SCENE.--_ALMA BLAKE'S apartments. An octagonal room, being a sort of
boudoir, furnished and draped in the extreme of artistic luxury. Doors
R. and L. A number of bouquets about the room. Photographs,
knick-knacks everywhere. Window C. TOM'S picture of the knights on the
wall, R._
_Enter SUSAN, L.C. with a bouquet._
SUSAN. Another of 'em! Who's this from, I wonder? (_reads card
attached_) From Sir George Greenfield. We shall have enough to stock
Covent Garden directly. (_Enter ALMA, R.C., in a morning wrapper, with
her hair loosely arranged_) Another bouquet! (_gives it to ALMA; goes
up back_)
ALMA. (_looks at card carelessly_) Oh! (_tosses the bouquet amongst
the rest_) No letter from the theatre?
SUSAN. No, miss.
ALMA. It's very strange.
SUSAN. Did you expect one?
ALMA. Yes, from Mr. Dick. Before I play in the new piece----
SUSAN. In Mr. Chetwynd's piece?
ALMA. I must have better terms. I asked five pounds a week advance,
and Dick wouldn't hear of it; so last night I gave him notice.
SUSAN. You're going to leave?
ALMA. Not I! (_crosses to sofa_) But that's the only way to deal with
Dick. I ought to have had a letter by this time giving me my terms.
SUSAN. Perhaps Mr. Dick 'll call.
ALMA. Perhaps. I don't care. (_drops on sofa_) Oh, dear! (_leans her
head on her hands; slight pause; SUSAN arranges the bouquet_) How did
I look last night?
SUSAN. (_coming down to back of table_) Your very best.
ALMA. How did I play?
SUSAN. Better than ever, I think. (_goes up and arranges bouquet;
another pause_)
ALMA. Susan, have you ever been in love?
SUSAN. La, miss, a dozen times! Haven't you?
ALMA. Only once.
SUSAN. Well, I _am_ surprised.
ALMA. And that was with my husband.
SUSAN. Gracious me! (_comes down to back of table_)
ALMA. He was in front last night.
SUSAN. Your husband, miss! I didn't know you had a husband.
ALMA. We all have husbands--on the stage.
SUSAN. You keep 'em very quiet.
ALMA. Best thing we can do, with most of 'em! My husband painted that.
(_pointing to picture, R._)
SUSAN. The picture Mr. Chetwynd gave you?
ALMA. Yes.
SUSAN. Don't you and your husband speak, miss?
ALMA. I hadn't seen him for six years, until three months ago; when we
met accidentally.
SUSAN. And didn't he speak _then?_
ALMA. Not twenty words. I might have been a stranger. (_half to
herself_) When those we would forgive won't let us forgive them, what
are we to do?
SUSAN. Whatever we like; _I_ should! Would you be friends with him?
ALMA. I thought not. I thought I had forgotten him. But when I saw him
standing by my side, and heard his voice, oh, you don't know how the
old time came back to me, and how I longed for the old home. (_a ring
below_)
SUSAN. There's the bell, miss. (_Exit, L.C._)
ALMA. And is it never to be mine again? Is he to go out of my life
forever? Or if he meets me, is it to be as a stranger? Is he to sit
near me, and never speak to me? Am I, who once was everything to him,
to be nothing? (_rises; crosses to table_) No, oh, no! He is a man,
and he can bear it; I'm only a woman, and I can't. My pride has all
gone--gone, I don't know where! Six years of loneliness have used it
up. I don't care who was right--I don't care who was wrong--I want him
back again. (_sits L. of table_)
_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C., with NED._
NED. Good morning. (_Exit SUSAN, L.C._)
ALMA. (_rising_) Ned! What brings you here so early?
NED. What's this I hear from Dick? He says you've given him notice.
ALMA. So I have.
NED. Then who's to play your part?
ALMA. Oh, there are lots of women.
NED. Only one Alma Blake.
ALMA. I'm very sorry, for your sake.
NED. If, now my piece is really coming out, after all these
postponements, you refuse to play in it, you can't be sorry for me,
Miss Blake.
ALMA. Miss Blake?
NED. Yes, Miss Blake. It was Miss Blake that spoke--it's Miss Blake
who's thrown up her part--but it's Alma who's going to play.
ALMA. Don't make too sure of that. (_crosses R._)
NED. You don't consider my feelings in the least. Do you suppose it's
all the same to me who speaks my lines?
ALMA. You'll get them better spoken, I daresay.
NED. Very well--someone else _shall_ speak them. (_crosses to C._)
ALMA. No, they shan't.
NED. You'll play the part, after all! (_puts hat and stick down on
chair, L. of table_)
ALMA. I meant to play it all the time, you goose! I've no idea of
leaving Dick. I only want five pounds a week more salary.
