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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/4497-0.txt b/4497-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..63a2193 --- /dev/null +++ b/4497-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1307 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4497 *** + +THE SENTIMENTALISTS + +An Unfinished Comedy + +By George Meredith + + + + + DRAMATIS PERSONAE + +HOMEWARE. + +PROFESSOR SPIRAL. + +ARDEN,............. In love with Astraea. + +SWITHIN,........... Sympathetics. +OSIER, + +DAME DRESDEN,...... Sister to Homeware. + +ASTRAEA,........... Niece to Dame Dresden and Homeware. + +LYRA,.............. A Wife. + +LADY OLDLACE. + +VIRGINIA. + +WINIFRED. + + + + THE SENTIMENTALISTS + + AN UNFINISHED COMEDY + + +The scene is a Surrey garden in early summer. The paths are shaded by +tall box-wood hedges. The--time is some sixty years ago. + + + SCENE I + + PROFESSOR SPIRAL, DAME DRESDEN, LADY OLDLACE, + VIRGINIA, WINIFRED, SWITHIN, and OSIER + +(As they slowly promenade the garden, the professor is delivering one of +his exquisite orations on Woman.) + +SPIRAL: One husband! The woman consenting to marriage takes but one. +For her there is no widowhood. That punctuation of the sentence called +death is not the end of the chapter for her. It is the brilliant proof +of her having a soul. So she exalts her sex. Above the wrangle and +clamour of the passions she is a fixed star. After once recording her +obedience to the laws of our common nature--that is to say, by descending +once to wedlock--she passes on in sovereign disengagement--a dedicated +widow. + + (By this time they have disappeared from view. HOMEWARE appears; + he craftily avoids joining their party, like one who is unworthy of + such noble oratory. He desires privacy and a book, but is disturbed + by the arrival of ARDEN, who is painfully anxious to be polite to + 'her uncle Homeware.') + + + + SCENE II + + HOMEWARE, ARDEN + +ARDEN: A glorious morning, sir. + +HOMEWARE: The sun is out, sir. + +ARDEN: I am happy in meeting you, Mr. Homeware. + +HOMEWARE: I can direct you to the ladies, Mr. Arden. You will find them +up yonder avenue. + +ARDEN: They are listening, I believe, to an oration from the mouth of +Professor Spiral. + +HOMEWARE: On an Alpine flower which has descended to flourish on English +soil. Professor Spiral calls it Nature's 'dedicated widow.' + +ARDEN: 'Dedicated widow'? + +HOMEWARE: The reference you will observe is to my niece Astraea. + +ARDEN: She is dedicated to whom? + +HOMEWARE: To her dead husband! You see the reverse of Astraea, says the +professor, in those world-infamous widows who marry again. + +ARDEN: Bah! + +HOMEWARE: Astraea, it is decided, must remain solitary, virgin cold, +like the little Alpine flower. Professor Spiral has his theme. + +ARDEN: He will make much of it. May I venture to say that I prefer my +present company? + +HOMEWARE: It is a singular choice. I can supply you with no weapons for +the sort of stride in which young men are usually engaged. You belong to +the camp you are avoiding. + +ARDEN: Achilles was not the worse warrior, sir, for his probation in +petticoats. + +HOMEWARE: His deeds proclaim it. But Alexander was the better chieftain +until he drank with Lais. + +ARDEN: No, I do not plead guilty to Bacchus. + +HOMEWARE: You are confessing to the madder form of drunkenness. + +ARDEN: How, sir, I beg? + +HOMEWARE: How, when a young man sees the index to himself in everything +spoken! + +ARDEN: That might have the look. I did rightly in coming to you, sir. + +HOMEWARE: 'Her uncle Homeware'? + +ARDEN: You read through us all, sir. + +HOMEWARE: It may interest you to learn that you are the third of the +gentlemen commissioned to consult the lady's uncle Homeware. + +ARDEN: The third. + +HOMEWARE: Yes, she is pursued. It could hardly be otherwise. Her +attractions are acknowledged, and the house is not a convent. Yet, Mr. +Arden, I must remind you that all of you are upon an enterprise held to +be profane by the laws of this region. Can you again forget that Astraea +is a widow? + +ARDEN: She was a wife two months; she has been a widow two years. + +HOMEWARE: The widow of the great and venerable Professor Towers is not +to measure her widowhood by years. His, from the altar to the tomb. As +it might be read, a one day's walk! + +ARDEN: Is she, in the pride of her youth, to be sacrificed to a +whimsical feminine delicacy? + +HOMEWARE: You have argued it with her? + +ARDEN: I have presumed. + +HOMEWARE: And still she refused her hand! + +ARDEN: She commended me to you, sir. She has a sound judgement of +persons. + +HOMEWARE: I should put it that she passes the Commissioners of Lunacy, +on the ground of her being a humorous damsel. Your predecessors had also +argued it with her; and they, too, discovered their enemy in a whimsical +feminine delicacy. Where is the difference between you? Evidently she +cannot perceive it, and I have to seek: You will have had many +conversations with Astraea? + +ARDEN: I can say, that I am thrice the man I was before I had them. + +HOMEWARE: You have gained in manhood from conversations with a widow in +her twenty-second year; and you want more of her. + +ARDEN: As much as I want more wisdom. + +HOMEWARE: You would call her your Muse? + +ARDEN: So prosaic a creature as I would not dare to call her that. + +HOMEWARE: You have the timely mantle of modesty, Mr. Arden. She has +prepared you for some of the tests with her uncle Homeware. + +ARDEN: She warned me to be myself, without a spice of affectation. + +HOMEWARE: No harder task could be set a young man in modern days. Oh, +the humorous damsel. You sketch me the dimple at her mouth. + +ARDEN: Frankly, sir, I wish you to know me better; and I think I can +bear inspection. Astraea sent me to hear the reasons why she refuses me +a hearing. + +HOMEWARE: Her reason, I repeat, is this; to her idea, a second wedlock +is unholy. Further, it passes me to explain. The young lady lands us +where we were at the beginning; such must have been her humorous +intention. + +ARDEN: What can I do? + +HOMEWARE: Love and war have been compared. Both require strategy and +tactics, according to my recollection of the campaign. + +ARDEN: I will take to heart what you say, sir. + +HOMEWARE: Take it to head. There must be occasional descent of lovers' +heads from the clouds. And Professor Spiral,--But here we have a belated +breeze of skirts. + + (The reference is to the arrival of LYRA, breathless.) + + + + SCENE III + + HOMEWARE, ARDEN, LYRA + + +LYRA: My own dear uncle Homeware! + +HOMEWARE: But where is Pluriel? + +LYRA: Where is a woman's husband when she is away from him? + +HOMEWARE: In Purgatory, by the proper reckoning. But hurry up the +avenue, or you will be late for Professor Spiral's address. + +LYRA: I know it all without hearing. Their Spiral! Ah, Mr. Arden! You +have not chosen badly. The greater my experience, the more do I value my +uncle Homeware's company. + + (She is affectionate to excess but has a roguish eye withal, as of + one who knows that uncle Homeware suspects all young men and most + young women.) + +HOMEWARE: Agree with the lady promptly, my friend. + +ARDEN: I would gladly boast of so lengthened an experience, Lady +Pluriel. + +LYRA: I must have a talk with Astraea, my dear uncle. Her letters breed +suspicions. She writes feverishly. The last one hints at service on the +West Coast of Africa. + +HOMEWARE: For the draining of a pestiferous land, or an enlightenment of +the benighted black, we could not despatch a missionary more effective +than the handsomest widow in Great Britain. + +LYRA: Have you not seen signs of disturbance? + +HOMEWARE: A great oration may be a sedative. + + +LYRA: I have my suspicions. + +HOMEWARE: Mr. Arden, I could counsel you to throw yourself at Lady +Pluriel's feet, and institute her as your confessional priest. + +ARDEN: Madam, I am at your feet. I am devoted to the lady. + +LYRA: Devoted. There cannot be an objection. It signifies that a man +asks for nothing in return! + +HOMEWARE: Have a thought upon your words with this lady, Mr. Arden! + +ARDEN: Devoted, I said. I am. I would give my life for her. + +LYRA: Expecting it to be taken to-morrow or next day? Accept my +encomiums. A male devotee is within an inch of a miracle. Women had +been looking for this model for ages, uncle. + +HOMEWARE: You are the model, Mr Arden! + +LYRA: Can you have intended to say that it is in view of marriage you +are devoted to the widow of Professor Towers? + +ARDEN: My one view. + +LYRA: It is a star you are beseeching to descend. + +ARDEN: It is. + +LYRA: You disappoint me hugely. You are of the ordinary tribe after +all; and your devotion craves an enormous exchange, infinitely surpassing +the amount you bestow. + +ARDEN: It does. She is rich in gifts; I am poor. But I give all I +have. + +LYRA: These lovers, uncle Homeware! + +HOMEWARE: A honey-bag is hung up and we have them about us. They would +persuade us that the chief business of the world is a march to the altar. + +ARDEN: With the right partner, if the business of the world is to be +better done. + +LYRA: Which right partner has been chosen on her part, by a veiled +woman, who marches back from the altar to discover that she has chained +herself to the skeleton of an idea, or is in charge of that devouring +tyrant, an uxorious husband. Is Mr. Arden in favour with the Dame, +uncle? + +HOMEWARE: My sister is an unsuspicious potentate, as you know. +Pretenders to the hand of an inviolate widow bite like waves at a rock. + +LYRA: Professor Spiral advances rapidly. + +HOMEWARE: Not, it would appear, when he has his audience of ladies and +their satellites. + +LYRA: I am sure I hear a spring-tide of enthusiasm coming. + +ARDEN: I will see. + + (He goes up the path.) + +LYRA: Now! my own dear uncle, save me from Pluriel. I have given him +the slip in sheer desperation; but the man is at his shrewdest when he is +left to guess at my heels. Tell him I am anywhere but here. Tell him I +ran away to get a sense of freshness in seeing him again. Let me have +one day of liberty, or, upon my word, I shall do deeds; I shall console +young Arden: I shall fly to Paris and set my cap at presidents and +foreign princes. Anything rather than be eaten up