dear? He makes jokes about serious things--like bishops and
hunting--just as if they weren't at all serious.
CRAWSHAW. I wish to talk to him just to obtain a new--ah--point of
view. I do not hold myself in the least bound to act on anything he
says. I regard him as a constituent, Margaret.
MARGARET. Then I will send him to you.
CRAWSHAW [_putting his hands on her shoulders_]. Margaret, what do you
really feel about it?
MARGARET. Just whatever _you_ feel, Robert.
CRAWSHAW [_kissing her_]. Thank you, Margaret; you are a good wife to
me. [_She goes out. CRAWSHAW goes to his desk and selects a "Who's
Who" from a little pile of reference-books on it. He walks round to
his chair, sits down in it and begins to turn the pages, murmuring
names beginning with "C" to himself as he gets near the place. When he
finds it, he murmurs "Clifton--that's funny" and closes the book.
Evidently the publishers have failed him._]
_Enter RICHARD._
RICHARD. Well, what's the news? [_He goes to his old seat on the
fender._] Been left a fortune?
CRAWSHAW [_simply_]. Yes.... By a Mr. Antony Clifton. I never met him
and I know nothing about him.
RICHARD [_surprised_]. Not really? Well, I congratulate you. [_He
sighs._] To them that hath--But what on earth do you want my advice
about?
CRAWSHAW. There is a slight condition attached.
RICHARD. Oho!
CRAWSHAW. The condition is that with this money--fifty thousand
pounds--I take the name of--ah--Wurzel-Flummery.
RICHARD [_jumping up_]. What!
CRAWSHAW [_sulkily_]. I said it quite distinctly--Wurzel-Flummery.
[_RICHARD in an awed silence walks over to the desk and stands looking
down at the unhappy CRAWSHAW. He throws out his left hand as if
introducing him._]
RICHARD [_reverently_]. Mr. Robert Wurzel-Flummery, M.P., one of the
most prominent of our younger Parliamentarians. Oh, you ... oh!... oh,
how too heavenly! [_He goes back to his seat, looks up and catches
CRAWSHAW's eye, and breaks down altogether._]
CRAWSHAW [_rising with dignity_]. Shall we discuss it seriously, or
shall we leave it?
RICHARD. How can we discuss a name like Wurzel-Flummery seriously?
"Mr. Wurzel-Flummery in a few well-chosen words seconded the motion."
... "'Sir,' went on Mr. Wurzel-Flummery"--Oh, poor Robert!
CRAWSHAW [_sitting down sulkily_]. You seem quite certain that I shall
take the money.
RICHARD. I am quite certain.
CRAWSHAW. Would _you_ take it?
RICHARD [_hesitating_]. Well--I wonder.
CRAWSHAW. After all, as William Shakespeare says, "What's in a name?"
RICHARD. I can tell you something else that Shakespeare--_William_
Shakespeare--said. [_Dramatically rising._] Who steals my purse with
fifty thousand in it--steals trash. [_In his natural voice._] Trash,
Robert. [_Dramatically again._] But he who filches from me my good
name of Crawshaw [_lightly_] and substitutes the rotten one of
Wurzel--
CRAWSHAW [_annoyed_]. As a matter of fact, Wurzel-Flummery is a very
good old name. I seem to remember some--ah--Hampshire Wurzel-Flummeries.
It is a very laudable spirit on the part of a dying man to wish
to--ah--perpetuate these old English names. It all seems to me quite
natural and straightforward. If I take this money I shall have nothing
to be ashamed of.
RICHARD. I see.... Look here, may I ask you a few questions? I should
like to know just how you feel about the whole business?
CRAWSHAW [_complacently folding his hands_]. Go ahead.
RICHARD. Suppose a stranger came up in the street to you and said, "My
poor man, here's five pounds for you," what would you do? Tell him to
go to the devil, I suppose, wouldn't you?
CRAWSHAW [_humorously_]. In more parliamentary language, perhaps,
Richard. I should tell him I never took money from strangers.
RICHARD. Quite so; but that if it were ten thousand pounds, you would
take it?
CRAWSHAW. I most certainly shouldn't.
