The Complete Plays of J. M. Barrie - 30 Titles in One Edition. Джеймс Барри
taps herself, complacently kisses au revoir to him, and COSENS, left alone, laughs boisterously, and sits. He is found in this condition by DR. YELLOWLEES, who comes binding but otherwise very professional, YELLOWLEES stares at COSENS’ amusement.)
YELLOWLEES. Dr. Cosens, isn’t it?
COSENS (pulling himself together). Eh? I beg pardon —
YELLOWLEES. You don’t remember me! I had the pleasure of meeting you here two years ago — Dr. Yellowlees.
COSENS. Ah, yes! You are attending the Professor, are you not?
YELLOWLEES. Yes; I understand he was in your hands before he left London.
COSENS. He was. But I wager he did not tell you what I thought was the matter with him.
YELLOWLEES. No. He said you’d been baffled.
COSENS. H’m! And you have been more successful?
YELLOWLEES. With all deference — excuse my saying I have.
COSENS. Capital! And what is the Professor’s ailment?
YELLOWLEES (casually). Lumbago!
COSENS (after staring at him). Lumbago! Splendid! Of course, it is lumbago. Why did I not think of that?
YELLOWLEES. We all make our little mistakes at times.
COSENS. Thanks. It’s very nice of you to put it in that way.
YELLOWLEES. Perhaps we of the younger school —
COSENS. Quite so. You know a thing or two more than we old fogies.
YELLOWLEES. Not at all, not at all. What did you think it was?
COSENS. I was going to say that I diagnosed the Professor’s ailment as a clear case of cherchez la femme.
YELLOWLEES (puzzled and making one word of it). Chershylafam? Something new?
COSENS. It’s all the rage in the south just now. Quite knocked out appendicitis.
YELLOWLEES. Chershy la fam! What are the symptoms?
COSENS. Obviously as in lumbago. Catches you in the back. Doubles you up.
YELLOWLEES. Ha!
(Enter LADY GILDING excitedly. She shrieks outside.
COSENS rises.)
LADY GILDING. Oh, oh!
YELLOWLEES. What’s the matter? (Meets her.)
LADY GILDING. Oh, that little imp, Lucy White — ugh!
COSENS. Again! What is she doing now?
LADY GILDING. She tried to put a mouse down my back.
YELLOWLEES. Most shameful. My dear lady, how could she have so presumed?
LADY GILDING. She said that I was looking so painfully respectable — that she felt she must make me jump. (Sits on stook.)
COSENS (who has been privately amused). I must tell her what I think of this. A mouse! Most offensive. (Exit.)
YELLOWLEES (comforting lady gilding). There, you’ll soon be yourself again, Lady Gilding, if you can contrive not to think of the mouse. Get it out of your mind’s eye.
LADY GILDING. But I can’t — ugh!
YELLOWLEES. Shall I call Sir George?
LADY GILDING. No, I don’t want to bother him, for he has been a little out of sorts for some days.
YELLOWLEES. That’s very true. That’s very true.
LADY GILDING. You have noticed it?
YELLOWLEES. Yes, yes! He isn’t quite himself. Bad colour. I have been keeping an eye on him.
LADY GILDING. What is wrong with him, Doctor?
YELLOWLEES. Eh — ah — oh, well —
LADY GILDING. He gets angry when I speak of it, which makes me the more anxious.
YELLOWLEES. Naturally. Irritable — a sure indication.
LADY GILDING. Tell me candidly, Doctor.
YELLOWLEES. Lady Gilding, I will. (Very importantly)
This is a case of — of chershy la fam.
LADY GILDING. What?
YELLOWLEES. Yes, indeed. Quite an epidemic of it in London this year.
LADY GILDING. Cherchez la femme!
YELLOWLEES. Precisely.
LADY GILDING. HOW dare you!
YELLOWLEES. No need for alarm, Lady Gilding. These cases have to run their course.
LADY GILDING (crying). Who is she?
YELLOWLEES. Eh?
LADY GILDING. You won’t tell me? Very well. But I shall go straight home and make inquiries, and I warn you and Sir George that I’ll find out before I am a day older.
(Exit in agitation, YELLOWLEES ponders. Enter COSENS and MISS GOODWILLIE.)
COSENS. Yes, a capital journey. Carriage to myself all the way. (He sees YELLOWLEES.) Ah, Doctor, did you get the mouse?
YELLOWLEES. You said Chershylafam, didn’t you?
COSENS. That’s it.
YELLOWLEES. I suppose I’ll find it among the S’s?
COSENS. Are you going to look it up in the books?
YELLOWLEES. I might as well.
COSENS. Good.
(YELLOWLEES bows and exits.)
(Amused.) Great! I like this fellow. I’ll tell you why presently. You are sure my visit does not put you about?
MISS GOODWILLIE. Quite the contrary. The only thing is, that you must sleep at the Inn.
COSENS. That will suit me famously.
MISS GOODWILLIE. Our cottage is so small that even Miss White had to get a bedroom in the village.
COSENS. Speaking of Miss White, I was looking for her just now when I met you.
MISS GOODWILLIE. Ah!
COSENS. How is she doing here?
(MISS GOODWILLIE makes depreciating gesture.) I thought so.
MISS GOODWILLIE. Why didn’t you write and tell me of what was going on in London?
COSENS. To begin with, it took me a week to find out.
MISS GOODWILLIE. It took me ten minutes.
COSENS. And, besides, to tell you the truth — Miss White was too clever for me.
MISS GOODWILLIE. Clever, bah! The stupidest woman is more than a match for the cleverest man.
COSENS. And she and I are neither one nor the other. Well, what is the situation now?
(LUCY’S voice is heard calling ‘Peepbo.’)
Eh!
MISS GOODWILLIE. Here they come. So you can judge for yourself.
(cosens and miss goodwillie kneel behind stack.
lucy again calls ‘Peepbo ‘ and hides by stack. She then calls ‘Peepbo.’ Enter professor gaily, with fishingrod and creel. He looks over rick and points at her. They don’t see miss goodwillie and cosens.)
PROFESSOR. Ah ha, found! Now, Miss Lucy, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You shall stay there and I’ll pretend I can’t find you.
LUCY (laughing). Don’t you think it’s rather childish.
PROFESSOR. Not at all! It’s splendid fun.
COSENS (rising). Peepbo! Hello, Tom!