every minute, as I am. +May no woman of my acquaintance marry a man of twenty years her senior! +She marries a gigantic limpet. At that period of his life a man becomes +too voraciously constant. + +HOMEWARE: Cupid clipped of wing is a destructive parasite. + +LYRA: I am in dead earnest, uncle, and I will have a respite, or else +let decorum beware! + + (Arden returns.) + +ARDEN: The ladies are on their way. + +LYRA: I must get Astraea to myself. + +HOMEWARE: My library is a virgin fortress, Mr. Arden. Its gates are +open to you on other topics than the coupling of inebriates. + + (He enters the house--LYRA disappears in the garden--Spiral's + audience reappear without him.) + + + + SCENE IV + + DAME DRESDEN, LADY OLDLACE, VIRGINIA, WINIFRED, + ARDEN, SWITHIN, OSIER + + +LADY OLDLACE: Such perfect rhythm! + +WINIFRED: Such oratory! + +LADY OLDLACE: A master hand. I was in a trance from the first sentence +to the impressive close. + +OSIER: Such oratory is a whole orchestral symphony. + +VIRGINIA: Such command of intonation and subject! + +SWITHIN: That resonant voice! + +LADY OLDLACE: Swithin, his flow of eloquence! He launched forth! + +SWITHIN: Like an eagle from a cliff. + +OSIER: The measure of the words was like a beat of wings. + +SWITHIN: He makes poets of us. + +DAME DRESDEN: Spiral achieved his pinnacle to-day! + +VIRGINIA: How treacherous is our memory when we have most the longing to +recall great sayings! + +OSIER: True, I conceive that my notes will be precious. + +WINIFRED: You could take notes! + +LADY OLDLACE: It seems a device for missing the quintessential. + +SWITHIN: Scraps of the body to the loss of the soul of it. We can allow +that our friend performed good menial service. + +WINIFRED: I could not have done the thing. + +SWITHIN: In truth; it does remind one of the mess of pottage. + +LADY OLDLACE: One hardly felt one breathed. + +VIRGINIA: I confess it moved me to tears. + +SWITHIN: There is a pathos for us in the display of perfection. Such +subtle contrast with our individual poverty affects us. + +WINIFRED: Surely there were passages of a distinct and most exquisite +pathos. + +LADY OLDLACE: As in all great oratory! The key of it is the pathos. + +VIRGINIA: In great oratory, great poetry, great fiction; you try it by +the pathos. All our critics agree in stipulating for the pathos. My +tears were no feminine weakness, I could not be a discordant instrument. + +SWITHIN: I must make confession. He played on me too. + +OSIER: We shall be sensible for long of that vibration from the touch of +a master hand. + +ARDEN: An accomplished player can make a toy-shop fiddle sound you a +Stradivarius. + +DAME DRESDEN: Have you a right to a remark, Mr. Arden? What could have +detained you? + +ARDEN: Ah, Dame. It may have been a warning that I am a discordant +instrument. I do not readily vibrate. + +DAME DRESDEN: A discordant instrument is out of place in any civil +society. You have lost what cannot be recovered. + +ARDEN: There are the notes. + +OSIER: Yes, the notes. + +SWITHIN: You can be satisfied with the dog's feast at the table, Mr. +Arden! + +OSIER: Ha! + +VIRGINIA: Never have I seen Astraea look sublimer in her beauty than +with her eyes uplifted to the impassioned speaker, reflecting every +variation of his tones. + +ARDEN: Astraea! + +LADY OLDLACE: She was entranced when he spoke of woman descending from +her ideal to the gross reality of man. + +OSIER: Yes, yes. I have the words [reads]: 'Woman is to the front of +man, holding the vestal flower of a purer civilization. I see,' he says. +'the little taper in her hands transparent round the light, against rough +winds.' + +DAME DRESDEN: And of Astraea herself, what were the words? 'Nature's +dedicated widow.' + +SWITHIN: Vestal widow, was it not? + +VIRGINIA: Maiden widow, I think. + +DAME DRESDEN: We decide for 'dedicated.' + +WINIFRED: Spiral paid his most happy tribute to the memory of her late +husband, the renowned Professor Towers. + +VIRGINIA: But his look was at dear Astraea. + +ARDEN: At Astraea? Why? + +VIRGINIA: For her sanction doubtless. + +ARDEN: Ha! + +WINIFRED: He said his pride would ever be in his being received as the +successor of Professor Towers. + +ARDEN: Successor! + +SWITHIN: Guardian was it not? + +OSIER: Tutor. I think he said. + + (The three gentlemen consult Osier's notes uneasily.) + +DAME DRESDEN: Our professor must by this time have received in full +Astraea's congratulations, and Lyra is hearing from her what it is to be +too late. You will join us at the luncheon table, if you do not feel +yourself a discordant instrument there, Mr. Arden? + +ARDEN (going to her): The allusion to knife and fork tunes my strings +instantly, Dame. + +DAME DRESDEN: You must help me to-day, for the professor will be tired, +though we dare not hint at it in his presence. No reference, ladies, to +the great speech we have been privileged to hear; we have expressed our +appreciation and he could hardly bear it. + +ARDEN: Nothing is more distasteful to the orator! + +VIRGINIA: As with every true genius, he is driven to feel humbly human +by the exultation of him. + +SWITHIN: He breathes in a rarified air. + +OSIER: I was thrilled, I caught at passing beauties. I see that here +and there I have jotted down incoherencies, lines have seduced me, so +that I missed the sequence--the precious part. Ladies, permit me to rank +him with Plato as to the equality of women and men. + +WINIFRED: It is nobly said. + +OSIER: And with the Stoics, in regard to celibacy. + + (By this time all the ladies have gone into the house.) + +ARDEN: Successor! Was the word successor? + + (ARDEN, SWITHIN, and OSIER are excitedly searching the notes when + SPIRAL passes and strolls into the house. His air of self- + satisfaction increases their uneasiness they follow him. ASTRAEA + and LYRA come down the path.) + + + + SCENE V + + ASTRAEA, LYRA + + +LYRA: Oh! Pluriel, ask me of him! I wish I were less sure he would not +be at the next corner I turn. + +ASTRAEA: You speak of your husband strangely, Lyra. + +LYRA: My head is out of a sack. I managed my escape from him this +morning by renouncing bath and breakfast; and what a relief, to be in the +railway carriage alone! that is, when the engine snorted. And if I set +eyes on him within a week, he will hear some truths. His idea of +marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody. My hat is on, and on +goes Pluriel's. My foot on the stairs; I hear his boot behind me. In my +boudoir I am alone one minute, and then the door opens to the inevitable. +I pay a visit, he is passing the house as I leave it. He will not even +affect surprise. I belong to him, I am cat's mouse. And he will look +doating on me in public. And when I speak to anybody, he is that fearful +picture of all smirks. Fling off a kid glove after a round of calls; +feel your hand--there you have me now that I am out of him for my half a +day, if for as long. + +ASTRAEA: This is one of the world's happy marriages! + +LYRA: This is one of the world's choice dishes! And I have it planted +under my nostrils eternally. Spare me the mention of Pluriel until he +appears; that's too certain this very day. Oh! good husband! good kind +of man! whatever you please; only some peace, I do pray, for the husband- +haunted wife. I like him, I like him, of course, but I want to breathe. +Why, an English boy perpetually bowled by a Christmas pudding would come +to loathe the mess. + +ASTRAEA: His is surely the excess of a merit. + +LYRA: Excess is a poison. Excess of a merit is a capital offence in +morality. It disgusts, us with virtue. And you are the cunningest of +fencers, tongue, or foils. You lead me to talk of myself, and I hate the +subject. By the way, you have practised with Mr. Arden. + +ASTRAEA: A tiresome instructor, who lets you pass his guard to +compliment you on a hit. + +LYRA: He rather wins me. + +ASTRAEA: He does at first. + +LYRA: Begins Plurielizing, without the law to back him, does he? + +ASTRAEA: The fencing lessons are at an end. + +LYRA: The duetts with Mr. Swithin's violoncello continue? + +ASTRAEA: He broke through the melody. + +LYRA: There were readings in poetry with Mr. Osier, I recollect. + +ASTRAEA: His own compositions became obtrusive. + +LYRA: No fencing, no music, no poetry! no West Coast of Africa either, +I suppose. + +ASTRAEA: Very well! I am on my defence. You at least shall not +misunderstand me, Lyra. One intense regret I have; that I did not live +in the time of the Amazons. They were free from this question of +marriage; this babble of love. Why am I so persecuted? He will not take +a refusal. There are sacred reasons. I am supported by every woman +having the sense of her dignity. I am perverted, burlesqued by the fury +of wrath I feel at their incessant pursuit. And I despise Mr. Osier and +Mr. Swithin because they have an air of pious agreement with the Dame, +and are conspirators behind their mask. + +LYRA: False, false men! + +ASTRAEA: They come to me. I am complimented on being the vulnerable +spot. + +LYRA: The object desired is usually addressed by suitors, my poor +Astraea! + +ASTRAEA: With the assumption, that as I am feminine I must necessarily +be in the folds of the horrible constrictor they call Love, and that I +leap to the thoughts of their debasing marriage. + +LYRA: One of them goes to Mr. Homeware. + +ASTRAEA: All are sent to him in turn. He can dispose of them. + +LYRA: Now that is really masterly fun, my dear; most creditable to you! +Love, marriage, a troop of suitors, and uncle Homeware. No, it would not +have occurred to me, and--I am considered to have some humour. Of +course, he disposes of them. He seemed to have a fairly favourable +opinion of Mr. Arden. + +ASTRAEA: I do not share it. He is the least respectful of the +sentiments entertained by me. Pray, spare me the mention of him, as you +say of your husband. He has that pitiful conceit in men, which sets them +thinking that a woman must needs be susceptible to the declaration of the +mere existence of their passion. He is past argument. Impossible for +him to conceive a woman's having a mind above the conditions of her sex. +A woman, according to him, can have no ideal of life, except as a ball to +toss in the air and catch in a cup. Put him aside. . . . We creatures +are doomed to