + +ALMA. (_running to NED and wringing both his hands_) Oh, Ned, you +dear. I'm so happy. I could kiss you! + +NED. Don't be shy. Lucy doesn't mind. + +ALMA. (_turns_) How are you, love? Excuse me for not seeing you. I'm +so excited. I've quite lost my head. I've such news for you. + +NED. Well? + +ALMA. Sir Humphrey's coming to see you! + +NED. My father! + +ALMA. I've brought him round at last. But hasn't it been hard work? +I've been manoeuvring for the last three months. I didn't know there +was a man alive I couldn't twist round my finger in three days. + +NED. He's coming here to-night? + +ALMA. So am I. I've arranged to bring him--that is, I've arranged he's +to bring _me._ Dick's new piece is a frost. I thought it would be, and +threw up my part. So I'm at liberty, and we're both coming for the +evening. + +NED. Lucy--(_LUCY goes up_)--you'd better order some more dinner. +There'll be the Dozeys--Potter---- + +ALMA. Mr. Potter coming! Oh, I'm so glad! + +LUCY. (_aside_) They'll meet! (_at back, R._) + +ALMA. I feel quite curious to see Mr. Potter. You know I just missed +him at Sir Humphrey's; and as a rule the people we miss in this world +are so much more interesting than the people we meet. + +NED. Then, there's my father and Alma--(_LUCY looks at NED_) Mrs. +Blake. + +LUCY. (_crosses to door, R._) That makes only seven. + +NED. But don't forget the doctor's one of them. + +LUCY. I'd better see the cook. (_Exit, R._) + +NED. How good it is of you to have arranged all this! You've taken a +load off my mind already. I couldn't bear being on bad terms with the +governor. + +ALMA. I'm as pleased as you are. And that's not all. I've more good +news for you. Sparkle's new piece is such a failure, Dick'll have to +change the bill immediately; and I shouldn't wonder if I place your +play. + +NED. The one I'm doing now? + +ALMA. Isn't it done? + +NED. (_crosses to table, returns with letter_) Another week will +finish it. I'm re-writing that compromising letter. You said the first +one wasn't strong enough. + +ALMA. Not half. When you compromise your hero, compromise him. The +public like imperial measure. Let 'em have it. + +NED. Well, I think this is warm enough. (_give sheet to ALMA_) + +ALMA. (_reads_) "Willow Bank, Surbiton." + +NED. No, no. (_takes the sheet of paper_) + +ALMA. "Willow Bank, Surbiton." It says so. + +NED. That's this house. I jotted my ideas down on a sheet of our +notepaper to submit to you before I altered the manuscript. This is +the letter I propose. "My own dearest Alma"---- + +ALMA. Stop. Is there an Alma in this play? + +NED. The heroine. I told you, I call all my heroines "Alma." + +ALMA. Te, te, te. Go on. + +NED. "At last I have a moment to myself to scribble a hasty answer to +your note. Of course I will be there." + +ALMA. Where's that? + +NED. The place appointed. It's an assignation. + +ALMA. Oh! Have they got to assignations? + +NED. Yes. I'm giving 'em imperial measure this time. + +ALMA. Don't forget the Chamberlain. + +NED. "I will make some excuse to get away. Oh, why have I to make +excuses?"---- + +_Re-enter SERVANT, R._ + +SERV. Mr. Dodson Dick. + +_Enter DICK, R. Exit SERVANT, R. NED puts the letter back._ + +NED. (_crosses to DICK_) This is an unexpected honour. (_ALMA crosses +to L._) + +DICK. (_puts hat on piano_) Just found your MS. Thought I would bring +it you myself--avoid mistakes. Capital comedy--won't do at all. +(_gives NED MS._) + +NED. Why, you've not opened it! + +DICK. No need to open it--won't do at all. + +ALMA. Good evening, Mr. Dick. + +DICK. (_crosses to ALMA_) Hallo! You here? Seen the notices? (_NED +crosses R._) + +ALMA. Of the new piece? + +NED. The one you thought so highly of? + +DICK. Did I think highly of it? + +ALMA. Didn't you say the booking after the first night would be a +caution? + +DICK. So it is. Two stalls. + +NED. I heard it wasn't a success. + +DICK. (_producing a sheaf of newspaper cuttings_) _Morning News:_ "It +is not often that we have to chronicle so signal a fiasco." _Daily +Post:_ "Seldom of late years has a first night audience been so +emphatic in its condemnation." _Evening Mail:_ "The play is absolutely +destitute of merit." _Sunday Slogger:_ "A striking instance of the +ineptitude, incompetence, and imbecility of our native playwrights." +What do you think of that? + +NED. I'm very sorry for poor Sparkle's sake. (_ALMA crosses to sofa_) + +DICK. Hang Sparkle! I'm sorry for my own sake. Very annoying. I +particularly wanted this to be a go. + +ALMA. Because I wasn't in it. (_leaning on back of sofa_) + +DICK. Miss Blake has a notion we can't do without her. + +NED. It appears you can't. + +DICK. All the more reason she should think we can. _I_ don't know what +the public see in her. Miss Blake's always Miss Blake. + +ALMA. That's what they like, my dear. + +DICK. I don't care what the part is! + +ALMA. Nor do they. + +DICK. Well, if they want you they shall have you. Now, look here. (_to +NED_) I'll make you a proposition. If you'll let Sparkle look over +your comedy, write up Blake's part, re-cast the plot, and smarten up +the dialogue, I'll bring the piece out under Sparkle's name, pay him +the fees, and--and your fortune's made. (_ALMA comes down, C._) + +NED. Let Sparkle hack about my piece? Sparkle, who's just made this +fiasco? + +DICK. Sparkle has such a name. + +ALMA. Yes--for fiascos. + +DICK. Never mind what it's for--he has a name. + +NED. No, Mr. Dick, no! + +DICK. You refuse? + +NED. Decidedly. (_goes up to L.C., sits at table_) + +DICK. (_taking stage, R._) And yet they say we managers don't give +young men a chance. + +ALMA. (_crosses to C._) Mr. Dick, Mr. Chetwynd has another comedy. + +DICK. Won't do at all! + +ALMA. But I say it _will_ do. I've read it. + +DICK. I _haven't_ read it, and I say it _won't._ Sparkle's the man for +comedies. I'll go to Sparkle. He'll write me a bran new one in a week, +and it won't want rehearsing, because it'll be the old stuff all over +again. + +ALMA. If he does I don't play in it. + +DICK. Oh, yes, you do. + +ALMA. I say I don't. + +DICK. (_crosses to ALMA_) No play no pay. We've an agreement. + +ALMA. (_crosses to DICK_) We'll have a _dis_agreement. Mark my words, +I play in Mr. Chetwynd's piece or I don't play at all. + +DICK. What's it about? + +ALMA. Never mind what it's about. You'd better leave the whole thing +in my hands. You know I shall have my own way in the end; so you may +just as well let me have it at the beginning. + +DICK. Settle it how you like. I must be off. (_goes up, R._) + +ALMA. So must I, Ned. It's time for me to bring Sir Humphrey. +(_crosses to L. DICK takes hat, puts it on_) + +NED. (_to DICK_) Won't you take the manuscript? + +DICK. What for? + +NED. To read. + +DICK. I don't read plays, sir; I produce 'em. + +NED. But if you did read them---- + +DICK. Then I shouldn't produce 'em. + +ALMA. I've read it, Mr. Dick, and it'll do for me. + +DICK. Do for me, too, I expect. All you've read is your part. + +ALMA. My part's the play. + +DICK. I thought as much. Good evening. (_Exit, R._) + +ALMA. Ned, it might please Sir Humphrey if you met him. Won't you come +with me? (_going up, C._) + +_Re-enter LUCY, R._ + +NED. Go with you? With pleasure. + +LUCY. Going out, Ned? + +ALMA. Only to meet Sir Humphrey. + +NED. I shan't be twenty minutes. You don't mind? + +LUCY. Oh, no. + +NED. Come along, Alma! (_Exit through window; off, R._) + +ALMA. See you again presently. (_Exit through window; off, R._) + +LUCY. (_following them; then back to R.C._) See you again! When shall +I see the last of you? "Mrs. Blake," "Alma" morning, noon, and night. +(_sits on chair, R._) Oh, what a wicked girl I am! how selfish! how +ill-natured! No wonder Ned is tired of me. No wonder he likes other +company. It's not his fault--it's mine. I'll write and tell him so. +(_rises; crosses to table, L., sits_) I'll sit down in his +chair--steal some of his paper--and write with his pen! What's +this--on the blotting pad? "Alma--dearest Alma." This is what he was +writing--that was so important. "Dearest Alma!" That's why he wouldn't +let me look at it. Here is the