THE PLAYS OF HENRY ARTHUR JONES THE DANCING GIRL B Drama in four Bets BY HENRY ARTHUR JONES COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY HENRY ARTHUR JONES PRICE 50 CENTS NEW YORK SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 28-30 WEST 38TH STREET LONDON SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD. 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND THE DANCING GIRL A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS BT HENRY ARTHUR JONES COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY HENRY ARTHUR JONES CAUTION This play is fully protected under the copyright lawf of the United States, is subject to royalty, and any one pre- senting the play without the consent or the author or his agents, will be liable to penalty under the law. All applications for amateur performances must be made to SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West s8th Street, New York City. NEW YORK SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 28-30 WEST 38TH STREET LONDON SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD. 36 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND To H. BEERBOHM TREE My dear Tree: In sending the sheets of "THE DANCING GIRL" through the press, I am forcibly reminded that the English drama has not remained stationary in the sixteen years that have passed since your pro- duction of this play. I may perhaps be alloived to put your name on its first page, and to thank you for your most attract- ive impersonation of the Duke of Guisebury, and for your admirable stage management especially for your striking arrangement of the end of the third act. Faithfully yours, HENRT ARTHUR JONES Afril, 1907 PERSONS REPRESENTED. THE DUKE OF GUISEBURY. THE HON. REGINALD SLINGSBY. DAVID IVES. JOHN CHRISTISON. MR. CRAKE, the Duke's land agent. GOLDSPINK, the Duke's valet. CAFFAIN STEPHEN LEDDRA. STEPHEN LEDDRA, his son, a child. MR. AUGUSTUS CHEEVERS. LORD MAITLAND. LORD BRISLINGTON. SIR HENRY DRYSDALE. SIR LIONEL BALDWIN. MR. AUGUSTUS ANSTRUTHER. MR. VANSTONE. SlGNOR PONIATOWSKI. CHARLES, a footman. JAMES, a footman. DRUSILLA IVES. FAITH IVES. SIBYL CRAKE. LADY BAWTRY, the Duke's aunt MRS. CHRISTISON. MRS. LEDDRA. SISTER BEATRICE. LADY POPEROACH. ISABEL POPEROACH. LADY BRISLINGTON. LADY MAITLAND. LADY BALDWIN. Miss BALDWIN. Miss ANSTRUTHER. FISHERMEN, TENANTS, VILLAGERS, GUESTS, CHILDREN, ETC. 3 THE DANCING GIRL ACT I. THE BEAUTIFUL PAGAN. SCENE The Islt P* Endellion. (Two years pass between Acts i ana i.) ACT II. SCENE Diana Valrose's Boudoir at Richmond. (Six months pass between Acts 2 and 3.) ACT III. THE LAST FEAST. SCENE Reception-room at the Duke of Guisebury's town house, St. James' Park. (Two years pass between Acts j and 4.) ACT IV. Same scene as Act I. The following is a copy of the playbill of the first perform- ance of " The Dancing Girl" at the Haymarket Theatre, London. THURSDAY. JANUARY l.VTH. J8 9 1 At 8 o'Clock, a New and Original Play of Modern English Life, in Four Acts, entitled THE DANCING GIRL BY HENRY ARTHUR JONES. THE DUKE OF GUISEBURY Mr. Tree. HON. REGINALD SLINGSBY Mr. F. Kerr. AUGUSTUS CHEEVERS Mr. Batson. DAVID IVES Mr. Fernandez. JOHN CHRISTISON Mr. Fred Terry. MR. CRAKE Mr. Allan. Mr. GOLDSPINK Mr. Robb Harwood. CAPTAIN LEDDRA Mr. Charles Hudson. CHARLES Mr. Leith. LADY BAWTRY Miss Rose Leclercq. LADY BRISLINGTON Miss Adelaide Gunn. SYBIL CRAKE Miss Norreys. DRUSILLA IVES Miss Julia Neilson. FAITH IvES Miss Blanche Horlock. MRS. CHRISTISON. Miss Ayrtoun. MRS. LEDDRA Mrs. E. H. Brooke. SISTER BEATRICE Miss Hethcote. SYNOPSIS OF SCENERY. ACT I. THE BEAUTIFUL PAGAN. SCENE. The Isle of St. Endellion. Fifteen months pass. ACT II. THE BROKEN BOWL. SCENE. Villa at Richmond. ACT III. THE LAST FEAST. SCENE. Guisebury House, Saint James's Park. Two years pass. ACT IV. THE DESIRED HAVEN. SCENE. The Isle of St. Endellion. 5 The following is a copy of the playbill of the first performance of " The Dancing Girl' 1 ' 1 at the Lyceum Theatre, Netv York New York Theatre Co Proprietors Daniel Frohman Manager WEEK COMMENCING MONDAY, AUGUST 31st, 1891 Evenings 8.15 Matinees Wed. and Sat. at 2 Fifth Annual Engagement (under the Management of DANIEL FROHMAN) of E. H. SOTHERN In the New and Original Play of Modern English Life, in Four Acts, entitled THE DANCING GIRL By HENRY ARTHUR JONES THE DUKE OF GUISEBURY (VALENTINE DANECOURT) E. H. SOTHERN HON. REGINALD SLINGSBY Morton Selten DAVID IVES .... Harry Eytinge JOHN CHRISTISON . . .Wright Huntington MR. CRAKE Rowland Buckstone STEPHEN GRAUNT H. W. Montgomery GOLDSPINK , Tully Marshall AUGUSTUS CHEEVERS L. Clarke CHARLES Frank Leiden CAPT. LEDDRA W. H. Pope HERR PONIATOUSKI Mr. Montgomery DRUSILLA IVES Virginia Harned FAITH IVES Bessie Tyree SYBIL CRAKE (MIDGE) Jennie Dunbar LADY BAWTRY Mrs. Kate Pattison-Selten LADY BRISLINGTON Mary Elliott LADY POPEROACH Miss Hern MRS. CHRISTISON Mrs. Josephine Laurens MRS. LEDDRA Mrs. Lauer MRS. GRAUNT Clara Daymer SISTER BEATRICE Blanche Weaver ACT I. THE BEAUTIFUL PAGAN. SCENE. The Isle of St. Endellion (Sicily Islands) (Fifteen months pass) ACT II. THE BROKEN BOWL SCENE. Villa at Richmond ACT III. THE LAST FEAST SCENE. Guisebury House, St. James' Park, London (Two years pass) ACT IV. The Desired Haven SCENE. The Isle of St. Endellion ACT I. SCENE. The Island of Saint Endellion, off the Cornish Coast. At the back is a line of low rocks, and beyond, the sea. A pathway leads through the rocks down to the sea. On the right side of the stage is the Quakers' meeting- house, a plain square granite building, showing a door and two windows. The meeting-house is built on a low insular rock that rises some three or four feet above the stage ; it is approached by pathways, leading up from the stage. On the left side of the stage, down towards the audience, is David Ives's house ; another plain granite building, with a door down stage, and above the door, a window. The house is built into a cliff that rises above it. Beyond the house, is a pathway that leads up the cliff and disappears amongst the rocks on the left side towards the centre of the stage, a little to the right is a piece of rock rising about two feet from the stage. Time, an Autumn evening. I. Call. John Chriati* ton. Faith Ive.s. David Ives. Drusilla Ivet. ACT I. Back Cloth Representing Sealine Low Rock Pieces 2 to 3 Feet High Kock Pieces j;- Jt.S~ vm-7 Eight Left r ACT I. THE BEAUTIFUL PAGAN. SCENE : The Isle of Endellion. [JOHN CHRISTISON discovered looking in at the window of DAVID'S house* JOHN. 2 Thou miracle of grace and beauty! Thou one de- sire of my heart ! No ! 3 Grant me this, that loving her so much I may ever love Thee more ! Grant me that she may never come betwixt my soul and Thee ! [Enter FAITH from house* She is in Quaker dress; about twenty, very modest, pleased, timid.] 5 FAITH. 6 You have left work early to-day, John? JOHN. 7 I can't work. These last few weeks my thoughts go astray, my hands rebel against me. 8 My body's down there at the breakwater, but my heart and spirit and soul are here here in your house, Faith. John! [FAITH pleased, trembling, turns her head aside.] 9 Sunset Effect as Curtain Rises. Music Andante till Curtain up. 1 L. back to au- dience. 8 Turns round to audience ; speaks very fervently. * Faith enters from house crossing c., she. sees John L. and stops c. * c. 7 L. turning R. Coming to- wards her to L. c. Towards right. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 Coming to- wards her. * Glances at him with one keen look. Down stage R. o. R. c. a JOHN. 1 Is there any hope for me? Does she ever speak of me? She? 2 Drusilla. FAITH. JOHN. [FAITH turns quickly away from him? hides her face from him; after an effort, speaks in a quiet, unmoved tone.] FAITH. 4 How long have you loved her ? JOHN. 5 Ever since she came back from London. FAITH. Three weeks. JOHN. It's seven years if you measure it by the love I've loved her with. [DRUSILLA passes the window inside cot- tage. FAITH takes off a white silk scarf she has been wearing round neck, and after a struggle, kisses it; then hiding her feeling so far as she can, gives it to him.] FAITH. 6 John, I've been forgetting all this while this hand- kerchief has been a sore temptation to me since you gave it to me JOHN. 7 Nay, it's harmless. FAITH. Nay, I'm inclined to gauds and finery. Indeed my 10 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I heart is full of vain thoughts. Take it back, John. You would not have it lead me away from heavenly things. JOHN. What can I do with it ? It's a woman's belongings. FAITH. Give it to Drusilla. She is more staid and thought- ful than I am. [Very fervently.} I hope she will love thee. Indeed she shall ! It will be pleasant to have thee for a brother. Stay here ! I'll bring her to thee. [FAITH runs into the house. DAVID IVES, a Quaker, about fifty, comes on. 1 JOHN is looking into cottage, he puts hand- kerchief into his pocket.] DAVID. 2 You've come early to week-night meeting, John. JOHN. 3 The spirit moved me, David. DAVID. 4 Don't be ashamed, John. It is the spirit that moves young men towards maidens. Love doesn't come from the Devil. The spirit moved me to wed the best mother of the best two maidens. I mustn't boast. 5 Which is it, John ? Faith or Drusilla ? JOHN. 6 [after a shame-faced pause.] Drusilla. DAVID. 7 [a little surprised.] Drusilla?! I thought it was likely to be Faith. Drusilla?! You've not seen her for seven years. She's never been home here in Endellion except for a week or two at a time. ii 1 L.U. K. 1 Comes down L. c. behind John L. Turns round, embarrassed, Coming c. 8 Comes nearer to John. 'c. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. I 'L.C. * Dropping his voice to on impressive whisper. * Stops, pauses. 6 I. C. With an out- burst. L.C. After a pause of reflection. JOHN. 1 But she's grown so beautiful ! DAVID. [Quickly.] Hold thy peace! Choose a wife for her beauty! JOHN. Thy wife, her mother, was beautiful ! DAviD. 2 [After a pause, very impressively.] Ay and her goodness was of a piece with her beauty ! I made an idol of her, and 3 sometimes I think I was punished. 4 She only lived three months after Faith's birth. [A long deep sigh; then, having dismissed the subject, changes his tone.'] Drusilla! But she must go back to her situation in London JOHN. 5 Let me persuade her to stay in Endellion. DAVID. 6 And keep her near me? You know how my heart has ached for her all the seven years she has been away from me! But I've denied myself lest I should make an idol of her too, and she should be taken from me as her mother was. Besides, she's happy in London, and she's with godly people, though they're not of our persuasion. John, why do you tempt me? 7 JOHN. 8 You said just now " Love doesn't come from the Devil." DAVID. 9 Speak to her, John. Ask her to be your wife. Not one word, good or bad, will I say. [JOHN grasps DAVID'S hand very warmly.] But hold times are 12 SC I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I bad, and Endellion is little better than a barren rock. There's your dear mother to keep, and you've set yourself a giant's task to build that breakwater. There's years of work before you, and you mustn't give it up, John. JOHN. Give it up!? Do you think I could ever forget that night, and my promise to my father? DAVID. That's right. A promise always binds but a promise to a dying father binds seven times. JOHN. I'll never rest till the last stone is laid. But I could work with double the strength if Drusilla would wed me. I could keep her in comfort, David, and perhaps I could prevail with the Duke to give me help. [Enter from house, FAITH and DRUSILLA. DRUSILLA is very beautiful, demure, dressed in Quaker fashion, but hand- somely. They enter behind DAVID and JOHN, and come down unobserved.] DAVID. [Very scornfully.] The Duke! Trust no Duke, lad! Trust to thine own right hand, and thy work shall stand sure and drive back the Atlantic. [Scornfully.] The Duke! Let him waste his substance in riotous living with his sinful companions! You'll get no help from him ! Leave him to dance to destruction with his dancing baggages this what d'ye call her? Some heathen name Diana Valrose! [Suddenly sees DRUSILLA, stops short, drops his voice.] I was speaking of matters, my dear, that you know 13 ACT I THE DANCING GIRL SC. I nothing of. John wants to speak with you. Weigh wdl what he of house L. D rusill a moves down R. Faith cr os set to John. 1 Into house L. * Up L. c. B.O. FAITH. [Aside to JOHN.] I've said a good word for thee. She says she has no thought of marriage, but she will hear thee. [Exit FAITH.] 2 DAvm. 3 [Calling into house.'] Faith, get me a cup of tea and [glancing at him- self.'] And I'll give myself a wash for the week- night meeting. [Goes to door of house, glances round with great pride at DRUSILLA.] My firstling ! [Exit into house. JOHN goes to DRUSILLA, who stands very demurely, with eyes cast down on the ground; pause."] DRUS. 4 Why dost thou not speak ? [JOHN, very much embarrassed, awkward, trembling, jerky in his utterance, does not look at her.] JOHN. 5 Thou art quite happy in London, Drusilla? DRUS." Alas, friend John, I am quite happy! And that is what makes me so sad. JOHN. Sad because you are happy ? DRUS. Yes, John, for to tell you the honest truth, I am not quite good and therefore I ought not to be quite happy but alas ! 7 am. JOHN. I do not understand you. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I DRUS. That's not strange, for I do not understand myself. JOHN. [Very earnestly.] Brasilia could you live all your life in Endellion? DRUS. I could, John, but I do not think I should live very long. JOHN. Why not? DRUS. I could not live in an island where they play har- moniums on Sunday afternoon. JOHN. [Embarrassed.] Then I may not ask you to DRUS. [With cordial encouragement.] Ask me anything you please, friend John. JOHN. [Very hopeful.] Then, Drusilla will you ? DRUS. [Unconcerned, demure.] Will I live in Endellion? [Considering.] It is very healthy Sarah Bazeley has lived to a hundred and two JOHN. [Dubiously.] Yes DRUS. But I should like to die while I am well-favored, and have all my wits, and teeth, and hair, because I should be very sorrowful hereafter without them. JOHN. But wilt thou live in Endellion ? ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i DRUS. The air is soft and pleasant, and moreover all who live here must needs be very good. II. Call. Faith Ives. Reginald Slingsby, Duke of Ouisebury. 1 Sitting on rock R. hold- ing out her foot. 1 John kneels, takes off slip- per ana gives it to her. Why? JOHN. DRUS. Because they have no means of falling into evil. JOHN. It is indeed a favored spot. DRUS. Ah, friend John, but what merit is there in good- ness when it" is forced ? Now as I told thee, there is little goodness in me JOHN. Thou art all goodness ! Oh, Drusilla, have pity on me! [Approaching her.] DRUS. [Starts away from him.] Nay, but John, have pity on me ! [Lifting up her foot.] JOHN. What ails thee? DRUS. There is a stone in my slipper. 1 It hurts me. 2 [JOHN takes off her slipper.] The shoemaker who made my slippers told me I had the prettiest foot in London. Is it not wicked of him to fill my heart with vanity ? JOHN. [Kneeling still.] Have you found it? DRUS. [Putting on slipper.] There is nothing in it. 16 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I 1 On hit knees before her. gazes up at her with pas- sion. * Crossing above John to L. C. 4 L. C. JOHN. [Suddenly.] * I love thee ! Love me, or I shall die ! DRUS. 2 You are foolish! [Going away from him; looking at him.] JOHN. [Rises, comes up to her with fierce passion.] 5 I love thee ! Wilt thou wed me ? DRUS. 4 I have not thought of it. JOHN. [Same tone as before.] I love thee ! Wilt thou wed me ? [Seising her arm.] DRUS. You should not woo me so you are too rough ! [Withdrawing her arm.] JOHN. I know not how to woo I love thee! Wilt thou wed me ? Say me yea or nay. DRUS. I am sorry, friend John, but I must say thee " nay." [He looks at her.] Indeed I mean it. [His hands drop with a despairing gesture; he stands quiet, hopeless, stricken for a few seconds.] JOHN. [Very hopelessly.] If you ever want a man's love, you know where to find it. [Goes off 5 very slowly, downcast, despair- ing.] 2 17 above house. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 Moving c. Hiding her head. Hiding her head on Drus.' breast. DRUS. Poor fellow. [Looking after him.~\ He looked rather handsome ! Should I [FAITH enters from house.} 2 FAITH. What answer have you given him? You will marry him? DRUS. No, indeed. I do not love him and yet he looked very comely with his red and tanned face. Tell me, Faith don't you love him yourself? FAITH. No at least six weeks ago 3 Tell me. DRUS. FAITH. I had never thought about any man but when he returned from Penzance, he brought me a handker- chief and he took my hand that night, and looked at me a long while Go on. DRUS. FAITH. My heart beat very fast, and the next day when I saw him coming, I hid away from him I was ashamed! Drusilla, have you never had thoughts of love ? 4 DRUS. Thoughts are like birds! They will come and roost ! FAITH. But in London has no man tried to persuade you to love him ? 18 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I DRUS. One or two men have tried. FAITH. You know / would tell you everything. Tell me everything about yourself. Do you love any man? DRUS. We are commended to love all men. 1 FAITH. Yes, but with that surpassing love. DRUS. I do not think I could love any man with a surpass- ing love. And yet [Yawns, stretches out her arms above her head, sighs.] I don't know if I could have a man after my own heart FAITH. A very good man- DRUS. A perfect man! I could love him all a summer afternoon. [Jumps up.] Ah! We are talking foolishly. I wonder where John has gone. 2 [Looking after JOHN ; meets REGY SLINGSBY who enters. 5 REGY is a modern, old- young man, about thirty-three, nearly bald. He shows great surprise at see- ing DRUSILLA, stops dead takes off his hat and bows. DRUSILLA looks at him unmoved.] Friend! Why dost thou look at me? I do not know thee. [REGY disconcerted, stands hat in hand, 4 looking at her.] Put on thy hat. Sunstrokes are frequent in Endel- 19 ^Sitting on rock R. c. 1 Goes*. ' L. U. E. m. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i lion, and when one has a weak place, it is foolish to expose it to injury. REGY. [Puts on his hat.'] I beg pardon I mistook you I- * Comes c. 8 Regy turns to go R. u. E. 4 From behind meeting- house, R. u B. * Coming down R. C. c. 1 Glancin g from him to window. Pointing R. u. [Laughs foolishly.'] DRUS. Do not make that mistake again, friend. Come, Faith! [Takes FAITH'S arm, goes with her towards house; REGY is still staring.] FAITH. A tourist ! Why does he stare at you ? DRUS. He thinks he knows me. It's strange! So many folks make that mistake. [Exeunt DRUSILLA and FAITH into house.] 1 REGY. 2 Well, I if it isn't her [Goes up path; s meets DUKE OF GUISE- BURY who enters; 4 both exclaim "Hillo!"] Guise ! Well, I am What the devil GUISE. 5 Hush, Regy! You're in the Island of Endellion where bad language, scarlet fever, hydrophobia and immorality have never entered. REGY.' But you're here and 7 GUISE. My yacht's off that point. 8 I've only called in for a few hours, strictly incog. 20 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I 1 Waters flower on window ledge. * Trying to take him away R. 1 Hanging back. REGY. Incog. ? I say, do you know who's down here ? [DRUSILLA passes the window.] 1 There it is Diana Valrose! GUISE. 2 Nonsense, Regy! REGY. S I'll swear it is ! And you down here too ! It must GUISE. That young lady is Drusilla Ives the eminently re- spectable Quaker daughter of one of my eminently respectable Quaker tenants. Now come I'll show you my new yacht. REGY. No. If that isn't Diana Valrose, I shall try and get an introduction to her. GUISE. You'll oblige me, Regy, by not noticing that lady. REGY. Look here, Guise own up. It is Diana Miss Valrose Why I met her at your table. 4 GUISE. B Hush ! The fact is she's a native of this place. REGY. How did you get to know her, then ? GUISE. I'll tell you. 6 Her father sent her up to a situ- ation in London, and five years ago she called on me as her father's landlord for a subscription to some charity affair I saw she was two-thirds de- 21 * O o t n flr, to- wards cot- tage. * Following and bringing him back. Duke sits on rock R. c. tak- ing out ciga- rette case. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i lightful Quaker innocence, and one-third the devil's own wit and mischief, so I gave her the subscrip- tion! 1 Foot on rock. ' Ri33. 'Sitting on rock. And now? REGY. 1 GUISE. Well, don't ask me any more, Regy. I've been a confounded fool all through, but somehow I can't help it. It's a damned silly thing to say I really love that woman ! REGY. But where did she get her style and tone from? Anyone would think she was a lady. GUISE. [With meaning.] 2 I've never met, Regy, with anyone who has pre- sumed to think otherwise in my presence. She had the best masters. She astonished me with the amount of things she learnt, and the way she dropped the Quaker, and became well, she's a Pagan ! Three years ago she took a fancy to danc- ing. Last season she began dancing for some charities, and her long skirts took the town by storm. She got asked to lots of places, and that's the whole history of it, Regy. And her people? REGY. GUISE. Oh, they think she's in a situation in London. Most people believe what pleases them. 3 It's good for them. I never disturb a good, comfortable fiction it's against my conservative principles. REGY. 4 She's made you dance to a pretty tune, Guise. House in Mayfair, race-horses, carriages, diamonds 22 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I 1 Smoking. what would it all tot up to, Guise? A hundred thousand pounds! GUISE. 1 Perhaps. But she's never bored me. REGY. Can't you pull up ? GUISE. 2 What for ? She's never bored me. REGY. Do you mean to let her ruin you ? GUISE. 3 Why not ? She's never bored me. REGY. Not down in this hole? GUISE. Don't you go depreciating my property. I've only just got here. She, like a dutiful daughter, took a fancy to visit her people, and I, like a dutiful land- lord, took a fancy to visit my tenants I haven't been to Endellion for eighteen years. REGY. You're a model landlord. GUISE. I am. I take two thousand a year from Endellion in rents, and I spend three in repairs, and keeping the sea out. What brings you to this hole ? 4 REGY. 5 I wanted to get out of town, away from everybody so I came here. The fact is, Guise {confiden- tially'] I've made a fool of myself! 23 ' Puff- III. Call. David Ives. Drusilla Ives. Tinge of curi- osity. 8 Uncomfort- able. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i i Rising. *Pufflng ciga- rette. GUISE. 1 What, again! The third time! After Bowler's cross-examination, and after those damages as ex- emplary as your behavior. [Shaking his head.] Regy, Regy, you're a bad lot bad lot, Regy ! REGY. No, no, old fellow. Not that I've been really go- ing straight lately. GUISE. Ah, twice bit, once shy, I see ! What silly mess have you got yourself into now ? REGY. [calmly.] I'm engaged to be married. [The two men look at each other calmly for some seconds.] GUISE. What, again! [Calmly.] 2 Who's landed you? REGY. One of the Poperoach girls Isabel. GUISE. Isabel? Oh, yes. Tall girl, with large features, high cheek-bones, and a lot of wispy, straw-colored hair eh ? REGY. [Dubiously.'} Yes. It may turn out all right, you know ? GUISE. Think so? REGY. Lady Poperoach has been trying to catch me all the season. I could see their game. Will you walk into my parlor? And in I walked. And the old woman slammed the door. And there it was staring at me in the Morning Post the next morning. [Looks very depressed; GUISE laughs.] 24 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I REGY. [Piteously.] Don't be hard on a fellow. Isabel's got some good points eh ? [Anxiously.] What do you think of her? Really now not bad, take her altogether? GUISE. I'd rather take her in instalments! REGY. 1 It isn't Isabel so much as the old woman. Lady Poperoach does come the old soldier over everybody. It's awful ! GUISE. 2 How is it you're not on duty? REGY. 3 Well, as soon as it was all you know settled, I thought I should like to have a few days to myself and think it over. So I got away just well, just to get used to the idea. GUISE. [Benevolently.'] Get used to it, Regy don't hurry, but get used to it. REGY. [Valiantly]. Oh, I'm in for it, and I mean to go through it like a man. [DAVID enters'] 4 GUISE. [To REGY.] One of my Quaker tenants. They don't know me don't know I'm in the island. Regy, here's a chance of hearing an honest opinion of myself. REGY. I say [GuiSE puts him away.] 5 Well I'm [Exit* 25 * Moody, walk- ing to L.. and back to Quite. * L. coming backc. House, at door it. 6 Up stage. Regy exit back of meet- ing-house. 6 R. U. E. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 Ooes towards David. * Coming to L. c. GUISE. 1 Very charming spot, this Isle of Endellion ! DAVID. 2 We're highly favored in many respects, friend. GUISE. 3 Who's the owner of this property? [DRUS. comes to door and listens. DAVID. 4 Valentine Danecourt His Grace the Duke of Guisebury and the Earl of St. Endellion, they call him. GUISE. 5 Of course. You are highly favored. A philan- thropist, isn't he? DAVID. I've heard him called many names, but I've never heard that title given to him. GUISE. Perhaps you don't know him. DAVID. No, friend, but I have received a very evil report of him. GUISE. Ah ! From the Radical papers ! DAVID. No, from his own actions. He wants no other ac- cusers. GUISE. What particular shape does his infamy take? 26 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I DAVID. All shapes. A spendthrift, a libertine, a gambler with cards and horses. GUISE. The rascal ! The damned rascal ! DAVID. Yes, friend. That's a strong word to use, but it's the right one ! GUISE. [Amused.'] He hasn't killed anybody, I suppose? DAVID. Yes, he has. GUISE. [Highly amused.] A murderer as well! [Aside.] I'm getting on! DAVID. The law wouldn't call it murder, but his conscience would, if he had one. GUISE. What do you mean? DAVID. Two years ago, my friend Mark Christison was struck in the high tide, as he was trying to save his home from destruction. He died and his wife went out of her mind. What Valentine Danecourt wastes on his dancing creatures would have built a break- water, and saved Mark Christison's life. GUISE. [Aside.] l He's right. I am a blackguard ! [Stands thought- ful.] DRUS. [To her father.] 2 Your tea's ready, father ! GUISE. [Aside.] 8 Di's father! 27 1 Going B. * Coming do-wn L. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i * David moves up a little towards cot- tage L. 4 Crossing c. 5 a. c. c. DRUS. 1 What have you been saying to the stranger? DAVID. 2 I've been telling him my opinion of Valentine Dane- court. 3 DRUS. [Mischievously.] 4 I hope you have been pleasantly entertained, friend. GUISE. [Ironically.] 5 Oh, most pleasantly. DRUS. 6 In London where I live there is grievous talk of the Duke's misdeeds. GUISE. 7 So there is in Endellion, it seems. DAVID. [To GUISE.] 8 Do you know this Duke? GUISE. 9 I have met him, but if he's as bad as you say, I shall keep out of his way for the future. DAVID. Aye, do, friend. Come, Drusilla. 10 [REGY runs on.] u REGY. 12 I say, Guisebury, old fellow L. near door. a. c. 10 Turns to go into house. 11 R. u. E. Regy speaks as he runs on ; stops short as David turns; remains up c. u L. near door. "L. WL.C. "B.C. DAVID. [Turns sharply round.] 1S Guisebury! Guisebury! Go indoors, Drusilla! [DRUS. exit into house. DAVID 15 turns to GUISE.] 16 Then you are Valentine Danecourt, yourself? 28 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I GUISE. 1 At your service. DAVID. [After a pause.] a I suppose I may take a year's notice to quit my house and land. GUISE. 3 Not at all. I'm a very bad landlord, Mr. Ives, but you're a very good tenant. I'm glad to have heard your candid opinion of me. DAVID. 4 .You're quite welcome. GUISE. 8 I regret to say that all you have said of me is quite true. I am a thoroughly bad lot, and the worst of it is there's not the least chance of my reformation. However, if you want any repairs doing, my agent, Crake, is down here with me let him know and they shall be done. Thank you. 6 DAVID. GUISE. 