RICHARD. But if he died and left it to you, _then_ you would?
CRAWSHAW [_blandly_]. Ah, I thought you were leading up to that. That,
of course, is entirely different.
RICHARD. Why?
CRAWSHAW. Well--ah--wouldn't _you_ take ten thousand pounds if it were
left to you by a stranger?
RICHARD. I daresay I should. But I should like to know why it would
seem different.
CRAWSHAW [_professionally_]. Ha--hum! Well--in the first place, when a
man is dead he wants his money no longer. You can therefore be certain
that you are not taking anything from him which he cannot spare. And
in the next place, it is the man's dying wish that you should have the
money. To refuse would be to refuse the dead. To accept becomes almost
a sacred duty.
RICHARD. It really comes to this, doesn't it? You won't take it from
him when he's alive, because if you did, you couldn't decently refuse
him a little gratitude; but you know that it doesn't matter a damn to
him what happens to his money after he's dead, and therefore you can
take it without feeling any gratitude at all.
CRAWSHAW. No, I shouldn't put it like that.
RICHARD [_smiling_]. I'm sure you wouldn't, Robert.
CRAWSHAW. No doubt you can twist it about so that--
RICHARD. All right, we'll leave that and go on to the next point.
Suppose a perfect stranger offered you five pounds to part your hair
down the middle, shave off your mustache, and wear only one
whisker--if he met you suddenly in the street, seemed to dislike your
appearance, took out a fiver and begged you to hurry off and alter
yourself--of course you'd pocket the money and go straight to your
barber's?
CRAWSHAW. Now you are merely being offensive.
RICHARD. I beg your pardon. I should have said that if he had left you
five pounds in his will?--well, then twenty pounds?--a hundred
pounds?--a thousand pounds?--fifty thousand pounds?--[_Jumping up
excitedly._] It's only a question of price--fifty thousand pounds,
Robert--a pink tie with purple spots, hair parted across the back,
trousers with a patch in the seat, call myself Wurzel-Flummery--any
old thing you like, you can't insult me--anything you like, gentlemen,
for fifty thousand pounds. [_Lowering his voice._] Only you must leave
it in your will, and then I can feel that it is a sacred duty--a
sacred duty, my lords and gentlemen. [_He sinks back into the sofa and
relights his pipe._]
CRAWSHAW [_rising with dignity_]. It is evidently useless to prolong
this conversation.
RICHARD [_waving him down again_]. No, no, Robert; I've finished. I
just took the other side--and I got carried away. I ought to have been
at the Bar.
CRAWSHAW. You take such extraordinary views of things. You must look
facts in the face, Richard. This is a modern world, and we are modern
people living in it. Take the matter-of-fact view. You may like or
dislike the name of--ah--Wurzel-Flummery, but you can't get away from
the fact that fifty thousand pounds is not to be sneezed at.
RICHARD [_wistfully_]. I don't know why people shouldn't sneeze at
money sometimes. I should like to start a society for sneezing at
fifty thousand pounds. We'd have to begin in a small way, of course;
we'd begin by sneezing at five pounds--and work up.... The trouble is
that we're all inoculated in our cradles against that kind of cold.
CRAWSHAW [_pleasantly_]. You will have your little joke. But you know
as well as I do that it is only a joke. There can be no serious reason
why I should not take this money. And I--ah--gather that you don't
think it will affect my career?
RICHARD [_carelessly_]. Not a bit. It'll help it. It'll get you into
all the comic papers.
MARGARET _comes in at this moment, to the relief of CRAWSHAW, who is
not quite certain if he is being flattered or insulted again._
MARGARET. Well, have you told him?
RICHARD [_making way for her on the sofa_]. I have heard the news,
Mrs. Crawshaw. And I have told Robert my opinion that he should have
no difficulty in making the name of Wurzel-Flummery as famous as he
has already made that of Crawshaw. At any rate I hope he will.
MARGARET. How nice of you!
CRAWSHAW. Well, it's settled then. [_Looking at his watch._] This
solicitor fellow should be here soon. Perhaps, after all, we can
manage something about--Ah, Viola, did you want your mother?