marriage, and if we shun it, we are a kind of cripple. +He is grossly earthy in his view of us. We are unable to move a step +in thought or act unless we submit to have a husband. That is his +reasoning. Nature! Nature! I have to hear of Nature! We must be above +Nature, I tell him, or, we shall be very much below. He is ranked among +our clever young men; and he can be amusing. So far he passes muster; +and he has a pleasant voice. I dare say he is an uncle Homeware's good +sort of boy. Girls like him. Why does he not fix his attention upon one +of them; Why upon me? We waste our time in talking of him . . . . +The secret of it is, that he has no reverence. The marriage he vaunts is +a mere convenient arrangement for two to live together under command of +nature. Reverence for the state of marriage is unknown to him. How +explain my feeling? I am driven into silence. Cease to speak of him +. . . . He is the dupe of his eloquence--his passion, he calls it. +I have only to trust myself to him, and--I shall be one of the world's +married women! Words are useless. How am I to make him see that it is +I who respect the state of marriage by refusing; not he by perpetually +soliciting. Once married, married for ever. Widow is but a term. When +women hold their own against him, as I have done, they will be more +esteemed. I have resisted and conquered. I am sorry I do not share in +the opinion of your favourite. + +LYRA: Mine? + +ASTRAEA: You spoke warmly of him. + +LYRA: Warmly, was it? + +ASTRAEA: You are not blamed, my dear: he has a winning manner. + +LYRA: I take him to be a manly young fellow, smart enough; handsome too. + +ASTRAEA: Oh, he has good looks. + +LYRA: And a head, by repute. + +ASTRAEA: For the world's work, yes. + +LYRA: Not romantic. + +ASTRAEA: Romantic ideas are for dreamy simperers. + +LYRA: Amazons repudiate them. + +ASTRAEA: Laugh at me. Half my time I am laughing at myself. I should +regain my pride if I could be resolved on a step. I am strong to resist; +I have not strength to move. + +LYRA: I see the sphinx of Egypt! + +ASTRAEA: And all the while I am a manufactory of gunpowder in this quiet +old-world Sabbath circle of dear good souls, with their stereotyped +interjections, and orchestra of enthusiasms; their tapering delicacies: +the rejoicing they have in their common agreement on all created things. +To them it is restful. It spurs me to fly from rooms and chairs and beds +and houses. I sleep hardly a couple of hours. Then into the early +morning air, out with the birds; I know no other pleasure. + +LYRA: Hospital work for a variation: civil or military. The former +involves the house-surgeon: the latter the grateful lieutenant. + +ASTRAEA: Not if a woman can resist . . . I go to it proof-armoured. + +LYRA: What does the Dame say? + +ASTRAEA: Sighs over me! Just a little maddening to hear. + +LYRA: When we feel we have the strength of giants, and are bidden to sit +and smile! You should rap out some of our old sweet-innocent garden +oaths with her--'Carnation! Dame!' That used to make her dance on her +seat.--'But, dearest Dame, it is as natural an impulse for women to have +that relief as for men; and natural will out, begonia! it will!' We ran +through the book of Botany for devilish objurgations. I do believe our +misconduct caused us to be handed to the good man at the altar as the +right corrective. And you were the worst offender. + +ASTRAEA: Was I? I could be now, though I am so changed a creature. + +LYRA: You enjoy the studies with your Spiral, come! + +ASTRAEA: Professor Spiral is the one honest gentleman here. He does +homage to my principles. I have never been troubled by him: no silly +hints or side-looks--you know, the dog at the forbidden bone. + +LYRA: A grand orator. + +ASTRAEA: He is. You fix on the smallest of his gifts. He is +intellectually and morally superior. + +LYRA: Praise of that kind makes me rather incline to prefer his +inferiors. He fed gobble-gobble on your puffs of incense. I coughed +and scraped the gravel; quite in vain; he tapped for more and more. + +ASTRAEA: Professor Spiral is a thinker; he is a sage. He gives women +their due. + +LYRA: And he is a bachelor too--or consequently. + +ASTRAEA: If you like you may be as playful with me as the Lyra of our +maiden days used to be. My dear, my dear, how glad I am to have you +here! You remind me that I once had a heart. It will beat again with +you beside me, and I shall look to you for protection. A novel request +from me. From annoyance, I mean. It has entirely altered my character. +Sometimes I am afraid to think of what I was, lest I should suddenly +romp, and perform pirouettes and cry 'Carnation!' There is the bell. +We must not be late when the professor condescends to sit for meals. + +LYRA: That rings healthily in the professor. + +ASTRAEA: Arm in arm, my Lyra. + +LYRA: No Pluriel yet! + + (They enter the house, and the time changes to evening of the same + day. The scene is still the garden.) + + + + SCENE VI + + ASTRAEA, ARDEN + +ASTRAEA: Pardon me if I do not hear you well. + +ARDEN: I will not even think you barbarous. + +ASTRAEA: I am. I am the object of the chase. + +ARDEN: The huntsman draws the wood, then, and not you. + +ASTRAEA: + At any instant I am forced to run, + Or turn in my defence: how can I be + Other than barbarous? You are the cause. + +ARDEN: No: heaven that made you beautiful's the cause. + +ASTRAEA: + Say, earth, that gave you instincts. Bring me down + To instincts! When by chance I speak awhile + With our professor, you appear in haste, + Full cry to sight again the missing hare. + Away ideas! All that's divinest flies! + I have to bear in mind how young you are. + +ARDEN: + You have only to look up to me four years, + Instead of forty! + +ASTRAEA: Sir? + + + +ARDEN + There's my misfortune! + And worse that, young, I love as a young man. + Could I but quench the fire, I might conceal + The youthfulness offending you so much. + +ASTRAEA: I wish you would. I wish it earnestly. + +ARDEN: Impossible. I burn. + +ASTRAEA: You should not burn. + +ARDEN + 'Tis more than I. 'Tis fire. It masters will. + You would not say I should not' if you knew fire. + It seizes. It devours. + +ASTRAEA: Dry wood. + +ARDEN: + Cold wit! + How cold you can be! But be cold, for sweet + You must be. And your eyes are mine: with them + I see myself: unworthy to usurp + The place I hold a moment. While I look + I have my happiness. + +ASTRAEA: You should look higher. + +ARDEN: + Through you to the highest. Only through you! + Through you + The mark I may attain is visible, + And I have strength to dream of winning it. + You are the bow that speeds the arrow: you + The glass that brings the distance nigh. My world + Is luminous through you, pure heavenly, + But hangs upon the rose's outer leaf, + Not next her heart. Astraea! my own beloved! + +ASTRAEA: We may be excellent friends. And I have faults. + +ARDEN: Name them: I am hungering for more to love. + +ASTRAEA: + I waver very constantly: I have + No fixity of feeling or of sight. + I have no courage: I can often dream + Of daring: when I wake I am in dread. + I am inconstant as a butterfly, + And shallow as a brook with little fish! + Strange little fish, that tempt the small boy's net, + But at a touch straight dive! I am any one's, + And no one's! I am vain. + Praise of my beauty lodges in my ears. + The lark reels up with it; the nightingale + Sobs bleeding; the flowers nod; I could believe + A poet, though he praised me to my face. + +ARDEN: + Never had poet so divine a fount + To drink of! + +ASTRAEA: + Have I given you more to love + +ARDEN: + More! You have given me your inner mind, + Where conscience in the robes of Justice shoots + Light so serenely keen that in such light + Fair infants, I newly criminal of earth,' + As your friend Osier says, might show some blot. + Seraphs might! More to love? Oh! these dear faults + Lead you to me like troops of laughing girls + With garlands. All the fear is, that you trifle, + Feigning them. + +ASTRAEA: + For what purpose? + +ARDEN: + Can I guess? + +ASTRAEA: + + I think 'tis you who have the trifler's note. + My hearing is acute, and when you speak, + Two voices ring, though you speak fervidly. + Your Osier quotation jars. Beware! + Why were you absent from our meeting-place + This morning? + + +. + +ARDEN: + I was on the way, and met + Your uncle Homeware + +ASTRAEA: Ah! + +ARDEN: He loves you. + +ASTRAEA: + He loves me: he has never understood. + He loves me as a creature of the flock; + A little whiter than some others. + Yes; He loves me, as men love; not to uplift; + Not to have faith in; not to spiritualize. + For him I am a woman and a widow + One of the flock, unmarked save by a brand. + He said it!--You confess it! You have learnt + To share his error, erring fatally. + +ARDEN: By whose advice went I to him? + +ASTRAEA: + By whose? + Pursuit that seemed incessant: persecution. + Besides, I have changed since then: I change; I change; + It is too true I change. I could esteem + You better did you change. And had you heard + The noble words this morning from the mouth + Of our professor, changed were you, or raised + Above love-thoughts, love-talk, and flame and flutter, + High as eternal snows. What said he else, + My uncle Homeware? + +ARDEN: + That you were not free: + And that he counselled us to use our wits. + +ASTRAEA: + But I am free I free to be ever free! + My freedom keeps me free! He counselled us? + I am not one in a conspiracy. + I scheme no discord with my present life. + Who does, I cannot look on as my friend. + Not free? You know me little. Were I chained, + For liberty I would sell liberty + To him who helped me to an hour's release. + But having perfect freedom . . . + +ARDEN: No. + +ASTRAEA: + Good sir, + You check me? + +ARDEN: Perfect freedom? + +ASTRAEA: Perfect! + +ARDEN: No! + +ASTRAEA: Am I awake? What blinds me? + +ARDEN: + Filaments + The slenderest ever woven about a brain + From the brain's mists, by the little sprite called + Fancy. + A breath would scatter them; but that one breath + Must come of animation. When the heart + Is as, a frozen sea the brain spins webs. + +ASTRAEA: + 'Tis very singular! + I understand. + You translate cleverly. I hear in verse + My uncle Homeware's prose. He has these notions. + Old men presume to read us. + +ARDEN: + Young men may. + You gaze on an ideal reflecting you + Need I say beautiful? Yet it reflects + Less beauty than the lady whom I love + Breathes, radiates. Look on yourself in me. + What harm in gazing? You are this flower + You are that spirit. But the spirit fed + With substance of the flower takes all its bloom! + And where in spirits is the bloom of the flower? + +ASTRAEA: + 'Tis very singular. You have a tone + Quite changed. + +ARDEN: + You wished a change. To show you, how + I read you . . . + +ASTRAEA: + Oh! no, no. It means dissection. + I never heard of reading character + That did not mean dissection. Spare me that. + I am wilful, violent, capricious, weak, + Wound in a web of my own spinning-wheel, + A star-gazer, a riband in the wind . . . + +ARDEN: + A banner in the wind! and me you lead, + And shall! At least, I follow till I win. + +ASTRAEA: + Forbear, I do beseech you. + +ARDEN: + I have had + Your hand in mine. + +ASTRAEA: + Once. + +ARDEN: + Once! + Once! 