Three Plays by Granville-Barker. Granville-Barker Harley
to speak an epitaph.
lord arthur. Charlie Cottesham behaved most honourably.
sarah. And I think you did. Why have you not let me tell you so in your ear till now, to-day?
lord arthur. Sarah . . we had a narrow escape from …
sarah. How's your wife?
lord arthur. Well . . thank you.
sarah. Nervous, surely, at your travelling in winter?
lord arthur. I was so glad to receive a casual invitation from you and to come . . casually.
sarah. Fifty miles.
lord arthur. Your father has been ill?
sarah. Very ill through the autumn.
lord arthur. Do you think he suspects us?
sarah. I shouldn't care to peep into Papa's innermost mind. You are to be very useful to him.
lord arthur. No.
sarah. Then he'll go back to the government.
lord arthur. If he pleases . . if they please . . if you please.
sarah. I am not going back to my husband. Arthur . . be useful to him.
lord arthur. No . . you are not coming to me. Always your father! [After a moment.] It was my little home in the country somehow said aloud you didn't care for me.
sarah. I fooled you to small purpose.
lord arthur. I wish you had once made friends with my wife.
sarah. If we . . this house I'm speaking of . . had made friends where we've only made tools and fools we shouldn't now be cursed as we are . . all. George, who is a cork, trying to sink socially. Ann is mad . . and a runaway.
lord arthur. Sarah, I've been devilish fond of you.
sarah. Be useful to Papa. [He shakes his head, obstinately.] Praise me a little. Haven't I worked my best for my family?
lord arthur. Suppose I could be useful to him now, would you, in spite of all, come to me . . no half measures?
sarah. Arthur . . [He makes a little passionate movement towards her, but she is cold.] It's time for me to vanish from this world, because I've nothing left to sell.
lord arthur. I can't help him. I don't want you.
He turns away.
sarah. I feel I've done my best.
lord arthur. Keep your father quiet.
sarah. I mean to leave him.
lord arthur. What does he say to that?
sarah. I've not yet told him.
lord arthur. What happens?
sarah. To sell my jewels . . spoils of a ten years' war. Three thousand pound . . how much a year?
lord arthur. I'll buy them.
sarah. And return them? You have almost the right to make such a suggestion.
lord arthur. Stick to your father. He'll care for you?
sarah. No . . we all pride ourselves on our lack of sentiment.
lord arthur. You must take money from your husband.
sarah. I have earned that and spent it.
lord arthur. [Yielding once again to temptation.] I'm devilish fond of you …
At that moment abud comes out of the dining-room. He is dressed in his best. sarah responds readily to the interruption.
sarah. And you must give my kindest compliments to Lady Arthur and my . . affectionately . . to the children and I'll let Papa know that you're going.
lord arthur. Letters under cover to your father?
sarah. Papa will stay in town through the session of course . . but they all tell me that seventy-five pounds a year is a comfortable income in . . Timbuctoo.
She goes into the dining-room. abud has selected his boots from the corner and now stands with them in his hand looking rather helpless. After a moment—
lord arthur. I congratulate you, Mr. Abud.
abud. My lord . . I can't speak of myself.
carnaby comes out of the dining-room. He is evidently by no means recovered from his illness. He stands for a moment with an ironical eye on john abud.
carnaby. Son-in-law.
abud. I'm told to get on my boots, sir.
carnaby. Allow me to assist you?
abud. I couldn't, sir.
carnaby. Désolé!
Then he passes on. abud sits on the sofa, furtively puts on his boots and afterwards puts his shoes in his pockets.
lord arthur. You were so busy drinking health to the two fat farmers that I wouldn't interrupt you.
carnaby. Good-bye. Describe all this to your brother John.
lord arthur. So confirmed a bachelor!
carnaby. Please say that we missed him.
lord arthur hands him the newspaper.
lord arthur. I've out-raced your Chronicle from London by some hours. There's a paragraph . . second column . . near the bottom.
carnaby. [Looking at it blindly.] They print villainously now-a-days.
lord arthur. Inspired.
carnaby. I trust his grace is well?
lord arthur. Gouty.
carnaby. Now doesn't the social aspect of this case interest you?
lord arthur. I object to feeding with the lower classes.
carnaby. There's pride! How useful to note their simple manners! From the meeting of extremes new ideas spring . . new life.
lord arthur. Take that for a new social-political creed, Mr. Leete.
carnaby. Do I lack one?
lord arthur. Please make my adieux to the bride.
carnaby. Appropriate … 'à Dieu' . . she enters Nature's cloister. My epigram.
lord arthur. But . . good heavens . . are we to choose to be toiling animals?
carnaby. To be such is my daughter's ambition.
lord arthur. You have not read that.
carnaby. [Giving back the paper, vexedly.] I can't see.
lord arthur. "The Right Honourable Carnaby Leete is, we are glad to hear, completely recovered and will return to town for the opening of Session."
carnaby. I mentioned it.
lord arthur. "We understand that although there has been no reconciliation with the Government it is quite untrue that this gentleman will in any way resume his connection with the Opposition."
carnaby. Inspired?
lord arthur. I am here from my father to answer any questions.
carnaby. [With some dignity and the touch of a threat.] Not now, my lord.
dimmuck comes in at the front door.
dimmuck. The chaise, my lord.
carnaby. I will conduct you.
lord arthur. Please don't risk exposure.
carnaby. Nay, I insist.