_Enter VIOLA._
VIOLA. Sorry, do I interrupt a family meeting? There's Richard, so it
can't be very serious.
RICHARD. What a reputation!
CRAWSHAW. Well, it's over now.
MARGARET. Viola had better know, hadn't she?
CRAWSHAW. She'll have to know some time, of course.
VIOLA [_sitting down firmly on the sofa_]. Of course she will. So
you'd better tell her now. I knew there was something exciting going
on this morning.
CRAWSHAW [_embarrassed_]. Hum--ha--[_To MARGARET._] Perhaps you'd
better tell her, dear.
MARGARET [_simply and naturally_]. Father has come into some property,
Viola. It means changing our name unfortunately. But your father
doesn't think it will matter.
VIOLA. How thrilling! What is the name, mother?
MARGARET. Your father says it is--dear me, I shall never remember it.
CRAWSHAW [_mumbling_]. Wurzel-Flummery.
VIOLA [_after a pause_]. Dick, _you_ tell me, if nobody else will.
RICHARD. Robert said it just now.
VIOLA. That wasn't a name, was it? I thought it was just a--do say it
again, father.
CRAWSHAW [_sulkily but plainly_]. Wurzel-Flummery.
VIOLA [_surprised_]. Do you spell it like that? I mean like a wurzel
and like flummery?
RICHARD. Exactly, I believe.
VIOLA [_to herself_]. Miss Viola Wurzel-Flummery--I mean they'd have
to look at you, wouldn't they? [_Bubbling over._] Oh, Dick, what a
heavenly name! Who had it first?
RICHARD. They are an old Hampshire family--that is so, isn't it,
Robert?
CRAWSHAW [_annoyed_]. I said I thought that I remembered--Margaret,
can you find Burke there? [_She finds it, and he buries himself in the
families of the great._]
MARGARET. Well, Viola, you haven't told us how you like being Miss
Wurzel-Flummery.
VIOLA. I haven't realized myself yet, mummy. I shall have to stand in
front of my glass and tell myself who I am.
RICHARD. It's all right for _you_. You know you'll change your name
one day, and then it won't matter what you've been called before.
VIOLA [_secretly_]. H'sh! [_She smiles lovingly at him, and then says
aloud._] Oh, won't it? It's got to appear in the papers, "A marriage
has been arranged between Miss Viola Wurzel-Flummery ..." and
everybody will say, "And about time too, poor girl."
MARGARET [_to CRAWSHAW_]. Have you found it, dear?
CRAWSHAW [_resentfully_]. This is the 1912 edition.
MARGARET. Still, dear, if it's a very old family, it ought to be in by
then.
VIOLA. I don't mind how old it is; I think it's lovely. Oh, Dick, what
fun it will be being announced! Just think of the footman throwing
open the door and saying--
MAID [_announcing_]. Mr. Denis Clifton. [_There is a little natural
confusion as CLIFTON enters jauntily in his summer suiting with a
bundle of papers under his arm. CRAWSHAW goes towards him and shakes
hands._]
CRAWSHAW. How do you do, Mr. Clifton? Very good of you to come.
[_Looking doubtfully at his clothes._] Er--it is Mr. Denis Clifton,
the solicitor?
CLIFTON [_cheerfully_]. It is. I must apologize for not looking the
part more, but my clothes did not arrive from Clarkson's in time. Very
careless of them when they had promised. And my clerk dissuaded me
from the side-whiskers which I keep by me for these occasions.
CRAWSHAW [_bewildered_]. Ah yes, quite so. But you have--ah--full
legal authority to act in this matter?
CLIFTON. Oh, decidedly. Oh, there's no question of that.
CRAWSHAW [_introducing_]. My wife--and daughter. [_CLIFTON bows
gracefully._] My friend, Mr. Richard Meriton.
CLIFTON [_happily_]. Dear me! Mr. Meriton too! This is quite a
situation, as we say in the profession.
RICHARD [_amused by him_]. In the legal profession?
CLIFTON. In the theatrical profession. [_Turning to MARGARET._] I am a
writer of plays, Mrs. Crawshaw. I am not giving away a professional
secret when I tell you that most of the managers in London have
thanked me for submitting my work to them.