NED. That's a weight off my mind. (_crosses to sofa; sits_) You can't
believe how sensitive I am about this play. It is the only link
between me and my wife. I sometimes think that if she saw it it might
bring her back to me. That is the reason I'm so anxious about it.
ALMA. Of course, she'd recognise the letter.
NED. What can have become of her?
ALMA. Nothing been heard yet?
NED. Not since she was traced to Leeds; there the clue was lost.
ALMA. Did she know anybody there?
NED. Not that I know of. What is she doing? What can she be living on?
Alma, it drives me nearly mad sometimes. (_rises; gets back, L._)
_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C., with DICK._
SUSAN. Here's Mr. Dick, miss. (_Exit, L.C._)
ALMA. Oh, you've come at last!
DICK. Did you expect me? (_puts hat on sofa_)
ALMA. To be sure I did! Brought the engagement with you?
DICK. What engagement?
ALMA. Five pounds a week more salary.
DICK. Five fiddlesticks!
ALMA. What have you come for, then?
DICK. Two minutes' conversation.
ALMA. You shall have ten. Sit down.
DICK. Don't want ten. Two's enough. (_produces a letter_) Horrible
hand you write. It took me half-an-hour to make it out.
ALMA. I'm sure it's plain enough.
DICK. Well, it's not pretty.
ALMA. You don't waste time in compliments.
DICK. No time to waste. You've given me notice.
ALMA. Yes, a fortnight's notice.
DICK. Oh, it's quite regular.
ALMA. Well?
DICK. I accept it.
ALMA.}
What?
NED.}
DICK. (_turns up stage_) I'm obliged to you for giving me the chance.
ALMA. You'll let me leave?
DICK. The sooner, the better.
ALMA. What are you going to do?
DICK. That's _my_ business.
ALMA. Whom are you going to get?
DICK. Pooh! There are lots of actresses.
NED. But you won't get another Alma Blake.
DICK. Gad, I hope not.
ALMA. Mr. Dick, have you come here to insult me?
DICK. No time to insult people.
ALMA. Say what you've come for, then.
DICK. Your part in the new piece.
ALMA. For someone else to study!
DICK. Look alive!
ALMA. If I refuse?
DICK. You can't. You've given me notice.
ALMA. If I withdraw my notice?
DICK. Too late. Hand over the part.
ALMA. I shan't hand it over!
DICK. Won't you? (_puts hat on_) Good morning. (_goes up to door,
L.C._)
ALMA. Where are you going? (_following DICK up_)
DICK. Police-court.
ALMA. What for?
DICK. Summons--unlawfully detaining property. (_pause--they confront
each other_)
ALMA. I'll get the part. (_Exit, R.C._)
DICK. (_coming down, C._) I thought she would. I've scored this time.
NED. Have you considered what you're doing, Dick?
DICK. (_winks_) Do you suppose I should talk in that way if I hadn't
found another woman? Catch a weazel!
NED. Of course, I didn't know that.
DICK. Blake did; saw it at a glance. That was what knocked her over.
Clever woman! She'll be a loss. (_hat on sofa_)
NED. Irreparable.
DICK. Nothing's irreparable in the female line. (_crosses to R._)
NED. Who is the other lady?
DICK. Miss Ruth Carlton.
NED. Never heard of her.
DICK. Comes from the country.
NED. Not an amateur!
DICK. Jackson, of Huddersfield, tells me she's a wonder--a perfect
genius for domestic drama.
NED. How is it he didn't keep her in Huddersfield? (_goes up, L._)
DICK. She _would_ come up to town. "Private affairs." We all know what
that means. Got a good-for-nothing husband somewhere, and wants to
find him.
NED. Is she in town now?
DICK. She's taken lodgings in this very house.
NED. That creature on the ground-floor?
DICK. Ground-floor? No! Where are the geniuses always? In the attic.
(_points up; crosses to L._)
NED. Strange! (_crosses at back to R._)
DICK. What's strange? (_sits on sofa_)
NED. That she has chosen this house of all others.
DICK. It's a theatrical place. I recommended it to Blake--Jackson
recommended it to Carlton. What is there strange about that?
NED. Nothing, when it's explained; but it did seem a curious
coincidence.
DICK. Call that a coincidence? You should have seen my last comedy.
Sparkle's the man for coincidences.
NED. Have you been up to see her?
DICK. Just come down. Engagement signed this morning. Splendid terms!
NED. For Miss Carlton?
DICK. For Carlton? No--for me.
NED. What's she like?
DICK. Very pretty girl--rather washed out, but she'll be all right at
night. Fancy I've seen her face before somewhere; but then, I see so
many faces--soon forget 'em. Good thing, too; great blessing to forget
some faces. (_rises; takes hat_) Well, I can't wait all day. Tell
Blake I couldn't stop. You bring the part on to the theatre. (_going
off, L.C.; stops; puts on hat_)
NED. All right.
