_About a Couple of months later than Act II._
_The Duchess of Rainshire’s drawing-room, London. The fore-part of the
stage represents an alcove of the big drawing-room; the back of the
stage opens out so as to suggest a large room beyond. Heavy curtains
hang on either side of back of alcove. Left second entrance, a door
leading direct from alcove to outer hall. Left front, up against wall
and projecting into room, a grand piano, closed. Right front, a large
Chesterfield placed at convenient angle. One or two small chairs, big
pictures, a palm or two, etc., as in a first class house._
_THE DUCHESS OF RAINSHIRE, LOVEDAY and GORDON DISCOVERED in the
foreground. Back of stage occasional guests pass to and fro in the big
drawing-room, and faint sounds of music in the distance are heard._
_THE DUCHESS is a middle-aged, smart woman of the world, with a
commanding manner and quick way of speaking, but kindly._
GORDON. (_Standing, speaking earnestly declaiming as though concluding
a long argument._) I fear I have bored you, there is so much to
say, but perhaps the chief point is that there shall not only be
international law, but adequate force behind that law to enforce it.
DUCHESS. (_Stifling a yawn._) Well, Mr. Hyde, I’m sure I wish you the
success you deserve, and not what I fear you are likely to get. London
simply swarms with panaceas and their parents.
LOVEDAY. (_Appealing._) But they haven’t all got _you_ to help them!
DUCHESS. Oh yes, most of them have! But mercifully the schemes
counteract each other on the whole, or where should _I_ be?
LOVEDAY. You must not allow _anything_ to counteract this.
DUCHESS. (_To MR. HYDE._) Well, young man, remember! It’s neither for
yourself nor for your ideas I’m launching you on the defenceless man at
the helm, but simply because Loveday used to have fascinating freckles
on her nose when she was six years old.
GORDON. I know I owe her an awful lot. And you too. I’m ever so
grateful, I can’t say how grateful. Posterity will--
DUCHESS. (_Interrupting._) You are going to say that I’ll go down to
history as the patron of genius, of course--I’m glad to hear it. It may
help to counteract the _other_ way I shall go down to history. No one
who has had two successive husbands, both Dukes, could fail to find
posterity as critical as the present generation is spiteful.
(_GORDON looks bewildered._)
LOVEDAY. Don’t believe her, Gordon. Everybody’s awfully fond of her.
DUCHESS. Go and think that over somewhere by yourself, young man. I
haven’t seen Loveday since her escapade into Greater Britain and I want
to hear from her how this little island looks in true prospective.
(_GORDON bows and goes toward back of stage and mingles with other
quests, strolling out of sight. Meanwhile a guest or two stroll partly
round the alcove, but seeing the DUCHESS talking, retire._)
DUCHESS. (_Taking LOVEDAY’S arm and pushing her down on to sofa, sits
beside her._) Now, Miss, your confessions.
LOVEDAY. He is really wonderful.
DUCHESS. Though New Zealand is British my experience of home Britons
tells me it is not peopled by geniuses. He is exceptional. Naturally.
LOVEDAY. Not at all naturally.
DUCHESS. Hoity-toity.--I’m not old enough to say that properly, but
it is so effective, I’m beginning young, so as to get enough practice
before my public use of it. So--hoity-toity!
(_LOVEDAY smiles, says nothing._)
DUCHESS. What’s wrong, don’t I say it properly? It ought to elicit some
retort from you which should reveal your secret more completely than
ever.
LOVEDAY. I haven’t got a secret.
DUCHESS. Hoity-toity!--I think I did it rather better that time--
LOVEDAY. (_Earnestly._) I _haven’t_ a secret really!
DUCHESS. I must have done it better: you retorted, telling me that you
have a secret.
LOVEDAY. (_Laughing._) I haven’t, really and truly I haven’t.
DUCHESS. Hoit--no. I’ll vary it. Fiddlesticks! Who is it?
LOVEDAY. _Who_ is what?
DUCHESS. Whom are you in love with?
LOVEDAY. Nobody.
DUCHESS. Is he in love with you?
LOVEDAY. Who? Nobody? Yes. Nobody is in love with me.
DUCHESS. He. (_Points with her fan through opening of alcove._) Your
New Zealand Genius.
LOVEDAY. (_A shade despondently, but unconscious of it._) No, he is not.
DUCHESS. (_Pouncing._) Ha! that’s it, is it?
LOVEDAY. That’s what? Oh, dear! Why is it I always talk such bad
English when I am with you?
DUCHESS. Tush. Tell me about him!
LOVEDAY. (_Brightening._) Oh, how nice of you. I did _so_ want you to
take an interest in his ideas. They are so _wonderful_. They will make--
DUCHESS. I don’t care one Jellicoed submarine about his ideas. Tell me
about himself.
LOVEDAY. He is a little lame, poor boy--
DUCHESS. So I _have_ observed.
LOVEDAY. But it isn’t fundamental. He got a stake through his thigh
when he was a lad and it healed badly. It must have been dreadful for
him.
DUCHESS. Are you going to marry him?
LOVEDAY. Oh, how _can_ you say such things? It has never entered his
head!
DUCHESS. Hoity-toity.
LOVEDAY. Oh, it hasn’t!
DUCHESS. Well, here is a personable young man for whom you feel pity,
and you are twenty-seven to his thirty. I only ask, are you going to
marry him?
