A FOOL'S PARADISE.
AN ORIGINAL PLAY
IN THREE ACTS.
BY
SYDNEY GRUNDY.
____________________________________________
_Copyright,_ 1898, _by Thomas Henry French._
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London: | New York:
SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD. | T. HENRY FRENCH,
PUBLISHERS, | PUBLISHER,
89, STRAND. | 26, WEST 22nd STREET.
A FOOL'S PARADISE
_Produced at the Garrick Theatre on Saturday,
January 2nd, 1892._
CHARACTERS.
Lord Normantower MR. F. KERR.
Sir Peter Lund, Bart., M.D., F.R.S. MR. JOHN HARE.
Philip Selwyn MR. H. B. IRVING.
Hon. Tom Verinder MR. GILBERT HARE.
Price MR. S. B. BRERETON.
Kate Derwent MISS KATE RORKE.
Beatrice Selwyn MISS OLGA NETHERSOLE.
Mildred Selwyn MISS BEATRICE FERRAR.
Johnson MISS MINNA BLAKISTON.
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ACT I.--THE HALL, AT RAVENHURST,
_Philip Selwyn's Country House, near St. Alban's, Herts._
_A Week Elapses._
ACT II.--THE BOUDOIR.
_Morning._
ACT III.--THE BOUDOIR
_Night._
NECESSARY PROPERTIES.
ACT I.--On R. table: China Bowl, books in case, newspapers, photo
views, three letters and newspaper through post. Book on sofa.
_Ready:_ Tennis ball to throw on from between C. doors and R.W. Tennis
bat for Kate R.U.E. _Hand Properties:_ Basket of cut flowers for Kate.
Work bag containing balls of wool and needles, and an apple, for
Mildred. Snuff box for Sir Peter.
ACT II.--Water bottle and glass, magazine, and Punch, on L. table.
Fire lighted. The hearth should be a solid sheet of slate for glass to
break easily. Bell rope on flat, R. of opening R.C., bell pull on flat
L., below fire-place. _Ready:_ Medicine bottle and glass, L.D. _Hand
Properties:_ Water can (no water) for Kate. Two certificates of
marriage, and one of death for Sir Peter. Cigarettes in case for
Normantower.
ACT III.--Clear chair from back of table, and water bottle. Lighted
lamp on piano. Ditto on pedestal in conservatory L.C. Small ditto on
table, L.C. _Ready_ R.U.D.: Six cups of coffee on salver, sugar and
milk on small salver. _Ready_ L.D.: Medicine bottle, wine glass and
poison phial. Flower pot to smash on stone, R.U.E. Alarm bell to ring
R.U.E. Large lock to work, R.U.E. _Hand Properties:_ Book for Sir
Peter. Snuff box for Sir Peter.
A FOOL'S PARADISE.
ACT I.
SCENE.--_The Hall of an old-fashioned Country House with staircase.
Door C. Entrance, L. Door, R. Windows at back, looking into grounds.
Letters on table. Gong._
_TOM and MILDRED discovered together. MILDRED on sofa, L.C., TOM on
foot-stool at her feet R. of her. She has some work in her hand, and a
ball of wool in a satchel. [Note for TOM.--Before curtain rises, tie
wool to button on waistcoat, and see the wool is free to "payout" for
business.]_
TOM. Come, Mildred dear, say "Yes."
MIL. But I can't say "Yes."
TOM. You might help a fellow a bit. I never proposed to anybody
before, and I daresay I've done it very badly----
MIL. No, Tom, you've done it very well.
TOM. (_rises and sits beside her, arm round her waist_) Say "Yes,"
then. Of course, I'm not good enough for a girl like you. But I may be
some day. My brother Ned's a confirmed bachelor, and it's just on the
cards I may be the next Earl of Normantower.
MIL. Yes, Tom, that's just it. I'm not fit to be a Countess.
TOM. Not fit to be a Countess? Why, some of 'em are awful.
MIL. My brother wouldn't hear of it, I'm sure.
TOM. Well, then, you shan't be a Countess. A confirmed bachelor's
always the first to get married; and if Ned has a family, I shan't
come in for the title. You wouldn't mind being Mrs. Verinder, would
you?
MIL. Oh, Tom! I know ought to say I should, but I shouldn't.
TOM. (_half embracing her_) Say "Yes," then.
MIL. Someone's coming! (_TOM runs to opposite side of the stage and
sits L. of table. She works; he pretends to read a book on table_)
_Enter KATE DERWENT from grounds, C. from R., with a basket of
flowers._
KATE. Well, children! (_comes down, puts basket of flowers on back of
table, R.C., and goes down to C._)
TOM. (_aside_) Children!
KATE. Why aren't you out of doors this beautiful morning?
MIL. Oh, I wanted to finish this slipper.
KATE. (_catching sight of the thread of wool, the end of which has got
entangled on TOM'S button and which stretches across the stage,
connecting the two_) Really? And you, Mr. Verinder?
TOM. I? I was reading Hiawatha.
KATE. You don't say so! (_picking up the thread and drawing them
together_) Now, how dare you tell me such stories? (_breaks the
thread, throws it to MILDRED, crosses TOM to R. of table and fills a
vase with flowers from her basket_)
TOM. It's no use trying to deceive you, Miss Derwent. I've been making
love to Mildred.