DICK. On second thoughts--(_coming down; chuckles_)--tell her to send
it to the girl upstairs. That'll take it out of her. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
She thought she'd get a rise out of _me;_ but I've taken a rise out of
_her._ (_Exit, L.C._)
NED. (_sits R. of table_) Another disappointment. I write a part for
Alma to create, and it's to be murdered by an amateur! What does it
matter? Pshaw! I hate the play! But for it Lucy wouldn't have left me.
If it should be a big success, she isn't here to share it.
_Re-enter ALMA, R., with part._
ALMA. (_crosses to sofa_) Here's the part. (_looks round_) What's
become of Dick?
NED. Mr. Dick said he couldn't wait all day. You are to send the part
to your successor, Miss Ruth Carlton.
ALMA. (_sits on sofa_) I send the part? Does he imagine I'm the
Parcels Post!
NED. You won't have to send it far. Miss Carlton's living in this very
house.
ALMA. Which floor?
NED. The attic.
ALMA. (_rises; crosses to NED_) That child play my part?
NED. (_rises_) You've seen her?
ALMA. No; I heard all about her from the landlady. She's been here a
week, and never left her room. I'd half a mind to ask her down here
for a change of scene, but I shan't now. (_crosses to L._)
NED. (_crosses to ALMA_) Shall I take the part up to her?
ALMA. Let her come down and fetch it.
NED. You said she shouldn't.
ALMA. But I say she shall.
NED. You've changed your mind very quickly.
ALMA. It's my own mind; I can do what I like with it, I suppose. I'm
not the only changeable person in the world. I know an author who once
said he'd written a part specially for me, that I was the only person
who _could_ play it, and that I was the only person who should play
it; because he thought I was the only person who _would_ play it: and
now he's found another woman, it's all off. He wants to take the part
out of my hands and put it into hers; and a nice mess she'll make of
it, and I hope she will. (_goes round sofa, and up to back_)
NED. (_crosses to L.C._) How do you know she can't play the part?
ALMA. (_following NED, L._) Because there's only one woman on the
stage who can--and that's me. That's how I know it; and when your
piece is damned, and they shy bricks at you, you'll know it too. Here,
take your part, and take your play, and take your hat, and take your
stick, and get out of my room. (_thrusting the things on him_)
NED. (_going up_) I'll take it to Miss Carlton.
ALMA. (_stopping him; snatches part back; removes his hat and stick,
and bumps him down on sofa_) No, you won't. I tell you she can't play
it! What's more, she _shan't_ play it. (_tucking it under her arm, and
taking stage R._) This part was written for Miss Alma Blake, and no
one but Miss Alma Blake shall touch it! (_crosses R._)
NED. (_rising; crosses to ALMA, overjoyed_) You've changed your mind
again.
ALMA. That's only twice. I've changed it twenty times in less time
before now--(_crosses to NED_)--and I shall change it fifty if I like!
Why shouldn't I change my mind? If you had such a nasty, horrid,
cantankerous mind as I've had for the last five minutes, shouldn't you
be precious _glad_ to change it?
NED. I'm only too delighted.
ALMA. So am I.
NED. Alma!
ALMA. It's "Alma" now!
NED. Yes--the old Alma!
ALMA. I'm not middle-aged. You'll make me out a grandmother directly,
and say Miss Carlton is my granddaughter. Miss Carlton! Who's Miss
Carlton?
NED. Here, keep the part and never mind Miss Carlton. I'll tell
Dick----
ALMA. No! Stop! Not a word! Now, don't you interfere between me and my
manager. I shall turn up at rehearsal just as usual.
NED. But Dick----
ALMA. Bother Dick!
NED. All right, bother him; he's bothered _me_ enough! But how are you
to get over your notice?
ALMA. Ignore it altogether--say nothing about it.
NED. But suppose _Dick_ says----
ALMA. Tell him he dreamt it.
NED. But if he shows your letter?
ALMA. Tear it to pieces--laugh at him! Oh, I know how to manage Dick.
Leave that to me. This happens once a week. (_crosses to R._ )
NED. (_getting hat and stick_) Then I shall see you at rehearsal?
ALMA. Yes. (_crosses to table_)
NED. Good-bye----
ALMA. Send Susan up to me.
NED. And thank you very much. (_Exit, L.C._)
ALMA. (_sits L. of table; leaves part on table_) Dick took it out of
me this morning; I must take it out of him this afternoon. He wouldn't
give me five pounds a week more. All right. He'll have to give me ten.