LOVEDAY. (_Rising indignantly._) How _can_ you say such things. I never
thought of it! Why he--he loves someone else!
DUCHESS. Oh, _that’s_ the trouble, is it? Where is she?
LOVEDAY. In New Zealand.
DUCHESS. (_Patting LOVEDAY’S hand._) Then that’s all right, my dear.
You can have him if you want.
LOVEDAY. But I don’t want, that way.--Oh, I don’t want any way! Oh, why
_do_ you have such dreadful conversations?
DUCHESS. That’s it. Quarrel with your benefactor! Are you going to
flounce out of the house _before_ the Prime Minister comes?
LOVEDAY. I can’t now--but I’m not going to take anything back because
you promised to help us.
DUCHESS. (_Laughing delightedly and pulling LOVEDAY down again beside
her._) Oh, so it is us?
LOVEDAY. Only for this piece of work, till his idea is launched, of
course. What do you suppose I came across from New Zealand for?
DUCHESS. (_Chuckling._) I wondered.
LOVEDAY. Don’t you care a bit for a big idea that will help the world?
Can’t you imagine a woman gladly crossing the world to have even a
small share in helping it forward?
DUCHESS. I could imagine it; but I have never yet _observed_ it.
LOVEDAY. Well, you can now. Look at me.
DUCHESS. I do, my child, and I see a young woman in love.
LOVEDAY. (_Shaking herself._) Ooh!
DUCHESS. Never mind, my dear. He is a personable young man enough.
There are no available Dukes, Earls or Marquises I can recommend at
present and I believe in people marrying for love. I have seen too much
of the other thing. So what can I do for you?
LOVEDAY. You know quite well. I only asked you, begged you, to make the
Prime Minister listen to him.
DUCHESS. Oh, the poor man! When he comes here for an hour it is for
relaxation and quiet. He looks to me to _protect_ him from Cranks, not
to stuff them down his throat.
LOVEDAY. (_Emphatically._) Gordon is _not_ a crank.
DUCHESS. All cranks have emphatic relatives who testify ardently to
their sanity.
LOVEDAY. I’m _not_ his relative.
DUCHESS. Hoity-toity.
LOVEDAY. (_Smiling._) That doesn’t react with me any longer.
(_Coaxing._) Come now, be an _angel_ and introduce Gordon to the Prime
Minister. Don’t say anything about your suspicions that he is a crank.
Just say he is a nice young man from New Zealand.
DUCHESS. And what am I to say about you? Or are you dying to be
sacrificed on the altar of friendship and have nothing said about you?
LOVEDAY. Oh, yes.
DUCHESS. You don’t insist on an introduction too?
LOVEDAY. No. I ask only one introduction. Promise _that_.
DUCHESS. Very well.
LOVEDAY. You darling!
DUCHESS. But I will use the introduction for you, not the man. The
Prime Minister likes young girls if they are at all good looking, and I
think one may call you that.
LOVEDAY. Oh, you mustn’t! I _won’t_ be introduced.
DUCHESS. What! You refuse to be introduced to the Prime Minister?
LOVEDAY. (_Punching a cushion._) I do. I do absolutely. That one
introduction is for Gordon. You _promised_ one; and Gordon is to have
it.
(_THE REV. DR. VARLIE, separating himself from the guests, has
strolled into the alcove._)
DUCHESS. Well, I suppose it must be.
LOVEDAY. You are a _dear_.
DUCHESS. But for your purpose, it is not the Prime Minister you want
first of all. There is another Cabinet Minister whose word in the Prime
Minister’s ear would be priceless.
LOVEDAY. Oh! Then _please_ introduce Gordon to him first!
DUCHESS. He’s very amiable.
LOVEDAY. Splendid. Is he here to-night?
DUCHESS. Yes. Go and fetch your phenomenon. If you two are to be found
here when wanted. I’ll either send for you or stroll this way with him
if I can.
LOVEDAY. Thanks _awfully_! (_Goes through curtains, to drawing-room
beyond._)
(_THE REV. DR. VARLIE advances. He has a considerable beard, and wears
clerical garb. He politely presents himself to the Duchess. She greets
him without enthusiasm._)
DUCHESS. Oh, Dr. Chapman, I’m glad you found time to come for a little
relaxation.
VARLIE. Oh, dear lady. I take no relaxation in these sad times. But I
wanted a word with you before your next Committee for the relief of the
homeless Serbians. As you know, the American people have been stirred
to the depths, and out of the fulness of their hearts they have sent
_me_ to join my ministrations with yours. As you well know, these weeks
past I have put my back into it.
DUCHESS. Very good of you I’m sure. We can’t have too much help.
_Practical_ help.
VARLIE. At the last Committee Meeting I opined that a cheque would not
be out of place in your hands, Duchess.
DUCHESS. Never.
VARLIE. (_Taking out his pocket book._) Waal, my flock answered my
prayers, and sent this to me for you. If you could sign the receipt
yourself, Duchess, it would be like placing seed in fertile ground. I
know your secretary does such routine work for you, Duchess, and that’s
why I took this chance of handing it to you myself.
DUCHESS. Of course I’ll sign the receipt if you like. Is that all?
VARLIE. Waal, the other business will do when we meet at the next
Committee.
DUCHESS. (_Moving off, back of stage._) Then come along with me, and
I’ll find you an interesting girl or two to entertain you. You just
missed one as you came in.