letter--a half written letter. "Willow +Bank, Surbiton. My own dearest Alma." (_starts up_) I won't read it. +(_retreating_) I've no right. I daren't. (_pause_) I have a right! I +will! (_darts forward and reads resolutely; sits_) "My own dearest +Alma,--At last I have a moment to myself, to scribble a hasty answer +to your note. Of course I will be there. I will make some excuse to +get away. Oh, why have I to make excuses? Why have I a wife? She is a +mere child, for whom I had a passing fancy. Fool that I was, I thought +that it would last for ever. Nothing can now remove the barrier +between us. With my own hand I have destroyed my happiness." (_drops +the sheet; turns; presses her hands against her temples; then tears +off her wedding ring and flings it from her_) I will remove the +barrier between them. I will leave his house! (_clasping her hands_) +Oh, Ned, my husband--he's not mine, he's hers! I have no husband! Oh, +Ned, Ned! come back to me! don't leave me desolate! (_staggers, and is +about to fall. Re-enter TOM, dressed, through window, just in time to +catch her in his arms_) + +TOM. (_holding her_) Mrs. Chetwynd! Lucy! + +_Re-enter SERVANT, R._ + +SERV. Dr. and Mrs. Dozey. (_seeing LUCY, runs to her assistance_) + +_Enter DR. and MRS. DOZEY, R._ + +TOM. You'd better take Mrs. Chetwynd to her room. She's ill. (_SERVANT +leads LUCY out, L., TOM follows to door, L._) + +DR. _and_ MRS. D. (_looking at one another_) Hem! + +TOM. The heat, I daresay. + +BOTH. Hem! + +TOM. It's lucky I was there or she'd have fallen. I'd better find Ned +and tell him. + +BOTH. Hem! + +TOM. Have you both colds? + +DR. Have you a cold, Diana? + +MRS. D. No. + +DR. Nor I. + +BOTH. Hem! + +TOM. Only two clerical sore throats? Beg pardon. (_Exit through +window; off, L._) + +_DR. and MRS. DOZEY stand looking at one another._ + +DR. I fear our advent was inopportune. + +MRS. D. Then you observed---- + +DR. Nothing. I have mislaid my glasses. + +MRS. D. What nonsense, Dionysius! there they are! + +DR. There are epochs in existence when it is the duty of a charitable +person to have mislaid his glasses. + +MRS. D. Charity is a very excellent thing in its way. At the same time +one can't always shut one's eyes. I'm sure I close mine as often as +anybody; but I can't help observing what goes on. + +DR. Did not Sir Humphrey lead us to infer that Mr. Potter once +proposed for Mrs. Chetwynd? + +MRS. D. But had backed out of it. + +DR. The situation is extremely painful. + +MRS. D. When one's asked out to dinner and one finds one's hostess +reclining in the arms of one of the guests---- + +DR. The incident is calculated to impair the appetite and cast a gloom +around the prandial board. + +MRS. D. Ill, forsooth! and the heat! But what can be expected of a +scene-shifter? + +DR. Painter, my dear, scene painter. + +MRS. D. Painter. It's all the same. + +DR. And of the lady's parentage! + +MRS. D. Ah, me! (_sits on sofa and dozes off_) + +DR. (_crosses to MRS. DOZEY_) Herein, Diana, is much food for thought. +Here is a sermon he who runs may read. Here is a subject which +naturally resolves itself into six sections. Firstly---- (_MRS. DOZEY +snores_) Asleep again! + +ALMA. (_outside_) Follow your leader. I'll show you the way. + +DR. Mrs. Blake's voice. On second thoughts I will not awaken Diana. +(_crosses, R._) + +_Re-enter ALMA through window from R._ + +ALMA. Doctor! how are you! I've not seen you for a century. (_shakes +hands_) + +DR. It were more accurate to say a month. + +ALMA. A month, a month, a month! + +DR. Even in trifles it is well to be exact. + +ALMA. I asked you how you were? + +DR. Truly, I ought not to repine. The portal sometimes creaketh, but +it hangs--it hangs. + +ALMA. (_aside_) It ought to! + +_Re-enter NED through window, with SIR HUMPHREY on his arm, down C._ + +DR. Bless my soul--if I may be permitted so strong an expression---- + +ALMA. You may--you may. It's quite a relief to hear a little bad +language. + +DR. Is that you, Sir Humphrey? + +SIR H. Yes, doctor. I've made friends with Ned again. I said I +wouldn't, but there are some words it's better to break than to keep. +A son may afford to quarrel with his father, but a father cannot +afford to quarrel with his son, especially when he's the only one. + +NED. I was to blame. + +SIR H. We won't go into that. Perhaps there were faults on both sides. +I was a selfish, obstinate old man, who thought of nothing but his own +plans and his own ambitions. (_taking ALMA'S hand_) It was you, Mrs. +Blake, who taught me that my son, whatever he may do, is still my son, +and that my daughter is my daughter, be she who she may. Where is your +wife, Ned? + +DR. Hem! Mrs. Chetwynd is indisposed. + +NED. Lucy ill! What's the matter? + +DR. I only know that she is in her room. + +NED. I'll go and tell her you are here, father. (_crosses to L._) +That'll bring her down, I warrant. (_Exit, L._) + +ALMA. You'll get on ever so much better by yourselves. I'll take the +doctor for a little walk. Come along, doctor. You can talk; I'll +listen. I make a splendid congregation when I choose. + +DR. I should be charmed, but Mrs. Dozey---- + +ALMA. Well, you see her condition! + +SIR H. I didn't see Mrs. Dozey. (_approaching her_) + +DR. (_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY quickly_) Not so loud! Let sleeping +dogs--hem! Wake not the slumberer. + +_ALMA putting her arm through DR. DOZEY'S, they both go off, C.R._ + +SIR H. (_following_) What sprightliness! What commonsense! (_comes +down, R._) What kindliness! My life has been a different thing since I +have known her. (_sits, R., thoughtfully_) One of the Duchesses of St. +Albans was an actress. One of the Countesses of Derby was an actress. +There are precedents--excellent precedents. Lady Chetwynd--Lady +Chetwynd. + +MRS. D. (_wakes suddenly_) It's a most extraordinary thing. I can't +get a wink of sleep! other people have no difficulty--why have I? How +is it, Dionysius? + +SIR H. Your husband isn't here. + +MRS. D. Sir Humphrey! (_rises_) + +SIR H. You're surprised to see me? + +MRS. D. Where's Dionysius? (_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY_) + +SIR H. Don't be so concerned. He's only gone for a walk with Mrs. +Blake. + +MRS. D. With that play-actress? + +SIR H. My dear Mrs. Dozey, there is nothing discreditable in the +profession of the stage. + +MRS. D. That woman's setting her cap at Dionysius! + +SIR H. I hadn't noticed that she wore a cap. + +MRS. D. It'd be more becoming if she did, widow as she is. But there! +I have my doubts about her being a widow at all. + +SIR H. (_rising_) Mrs. Dozey! + +MRS. D. A bright face is like charity, it covers a multitude of sins. + +SIR H. And a sour face is sometimes like the sins, it has no charity +to cover it. + +MRS. D. I quite agree with you. (_up stage, aside_) What does he mean +by that? (_Exit through window, off R._) + +SIR H. How prejudiced people are! What is birth after all? An +accident--the merest accident! And isn't my birth good enough for both +of us? My life is very lonely--very lonely. + +_Re-enter ALMA through window, from R._ + +ALMA. Oh! such a jolly row! I've left them at it--hammer and +tongs--tongues especially. + +SIR H. Mrs. Dozey's of a jealous disposition. A worthy woman but---- + +ALMA. Rather inclined to go to sleep. + +SIR H. Well, after five-and-twenty years of Dozey---- + +ALMA. I don't wonder at it. + +SIR H. All women can't have Mrs. Blake's vivacity. + +ALMA. Sir Humphrey! no more compliments to-day. You said just now I +was the means of reconciling you to Ned--of teaching you that your son +was always your son--that forgiveness was better than resentment. You +can't pay me a greater compliment than that. It was more than I +deserved. (_takes chair; both sit_) + +SIR H. No compliment can be too great to pay to _you_. + +ALMA. Take care, Sir Humphrey! You know what they say is the greatest +a man can offer a woman! + +SIR H. The one I ask to be allowed to offer now. I am in earnest, Mrs. +Blake. I haven't known you long; but there are women whom men learn to +love more quickly than to recognise the rest. I