CRAWSHAW [_firmly_]. I understood, Mr. Clifton, that you were the
solicitor employed to wind up the affairs of the late Mr. Antony
Clifton.
CLIFTON. Oh, certainly. Oh, there's no doubt about my being a
solicitor. My clerk, a man of the utmost integrity, not to say
probity, would give me a reference. I am in the books; I belong to the
Law Society. But my heart turns elsewhere. Officially I have embraced
the profession of a solicitor--[_Frankly, to MRS. CRAWSHAW._] But you
know what these official embraces are.
MARGARET. I'm afraid--[_She turns to her husband for assistance._]
CLIFTON [_to RICHARD_]. Unofficially, Mr. Meriton, I am wedded to the
Muses.
VIOLA. Dick, isn't he lovely?
CRAWSHAW. Quite so. But just for the moment, Mr. Clifton, I take it
that we are concerned with legal business. Should I ever wish to
produce a play, the case would be different.
CLIFTON. Admirably put. Pray regard me entirely as the solicitor for
as long as you wish. [_He puts his hat down on a chair with the papers
in it, and taking off his gloves, goes on dreamily._] Mr. Denis
Clifton was superb as a solicitor. In spite of an indifferent make-up,
his manner of taking off his gloves and dropping them into his
hat--[_He does so._]
MARGARET [_to CRAWSHAW_]. I think, perhaps, Viola and I--
RICHARD [_making a move too_]. We'll leave you to your business,
Robert.
CLIFTON [_holding up his hand_]. Just one moment if I may. I have a
letter for you, Mr. Meriton.
RICHARD [_surprised_]. For me?
CLIFTON. Yes. My clerk, a man of the utmost integrity--oh, but I said
that before--he took it round to your rooms this morning, but found
only painters and decorators there. [_He is feeling in his pockets and
now brings the letter out._] I brought it along, hoping that Mr.
Crawshaw--but of course I never expected anything so delightful as
this. [_He hands over the letter with a bow._]
RICHARD. Thanks. [_He puts it in his pocket._]
CLIFTON. Oh, but do read it now, won't you? [_To MRS. CRAWSHAW._] One
so rarely has an opportunity of being present when one's own letters
are read. I think the habit they have on the stage of reading letters
aloud to each other is such a very delightful one. [_RICHARD, with a
smile and a shrug, has opened his letter while CLIFTON is talking._]
RICHARD. Good Lord!
VIOLA. Dick, what is it?
RICHARD [_reading_]. "199, Lincoln's Inn Fields. Dear Sir, I have the
pleasure to inform you that under the will of the late Mr. Antony
Clifton you are a beneficiary to the extent of L50,000."
VIOLA. Dick!
RICHARD. "A trifling condition is attached--namely, that you should
take the name of--Wurzel-Flummery." [_CLIFTON, with his hand on his
heart, bows gracefully from one to the other of them._]
CRAWSHAW [_annoyed_]. Impossible! Why should he leave any money to
you?
VIOLA. Dick! How wonderful!
MARGARET [_mildly_]. I don't remember ever having had a morning quite
like this.
RICHARD [_angrily_]. Is this a joke, Mr. Clifton?
CLIFTON. Oh, the money is there all right. My clerk, a man of the
utmost--
RICHARD. Then I refuse it. I'll have nothing to do with it. I won't
even argue about it. [_Tearing the letter into bits._] That's what I
think of your money. [_He stalks indignantly from the room._]
VIOLA. Dick! Oh, but, mother, he mustn't. Oh, I must tell him--[_She
hurries after him._]
MARGARET [_with dignity_]. Really, Mr. Clifton, I'm surprised at you.
[_She goes out too._]
CLIFTON [_looking round the room_]. And now, Mr. Crawshaw, we are
alone.
CRAWSHAW. Yes. Well, I think, Mr. Clifton, you have a good deal to
explain--
CLIFTON. My dear sir, I'm longing to begin. I have been looking
forward to this day for weeks. I spent over an hour this morning
dressing for it. [_He takes papers from his hat and moves to the
sofa._] Perhaps I had better begin from the beginning.