VARLIE. So I divined from her earnestness. A lovely type.
(_They go out together. In a moment LOVEDAY and GORDON return._)
LOVEDAY. So we are to sit _here_ till she comes or sends for you.
GORDON. (_Gratefully._) I _say_. You do work miracles.
LOVEDAY. It is the Duchess who will do that. Isn’t she a dear?
GORDON. She terrifies me rather.
LOVEDAY. For moments, just at times, she terrifies me. But all the safe
times in between I know she is a dear.
GORDON. I say, I’m nervous you know.
LOVEDAY. Oh, _don’t_ be! You will only have a few minutes this time:
just to make a good impression. If you do that then the Minister may
give you a serious interview later.
GORDON. I’m wretchedly nervous. Is he, is he _short_ with people?
LOVEDAY. He likes people to be short with him! He is dreadfully bored
by long-winded cranks of course.
GORDON. I say, what do you think? (_Pulls out some papers from his
pocket._) I thought of wording Clause 29 of the suggested constitution
as follows: “The Super-Parliament is to have the power of prohibiting
the manufacture of _anything_ which in its opinion constitutes a menace
to the Peace of the world: with power to inflict the death penalty on
all concerned in any infringement of its prohibition in any country.”
LOVEDAY. Yes. I think that is good. Coupled with the other clauses that
makes it safer.
GORDON. I hope the Prime Minister will see that. I must learn this
clause off by heart now. Teach it to me, will you?
LOVEDAY. You don’t know the other clauses off by heart, _do_ you?
GORDON. Yes, of course I learnt them. I couldn’t _read_ them to the
Prime Minister, could I? And I’m so nervous, I’d muddle them up unless
I just learn them off.
LOVEDAY. (_Horrified._) You don’t intend to _say off_ all the
thirty-three clauses of the suggested constitution to the Prime
Minister at this first meeting, do you?
GORDON. (_Simply surprised._) Why, yes! I’m to tell him the ideas,
aren’t I?
LOVEDAY. Good heavens! not in a block like that though. After you have
made an impression on him you must give him these all typed out so that
his secretaries and colleagues and everybody can make marginal notes on
them and hash them up.
GORDON. If I’m not to say the clauses I have learnt, what on earth _am_
I to say?
LOVEDAY. Say you have an idea worth his serious
attention--say--oh--whatever he makes you _feel_ will reach his
attention!
GORDON. Good heavens. What a gamble!
LOVEDAY. Not a bit. The inspiration will come.
GORDON. _You_ have been my inspiration for so much of this.
LOVEDAY. No, no. I have only suggested a word here and there.
GORDON. I owe you so much. How strange it is I should have met you the
same day that the vision came to me. Next to my vision-spirit, you are
the source of all the ideas worth anything in it.
LOVEDAY. Nonsense. Absolute nonsense. I simply had nothing concrete in
my mind at first! It is you, you, _you_ who have put all the ideas into
practical, living, useful shape.
GORDON. But _I_ had no concrete ideas at first!
LOVEDAY. Well, _you_ evolved them out of your inner consciousness.
GORDON. (_Obstinately._) The vision, and you, gave me the ideas to work
out.
LOVEDAY. (_Almost irritably._) It’s sheer _nonsense_, that old vision!
The thoughts were yours, yours, _yours_! She only mumbled a little
vague _tosh_!
GORDON. (_Astonished._) Loveday!
LOVEDAY. Well, I’m tired of seeing you being so humble, and failing
to realise how splendid you are, and how the credit of it is all your
_own_.
GORDON. Loveday.--You don’t really think that?
LOVEDAY. I do.
GORDON. (_Whimsically._) I’m so accustomed to women thinking poorly of
me--Nora--
LOVEDAY. (_After a pause._) Does she--does she still _hurt_ you, Gordon?
GORDON. No I have waked from my foolish dream of love for her. She, she
was too cruel--and besides--she, you know, you heard--she loved Robert.
LOVEDAY. (_Joy showing in her face, which she tries to conceal._) Then
you feel free.
GORDON. Yes. Thank God I’m free from love of any earthly woman.
(_LOVEDAY’S face falls._)
GORDON. _You_ make most women look small, and then--then--anyway, I’m
not the type of man such a woman as I could love now, would look at.
Thank God, no mortal woman can rack my heart. My vision Queen has my
heart and my dreams.
(_LOVEDAY looks bright--then a little mischievous. VARLIE returns,
strolling round the room, unnoticed by them. He starts somewhat at
seeing them talking together so deeply and nods as if recognising
something and saying “ha ha” to himself. He studies the angle of the
room and places himself back of the piano, turning towards the wall
and pretending to examine a picture. Meanwhile LOVEDAY and GORDON
continue, unaware, to talk._)
LOVEDAY. Spirits _don’t_ appear. She must have been a real woman.
GORDON. Impossible.
LOVEDAY. But a spirit is _more_ impossible! (_triumphantly_). So you
see, every single bit of credit for it is yours.
GORDON. Yours.
(_Both laughing say together “yours.”_)
(_From back of stage, enter CABINET MINISTER with the DUCHESS. THE
MINISTER is old, benign and white haired, with a long white beard. A
plain clothes detective [SMITHERS] in evening dress follows him at a
little distance and hovers near the curtains at the back._)
MINISTER. Ah! I remembered that this alcove is generally nice and
quiet. You are a good hostess, my dear.