have lived sixteen +years of lonely life, because I have never met the woman worthy to +succeed the mother of my son. It is no slight to her to offer you her +place. I ask you to accept it without shame, because I feel that I +could set you side by side without indignity to either. I could not +love you more, nor could I love you less, than she who was the light +and gladness of my life. (_takes ALMA'S hand_) + +ALMA. Please say no more! + +SIR H. Haven't I said enough? (_lets hand go_) + +ALMA. Too much, Sir Humphrey. I mean more than I have any right to +hear. (_rises, crosses to C._) I cannot marry you. + +SIR H. (_half to himself_) I am refused! (_as if impossible to believe +it_) + +ALMA. The honour you have done me is too great to trifle with. I +didn't care about the truth being known; but you have earned the right +to know it. I have a husband! (_long pause_) + +SIR H. (_with difficulty_) Living? + +ALMA. I have no reason to suppose he's dead. (_crosses to SIR +HUMPHREY_) Believe me when I say I should never have represented +myself to be a widow--I should never have entered your house--if I had +dreamt it would lead to this. You do believe me? (_offers hand_) + +SIR H. (_shakes hands_) Yes. + +ALMA. It was from no light motive I professed to be what I am not. It +was because I wished to strip the memory of my husband from my heart +as he has stripped his presence from my life. + +SIR H. He left you? + +ALMA. Do you care to know? (_sits R._) If you can listen to me I +should like to tell you. I was a giddy girl when I was young--one who +thought nothing of the past and little of the future. My husband was a +serious sort of man--absorbed in his pursuit. I thought I was +neglected, and--well, it's a humiliating thing to say, but I must say +it--the attention I didn't get from him I accepted from others. I +didn't doubt he loved me, but he didn't show it; and I determined that +he should. At last I forced him to speak. He wasn't angry--he used no +hard words--but he--he frightened me. I pretended not to care; but I +was cured. + +SIR H. (_who has grown more and more interested_) Go on. + +ALMA. With one man I had gone too far to withdraw easily. I was +obliged to write to him. It was rather a long letter. When I had +written the first sheet I put it in my desk and went on with the next. +In the middle of it I was called away on some household matter, and +when I returned that second sheet was gone. + +SIR H. Your husband---- + +ALMA. Had gone also. + +SIR H. Strange! Very strange! Can you remember what you wrote on it? + +ALMA. Nothing he was entitled to resent. But from that day to this I +haven't heard of him. I left Melbourne. + +SIR H. Melbourne? + +ALMA. I was determined to start life afresh and put an end to old +associations. I even went so far as to announce my death. + +SIR H. You advertised your death? + +ALMA. It was a wicked thing to do, but I did it. I took the name of +Blake, and went on the stage. + +SIR H. This is much more than strange. If you could find your +husband---- + +ALMA. I've no wish to find him! + +SIR H. But if it turned out there was some mistake--that he +misunderstood you? + +ALMA. There can be no mistake. No! I have done with him for ever. I +could never forgive him. + +SIR H. Then you don't love him? + +ALMA. Yes, I do. That's why. (_rises_) And now you know my history, +forgive _me_ and let me go. + +SIR H. (_rises_) You mustn't go, Mrs. Blake. I can, perhaps, be of +service to you. As for forgiveness, I have nothing to forgive. It +isn't women's fault men fall in love with them; and men must bear +their fate. + +_Re-enter NED, L._ + +NED. (_crosses to ALMA_) I can't make out what's the matter with Lucy, +but she won't come down. She's upset about something. + +ALMA. Shall I go up to her? (_crosses to L._) + +NED. I wish you would. You'll find out what's the matter, I'll be +bound. Where's Dozey? + +ALMA. (_at door, L._) Gone for a stroll, that's all. + +NED. I hope he won't be long. It's nearly seven now. + +ALMA. Don't alarm yourself. A clergyman is never late for dinner. +(_Exit, L. SIR HUMPHREY sits R. NED crosses to L._) + +MRS. D. (_outside_) It's no use talking, Dionysius! + +_Enter DR. and MRS. DOZEY, through window._ + +NED. Here they come. + +MRS. D. I won't have it. This is the second time I've had to speak +about it. + +DR. Listen to reason! + +MRS. D. I won't listen to reason. I won't listen to anything. It's +obvious to everybody. (_to SIR HUMPHREY_) Even Sir Humphrey must have +observed it. + +SIR H. Observed what, Mrs. Dozey? + +MRS. D. Why, Mrs. Blake's attentions to the Doctor! + +_DOCTOR winks solemnly at SIR HUMPHREY, who smiles._ + +SIR H. I'd not noticed them. + +MRS. D. Ah! she's so sly about it. Ah, well, well! I suppose a +ballet-dancer knows no better. + +NED. Mrs. Blake doesn't dance! (_crosses, sits at desk_) + +DR. There is a difference between an actress and a _coryphée._ + +MRS. D. (_sharply_) What _do you_ know of _coryphées?_ + +DR. (_starts_) I saw one once, my dear. + +MRS. D. I thought you were never inside a theatre? + +DR. It was not at a theatre; it was at a hall. + +NED. What were you doing there? + +MRS. D. Explain yourself. + +DR. As it is the duty of the physician to acquaint himself with the +diseases of the flesh, so it is the duty of the pastor to acquaint +himself with the afflictions of the spirit. (_goes, L._) + +_Re-enter ALMA, L._ + +ALMA. (_crosses; aside to NED_) Lucy won't see me, and she's not +coming down. + +NED. Not coming down? + +ALMA. Something's the matter with your wife--ah! (_catching sight of +the ring sets her foot on it_) + +NED. (_rises_) What is it? + +ALMA. Get rid of these people. (_NED crosses to DOCTOR, L._) + +MRS. D. Sir Humphrey, this explains something that's puzzled me for +years. + +SIR H. What's that, Mrs. Dozey? + +MRS. D. Why Dionysius always brings a black tie with him when he comes +to London. (_SIR HUMPHREY rises, goes up R.C. with MRS. DOZEY._) + +DR. (_to NED_) Sherry and bitters? Excellent idea. + +NED. Come with me, doctor. Father, take Mrs. Dozey. + +DR. Bitters impart a zest to appetite and give a tone to the digestive +organs. + +_Exeunt SIR HUMPHREY, MRS. DOZEY, DR. DOZEY, and NED, R. Check lights +and limes._ + +ALMA. What does this mean? (_picks up the ring_) Her wedding ring. It +isn't as bright as when I saw it first; but what of that? Six months +of marriage take the shine out of a good many wedding-rings. What was +it doing there? It couldn't have dropped off by accident. No--it's too +small for that--it must have been tight. Perhaps it was too tight. +That's it! (_crosses to R.C._) That's it, you may depend. Now, let me +think. Under what circumstances does a woman take to throwing rings +about? In Sparkle's comedies they do it in a temper. Clever man--but +human nature's scarcely Sparkle's forte. Stop! I once threw away my +wedding-ring. What for? If I could think--I know! I know! It was the +only time in my life I was jealous of Tom! That's what's the matter! +(_crosses to C._) Mrs. Chetwynd's jealous. Now what has Ned been +doing? Whom's she jealous of? I must find out. She had it on just +now--when Ned went out with me. She must have found out something +since. Now, what did _I_ do when my husband was out? I looked in all +his pockets and I rummaged through all his papers. (_looks round_) +There are no pockets here, but there are any number of papers. (_goes +to desk_) Let me have a look. I'll find it in three tries. (_pouncing +on the letter, sits_) "My own dearest Alma." Found at one! The letter +in the play! of course! of course! it's me she's jealous of! It must +be me. (_rises, takes letter and reads_) "At last I have a moment to +myself, to scribble a hasty answer to your note." (_reads on with her +back turned to door, L. Re-enter LUCY, L., in out-door costume, very +cautiously creeps in, sees ALMA, and starts violently, then stands +motionless. The stage has by this time grown rather dim, as if it were +getting dusk. Check lights, check to half down. Lights gradually fade +away and go out_) "Why have I a wife? She is a mere child for whom I +had a