KATE. Making love at ten o'clock in the morning? I'm ashamed of you.
It's almost as bad as playing cards by daylight.
TOM. (C.) I want her to marry me and she won't! She says my family's
too good for her--as if anything could be too good for Mildred! I'm
sure the Verinders are poor enough. As for me, she forgets my father
was cut off with a shilling, and blew'd the lot?
KATE. (R.C.) Blew'd the lot.
MIL. Tom means, his father spent it. (_C.L. of TOM_)
KATE. Spent the shilling?
TOM. Every penny of it. Oh, we're a reckless lot, we Verinders!
_PHILIP SELWYN enters C. from L., he places his stick in stand L. of
C. door, hat on small table up R.C., and goes slowly down to
fire-place, R._
MIL. And why was he cut off with the shilling?
TOM. Because he married the girl he wanted; instead of a girl he
didn't want; and his son's going to do the same. (_placing his arm
round her and taking her down to L.C._)
KATE. Ah, Mr. Verinder! Marriage is a serious responsibility. (_goes
to C., basket in hand_)
TOM. It's serious when you marry the wrong person, but I'm going to
marry the right one.
KATE. Yes, but who is the right one?
PHIL. Surely, the right one is the one we love. (_sits, opening
letters, in arm-chair R. of table_)
TOM. (_advances to C._) _You_ think so, Mr. Selwyn? (_turns to
MILDRED, who sits on R. arm of sofa, searches in her work bag and
finds an apple which he eats_)
KATE. (_sits R.C._) Because you have been fortunate in your choice,
but how many have made a mistake! Even love matches are often
unfortunate. Love has a habit of being so one-sided. (_filling a bowl
on table, with flowers_)
PHIL. I haven't found it so! and mine was a love match, if ever there
was one. I met my wife quite casually at Brighton--fell in love,
proposed, was accepted and married, all within a month.
KATE. You married in haste.
PHIL. And by all the laws of cynical philosophy, I ought to have
repented at leisure. (_BEATRICE SELWYN enters, L. down staircase
unobserved, and crosses slowly to back of table R.C._) But I haven't
repented. To the confusion of the philosophers, I'm the happiest
husband and have the best wife in the world.
TOM. (_turns to KATE, his mouth full of apple_) There, Miss Derwent!
What do you say to that? (_turns to MILDRED_)
KATE. That is one side of the picture, but I've seen the other. My
mother also married for love.
PHIL. And what was the consequence?
KATE. That her daughter will never marry.
BEA. (_softly_) Don't say that, Miss Derwent. (_all start slightly,
KATE rises, and sits again almost immediately, still filling bowl with
flowers_) You are always severe on the gentlemen, but don't be so hard
on them as that.
PHIL. Good gracious, Mousey, how you startled me! Your footsteps are
so fairy-like, one never knows where you are.
BEA. Moral: never tell secrets to Miss Derwent, when you think I'm not
listening.
PHIL. My dear, it's no secret that I have the best wife in the world.
TOM. Everybody thinks that, Mrs. Selwyn. (_going up C. towards her_)
BEA. (_goes to TOM, C._) Not everybody. To wit--Sir Peter Lund.
MIL. Oh, what does it matter what that grumpy old bear thinks? (_goes
to L. of sofa, and round behind it_)
BEA. (_crosses TOM to sofa, L.C., picks up a book and sits almost
reclining, her back to PHIL. and KATE. TOM goes up C. and remains in
doorway_) My dear Mildred, Sir Peter Lund is a most able and
distinguished man. Having made his fortune as a fashionable physician,
he has almost retired from the active pursuit of his profession to
devote himself to his innumerable appointments, and to the
transactions of all sorts of royal and learned societies, where the
clearing of his erudite throat is the signal of the most reverential
attention. (_TOM signals to MILDRED who joins him up C._)
KATE. And well it may be.
BEA. Forgive me, I quite forgot he was a friend of yours.
PHIL. And mine as well, my dear. When Sir Peter was an ordinary family
practitioner, he brought both Mildred and myself into the world, he
attended my father in his last illness, and in spite of the multitude
of his engagements, he is good enough to take an interest in us still.
What could be kinder than his voluntary proposal to run down here and
see me, simply because he had heard casually that I was rather out of
sorts?
KATE. Sir Peter is coming here?
PHIL. I expect him this morning.
BEA. I can only wonder that in "the multitude of his engagements" he
can find the leisure.
PHIL. Sir Peter is one of those wonderful men, who get through the
work of a dozen, yet never seem to have anything to do.
KATE. (_rises_) Who can always find time for an act of kindness, and
are never too busy to remember an old friend. (_goes up and puts
basket on table at back R.C., and joins TOM and MILDRED._)
BEA. Well, I will make him as comfortable as I can.
PHIL. I know you will, and the more you see of him the more you will
like him. (_opening another letter_) Hallo! Tom, a letter from your
brother.
TOM. Ned! (_comes down L. of table, MILDRED L. of TOM._)
PHIL. "A thousand thanks, old man, for your kind invitation to stay
with you while Normantower is being prepared for the reception of my
august person! How glad I shall be to shake hands with you once more!
Expect me when you see me. Yours as always, Ned. P.S.--Fancy you
putting up my cub of a brother! Surely the stables were good enough
for him."