7 And in the meantime, friend Ives, as I never knew Mr. Christison, have no precise knowledge of high tides, and was at Monte Carlo at the time of his death, I think you may stretch a point in my favor and call it manslaughter for the future eh, friend? DAVID. [Seriously.] 8 Harkee, friend Remember your promise Keep out of the Duke of Guisebury's way for the future. You'll be wise. [Exit into house.] 9 REGY. 10 I'm afraid I've put my foot in it again ! 29 1 Comes G. L.O. IV. Call. Mr. Crake. Sybil Crake. c. c. Going t. T c. moving L. a ^Coming down c. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 Crossing R. * L. u. E. above house. R.C. * L. c. Duke sits R. c., lights an- other ciga- rette, c. * L. C. Sybil enters L. u. E., comes down K. c. L. from path- way. GUISE. 1 What made you blurt out my name when I told you I was here incog? REGY. 2 I'm awfully sorry, old fellow. Hallo! Here's what's-his-name. [Enter CRAKE, the DUKE'S steward and land agent, about 50.] 3 GUISE. 4 Here's Crake you know Crake? CRAKE. [A little surprised on seeing REGY.] Mr. Slingsby, how d'ye do ? 6 REGY. 6 I'm not very well. CRAKE. 7 I saw the joyful news in the Morning Post. REGY. [Sheepishly.'] Yes. It's the right sort of thing to do, eh, Crake ? [CRAKE does not reply. ] No, but candidly, Crake after a fellow's knocked about for a great many years as I have, there conies a time when he thinks " I'm having a jolly good time of it now, but who's going to nurse me and take care of me when I get into the sere and yellow leaf? " A man must look at it a little in that light. 8 [CRAKE goes up a little. SYBIL CRAKE en- ters; an odd, elfin girl, about 20, lame, with crutches, very bright, sprightly, alert, she hops on, Q comes up to GUISE. GUISE'S manner towards her is protect- ing, something like a master to a favor- ite dog.] 30 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I GUISE. 1 Well, Midge, what have you been doing? SYBIL. 2 Wishing I was a millionaire, or a bricklayer, or a horsewhip. GUISE. 3 Why? SYBIL. 4 If I were a millionaire, I could build that break- water; if I were a bricklayer, I could help poor young Christison build it; if I were a horsewhip, I might whip all the people who brought you up, and between them spoiled a good man in the making. CRAKE. [Very reprovingly.'] 5 Sybil! Sybil! GUISE. 6 I've spoiled myself, Midge. SYB. [Hops across to REGY.] 7 Mr. Slingsby, how are you ? REGY. 8 I'm not very well. SYB. 9 I've heard some good news about you. REGY. 10 Yes? She's rather a jolly girl, you know. Very good at repartee. GUISE. " That's an awkward talent in a wife, Regy. REGY. 12 Look here, Guise, you needn't choke me off; I'm in 1 R. c. seated on rock. * R. c. c. V. Call. Mr. Leddra. Mrs. Leddra. Stephen Led- dra. Mrs.Christi- son. David Ives. Drusilla Ives. John Christi- son. Faith fves. Villagers and Children. 6 Up R. c. R. C. rmngr. 11 R. 14 Crossing to him. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i Comet down c. for it now, and I'm going to try it ! It may not suit me, but I'm going to try it! GUISE. 1 Very well, Regy try it! Come and dine with me on my yacht. We'll make it half-past eight to give you plenty of time. Crossing R. REGY. 2 All right. See you at dinner, Guise. [Piteously.] I knew I was putting my foot in it. [Exit very despondent? GUISE. 4 Well, Crake, what's to be done with this confounded island ? CRAKE.' Take your rents while you can, and then let the island pitch headforemost into the sea. SYB. 6 And then let the people pitch headforemost into the sea after it. CRAKE. 7 The people must move off. SYB. 8 But they love their homes isn't it senseless of them? CRAKE. 9 My dear Sybil, this is a practical question. SYB. 10 Yes, I've been talking with the fishermen's wives they're horribly practical. What do you think? They want to keep a roof over their children. "R. GUISE. 11 Can't something be done, Crake? 32 L.C. o. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I * Crake goes up c. Sybil crosses to Duke. CRAKE. 1 Your Grace! I would prefer not to speak of your affairs. [Glancing at SYB. GUISE. 2 Oh, Midge knows I'm a pauper. Go on. CRAKE. 3 This breakwater would cost fifty thousand pounds at least. Indeed you can't possibly raise the money. 4 SYB. Oh, that needn't stand in your way it never has. [Enter CAPTAIN and MRS. LEDDRA, villagers tenants, and children.] Here are some of your tenants coming to meeting. That's Captain Leddra and his wife. I wish you knew your tenants. GUISE. Introduce me. 5 SYB. May I ? 6 Captain Leddra, Mrs. Leddra here is the Duke of Guisebury come to pay you a visit. [General surprise.'} 7 LEDDRA. [A bronzed seafarer.] The Duke! [Comes to GUISE.] 8 You're wel- come, your Grace ! We've been looking out for you for the last dozen years or so. We thought you'd forgotten there was such a place as Endellion. GUISE. 9 No, Captain Leddra I've not forgotten Endellion, and if I can do anything for the island- LEDD. 10 If you've a mind to do anything for us, your Grace, 3 33 6 Several peo- ple enter R. and L. * Sybil goes up R. c. facing crowd. 7 The crowd of people who were moving towards church stops and form tableau of amazement. Crake down ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i *o. * Goes up R. c. Sybil comes down R. L.C. Advances c. T Downn. you must be quick about it. We're at our wits* ends ! The sea's washing us away ! [DAVID IVES comes to door of house.] 1 CRAKE. 2 But can't you find employment elsewhere? LEDD. S Oh, yes, Mr. Crake, there's plenty of employment at the North Pole. 4 CRAKE. 5 The North Pole? LEDD. 6 We've been offered berlhs with this new Arctic Expedition that Captain Curvengen is fitting out at Plymouth. He sails next spring. It's a desperate venture, but we shall have to go. SYB. 7 Yes, you'll leave all your bones at the North Pole, but there'll be two hundred pounds apiece for your widows. And you'll have snow for a shroud, and an iceberg for a hearse and white bears for under- takers so there'll be no funeral expenses. [MRS. LEDDRA, S with a cry, clings to her husband.] You shan't go, Steve you shan't go ! 9 LEDDRA. 10 Let be, Hester. What's the use of staying here? I will go, I tell you, woman, unless unless I happen to get killed first as Mark Christison was ! MRS. LEDD. J1 Hush! [MRS. CHRISTISON, a white-haired old peas- ant woman comes on, very gentle, dreamy, absorbed.] GUISE. 13 Who's this? 14 34 Mrs. Leddra comes down R. of Leddra. Comes down L. c. Looking L. "B.C. 14 Stephen and the rest of the FisherfoUe move t*p, re- garding Mrs. Christison compassion- ately. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I * At door of house L. *L.C. Conies down- to Guise c. 7 Guise nods. SYB. 1 Mark Christison's widow. She's mad! You needn't take any notice of her. MRS. C. 2 [To DAVID.] 3 Is there any news from Mark yet, David ? DAVID. 4 No, Rachel, there's no news yet. MRS. C. 5 It's unkind of him not to write to me. [Seeing GUISE.] A stranger gentleman! 6 I beg your par- don, friend. Do you come from London ? 7 [GuiSE nods.] My husband Mark Christison has gone up there to ask the Duke to help him. Mark's left me for two years, and he never writes to me. I know he hasn't forgotten me, because when man and wife love as we loved, there's never any for- getting on either side of the grave. SYB. S [watching GUISE.] She's mad. You needn't take any notice of her. 9 GUISE. 10 I haven't met your husband, Mrs. Christison, but I believe he's well quite well. [Takes her hand kindly with a soothing ges- ture.'] MRS. C. 11 Thank you, friend. The Duke may be keeping him in London. It's week-night meeting. I'm going to pray for him to come back. [GuiSE gives her his 12 hand with great courtesy and leads her towards the meeting-house.'] I pray, and I pray, and I pray, but he never comes. 13 35 'Sybil moves up R. to meeting- house. "C. "B. 11 Going to meeting- house. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 At door of chapel meet- ing Mrs. C. *R. Coming down * L. U B. L. c. General hur- rah. L.C. SYB. 1 You might say a good word for the Duke while you're about it, Mrs. Christison. They tell me he needs it more than your husband. MRS. C. Yes, I'll say a good word for the Duke. [Exit into meeting-house? GUISE. [Sharply.] Crake! 3 [JOHN CHRISTISON re-enters; 4 FAITH and DRUS. come to cottage door.] 5 Send for an engineer from London, get him to pre- pare plans, and give me an estimate for a breakwater that will protect all the southwest coast of the island. CRAKE. [Dcprecatingly.] 6 Your Grace it's madness it's impossible ! GUISE. 7 Yes, Crake, I know it's impossible, but it's going to be done. Captain Leddra, you and your friends may remain in the bosom of your families instead of trying to climb the legendary North Pole. 8 I'm glad you have such excellent lungs. But you'd better save your shouts till the breakwater is built. JOHN. [Comes eagerly forward.] 9 Your Grace, I want to thank you. My name's John Christison. I promised my father when he was dy- ing that if you did nothing, I would build the break- water with my own hands. Oh! it's weary work! For as fast as we lay one stone upon the other, the tide and storm dash them to pieces. My courage is well-nigh spent, but if you will lend me some men and money, I'll begin again with a new heart, and please God, the work shall prosper in our hands. You'll help me, Duke you'll help me? 36 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I GUISE. 1 Certainly, Mr. Christison. I shall be very glad of your advice and assistance. We will consider the building of this breakwater as our joint enterprise, and you shall be my overlooker at a salary of two hundred pounds a year. JOHN. 2 Thank you, Duke. 3 You do mean it! You'll go through with it? GUISE. 4 I keep my word, Mr. Christison. It's a habit of mine, and I give you my word of honor I'll build that breakwater. JOHN. 5 Forgive me, your Grace ! I don't doubt you. I can't thank you. Ah ! 6 But I'll ask a blessing for you from the place that used to be my father's. 7 [Goes quickly up to the meeting-house door. DRUS. [Quiet, seductive.'] 8 Shall I come with you, friend John? JOHN. [Eagerly. .] 9 Will you ? If you would help me, I could work like a giant! DRUS. 10 Perhaps I will. Come! [They go into meeting-house ^ FAITH watching them.] FAITH. [Aside.] 12 She does not love him, yet she makes him love her. [Looks after them in the meeting-house, and goes in.] MRS. LEDD. IS My blessings on you too, your Grace. [To her 37 L.C. 8 Looks at Guise. 4 R. C. 8 Looking up. 1 As John turns to go towards meeting- house Dru- silla over* takes him. L. of John. 10 Takes his hand. 1 L. c. ing. 13 Mrs. Leddra comes down c. bringing little boy with her: Sy- bil comes down B. of Duke. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL SC. I * Putting him across to Duke. * turns to Syb. R. 8 Harmonium in meeting- house R. "OJd Hundred." Music S in Chapel. B. *R. C. "c. 1 Leddra comes down L. of Mrs. Leddra. Crowd grad- ually exeunt into chapel l Leddra lets his wife and child pass in- to meeting- house and turns to Da- vid, who is L. of him, coming to- war dt R. Leddra on steps. child.] 1 There, Stephen, look at him, and remem- ber him all your life! He saved your father from going to his grave up there in the ice and snow! Yes, that you have! [Hysterically.] You've saved my husband's life ! GUISE. [Very much amused.] 2 Midge, I've saved a man's life ! * SYB. 4 Why don't you save your own? GuisE. 5 [Turns to MRS. LEDDRA, 6 who is sobbing.] Come, my dear lady, bear up! If your husband's life is saved, you needn't indulge in this violent sor- row about it. 7 MRS. LEDD. [Unsuspectingly.] 8 Sorrow ! Your Grace, I'm beside myself with joy ! Oh, your Grace, I've had no peace since Steve threat- ened to go ! I've had such dreams oh, your Grace ! May you never have such dreams as I've had ! GUISE. 9 I trust not! I trust not! LEDDRA. I() [She is sobbing on his shoulder. There! There! Hold your peace, Hester! Don't take any notice of her, your Grace. She can't help it ! She's only a woman, and she's fond of me and the children that's what makes her so foolish she's fond of me that's what it is. Your Grace our best hearty thanks. [The people have gradually gone into the meeting-houte.] LEDDRA. [going into the meeting-house 11 with DAVID.] Well, David, what do you think of his Grace's promise ? 38 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I DAVID. His promise! [Looks at GUISE.] Wait and see whether he keeps it ! [All the people have gone into the meeting- house, leaving GUISE, CRAKE and SYB.] GuiSE. 1 [Watching the people going into the meet" ing-h'ouse.] Poor devils! They take life very seriously! SYB. 2 Three-fourths of the world do, that the other fourth may see what a splendid jest it is ! 3 Goes up o. CRAKE. 4 Duke, will you follow me into figures? GuiSE. 5 I'd rather not anywhere but there, Crake. Arith- metic is so relentless. CRAKE. 6 Your Grace, excuse my putting it plainly if you build this breakwater, you'll beggar yourself. GUISE. 7 My good Crake, what is a landlord for, except to beggar himself for his tenants? I know my duty, Crake. I very rarely do it, but I yield to no man in knowing it ! CRAKE. 8 Will you tell me how the money is to be raised ? GUISE. 9 That's what I want you to do. You shall have a bottle of my grandfather's port at dinner to-night, and then yon shall tell me how it is to be raised. Go 39 L. a "L.C. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 Crake goes up to L. c. B. speaking speech and exit. Sybil hops down c. 1 Duke goes K. L. c. K. Comes down to Guise c. 7 Stop Harmo- nium. 1 Sitting on rock R. c. c. and take another look at the place, and see what this young Christison has been doing. 1 [SYB., who has been up stage, hops down to GUISE.] * CRAKE. {Going off.] 3 If I'd been wise I should have left him ten years ago, but I suppose I shall be fool enough to stay till the smash comes. [Exit, 4 SYB. 5 I want to ask you a question. GUISE. 6 Well? SYB. Why are you such a hypocrite ? T GUISE. Am I a hypocrite? SYB. Yes. You pretend to be a great deal worse than you are. GUISE. 