passing fancy." + +LUCY. (_under her breath_) She's reading the letter! + +ALMA. "Nothing can now remove the barrier between us. With my own hand +I have destroyed my happiness." Oh, no, you haven't, Ned! I'll make +you happy yet. Now I understand the state of affairs I know what to +do. (_puts letter on table_) The barrier must be broken +down--smashed--blown to atoms! Oh, dear, I feel so happy! (_turns; +slips behind a screen_) Ned! dear old Ned! Where are you? (_runs out, +R._) + +LUCY. (_emerging_) Yes, they shall both be happy. (_surveying the +room_) Good-bye, everything. (_crosses to piano_) Piano that he gave +me. Old music that he used to like. I shall never dare to sing you any +more. (_crosses to cabinet, addressing photograph of SIR HUMPHREY_) +Good-bye, my only father, who would never own me. I'm not your +daughter now. (_crosses to cabinet, L., brings photograph of NED to +table, L._) Good-bye, Ned, my husband! You won't see me any more. +Don't look at me in that way. If you don't love me, say good-bye to +me. (_sits at table. Re-enter SERVANT, R., with lamp, which she puts +on cabinet, R.; the noise attracts LUCY'S attention; softly_) Wilson? + +SERV. (_starts slightly_) You here, m'm? + +LUCY. (_rises_) I'm going out. + +SERV. Going out, Mrs. Chetwynd? + +LUCY. Don't say anything; but give this note to Mr. Chetwynd. (_gives +note_) Good-bye, Wilson. + +SERV. Good-bye? + +LUCY. I mean good night. (_Exit through window off, L. SERVANT closes +window, draws curtains, exit, L._) + +_Re-enter ALMA and NED, R._ + +ALMA. Yes, it's as plain as the nose on my face. It's me she's jealous +of. + +NED. Jealous of you? Ridiculous! + +ALMA. I don't see anything ridiculous about it. + +NED. The idea of anybody being jealous of you! + +ALMA. You ask Wilson and you'll find I'm right. (_NED rings bell_) + +_Re-enter SIR HUMPHREY; DR. and MRS. DOZEY, R._ + +SIR H. You always are right, Mrs. Blake. What should we do without +you? + +_Re-enter SERVANT, L., with letter._ + +NED. Wilson, where's Mrs. Chetwynd? + +SERV. She's gone out, sir. + +ALL. Out? + +DR. At this hour? + +MRS. D. I thought she wasn't well? + +SERV. She left a note for you, sir. (_gives note to NED. Exit, L. NED +opens note, holds it out to ALMA_) + +SIR H. What does she say? + +ALMA. Only two words--"Good-bye." + +_Re-enter TOM, C., from L., unobserved._ + +MRS. D. It's an elopement! + +DR. Our worst fears are realised. + +NED. (_springing up_) What do you mean? + +DR. I will make no assertion--hazard no conjecture. I will ask, +simply, where is Mr. Potter? + +TOM. Here! (_all turn_) + +ALMA. (_recognising him_) Tom! + +MRS. D. You know Mr. Potter? + +TOM. Alma! + +SIR H. (_as if to himself_) She _is_ his wife! (_sits, R._) + +END OF ACT II. + + + +ACT III. + +SCENE.--_ALMA BLAKE'S apartments. An octagonal room, being a sort of +boudoir, furnished and draped in the extreme of artistic luxury. Doors +R. and L. A number of bouquets about the room. Photographs, +knick-knacks everywhere. Window C. TOM'S picture of the knights on the +wall, R._ + +_Enter SUSAN, L.C. with a bouquet._ + +SUSAN. Another of 'em! Who's this from, I wonder? (_reads card +attached_) From Sir George Greenfield. We shall have enough to stock +Covent Garden directly. (_Enter ALMA, R.C., in a morning wrapper, with +her hair loosely arranged_) Another bouquet! (_gives it to ALMA; goes +up back_) + +ALMA. (_looks at card carelessly_) Oh! (_tosses the bouquet amongst +the rest_) No letter from the theatre? + +SUSAN. No, miss. + +ALMA. It's very strange. + +SUSAN. Did you expect one? + +ALMA. Yes, from Mr. Dick. Before I play in the new piece---- + +SUSAN. In Mr. Chetwynd's piece? + +ALMA. I must have better terms. I asked five pounds a week advance, +and Dick wouldn't hear of it; so last night I gave him notice. + +SUSAN. You're going to leave? + +ALMA. Not I! (_crosses to sofa_) But that's the only way to deal with +Dick. I ought to have had a letter by this time giving me my terms. + +SUSAN. Perhaps Mr. Dick 'll call. + +ALMA. Perhaps. I don't care. (_drops on sofa_) Oh, dear! (_leans her +head on her hands; slight pause; SUSAN arranges the bouquet_) How did +I look last night? + +SUSAN. (_coming down to back of table_) Your very best. + +ALMA. How did I play? + +SUSAN. Better than ever, I think. (_goes up and arranges bouquet; +another pause_) + +ALMA. Susan, have you ever been in love? + +SUSAN. La, miss, a dozen times! Haven't you? + +ALMA. Only once. + +SUSAN. Well, I _am_ surprised. + +ALMA. And that was with my husband. + +SUSAN. Gracious me! (_comes down to back of table_) + +ALMA. He was in front last night. + +SUSAN. Your husband, miss! I didn't know you had a husband. + +ALMA. We all have husbands--on the stage. + +SUSAN. You keep 'em very quiet. + +ALMA. Best thing we can do, with most of 'em! My husband painted that. +(_pointing to picture, R._) + +SUSAN. The picture Mr. Chetwynd gave you? + +ALMA. Yes. + +SUSAN. Don't you and your husband speak, miss? + +ALMA. I hadn't seen him for six years, until three months ago; when we +met accidentally. + +SUSAN. And didn't he speak _then?_ + +ALMA. Not twenty words. I might have been a stranger. (_half to +herself_) When those we would forgive won't let us forgive them, what +are we to do? + +SUSAN. Whatever we like; _I_ should! Would you be friends with him? + +ALMA. I thought not. I thought I had forgotten him. But when I saw him +standing by my side, and heard his voice, oh, you don't know how the +old time came back to me, and how I longed for the old home. (_a ring +below_) + +SUSAN. There's the bell, miss. (_Exit, L.C._) + +ALMA. And is it never to be mine again? Is he to go out of my life +forever? Or if he meets me, is it to be as a stranger? Is he to sit +near me, and never speak to me? Am I, who once was everything to him, +to be nothing? (_rises; crosses to table_) No, oh, no! He is a man, +and he can bear it; I'm only a woman, and I can't. My pride has all +gone--gone, I don't know where! Six years of loneliness have used it +up. I don't care who was right--I don't care who was wrong--I want him +back again. (_sits L. of table_) + +_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C., with NED._ + +NED. Good morning. (_Exit SUSAN, L.C._) + +ALMA. (_rising_) Ned! What brings you here so early? + +NED. What's this I hear from Dick? He says you've given him notice. + +ALMA. So I have. + +NED. Then who's to play your part? + +ALMA. Oh, there are lots of women. + +NED. Only one Alma Blake. + +ALMA. I'm very sorry, for your sake. + +NED. If, now my piece is really coming out, after all these +postponements, you refuse to play in it, you can't be sorry for me, +Miss Blake. + +ALMA. Miss Blake? + +NED. Yes, Miss Blake. It was Miss Blake that spoke--it's Miss Blake +who's thrown up her part--but it's Alma who's going to play. + +ALMA. Don't make too sure of that. (_crosses R._) + +NED. You don't consider my feelings in the least. Do you suppose it's +all the same to me who speaks my lines? + +ALMA. You'll get them better spoken, I daresay. + +NED. Very well--someone else _shall_ speak them. (_crosses to C._) + +ALMA. No, they shan't. + +NED. You'll play the part, after all! (_puts hat and stick down on +chair, L. of table_) + +ALMA. I meant to play it all the time, you goose! I've no idea of +leaving Dick. I only want five pounds a week more salary. + +NED. That's a weight off my mind. (_crosses to sofa; sits_) You can't +believe how sensitive I am about this play. It is the only link +between me and my wife. I sometimes think that if she saw it it might +bring her back to me. That is the reason I'm so anxious about it. + +ALMA. Of course, she'd recognise the letter. + +NED. What can have become of her? + +ALMA. Nothing been heard yet? + +NED. Not since she was traced to Leeds; there the clue was lost. + +ALMA. Did she know anybody there? + +NED. Not that I know of. What is she doing? What can she be living on? +Alma, it drives me nearly mad sometimes. (_rises; gets back, L._) + +_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C., with DICK._ + +SUSAN. Here's Mr. Dick, miss. (_Exit, L.C._) + +ALMA. Oh, you've come at last! + +DICK. Did you expect me? (_puts hat on sofa_) + +ALMA. To be sure I did! Brought the engagement with you? + +DICK. What engagement? + +ALMA. Five pounds a week more salary. + +DICK. Five fiddlesticks! + +ALMA. What have you come for, then? + +DICK. Two minutes' conversation. + +ALMA. You shall have ten. Sit down. + +DICK. Don't want ten. Two's enough. (_produces a letter_) Horrible +hand you write. It took me half-an-hour to make it out. + +ALMA. I'm sure it's plain enough. + +DICK. Well, it's not pretty. + +ALMA. You don't waste time in compliments. + +DICK. No time to waste. You've given me notice. + +ALMA. Yes, a fortnight's notice. + +DICK. Oh, it's quite regular. + +ALMA. Well? + +DICK. I accept it. + +ALMA.