Three Plays by Granville-Barker. Granville-Barker Harley
carnaby. Then that's settled . . pellucid.
He attempts to rise, but staggers backwards and forwards. sarah goes to him alarmed.
sarah. Papa! . . there's no rain yet.
carnaby. Hush, I'm dead.
ann. [Her nerves failing her.] Oh . . oh . . oh . . !
sarah. Abud, don't ever speak of this.
abud. No, my lady.
ann. [With a final effort.] I mean it all. Wait three months.
carnaby. Help me up steps . . son-in-law.
carnaby has started to grope his way indoors. But he reels and falls helpless.
abud. I'll carry him.
Throwing down his tools abud lifts the frail sick man and carries him towards the house. sarah follows.
ann. [Sobbing a little, and weary.] Such a long day it has been . . now ending.
She follows too.
THE FOURTH ACT
The hall at Markswayde is square; in decoration strictly eighteenth century. The floor polished. Then comes six feet of soberly painted wainscot and above the greenish blue and yellowish green wall painted into panels. At intervals are low relief pilasters; the capitals of these are gilded. The ceiling is white and in the centre of it there is a frosted glass dome through which a dull light struggles. Two sides only of the hall are seen.
In the corner is a hat stand and on it are many cloaks and hats and beneath it several pairs of very muddy boots.
In the middle of the left hand wall are the double doors of the dining-room led up to by three or four stairs with balusters, and on either side standing against the wall long, formal, straight backed sofas.
In the middle of the right hand wall is the front door; glass double doors can be seen and there is evidently a porch beyond. On the left of the front door a small window. On the right a large fireplace, in which a large fire is roaring. Over the front door, a clock (the hands pointing to half-past one.) Over the fireplace a family portrait (temp. Queen Anne) below this a blunderbuss and several horse-pistols. Above the sofa full-length family portraits (temp. George I.) Before the front door a wooden screen, of lighter wood than the wainscot, and in the middle of it a small glass panel. Before this a heavy square table on which are whips and sticks, a hat or two and brushes; by the table a wooden chair. On either side the fire stand tall closed-in armchairs, and between the fireplace and the door a smaller red-baize screen.
When the dining-room doors are thrown open another wooden screen is to be seen.
There are a few rugs on the floor, formally arranged.
mrs. opie stands in the middle of the hall, holding out a woman's brown cloak: she drops one side to fetch out her handkerchief and apply it to her eye. dimmuck comes in by the front door, which he carefully closes behind him. He is wrapped in a hooded cloak and carries a pair of boots and a newspaper. The boots he arranges to warm before the fire. Then he spreads the Chronicle newspaper upon the arm of a chair, then takes off his cloak and hangs it upon a peg close to the door.
dimmuck. Mrs. Opie . . will you look to its not scorching?
mrs. opie still mops her eyes. dimmuck goes towards the dining-room door, but turns.
dimmuck. Will you kindly see that the Chronicle newspaper does not burn?
mrs. opie. I was crying.
dimmuck. I leave this tomorrow sennight . . thankful, ma'am, to have given notice in a dignified manner.
mrs. opie. I understand . . Those persons at table . .
dimmuck. You give notice.
mrs. opie. Mr. Dimmuck, this is my home.
lord arthur carp comes out of the dining-room. He is a thinner and more earnest-looking edition of his brother. mrs. opie turns a chair and hangs the cloak to warm before the fire, and then goes into the dining-room.
lord arthur. My chaise round?
dimmuck. I've but just ordered it, my lord. Your lordship's man has give me your boots.
lord arthur. Does it snow?
dimmuck. Rather rain than snow.
lord arthur takes up the newspaper.
dimmuck. Yesterday's, my lord.
lord arthur. I've seen it. The mails don't hurry hereabouts. Can I be in London by the morning?
dimmuck. I should say you might be, my lord.
lord arthur sits by the fire, while dimmuck takes off his pumps and starts to put on his boots.
lord arthur. Is this a horse called "Ronald?"
dimmuck. Which horse, my lord?
lord arthur. Which I'm to take back with me . . my brother left here. I brought the mare he borrowed.
dimmuck. I remember, my lord. I'll enquire.
lord arthur. Tell Parker . .
dimmuck. Your lordship's man?
lord arthur. . . he'd better ride the beast.
sarah comes out of the dining-room. He stands up; one boot, one shoe.
sarah. Please put on the other.
lord arthur. Thank you . . I am in haste.
sarah. To depart before the bride's departure.
lord arthur. Does the bride go with the bridegroom?
sarah. She goes away.
lord arthur. I shall never see such a thing again.
sarah. I think this entertainment is unique.
lord arthur. Any commissions in town?
sarah. Why can't you stay to travel with us tomorrow and talk business to Papa by the way?
dimmuck carrying the pumps and after putting on his cloak goes out through the front door. When it is closed, her voice changes.
sarah. Why . . Arthur?
He does not answer. Then mrs. opie comes out of the dining-room to fetch the cloak. The two, with an effort, reconstruct their casual disjointed conversation.
sarah. . . Before the bride's departure?
lord arthur. Does the bride go away with the bridegroom?
sarah. She goes.
lord arthur. I shall never see such an entertainment again.
sarah. We are quite unique.
lord arthur. Any commissions in town?
sarah. Is she to go soon too, Mrs. Opie?
mrs. opie. It is arranged they are to walk . . in this weather . . ten miles . . to the house.
sarah. Cottage.
mrs. opie. Hut.
mrs. opie takes the cloak into the dining-room. Then sarah comes a little towards lord arthur, but waits for him to speak.
lord arthur. [A little awkwardly.] You are not looking well.
sarah. To our memory . . and beyond your little chat with my husband about