MIL. Well, I declare!
TOM. Ned always talks like that; but he's a very good brother to me,
and always down with the dust, when he's any dust to down with.
(_takes her up C. rejoining KATE_)
BEA. (_rises, crosses to L. of table, puts book in case on table, and
then gets back of table, L. of PHILIP_) You see, Phil, Lord
Normantower is quite grateful for your invitation.
PHIL. It was a happy thought of yours to suggest it; but when aren't
your thoughts happy? They are always of others. (_BEATRICE kisses
him._)
_Enter PRICE, L.D._
PRI. Sir Peter Lund. (_BEATRICE comes down C. KATE down R.C. corner of
table, TOM and MILDRED behind arm-chair R._)
_Enter SIR PETER LUND. He comes to L.C._
PHIL. (_rises and crosses to SIR PETER, taking his hand_) Welcome to
Ravenhurst! I scarcely expected you so soon. You must have risen early
this morning. (_exit PRICE with SIR PETER'S hat and stick L.D._)
SIR P. Always get up at five. (_crosses to BEATRICE_) How are you?
(_shakes hands with BEATRICE_) How d'ye do? (_crosses BEATRICE to
KATE, and waves his hand to TOM and MILDRED_) How are you, boy?
BEA. Always get up at five? (_L. of SIR PETER_)
PHIL. And never goes to bed before two. It's a marvel to me how you do
it! (_front of sofa_)
SIR PETER. (_crosses to PHIL._) It's a marvel to me how you don't do
it. That's why you are out of sorts. You eat too much.
PHIL. Sir Peter!
SIR P. Drink too much.
BEA. Sir Peter!
SIR P. Sleep too much.
KATE. Sir Peter!
SIR P. (_turning on the ladies_) So do you!
BEA. (_turning to KATE_) Oh! (_TOM and MILDRED steal off into the
grounds, C. to R._)
SIR P. Of course you do. Everybody does. (_watch_) What time's the
next up train?
PHIL. You're not thinking of going already?
SIR P. Certainly not. Not going for ten minutes.
BEA. Surely you'll stay to lunch?
SIR P. Lunch, what d'you want with lunch? If you've an appetite for
dinner, thank heaven for it, and don't go and spoil it with lunch.
BEA. Do you ever eat?
SIR P. Eat? Like a cormorant.
PHIL. Drink?
SIR P. Like a fish. (_PHILIP reclines on sofa, R. of it_)
KATE. Sleep?
SIR P. Like a humming-top!
BEA. But you say, you oughtn't.
SIR P. Well? Do you never do what you oughtn't! I do. (_turns up to
head of sofa and surveys PHILIP through pince-nez_)
BEA. Since Sir Peter is so pressed for time----
SIR P. Pressed for time? Not at all. (_getting behind sofa still
looking at PHILIP_)
BEA. I understood you----
SIR P. You misunderstood me.
BEA. At any rate we'd better leave you with your patient. Come, Miss
Derwent--(_bows--SIR PETER bows. Exit with KATE into grounds, C. to
R._) (_SIR PETER turns up stage and watches them off, then comes down,
moves chair R. of sofa towards PHILIP, and sits_)
SIR P. Well, what's the matter with you?
PHIL. Really, Sir Peter! That's what I want you to tell me.
SIR P. You have a high opinion of the medical profession. Do you
suppose we can tell you anything, if you don't tell us first?
PHIL. I have always supposed so.
SIR P. Error, sir. You tell us everything we tell you. The only
difference is, you tell us in English, and we tell you in Latin. You
take a fee out of your pocket; we put one in ours.
PHIL. Well, doctor, I can't tell you what's the matter with me. I
should very much like to know.
SIR P. Why! What has it to do with _you?_
PHIL. (_smiling_) A great deal unhappily.
SIR P. Vulgar fallacy. A patient's complaint concerns nobody but his
doctor. (_feels pulse--watch in hand_)
PHIL. I have no energy. I don't take my usual interest in what goes on
around me. One day I'm restless--another, lethargic. There's nothing
particular the matter with me, but I seem to have no pleasure in
existence; and instead of getting better, I get worse.
SIR P. (_shuts watch_) Happy at home? (_after feeling his hand_)
PHIL. Perfectly.
SIR P. How has your marriage answered?
PHIL. My wife is simply a treasure.
SIR P. (_dryly_) Oh! Any money difficulties?
PHIL. None. My father left me beyond reach of any trouble of that
sort.
SIR P. Any pain? (_feeling his chest_)
PHIL. No.
SIR P. I see, Miss Derwent is still with you.
PHIL. And I hope, will remain. Beatrice wouldn't be without her for
the world, and I think Mildred almost worships her. I can't
sufficiently thank you for the introduction.
SIR P. How's your appetite?
PHIL. It varies.
SIR P. I thought Miss Derwent would suit you. I picked her up at
Guy's. She was a nurse there. Something about her struck me. Has it
struck you?
PHIL. What?
SIR P. Her likeness to your father.
PHIL. Well, now you mention it, there is a likeness.
SIR P. Sleep pretty well?
PHIL. Too well. I'm always drowsy.
SIR P. So, altogether, you're quite a happy family?