(_THE DUCHESS throws a comical look at the back of the sofa where
GORDON and LOVEDAY are sitting._)
DUCHESS. I’m glad _you_ think so! It isn’t easy to satisfy different
people at the same time.
MINISTER. All I ask is a quiet cup of coffee with you, my dear. Can we
have some coffee here, by the way?
DUCHESS. Of course. (_Slips quickly to wall and rings._) It will be
here directly.
MINISTER. And your coffee is good. Ah, it reminds me of Paris in the
late seventies--when I was a young man. But you didn’t know Paris in
the late seventies I expect? No, no, of course not.
(_MAID in smart uniform, waistcoat, brass buttons, enters from
entrance right, going quickly up to the DUCHESS, who whispers “coffee
at once, here.” MAID goes out._)
MINISTER. Paris in the seventies was an adventure.
DUCHESS. Any city is an adventure to the right man.
(_MAID enters with coffee, MINISTER helps himself to sugar and cream,
stands centre of stage holding it in his hand._)
MINISTER. That’s true. You are a witty woman, my dear. And that’s a
thing not often come by now-a-days.
DUCHESS. Modern women are all clever, and cleverness kills wit as a
magnifying glass kills a complexion.
MINISTER. Good, good.
(_LOVEDAY and GORDON, observing their nearness, rise and stand a
little way off. The DUCHESS signals imperiously to LOVEDAY, but she
makes a determined grimace and slips round the left side of the sofa.
As she leaves GORDON she whispers “The great moment is coming--Good
Luck.” GORDON stands hesitating. The DUCHESS signs to him to come
forward._)
DUCHESS. Ah, _here_ is the young man of whom I spoke to you. May I
introduce Mr. Hyde? You said you could endure a chat with him. He wants
your influence with the Prime Minister you know. I tell him _you_ are
even more important.
MINISTER. Flatterer!
(_LOVEDAY behind the group waves her hand joyously. HYDE looks
relieved and very pleased._)
DUCHESS. The power behind the throne, Mr. Hyde.
MINISTER. (_Kindly._) Ah, how do you do, Mr. Hyde.
(_Shakes hands after carefully turning and laying down his coffee cup
on the corner of the piano behind him, placing the cup so that it is
on the audience side of the piano. VARLIE, who is still standing with
his back to the group, looking at the picture above the piano, notes
this quickly and keenly. He is seen by the audience to be listening
intently._)
MINISTER. How do you do. You come from Australia I believe?
GORDON. New Zealand, Sir.
MINISTER. New Zealand, yes, yes. A thousand miles by sea from the
nearest port in Australia.
GORDON. Yes, Sir.
MINISTER. I remember that because I was there myself when I was a young
man and very much it surprised me to be sure. I had always pictured New
Zealand as being to Australia like England to the Continent. Yes, yes.
A thousand miles away. Just think what a difference it would make, if
_England_ were a thousand miles from France at this present moment.
GORDON. Yes indeed, Sir.
MINISTER. So it is very fine of you young New Zealanders to join in
with us all the way you do. Very fine.
(_LOVEDAY crosses to right of stage and looks curiously at VARLIE but
without recognition._)
GORDON. We are Britons all, Sir.
MINISTER. Yes, yes. We are all fighting shoulder to shoulder, though I
expect the realisation of it has hardly touched you yet.
GORDON. My only brother was killed a few weeks ago in Gallipoli, Sir.
MINISTER. Dear, dear. A sad business that. I’m sorry for that, my lad.
GORDON. (_Beginning to be desperate._) And that is one reason why, Sir,
I am so anxious to ask your help for my scheme of international--
(_VARLIE meanwhile has very quietly slipped round so as to be on the
front of the piano, within reach of coffee cup._)
MINISTER. (_Putting up his hand and gently interrupting._) Now don’t
talk about schemes, young man. This is my recreation hour. Seeing you
carries me back to when I was a young chap myself. My father was one of
the old school and sent me round the world to finish my education.
(_VARLIE’S right cheek now faces LOVEDAY, she gazes at it, starts with
amazed half recognition, for the top half of the scar is visible._)
MINISTER. I remember very well going to New Zealand--and seeing its
pink and white terraces. Ah! They were wonderful, wonderful.
GORDON. They must have been, Sir (_his heart beginning to sink into his
boots_).
MINISTER. Yes, of course. They were destroyed before you could have
seen them. A terrible volcanic outburst that! Incredible. Why those
great pink and white terraces looked as though no power on earth could
destroy them. So beautiful they were too! So beautiful. Like coloured
marble that had been spun into lace cascades by magicians. Well, well,
_sic transit gloria mundi_! (_He shakes GORDON’S hand._) I’m glad to
have had this little talk with you, Mr. Hyde. These pleasant meetings
help to link up the Empire. Good-bye. Good Luck.