Mr. Dick must be taught his position. (_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C._) Susan,
the brush and comb, and brush out my hair. (_Exit SUSAN, R.C._) Susan,
bring the powder-puff. Susan, the powder-puff. (_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C.,
with brush and comb_) Susan, have you seen that girl in the attic?
SUSAN. (_back of table_) No, miss; but Mrs. Pritchard says she looks
so ill, and never eats a morsel. She wishes you would speak to her;
she seems so lonely.
ALMA. Do you mean Miss Carlton?
SUSAN. Yes. Mrs. Pritchard thinks----
ALMA. Never mind what Mrs. Pritchard thinks!
SUSAN. She says she's always crying.
ALMA. What do I care what Mrs. Pritchard says? I asked you if you'd
seen her.
SUSAN. No, Miss Blake.
ALMA. Then go and see her now.
SUSAN. Yes, Miss Blake.
ALMA. I'll do my hair myself. Don't mention any name--Mr. Dick's given
her my part to play, and she mightn't care to see me. Say that the
lady on the first floor wants to speak to her on business connected
with the theatre.
SUSAN. Yes, Miss Blake. (_crosses at back to L.C._)
ALMA. Bring her down with you.
SUSAN. If she'll come, I will.
ALMA. (_turns_) Bring her down with you, whether she'll come or not,
or take a month's warning. (_SUSAN laughs_) What are you laughing at?
SUSAN. That's the third time to-day you've given me warning.
ALMA. (_lifting hair-brush_) I'll give you something else, if you're
not quick. (_Exit SUSAN, L.C._) I feel quite curious to see this girl
Dick thinks is good enough to play my part. Some greenhorn at a pound
or two a week, or Dick wouldn't have engaged her. No, she can't be a
greenhorn. She doesn't eat: greenhorns do. And what did Susan say?
She's always crying. Humph! She must be married. The old tale, I
suppose. And yet people go on getting married. (_rises; looks for
puff_) It's a funny world. What has that Susan done with the
powder-puff? Hang the girl! I'll give her warning again as soon as
she comes down. If I had a husband, I believe I should give _him_
warning to-day. Brutes, all of 'em. (_Exit, R.C._)
SUSAN. (_outside_) Mind how you turn the corner, they're such awkward
stairs, and it's so dark up here. This is the way. Take a seat,
please.
_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C., followed by LUCY._
LUCY. (_sits sofa_) You're very kind. (_looking full at Susan;
starts_)
SUSAN. If it's not----
LUCY. Susan!
SUSAN. Mrs. Chetwynd!
LUCY. Hush! What are you doing here?
SUSAN. We live here, m'm.
LUCY. We! Who? (_Re-enter ALMA, R.C., with powder-puff_) Who sent for
me? (_rises_)
ALMA. I sent for you, Miss Carlton. (_puffing her face_)
LUCY. Mrs. Blake! (_ALMA drops hand, then turns and signals SUSAN to
go. Exit SUSAN, running, L.C._) I didn't know who you were or I should
not have come. What can you want with me?
ALMA. (_crosses to LUCY_) To tell the truth, I didn't know it _was_
you when I sent for you. I thought it was only somebody who had been
trying to supplant me in my business.
LUCY. And if I had, it would only be just. Haven't you supplanted me
in my home?
ALMA. It wasn't my fault that you left your home. You left because you
were suspicious of your husband.
LUCY. I had reason to be.
ALMA. Oh, probably enough! Men are a bad lot, and he's one of them.
LUCY. Ned wasn't bad!
ALMA. Why did you leave him then? (_turning on her quickly_) You love
him? (_thrusting her on sofa, and kneeling down beside her_) Yes, you
do, or you wouldn't resent the way I spoke of him; and loving him, you
should have trusted him.
LUCY. To be deceived!
ALMA. Better to trust and be deceived, than to suspect and deceive
_yourself_. You're a fond, foolish girl, who've done your best to
wreck your own life and your husband's too. You've done me a great
wrong, and now I'm going to have my revenge.
LUCY. What wrong have I done _you?_
ALMA. You think I love your husband, but I don't. I never loved any
man but one--my own. You think your husband loves _me,_ but he
doesn't. Nobody loves me--not even my own.
LUCY. You say so.
ALMA. I will prove it. You think I am your enemy, but I'm your best
friend. I'll show you, you have done me an injustice, and for my
revenge--(_rises_)--I'll give you back your husband, and forgive you.
LUCY. (_rises_) Ned wrote a letter to you.
ALMA. (_at table_) I never received it.
LUCY. Never received it! When I heard you reading it!
ALMA. You heard me!
LUCY. The very words are ringing in my ears, and always will be! "My
own dearest Alma!"
ALMA. (_reading from part_) "At last I have a moment to myself----"
LUCY. You said you never received it. You have it there?
ALMA. I have no letter here.
LUCY. What are you reading, then?
ALMA. My part in the new piece.