PHIL. Yes, doctor. With more money than I know what to do with, heir
to a name that is honoured wherever it is known, the husband of the
dearest wife in the world, I sometimes think I am the happiest man on
earth.
SIR P. Humph.
PHIL. You smile.
SIR P. I seem to have dropped into a little paradise.
PHIL. Yes, doctor.
SIR P. Where's the serpent?
PHIL. The serpent?
SIR P. There was a serpent even in paradise.
PHIL. There's none in mine.
SIR P. (_rises_) I'm sorry to hear it. (_crosses to C._) There is only
one sort of paradise in which there is no serpent.
PHIL. What sort do you mean?
SIR P. (C.) A fool's. (_takes snuff and goes to hearthrug, R., back to
fire-place_)
PHIL. (_rises and crosses to R.C. and sits L. of table_) You are plain
spoken, Sir Peter. Now tell me with equal candour what is the matter
with me. Perhaps that is the serpent.
SIR P. Shall I tell you the truth?
PHIL. Of course.
SIR P. I don't know.
PHIL. Surely, with your experience----
SIR P. Sir, I have no experience.
PHIL. Well, with your knowledge----
SIR P. Sir, I have no knowledge. Knowledge is the monopoly of
extremely young practitioners. I have been doctoring for forty years;
and now, I stand here on your hearthrug, sir, a monument of triumphant
ignorance.
PHIL. Nonsense, Sir Peter.
SIR P. Sense, sir, sense.
PHIL. Be candid and tell me frankly what is wrong with me.
SIR P. Your liver, probably.
PHIL. Only my liver?
SIR P. (_advances to table_) Don't speak disparagingly of your liver,
sir. That eminently respectable organ has been much misunderstood. It
is commonly supposed to serve certain functional purposes in the
physical economy. Another fallacy! The liver was made, by a beautiful
provision of nature, for the benefit of the medical profession. (_sits
in arm-chair, R._)
_Re-enter MILDRED and TOM, followed by LORD NORMANTOWER, C. from R._
MIL. Phil, here's Lord Normantower. (_MILDRED runs on to back of
table, followed by TOM, who gets R. of sofa, and sits on arm of it.
SIR PETER rises and goes down two steps, R._)
PHIL. Ned! (_rises and turns up to meet LORD NORMANTOWER_)
TOM. He's so brown, and he's grown such a beard!
NOR. (_up C._) Well, Phil, old man, how are you?
PHIL. (_they come down stage together, C., PHILIP on R. of LORD
NORMANTOWER, MILDRED crosses behind them to back of sofa, L. of TOM_)
My dear Ned! I can't tell you how glad I am to see you. Sir Peter
Lund--Lord Normantower. How kind of you to come and stop with us! How
pleasant it will be to chat over old times! But first of all, let me
congratulate you on your new dignity.
NOR. Dignity? My dear Phil, I have no dignity. I am a born Bohemian,
and the idea of me dropping in for a peerage strikes me as so
ludicrous, I've done nothing but laugh ever since I became a
hereditary legislator. (_laughs_)
TOM. Ha, ha, ha!
NOR. (_suddenly serious_) What's the matter with you?
TOM. Fancy Ned a legislator!
NOR. Even Tom sees the joke. (_throws hat to TOM_)
_TOM, suddenly serious, turns up to be consoled by MILDRED; exeunt, C.
to R.; TOM hanging LORD NORMANTOWER'S hat on stick in stand._
PHIL. Lord Normantower and I were at Oxford together. We became great
friends; and though circumstances have kept us a good deal
apart--we've never quite lost sight of one another.
NOR. I haven't the pleasure of knowing Sir Peter myself, but I believe
other members of my family have had that privilege.
SIR P. (_crosses to LORD NORMANTOWER, C._) Sir, I had the honour of
attending the last three Earls of Normantower. Your uncle--gout; your
cousin Richard--lungs; your cousin John--delirium--humph--delirium!
(_PHILIP drops down, R.C._)
NOR. (_throws gloves on table, L.C._) That branch of the family
disposed of, the peerage devolved on me as the eldest son of my poor
father--the only Verinder who never enjoyed the title, and the only
one who deserved it.
SIR P. (_shaking him by the hand_) I quite agree with you. (_turns up
C._)
PHIL. Let us hope his son will be worthy of him.
NOR. (_sits in chair R. of sofa_) Ah, well, I'll do my best; but ten
thousand a year, paid quarterly in advance, would have suited Ned
Verinder's book better than an empty honour without a shilling to
support it.
PHIL. (_crosses to LORD NORMANTOWER_) Well, there's one consolation.
If it's a difficult matter for a peer to make money, it's very easy
for him to marry it. (_SIR PETER comes down to fire-place, R._)
NOR. Marry? Not me! No! I was born a bachelor, and am not going to fly
in the face of Providence.
PHIL. You don't believe in marriage?
NOR. Of course there are exceptions; and I hope from the bottom of my
heart, yours is one of them. I haven't seen your wife yet, you know.
PHIL. I've married a most charming woman, Ned--haven't I, Sir Peter?
(_going to L. of table, R.C._)
SIR P. (_picks up Punch from table, R._) Sir--your wife is my hostess,
and one's hostess is always charming. (_bows and turns off--sitting
R., reading_)
NOR. A charming woman? You arouse painful memories. I once knew a
charming woman. To be quite frank, I was engaged to one.