'twas; once, was the heart alive, + Leaping to break the ice. Oh! once, was aye + That laughed at frosty May like spring's return. + Say you are terrorized: you dare not melt. + You like me; you might love me; but to dare, + Tasks more than courage. Veneration, friends, + Self-worship, which is often self-distrust, + Bar the good way to you, and make a dream + A fortress and a prison. + +ASTRAEA: + Changed! you have changed + Indeed. When you so boldly seized my hand + It seemed a boyish freak, done boyishly. + I wondered at Professor Spiral's choice + Of you for an example, and our hope. + Now you grow dangerous. You must have thought, + And some things true you speak-save 'terrorized.' + It may be flattering to sweet self-love + To deem me terrorized.--'Tis my own soul, + My heart, my mind, all that I hold most sacred, + Not fear of others, bids me walk aloof. + Who terrorizes me? Who could? Friends? Never! + The world? as little. Terrorized! + +ARDEN: + Forgive me. + +ASTRAEA: + I might reply, Respect me. If I loved, + If I could be so faithless as to love, + Think you I would not rather noise abroad + My shame for penitence than let friends dwell + Deluded by an image of one vowed + To superhuman, who the common mock + Of things too human has at heart become. + +ARDEN: + You would declare your love? + +ASTRAEA: + I said, my shame. + The woman that's the widow is ensnared, + Caught in the toils! away with widows!--Oh! + I hear men shouting it. + +ARDEN: + But shame there's none + For me in loving: therefore I may take + Your friends to witness? tell them that my pride + Is in the love of you? + +ASTRAEA: + 'Twill soon bring + The silence that should be between us two, + And sooner give me peace. + +ARDEN: + And you consent? + +ASTRAEA: + For the sake of peace and silence I consent, + You should be warned that you will cruelly + Disturb them. But 'tis best. You should be warned + Your pleading will be hopeless. But 'tis best. + You have my full consent. Weigh well your acts, + You cannot rest where you have cast this bolt + Lay that to heart, and you are cherished, prized, + Among them: they are estimable ladies, + Warmest of friends; though you may think they soar + Too loftily for your measure of strict sense + (And as my uncle Homeware's pupil, sir, + In worldliness, you do), just minds they have: + Once know them, and your banishment will fret. + I would not run such risks. You will offend, + Go near to outrage them; and perturbate + As they have not deserved of you. But I, + Considering I am nothing in the scales + You balance, quite and of necessity + Consent. When you have weighed it, let me hear. + My uncle Homeware steps this way in haste. + We have been talking long, and in full view ! + + + + SCENE VII + + ASTRAEA, ARDEN, HOMEWARE + +HOMEWARE: + Astraea, child! You, Arden, stand aside. + Ay, if she were a maid you might speak first, + But being a widow she must find her tongue. + Astraea, they await you. State the fact + As soon as you are questioned, fearlessly. + Open the battle with artillery. + +ASTRAEA: + What is the matter, uncle Homeware? + +HOMEWARE (playing fox): + What? + Why, we have watched your nice preliminaries + From the windows half the evening. Now run in. + Their patience has run out, and, as I said, + Unlimber and deliver fire at once. + Your aunts Virginia and Winifred, + With Lady Oldlace, are the senators, + The Dame for Dogs. They wear terrific brows, + But be not you affrighted, my sweet chick, + And tell them uncle Homeware backs your choice, + By lawyer and by priests! by altar, fount, + And testament! + +ASTRAEA: + My choice! what have I chosen? + +HOMEWARE: + She asks? You hear her, Arden?--what and whom! + +ARDEN: + Surely, sir! . . . heavens! have you . . . + +HOMEWARE: + Surely the old fox, + In all I have read, is wiser than the young: + And if there is a game for fox to play, + Old fox plays cunningest. + +ASTRAEA: + Why fox? Oh! uncle, + You make my heart beat with your mystery; + I never did love riddles. Why sit they + Awaiting me, and looking terrible? + +HOMEWARE: + It is reported of an ancient folk + Which worshipped idols, that upon a day + Their idol pitched before them on the floor + +ASTRAEA: + Was ever so ridiculous a tale! + +HOMEWARE + To call the attendant fires to account + Their elders forthwith sat . . . + +ASTRAEA: + Is there no prayer + Will move you, uncle Homeware? + +HOMEWARE: + God-daughter, + This gentleman for you I have proposed + As husband. + +ASTRAEA: + Arden! we are lost. + +ARDEN: + Astraea! + Support him! Though I knew not his design, + It plants me in mid-heaven. Would it were + Not you, but I to bear the shock. My love! + We lost, you cry; you join me with you lost! + The truth leaps from your heart: and let it shine + To light us on our brilliant battle day + And victory + +ASTRAEA: + Who betrayed me! + +HOMEWARE: + Who betrayed? + Your voice, your eyes, your veil, your knife and fork; + Your tenfold worship of your widowhood; + As he who sees he must yield up the flag, + Hugs it oath-swearingly! straw-drowningly. + To be reasonable: you sent this gentleman + Referring him to me . . . . + +ASTRAEA: + And that is false. + All's false. You have conspired. I am disgraced. + But you will learn you have judged erroneously. + I am not the frail creature you conceive. + Between your vision of life's aim, and theirs + Who presently will question me, I cling + To theirs as light: and yours I deem a den + Where souls can have no growth. + +HOMEWARE: + But when we touched + The point of hand-pressings, 'twas rightly time + To think of wedding ties? + +ASTRAEA: + Arden, adieu! + + (She rushes into house.) + + + + SCENE VIII + + ARDEN, HOMEWARE + + +ARDEN: + Adieu! she said. With her that word is final. + +HOMEWARE: + Strange! how young people blowing words like clouds + On winds, now fair, now foul, and as they please + Should still attach the Fates to them. + +ARDEN: + She's wounded + Wounded to the quick! + +HOMEWARE: + The quicker our success: for short + Of that, these dames, who feel for everything, + Feel nothing. + +ARDEN: + Your intention has been kind, + Dear sir, but you have ruined me. + +HOMEWARE: + Good-night. (Going.) + +ARDEN: + Yet she said, we are lost, in her surprise. + +HOMEWARE: + Good morning. (Returning.) + +ARDEN: + I suppose that I am bound + (If I could see for what I should be glad!) + To thank you, sir. + +HOMEWARE: + Look hard but give no thanks. + I found my girl descending on the road + Of breakneck coquetry, and barred her way. + Either she leaps the bar, or she must back. + That means she marries you, or says good-bye. + (Going again.) + +ARDEN: + Now she's among them. (Looking at window.) + +HOMEWARE: + Now she sees her mind. + +ARDEN: + It is my destiny she now decides! + +HOMEWARE: + There's now suspense on earth and round the spheres. + +ARDEN: + She's mine now: mine! or I am doomed to go. + +HOMEWARE: + The marriage ring, or the portmanteau now! + +ARDEN: + Laugh as you like, air! I am not ashamed + To love and own it. + +HOMEWARE: + So the symptoms show. + Rightly, young man, and proving a good breed. + To further it's a duty to mankind + And I have lent my push, But recollect: + Old Ilion was not conquered in a day. + (He enters house.) + +ARDEN: + Ten years! If I may win her at the end! + + + CURTAIN + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A great oration may be a sedative +A male devotee is within an inch of a miracle +Above Nature, I tell him, or, we shall be very much below +As in all great oratory! The key of it is the pathos +Back from the altar to discover that she has chained herself +Cupid clipped of wing is a destructive parasite +Excess of a merit is a capital offence in morality +His idea of marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody +I am a discordant instrument I do not readily vibrate +I like him, I like him, of course, but I want to breathe +I who respect the state of marriage by refusing +Love and war have been compared--Both require strategy +Peace, I do pray, for the husband-haunted wife +Period of his life a man becomes too voraciously constant +Pitiful conceit in men +Rejoicing they have in their common agreement +Self-worship, which is often self-distrust +Suspects all young men and most young women +Their idol pitched before them on the floor +Were I chained, For liberty I would sell liberty +Woman descending from her ideal to the gross reality of man +Your devotion craves an enormous exchange + + +[The End] + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4497 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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We need your donations. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3) +organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541 +Find out about how to make a donation at the bottom of this file. + + + +Title: The Sentimentalists (Play) + +Author: George Meredith + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +Release Date: September, 2003 [Etext #4497] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on March 5, 2002] + + +The Project Gutenberg Etext The Sentimentalists (Play) by Meredith +*******This file should be named 4497.txt or 4497.zip******* + + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep etexts in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +The "legal small print" and other information about this book +may now be found at the end of this file. Please read this +important information, as it gives you specific rights and +tells you about restrictions in how the file may be used. + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + +[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the +file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an +entire meal of them. D.W.] + + + + +THE SENTIMENTALISTS + +An Unfinished Comedy + +By George Meredith + + + + + DRAMATIS PERSONAE + +HOMEWARE. + +PROFESSOR SPIRAL. + +ARDEN,............. In love with Astraea. + +SWITHIN,........... Sympathetics. +OSIER, + +DAME DRESDEN,...... Sister to Homeware. + +ASTRAEA,........... Niece to Dame Dresden and Homeware. + +LYRA,.............. A Wife. + +LADY OLDLACE. + +VIRGINIA. + +WINIFRED. + + + + THE SENTIMENTALISTS + + AN UNFINISHED COMEDY + + +The scene is a Surrey garden in early summer. The paths are shaded by +tall box-wood hedges. The--time is some sixty years ago. + + + SCENE I + + PROFESSOR SPIRAL, DAME DRESDEN, LADY OLDLACE, + VIRGINIA, WINIFRED, SWITHIN, and OSIER + +(As they slowly promenade the garden, the professor is delivering one of +his exquisite orations on Woman.) + +SPIRAL: One husband! The woman consenting to marriage takes but one. +For her there is no widowhood. That punctuation of the sentence called +death is not the end of the chapter for her. It is the brilliant proof +of her having a soul. So she exalts her sex. Above the wrangle and +clamour of the passions she is a fixed star. After once recording her +obedience to the laws of our common nature--that is to say, by descending +once to wedlock--she passes on in sovereign disengagement--a dedicated +widow. + + (By this time they have disappeared from view. HOMEWARE appears; + he craftily avoids joining their party, like one who is unworthy of + such noble oratory. He desires privacy and a book, but is disturbed + by the arrival of ARDEN, who is painfully anxious to be polite to + 'her uncle Homeware.') + + + + SCENE II + + HOMEWARE, ARDEN + +ARDEN: A glorious morning, sir. + +HOMEWARE: The sun is out, sir. + +ARDEN: I am happy in meeting you, Mr. Homeware. + +HOMEWARE: I can direct you to the ladies, Mr. Arden. You will find them +up yonder avenue. + +ARDEN: They are listening, I believe, to an oration from the mouth of +Professor Spiral. + +HOMEWARE: On an Alpine flower which has descended to flourish on English +soil. Professor Spiral calls it Nature's 'dedicated widow.' + +ARDEN: 'Dedicated widow'? + +HOMEWARE: The reference you will observe is to my niece Astraea. + +ARDEN: She is dedicated to whom? + +HOMEWARE: To her dead husband! You see the reverse of Astraea, says the +professor, in those world-infamous widows who marry again. + +ARDEN: Bah! + +HOMEWARE: Astraea, it is decided, must remain solitary, virgin cold, +like the little Alpine flower. Professor Spiral has his theme. + +ARDEN: He will make much of it. May I venture to say that I prefer my +present company? + +HOMEWARE: It is a singular choice. I can supply you with no weapons for +the sort of stride in which young men are usually engaged. You belong to +the camp you are avoiding. + +ARDEN: Achilles was not the worse warrior, sir, for his probation in +petticoats. + +HOMEWARE: His deeds proclaim it. But Alexander was the better chieftain +until he drank with Lais. + +ARDEN: No, I do not plead guilty to Bacchus. + +HOMEWARE: You are confessing to the madder form of drunkenness. + +ARDEN: How, sir, I beg? + +HOMEWARE: How, when a young man sees the index to himself in everything +spoken! + +ARDEN: That might have the look. I did rightly in coming to you, sir. + +HOMEWARE: 'Her uncle Homeware'? + +ARDEN: You read through us all, sir. + +HOMEWARE: It may interest you to learn that you are the third of the +gentlemen commissioned to consult the lady's uncle Homeware. + +ARDEN: The third. + +HOMEWARE: Yes, she is pursued. It could hardly be otherwise. Her +attractions are acknowledged, and the house is not a convent. Yet, Mr. +Arden, I must remind you that all of you are upon an enterprise held to +be profane by the laws of this region. Can you again forget that Astraea +is a widow? + +ARDEN: She was a wife two months; she has been a widow two years. + +HOMEWARE: The widow of the great and venerable Professor Towers is not +to measure her widowhood by years. His, from the altar to the tomb. As +it might be read, a one day's walk! + +ARDEN: Is she, in the pride of her youth, to be sacrificed to a +whimsical feminine delicacy? + +HOMEWARE: You have argued it with her? + +ARDEN: I have presumed. + +HOMEWARE: And still she refused her hand! + +ARDEN: She commended me to you, sir. She has a sound judgement of +persons. + +HOMEWARE: I should put it that she passes the Commissioners of Lunacy, +on the ground of her being a humorous damsel. Your predecessors had also +argued it with her; and they, too, discovered their enemy in a whimsical +feminine delicacy. Where is the difference between you? Evidently she +cannot perceive it, and I have to seek: You will have had many +conversations with Astraea? + +ARDEN: I can say, that I am thrice the man I was before I had them. + +HOMEWARE: You have gained in manhood from conversations with a widow in +her twenty-second year; and you want more of her. + +ARDEN: As much as I want more wisdom. + +HOMEWARE: You would call her your Muse? + +ARDEN: So prosaic a creature as I would not dare to call her that. + +HOMEWARE: You have the timely mantle of modesty, Mr. Arden. She has +prepared you for some of the tests with her uncle Homeware. + +ARDEN: She warned me to be myself, without a spice of affectation. + +HOMEWARE: No harder task could be set a young man in modern days. Oh, +the humorous damsel. You sketch me the dimple at her mouth. + +ARDEN: Frankly, sir, I wish you to know me better; and I think I can +bear inspection. Astraea sent me to hear the reasons why she refuses me +a hearing. + +HOMEWARE: Her reason, I repeat, is this; to her idea, a second wedlock +is unholy. Further, it passes me to explain. The young lady lands us +where we were at the beginning; such must have been her humorous +intention. + +ARDEN: What can I do? + +HOMEWARE: Love and war have been compared. Both require strategy and +tactics, according to my recollection of the campaign. + +ARDEN: I will take to heart what you say, sir. + +HOMEWARE: Take it to head. There must be occasional descent of lovers' +heads from the clouds. And Professor Spiral,--But here we have a belated +breeze of skirts. + + (The reference is to the arrival of LYRA, breathless.) + + + + SCENE III + + HOMEWARE, ARDEN, LYRA + + +LYRA: My own dear uncle Homeware! + +HOMEWARE: But where is Pluriel? + +LYRA: Where is a woman's husband when she is away from him? + +HOMEWARE: In Purgatory, by the proper reckoning. But hurry up the +avenue, or you will be late for Professor Spiral's address. + +LYRA: I know it all without hearing. Their Spiral! Ah, Mr. Arden! You +have not chosen badly. The greater my experience, the more do I value my +uncle Homeware's company. + + (She is affectionate to excess but has a roguish eye withal, as of + one who knows that uncle Homeware suspects all young men and most + young women.) + +HOMEWARE: Agree with the lady promptly, my friend. + +ARDEN: I would gladly boast of so lengthened an experience, Lady +Pluriel. + +LYRA: I must have a talk with Astraea, my dear uncle. Her letters breed +suspicions. She writes feverishly. The last one hints at service on the +West Coast of Africa. + +HOMEWARE: For the draining of a pestiferous land, or an enlightenment of +the benighted black, we could not despatch a missionary more effective +than the handsomest widow in Great Britain. + +LYRA: Have you not seen signs of disturbance? + +HOMEWARE: A great oration may be a sedative. + + +LYRA: I have my suspicions. + +HOMEWARE: Mr. Arden, I could counsel you to throw yourself at Lady +Pluriel's feet, and institute her as your confessional priest. + +ARDEN: Madam, I am at your feet. I am devoted to the lady. + +LYRA: Devoted. There cannot be an objection. It signifies that a man +asks for nothing in return! + +HOMEWARE: Have a thought upon your words with this lady, Mr. Arden! + +ARDEN: Devoted, I said. I am. I would give my life for her. + +LYRA: Expecting it to be taken to-morrow or next day? Accept my +encomiums. A male devotee is within an inch of a miracle. Women had +been looking for this model for ages, uncle. + +HOMEWARE: You are the model, Mr Arden! + +LYRA: Can you have intended to say that it is in view of marriage you +are devoted to the widow of Professor Towers? + +ARDEN: My one view. + +LYRA: It is a star you are beseeching to descend. + +ARDEN: It is. + +LYRA: You disappoint me hugely. You are of the ordinary tribe after +all; and your devotion craves an enormous exchange, infinitely surpassing +the amount you bestow. + +ARDEN: It does. She is rich in gifts; I am poor. But I give all I +have. + +LYRA: These lovers, uncle Homeware! + +HOMEWARE: A honey-bag is hung up and we have them about us. They would +persuade us that the chief business of the world is a march to the altar. + +ARDEN: With the right partner, if the business of the world is to be +better done. + +LYRA: Which right partner has been chosen on her part, by a veiled +woman, who marches back from the altar to discover that she has chained +herself to the skeleton of an idea, or is in charge of that devouring +tyrant, an uxorious husband. Is Mr. Arden in favour with the Dame, +uncle? + +HOMEWARE: My sister is an unsuspicious potentate, as you know. +Pretenders to the hand of an inviolate widow bite like waves at a rock. + +LYRA: Professor Spiral advances rapidly. + +HOMEWARE: Not, it would appear, when he has his audience of ladies and +their satellites. + +LYRA: I am sure I hear a spring-tide of enthusiasm coming. + +ARDEN: I will see. + + (He goes up the path.) + +LYRA: Now! my own dear uncle, save me from Pluriel. I have given him +the slip in sheer desperation; but the man is at his shrewdest when he is +left to guess at my heels. Tell him I am anywhere but here. Tell him I +ran away to get a sense of freshness in seeing him again. Let me have +one day of liberty, or, upon