8 Most people pretend to be a great deal better than they are, so somebody must restore the moral bal- ance. But you don't know what a bad fellow I am, Midge. SYB. 9 Yes, I do. You are bad but you aren't half so bad as you think you are. I've found you out in lots of good deeds, and you always do them and seem ashamed of them. You're kind; you're truthful; you don't slander anybody except yourself and you are brave. 40 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I Brave am I? GUISE. SYB. If you hadn't been brave you wouldn't have rushed in and picked me from under the horses' feet ten years ago You would have let them trample me to death instead of only laming me for life, and curdl- ing my wits. GUISE. They were my horses, and it was my infernal groom that put you behind them. I couldn't stop myself it was mere impulse and sometimes I've asked my- self whether it was a kindness to save you. [Looking at her crutches. SYB. What does it matter? I don't mind it. At least, so long as people don't pity me. At first I used to lie all night and beat my fists against the wall in agony But now Now? GUISE. SYB. Now I've found out that the world was not con- structed for the sole purpose of making me happy. And besides, perhaps some day I shall pull you out from under the horses' feet. What horses ? GUISE. SYB. Don't you know? Can't you see where you are driving? GUISE. No. SYB. Why not pull up ? VI. Call. Drusilla Ives. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. I GUISE. I can't, Midge. I've got my life into a horrible mess, and it's too much bother to get it straight now. SYB. Doesn't your conscience plague you sometimes? GUISE. No. I suppose I've got a conscience, but it's rusty the works have stopped. What does it matter? The world wasn't constructed for the sole purpose of making me good. SYB. Suppose life should be serious after all ! GUISE. My dear Midge, don't preach at me ! SYB. I won't ; preaching won't tame wild horses. [Hops up the cliff. ] I'll wait till they're trampling you under their feet. [Exit. 1 GUISE. [Looks after her, turns round, fills pipe.] Suppose life should be serious after all! What a jest it would be! [DRUSILLA creeps out of meeting-house.] * DRUS. Guise ! GUISE. 3 What mischief now ? DRUS. Catch me! GUISE. Come then! [She jumps into his arms.^j 42 1 L. U. E. J Stands on rock in front of meeting- house. * Jumps up, looks round. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I . DRUS. 1 Oh, I'm so glad you've come ! I've had three awful weeks! These people are so good, and so stupid! They'll kill me! I'm simply dying of goodness. Two more ounces of goodness, and I'm dead ! Don't be alarmed! GUISE. 2 DRUS. 3 You'll catch it! It's in the air. The long faces they pull, the dresses they wear, the way they talk, the books they read oh, so good, oh, so stupid! And the things they think sinful ! Living is sinful ! Loving is sinful ! Breathing is sinful ! Eating and drinking are sinful! Flowers are sinful! Every- thing is sinful ! Oh, so good ! Oh, so stupid ! And the time they give to their prayers, and their harmo- niums ! There's an epidemic of harmoniums ! And the way they spend their Sundays! Oh, so good! Oh, so stupid ! 4 How's everything and everybody in London ? What have you been doing with your- self? Have you missed me? Have you brought my dear old Bully Boy? GUISE. 5 Yes, I've brought the dog. He's fond of me. Guise Nothing. yourself. DRUS. what's the matter with you? GUISE. Tell me what you've been doing with DRUS. Going to meeting; pulling a long face; chaffing my father and sister up my sleeve; wondering how on earth they came to be my father and sister; boring 43 Changing her tone sudden- ly. * Foot on rock, looking at her, elbow on knee. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL sc. i myself; sighing a little for you no much, and making that boy John Christison fall madly in love with me. GUISE. VII. Call. John Christi- ton. 1 Crossing L. * Running up c. pointing OffR. * Going up to her, looking offR. ^ You shouldn't do that. DRUS. Shouldn't make people fall in love with me? Oh, I must. GUISE. You should remember DRUS. What? GUISE, [with much quiet tenderness.] How deeply I'm attached to you. DRUS. So's John Christison! And he can make love in his way. You can't make love as he does. GUISE. The devil take John Christison ! 1 DRUS. Ah, you're jealous ! You needn't be ! But are you attached to me, Guise? GUISE. Am I attached to you? I met you, Di, when I was thirty. If you'd been another sort of woman, Di, I should have been another sort of man. I wonder what my life would have been without you? DRUS. 2 Very dull. You've bought me that yacht? 2 GUISE. 3 Yes. Have you ever had a wish, a caprice that I 44 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I haven't gratified ? Haven't I done every mad thing that you asked me ? 1 DRUS. [She is putting flower in his coat.~\ Suppose for once I asked you to do something sens- ible? GUISE. Well? DRUS. [After a pause, drops her eyes, then glances up at him furtively. ] 2 I read in one of the weekly papers that I am to be the Duchess of Guisebury. GUISE. [Startled.] 3 My dear Di, don't be absurd ! DRUS. 4 I read it in the paper, Guise. Why is it absurd? I've been thoroughly educated. I've been asked to several very good houses. And then my family sound Quaker stock on both sides for two hundred years you couldn't have better breeding than that ! And no cosmetics but the sea and wind! Guise, I could play the part to perfection ! B GUISE. My dear child, don't ask for the one thing I cannot give you. DRUS. You won't? Very well [Bites her lip.] Heigho! 6 [GuiSE. stands, looking glum and thoughtful.] 7 What's the matter with you? What makes you so serious? GUISE. 8 Suppose life should be serious after all! 9 1 Leading her dovon to rock R. c. 1 Sitting on rock R. c. 1 Sitting on rock R. c. 4 Pufs her hand on his. 8 Rising. Moving L. c. ACT I THE DANCING GIRL SC. I DRUS. Don't suppose anything so dreadful. They'll be coming out of meeting soon. [Creeps up to meeting- house door, looks in.] Oh, the Captain is preach- ing! That means forty minutes at least! And on such a lovely moonlight night too ! 1 [JOHN creeps stealthily out of the meeting- house door and hides behind a shrub.] 2 I've been practicing a new dance, a shadow dance. Shall I show you ? 3 [DRUS. carefully looks all round, takes up her skirts, gives one or two turns, and catches sight of John's face watching her through the shrubs, stops suddenly.] 1 Comes down to him on his R. ' Mutic. JOHN. DRUS. DUKE. JOHN. [Advancing.] Woman! What art thou?! CURTAIN. I Two years between Act i and 2.] 46 ACT II. Garden Drop French Window Arch What not Table Door rm Chair ;-Place O Stool Sofa L I. Call. Ooldspink. John Christi- son Drusilla Ives. Music. 4 R. taking John's hat. Upc. R. C. Upc. Distressfully turning to fireplace R. 10 In amaze' ment. ACT II. [DIANA VALROSE'S boudoir at Richmond. A very elegantly furnished room, with light, pretty furniture. Discover DRU- SILLA in handsome morning dress ar- ranging flowers in large china bozvl. 1 Enter Footman, 2 announcing MR. CHRISTISON. Enter JOHN. S Exit Foot- man. 4 DRUS ** Well, friend John! JOHN. 6 Your father and Faith are in London. DRUS. T I know they've written to me. JOHN. 8 They're searching everywhere for you. I've been with them the last three days pretending to help them find you, throwing them off your track deceiving them, lying, lying at every step. 9 DRUS. How kind and thoughtful of you ! JOHN. 10 Kind and thoughtful ! 48 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc. i To me and to them, the truth about me. understand me. DRUS. 1 It would pain them to know My father and sister do not JOHN. 2 Who does understand you? I don't. What made you bring me up to London? Why have you kept me here for nearly two years feeding me with false hopes and promises making me eat the bread of idleness and deceit, till there isn't a sound place in me ? Why have you done it ? Why ? You do not love me ! DRUS. [Very seductive.] 3 How do you know that I do not love you, friend John? 4 JOHN. Love me! Oh, it would be horrible! It would be past grace and mercy for you and me to love each other after this. [Looking round the room.] 5 After all after what I know of you. And yet [Coming up to her, fiercely seizing her hands. Do you love me ? DRUS. 6 You've never gone the right way to make me love yon. I like you when you're not in one of these moral fits. When you're moral, you're dull and tiresome, friend John! You are really. 7 Why don't you take things more quietly? What harm has been done? What harm? left Endellion? 4 JOHN. 8 How have. I passed my time since I 49 1 Coming down c. Going to tofa L. L o o k lan- guishingly at him, and turns away. Drusilla sits on lounge L. Rise, cro* R., getting away from him. 1 Looking-glau over mantel R. Goes up to looking-glass R. looks at herself in it. c. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II 1 R. crossing back of table to piano L. II. Call. Duke of Guise- bury. Goldspink. Bully-boy. Reginald Slingsby. * c. going R. Drusilla goes to piano L. 1 Playing piano softly. 5 Crossing L. c. 6 Sits on sofa, stares in front of him. 7 Plays a brill- iant passage, stops, turns on music stool. * On sofa L. c. * PI a y s sad strain softly. Plays " Old Hundred." 10 Kneels R. of him. DRUS. 1 You came to London to superintend the plans for the breakwater, and the Duke appointed you over- looker at two hundred a year. JOHN. 2 I've taken the money, and I've not done one hour's work for it. 3 I've lied to my dead father! I've broken my promise to him! DRUS. 4 You mean you haven't kept it at present. There's plenty of time. JOHN. 5 Yes there's plenty of time to repent hereafter ! 6 DRUS. Friend John, you are very foolish why should you trouble yourself ? 7 Tell me about my father and Faith. JOHN. 8 They are terribly distressed because they cannot find you. Your father seems broken-hearted. DRUS. Why couldn't they stay at Endellion! The climate and the meeting-house suited them so well ! 9 [Comes up to him, puts her hand on his shoulder, caressingly.'] Friend John, I want you to do me a little favor. 10 What? JOHN. DRUS. Persuade them there has been some mistake, and get 50 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc. i them quietly back to Endellion. When they are at home I'll write and explain everything to my father. I'll find some good excuse. He'll believe me ! For the sake of old times, John. 1 It will be kind to spare them anxiety about me. I'm really not so bad as you think me- I'm really not indeed will you, John? JOHN. You know I shall do whatever you ask me ! 2 DRUS. S Thank you, friend John. Here's the Duke ! [GuiSE passes the window. 4 JOHN. 5 I want to see him. DRUS. 6 Very well, I'll leave you to him. 7 And, John, you'll tell them some pretty little fairy tale, and get them comfortably off home,, eh ? JOHN. 8 Yes. I'll keep up the lies now I've begun them. Oh, I'm lost anyhow. DRUS. 9 Yes, friend John, we are lost ! 10 But never mind- we shall be in very good company ! [Exit. JOHN. 12 If I could break off your chains! If I could! [Enter GUISE.] 13 GUISE. 14 Ah, Mr. Christison! 11 At back of sofa. 1 Behind sofa, her arms round him. * Kneeling on sofa. Trying to re- turn caress, Drus. moves away to R. c. * Crossing R. c. 4 Crossing from L. to R. 5 Rising, mov- ing up c. a little. Runs to door Coming back to John c. c. Bitterly. 9 Dolefully im- itating him. 10 Laughing merrily. 11 Exit hum- ming " Old Hundred," L. door. 11 L. c. looking after her. 14 c. Giving hand. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II * Not noticing hand. 1 Crossing L. c. * Sitting on sofa. B. c. JOHN. 1 Your Grace, I wish to speak about the salary you've allowed me. GUISE. The last quarter hasn't been paid. JOHN. I don't want your money. I'm sorry I took it. Why? I've not earned it. GUISE. JOHN. GUISE. That's a very absurd reason for not taking it, Mr. Christison. However, I'll respect your scruples. You needn't be under any further apprehension about being paid. 2 Is there anything else ? 3 JOHN. 4 Yes! Two years ago you spoke of beginning the breakwater at Endellion, and I was to work under you and for you. There's not a stone been laid since. I don't understand your feelings but I know what my own are every night as I lay my head upon my pillow and think, " Another day gone, and I've done nothing to redeem my promise." I thought perhaps your feelings might be something like mine. GUISE. [Touched.] You're right, Mr. Christison! I've allowed two years to go by, and I've done nothing to keep my word! You're right! And I've sacrificed thoso men's lives ! JOHN. Are you sure they've perished ? 52 A<:T THE DANCING GIRL sc. I Rising. GUISE. They've given up all hope at the Admiralty. You've nothing more to say, Mr. Christison ? 1 JOHN. No, Duke. As soon as I am able, I shall go back to Endellion and get on with the work as well as I can. I shan't trouble your Grace any further about it. GUISE. Very well, Mr. Christison. [Rings bell?' JOHN. 3 Your Grace, David Ives is in London. GUISE. Indeed ! [Exit JOHN."* [ GUISE alone, takes several turns about the room, his walk, mien and gesture indi- cate supreme self -contempt, his eyes on floor, bites his thumb, kicks the footstool savagely, sits on sofa; finds the cushion uncomfortable, pitches it about, reclines again, finds it still more uncomfortable, pitches it the other end of the room and breaks an old China bowl 6 which drops in pieces and falls on floor.'] I suppose there is some poor devil somewhere that's in a worse all-round mess than I am! But if there is, I should like to shake hands with him, and ask him how he feels. [Gets up savagely, walks across the room, walks in- to back room, looks out of window.] Hillo, Bully Boy what is it, old chap? [Opens the French window; admits a ferocious look- ing, ugly bulldog.] 53 * On table R. c. * Goes wp to door R., then turns to Quite. * China bowl is on pedestal up c. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II 1 Brings him down.. * Gets him on sofa. R. Regy keeps hat on. 6 Crosses c. ' Crosses to him and shakes hands c. 1 Guise crosses to servant, R. c. Come in, old boy ! l Sit up there ! 