LUCY. Those were Ned's very words!
ALMA. (_quietly_) It is your husband's play. (_pause_)
LUCY. That letter's in the play? (_snatches part from ALMA_) But
"Alma"!
ALMA. Was the heroine. (_LUCY drops the part; stands for a moment as
if dazed; then drops her head and falls in ALMA'S arms_)
_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C._
SUSAN. Another visitor!
ALMA. (_sharply_) I can see nobody!
SUSAN. But he's coming up.
LUCY. (_trying to walk_) Let me go first! I can't bear to see anyone.
ALMA. Put Mrs. Chetwynd in my room. When you feel stronger, I will
talk to you.
SUSAN. (_leading LUCY off_) I'm very sorry!
ALMA. Take another warning! (_picks up puff. Exeunt SUSAN and LUCY,
R.C._) Was ever anything so inopportune! (_puffing her face
vigorously. Enter SIR HUMPHREY, L.C._) Sir Humphrey! Is it you?
(_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY; comes down with him_) How kind of you to
come and see me!
SIR H. I have come to ask you to see someone else, Mrs. Blake.
ALMA. Anyone you like, of course.
SIR H. Even your husband?
ALMA. Tom! (_leans on chair_)
SIR H. I've brought him with me. Once I said I might be of service to
you; and I can now, if you will see him.
ALMA. (_leaving chair_) What's the use? When last he saw me he would
scarcely speak to me.
SIR H. But I have seen him very often since. I have been thinking a
great deal of what you told me, and of what he has told me recently,
and I should like to speak to both of you together.
ALMA. As you please.
_Re-enter SUSAN, R.C._
SIR H. Ask Mr. Potter to come here. (_to SUSAN_)
SUSAN. Yes, sir. (_Exit, L.C._)
SIR H. One favour more. If you have kept the portion of the letter you
last wrote to him, will you entrust me with it?
ALMA. I will bring it you.
SIR H. I don't think you'll regret the confidence. (_puts hat and
gloves down. Exit ALMA, R.C._) How shall I put it to them? (_pacing up
and down, his eyes fall on the picture, R._) What's that? His picture!
Ah! the very thing! (_Enter TOM, L.C._) Come in, your wife will see
you.
TOM. Very well. But I don't know what purpose it will serve. It's only
my respect for you that brings me.
SIR H. Tom, do you recognise that picture?
TOM. (_surprised_) It's my stupid knights!
SIR H. Ned gave it Mrs. Blake. You know the story?
TOM. Didn't I tell it _you?_
SIR H. Yet, you've not learnt its lesson. After you left my house so
suddenly, upon your recognition of your wife, I wouldn't meet you. I
was like those knights. I didn't see what purpose it would serve. But
I was wrong.
TOM. As _I_ am now. You're right. Thank you for bringing me, whatever
comes of it.
SIR H. You have your portion of that letter?
TOM. (_putting hat down on sofa_) Here it is. (_gives it to SIR
HUMPHREY. Re-enter ALMA, R.C. SIR HUMPHREY goes to meet her, and takes
from her the paper in her hand--then leads her near to TOM, and takes
his place between them, glancing meanwhile over the note_)
SIR H. Mrs. Blake, I was just reminding Mr. Potter of an old fable you
may perhaps have heard. Once on a time there were two knights who
fought about a certain silver shield. Silver, as one called it--the
other called it gold. When they had killed each other, so the story
runs, it was discovered both of them were right, and, at the same
time, both of them were wrong. The shield was gold on one side, silver
on the other. Years afterwards the spirits of those knights revisited
the earth. They took the form, the one of a young husband, and the
other of his wife. They loved one another, but they were unhappy. The
wife was a coquette. I'm sure she meant no harm but she incurred her
husband's anger. He remonstrated with her; and the result was she
resolved to say good-bye to her admirers. She wrote to one of them to
tell him so. When she had written the first sheet she put it in her
desk; and in the middle of the next was interrupted. Her husband,
finding it, and thinking it was meant for him, left her. (_pause_) Six
years they lived apart. Each had one portion of the letter, and each
showed it to a common friend, when it occurred to this same common
friend to put the sheets together--(_does so_)--and lo! he found that
each of them was right again, and each of them again was wrong. He
took upon him to reverse the sheets--(_reverses them_)--and asked to
hear them read aloud together. (_looks at TOM_) The husband held the
first sheet, and began. (_hands ALMA'S sheet to TOM_)
TOM. (_reads_) "You will consider this a very cruel letter, but I mean
it kindly. Something has occurred to show me I've been acting very
foolishly, and deceiving both my husband and you. You may think me
heartless and fickle; but I haven't really changed. I always loved him
in my heart of hearts. I know he doesn't like me seeing you; and to
continue seeing you against his will would be like saying to----"
ALMA. (_to whom SIR HUMPHREY hands TOM'S sheet; reads_)--"Tom, I love
another more than I love you. (_pause_) Isn't it best that we should
say good-bye? I have no right to tell you I will never see you, for
the fault is mine; but if I do, it will only be painful, and I leave
it to your magnanimity to go away from me for ever."