(_Meanwhile, through the last part of this conversation, VARLIE
has taken out the Green Jade Carving, seen in Act II., from his
pocket. LOVEDAY recognises it and shows tense anxiety and suppressed
excitement. VARLIE glances stealthily round the room, and sees that
no one is looking at him, for LOVEDAY pretends not to see him; she
then turns her head just in time to see him drop a drop of the poison
into the coffee cup on the piano, and quickly to turn away, his back
to the group, and go to another picture, hanging down right front of
the piano. VARLIE calmly pretends to be absorbed in examining the
picture. LOVEDAY is for a moment weak with amazement and anxiety, and
is evidently hesitating as to what course to follow, by the time the
MINISTER says, “Good-bye, good luck.”_)
GORDON. Good-bye, Sir, thank you. (_Desperate._) And may I come and
see you in office hours about my scheme? It is very important, it--is
a series of clauses for an international arrangement which will wipe
German Militarism and all other militarism off the earth--it--
MINISTER. If you _must_ send it--and I really ask you not to, I am
deluged with other people’s ideas--if you _must_ send it, my secretary
will attend to it. Good-bye.
(_GORDON steps back very dejected. The MINISTER turns, takes up his
coffee cup and says a word to the DUCHESS._)
MINISTER. And now for our chat, my dear.
(_He raises the coffee cup, about to drink slowly. LOVEDAY springs
forward and dashes the cup from his hand, spilling the coffee._
[NOTE.--_Better have a brown carpet so that the successive stains of a
long run won’t show._] _The DUCHESS and MINISTER look amazed._)
LOVEDAY. (_Panting but quietly._) That man, that man there!
(_Points at VARLIE, who is now in the corner between the footlights,
the piano, and the MINISTER’S group. Very unostentatiously he digs the
jade piece into the earth of pot and has barely covered it by this
time._)
Hold him, Gordon, hold him.
(_GORDON literally hurls himself on VARLIE and, before he has time to
turn, has his two arms pinned from behind. The two men struggle. The
MINISTER looks bewildered. Hearing the struggle the evening-dress-clad
detective near the curtains comes forward hurriedly and helps GORDON.
They succeed in holding VARLIE._)
DUCHESS. For God’s sake don’t have a scene in public.
(_She runs across room and rings repeatedly. MAID comes in by door
right._)
DUCHESS. (_To MAID._) Draw those curtains _instantly_ and stand by
them. Don’t let anyone in, not anyone unless I tell you.
(_The MAID hurries to obey and draws the heavy velvet curtains,
shutting off the alcove from the main drawing room and stations
herself by them._)
MINISTER. Dear, dear, what _is_ this all about! Why it is a clergyman!
isn’t it? What on earth are they handling a clergyman in this fashion
for? Why, Smithers man, you are to guard me, not to assist a young
ruffian in mauling a reverend gentleman.
SMITHERS. (_Puzzled, half relaxing hold on VARLIE_) I’m sure, Sir, I
don’t know--
LOVEDAY. Don’t, _don’t_ leave him! For God’s sake hold him.
DUCHESS. What _on earth_ is this outrageous fracas about? Loveday, I’m
_amazed_! The Rev. Dr. Chapman is an American whom I know and respect.
Let him go at once, Smithers. And you, Mr. Hyde, you outrageous humbug!
LOVEDAY. Don’t! (_She goes quickly up to VARLIE, pulls his beard with
one hand, and it comes off._)
(_Amazement and consternation of all._)
LOVEDAY. Yes, I thought so! Look, Gordon, see that scar on his cheek,
that little triangular red scar! But anyway you must know his face now,
it is VARLIE!
VARLIE. How the devil--What does all this mean! You attack the Minister
of Peace! I am the Rev. Dr. Chapman, as you well know, Duchess. If I
choose to wear a false beard till my own grows because I desire to
follow John the Baptist’s example, though alas late in life, is _that_
any crime? Why don’t you go round among your guests and arrest the
ladies with false hair. _They_ intend to attract and deceive while I
but symbolise my belief in the Nazarene vows.
(_He seems to be making an impression on the DUCHESS and the
MINISTER._)
LOVEDAY. No! Hold him, he’s dangerous. Hold him till I can tell you all!
GORDON. Sure, Loveday, _I’ll_ hold him, even if Mr. Smithers won’t.
LOVEDAY. Oh, but you both must. Listen. The reason I spilt the coffee
was that he had put poison in it!
MINISTER.}
DUCHESS. } (_Incredulous._) Poison? Poison!
LOVEDAY. Yes, poison. A deadly, secret poison, made from the karaka
nut. It would never have been detected, never! A few hours later
you would just have had a stroke and died! Of course he knows how
dreadfully important you are.
MINISTER.}
DUCHESS. } Bless my soul. Are you raving or am I dreaming, young lady.
How do you know this--this amazing thing? Fiddlesticks--tush--but,
good God.
LOVEDAY. I saw him do it.
VARLIE-CHAPMAN. (_Putting on a superior air._) Can you really even
_listen_ to such an absurd charge against one of my cloth?
LOVEDAY. I can prove it. You will find on him a green carved jade
hei-tiki, it has a secret recess in which the poison was. It must be on
him. He couldn’t swallow it, it’s too big. Search him!
VARLIE-CHAPMAN. (_Calmly._) Search me, officer--if you are an
officer--to satisfy the hysterical young lady and settle this absurd
business once and for all.
LOVEDAY. Don’t trust him. Have another man in to help. I charge him
with attempted murder you know, murder of the most important Cabinet
Minister.
DUCHESS. Oh, Loveday, this is too awful (_She sits._)
MINISTER. I feel a bit shaken, perhaps I may sit too.
SMITHERS. This is serious you know. It had better be looked into if
you’ll excuse me, sir. I have some of my men outside. If you would
ring three times quickly, and then twice more, my men will come in.
(_Loveday rushes to the bell and does so._) Thank you, Miss.