PHIL. (_goes to LORD NORMANTOWER_) You have been engaged to be
married! I never heard of it.
NOR. No, I kept it quiet. So did she. (_BEATRICE enters, C., from R.,
pausing to look in at window, R.C., and comes down behind chair,
R.C._) At the time, there was not the remotest likelihood of my ever
succeeding to the title, and of course I was hard up. I always was. A
gilded calf appeared upon the scene; and the charming woman wrote me a
charming letter, protesting eternal fidelity, and announcing her
approaching marriage.
PHIL. To the calf?
NOR. To the gilt.
PHIL. You had a lucky escape.
NOR. Luckier than I thought: for I discovered afterwards that the
charming creature was a regular adventuress--a garrison hack--a
boarding-house belle--the sole support of an aged father--a venerable
old gentleman, with the manners of a patriarch and the morals of a
welsher! She was a charming woman, for all that.
PHIL. I congratulate you on your escape. But who was the unfortunate
calf?
NOR. I never took the trouble to inquire.
BEA. (_advancing--all start slightly as before_) And the charming
creature? Pray, who was she? (_C.R. of PHILIP_)
NOR. (_rises_) Miss Challoner!
PHIL. (_proudly--introducing BEATRICE_) My wife. (_NORMANTOWER bows_)
You know one another.
BEA. (_with perfect self-possession_) I believe, now that I see Lord
Normantower, I once had the pleasure of meeting him. (_crosses to
NORMANTOWER_) Let me see--where was it?
NOR. It sounds ungallant to say so, but I really forget for the
moment.
BEA. Well, never mind that now. Tell us who was the lady who used you
so shamefully. I am dying to know. (_looking him straight in the
face_)
NOR. You must excuse me. Though I am ungallant enough to forget where
I met Mrs. Selwyn, I am not so unchivalrous as to betray a lady's
secret. (_moves away to L.C. in front of sofa_)
BEA. (_goes to PHILIP, R.C._) Phil, dear, your friend is quite a hero
of romance. If you have any more such friends, please lose no time in
introducing them.
PHIL. My love, don't make me jealous. (_BEATRICE goes to NORMANTOWER.
PHILIP turns and speaks to SIR PETER_)
BEA. (_giving her hand frankly to NORMANTOWER_) Thank you, Lord
Normantower.
NOR. (_taking her hand, rather disconcerted_) For what, Mrs. Selwyn?
BEA. For your loyalty--to my sex. (_turns off up stage to back of
table, calling SIR PETER, who rises and joins her. She shows him a
book, which she takes from table_)
PHIL. (_crosses to NORMANTOWER, takes his arm, and draws him back to
sofa_) You've had a narrow escape, evidently; but don't make the
mistake of letting the unworthiness of one woman blind you to the
merits of the rest. Believe me, there is no happiness like that of
married love. (_sits on sofa. SIR PETER is looking at book; BEATRICE
listening to conversation_)
NOR. (_sits L. of PHILIP_) Love! there is no such thing. We think we
are in love, but we aren't. What is called love is an affliction of
the brain, not an affection of the heart. Luckily, we soon get over
it.
BEA. Men may--but women, never. Do they, Sir Peter?
SIR P. I never offer an opinion on matters I don't
understand--(_lifting his forefinger_)--unless, mark, they are
strictly medical. Love has no place in the British pharmacopæa. (_goes
down R. of table, BEATRICE L. of it. She shows him some photographic
views_)
PHIL. Yet it exists. I have even known cases of love at sight.
NOR. Love at sight! Now you're going too far for anything. I can
imagine an enthusiast believing even in love, but love at sight!
(_rises_) No, my dear Phil, that's too ridicu---- (_a tennis ball
comes flying in from the grounds, rolling down to L. corner;
NORMANTOWER picks it up and gets L.C._)
_KATE runs in after the ball, C. from R., she has a tennis bat in her
hand, and comes down C._
KATE. (_speaking off, as she enters_) Stay where you are! I'll get it
for you, children! (_stops_) Has anybody seen---- Oh! there it is!
(_seeing it in NORMANTOWER'S hand_)
NOR. Allow me---- (_goes to C. and gives it to KATE_)
KATE. Thank you, very much. (_running out_) Here you are! Catch!
(_throwing ball off R. Exit KATE; NORMANTOWER turns up C., and stands
gazing after her; pause. PHILIP rises and goes L._)
NOR. (_to PHILIP_) Who is that lady? (_comes down C. to sofa_)
PHIL. (L.) That's Miss Derwent.
NOR. And who is Miss Derwent?
BEA. (R.C.) Only a companion. (_coldly_)
PHIL. You'll be delighted with her, when you know her, as of course
you will, if you stay with us for a week or two.
NOR. I'll stop for a month. (_sits on sofa_)
SIR P. (_watch_) Well, my ten minutes are up. (_crosses to C._) Before
I go I'd like to see you alone. (_to PHILIP_)
PHIL. (_turns up L. behind sofa_) Come to my room. (_to NORMANTOWER,
over back of sofa_) We shan't be very long. Meanwhile, I leave you in
good company. (_goes to foot of stairs L., followed by SIR PETER_)
BEA. (_goes up C. to SIR PETER_) Good-bye, Sir Peter--if I don't see
you again.