} + What? +NED.} + +DICK. (_turns up stage_) I'm obliged to you for giving me the chance. + +ALMA. You'll let me leave? + +DICK. The sooner, the better. + +ALMA. What are you going to do? + +DICK. That's _my_ business. + +ALMA. Whom are you going to get? + +DICK. Pooh! There are lots of actresses. + +NED. But you won't get another Alma Blake. + +DICK. Gad, I hope not. + +ALMA. Mr. Dick, have you come here to insult me? + +DICK. No time to insult people. + +ALMA. Say what you've come for, then. + +DICK. Your part in the new piece. + +ALMA. For someone else to study! + +DICK. Look alive! + +ALMA. If I refuse? + +DICK. You can't. You've given me notice. + +ALMA. If I withdraw my notice? + +DICK. Too late. Hand over the part. + +ALMA. I shan't hand it over! + +DICK. Won't you? (_puts hat on_) Good morning. (_goes up to door, +L.C._) + +ALMA. Where are you going? (_following DICK up_) + +DICK. Police-court. + +ALMA. What for? + +DICK. Summons--unlawfully detaining property. (_pause--they confront +each other_) + +ALMA. I'll get the part. (_Exit, R.C._) + +DICK. (_coming down, C._) I thought she would. I've scored this time. + +NED. Have you considered what you're doing, Dick? + +DICK. (_winks_) Do you suppose I should talk in that way if I hadn't +found another woman? Catch a weazel! + +NED. Of course, I didn't know that. + +DICK. Blake did; saw it at a glance. That was what knocked her over. +Clever woman! She'll be a loss. (_hat on sofa_) + +NED. Irreparable. + +DICK. Nothing's irreparable in the female line. (_crosses to R._) + +NED. Who is the other lady? + +DICK. Miss Ruth Carlton. + +NED. Never heard of her. + +DICK. Comes from the country. + +NED. Not an amateur! + +DICK. Jackson, of Huddersfield, tells me she's a wonder--a perfect +genius for domestic drama. + +NED. How is it he didn't keep her in Huddersfield? (_goes up, L._) + +DICK. She _would_ come up to town. "Private affairs." We all know what +that means. Got a good-for-nothing husband somewhere, and wants to +find him. + +NED. Is she in town now? + +DICK. She's taken lodgings in this very house. + +NED. That creature on the ground-floor? + +DICK. Ground-floor? No! Where are the geniuses always? In the attic. +(_points up; crosses to L._) + +NED. Strange! (_crosses at back to R._) + +DICK. What's strange? (_sits on sofa_) + +NED. That she has chosen this house of all others. + +DICK. It's a theatrical place. I recommended it to Blake--Jackson +recommended it to Carlton. What is there strange about that? + +NED. Nothing, when it's explained; but it did seem a curious +coincidence. + +DICK. Call that a coincidence? You should have seen my last comedy. +Sparkle's the man for coincidences. + +NED. Have you been up to see her? + +DICK. Just come down. Engagement signed this morning. Splendid terms! + +NED. For Miss Carlton? + +DICK. For Carlton? No--for me. + +NED. What's she like? + +DICK. Very pretty girl--rather washed out, but she'll be all right at +night. Fancy I've seen her face before somewhere; but then, I see so +many faces--soon forget 'em. Good thing, too; great blessing to forget +some faces. (_rises; takes hat_) Well, I can't wait all day. Tell +Blake I couldn't stop. You bring the part on to the theatre. (_going +off, L.C.; stops; puts on hat_) + +NED. All right. + +DICK. On second thoughts--(_coming down; chuckles_)--tell her to send +it to the girl upstairs. That'll take it out of her. Ha, ha, ha, ha! +She thought she'd get a rise out of _me;_ but I've taken a rise out of +_her._ (_Exit, L.C._) + +NED. (_sits R. of table_) Another disappointment. I write a part for +Alma to create, and it's to be murdered by an amateur! What does it +matter? Pshaw! I hate the play! But for it Lucy wouldn't have left me. +If it should be a big success, she isn't here to share it. + +_Re-enter ALMA, R., with part._ + +ALMA. (_crosses to sofa_) Here's the part. (_looks round_) What's +become of Dick? + +NED. Mr. Dick said he couldn't wait all day. You are to send the part +to your successor, Miss Ruth Carlton. + +ALMA. (_sits on sofa_) I send the part? Does he imagine I'm the +Parcels Post! + +NED. You won't have to send it far. Miss Carlton's living in this very +house. + +ALMA. Which floor? + +NED. The attic. + +ALMA. (_rises; crosses to NED_) That child play my part? + +NED. (_rises_) You've seen her? + +ALMA. No; I heard all about her from the landlady. She's been here a +week, and never left her room. I'd half a mind to ask her down here +for a change of scene, but I shan't now. (_crosses to L._) + +NED. (_crosses to ALMA_) Shall I take the part up to her? + +ALMA. Let her come down and fetch it. + +NED. You said she shouldn't. + +ALMA. But I say she shall. + +NED. You've changed your mind very quickly. + +ALMA. It's my own mind; I can do what I like with it, I suppose. I'm +not the only changeable person in the world. I know an author who once +said he'd written a part specially for me, that I was the only person +who _could_ play it, and that I was the only person who should play +it; because he thought I was the only person who _would_ play it: and +now he's found another woman, it's all off. He wants to take the part +out of my hands and put it into hers; and a nice mess she'll make of +it, and I hope she will. (_goes round sofa, and up to back_) + +NED. (_crosses to L.C._) How do you know she can't play the part? + +ALMA. (_following NED, L._) Because there's only one woman on the +stage who can--and that's me. That's how I know it; and when your +piece is damned, and they shy bricks at you, you'll know it too. Here, +take your part, and take your play, and take your hat, and take your +stick, and get out of my room. (_thrusting the things on him_) + +NED. (_going up_) I'll take it to Miss Carlton. + +ALMA. (_stopping him; snatches part back; removes his hat and stick, +and bumps him down on sofa_) No, you won't. I tell you she can't play +it! What's more, she _shan't_ play it. (_tucking it under her arm, and +taking stage R._) This part was written for Miss Alma Blake, and no +one but Miss Alma Blake shall touch it! (_crosses R._) + +NED. (_rising; crosses to ALMA, overjoyed_) You've changed your mind +again. + +ALMA. That's only twice. I've changed it twenty times in less time +before now--(_crosses to NED_)--and I shall change it fifty if I like! +Why shouldn't I change my mind? If you had such a nasty, horrid, +cantankerous mind as I've had for the last five minutes, shouldn't you +be precious _glad_ to change it? + +NED. I'm only too delighted. + +ALMA. So am I. + +NED. Alma! + +ALMA. It's "Alma" now! + +NED. Yes--the old Alma! + +ALMA. I'm not middle-aged. You'll make me out a grandmother directly, +and say Miss Carlton is my granddaughter. Miss Carlton! Who's Miss +Carlton? + +NED. Here, keep the part and never mind Miss Carlton. I'll tell +Dick---- + +ALMA. No! Stop! Not a word! Now, don't you interfere between me and my +manager. I shall turn up at rehearsal just as usual. + +NED. But Dick---- + +ALMA. Bother Dick! + +NED. All right, bother him; he's bothered _me_ enough! But how are you +to get over your notice? + +ALMA. Ignore it altogether--say nothing about it. + +NED. But suppose _Dick_ says---- + +ALMA. Tell him he dreamt it. + +NED. But if he shows your letter? + +ALMA. Tear it to pieces--laugh at him! Oh, I know how to manage Dick. +Leave that to me. This happens once a week. (_crosses to R._ ) + +NED. (_getting hat and stick_) Then I shall see you at rehearsal? + +ALMA. Yes. (_crosses to table_) + +NED. Good-bye---- + +ALMA. Send Susan up to me. + +NED. And thank you very much. (_Exit, L.C._) + +ALMA. (_sits L. of table; leaves part on table_) Dick took it out of +me this morning; I must take it out of him this afternoon. He wouldn't +give me five pounds a week more. All right. He'll have to give me ten. +Mr. Dick must be taught his position. (_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C._) Susan, +the brush and comb, and brush out my hair. (_Exit SUSAN, R.C._) Susan, +bring the powder-puff. Susan, the powder-puff. (_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C., +with brush and comb_) Susan, have you seen that girl in the attic? + +SUSAN. (_back of table_) No, miss; but Mrs. Pritchard says she looks +so ill, and never eats a morsel. She wishes you would speak to her; +she seems so lonely. + +ALMA. Do you mean Miss Carlton? + +SUSAN. Yes. Mrs. Pritchard thinks---- + +ALMA. Never mind what Mrs. Pritchard thinks! + +SUSAN. She says she's always crying. + +ALMA. What do I care what Mrs. Pritchard says? I asked you if you'd +seen her. + +SUSAN. No, Miss Blake. + +ALMA. Then go and see her now. + +SUSAN. Yes, Miss Blake. + +ALMA. I'll do my hair myself. Don't mention any name--Mr. Dick's given +her my part to play, and she mightn't care to see me. Say that the +lady on the first floor wants to speak to her on business connected +with the theatre. + +SUSAN. Yes, Miss Blake. (_crosses at back to L.C._) + +ALMA. Bring her down with you. + +SUSAN. If she'll come, I will. + +ALMA. (_turns_) Bring her down with you, whether she'll come or not, +or take a month's warning. (_SUSAN laughs_) What are you laughing at? + +SUSAN. That's the third time to-day you've given me warning. + +ALMA. (_lifting hair-brush_) I'll give you something else, if you're +not quick. (_Exit SUSAN, L.C._) I feel quite curious to see this girl +Dick thinks is good enough to play my part. Some greenhorn at a pound +or two a week, or Dick wouldn't have engaged her. No, she can't be a +greenhorn. She doesn't eat: greenhorns do. And what did Susan say? +She's always crying. Humph! She must be married. The old tale, I +suppose. And yet people go on getting married. (_rises; looks for +puff_) It's a funny world. What has that Susan done with the +powder-puff? Hang the girl! I'll give her warning again as soon as +she comes down. If I had a husband, I believe I should give _him_ +warning to-day. Brutes, all of 'em. (_Exit, R.C._) + +SUSAN. (_outside_) Mind how you turn the corner, they're such awkward +stairs, and it's so dark up here. This is the way. Take a seat, +please. + +_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C., followed by LUCY._ + +LUCY. (_sits sofa_) You're very kind. (_looking full at Susan; +starts_) + +SUSAN. If it's not---- + +LUCY. Susan! + +SUSAN. Mrs. Chetwynd! + +LUCY. Hush! What are you doing here? + +SUSAN. We live here, m'm. + +LUCY. We! Who? (_Re-enter ALMA, R.C., with powder-puff_) Who sent for +me? (_rises_) + +ALMA. I sent for you, Miss Carlton. (_puffing her face_) + +LUCY. Mrs. Blake! (_ALMA drops hand, then turns and signals SUSAN to +go. Exit SUSAN, running, L.C._) I didn't know who you were or I should +not have come. What can you want with me? + +ALMA. (_crosses to LUCY_) To tell the truth, I didn't know it _was_ +you when I sent for you. I thought it was only somebody who had been +trying to supplant me in my business. + +LUCY. And if I had, it would only be just. Haven't you supplanted me +in my home? + +ALMA. It wasn't my fault that you left your home. You left because you +were suspicious of your husband. + +LUCY. I had reason to be. + +ALMA. Oh, probably enough! Men are a bad lot, and he's one of them. + +LUCY. Ned wasn't bad! + +ALMA. Why did you leave him then? (_turning on her quickly_) You love +him? (_thrusting her on sofa, and kneeling down beside her_) Yes, you +do, or you wouldn't resent the way I spoke of him; and loving him, you +should have trusted him. + +LUCY. To be deceived! + +ALMA. Better to trust and be deceived, than to suspect and deceive +_yourself_. You're a fond, foolish girl, who've done your best to +wreck your own life and your husband's too. You've done me a great +wrong, and now I'm going to have my revenge. + +LUCY. What wrong have I done _you?_ + +ALMA. You think I love your husband, but I don't. I never loved any +man but one--my own. You think your husband loves _me,_ but he +doesn't. Nobody loves me--not even my own. + +LUCY. You say so. + +ALMA. I will prove it. You think I am your enemy, but I'm your best +friend. I'll show you, you have done me an injustice, and for my +revenge--(_rises_)--I'll give you back your husband, and forgive you. + +LUCY. (_rises_) Ned wrote a letter to you. + +ALMA. (_at table_) I never received it. + +LUCY. Never received it! When I heard you reading it! + +ALMA. You heard me! + +LUCY. The very words are ringing in my ears, and always will be! "My +own dearest Alma!" + +ALMA. (_reading from part_) "At last I have a moment to myself----" + +LUCY. You said you never received it. You have it there? + +ALMA. I have no letter here. + +LUCY. What are you reading, then? + +ALMA. My part in the new piece. + +LUCY. Those were Ned's very words! + +ALMA. (_quietly_) It is your husband's play. (_pause_) + +LUCY. That letter's in the play? (_snatches part from ALMA_) But +"Alma"! + +ALMA. Was the heroine. (_LUCY drops the part; stands for a moment as +if dazed; then drops her head and falls in ALMA'S arms_) + +_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C._ + +SUSAN. Another visitor! + +ALMA. (_sharply_) I can see nobody! + +SUSAN. But he's coming up. + +LUCY. (_trying to walk_) Let me go first! I can't bear to see anyone. + +ALMA. Put Mrs. Chetwynd in my room. When you feel stronger, I will +talk to you. + +SUSAN. (_leading LUCY off_) I'm very sorry! + +ALMA. Take another warning! (_picks up puff. Exeunt SUSAN and LUCY, +R.C._) Was ever anything so inopportune! (_puffing her face +vigorously. Enter SIR HUMPHREY, L.C._) Sir Humphrey! Is it you? +(_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY; comes down with him_) How kind of you to +come and see me! + +SIR H. I have come to ask you to see someone else, Mrs. Blake. + +ALMA. Anyone you like, of course. + +SIR H. Even your husband? + +ALMA. Tom! (_leans on chair_) + +SIR H. I've brought him with me. Once I said I might be of service to +you; and I can now, if you will see him. + +ALMA. (_leaving chair_) What's the use? When last he saw me he would +scarcely speak to me. + +SIR H. But I have seen him very often since. I have been thinking a +great deal of what you told me, and of what he has told me recently, +and I should like to speak to both of you together. + +ALMA. As you please. + +_Re-enter SUSAN, R.C._ + +SIR H. Ask Mr. Potter to come here. (_to SUSAN_) + +SUSAN. Yes, sir. (_Exit, L.C._) + +SIR H. One favour more. If you have kept the portion of the letter you +last wrote to him, will you entrust me with it? + +ALMA. I will bring it you. + +SIR H. I don't think you'll regret the confidence. (_puts hat and +gloves down. Exit ALMA, R.C._) How shall I put it to them? (_pacing up +and down, his eyes fall on the picture, R._) What's that? His picture! +Ah! the very thing! (_Enter TOM, L.C._) Come in, your wife will see +you. + +TOM. Very well. But I don't know what purpose it will serve. It's only +my respect for you that brings me. + +SIR H. Tom, do you recognise that picture? + +TOM. (_surprised_) It's my stupid knights! + +SIR H. Ned gave it Mrs. Blake. You know the story? + +TOM. Didn't I tell it _you?