2 I like you, Bully Boy ! There's a splendid absence of all moral squeamishness about that ugly old mug of yours! Birds of a feather, eh, old boy? I'm a bad lot, but you don't mind that, do you? [Caressing the dog.] You love me, don't you, as much as if I were a paragon pattern of all the virtues. I'm in a devilish scrape, Bully Boy ! I've come nearly to the end of my tether! I broke my word to those poor beggars ! I let them join that cursed Arctic Ex- pedition, and there they they are, up there, making a cold supper for the Polar bears ! How would you feel, Bully Boy, if you had sent a dozen poor beg- gars to Kingdom Come? You wouldn't mind, would you? And why should I? I've ruined my- self for her, Bully Boy, and now she's growing tired of me ! Strange, isn't it ! A few shillings will buy a faithful dog, but all the money in the world won't buy a faithful woman ! [Enter Servant 3 announcing MR. SLINGSBY. REGY enters* Servant then goes up and takes the dog.] GUISE. Well Regy, this is a surprise! 5 REGY. Yes. 6 They told me you called the other day, but I wasn't at home, so as I was driving by to-day I thought I'd give you a look up. GUISE. Thanks. 7 [To servant, who is going off with dog.] 8 Where are you taking that dog? SERV. 9 I beg pardon, your Grace, Miss Valrose said he was to be sent up to town. 54 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc. i L.C. 8 Standing c. GUISE. Oh, very well, I'll take him back to town with me to-night. Poor Bully Boy! She's getting tired of you too, is she? {Exit SERV. with Dog.] l REGY. 2 Well, Guise, what have you been doing with your- self all the while? GUISE. 3 Playing the fool, and scandalizing society. REGY. Did you see that article in yesterday's Trafalgar Square Gazette on " The decline of our Aristoc- racy ? " They did give it you hot. GUISE. 4 Ah ! 5 I met the editor a few months ago, and he assured me that when he writes about the black- guard Duke our differences are like Satan and Michael's merely political! What did the article say of me? [Sits on sofa. 2 REGY. 6 That the spectacle of your career has hastened the downfall of the House of Lords by twenty years. 7 GUISE. Well. 9 What more do the Radicals want? And yet the) 7 ''ve never given me a testimonial! What have you been doing with yourself, Regy? [REGY rises solemnly with the air of making a most important communication, takes off hat, goes to him.] 55 4 c. crossing L. c * Sitting on sofa. 1 Sits L. of table R. c. 8 Taking cigar- ette from packet on table L. of sofa. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II uo. * Sits on edge of table n. c. REGY. 1 Very solemnly. Guise I tell you this things are coming 1 to a crisis. GUISE. 2 Yes, Regy. I've lived in one chronic crisis ever since I left Eton ! Why don't you ask her to name the day, and get it all over? REGY. Not if I know it. 3 While there's life there's hope and Lady Poperoach [With a mysterious, threatening manner.'} had better not drive me to bay ! That's my candid advice to Lady Poperoach " Don't drive me to bay!" GUISE. 4 What should you do, Regy? REGY. Well, don't let Lady Poperoach drive me to bay, that's all! Guise, if I ask you a plain, straight- forward question, will you give me a plain, straight- forward answer ? GUISE. Rely on me, Regy. REGY. 5 Will you tell me what the devil I wanted to go and tie myself up to Isabel Poperoach for? That's what I want to know. I'd everything I wanted nicest little bachelor's quarters in London, nobody to bully- rag me, or order me about What did I do it for? Smoking quietly. 'Bring* chair to R. of tofa. Well, why did you ? GUISE. REGY. Because I was a silly fool that's why ! There's no other reason. 56 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc. I Well- GUISE, -that seems sufficient. REGY. [Continuing, taking no notice of GUISE.] Some people want to get married very well, let them ! Let them go in and get married forty times over ! I don't interfere with them ! * Why should I be dragged like a victim to the slaughter ? GUISE. Just so, Regy why should you? REGY. It's hard lines on a fellow, 2 isn't it, Guise? It's devilish hard lines ! What would you advise me to do? 3 GUISE. I should get married. REGY. [Disgusted.] Get married! Oh, hang it all, Guise I didn't ex- pect this from you ! No, candidly, what would you advise me to do? Eh? GUISE. [Yawns:'] I should not get married. 4 REGY. [Shakes hands with him.'} Thank you old fellow, thank you. I knew I might rely on you. But. 5 I say how am I to get out of it, eh ? GUISE. That's it, Regy ! How are we to get out of it ? REGY. You! You haven't been and landed yourself! 57 1 Rises. * Crossing R. and back to Standing c. * Lying on so/a head up stage. * Comes and sits by Guise. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II 1 Rises and re- places chair. 1 Regy crosses tOR. III. Call. Goldspink. Sybil Crake. Mrs. Crake. David Ives. Faith Ives. John Christi- son. GUISE. Yes, in no end of a mess ! Debts, difficulties, duns, unfulfilled engagements everywhere all the Dane- court property under water with these floods no rents no money no self-respect no nothing! REGY. [Cheerfully.'} Poor old Guise! I'm awfully sorry for you, I am indeed. But I say, Guise, what am I to do ? * GUISE. Why not marry her ? 2 It couldn't be worse than the life we've lived for the last fifteen years! The other Saturday night I sat in that big house of mine alone till I felt that if I stayed five minutes longer I should get out my pistols and blow my brains out. Well, I went out, and I got amongst some people marketing I watched some little cad and his wife buying their Sunday's dinner with four squalling, snub-nosed brats hanging round them ! He was happy that little cad ! I wonder what grudge Providence had against me to give me a title and thirty thousand a year, instead of making me a greasy little cad like that ! [REGY 3 supremely occupied with his own con- cerns.'] What I ask myself is this what's the object of my getting married? That's what I want to know! Where does the joke come in ? 4 What shall I have to show for it? GUISE. What have we both got to show for it as it is ? That little cad had his wife and children's love, and his shoulder of mutton and his onions. And he -was happy! 5 REGY. Happy be hanged ! All women are alike ! 58 * Extreme R., strikes match cigarette. * Comes R. c., still self-oc- cupied. * Lief down on sofa L. c. ACT II THE DANCING GIRL SC. I GUISE. That's the last cursed word of cynicism. All women are alike. And the devil of it is it's true! That is its true for such men as you and I. [With a chuckle.} My God, Regy, what a farce of a world it is! REGY. It is, old boy. But I stick to my Goschens oh dear, yes! I've got a nice little fifteen thousand a year, dear old fellow just keeps me going. But I say, old fellow, what's the matter with you ? GUISE. Everything. Crake has left me. She's tired of me. 1 And those poor beggars who went with that fool Curgenven to find the North Pole they're lost, Regy! 2 REGY. 3 Well, what the devil could they expect? Suppose they do find the North Pole what the deuce is the good of it? It's no business of yours. GUISE. 4 I never missed a night's sleep in my life till lately. Now, every night, just as I'm falling off, my heart gives a kind of a start. Perhaps I doze off again for a few minutes. Another start and then I'm wide awake and going through every detail of the Arctic Expedition. 5 Up to 83 North, going all through the plans of the Endellion breakwater 6 and there I lie, hour after hour, night after night, just the same ! And when at last I drop off, they're at me again thousands and thousands of poor lank, starved wretches with their faces gray and pinched like corpses ; and their limbs dropping off with gran- grene and frostbite, hanging over me in my sleep. 7 REGY. 8 Put on you hat, dear old boy, and go to a doctor. 59 1 Rises, crosses 'Looking into fire, sitting on armchair R * Staring into fire. 6 Sits in chair R. of table, traces map on hearth rug with poker. 9 Throws down poker, goes to table. Sits on table, el- bow on knee. 7 Goes to fire shivering, puts hands out to fire. Seated R. c. L. of table. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II 1 Crosses to L. * Regy rises goes R. c. * Standing c. 1 Coming back to c. B Standing, looking straight be- fore him c. a. c. 1 Sitting L. of table. Looks at him one moment, rises from chair. 10 Regy turns away. 11 Slaps him on the oack ; Reav begins to look un- easy. M Looking at Regy. GUISE. 1 I've been. Gave me sleeping draughts. Chloral, opium I took them tumbler fulls of them. No good. Ordered me abroad. I went. No good. I've tried drink.* I've tried everything.* It's no good, Regy my boy. 4 My heart, or my liver, or my conscience, or some damned thing inside of me is all wrong, and I don't know how the devil to get it right ! 5 6 REGY. [Looks at him half critically, half com- passionately.] Let me tell you this, my dear old Guise you'd bet- ter take care of yourself. You're in a bad way. GUISE. I know I am. I never bothered myself about duty and conscience and all that grandmother's stuff, but I'm damned, Regy, if I don't begin to think there's something in it after all ! 7 REGY. [Cheerfully.] 8 Wish I could help you, dear old fellow upon my word I do. If there's anything I can do for you GUISE. 9 You know, Regy, there are really a great many natural resources in Endellion, and if any thorough good-hearted fellow would advance the money, and would take a small risk, I believe the thing would pay itself back in a few years. 10 I want to keep my word, Regy ! It would make a new man of me. 11 I wouldn't take a shilling for myself. It's for those poor beggars. 12 You don't happen to know any thorough good fellow who would put his hand in his pocket, eh? 60 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc. i REGY. 1 Oh, I'd do it myself for you with pleasure, dear old fellow, but when I said just now fifteen thousand a year I didn't mean fifteen thousand clear. The fact is, when the charges on the estate are paid, it's not much over six, and I've got so many calls. In fact my life's nothing but one eternal monotonous fork out, fork out, fork out ! [Enter Servant? announcing MR. and Miss CRAKE; enter CRAKE and SYBIL. 3 REGY takes out his watch suddenly.] REGY. By Jove ! I had to be back in Piccadilly at five ! 4 Ta, ta, old fellow, ta, ta ! If I can be of any use to you, you let me know. [To CRAKE and SYB. as he passes them.] How d'ye do? How d'ye do? [Exit very hurriedly* CRAKE. 6 Ah, Midge, you You received my note, your Grace? GUISE. Yes, Crake. [Shakes hands.] 7 haven't forsaken me, then? SYB. S No, I always come to your funerals. I followed your character when it went to its early grave; and when you broke your word and buried your self- respect [ GUISE winces.] I was the chief mourner. To-day we are going to bid farewell to the remains of your fortune, and when the little that is left of you goes to its last home, I'm sure I shall be follow- ing. GUISE. 9 But don't shed one tear over me, Midge I'm not worth it. [Taking her hand.] 61 1 Very tm- ecuy. R. Sybil walk* with crutche*. Seizes Quite' t hand. Coming to Lhikec. 1 Crake goei up c. Sybil comet to Duke. ua SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II SYB. No. [Looking at bowl.] You've had a smash here ! [Goes up to the broken china bowl, picks up the pieces and is all through the inter- view trying to put them together.] GUISE. [In a sharp quick tone.] 1 Now, Crake, let's get this over. CRAKE. 2 Your Grace, I don't want to prolong it. It's a bit- ter day for me. [Takes out bunch of keys.] There's the strong room, that's the jewels, those are the deed boxes at the Bank. I've been through everything with the new steward. I hope your Grace doesn't blame me? Crossing B. 1 Coming to K. c. ' Leaning on mantel B. Turning and giving hand. No, Crake. GUISE. 3 CRAKE. I advised your Grace for the best. GUISE. You did, Crake. CRAKE. There's nothing else, your Grace? GUISE. Nothing. I've already thanked you for your faith- ful service. 4 I wish I had deserved it better. [Giv- ing hand.] CRAKE. [Moved.] Don't say any more, your Grace. [The two men stand with hands clasped for some moments. CRAKE speaks with great feeling, very low tone of voice.] Good day, your Grace. 62 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL SC. I Music. GUISE. Good-bye, Crake. [Shakes hands very cordially.] CRAKE. Come, Sybil. 1 [Leaves the room hurriedly* much affected. GUISE stands despondent.] SYB. [Occupied with the vase.] 3 Yes it's smashed all to pieces; but you can put it together again. What? GUISE. 4 SYB. This bowl. [Leaves it, hops down to him.] 5 And your life. [GuiSE shrugs his shoulders, shakes his head sadly.] Yes ! 6 Look ! Of course it will never be the same again, but it will hold together. 7 Oh, why don't you pick up the pieces ? GUISE. 8 Too late ! SYB. 9 No ! Try try Pick up the pieces ! GUISE. 10 You'll come and see me again, Midge ? SYB. Yes, when you are right under the horses' hoofs. [Exit after CRAKE. 11 GUISE goes up to the table rvhere she had been playing with the pieces, puts the bowl together.] GUISE. 12 Yes, the pieces will join, but the bowl is broken. 63 * Coming R. c Going to bowl, holding it to- gether. 7 Letting it fall asunder. Crossing L. c. Coming down to him. 10 Taking her hand. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II 1 R. Stop Music. B. R.C. R.C. 7 Quite showt surprite. Extreme R. L.C. E. c. [Enter Servant.] l SERV. Your Grace, there are two people in the hall asking to see you. The man says his name is David Ives. GUISE. [Showing slight surprise.] Show them in here and [with meaning to the Serv.] When they are here, find Miss Valrose and tell her that Mr. David Ives is with me here. [Exit Serv.] 2 David Ives! What brings him here? Can he know? [Re-enter Serv. announcing MR. IVES, S DAVID enters followed by FAITH. They look round the room with great curios- ity.] You remember me ? DAVID. 4 GUISE. 5 Perfectly, Mr. Ives. The last time I saw you, you reminded me that my neglect had lost a man's life. DAVID. C Now it has lost another. 