SIR P. You will see me again. I'll stay to lunch after all. (_follows
PHILIP_)
PHIL. (_going upstairs_) That's right, doctor. Give yourself a holiday
for once. (_exit L._)
BEA. (_following SIR PETER to foot of stairs_) But your patients? What
will they do without you? (_smiling sweetly_)
SIR P. (_on stairs_) What will they do? Recover. (_exit L._)
_BEATRICE stands at the foot of the stairs, watching them off.
NORMANTOWER is sitting with his back to staircase. He rises and
crosses thoughtfully to R.C. corner of table. BEATRICE advances and
stands looking at him._
NOR. Are they gone?
BEA. (C.) Yes. Oh, Ned, can you ever forgive me? (_L. of NORMANTOWER_)
NOR. Forgive you? I forgave you long ago. Indeed I am grateful to you
for teaching me a lesson which I shall never forget.
BEA. You are cruel; but I suppose I deserve it. (_on a line with
NORMANTOWER_)
NOR. My grievance is a thing of the past. I have no wish to injure you
or to cause you pain, and I should not have expressed myself so freely
just now, had I known that you were present or that I was speaking of
the wife of a friend. (_a step down_)
BEA. You have been misinformed. There is not a word of truth in what
you have heard about me.
NOR. No doubt. People exaggerate so. (_standing below her_)
BEA. They invent so.
NOR. They invent so.
BEA. And you have believed them! What must you think of me? (_moves
away a little_)
NOR. To be perfectly frank, Mrs. Selwyn, I endeavour not to think of
you at all. (_goes to fireplace R._)
BEA. (_goes up to L. of table_) You have forgotten me? You have
stripped me from your mind?
NOR. I have done my best to forget you. (_leans on mantel, his back to
her_)
BEA. (_moving away_) And this is constancy! (_down to L._)
NOR. (_faces round_) Constancy! I am not more punctilious than most
men, but surely it is scarcely my duty to be constant to a woman who
has become the wife of another. (_advances to R.C._)
BEA. (_goes up to C._) Ah! it is easy to talk of one's duty but it is
not always so easy to do it. (_NORMANTOWER looks at her_) Ned--may I
call you so? Let me tell you the secret of my life.
NOR. You have a secret? (_comes to her C._)
BEA. Yes--_I_ was always constant. I was forced into this marriage.
The letter I wrote breaking off our engagement was dictated to me. I
never loved my husband. (_turns away to L.C._)
NOR. (C.) Mrs. Selwyn, you forget, your husband is my friend. If you
didn't know it when he asked me here, you know it now.
BEA. (_turns to him_) I always knew it. It was I who suggested the
invitation. I could bear my unhappiness no longer. I felt I must see
you again. Oh, if you could only look into my heart! Ned! Though I
used you badly, you are bitterly avenged! (_drops into sofa L.C., and
buries her face in her hands_)
NOR. (_goes up to head of sofa, looking down on her_) I have no wish
to be avenged. I loved you--I lost you--and there is an end of it.
(_turns up C._)
BEA. (_rising_) Why was I born a woman? (_crosses to R.C. corner of
table_) Why was I not a man? To amuse myself just for the moment, and
then to be able to forget!
NOR. (_comes down behind chair R.C._) You do us an injustice. We men
are not so inconstant as you think. Sometimes we pretend to forget
what we are half ashamed to remember. (_BEATRICE listens intently,
watching him out of the corner of her eyes_) But the past is past. You
are a wife now. (_goes to C._)
BEA. If I were not a wife?
NOR. Then, it would be different.
BEA. (_close to him_) Hush! I have said, I do not love my husband; and
if you say that, you will make me hate him. To think that he--and he
alone--stands between me and happiness.
NOR. Beatrice! (_recoiling_)
BEA. Don't shrink from me! Is it so wicked to want to be happy?
(_touching him_)
NOR. Happy?
BEA. If I were only free! (_goes down to R.C._)
NOR. (C.) You forget, though I have dropped in for a title, I am
almost as poor as ever.
BEA. (_goes up to him_) But I am not. (_laying her hand on his arm_)
Philip has left me everything if I survive him.
_SIR PETER appears at the top of the staircase; she turns off
suddenly, crossing NORMANTOWER, who goes down to R.C._
BEA. (_goes towards foot of stairs_) Well, doctor, how do you find
your patient? (_up C._)
SIR P. (_up L.C._) Your husband is more seriously ill than I
anticipated. (_she glances at NORMANTOWER_)
NOR. Ill!
BEA. What is the matter with him?
SIR P. (_R. of chair, L.C._) Something occult--that's why I call it
serious. There is nothing so serious as the unknown. (_NORMANTOWER
turns up R. and looks out at window_)
BEA. Something _you_ can't make out? It must be occult indeed.
SIR P. (_goes to front of sofa L.C._) But something I _hope_ to make
out before I go.
BEA. Then you propose to stay here? (_disconcerted_)
SIR P. With your permission--for to-night, at any rate.
BEA. I'll have a room prepared for you at once. (_about to go L.U.E.,
returns C. and works to R.C._)
SIR P. Don't trouble. The orders are already given. I've taken the
liberty of choosing my own quarters. They open on the terrace, so I
can take the air in the morning without disturbing the household.