SIR H. I have done. (_goes up and turns his back to them, deeply
moved; pause_)
TOM. And have we lost six years of this short life?
ALMA. (_crosses to TOM_) Not lost! if we have learnt to trust
appearance less, and one another more.
TOM. Is it you, Alma? Time and grief have made us almost strangers.
ALMA. But time and happiness shall make us friends.
_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C. TOM crosses to R._
SUSAN. Dr. and Mrs. Dozey.
_Enter DR. and MRS. DOZEY, L.C. Exit SUSAN, L.C._
DR. (_down L._) Being on a visit to the Metropolis, and happening to
be in the neighbourhood---- (_shakes hands_)
ALMA. Very glad to see you, doctor. How is Mrs. Dozey?
MRS. D. I owe you an apology, my dear.
ALMA. You owe me an apology! What for?
MRS. D. The months and months I thought you were a widow; when all the
time you were a respectable married woman. (_embraces ALMA, and sits
in armchair, L. of table_)
TOM. Ah! the knights again.
DR. (_crosses to TOM_) Herein we see the folly of rash judgment, and
the frailty of our flesh. The subject naturally subdivides itself----
ALMA. My husband.
TOM. How d'you do? (_takes DR. DOZEY aside_)
MRS. D. You're reconciled?
ALMA. At last.
MRS. D. Oh, how I shall enjoy a sermon after this!
_Re-enter SUSAN, L.C._
SUSAN. Mr. Dick, Mr. Chetwynd.
DICK. Come along, Chetwynd. (_down R.C. of ALMA. NED crosses to SIR
HUMPHREY. SUSAN exits, L.C._) Morning everybody. Important business.
(_puts hat on sofa_)
SIR H. Business? Then I'm afraid we're in the way. (_NED crosses L._)
ALMA. Not in the least. Don't move. If anybody's in the way it's Mr.
Dick. To what am I indebted for this intrusion?
DICK. Just been upstairs looking for Miss Carlton, and I'm told you've
been getting at her. What are you up to now? What business have you
with my leading lady?
ALMA. Miss Carlton's indisposed, and can't attend rehearsal.
DICK. Teaching her some of your own tricks already. Where's the
doctor's certificate?
ALMA. She's seriously ill, and won't be able to appear at all.
DICK. Not appear! not appear! This is your doing, to throw me over at
the eleventh hour! Someone shall pay for this!
ALMA. Yes; you shall pay for it yourself.
DICK. (_desperate_) Not appear! Who's to play the part?
ALMA. The woman it was written for! Who else?
DICK. You'll play it after all? You'll come back to me? You're not
half a bad sort, when all's said and done!
ALMA. Yes, I've decided to come back to you.
DICK. (_overjoyed_) At the old figure?
ALMA. No--(_DICK'S face falls_)--at ten pounds a week advance.
DICK. (_dismayed_) Ten! You said five last night.
ALMA. But I say ten this morning.
NED. Better accept.
ALMA. It'll be fifteen to-morrow.
NED. Give it her, Dick.
ALMA. Or I won't play the part. (_DR. DOZEY comes down, R._)
DICK. Gad, I should like to give it her! This is a conspiracy. No,
hang me if I give you ten pounds a week rise. Go to the---- (_crosses
to R.; meets DR. DOZEY_)
DR. Hem!
DICK. (_looking at DR. DOZEY_) To the Antipodes. (_to ALMA_) You've
been there once, and you can go again.
DR. Diana, I was too precipitate.
DICK. I'll find some other woman. You shan't play the part.
NED. Then you _shan't_ play my piece.
DICK. (_crosses to NED_) Shan't play your piece? _Your_ piece?
NED. My piece.
DICK. Yours, after all the alterations I've made!
NED. Well, you _have_ cut it up! (_sits head of sofa_)
DICK. Do you suppose there's only one piece in the world? My room is
full of 'em--chock full--so full I can scarcely get into it!
NED. All rubbish.
DICK. You haven't read them, sir.
NED. No more have you.
ALMA. You'd better settle, Dick.
DICK. (_crosses to C._) Be beaten by a woman? No, by jingo, no! (_puts
on hat_) I'll find some other woman. Hang it all! there are plenty of
women in the world--too many--hang _them_ all! Good morning everybody;
and may I be---- (_runs against SUSAN, who re-enters, L.C., with
telegram; he stops_)
SUSAN. Oh! (_recovering herself_) Telegram, miss.