7 More than two years ago you brought John Christison up to London. You've kept him idling here ever since. When shall you have done with him ? [DRUS. very cautiously appears at back 8 and stands behind the curtains, JOHN follows her, peeping over her shoulders.] GUISE. 9 I've done with him now. DAVID. 10 Then pay him his wages and let him go. I don't understand the lad. He seems lost and dazed. I 64 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc i can't get him back to Endellion with me. What's the reason? GUISE. Am I his keeper? I believe Mr. Christison intends leaving London. He is free to do so. He is his own master. DAVID. No. There's somebody up here in London who's got the mastery over John Christison, and an evil mastery it is ! Who is it ? GUISE. It's not I, Mr. Ives. DAVID. 1 Who is it? GUISE. It must be one of the other five million Londoners. You had better ask him yourself. DAVID. I will ! 2 You've changed the lad's nature. You've made him like yourself. GUISE. You flatter me ! How ? DAVID. 3 He's a promise-breaker. [ GUISE winces; JOHN'S face shows through the curtain, full of pain and shame.] But when the sea rakes his dead father out of his resting place, as it will before long, perhaps John Christison will remember the promise he gave, and come back to Endellion and fulfill it. [JOHN'S face withdraws.] That's all I have to say to you. [Curtly, going.] Good morning. Come, Faith. 5 65 1 More emphat ically going to Guise. 1 Going to door B. turns round. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II Putting Faith R. a FAITH. Good morning, your Grace. My father is not quite himself to-day. We've been beside ourselves with grief the last few days. We cannot get any news of my sister Drusilla. She is not at the place where her letters are sent. We fear some mischief has happened to her. GUISE. I'm sorry I hope your fears are groundless. DAVID. 1 to GUISE. What business is it of yours what has become of my child? GUISE. 2 Wait here a few minutes. I may have some news that will surprise you - {Exit GuiSE, 3 the moment he has left JOHN comes forward from behind the cur- tains.] 4 JOHN. 8 David, I've heard all you said. There was someone in London who had a mastery over me, aad an evil mastery it was. But I'll break it I'll go back to Endellion this very night. DAVID. 6 You will? Ah, that's the John Christison I knew! That's the lad his father and I brought up after our own hearts. The lad I would have given my Drusilla to for wife ! JOHN. Don't say any more. Wait till I've proved myself. We'll get away from this place. You've nothing more to do here ? 66 Down L. a L.C. R. C. Vf. ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc. i FAITH. 1 He asked us to wait till he returned. JOHN. You'll see him to-morrow. Don't stay here. Go! You and Faith wait a little while along the road for me I'll come to you soon. I entreat you, don't stay. 2 FAITH. 3 You won't fail us ? You'll come to us ? JOHN. 4 Yes. I have one thing to do here first when that is done I shall be my own master. Don't ask me any more go ! DAVID. Come, Faith. \Exit DAVID.] 5 FAITH. Oh, you have made our hearts rejoice. Now if we could but find Drusilla, and take her home with us then all would be well. [JOHN almost pushes FAITH off at door, 6 shuts it, turns round; DRUSILLA, enters from between the curtains from other room.} DRUS. T That was splendidly done, friend John. Now you will get them home to-night, and I'll write a letter and explain. I think I have imagination enough for that! 8 [She goes up to window; looks out.] They've gone! [Shows relief.] It's really a shame to fib to them, but what can one do ? [JOHN has stood stern, 10 and fixed nerving himself.] 67 1 R. Up. * David goes up toward door. Faith comes, to John. R.C. c. c. up. John moves down R. c. TOR. R. c. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II JOHN. [Calm, stern, strong.] Listen to me! I depart from London to-night for Endellion, and as I live, I will never return to you. Perhaps I shall never see you again ! 1 Raising hand. ' Drawing him back c. Clinging to him. Friend John! DRUS. [Approaching him.] JOHN. [Repulsing her.] 2 Whether your father and sister will come with me I cannot tell. But they will surely come back to Endellion before many days. You know what I have done, how I have lied to them and deceived them to keep them from knowing the truth about you. From this time forth I have done with lies! I will not betray you. If they ask me of you, I will keep silent. Not one word good or bad will I speak of you. From this day it shall be to me as though you were dead! [Going. DRUS. throws her arms around him.] 3 DRUS. And you said you loved me ! Who spoke a lie then ? I did love you. JOHN. DRUS. 4 You do! You do! You And you love me still! love me now ! JOHN. I no I I do not love you ! I will not love you ! [Trying to take her arms from him.] DRUS. You do ! You shall ! Come, you will do as I wish, friend John. I cannot tell you what a strange sweet feeling has been growing in my heart. [Drawing 68 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL SC. I him away from door.] 1 I think I am beginning to love you at last, a little. I must have you near me because I know you are true as steel John, you won't go to Endellion you'll get rid of them to- night and come back to me to-morrow ? Yes, friend John JOHN. [After a struggle.] I cannot ! I dare not ! Let me go ! [Tearing himself away from her. DRUS. 2 You shall not go ! You shall not ! 3 If you should leave me I don't know what will become of me! Perhaps I shall kill myself! I don't care what be- comes of me ! It will be your work ! I love you, John, and you can do as you please with me! Who knows? You might make me a good woman! Won't you try ? I could do anything for you ! Ask me anything in the world I'll do it ! JOHN. 4 Do you mean that? Then leave this house now forever. Come back to your home with your father and sister and me. 5 Live the rest of your life so that I may forget what you have been. I will help you and be as your own brother. Will you do that ? DRUS. 6 No it's impossible ! I hate Endellion I must live in London ! Oh, you are tiresome you want to go very well! Go! Go! Go! There is the door. I hate you ! you Go ! Drusilla ! 7 I hate you ! And I had begun to love JOHN. [Tortured.] DRUS. S Leave me ! You do not loye me ! 69 1 Drawing him L. away from, door L. IV. Call. Duke of Guise- bury. 1 Imperiously L. c. ' Changing to tone of en- treaty. 4 Coming to her fiercely. 6 Taking her hand tender* ly, his voice softening. * Suddenly after pause. Drawing back with sudden anger. 7 Turns to her. L. c. retreat- ing. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II * Approaching her. Seductively. Flings herself on sofa L. o. Ask me anything JOHN. 1 I do not love you ? Do I not ? see if I will not do it ! DRUS. 2 Stay in London. I like you to be near me and perhaps some day I will reward you as you never hoped for. Who knows ? Perhaps some day I will give you myself ! JOHN. [Fiercely. ] Ah, do you think I would take you ? Do you think it means nothing what we were taught! That you can give yourself first to him and then to me ! Oh, when I knew of it, I thought I would kill him and many times I've been near doing it! Very well give yourself to me ! I'll take you ! But let me kill him first and then come to me and let us kill our- selves together. Will you do that? Will you do that ? Do you love me enough for that ? DRUS. You're mad! Come, be sensible, you won't go, John I must have you for my friend. You'll stay with me? JOHN. [Has recovered his calmness.] No I leave here to-night. I have said it and I'll keep my word. DRUS. 3 You do not love me! You do not love me! JOHN. 4 I do not love you ! Tear out this heart of mine and see ! What do you want of the man that loves you ? His life? You can have mine. I'd suffer anything I'd dare anvthing I'd be your bondslave and pay 70 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc. i your penalty I'd give myself for years beyond number to make you fit to be loved at the last! Take all my strength, my hopes, my worldly com- fort, every drop of joy that my tongue shall ever taste That's nothing all is nothing! All is less than dust! Set any price upon yourself! I'll pay it! I'll give you all all save only my word, my faith, my duty, my soul! I will not pay them for you ! Not them ! Not them ! No ! No ! No ! [Rushes off wildly. DRUS. sits crying, looks up from her tears, flings her handker- chief on the ground, goes to door, calls " JOHN ! rushes up to back, meets GUISE who enters.] x What is it ? GUISE. [Very calmly.] 2 DRUS. [Controls herself.] 8 Nothing. GUISE. 4 Where are you going in such a hurry ? DRUS. Nowhere. 5 GUISE. 6 Di! Di! I have something to say to you. 7 I've been looking for you all over the grounds. Where are your father and sister ? DRUS. 8 Gone. GUISE. Perhaps it's better. I shall see your father to-mor- row, and can speak to him then. 9 Di, will you give me a few moments? You'll be pleased to hear what I have to say. At back. Ope. *R. C. L. c. * Coming down L. c. as if go- ing off L. B. c. calling after her. 1 Drusitta stops L. c. doggedly. 9 Drusilla moves to wards door L. again. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT II Turning. Attonithed. 1 Eagerly. Cheerfully. Cheerfully. Crosses B. c. DRUS. 1 If it's short and sweet I shall. GUISE. I think it will be sweet. I'll make it short. [Goes to her with great tenderness? I wish you to do me the honor of becoming my wife. DRUS. 3 What? What? Say it again! GUISE. I offer you my hand. Will you be my wife? You don't mean it ? DRUS. 4 GUISE. Indeed I do. 2 I don't profess to be a pattern, but I don't want to sink any lower than I am ! I know my love isn't worth much, but such as it is you have it all. I'm fond of you, Di! You've always been able to twist me round your finger. You can't say that I haven't valued very highly the privilege of being ruined by you. DRUS. 5 It's been very pleasant, hasn't it? GUISE. Delightful while it lasted. Only DRUS. Only GUISE. I'm ruined ! DRUS. 8 Yes, and when a man's ruined, it's time for him to turn over a new leaf. 7 72 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc. I GUISE. Yes. My only reason for turning over a new leaf is that I feel wretched and contemptible as I am. Di I'm in your hands. We've wasted our lives DRUS. 1 Excuse me, Val I'm not twenty-five, wasted part of mine at present. I've only GUISE. Don't waste the other part, and don't let me waste what is left of mine. I daresay everybody will cut us most respectable people have cut me for the last five years but we'll hold on to each other. We'll be married quietly, and go into some quiet little continental place [Approaching her very ten- derly.] DRUS. No Val we will not. GUISE. Well, we'll live where you please. I can't provide for you in the style you are used to. We must cut down everything. But you're welcome to all I have. Di, you'll stick to me now? Mine's a broken life, but I want to pick up the pieces. You'll help me? You'll be my wife ? DRUS. 2 My dear Val, don't ask me for the one thing I can- not give you. 3 GUISE. 4 You don't mean it, Di ! I know I've knocked about the old title and tarnished it, but I'll polish it up as well as I can now you are going to wear it. DRUS. No, Val. I'm really sensible of the honor you have done me, but I must decline. I must indeed. 5 73 1 Flippantly sitting L. of R. table. * Imitation of his tone in Act I. * Crosses L. * Piteotuly. 1 Lighting cigarette. THE DANCING GIRL ACT II 1 Abject en- treaty. Music ppp titt Curtain. With cutting coolness. Offers hand. Qrimly, GUISE. 1 Don't throw me over, Di. If you do, I don't know what will become of me. I've been thoroughly shaken the last few months I'm as weak as a child, and I want somebody to cling to. You're the only woman who has ever had what I've got in the way of a heart you have it still Di, we've thrown away our best chances of happiness let's save what we can from the wreck. DRUS. No, my dear Val no, no, no ! GUISE. You refuse me? DRUS. 2 I refuse you. To live cheaply in a little continental town, my dear Val, it would be purgatory ! I must have my London, my Paris, my theatre, my dancing, my public to worship me. GUISE. [Greatly hurt and piqued.] You refuse me? DRUS. Yes. We've had our cake and eaten it Now the feast is over, and there's nothing to do but to say good-bye and part friends. Good-bye. 3 GUISE. 4 No, Di. The feast is not over. We won't say good- bye. DRUS. You won't say good-bye? GUISE. Not now we will say good-bye but not now ! [DRUS. shrugs shoulders and exit. 6 GUISE. bursts into a very bitter laugh; stands 74 ACT II THE DANCING GIRL sc. i silent for some moments, then bursts into a little mocking laugh.] This world has given me a few good kicks I've had just enough of it. 1 I'll give this world one good * Fails into i'i . ? , , T ,,, r ... armchair at kick back, and then 1 11 get out of it ! fire, stirs the fire. CURTAIN. [Six months pass between Acts 2 and 3.] ACT HI. SCENE. Hall and Staircase at the Duke of Guise- bury 's, Guisebury House, Saint-James's Square. The wide handsome staircase takes up the centre of stage and leads to a gallery which runs along the top, and ends in doors on the right and left. ACT III. THE LAST FEAST. [Discover Footman, 1 Enter GOLDSPINK.] 2 GOLDSPINK. 3 Dinner over, Charles ? FOOTMAN. 4 I've left them at dessert. They're going to have coffee here. GOLD. 5 This is a rummy go, Charles! He's had a few rummy goes in his time in fact I should say his whole life has been a series of rummy goes but this is the rummiest of all ! Where's he going? FOOT. GOLD. He hasn't taken any passage for anywhere, 6 he hasn't made any enquiries about any vessels, or shown any interest in foreign countries. And yet he's on the hop somewhere and shortly. FOOT. He's been in tremendous spirits all through dinner. Such raillery, Mr. Goldspink ! Such delicate persi- flage! It's been quite a feast of wit! 77 7. CoK. Duke of Guise- bury. Goldspink. Charles. Drusilla Ives. Footmen. The table R. with coffee service is re- moved up stage by Charles. The entertain- ment. Danc- ing, etc., sup- posed to take place off L. from Gallery. Music. c. Goldspink crosses R. and stands with his back to fire. Charles moves round to L. of table. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 Goes to escri- toire, while speaking picks up two letters that lie there, lays them down again. Charles sits in chair L. of table, and assumes a confidential manner. GOLD. I don't understand Guise lately. 1 He's never had any secrets from me ! Never troubled to lock up his letters, or any meannesses of that sort. But this last week he's puzzled me, Charles! Foox. 2 There's something curious about this little tete-a-tete dinner with her, and the big reception afterwards. GOLD. Just so ! There's more in it, Charles, than meets the eye! I don't know what the denouement will be but you mark my words, Charles, there will be a de- nouement of some kind or the other. FOOT. He's give Martin orders to have out all the 68 Chateau Lafitte and the 74 P J for the reception to-night. Fancy turning all them blessed old dow- agers on to 68 Lafitte. It's disgusting ! 3 GOLD. Guise always was a damned fool with his wine and his money! But I ain't the one to shy stones at him for that! He's chucked enough about for me to be the owner of six houses in Gladstone Terrace, Freetrade Road, Peckham. Enter GUISE.] 4 GUISE." I'm glad to hear it, Goldspink ! 6 You might per- haps have invested my money in something less ex- tremely radical. 7 GOLD. T Your Grace if you'll pardon my saying so my political convictions are exactly the same as your 78 1 Ooldspink, with affecta- tion, throws himself into armchair, be- {ore fire, ack of chair turned up stage. * L. c. from un- der staircase. s Charlesjumps from chair and crosses L. much con- fused. Gold- tpink rises very slowly coming down R. c. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III Grace's. And I'll try to get the name of the terrace altered. GUISE. * I wouldn't, Goldspink. I've no doubt it's admirably descriptive. And I don't propose to take the least interest in English politics for the future. 2 Lady Bawtry has not come yet? FOOT.* No, your Grace. Her Ladyship said she should be here at five minutes to twelve. [Exit.]* GUISE. Did you get my sleeping draught made up? GOLD. Yes, your Grace. It's in your bed-room. [Exit.] 5 6 [Enter DRUSILLA.] 7 DRUS. S Well? Well? GUISE. 9 DRUS. 10 This is really the end of it then ? GUISE. 11 The very end. DRUS. 12 I should like to cry. GUISE. 13 Why? DRUS. 14 I don't want to give you up. That's the worst of life. Its taste is never half as sweet as its perfume ! It is only the flowers that we don't gather that are worth gathering at all. 15 79 * Turning to Charles L. * L. c. under gallery. 6 R. c. under gallery. 6 Music soft. 1 L. c. from un der staircase 8 Coming c. * R. back to fire. 10 Coming to foot of steps c. Coming to L. of table. "R. "L. of table. Sitting L. of table. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. I 1 Laughing. * Ouise turns and leans on mantel-pin.ee. * Coquettish pose. Sugar tongs in hand. * Turning to her gaily. * Pouring coffee. * Handing cup across table. N. B.All through this scene the Duke is in fe- verish, high spirits. Dru- sitta is de- pressed. 1 Taking cup. Sitting B. of table. * Pouring cup for herself. GUISE. 1 What! You're never going to take life seriously, Di ? Just as I've discovered what a superb jest it is ! DRUS. No, it isn't. It's something between jest and earnest something between a laugh and a cry. 2 Only to- night, now we are parting, it seems a little nearer a cry! I shall miss you, Val! Shall you miss me? 3 GUISE. 4 Not in the least. Two lumps. DRUS. 5 Oh, but you must. It will be unkind. It will be un- gallant to forget me ! 6 GUISE. 7 When you and I have parted after the reception to- night, I shan't give you twenty thoughts for the rest of my life. DRUS. But that's monstrous ! That's a challenge to me to win you again! GUISE. 8 You can't wring a wren's neck twice ! DRUS. 9 Do you know, Val, you've been charming the last few days and to-night at dinner I felt if I had a heart I could lose it to you. GUISE. If you had a heart I should have won it years ago. DRUS. And broken it ! GUISE. Most likely ! You liked our dinner to-night ? 80 THE DANCING GIRL ACT III Laughs. DRUS. It was exquisite. And you were the most delightful companion. 1 What is the matter with you? You seem so light-hearted to-night so unlike yourself. GUISE. [Gaily.] I've paid all my debts except one, and that will give me no trouble. That's quite unlike myself. DRUS. And you've sold Danecourt? GUISE. Yes, my cousin and I put it in the pot. Samuelson the stockbroker made us a splendid bid I found it would just clear me and leave me a few thousands to the good, and I thought I couldn't do better than give you the most recherche dinner possible and a big reception afterwards. 2 In my honor? DRUS. GUISE. 3 In your honor and for your honor. You know, my dear Di, there have been rumors about you and me, rumors which might affect your future so just to show there is absolutely no foundation I have asked my aunt, Lady Bawtry, to do the honors for me, and I've invited all my set. DRUS. Oh, but that's perfectly delightful of you! GUISE. Half of them were scandalized and declined. The other half were scandalized and accepted. You shall dance yourself out of my life, and I'll take leave of you all. To-night when I bid my last guest farewell, I shan't have a single care or anxiety in the world. 4 Tell me, Di, when I've left England, what are you going to do with yourself? ' 1 Drinks hit coffee. 8 Stands with back to fire. Rising. * Lighting Cig- arette. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. i DRUS. I have some dancing engagements at private houses. They pay me very well. I shall go on with that while I'm the fashion. That will be this season and perhaps next GUISE. Apres ? DRUS. Then I shall go to America or into a convent. 1 Amazed. * Moodily. Indifferent tone. A convent? GUISE. DRUS. Yes. The Catholic is such an artistic religion. No harmoniums. I think I should like to try it for three months. GUISE. And then ? DRUS. And then? And then? Who knows? I don't! Lately I seem to be pursuing something that always escapes me. At first I thought it was love for that boy John Christison. Guise, do you know where I went the other week when the Richmond Place was broken up ? GUISE. Where? DRUS. To Endellion. GUISE. 1 Endellion? You saw your father? DRUS. 2 No. He is still in London. GUISE. 3 In London? What's he doing up here? 82 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III DRUS. Looking for me. Poor father ! J I wisn I could let him know I am quite safe without telling him in what way. 2 GUISE. What did you do in Endellion ? 3 DRUS. I only stayed there a few hours and I saw no one but John Christison. He has begun the breakwater, and he looked grubby and good and happy in his dismal way. I was rather disgusted with him. Why? GUISE. DRUS. Because he is forgetting me. I have lost my power over him. As I have lost my power over you. I want you to worship me as you did, and I can't make you. I feel that everything is slipping away from me; I feel that I'm going to be cheated out of my youth and beauty and the homage that men owe me ! Just when I long for more life, more pleasure, more empire! Oh! I hope I shall never live to grow old! 4 GUISE. 5 It would be a pity! DRUS. 6 What makes you such a stone towards me? Am I losing my power over everybody, as I have lost it over you ! GUISE. 7 Try ! There will be a crowd here to-night. Practice on them. You'll give us a dance? DRUS. Yes. Isn't my dress maddening? If you knew what trouble I've taken over it for you 83 * Enter Charles L. c. Dukf. nods head as if telling him to remove coffee tray. Ckarles clears table R. c. and exits L. c. * Resuming chair R. II. Call. Goldspink. Charles. Footmen. Lady Bawtry. Rises and goes L. With shrug of shoulders. Coming back R. c. 1 Rising. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. I 1 Back to fire. * Rising hur- riedly. * Running up- stairs to- wards L. * Stopping top of stairs and turning. On gallery to 1 Turning to mantel, sees clock. 8 Goes slowly across to L. until stopped by chair. 9 Goes back to Sitting in chair near fire R. Feels his pulse. GUISE. 1 For me? You are kind. I wished to make your dance a great success. My aunt, Lady Bawtry, will be here soon. DRUS. 2 And I've got to put the finishing touch to my dress. 3 But I must have another word with you before we part forever. 4 GUISE. Yes, one word more but only one Adieu ! DRUS. Oh, don't say it yet. [Exit.] 5 GUISE. 6 One word more, old love Adieu One word more, old world Adieu. 7 Ten minutes to twelve. 8 About another two hours' consciousness, and perhaps an- other hour more without consciousness ! Strange ! I shan't drop off to sleep to-night I shall drop off to death. But really one drops off to death every night for eight hours. 9 Except when one has in- somnia. Life's nothing more than insomnia after all and I've had it badly. 10 It would be rather in- teresting to leave behind me an account of my feel- ings for this last hour or so. 'Pon my word, I don't know that I have been such a fool after all. I've had a great deal of pleasure in life and I've got two or three more hours. Let me see how I really feel. I did sleep last night. I can understand now why a condemned man always sleeps so pleasantly the last night. Yes life is insomnia nothing more. 11 It's steady and regular about seventy, I should think. I never remember such a feeling of absolute serenity and superiority ! To think that all these poor devils who are coming to my reception to-night will be full of cares and anxiety, worrying themselves about all sorts of silly social conventions, dressing them- 84 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III selves up in the most expensive ridiculous way, lov- ing, hating, fighting, eating, drinking and scram- bling for happiness, or what they think happiness with not a bit of chance of reaching it and I shall be the only really happy one among them. Yes, decidedly I'm master of the situation. 1 Is it seventy-five? Perhaps but then it's the thought of to-night's frolic. 2 How they will chatter to- morrow what faces they will pull ! How they will moralize at my expense ! 3 I wonder if there is one single soul in this world that will be sorry that I have let it? Yes, one Midge. 4 I wish I could take her across the ferry with me ! I'll scribble her a line of adieu. The letters to Crake and Dyson, I'd forgotten them ! 5 Have I made Crake thor- oughly understand? About Di's settlement? It will be at least sufficient to ensure her from want in the event of her dancing engagements failing. 6 Yes that will do^-now for a line to Midge. 7 " My dear Midge, by the time you get this I shall be well on my way to the new world. I sail early to- morrow. The weather is very fair and the outlook favorable- 8 Goldspink, you paid all those little bills ? [GOLDSPINK enters.] 9 Yes, your Grace. GUISE. 10 I've left fifty pounds in your name at the Bank in case any claims arise after I've left England. GOLD. 11 I'm sorry your Grace won't allow me to accompany you on your travels. GUISE. 12 Well, the fact is, Goldspink, I don't think I shall require a valet. GOLD. Your Grace will be rather at a loss without one. 85 1 Feels pulse again. 1 Rising. 8 Slowly cross- ing L. Stopping. 8 Goes to escri- toire R. above fireplace, takes up two letters tying on desk 9 Opening let- ter and reads it to himself. 1 Stts and writes, read- ing as he writes. 8 Rings bell and folds note, seals it, etc. ' R. c. down c. Duke, rises, letters in hand. 10 Comes to back of table R. c. 11 c. "R.C. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 Lays the three letters on table R. c. * About to take them. s R. c. raising hand. GUISE. Perhaps, Goldspink, perhaps. But in these new countries one must expect to rough it a little at first. GOLD. Your Grace is taking a very small wardrobe. GUISE. Quite sufficient, Goldspink, quite sufficient. I wish these three letters to be posted early to-morrow morning. 1 GOLD. I'll post them myself, your Grace. 2 GUISE. 3 Early to-morrow morning not to-night. You understand. You'll see the last of poor Bully-boy? GOLD. Yes, your Grace. I've got the poison. GUISE. I tried to do it myself, but he licked my hand, and I hadn't the heart. You're sure he won't suffer? GOLD. Not a bit, your Grace. I had to put my old terrier out of the way last year, and he went off as quiet as a baby going to sleep. I hope you and me, your Grace, will go as comfortably, when our time comes. GUISE. I hope so, Goldspink. [Exit GoLDSPiNK. 4 Enter CHARLES," an- nouncing LADY BAWTRY. Enter LADY BAWTRY. 6 GUISE. 7 My dear aunt ! I knew you would come and 86 *B.O. L. L. Music pp p. 7 Guise comet c., meeting Lady B. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III do the honors for me, and shed a halo of respecta- bility over my last reception ! [Exit CHARLES.] 1 LADY B. 2 You wretched sinner ! I've shed so many haloes of respectability over you and your antics that I've scarcely a halo left to cover my own little peccadil- loes. GUISE. Your peccadilloes always become you so well, Auntie, that they form a halo in themselves. LADY B. If my faults are charming, it is because I have the good taste to keep them decently dressed. Nobody ever saw more than the ankle of any of my indis- cretions ! 3 GUISE. It was cruel of your faults to preserve their modesty. LADY B. 4 I wish your faults had any modesty to preserve. Your vices are so terrible decolletee s Really, Guise, you are too outrageous for words. And what have you gained by shocking society? GUISE. 5 Nothing. But see what society has gained by being shocked. LADY B. Well, what? You've scandalized everybody, of- fended everybody, made things uncomfortable for all your connections. It isn't that you are worse than anybody else I know dozens of men far worse than you. Look at Bawtry for instance he's going on dreadfully. But you've not played the game fairly. Society's the best tempered creature that ever lived society allows you to do as you please, 87 1 L. c., striking him with fan. III. Call. Reginald Slingsby. Charles. Footmen. Augustus Cheevers. Lady Poper- coach. Isabel Poper- coach. Mr. Vanstone. Lady Matt- land. Lady Baldwin. Miss Baldwin. Lady Brisling- ton. Miss Anstruth- er's. Mr. Augustus Anstruther's. Signor Poni- atowski, Ma- harajah of Jumpore. 