(_sits on sofa_)
_Re-enter C. from. R., KATE DERWENT from grounds, TOM and MILDRED
running up with her to the doors C. NORMANTOWER goes slowly down to R.
corner._
KATE. That'll do, children, I'm quite out of breath. (_comes down C.
TOM and MILDRED run off into grounds L._)
BEA. I am afraid the children give you no rest, Miss Derwent. (_R.C.,
L. of table_)
KATE. Oh, I don't mind. I like it. I was a dreadful tomboy myself,
when I was their age. I haven't forgotten how to play leap-frog yet.
BEA. Your memory is really wonderful.
KATE. And I believe I could give as good a back--(_stooping to give a
back, NORMANTOWER down R. laughs. Catching sight of NORMANTOWER, puts
her hand to her mouth and stops short_)
BEA. (_obliged to introduce them_) Lord Normantower--Miss Derwent.
(_he bows_)
KATE. (_nodding_) How d'ye do? (_turns and speaks to SIR PETER_).
BEA. (_turns to NORMANTOWER, R._) You have not been here
lately--Philip has made such improvements! You'll scarcely know the
old place again. May I have the pleasure of showing it you?
NOR. I shall be delighted. (_BEATRICE turns up a few steps C.,
NORMANTOWER crosses to KATE, C._) Perhaps Miss Derwent will come with
us. (_BEATRICE bites her lips_)
SIR P. (_rising_) Miss Derwent will stop here. (_BEATRICE smiles
maliciously_) I want to speak to her.
KATE. You, doctor? (_SIR PETER goes L. and round behind sofa to C. as
BEATRICE and NORMANTOWER exit_)
NOR. (_reluctantly_) Good-bye then, for the present.
KATE. Au revoir! (_goes to L.C., NORMANTOWER is "struck," and suddenly
remembering turns. Exeunt LORD NORMANTOWER and BEATRICE into grounds
C. to R._)
SIR P. (_SIR PETER after watching them off, comes down R. of sofa and
points_) Sit down.
KATE. Don't order me about in that way, doctor. We're not in the
hospital now.
SIR P. Sit down. (_KATE sits, in burlesque obedience. He sits_) First
let me deliver my messages. The entire medical staff at Guy's send you
their kindest regards. (_Both on sofa, KATE L., SIR PETER R._)
KATE. (_facing audience_) That's very nice of them. On your return,
doctor, will you be so good as to give my kindest regards to the
entire medical staff at Guy's?
SIR P. The house-surgeon, Mr. Kennedy, I regret to say, sends you his
love.
KATE. Will you also give my love to Mr. Kennedy?
SIR P. The students send you a kiss apiece.
KATE. Will you please kiss the students all round. (_SIR PETER makes a
gesture of objection._)
SIR P. Are you sorry you changed your position?
KATE. No, Sir Peter. I have been very happy here. Mr. Selwyn has
always treated me with such consideration that, I am afraid, sometimes
I forget that I am not one of the family; Mrs. Selwyn has never been
_unkind_ to me, and Mildred I have learnt to love almost as a sister.
SIR P. Good. My object in introducing you here being accomplished, I
feel myself at liberty to explain it. The medical profession has its
romantic episodes. I am going to tell you one.
KATE. Go on. I love romances. (_faces SIR PETER_)
SIR P. Three years ago, a patient of mine died--nothing remarkable in
that--it's a habit my patients have--leaving a grown-up son and a
young daughter to inherit his very considerable fortune. He died
beloved by his children and respected by all who knew him, but on his
deathbed he confided to me a secret. He was a thief and a bigamist.
When very young he had married a rich lady. This marriage he had
concealed, and under a false name had married again. For some years he
had lived a double life and had two families. By his first and lawful
wife he had one child--a daughter; and having contrived to possess
himself of the whole of this lady's fortune, ultimately he deserted
her. The fortune of the first wife he left to his children by the
second, who are to this day quite unconscious of their father's crime.
KATE. Sir Peter!
SIR P. In his later years, he had searched privately for his first
wife and child, but he could find no trace of them. That search he
bequeathed to me, and a pretty legacy it's been! For a long time my
inquiries were unavailing, but at last I discovered that the mother
was dead.
KATE. And the daughter?
SIR P. Was one of my own nurses at Guy's Hospital.
KATE. At Guy's!
SIR P. I had known her by sight for months, but had not happened to
hear her name--Kate Derwent.
KATE. (_rising_) I?
SIR P. Sit down. (_KATE sinks back into seat_) What was I to do? All
this man's children were my personal friends. The two, who had legally
inherited your mother's fortune, morally were not entitled to a
shilling. You, who legally are penniless, morally are entitled to it
all. If ever there was a case for an amicable arrangement, this was
one; and I thought it would facilitate a settlement, if you were all
made acquainted with one another. With that object I introduced you
into this house.
KATE. Surely you cannot mean----
SIR P. I can--I do.
KATE. That Mr. Selwyn--(_rising_)
SIR P. Is your brother.
KATE. Mildred----
SIR P. Your sister.
KATE. And their father----
SIR P. Yours. Now comes the question; what is to be done?
KATE. (_with determination_) Nothing.
SIR P. How nothing?
KATE. You say they don't know anything. Not that their father
was--(_stops short_)
SIR P. A scoundrel? No.