my word, I shall do deeds; I shall console +young Arden: I shall fly to Paris and set my cap at presidents and +foreign princes. Anything rather than be eaten up every minute, as I am. +May no woman of my acquaintance marry a man of twenty years her senior! +She marries a gigantic limpet. At that period of his life a man becomes +too voraciously constant. + +HOMEWARE: Cupid clipped of wing is a destructive parasite. + +LYRA: I am in dead earnest, uncle, and I will have a respite, or else +let decorum beware! + + (Arden returns.) + +ARDEN: The ladies are on their way. + +LYRA: I must get Astraea to myself. + +HOMEWARE: My library is a virgin fortress, Mr. Arden. Its gates are +open to you on other topics than the coupling of inebriates. + + (He enters the house--LYRA disappears in the garden--Spiral's + audience reappear without him.) + + + + SCENE IV + + DAME DRESDEN, LADY OLDLACE, VIRGINIA, WINIFRED, + ARDEN, SWITHIN, OSIER + + +LADY OLDLACE: Such perfect rhythm! + +WINIFRED: Such oratory! + +LADY OLDLACE: A master hand. I was in a trance from the first sentence +to the impressive close. + +OSIER: Such oratory is a whole orchestral symphony. + +VIRGINIA: Such command of intonation and subject! + +SWITHIN: That resonant voice! + +LADY OLDLACE: Swithin, his flow of eloquence! He launched forth! + +SWITHIN: Like an eagle from a cliff. + +OSIER: The measure of the words was like a beat of wings. + +SWITHIN: He makes poets of us. + +DAME DRESDEN: Spiral achieved his pinnacle to-day! + +VIRGINIA: How treacherous is our memory when we have most the longing to +recall great sayings! + +OSIER: True, I conceive that my notes will be precious. + +WINIFRED: You could take notes! + +LADY OLDLACE: It seems a device for missing the quintessential. + +SWITHIN: Scraps of the body to the loss of the soul of it. We can allow +that our friend performed good menial service. + +WINIFRED: I could not have done the thing. + +SWITHIN: In truth; it does remind one of the mess of pottage. + +LADY OLDLACE: One hardly felt one breathed. + +VIRGINIA: I confess it moved me to tears. + +SWITHIN: There is a pathos for us in the display of perfection. Such +subtle contrast with our individual poverty affects us. + +WINIFRED: Surely there were passages of a distinct and most exquisite +pathos. + +LADY OLDLACE: As in all great oratory! The key of it is the pathos. + +VIRGINIA: In great oratory, great poetry, great fiction; you try it by +the pathos. All our critics agree in stipulating for the pathos. My +tears were no feminine weakness, I could not be a discordant instrument. + +SWITHIN: I must make confession. He played on me too. + +OSIER: We shall be sensible for long of that vibration from the touch of +a master hand. + +ARDEN: An accomplished player can make a toy-shop fiddle sound you a +Stradivarius. + +DAME DRESDEN: Have you a right to a remark, Mr. Arden? What could have +detained you? + +ARDEN: Ah, Dame. It may have been a warning that I am a discordant +instrument. I do not readily vibrate. + +DAME DRESDEN: A discordant instrument is out of place in any civil +society. You have lost what cannot be recovered. + +ARDEN: There are the notes. + +OSIER: Yes, the notes. + +SWITHIN: You can be satisfied with the dog's feast at the table, Mr. +Arden! + +OSIER: Ha! + +VIRGINIA: Never have I seen Astraea look sublimer in her beauty than +with her eyes uplifted to the impassioned speaker, reflecting every +variation of his tones. + +ARDEN: Astraea! + +LADY OLDLACE: She was entranced when he spoke of woman descending from +her ideal to the gross reality of man. + +OSIER: Yes, yes. I have the words [reads]: 'Woman is to the front of +man, holding the vestal flower of a purer civilization. I see,' he says. +'the little taper in her hands transparent round the light, against rough +winds.' + +DAME DRESDEN: And of Astraea herself, what were the words? 'Nature's +dedicated widow.' + +SWITHIN: Vestal widow, was it not? + +VIRGINIA: Maiden widow, I think. + +DAME DRESDEN: We decide for 'dedicated.' + +WINIFRED: Spiral paid his most happy tribute to the memory of her late +husband, the renowned Professor Towers. + +VIRGINIA: But his look was at dear Astraea. + +ARDEN: At Astraea? Why? + +VIRGINIA: For her sanction doubtless. + +ARDEN: Ha! + +WINIFRED: He said his pride would ever be in his being received as the +successor of Professor Towers. + +ARDEN: Successor! + +SWITHIN: Guardian was it not? + +OSIER: Tutor. I think he said. + + (The three gentlemen consult Osier's notes uneasily.) + +DAME DRESDEN: Our professor must by this time have received in full +Astraea's congratulations, and Lyra is hearing from her what it is to be +too late. You will join us at the luncheon table, if you do not feel +yourself a discordant instrument there, Mr. Arden? + +ARDEN (going to her): The allusion to knife and fork tunes my strings +instantly, Dame. + +DAME DRESDEN: You must help me to-day, for the professor will be tired, +though we dare not hint at it in his presence. No reference, ladies, to +the great speech we have been privileged to hear; we have expressed our +appreciation and he could hardly bear it. + +ARDEN: Nothing is more distasteful to the orator! + +VIRGINIA: As with every true genius, he is driven to feel humbly human +by the exultation of him. + +SWITHIN: He breathes in a rarified air. + +OSIER: I was thrilled, I caught at passing beauties. I see that here +and there I have jotted down incoherencies, lines have seduced me, so +that I missed the sequence--the precious part. Ladies, permit me to rank +him with Plato as to the equality of women and men. + +WINIFRED: It is nobly said. + +OSIER: And with the Stoics, in regard to celibacy. + + (By this time all the ladies have gone into the house.) + +ARDEN: Successor! Was the word successor? + + (ARDEN, SWITHIN, and OSIER are excitedly searching the notes when + SPIRAL passes and strolls into the house. His air of self- + satisfaction increases their uneasiness they follow him. ASTRAEA + and LYRA come down the path.) + + + + SCENE V + + ASTRAEA, LYRA + + +LYRA: Oh! Pluriel, ask me of him! I wish I were less sure he would not +be at the next corner I turn. + +ASTRAEA: You speak of your husband strangely, Lyra. + +LYRA: My head is out of a sack. I managed my escape from him this +morning by renouncing bath and breakfast; and what a relief, to be in the +railway carriage alone! that is, when the engine snorted. And if I set +eyes on him within a week, he will hear some truths. His idea of +marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody. My hat is on, and on +goes Pluriel's. My foot on the stairs; I hear his boot behind me. In my +boudoir I am alone one minute, and then the door opens to the inevitable. +I pay a visit, he is passing the house as I leave it. He will not even +affect surprise. I belong to him, I am cat's mouse. And he will look +doating on me in public. And when I speak to anybody, he is that fearful +picture of all smirks. Fling off a kid glove after a round of calls; +feel your hand--there you have me now that I am out of him for my half a +day, if for as long. + +ASTRAEA: This is one of the world's happy marriages! + +LYRA: This is one of the world's choice dishes! And I have it planted +under my nostrils eternally. Spare me the mention of Pluriel until he +appears; that's too certain this very day. Oh! good husband! good kind +of man! whatever you please; only some peace, I do pray, for the husband- +haunted wife. I like him, I like him, of course, but I want to breathe. +Why, an English boy perpetually bowled by a Christmas pudding would come +to loathe the mess. + +ASTRAEA: His is surely the excess of a merit. + +LYRA: Excess is a poison. Excess of a merit is a capital offence in +morality. It disgusts, us with virtue. And you are the cunningest of +fencers, tongue, or foils. You lead me to talk of myself, and I hate the +subject. By the way, you have practised with Mr. Arden. + +ASTRAEA: A tiresome instructor, who lets you pass his guard to +compliment you on a hit. + +LYRA: He rather wins me. + +ASTRAEA: He does at first. + +LYRA: Begins Plurielizing, without the law to back him, does he? + +ASTRAEA: The fencing lessons are at an end. + +LYRA: The duetts with Mr. Swithin's violoncello continue? + +ASTRAEA: He broke through the melody. + +LYRA: There were readings in poetry with Mr. Osier, I recollect. + +ASTRAEA: His own compositions became obtrusive. + +LYRA: No fencing, no music, no poetry! no West Coast of Africa either, +I suppose. + +ASTRAEA: Very well! I am on my defence. You at least shall not +misunderstand me, Lyra. One intense regret I have; that I did not live +in the time of the Amazons. They were free from this question of +marriage; this babble of love. Why am I so persecuted? He will not take +a refusal. There are sacred reasons. I am supported by every woman +having the sense of her dignity. I am perverted, burlesqued by the fury +of wrath I feel at their incessant pursuit. And I despise Mr. Osier and +Mr. Swithin because they have an air of pious agreement with the Dame, +and are conspirators behind their mask. + +LYRA: False, false men! + +ASTRAEA: They come to me. I am complimented on being the vulnerable +spot. + +LYRA: The object desired is usually addressed by suitors, my poor +Astraea! + +ASTRAEA: With the assumption, that as I am feminine I must necessarily +be in the folds of the horrible constrictor they call Love, and that I +leap to the thoughts of their debasing marriage. + +LYRA: One of them goes to Mr. Homeware. + +ASTRAEA: All are sent to him in turn. He can dispose of them. + +LYRA: Now that is really masterly fun, my dear; most creditable to you! +Love, marriage, a troop of suitors, and uncle Homeware. No, it would not +have occurred to me, and--I am considered to have some humour. Of +course, he disposes of them. He seemed to have a fairly favourable +opinion of Mr. Arden. + +ASTRAEA: I do not share it. He is the least respectful of the +sentiments entertained by me. Pray, spare me the mention of him, as you +say of your husband. He has that pitiful conceit in men, which sets them +thinking that a woman must needs be susceptible to the declaration of the +mere existence of their passion. He is past argument. Impossible for +him to conceive a woman's having a mind above the conditions of her