CRAWSHAW [_interested, indicating the papers_]. The documents in the
case?
CLIFTON. Oh dear, no--just something to carry in the hand. It makes
one look more like a solicitor. [_Reading the title._] "Watherston v.
Towser--_in re_ Great Missenden Canal Company." My clerk invents the
titles; it keeps him busy. He is very fond of Towser; Towser is always
coming in. [_Frankly._] You see, Mr. Crawshaw, this is my first real
case, and I only got it because Antony Clifton is my uncle. My efforts
to introduce a little picturesqueness into the dull formalities of the
law do not meet with that response that one would have expected.
CRAWSHAW [_looking at his watch_]. Yes. Well, I'm a busy man, and if
you could tell me as shortly as possible why your uncle left this
money to me, and apparently to Mr. Meriton too, under these
extraordinary conditions, I shall be obliged to you.
CLIFTON. Say no more, Mr. Crawshaw; I look forward to being entirely
frank with you. It will be a pleasure.
CRAWSHAW. You understand, of course, my position. I think I may say
that I am not without reputation in the country; and proud as I am to
accept this sacred trust, this money which the late Mr. Antony Clifton
has seen fit--[_modestly_] one cannot say why--to bequeath to me, yet
the use of the name Wurzel-Flummery would be excessively awkward.
CLIFTON [_cheerfully_]. Excessively.
CRAWSHAW. My object in seeing you was to inquire if it was absolutely
essential that the name should go with the money.
CLIFTON. Well [_thoughtfully_], you may have the name _without_ the
money if you like. But you must have the name.
CRAWSHAW [_disappointed_]. Ah! [_Bravely._] Of course, I have nothing
against the name, a good old Hampshire name--
CLIFTON [_shocked_]. My dear Mr. Crawshaw, you didn't think--you
didn't really think that anybody had been called Wurzel-Flummery
before? Oh no, no. You and Mr. Meriton were to be the first, the
founders of the clan, the designers of the Wurzel-Flummery sporran--
CRAWSHAW. What do you mean, sir? Are you telling me that it is not a
real name at all?
CLIFTON. Oh, it's a name all right. I know it is because--er--_I_ made
it up.
CRAWSHAW [_outraged_]. And you have the impudence to propose, sir,
that I should take a made-up name?
CLIFTON [_soothingly_]. Well, all names are made up some time or
other. Somebody had to think of--Adam.
CRAWSHAW. I warn you, Mr. Clifton, that I do not allow this trifling
with serious subjects.
CLIFTON. It's all so simple, really.... You see, my Uncle Antony was a
rather unusual man. He despised money. He was not afraid to put it in
its proper place. The place he put it in was--er--a little below golf
and a little above classical concerts. If a man said to him, "Would
you like to make fifty thousand this afternoon?" he would say--well,
it would depend what he was doing. If he were going to have a round at
Walton Heath--
CRAWSHAW. It's perfectly scandalous to talk of money in this way.
CLIFTON. Well, that's how he talked about it. But he didn't find many
to agree with him. In fact, he used to say that there was nothing,
however contemptible, that a man would not do for money. One day I
suggested that if he left a legacy with a sufficiently foolish name
attached to it, somebody might be found to refuse it. He laughed at
the idea. That put me on my mettle. "Two people," I said; "leave the
same silly name to two people, two well-known people, rival
politicians, say, men whose own names are already public property.
Surely they wouldn't both take it." That touched him. "Denis, my boy,
you've got it," he said. "Upon what vile bodies shall we experiment?"
We decided on you and Mr. Meriton. The next thing was to choose the
name. I started on the wrong lines. I began by suggesting names like
Porker, Tosh, Bugge, Spiffkins--the obvious sort. My uncle--
CRAWSHAW [_boiling with indignation_]. How _dare_ you discuss me with
your uncle, sir! How dare you decide in this cold-blooded way whether
I am to be called--ah--Tosh--or-ah--Porker!