DICK. Telegram?
ALMA. (_who's opened it_) From Baker of the Colosseum. (_DICK looks
over her while she reads_) "Hear you leave Dick. Come to me. Forty
pounds a week. Wire answer. Reply paid."
DICK. (_snatching form, crosses to chair where MRS. DOZEY is asleep;
puts his knee on elbow; wakes MRS. DOZEY_) Look here, _I'll_ answer
that. (_writes_) "Blake does _not_ leave me. _I_ pay forty-five. Mind
your own business." (_gives form to SUSAN_)
ALMA. Forty-five.
DICK. It's settled. (_they shake hands; puts hat down on table with a
bang, starting DR. and MRS. DOZEY_)
MRS. D. Dionysius?
DR. After mature deliberation, I have arrived at the conclusion that
Mr. Dick did not intend to say "Antipodes."
MRS. D. I don't believe he did. (_ALMA leaves DICK and goes to SUSAN,
to whom she gives instructions in dumb show, leading her R. TOM
approaches DICK, who's dropped on sofa, wiping his forehead_)
TOM. You got the worst of that, sir?
DICK. No, I didn't. I never get the worst of anything. If she had
played her cards well I'd have given her fifty.
TOM. Fifty?
DICK. She's worth it.
TOM. Very glad to hear it. (_turns off, L._)
DICK. (_to himself, half following TOM_) Why is he glad to hear it?
(_aside to SIR HUMPHREY_) I say, who is that?
SIR H. Mrs. Blake's husband.
DICK. (_drops on to seat, C., at R. back_) He'll tell her! He's
telling her. (_TOM and ALMA laugh over it across the sofa_) No matter.
(_coming down, C.; addressing ALMA_) I'll take it out of you. I'll
change the bill continually. You shall have rehearsals morning, noon,
and night. (_Exit SUSAN, R.C._)
NED. (_down, L._) Oh, no, you won't. You haven't plays enough.
DICK. Soon get 'em. Sparkle shall set his type-writer to work, and you
must set your wits. I'll give you a wholesale order.
NED. I'm a slow worker; I'm afraid I couldn't execute it.
ALMA. Why not? What's the difficulty?
NED. I can't think of a plot.
ALMA. I'll give you one.
SIR H. (_coming down_) You, Miss Blake! (_DICK laughs_)
ALMA. (_to DICK_) What are you laughing at?
DICK. (_sitting down at back, L.C._) Your plot. A nice old hash up
it'll be.
ALMA. You haven't heard it.
DICK. Don't want to hear it. All been done before!
SIR H. It'll be new to us, at any rate.
ALMA. Sir Humphrey, sit down. (_SIR HUMPHREY sits at back of table_)
Doctor, you shall be my audience.
DR. (_rising; also MRS. DOZEY_) Pardon me, but it is against my
principles.
ALMA. Did I say audience? I meant congregation.
MRS. D. (_sits_) Ah! (_goes to sleep_)
DR. That removes my scruples. There is no evil in an audience,
regarded in the aspect of a congregation. (_sits_)
ALMA. Don't make yourself too comfortable, Ned. I shall want you to
play a leading part. Dick, you shall be the front row of the pit.
(_DICK brings chair down, C. Re-enter SUSAN, R.C._) And here comes
Susan, just in time to be the prompter. Ready? (_sits on sofa_)
Curtain up. Hero and heroine, a young married couple. They're very
fond of one another--very happy. So the play opens brightly.
DICK. Wife working slippers--husband smoking--embraces--footstool
business--the old fake--told you so.
ALMA. The husband is an author, like Mr. Chetwynd; and as the act
progresses, his wife grows rather jealous.
DICK. Quite a new motive, isn't it? Only been done about a thousand
times.
DR. (_rises; looks at DICK, who turns away_) These interruptions are
distracting. (_sits_)
MRS. D. (_wakes_) Silence! (_goes to sleep again_)
SIR H. Please go on.
ALMA. He is at work upon a play, in which a faithless lover is a
leading character.
NED. That is _my_ play!
DICK. Of course it is! I knew Blake couldn't be original.
ALMA. The lover writes to tell his second love how much better he
likes her than his first, and the sheet of paper on which the letter
is written, the author, in the old untidy way, leaves lying about the
house.
DICK. It's all been done! Wife finds the letter--thinks it's
genuine--and leaves home to slow music.
ALMA. End of Act the first.
DICK. (_rises_) And a nice fine old crusted situation that is to ring
down on.
DR. (_rises_) It is a drawback to interpolations that they interrupt
the argument and distract the attention. (_business with DICK repeat;
sits_)
SIR H. Never mind Mr. Dick. Come to the second act. (_NED listens
eagerly_)
ALMA. The wife goes on the stage.