VARLIE. Waal, if this isn’t high comedy! But _most_ unseemly! And to
think that it is in _your_ house, Duchess, that I should be served up
with this nice little surprise party.
(_Enter two stalwart plain clothes men from door on right._)
SMITHERS. Hold this gentleman firmly while we search his pockets.
Excuse me, sir, but I think I ought to satisfy myself.
DUCHESS. I’m terribly distressed. I don’t know what to think. I have
known Loveday since she was six and had freckles on her nose, and she
has _never_ been hysterical.
LOVEDAY. (_Quietly._) I’m not hysterical now there are two such nice
strong men to hold Mr. Varlie.
MINISTER. (_Pathetically._) _Could_ I have some coffee do you think, my
dear? I was really needing it before----
DUCHESS. Of course. This awful fracas must have exhausted you.
MINISTER. (_Shaking his finger playfully at her._) No fancy cakes now!
DUCHESS. There are none in my house, not even to-night. I may not be
clever, but I can see the obvious as well as most people, and it is
glaringly obvious that anyone whose hands are steady enough to decorate
foodstuffs can handle tools of more use to the country. (_To MAID by
curtains._) Go and fetch some hot coffee at once. I will stay by the
curtains while you are gone. Don’t say one word to anyone, mind!
(_She goes out quickly through door right. Meanwhile SMITHERS
systematically searches all VARLIE’S pockets. He finds a revolver,
which he lays out with an accusing look._)
SMITHERS. That don’t look like a clergyman, sir!
VARLIE. All Americans have those little pets on them. In the backwoods
I have had to have it cocked on to my congregation so as to hold their
attention!
(_Meanwhile LOVEDAY is quite quietly and unobtrusively looking round
the corner, front right, where VARLIE had been standing before his
arrest. The coffee comes in, the MINISTER drinks it, the DUCHESS
returns from the curtains and the MAID takes up her place there
again._)
MINISTER. This is very painful, my dear, very painful. I’m sure I don’t
know what to think.
DUCHESS. We must wait and see.
VARLIE. Waal, Duchess, in a time like the present I quite understand
your young girls getting hysterical. Don’t let my position make you
feel bad. I bear no malice. It is my duty and my pleasure to turn the
other cheek!
(_LOVEDAY stands gazing curiously at the palm, down right, near where
VARLIE was. The smooth green moss is broken through in one place, and
rough earth shows._)
SMITHERS. (_Rising._) There is no jade ornament too large for him to
swallow on him that I can see.
VARLIE. Naturally! It grieves me that you should be so inured to
deception, young man, that you should doubt my word.
MINISTER. There, there. It was all a fancy. But you and I and the
Duchess can forgive a pretty girl more than this, can’t we, Mr., Mr.----
VARLIE. Dr. Chapman, sir. Now your myrmidons can unhand me, I reckon.
(_SMITHERS hesitates to give the order._)
LOVEDAY. Don’t! It’s not settled. Look at this.
(_SMITHERS comes forward and looks at pot as she indicates._)
SMITHERS. I see nothing there, Miss.
LOVEDAY. The earth has been disturbed here--look, the rest of the pot
is covered with moss.
DUCHESS. Oh, Loveday, Loveday. The gardener has pulled up a weed,
I suppose. Pulling up weeds always does disturb the moss. Even the
Government knows that.
LOVEDAY. Gordon, Mr. Smithers--haven’t you a penknife one of you? Dig
just there for me, please do.
VARLIE. (_Gets suddenly restive in his keepers’ hands._) This is the
limit! This beats everything. She put it there herself.
SMITHERS. (_Looking at him keenly._) Put it there? You said there
wasn’t anything just now.
VARLIE. I have had enough of this. (_To the two holding him._) Let me
go, you monkey-faced jumbos. (_To SMITHERS._) I’m due at our Embassy.
You can do your agricultural work as well when I’ve gone.
SMITHERS. (_Now suspicious of him._) We’ll just see first if there is
anything in this plant.
VARLIE. She did it herself. She simply put something in herself!
LOVEDAY. (_Spreading out her hands._) Look! I’ve got white kid gloves
on! I _couldn’t_ have done it without leaving earth on them! and there
isn’t a grain!
MINISTER. (_Leans forward intently interested._) She is a bright girl
that. I call that clever.
DUCHESS. Clever, yes. But not witty! She lost an opportunity of saying,
“I have the proof at my finger tips.”
MINISTER. (_Chuckling._) No case! The white gloves of a Judge on
circuit!
DUCHESS. Good! Ha, ha!
LOVEDAY. Look at _his_ hands. Look!
(_VARLIE closes his hands [which are gloveless] and clenches his nails
in._)
VARLIE. By gum, you don’t insult me like this!
SMITHERS. Please open your hands, sir.
VARLIE. I won’t, damn you.
SMITHERS. You had better, sir.
VARLIE. I dropped a coin in a flower bed this afternoon! I have some
earth in my nails anyway. (_He half opens his hands reluctantly._)
(_ALL lean forward to see. Two fingers are stained and there is earth
in two or three of the nails._)
SMITHERS. You’d have washed your hands if what you say about dropping
a coin is true before coming here, sir. Hold him well, men. Yes, Miss.
I’ll dig this pot up for you.
(_He digs with his penknife, all wait breathlessly, in a minute the
green jade ornament appears. He wipes it with his handkerchief, holds
it out to LOVEDAY._)
SMITHERS. Is that it, Miss.