CLIFTON. My uncle wouldn't hear of Tosh or Porker. He wanted a
humorous name--a name he could roll lovingly round his tongue--a name
expressing a sort of humorous contempt--Wurzel-Flummery! I can see now
the happy ruminating smile which came so often on my Uncle Antony's
face in those latter months. He was thinking of his two
Wurzel-Flummeries. I remember him saying once--it was at the Zoo--what
a pity it was he hadn't enough to divide among the whole Cabinet. A
whole bunch of Wurzel-Flummeries; it would have been rather jolly.
CRAWSHAW. You force me to say, sir, that if _that_ was the way you and
your uncle used to talk together at the Zoo, his death can only be
described as a merciful intervention of Providence.
CLIFTON. Oh, but I think he must be enjoying all this somewhere, you
know. I hope he is. He would have loved this morning. It was his one
regret that from the necessities of the case he could not live to
enjoy his own joke; but he had hopes that echoes of it would reach him
wherever he might be. It was with some such idea, I fancy, that toward
the end he became interested in spiritualism.
CRAWSHAW [_rising solemnly_]. Mr. Clifton, I have no interest in the
present whereabouts of your uncle, nor in what means he has of
overhearing a private conversation between you and myself. But if, as
you irreverently suggest, he is listening to us, I should like him to
hear this. That, in my opinion, you are not a qualified solicitor at
all, that you never had an uncle, and that the whole story of the will
and the ridiculous condition attached to it is just the tomfool joke
of a man who, by his own admission, wastes most of his time writing
unsuccessful farces. And I propose--
CLIFTON. Pardon my interrupting. But you said farces. Not farces,
comedies--of a whimsical nature.
CRAWSHAW. Whatever they were, sir, I propose to report the whole
matter to the Law Society. And you know your way out, sir.
CLIFTON. Then I am to understand that you refuse the legacy, Mr.
Crawshaw?
CRAWSHAW [_startled_]. What's that?
CLIFTON. I am to understand that you refuse the fifty thousand pounds?
CRAWSHAW. If the money is really there, I most certainly do not refuse
it.
CLIFTON. Oh, the money is most certainly there--and the name. Both
waiting for you.
CRAWSHAW [_thumping the table_]. Then, sir, I accept them. I feel it
my duty to accept them, as a public expression of confidence in the
late Mr. Clifton's motives. I repudiate entirely the motives that you
have suggested to him, and I consider it a sacred duty to show what I
think of your story by accepting the trust which he has bequeathed to
me. You will arrange further matters with my solicitor. Good-morning,
sir.
CLIFTON [_to himself as he rises_]. Mr. Crawshaw here drank a glass of
water. [_To CRAWSHAW._] Mr. Wurzel-Flummery, farewell. May I express
the parting wish that your future career will add fresh luster to--my
name. [_To himself as he goes out._] Exit Mr. Denis Clifton with
dignity. [_But he has left his papers behind him. CRAWSHAW, walking
indignantly back to the sofa, sees the papers and picks them up._]
CRAWSHAW [_contemptuously_]. "Watherston v. Towser--_in re_ Great
Missenden Canal Company." Bah! [_He tears them up and throws them into
the fire. He goes back to his writing-table and is seated there as
VIOLA, followed by MERITON, comes in._]
VIOLA. Father, Dick doesn't want to take the money, but I have told
him that of course he must. He must, mustn't he?
RICHARD. We needn't drag Robert into it, Viola.
CRAWSHAW. If Richard has the very natural feeling that it would be
awkward for me if there were two Wurzel-Flummeries in the House of
Commons, I should be the last to interfere with his decision. In any
case, I don't see what concern it is of yours, Viola.
VIOLA [_surprised_]. But how can we get married if he doesn't take the
money?
CRAWSHAW [_hardly understanding_]. Married? What does this mean,
Richard?
RICHARD. I'm sorry it has come out like this. We ought to have told
you before, but anyhow we were going to have told you in a day or two.
Viola and I want to get married.
CRAWSHAW. And what did you want to get married on?
RICHARD [_with a smile_]. Not very much, I'm afraid.
VIOLA. We're all right now, father, because we shall have fifty
thousand pounds.
RICHARD [_sadly_]. Oh, Viola, Viola!
CRAWSHAW. But naturally this puts a very different complexion on
matters.
VIOLA. So of course he must take it, mustn't he, father?