KATE. Not that their mother----
SIR P. Was his victim? No.
KATE. Not who I am?
SIR P. Not who you are.
KATE. Then, let them never know it. (_crosses to R.C., L. of table_)
SIR P. Nonsense. I must see you properly provided for.
KATE. I am provided for. (_gets C._) I have earned my living for
years, and I can earn it to the end. I am not used to wealth, and
should not know what to do with it. They are, and could not be happy
without it. Let them remain in ignorance of the truth.
SIR P. (_rises and goes towards her, C._) Miss Derwent, you are a most
extraordinary person. I tell you, you are entitled to a fortune, and
you don't ask how much it is. A woman--and no curiosity.
KATE. I don't care how much it is or how little. I don't want to know.
(_turns away to front of table_)
SIR P. This is a matter of no less than two hundred thousand pounds.
Well?
KATE. I said nothing.
SIR P. Then will you please say something?
KATE. I have nothing to say.
SIR P. A woman--and nothing to say. You regard two hundred thousand
pounds with contempt. Think, how many new frocks it would buy. (_going
to her_)
KATE. I do not regard money with contempt; for money can sometimes buy
happiness. But we are all perfectly happy as we are. Why do you want
to disturb us?
SIR P. (_R. of table_) You think only of the present; but consider the
future. Some day, you may have a daughter of your own----
KATE. No, I shall never marry.
SIR P. Never what?
KATE. I am in earnest. (_goes down a few steps, R.C._)
SIR P. A woman--and not want to be married! Hang me, if I believe
you're a woman at all! (_goes to L.C._)
KATE. Why? Because I want to be generous?
SIR P. (_above KATE_) Miss Derwent, there is a higher virtue than
generosity, and that is justice. It is easy enough to be generous, but
it hard indeed to be just--especially to oneself. This is a question
of pounds, shillings, and pence.
KATE. (_works up to C._) Pardon me, Sir Peter--this is a question of
breaking the hearts of those who were kind to me when I needed
kindness, who befriended me when I was alone in the world, whom I have
already learned to love almost as what they are--my brother and
sister. Their father--my father--is dead, but his memory is dear to
them. I know they loved him--and I know they honoured him. How can I
imperil that love, and how can I stultify that honour? How can I cloud
the sunshine of my sister's life with the shadow of her father's sin?
No, Sir Peter! If that is justice, justice is beyond me. I am only
equal to generosity. I _am_ a woman, only a woman--and I can't do it.
Not for a hundred fortunes! Not for all the world. (_goes to L. of
table and sits_)
SIR P. (_goes up to C._) Yes, you are a woman after all--and as
self-willed and silly as the rest. To throw away two hundred thousand
pounds! Why, I've decimated my fellow creatures for half that. It's
wicked--positively wicked. You deserve to die in a ditch.
KATE. (_rises_) I will die where heaven wills it, but I shall at least
have the consciousness that I have done something to repair my
father's wrong.
SIR P. Rubbish--romantic rubbish.
KATE. Promise me that you will keep this secret--that you will say
nothing to my brother--promise me, Sir Peter.
SIR P. I shall promise nothing. I shall use my own discretion, as I
always do. (_turns off, L.C._)
KATE. Sir Peter! (_following him_)
SIR P. You are a foolish, obstinate, absurd--(_turns suddenly and
takes both her hands_)--good, generous, true-hearted girl, and I am
your friend always! Look here! I'm old enough to be your father--(_is
about to kiss her. Re-enter PRICE, R.D.; aside_) Damn that man! (_goes
L., PRICE sounds gong, R., below fire-place_)
_Music in orchestra till act drop. Re-enter TOM and MILDRED, running
in from grounds, followed by BEATRICE and LORD NORMANTOWER leisurely,
C. from R._
TOM. (_throwing his hat on R. table_) Lunch, at last! Aren't I ready
for it? (_runs off, R.D._)
MIL. (_throwing hers on the table_) Tom! Wait for me. (_runs off
R.D._)
_KATE looks from MILDRED to SIR PETER pathetically. Exit PRICE, R.D.
PHILIP appears on staircase, slowly coming down._
BEA. (_coming down C._) You must be hungry after your journey. (_R. of
LORD NORMANTOWER_)
NOR. (_coming down C._) Yes, thank heaven, my appetite is as
redoubtable as ever. Miss Derwent may--(_about to offer arm_)
BEA. (_cutting in_) Sir Peter, will you bring Miss Derwent?
_LORD NORMANTOWER is obliged to offer his arm to BEATRICE. Exit LORD
NORMANTOWER and BEATRICE, R. SIR PETER offers his arm to KATE whom he
takes R.C._
PHIL. (_on stairs_) Stop, doctor, stop. (_comes down to R. of KATE_)
Don't monopolise all the good things. Suppose we go shares. (_offers
his arm to KATE_)
KATE. (_between the two_) Don't be scandalised. (_to SIR PETER_) Mr.
Selwyn often gives me his arm. Here--(_looking at PHILIP_) I am more
like a friend than a dependant.
PHIL. (looking at KATE) More like a sister than a friend. (_exeunt,
R.D._)
SWELL MUSIC.
Quick Act Drop.
_Time: Thirty Minutes. Wait: Thirteen Minutes._