_ + +SIR H. Yet, you've not learnt its lesson. After you left my house so +suddenly, upon your recognition of your wife, I wouldn't meet you. I +was like those knights. I didn't see what purpose it would serve. But +I was wrong. + +TOM. As _I_ am now. You're right. Thank you for bringing me, whatever +comes of it. + +SIR H. You have your portion of that letter? + +TOM. (_putting hat down on sofa_) Here it is. (_gives it to SIR +HUMPHREY. Re-enter ALMA, R.C. SIR HUMPHREY goes to meet her, and takes +from her the paper in her hand--then leads her near to TOM, and takes +his place between them, glancing meanwhile over the note_) + +SIR H. Mrs. Blake, I was just reminding Mr. Potter of an old fable you +may perhaps have heard. Once on a time there were two knights who +fought about a certain silver shield. Silver, as one called it--the +other called it gold. When they had killed each other, so the story +runs, it was discovered both of them were right, and, at the same +time, both of them were wrong. The shield was gold on one side, silver +on the other. Years afterwards the spirits of those knights revisited +the earth. They took the form, the one of a young husband, and the +other of his wife. They loved one another, but they were unhappy. The +wife was a coquette. I'm sure she meant no harm but she incurred her +husband's anger. He remonstrated with her; and the result was she +resolved to say good-bye to her admirers. She wrote to one of them to +tell him so. When she had written the first sheet she put it in her +desk; and in the middle of the next was interrupted. Her husband, +finding it, and thinking it was meant for him, left her. (_pause_) Six +years they lived apart. Each had one portion of the letter, and each +showed it to a common friend, when it occurred to this same common +friend to put the sheets together--(_does so_)--and lo! he found that +each of them was right again, and each of them again was wrong. He +took upon him to reverse the sheets--(_reverses them_)--and asked to +hear them read aloud together. (_looks at TOM_) The husband held the +first sheet, and began. (_hands ALMA'S sheet to TOM_) + +TOM. (_reads_) "You will consider this a very cruel letter, but I mean +it kindly. Something has occurred to show me I've been acting very +foolishly, and deceiving both my husband and you. You may think me +heartless and fickle; but I haven't really changed. I always loved him +in my heart of hearts. I know he doesn't like me seeing you; and to +continue seeing you against his will would be like saying to----" + +ALMA. (_to whom SIR HUMPHREY hands TOM'S sheet; reads_)--"Tom, I love +another more than I love you. (_pause_) Isn't it best that we should +say good-bye? I have no right to tell you I will never see you, for +the fault is mine; but if I do, it will only be painful, and I leave +it to your magnanimity to go away from me for ever." + +SIR H. I have done. (_goes up and turns his back to them, deeply +moved; pause_) + +TOM. And have we lost six years of this short life? + +ALMA. (_crosses to TOM_) Not lost! if we have learnt to trust +appearance less, and one another more. + +TOM. Is it you, Alma? Time and grief have made us almost strangers. + +ALMA. But time and happiness shall make us friends. + +_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C. TOM crosses to R._ + +SUSAN. Dr. and Mrs. Dozey. + +_Enter DR. and MRS. DOZEY, L.C. Exit SUSAN, L.C._ + +DR. (_down L._) Being on a visit to the Metropolis, and happening to +be in the neighbourhood---- (_shakes hands_) + +ALMA. Very glad to see you, doctor. How is Mrs. Dozey? + +MRS. D. I owe you an apology, my dear. + +ALMA. You owe me an apology! What for? + +MRS. D. The months and months I thought you were a widow; when all the +time you were a respectable married woman. (_embraces ALMA, and sits +in armchair, L. of table_) + +TOM. Ah! the knights again. + +DR. (_crosses to TOM_) Herein we see the folly of rash judgment, and +the frailty of our flesh. The subject naturally subdivides itself---- + +ALMA. My husband. + +TOM. How d'you do? (_takes DR. DOZEY aside_) + +MRS. D. You're reconciled? + +ALMA. At last. + +MRS. D. Oh, how I shall enjoy a sermon after this! + +_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C._ + +SUSAN. Mr. Dick, Mr. Chetwynd. + +DICK. Come along, Chetwynd. (_down R.C. of ALMA. NED crosses to SIR +HUMPHREY. SUSAN exits, L.C._) Morning everybody. Important business. +(_puts hat on sofa_) + +SIR H. Business? Then I'm afraid we're in the way. (_NED crosses L._) + +ALMA. Not in the least. Don't move. If anybody's in the way it's Mr. +Dick. To what am I indebted for this intrusion? + +DICK. Just been upstairs looking for Miss Carlton, and I'm told you've +been getting at her. What are you up to now? What business have you +with my leading lady? + +ALMA. Miss Carlton's indisposed, and can't attend rehearsal. + +DICK. Teaching her some of your own tricks already. Where's the +doctor's certificate? + +ALMA. She's seriously ill, and won't be able to appear at all. + +DICK. Not appear! not appear! This is your doing, to throw me over at +the eleventh hour! Someone shall pay for this! + +ALMA. Yes; you shall pay for it yourself. + +DICK. (_desperate_) Not appear! Who's to play the part? + +ALMA. The woman it was written for! Who else? + +DICK. You'll play it after all? You'll come back to me? You're not +half a bad sort, when all's said and done! + +ALMA. Yes, I've decided to come back to you. + +DICK. (_overjoyed_) At the old figure? + +ALMA. No--(_DICK'S face falls_)--at ten pounds a week advance. + +DICK. (_dismayed_) Ten! You said five last night. + +ALMA. But I say ten this morning. + +NED. Better accept. + +ALMA. It'll be fifteen to-morrow. + +NED. Give it her, Dick. + +ALMA. Or I won't play the part. (_DR. DOZEY comes down, R._) + +DICK. Gad, I should like to give it her! This is a conspiracy. No, +hang me if I give you ten pounds a week rise. Go to the---- (_crosses +to R.; meets DR. DOZEY_) + +DR. Hem! + +DICK. (_looking at DR. DOZEY_) To the Antipodes. (_to ALMA_) You've +been there once, and you can go again. + +DR. Diana, I was too precipitate. + +DICK. I'll find some other woman. You shan't play the part. + +NED. Then you _shan't_ play my piece. + +DICK. (_crosses to NED_) Shan't play your piece? _Your_ piece? + +NED. My piece. + +DICK. Yours, after all the alterations I've made! + +NED. Well, you _have_ cut it up! (_sits head of sofa_) + +DICK. Do you suppose there's only one piece in the world? My room is +full of 'em--chock full--so full I can scarcely get into it! + +NED. All rubbish. + +DICK. You haven't read them, sir. + +NED. No more have you. + +ALMA. You'd better settle, Dick. + +DICK. (_crosses to C._) Be beaten by a woman? No, by jingo, no! (_puts +on hat_) I'll find some other woman. Hang it all! there are plenty of +women in the world--too many--hang _them_ all! Good morning everybody; +and may I be---- (_runs against SUSAN, who re-enters, L.C., with +telegram; he stops_) + +SUSAN. Oh! (_recovering herself_) Telegram, miss. + +DICK. Telegram? + +ALMA. (_who's opened it_) From Baker of the Colosseum. (_DICK looks +over her while she reads_) "Hear you leave Dick. Come to me. Forty +pounds a week. Wire answer. Reply paid." + +DICK. (_snatching form, crosses to chair where MRS. DOZEY is asleep; +puts his knee on elbow; wakes MRS. DOZEY_) Look here, _I'll_ answer +that. (_writes_) "Blake does _not_ leave me. _I_ pay forty-five. Mind +your own business." (_gives form to SUSAN_) + +ALMA. Forty-five. + +DICK. It's settled. (_they shake hands; puts hat down on table with a +bang, starting DR. and MRS. DOZEY_) + +MRS. D. Dionysius? + +DR. After mature deliberation, I have arrived at the conclusion that +Mr. Dick did not intend to say "Antipodes." + +MRS. D. I don't believe he did. (_ALMA leaves DICK and goes to SUSAN, +to whom she gives instructions in dumb show, leading her R. TOM +approaches DICK, who's dropped on sofa, wiping his forehead_) + +TOM. You got the worst of that, sir? + +DICK. No, I didn't. I never get the worst of anything. If she had +played her cards well I'd have given her fifty. + +TOM. Fifty? + +DICK. She's worth it. + +TOM. Very glad to hear it. (_turns off, L._) + +DICK. (_to himself, half following TOM_) Why is he glad to hear it? +(_aside to SIR HUMPHREY_) I say, who is that? + +SIR H. Mrs. Blake's husband. + +DICK. (_drops on to seat, C., at R. back_) He'll tell her! He's +telling her. (_TOM and ALMA laugh over it across the sofa_) No matter. +(_coming down, C.; addressing ALMA_) I'll take it out of you. I'll +change