sex. +A woman, according to him, can have no ideal of life, except as a ball to +toss in the air and catch in a cup. Put him aside. . . . We creatures +are doomed to marriage, and if we shun it, we are a kind of cripple. +He is grossly earthy in his view of us. We are unable to move a step +in thought or act unless we submit to have a husband. That is his +reasoning. Nature! Nature! I have to hear of Nature! We must be above +Nature, I tell him, or, we shall be very much below. He is ranked among +our clever young men; and he can be amusing. So far he passes muster; +and he has a pleasant voice. I dare say he is an uncle Homeware's good +sort of boy. Girls like him. Why does he not fix his attention upon one +of them; Why upon me? We waste our time in talking of him . . . . +The secret of it is, that he has no reverence. The marriage he vaunts is +a mere convenient arrangement for two to live together under command of +nature. Reverence for the state of marriage is unknown to him. How +explain my feeling? I am driven into silence. Cease to speak of him +. . . . He is the dupe of his eloquence--his passion, he calls it. +I have only to trust myself to him, and--I shall be one of the world's +married women! Words are useless. How am I to make him see that it is +I who respect the state of marriage by refusing; not he by perpetually +soliciting. Once married, married for ever. Widow is but a term. When +women hold their own against him, as I have done, they will be more +esteemed. I have resisted and conquered. I am sorry I do not share in +the opinion of your favourite. + +LYRA: Mine? + +ASTRAEA: You spoke warmly of him. + +LYRA: Warmly, was it? + +ASTRAEA: You are not blamed, my dear: he has a winning manner. + +LYRA: I take him to be a manly young fellow, smart enough; handsome too. + +ASTRAEA: Oh, he has good looks. + +LYRA: And a head, by repute. + +ASTRAEA: For the world's work, yes. + +LYRA: Not romantic. + +ASTRAEA: Romantic ideas are for dreamy simperers. + +LYRA: Amazons repudiate them. + +ASTRAEA: Laugh at me. Half my time I am laughing at myself. I should +regain my pride if I could be resolved on a step. I am strong to resist; +I have not strength to move. + +LYRA: I see the sphinx of Egypt! + +ASTRAEA: And all the while I am a manufactory of gunpowder in this quiet +old-world Sabbath circle of dear good souls, with their stereotyped +interjections, and orchestra of enthusiasms; their tapering delicacies: +the rejoicing they have in their common agreement on all created things. +To them it is restful. It spurs me to fly from rooms and chairs and beds +and houses. I sleep hardly a couple of hours. Then into the early +morning air, out with the birds; I know no other pleasure. + +LYRA: Hospital work for a variation: civil or military. The former +involves the house-surgeon: the latter the grateful lieutenant. + +ASTRAEA: Not if a woman can resist . . . I go to it proof-armoured. + +LYRA: What does the Dame say? + +ASTRAEA: Sighs over me! Just a little maddening to hear. + +LYRA: When we feel we have the strength of giants, and are bidden to sit +and smile! You should rap out some of our old sweet-innocent garden +oaths with her--'Carnation! Dame!' That used to make her dance on her +seat.--'But, dearest Dame, it is as natural an impulse for women to have +that relief as for men; and natural will out, begonia! it will!' We ran +through the book of Botany for devilish objurgations. I do believe our +misconduct caused us to be handed to the good man at the altar as the +right corrective. And you were the worst offender. + +ASTRAEA: Was I? I could be now, though I am so changed a creature. + +LYRA: You enjoy the studies with your Spiral, come! + +ASTRAEA: Professor Spiral is the one honest gentleman here. He does +homage to my principles. I have never been troubled by him: no silly +hints or side-looks--you know, the dog at the forbidden bone. + +LYRA: A grand orator. + +ASTRAEA: He is. You fix on the smallest of his gifts. He is +intellectually and morally superior. + +LYRA: Praise of that kind makes me rather incline to prefer his +inferiors. He fed gobble-gobble on your puffs of incense. I coughed +and scraped the gravel; quite in vain; he tapped for more and more. + +ASTRAEA: Professor Spiral is a thinker; he is a sage. He gives women +their due. + +LYRA: And he is a bachelor too--or consequently. + +ASTRAEA: If you like you may be as playful with me as the Lyra of our +maiden days used to be. My dear, my dear, how glad I am to have you +here! You remind me that I once had a heart. It will beat again with +you beside me, and I shall look to you for protection. A novel request +from me. From annoyance, I mean. It has entirely altered my character. +Sometimes I am afraid to think of what I was, lest I should suddenly +romp, and perform pirouettes and cry 'Carnation!' There is the bell. +We must not be late when the professor condescends to sit for meals. + +LYRA: That rings healthily in the professor. + +ASTRAEA: Arm in arm, my Lyra. + +LYRA: No Pluriel yet! + + (They enter the house, and the time changes to evening of the same + day. The scene is still the garden.) + + + + SCENE VI + + ASTRAEA, ARDEN + +ASTRAEA: Pardon me if I do not hear you well. + +ARDEN: I will not even think you barbarous. + +ASTRAEA: I am. I am the object of the chase. + +ARDEN: The huntsman draws the wood, then, and not you. + +ASTRAEA: + At any instant I am forced to run, + Or turn in my defence: how can I be + Other than barbarous? You are the cause. + +ARDEN: No: heaven that made you beautiful's the cause. + +ASTRAEA: + Say, earth, that gave you instincts. Bring me down + To instincts! When by chance I speak awhile + With our professor, you appear in haste, + Full cry to sight again the missing hare. + Away ideas! All that's divinest flies! + I have to bear in mind how young you are. + +ARDEN: + You have only to look up to me four years, + Instead of forty! + +ASTRAEA: Sir? + + + +ARDEN + There's my misfortune! + And worse that, young, I love as a young man. + Could I but quench the fire, I might conceal + The youthfulness offending you so much. + +ASTRAEA: I wish you would. I wish it earnestly. + +ARDEN: Impossible. I burn. + +ASTRAEA: You should not burn. + +ARDEN + 'Tis more than I. 'Tis fire. It masters will. + You would not say I should not' if you knew fire. + It seizes. It devours. + +ASTRAEA: Dry wood. + +ARDEN: + Cold wit! + How cold you can be! But be cold, for sweet + You must be. And your eyes are mine: with them + I see myself: unworthy to usurp + The place I hold a moment. While I look + I have my happiness. + +ASTRAEA: You should look higher. + +ARDEN: + Through you to the highest. Only through you! + Through you + The mark I may attain is visible, + And I have strength to dream of winning it. + You are the bow that speeds the arrow: you + The glass that brings the distance nigh. My world + Is luminous through you, pure heavenly, + But hangs upon the rose's outer leaf, + Not next her heart. Astraea! my own beloved! + +ASTRAEA: We may be excellent friends. And I have faults. + +ARDEN: Name them: I am hungering for more to love. + +ASTRAEA: + I waver very constantly: I have + No fixity of feeling or of sight. + I have no courage: I can often dream + Of daring: when I wake I am in dread. + I am inconstant as a butterfly, + And shallow as a brook with little fish! + Strange little fish, that tempt the small boy's net, + But at a touch straight dive! I am any one's, + And no one's! I am vain. + Praise of my beauty lodges in my ears. + The lark reels up with it; the nightingale + Sobs bleeding; the flowers nod; I could believe + A poet, though he praised me to my face. + +ARDEN: + Never had poet so divine a fount + To drink of! + +ASTRAEA: + Have I given you more to love + +ARDEN: + More! You have given me your inner mind, + Where conscience in the robes of Justice shoots + Light so serenely keen that in such light + Fair infants, I newly criminal of earth,' + As your friend Osier says, might show some blot. + Seraphs might! More to love? Oh! these dear faults + Lead you to me like troops of laughing girls + With garlands. All the fear is, that you trifle, + Feigning them. + +ASTRAEA: + For what purpose? + +ARDEN: + Can I guess? + +ASTRAEA: + + I think 'tis you who have the trifler's note. + My hearing is acute, and when you speak, + Two voices ring, though you speak fervidly. + Your Osier quotation jars. Beware! + Why were you absent from our meeting-place + This morning? + + +. + +ARDEN: + I was on the way, and met + Your uncle Homeware + +ASTRAEA: Ah! + +ARDEN: He loves you. + +ASTRAEA: + He loves me: he has never understood. + He loves me as a creature of the flock; + A little whiter than some others. + Yes; He loves me, as men love; not to uplift; + Not to have faith in; not to spiritualize. + For him I am a woman and a widow + One of the flock, unmarked save by a brand. + He said it!--You confess it! You have learnt + To share his error, erring fatally. + +ARDEN: By whose advice went I to him? + +ASTRAEA: + By whose? + Pursuit that seemed incessant: persecution. + Besides, I have changed since then: I change; I change; + It is too true I change. I could esteem + You better did you change. And had you heard + The noble words this morning from the mouth + Of our professor, changed were you, or raised + Above love-thoughts, love-talk, and flame and flutter, + High as eternal snows. What said he else, + My uncle Homeware? + +ARDEN: + That you were not free: + And that he counselled us to use our wits. + +ASTRAEA: + But I am free I free to be ever free! + My freedom keeps me free! He counselled us? + I am not one in a conspiracy. + I scheme no discord with my present life. + Who does, I cannot look on as my friend. + Not free? You know me little. Were I chained, + For liberty I would sell liberty + To him who helped me to an hour's release. + But having perfect freedom . . . + +ARDEN: No. + +ASTRAEA: + Good sir, + You check me? + +ARDEN: Perfect freedom? + +ASTRAEA: Perfect! + +ARDEN: No! + +ASTRAEA: Am I awake? What blinds me? + +ARDEN: + Filaments + The slenderest ever woven about a brain + From the brain's mists, by the little sprite called + Fancy. + A breath would scatter them; but that one breath + Must come of animation. When the heart + Is as, a frozen sea the brain spins webs. + +ASTRAEA: + 'Tis very singular! + I understand. + You translate cleverly. I hear in verse + My uncle Homeware's prose. He has these notions. + Old men presume to read us. + +ARDEN: + Young men may. + You gaze on an ideal reflecting you + Need I say beautiful? Yet it reflects + Less beauty than the lady whom I love + Breathes, radiates. Look on yourself in me. + What harm in gazing? You are this flower + You are that spirit. But the spirit fed + With substance of the flower takes all its bloom! + And where in spirits is the bloom of the flower? + +ASTRAEA: + 'Tis very singular. You have a tone + Quite changed. + +ARDEN: + You wished a change. To show you, how + I read you . . . + +ASTRAEA: + Oh! no, no. It means dissection. + I never heard of reading character + That did not mean dissection. Spare me that. + I am wilful, violent, capricious, weak, + Wound in a web of my own spinning-wheel, + A star-gazer, a riband in the wind . . . + +ARDEN: + A banner in the wind! and me you lead, + And shall! At least, I follow till I win. + +ASTRAEA: + Forbear, I do beseech you. + +ARDEN: + I have had + Your hand in mine. + +ASTRAEA: + Once. + +ARDEN: + Once! + Once! 