DICK. What manager would take her?
ALMA. Probably some old curmudgeon who'd just refused his leading lady
a few pounds. (_DICK turns from her; meets DR. DOZEY looking at him on
the other side, then back again_)
DICK. Go on--go on--we're waiting.
ALMA. Well, in course of time, a certain part is given her; and in the
part she finds the letter she'd misunderstood.
TOM. It is her husband's play!
NED. (_much excited_) _My_ play!
SIR H. Yours! (_beginning to understand_)
ALMA. (_rises_) Act the third. (_turns to SUSAN_) Prompter, you'd
better call the heroine. (_rises. SUSAN opens door, R._)
NED. (_rising_) Go on!
ALMA. One day she meets a certain actress----
NED. You!
ALMA. Who lives in the same house----
DICK. (_rises; gets down, R.C._) Hallo! here's something new.
ALMA. Who knows her husband, and who tells the story. He stands
aghast--his wife is at the door--they are about to meet--she only
waits her cue. Her cue is her own name. Her name is---- (_SUSAN
signals to LUCY, R.C._)
NED. Lucy! (_rushes to meet her_)
_Re-enter LUCY, R.C._
LUCY. Ned! (_running into his arms; all rise except MRS. DOZEY_)
ALMA. Tableau!
DICK. (_as if signalling the flies_) Ring!
ALMA. Curtain!
CURTAIN.
Transcriber's Note
This transcription is based on scanned images posted by Google from a
copy from the Harvard library:
nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.FIG:002663452
Note that the Google scans are included in a set of four Sydney Grundy
plays published by Samuel French posted under the title of the first
play in the set, _A Fool's Paradise._ Based on how the Harvard Library
catalogs the individual copies, I assume Google combined the different
scans into a single document. _The Silver Shield_ is the fourth play
in the set.
French's Acting Editions from the nineteenth century tend to have
minor editorial inconsistencies and errors as well as errors
introduced in the printing process, depending on the condition and
inking of the plates. Thus, for example, it is at times difficult to
determine whether a certain letter is an "c," "e," or "o" or whether a
certain punctuation mark is a period or a comma. Where context made
the choice obvious, the obvious reading was given the benefit of the
doubt without comment.
The following changes were noted:
- Throughout the text, all instances of "and" between character names
in stage directions are consistently italicized and in lower case.
- Throughout the text, all instances of "L.C." and "R.C." have been
made consistent so that there is no space between them.
- Throughout the text, the use of dashes has been made consistent.
- p. 3: Can't you see the likeness--Added a question mark to the end
of the sentence.
- p. 5: ...to bear the purring cat...--Changed "bear" to "hear".
- p. 9: (_arranges hersel before the glass_)--Changed "hersel" to
"herself".
- p. 9: graually gets round, and down--Changed "graually" to
"gradually".
- p. 12: Scrubbs is the man for skies, --Changed comma after "skies"
to a period.
- p. 13: What nonsense I never met you...--Added an exclamation mark
after "nonsense".
- p. 14: ...should have said nothing, We don't...--Changed comma to a
period.
- p. 16: (_embraces Dr. DOZEY, while ALMA shakes..._--Changed "Dr." to
small caps in html version or all caps in text version.
- p. 18: What's the matter, Mrs. DOZEY?--Changed small caps in
printing of "Dozey" to initial cap.
- p. 19: I believe you're smitten Men are all alike.--Added period
after "smitten".
- p. 23: _LUCY sits R._--Added a comma after "sits" in space that
appeared to be left for one.
- p. 30: I don't read plays, sir; I produce em.--Added an apostrophe
before "em".
- p. 32: You may--you may It's quite a relief to hear a little bad
language.--Added a period between "may" and "It's".
- p. 38: (_Exit through window off, L._) _SERVANT closes
window..._--Deleted closing parenthesis after "L.".
- p. 39: MRS. D. It' an elopement!--Added an "s" after the apostrophe.
- p. 42: you can t be sorry for me, Miss Blake.--Added an apostrophe
between "can" and "t".
- p. 47: Say that the lady on the first floor wants t speak to her on
business...--Changed "t" to "to".
- p. 51: I have no right to tell you I will; never see you...--Deleted
semicolon.
- p. 54: DR. (_rising: also MRS. DOZEY_)--Changed colon to semicolon
for consistency.
Variant spellings such as "bran new" and "weazel" were not changed.
The html version of this etext attempts to reproduce the layout of the
printed text. However, some concessions have been made. For example,
the spacing above and below the stage directions has been
standardized, and in the stage directions, no attempt was made to
reproduce whether the punctuation was italicized. Thus, if a
punctuation mark was adjacent to an html <span> tag, it was included
within the <span> group. This prevents line breaks in the display text
of some ereaders right before the punctuation mark.