the bill continually. You shall have rehearsals morning, noon, +and night. (_Exit SUSAN, R.C._) + +NED. (_down, L._) Oh, no, you won't. You haven't plays enough. + +DICK. Soon get 'em. Sparkle shall set his type-writer to work, and you +must set your wits. I'll give you a wholesale order. + +NED. I'm a slow worker; I'm afraid I couldn't execute it. + +ALMA. Why not? What's the difficulty? + +NED. I can't think of a plot. + +ALMA. I'll give you one. + +SIR H. (_coming down_) You, Miss Blake! (_DICK laughs_) + +ALMA. (_to DICK_) What are you laughing at? + +DICK. (_sitting down at back, L.C._) Your plot. A nice old hash up +it'll be. + +ALMA. You haven't heard it. + +DICK. Don't want to hear it. All been done before! + +SIR H. It'll be new to us, at any rate. + +ALMA. Sir Humphrey, sit down. (_SIR HUMPHREY sits at back of table_) +Doctor, you shall be my audience. + +DR. (_rising; also MRS. DOZEY_) Pardon me, but it is against my +principles. + +ALMA. Did I say audience? I meant congregation. + +MRS. D. (_sits_) Ah! (_goes to sleep_) + +DR. That removes my scruples. There is no evil in an audience, +regarded in the aspect of a congregation. (_sits_) + +ALMA. Don't make yourself too comfortable, Ned. I shall want you to +play a leading part. Dick, you shall be the front row of the pit. +(_DICK brings chair down, C. Re-enter SUSAN, R.C._) And here comes +Susan, just in time to be the prompter. Ready? (_sits on sofa_) +Curtain up. Hero and heroine, a young married couple. They're very +fond of one another--very happy. So the play opens brightly. + +DICK. Wife working slippers--husband smoking--embraces--footstool +business--the old fake--told you so. + +ALMA. The husband is an author, like Mr. Chetwynd; and as the act +progresses, his wife grows rather jealous. + +DICK. Quite a new motive, isn't it? Only been done about a thousand +times. + +DR. (_rises; looks at DICK, who turns away_) These interruptions are +distracting. (_sits_) + +MRS. D. (_wakes_) Silence! (_goes to sleep again_) + +SIR H. Please go on. + +ALMA. He is at work upon a play, in which a faithless lover is a +leading character. + +NED. That is _my_ play! + +DICK. Of course it is! I knew Blake couldn't be original. + +ALMA. The lover writes to tell his second love how much better he +likes her than his first, and the sheet of paper on which the letter +is written, the author, in the old untidy way, leaves lying about the +house. + +DICK. It's all been done! Wife finds the letter--thinks it's +genuine--and leaves home to slow music. + +ALMA. End of Act the first. + +DICK. (_rises_) And a nice fine old crusted situation that is to ring +down on. + +DR. (_rises_) It is a drawback to interpolations that they interrupt +the argument and distract the attention. (_business with DICK repeat; +sits_) + +SIR H. Never mind Mr. Dick. Come to the second act. (_NED listens +eagerly_) + +ALMA. The wife goes on the stage. + +DICK. What manager would take her? + +ALMA. Probably some old curmudgeon who'd just refused his leading lady +a few pounds. (_DICK turns from her; meets DR. DOZEY looking at him on +the other side, then back again_) + +DICK. Go on--go on--we're waiting. + +ALMA. Well, in course of time, a certain part is given her; and in the +part she finds the letter she'd misunderstood. + +TOM. It is her husband's play! + +NED. (_much excited_) _My_ play! + +SIR H. Yours! (_beginning to understand_) + +ALMA. (_rises_) Act the third. (_turns to SUSAN_) Prompter, you'd +better call the heroine. (_rises. SUSAN opens door, R._) + +NED. (_rising_) Go on! + +ALMA. One day she meets a certain actress---- + +NED. You! + +ALMA. Who lives in the same house---- + +DICK. (_rises; gets down, R.C._) Hallo! here's something new. + +ALMA. Who knows her husband, and who tells the story. He stands +aghast--his wife is at the door--they are about to meet--she only +waits her cue. Her cue is her own name. Her name is---- (_SUSAN +signals to LUCY, R.C._) + +NED. Lucy! (_rushes to meet her_) + +_Re-enter LUCY, R.C._ + +LUCY. Ned! (_running into his arms; all rise except MRS. DOZEY_) + +ALMA. Tableau! + +DICK. (_as if signalling the flies_) Ring! + +ALMA. Curtain! + +CURTAIN. + + + +Transcriber's Note + +This transcription is based on scanned images posted by Google from a +copy from the Harvard library: + +nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.FIG:002663452 + +Note that the Google scans are included in a set of four Sydney Grundy +plays published by Samuel French posted under the title of the first +play in the set, _A Fool's Paradise._ Based on how the Harvard Library +catalogs the individual copies, I assume Google combined the different +scans into a single document. _The Silver Shield_ is the fourth play +in the set. + +French's Acting Editions from the nineteenth century tend to have +minor editorial inconsistencies and errors as well as errors +introduced in the printing process, depending on the condition and +inking of the plates. Thus, for example, it is at times difficult to +determine whether a certain letter is an "c," "e," or "o" or whether a +certain punctuation mark is a period or a comma. Where context made +the choice obvious, the obvious reading was given the benefit of the +doubt without comment. + +The following changes were noted: + +- Throughout the text, all instances of "and" between character names +in stage directions are consistently italicized and in lower case. + +- Throughout the text, all instances of "L.C." and "R.C." have been +made consistent so that there is no space between them. + +- Throughout the text, the use of dashes has been made consistent. + +- p. 3: Can't you see the likeness--Added a question mark to the end +of the sentence. + +- p. 5: ...to bear the purring cat...--Changed "bear" to "hear". + +- p. 9: (_arranges hersel before the glass_)--Changed "hersel" to +"herself". + +- p. 9: graually gets round, and down--Changed "graually" to +"gradually". + +- p. 12: Scrubbs is the man for skies, --Changed comma after "skies" +to a period. + +- p. 13: What nonsense I never met you...--Added an exclamation mark +after "nonsense". + +- p. 14: ...should have said nothing, We don't...--Changed comma to a +period. + +- p. 16: (_embraces Dr. DOZEY, while ALMA shakes..._--Changed "Dr." to +small caps in html version or all caps in text version. + +- p. 18: What's the matter, Mrs. DOZEY?--Changed small caps in +printing of "Dozey" to initial cap. + +- p. 19: I believe you're smitten Men are all alike.--Added period +after "smitten". + +- p. 23: _LUCY sits R._--Added a comma after "sits" in space that +appeared to be left for one. + +- p. 30: I don't read plays, sir; I produce em.--Added an apostrophe +before "em". + +- p. 32: You may--you may It's quite a relief to hear a little bad +language.--Added a period between "may" and "It's". + +- p. 38: (_Exit through window off, L._) _SERVANT closes +window..._--Deleted closing parenthesis after "L.". + +- p. 39: MRS. D. It' an elopement!--Added an "s" after the apostrophe. + +- p. 42: you can t be sorry for me, Miss Blake.--Added an apostrophe +between "can" and "t". + +- p. 47: Say that the lady on the first floor wants t speak to her on +business...--Changed "t" to "to". + +- p. 51: I have no right to tell you I will; never see you...--Deleted +semicolon. + +- p. 54: DR. (_rising: also MRS. DOZEY_)--Changed colon to semicolon +for consistency. + +Variant spellings such as "bran new" and "weazel" were not changed. + +The html version of this etext attempts to reproduce the layout of the +printed text. However, some concessions have been made. For example, +the spacing above and below the stage directions has been +standardized, and in the stage directions, no attempt was made to +reproduce whether the punctuation was italicized. Thus, if a +punctuation mark was adjacent to an html <span> tag, it was included +within the <span> group. This prevents line breaks in the display text +of some ereaders right before the punctuation mark. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Silver Shield, by Sydney Grundy + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41033 *** |