LOVEDAY. (_Eager._) Yes, yes, that _is_ it!
MINISTER.}
DUCHESS. } (_Coming forward to look at it._) Dear, dear! Fancy! I
said Loveday wasn’t hysterical.
SMITHERS. That looks as though the young lady was right. You’ve had a
narrow escape, sir!
VARLIE. That don’t amount to shucks! What does that prove. There is
only wild talk. I tell you I’m known at the American Embassy, I’m known
to the Duchess here. You can’t begin to prove I ever saw that green
trumpery. The only thing you’ve got against me is that I wore a false
beard! (_Sneers._) Bring that up against an American citizen and a
minister of religion and you would look queer in the Law Courts!
LOVEDAY. And you are known to me--to us. To both Mr. Hyde and me. You
were Mr. Varlie in New Zealand.
GORDON. Yes, Varlie, there’s no mistaking you! You bought the freehold
of my Station and all my sheep and I’m not likely to forget it.
LOVEDAY. And you travelled all over New Zealand, selling things under
the name of Varlie, and you wouldn’t be pretending to be somebody else
and a clergyman too, if you were honest. Besides (_scornfully_), I saw
you buy that special secret poison from Roto, the old Maori, and you
made very special enquiries about its use, too!
SMITHERS. (_As though recollecting something._) Varlie--Varlie--New
Zealand. The secret service particular warned me against a man called
Varlie who has been hauling in a lot of freehold in New Zealand under
various names, and travelling for German American firms. We had lost
track of him. (_Joy spreading over his face._) You don’t mean to say he
is John Varlie! Not John Varlie, Miss?
LOVEDAY. Yes, yes.
GORDON. That’s the name I’ve known him under in New Zealand for months.
SMITHERS. My, men! We have got a haul. Well, ladies, the man is safe
now, anyway. There is no need to bother you any more to-night.
DUCHESS. Cleverness seems to get an appropriately solid result, Loveday?
SMITHERS. You are staying here, Miss? No? Your address, please.
(_He takes out a note book, she tells her address [a mumble and dumb
show]._)
And yours, sir? (_GORDON does the same._)
(_Meanwhile the MINISTER looks from one to the other, turns to
DUCHESS._)
MINISTER. He is evidently really a dangerous man! But a _clergyman_
too! What an outrage to the cloth. That’s the kind of thing to make
atheists.
SMITHERS. (_Snapping his note book and turning quickly._) He is no
clergyman. A _very_ dangerous man, sir. It is all a pretence too about
his being an American. He is an out and out German, sir, and I make no
doubt the young lady was right about his attempt on your life, sir. I
expect you have had a narrow escape. We won’t trouble you any further
to-night. Take him off, men. I’ve got all the addresses. Good-night,
ladies--good-night, sir, good-night, sir. (_Goes out after VARLIE, led
by the men, unresisting now._)
(_LOVEDAY and GORDON look at each other. DUCHESS subsides into sofa by
the MINISTER._)
DUCHESS. As I said, even London is an adventure for the right man.
(_Fans herself._) Loveday, come here.
MINISTER. (_Rises and shakes her hand, keeps it and pats it._) My dear
young lady, my dear young lady. The service you have done me is too
great for thanks. You may command me--always. And I hope I may often
have the happiness of serving you. But please give me something to do
at once. What can I do for you?
LOVEDAY. Oh, there _is_ one thing you can do for me, if only you will!
Will you!
MINISTER. An-y-thing you like to ask, my dear, if it is humanly
possible. What is it?
LOVEDAY. Please, oh please, let Mr. Hyde tell you about his wonderful
International plan.
MINISTER. Of course, of course! So he is a friend of yours, is he?
GORDON. (_Coming forward._) I have that great honour, sir.
GORDON. (_Takes out sheaf of papers._) If there was a Super-Parliament
constituted as I suggest Prussian Militarism, all Militarism, is not
only defeated now, but for ever! It is plucked out by the roots, but
not at the ruinous cost of imposing militarism on all other nations.
Oh, there’s so much. (_Hesitates._)
LOVEDAY. (_Breaking in, her voice almost chanting, like one inspired,
its notes resembling those used by her at the close of Act I._) And
Militarism is met, not by the weakness of a too trusting idealism but
by force controlled by intelligence. Law is devised with behind it
international force, which shall protect the nations, as law backed by
civil force protects each man and woman in Britain.
(_HYDE starts, gazing intently at her set inspired face and seems
to recognise her voice. He stretches out a hand, withdraws it, and
whispers in awed voice._)
HYDE. My queen! My vision. It is _she_! (_Sits as though entranced._)
LOVEDAY. (_Does not notice him, but continues uninterruptedly._) And
the nation which will not come into this council of nations proclaims
itself an outlaw, an aggressor, a planner of evil, and it inscribes its
own doom, for law that is outraged takes vengeance implacable.
(_There is a pause, she relaxes--smiles._)
MINISTER. My dear--I must think.
LOVEDAY. (_Holding out her hands to him appealingly._) You are the
most powerful man in England, it is for you to initiate this new era,
of international safety and peace. Whatever the terms of an ordinary
peace, militarism will spring up again to ravage the world. Let Britain
lead in this new enlargement of law and freedom, for this is the only
way to bring _security_ to the world.