'twas; once, was the heart alive, + Leaping to break the ice. Oh! once, was aye + That laughed at frosty May like spring's return. + Say you are terrorized: you dare not melt. + You like me; you might love me; but to dare, + Tasks more than courage. Veneration, friends, + Self-worship, which is often self-distrust, + Bar the good way to you, and make a dream + A fortress and a prison. + +ASTRAEA: + Changed! you have changed + Indeed. When you so boldly seized my hand + It seemed a boyish freak, done boyishly. + I wondered at Professor Spiral's choice + Of you for an example, and our hope. + Now you grow dangerous. You must have thought, + And some things true you speak-save 'terrorized.' + It may be flattering to sweet self-love + To deem me terrorized.--'Tis my own soul, + My heart, my mind, all that I hold most sacred, + Not fear of others, bids me walk aloof. + Who terrorizes me? Who could? Friends? Never! + The world? as little. Terrorized! + +ARDEN: + Forgive me. + +ASTRAEA: + I might reply, Respect me. If I loved, + If I could be so faithless as to love, + Think you I would not rather noise abroad + My shame for penitence than let friends dwell + Deluded by an image of one vowed + To superhuman, who the common mock + Of things too human has at heart become. + +ARDEN: + You would declare your love? + +ASTRAEA: + I said, my shame. + The woman that's the widow is ensnared, + Caught in the toils! away with widows!--Oh! + I hear men shouting it. + +ARDEN: + But shame there's none + For me in loving: therefore I may take + Your friends to witness? tell them that my pride + Is in the love of you? + +ASTRAEA: + 'Twill soon bring + The silence that should be between us two, + And sooner give me peace. + +ARDEN: + And you consent? + +ASTRAEA: + For the sake of peace and silence I consent, + You should be warned that you will cruelly + Disturb them. But 'tis best. You should be warned + Your pleading will be hopeless. But 'tis best. + You have my full consent. Weigh well your acts, + You cannot rest where you have cast this bolt + Lay that to heart, and you are cherished, prized, + Among them: they are estimable ladies, + Warmest of friends; though you may think they soar + Too loftily for your measure of strict sense + (And as my uncle Homeware's pupil, sir, + In worldliness, you do), just minds they have: + Once know them, and your banishment will fret. + I would not run such risks. You will offend, + Go near to outrage them; and perturbate + As they have not deserved of you. But I, + Considering I am nothing in the scales + You balance, quite and of necessity + Consent. When you have weighed it, let me hear. + My uncle Homeware steps this way in haste. + We have been talking long, and in full view ! + + + + SCENE VII + + ASTRAEA, ARDEN, HOMEWARE + +HOMEWARE: + Astraea, child! You, Arden, stand aside. + Ay, if she were a maid you might speak first, + But being a widow she must find her tongue. + Astraea, they await you. State the fact + As soon as you are questioned, fearlessly. + Open the battle with artillery. + +ASTRAEA: + What is the matter, uncle Homeware? + +HOMEWARE (playing fox): + What? + Why, we have watched your nice preliminaries + From the windows half the evening. Now run in. + Their patience has run out, and, as I said, + Unlimber and deliver fire at once. + Your aunts Virginia and Winifred, + With Lady Oldlace, are the senators, + The Dame for Dogs. They wear terrific brows, + But be not you affrighted, my sweet chick, + And tell them uncle Homeware backs your choice, + By lawyer and by priests! by altar, fount, + And testament! + +ASTRAEA: + My choice! what have I chosen? + +HOMEWARE: + She asks? You hear her, Arden?--what and whom! + +ARDEN: + Surely, sir! . . . heavens! have you . . . + +HOMEWARE: + Surely the old fox, + In all I have read, is wiser than the young: + And if there is a game for fox to play, + Old fox plays cunningest. + +ASTRAEA: + Why fox? Oh! uncle, + You make my heart beat with your mystery; + I never did love riddles. Why sit they + Awaiting me, and looking terrible? + +HOMEWARE: + It is reported of an ancient folk + Which worshipped idols, that upon a day + Their idol pitched before them on the floor + +ASTRAEA: + Was ever so ridiculous a tale! + +HOMEWARE + To call the attendant fires to account + Their elders forthwith sat . . . + +ASTRAEA: + Is there no prayer + Will move you, uncle Homeware? + +HOMEWARE: + God-daughter, + This gentleman for you I have proposed + As husband. + +ASTRAEA: + Arden! we are lost. + +ARDEN: + Astraea! + Support him! Though I knew not his design, + It plants me in mid-heaven. Would it were + Not you, but I to bear the shock. My love! + We lost, you cry; you join me with you lost! + The truth leaps from your heart: and let it shine + To light us on our brilliant battle day + And victory + +ASTRAEA: + Who betrayed me! + +HOMEWARE: + Who betrayed? + Your voice, your eyes, your veil, your knife and fork; + Your tenfold worship of your widowhood; + As he who sees he must yield up the flag, + Hugs it oath-swearingly! straw-drowningly. + To be reasonable: you sent this gentleman + Referring him to me . . . . + +ASTRAEA: + And that is false. + All's false. You have conspired. I am disgraced. + But you will learn you have judged erroneously. + I am not the frail creature you conceive. + Between your vision of life's aim, and theirs + Who presently will question me, I cling + To theirs as light: and yours I deem a den + Where souls can have no growth. + +HOMEWARE: + But when we touched + The point of hand-pressings, 'twas rightly time + To think of wedding ties? + +ASTRAEA: + Arden, adieu! + + (She rushes into house.) + + + + SCENE VIII + + ARDEN, HOMEWARE + + +ARDEN: + Adieu! she said. With her that word is final. + +HOMEWARE: + Strange! how young people blowing words like clouds + On winds, now fair, now foul, and as they please + Should still attach the Fates to them. + +ARDEN: + She's wounded + Wounded to the quick! + +HOMEWARE: + The quicker our success: for short + Of that, these dames, who feel for everything, + Feel nothing. + +ARDEN: + Your intention has been kind, + Dear sir, but you have ruined me. + +HOMEWARE: + Good-night. (Going.) + +ARDEN: + Yet she said, we are lost, in her surprise. + +HOMEWARE: + Good morning. (Returning.) + +ARDEN: + I suppose that I am bound + (If I could see for what I should be glad!) + To thank you, sir. + +HOMEWARE: + Look hard but give no thanks. + I found my girl descending on the road + Of breakneck coquetry, and barred her way. + Either she leaps the bar, or she must back. + That means she marries you, or says good-bye. + (Going again.) + +ARDEN: + Now she's among them. (Looking at window.) + +HOMEWARE: + Now she sees her mind. + +ARDEN: + It is my destiny she now decides! + +HOMEWARE: + There's now suspense on earth and round the spheres. + +ARDEN: + She's mine now: mine! or I am doomed to go. + +HOMEWARE: + The marriage ring, or the portmanteau now! + +ARDEN: + Laugh as you like, air! I am not ashamed + To love and own it. + +HOMEWARE: + So the symptoms show. + Rightly, young man, and proving a good breed. + To further it's a duty to mankind + And I have lent my push, But recollect: + Old Ilion was not conquered in a day. + (He enters house.) + +ARDEN: + Ten years! If I may win her at the end! + + + CURTAIN + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A great oration may be a sedative +A male devotee is within an inch of a miracle +Above Nature, I tell him, or, we shall be very much below +As in all great oratory! The key of it is the pathos +Back from the altar to discover that she has chained herself +Cupid clipped of wing is a destructive parasite +Excess of a merit is a capital offence in morality +His idea of marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody +I am a discordant instrument I do not readily vibrate +I like him, I like him, of course, but I want to breathe +I who respect the state of marriage by refusing +Love and war have been compared--Both require strategy +Peace, I do pray, for the husband-haunted wife +Period of his life a man becomes too voraciously constant +Pitiful conceit in men +Rejoicing they have in their common agreement +Self-worship, which is often self-distrust +Suspects all young men and most young women +Their idol pitched before them on the floor +Were I chained, For liberty I would sell liberty +Woman descending from her ideal to the gross reality of man +Your devotion craves an enormous exchange + + +[The End] + + + + +********************************************************************** +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Sentimentalists (Play), by Meredith +*********This file should be named gn03v10.txt or gn03v10.zip********* + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, gn03v11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, gn03v10a.txt + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + +More information about this book is at the top of this file. + +We are now trying to release all our etexts one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. 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