MINISTER. (_Very seriously._) I will think about it, my dear.
DUCHESS. (_Returning to her normal._) If that is cleverness it makes me
a little dissatisfied with mere wit.
MINISTER. (_To HYDE._) Have your suggested constitution typed out,
young man, and bring it to Downing Street the day after to-morrow. I’ll
send you a card with the hour. Your address? (_HYDE hands him a card._)
I’ll try to get the Prime Minister interested. Good-night.
LOVEDAY. How splendid.
MINISTER. Good-night, my dear, good-night. If you leave it very long
before I see you again, I’ll have to send for you. Heaven guard you, my
dear.
(_To DUCHESS._) I must say good-night. I have long outstayed my time.
DUCHESS. Let me see you off my premises. I only pray there are no more
adventures for you on them. I hope exterminated dangers leave rest
behind them. (_They go off back centre together, the FOOTMAN pulls
curtain apart to let them out and follows them. Faint strains of music
are heard from distant room._)
LOVEDAY. (_Sits on sofa, looks at GORDON with a rapt gaze._) Your
chance, the world’s chance, has come!
GORDON. (_In awe-struck voice, tenderly. He stands half stooping before
her._) And _you_, you are not only my friend but my Goddess, my vision!
Your look just now--your wonderful voice when you were speaking to the
Minister a little ago. It was you that night in the woods--you I have
been adoring, and from you I have been drawing my inspiration!
LOVEDAY. (_Softly._) It was I in the woods. Chance gave me a moment’s
inspiration! which you worked into reality.
GORDON. (_Half kneels before her._) I know my love can be nothing at
all to you--I am not a fit mate for you. But let me go on kneeling to
you! Don’t spurn me.
LOVEDAY. (_Slowly._) Why are you so sure your love is nothing to me?
GORDON. (_As though blinded by a sudden shaft of light in the
darkness._) Oh! It can’t be that it _is_ anything to you?
LOVEDAY. Your love is everything to me.
(_Slowly he advances, with almost incredulous rapture. They kiss._)
CURTAIN.
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._
PLAYS OF OLD JAPAN: THE “NŌ”
BY MARIE C. STOPES AND
PROFESSOR JOJI SAKURAI
PREFACE BY BARON KATO
_The Times_ says: “_The Sumida River_ is a little play which, even in
translation, one feels to be of great beauty and intolerable pathos.
Dr. Stopes has written a lucid and serviceable introduction on the ‘Nō’
plays, which deserve the study of every student of the drama.”
_The Morning Post_ says: “The translators have chosen a rhythmic,
simple, irregular verse, which isolates just that element of pure
tragedy that underlies the native literary crust of ornament.... We
are convinced that drawing-room and library will welcome her to their
hearts.”
_T.P.’s Weekly_ says: “We advise all who care for the drama to read
this book. The effect may be compared to that of having the best work
of Synge with an added national and religious interest.”
_The Spectator_ says: “Dr. Stopes has made the ‘Nō’ and their history
for the first time accessible to the ordinary reader ... there is
pleasure to be got from them even by those who only read a translation
of the poems.”
_The Times_ (New York) says: “Dr. Stopes has placed the English reader
under a debt of gratitude by her work on these exquisite lyric plays.”
_The Athenæum_ says: “The author’s vivid and imaginative sympathy has
really enabled her in some degree to communicate the incommunicable.”
W. HEINEMANN. 5/- net.
MAN
OTHER POEMS & A PREFACE
BY
MARIE C. STOPES, D.SC., PH.D., F.R.S.L. Fellow of University College,
London.
“The title-poem, wherein is set forth with thoughtful earnestness and
no little grace of language the changing aspects of man to the eyes
of ripening womanhood, and ‘The Brother,’ a ‘true and unvarnished’
tragedy, deriving force from the very homeliness of its telling, stand
out most clearly in a volume of which the dominating qualities are
clearness of vision and a distinctive point of view.”--_The Athenæum._
“DR. STOPES is by calling a fossil botanist, and her scientific
training gives restraint and substance to all her verse. This is
particularly noticeable in the longish poem which opens the book,
tracing the changing image which man assumes in the mind of a growing
girl--a difficult theme well treated from the personal point of view,
and in graceful measured phrase. But there is no lack of emotion in
her pages; she sings with enthusiasm of the joy of married love;
and sometimes in a minor key of regret for old, dead loves. Her
highest level, we think, is reached in ‘Tokio Snow’--a beautiful
fancy expressed in stanzas which have a curious but very successful
rhyme-scheme, and ‘Human Love,’ an impressive moment of spiritual
reflection on the theme ‘Amantium irae.’”--_The Times._
W. HEINEMANN. 3/6 net.
Women’s Printing Soc., Ltd., Brick St., Piccadilly, W.1.
* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
The following apparent errors have been corrected:
p. 10 "GORDON Stop" changed to "GORDON. Stop"
p. 30 "Iv’e" changed to "I’ve"
p. 34 "blazing" changed to "blazing.)"
p. 42 "anquished" changed to "anguished"
p. 51 "ingenius" changed to "ingenious"
p. 72 "stuft" changed to "stuff"
p. 75 "luovely" changed to "lovely"
p. 85 "VARLIE-CHAPMAN (_Calmly._)" changed to "VARLIE-CHAPMAN.
(_Calmly._)"
The following are used inconsistently in the text:
now-a-days and nowadays