3 Putting fan before her face. * Crossing R. 6 L.C. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL SC. I 1 Sitting L. of R. c. table, fanning her- self. *c. * Rises, coming to Ouise, tap- ping him on shoulder with fan c. believe as you please, be as wicked as you please only society says, " Don't do it openly I want to wink at your little follies, because I want you to wink at mine. 1 GUISE. 2 In short, " Be as immoral as you like, but don't make a fuss about it." LADY B. Exactly, and keep it out of the newspapers. We all must have our little follies and indiscretions. Hu- man nature is just what it always was and always will be. The world is just what it always was and always will be. 3 Society is just what it always was and always will be. What is the use of making yourself a nuisance by trying to reform it on the one hand, or shocking it and defying it on the other? No, no, you good-for-nothing fellow. Turn over a new leaf this very night, and if you're ever so much better than your neighbors, or ever so much worse, don't make them uncomfortable by letting them know it. GUISE. 4 I'm going to turn over a new leaf this very night. LADY B. 5 That lady is not coming to-night ? 6 GUISE. 7 A lady is coming who has promised to dance. LADY B. It's too bad of you, Guise I will not meet her ! 8 GUISE. You applauded her dancing last year. LADY B. 10 That was for charity. And everybody runs after her it's disgraceful. I'm not squeamish, Guise, but really, society is getting too mixed. Facing her seriously. c. Severely. Crossing L. B. c. 10 Turning L. c. 88 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III GUISE. 1 It is mixed but so it will be by and by in both the other places whatever principle of selection is adopted. LADY B. 2 I heard you had broken off with her. GUISE. I've not seen her for some time till to-night. LADY B. 3 Why did you bring her here to-night ? GUISE. 4 Because having done some injury to her reputation,. I thought, my dear auntie, that for the sake of your scapegrace nephew LADY B. I won't, Guise, positively, I wont 5 GUISE. 6 Yes, you will, Auntie. You'll be generous enough to take her under your wing, if at any time she should stand in need of a friend when I've left Eng- land. LADY B. I won't ! I'll never forgive you, never ! GUISE. You'll forgive me to-morrow at this time, Auntie. LADY B. I won't! You're too shocking for anything! 7 GUISE. 8 Come, Auntie we shan't see each other for a long while. Don't let us part bad friends ! 9 89 1 R. C. *L. C. * Annoyed ,' crossing R. 6 Coming to- wards L. Opposing her way. T Going R. c. * Guise offers hand, pause, before Lady Bawtry gives hers. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL SC. I LADY B. [Kissing him.] There ! You wretch ! I don't know where you're going, but wherever it is, you'll shock them. [Enter CHARLES, 1 announcing " MR. REGI- NALD SLINGSBY." Enter REGY.] 2 REGY. S How d'ye do, Guise? How d'ye do, Lady Baw- try? 4 LADY B. 5 Well, Mr. Slingsby, when shall we have the pleasure of congratulating you ? [CHARLES enters, 6 announcing SIR LIONEL and LADY BALDWIN and Miss BALD- WIN, who enter.] 7 REGY. 8 If I were to ask your advice on a little delicate mat- ter, Lady Bawtry, would you give it fearlessly and frankly ? [Erit CHARLES.] 9 LADY B. 10 Certainly, Mr. Slingsby. I'm not a very charitable woman, but I never refuse advice. REGY. 11 You've been to my little place you know my man Crapper? Well, my prospective mother-in-law, Lady Poperoach, has made herself so very objection- able to poor Crapper that things have come to a crisis and it's a question of my forbidding her the house or losing Crapper altogether. LADY B. 12 What a pity ! You'll have to let him go, then ? REGY. 13 Let him go ? ! Life would not be worth living with- out Crapper! 90 8 Shaking hands with Guise. Crossing to her. 6 R. C. L. As they en- ter Guise meets them c. They form, group at foot of stairs c. Regy draws Lady B. to B. c. down stage. c. 11 R. c. "a. 18 R. C. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III W. Call. Sybil Crake. LADY B. 1 Can't you persuade him to stay? REGY. 2 B. c. No, Crapper's as firm as a rock. He said to me an hour ago as he was dressing me, " Heaven forbid, sir," he said, " that I should prognosticate you against matrimony, but in the name of humanity," he said, " if it's like this before marriage, what's it going to be like after ? " And I said, " By Jove, you're right, Crapper," and I sat down there and then and I wrote my ultimatum to Lady Poperoach and Crapper's taken it and she's reading it this moment. Now, Lady Bawtry, don't you think I've done right? LADY B. But it will lead to breaking off the engagement ! REGY. Well, of course, it will be very unfortunate for me but if things come to the worst I may get another mother-in-law like Lady Poperoach, but I shall never get another valet like Crapper. {Enter CHARLES 3 announcing MR. AUGUS- TUS CHEEVERS; LORD and LADY BRIS- LINGTON. 4 [They enter and CHARLES exit.'} 5 REGY. 6 Guise, old fellow, this is a devilish momentous night for me. GUISE. 7 Is it? REGY. Yes, my fate is trembling in the balance. The next three or four hours will decide what becomes of me! 91 Lady Bawtry crosses to meet Lady Brislington L. C. Regy draws Duke to B c. 7 B.C. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL SC. I GUISE. And does it matter what becomes of you Regy ? [CHARLES enters l announcing LADY POPE- ROACH, Miss ISABEL POPEROACH. REGY immediately rushes up stairs and off. 2 Enter LADY POPEROACH and Miss POPEROACH. Exit CHARLES.] 3 LADY BRis. 4 I was rather doubtful about coming because well, because of the scandal but when I found everybody else was coming * L. on gallery, * Guise goes c. meeting Lady P. and Isabel. Lady Brislington comes down to Lady Bow- try. ' Coming down L. of Lady Bawtry. CHEEVERS. 5 And bringing their daughters LADY BRIS. I thought there could be no harm in it. Besides I wasn't sure that the the a a would be present. CHEEV. Oh, yes, the a a will be present. LADY BRIS. Is she going to dance ? CHEEV. Yes. Didn't you see the platform? LADY BRIS. I'm glad she's going to dance. Because it really puts her on the level of an entertainer and, of course, entertainers and artists, and those people they have morals of their own, haven't they? CHEEV. Oh, yes! Plenty! Of their own! LADY BAWTRY. I think great allowance ought to be made for 92 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III CHEEV. 1 For everybody who goes wrong. So do I. I believe with Socrates that all wrongdoing is quite involun- tary. I've only one rule in dealing with it to ex- tend to all man and womankind that plenary indulg- ence which I lavish upon myself. LADY BRIS. Oh, there's that dear Poniatowski ! 2 [Enter PONIATOWSKI left and off up stairs.] CHEEV. The fiddler who eloped with Mrs. Brocklehurst? LADY BRIS. They say he has played divinely ever since. We mustn't miss his solo. 3 [Exeunt crowd following PONIATOWSKI.] CHEEV. 4 Curious hangings, Guise ! Where did you pick them up, GUISE. 5 They are the funeral draperies of His Majesty, the late Emperor of China. CHEEV. A funeral must be rather a festive affair in China. GUISE. Why not? Why shouldn't it be here? If a man must die why should he make all his friends miser- able? The Romans used to feast at their funerals. Some more music. Tell Poniatowski to play again keep it up. [SYBIL enters 6 walking with aid of cane.] I hope when I die that not one eye will be the wetter, or one heart the heavier because a good- for-nothing fellow has gone 93 1 Enter Pomo- t owski a Pol- ish violinist L. c. ascend- ing stairs and going off L., violin under arm, followed by crowd. * Exeunt om- nes follow- ing Ponia- towski up- stairs and off L. as Lady P. and Isabel disappear Kegy returns running from L. down- stairs and off i_, Cheevers and Duke meets at foot of stairs. * R. C. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. I 1 And off L. Guise goes K. stands lean- ing against chair L. of table R. C. Violin solo faintly heard in the dis- tance L. Where? SYB. 1 GUISE. I don't know. [Exit CHEEVERS up stairs.] 2 The Chinaman thinks he's going into nothingness and this is his mourning. We think we are going to Paradise and our friends wear black kid gloves, crape hat-bands and hire a dozen men in black. We can't be going to a more comic world than this. 3 SYB. No, nor to a sadder. GUISE. I didn't expect you, Midge, I thought you wouldn't face the crowd! SYB. Oh, your rooms are so large. And I so much wanted to see Nero fiddling while Rome was blaz- ing. GUISE. I haven't provided that attraction. But there's the Hungarian Band and Poniatowski if he'll do? SYB. Yes, he'll do for Nero he can fiddle while your soul's not freezing. I want to talk to you. My foot's really better what's the matter with you ? Nothing. GUISE. SYB. What are you going to do after to-night ? GUISE. I leave the country early to-morrow morning. SYB. Where are you going? 94 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III B.a GUISE. On a voyage of discovery. SYB Where? GUISE. That's a secret. SYB. 1 Is it anywhere anywhere that a friend could ever come to you ? GUISE. 2 What friend? SYB. Myself ! GUISE. You! I think not! SYB. You're not going after those Arctic voyagers? GUISE. Yes, I'm going after those Arctic voyagers ! SYB. 3 Then you are going to try and do something for them at last. Oh, I'm glad you're setting yourself to something ! But won't it be very dangerous ? GUISE. Not very, I think. 4 Midge, what's the matter? Tears. SYB. "What shall I do when you're gone? GUISE. You have your poor people. SYB. Oh, but they're only my chicks. 95 V. Call. Davis Ives. Drusilla Ives. Charles. James. With strong emotion. * Sybil begins to cry. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 Solo ends, loud ap- plause, crowd comes from L. on gallery ap- plauding. They are de- scending the stairs when Augustus runs out from L. on gallery call- ing. " Now, Larly Bris- linyton, etc.'''' They all re- turn talking together. * Music. * Sybil starts to to go L. * Guise goes up stairs. * On gallery. * On gallery left. 1 Crossing R. * Sees letter on table a. Your chicks ? GUISE. SYB. I had a black hen at Danecourt with a lot of chicks and one duckling in her brood it was the duckling that was always getting into harm and giving her trouble, but it was the duckling that she loved poor silly creature ! My poor people are my chicks it's a pleasure to look after them ! But I don't want that I want the trouble and hopelessness of looking after you ! GUISE. [Aside.] I wish she hadn't come ! SYB. Besides, if you go away, I shall never pull you from under the horses' hoofs. Must you go ? GUISE. I must ! I've made every arrangement for going and none for staying. 2 CHEEV. Now, Lady Brislington, Miss Valrose is going to dance, 2 if you want to get a good place. SYB. [to GUISE.] Must you go ? GUISE. I must ! 3 Where are you going, Midge ? SYB. Home. I don't care much to look at dancing. 4 Where are you going? GUISE. 5 To the dance ! SYB. 7 Is he really going after those arctic voyagers 96 ? 8 A SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III letter for me ! In his handwriting ! x Strange ; I don't understand it ! I'll wait and see Nero riddling. [Exit SYB. up stairs. 2 Enter DAVID IvES, 3 forcing his way, CHARLES opposing him. DAVID. This is the Duke of Guisebury's ? 4 CHARLES. 5 Yes. What is your business? DAVID. 6 Tell thy master that David Ives would speak to him. CHARLES. 7 You cannot speak to him now. DAVID. 8 I can and I will. Take him my message or what's that noise ? What's that shouting ? 9 CHARLES. 10 Miss Valrose is dancing. 11 DAVID. 12 Miss Valrose dancing ! Where ? 13 [The crowd of guests enter ^ applauding DRUSILLA who is in dancing costume led by GUISE. They come down-stairs fol- lowed by guests. GUISE. 15 David Ives. DRUS. 16 You! DAVID. 17 Thy name, woman! Dost thou hear? Who art thou ? I want to know thy name ? DRUS. 18 Drusilla Ives ! 7 97 1 Opens and reads letter. * And off at gallery right. * Left down- stairs. T L. C. Pushing Chas. away to R. c. 9 Tremendous applause and crie* of "Bravo!" off left on gallery. 11 The applause and cries of Bravo ! in- crease. 15 David crosses to R. by table. Stop Music. l On gallery L. 15 On stairs L. c 16 On stairs R. c 17 R. c. below. 18 c. on stairs. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. i * Pointing L, * Indignant clamor among guests on stairs and gallery. * Crossing L. c. to crowd. On stair u of DrusiUa. DAVID. 1 Drusilla Ives! I thought it was Delilah or Jezebel or Valrose ! Drusilla Ives ! Then it seems that thou art my daughter ! Get a cloak or shawl to cover thy infamy and come with me ! There lies thy way ! 2 DRUS. No ! That is your way ! This is mine ! 3 DAVID. 4 [to guests.] I don't know your ways, but I suppose you're made of flesh and blood the same as I am and you have fathers and children that's my child my firstborn I want to speak to my child alone ! Perhaps you'll give me leave. GUISE. 5 Your father wishes to speak to you your father ! DAVID. I'll deal with thee to-morrow ! GuiSE. 6 [To DAVID.] 7 To-morrow ! If you please ! 8 Some music there please ! Tell them to give us some music ! Some music ! Get them away ! I beg you ! Will you go if you please ! [Exeunt GUISE and guests leaving DAVID and DRUSILLA.] DAVID. 9 Now, thou shameless one! DRUS. 10 Spare yourself, father ! Words will not move me nor threats. DAVID. 11 What will then? Thou thou wanton! Thou be- trayer of men ! What hast thou to say. 12 98 c. 'L. c. 8 Guise turns to crowd, ushering them out on gallery to L. and follojo- ing, leaving David and Dntsilla. L. of Drus. C. 10 Comf ng down from stairs c. "L. c. Threatening gesture, hand raised to strike. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III * Drusilla moves to- ward stair, David bar her way. *C. DRUS. 1 Strike me then, if you will ! 2 You'll be reasonable ? David draws very well ! Listen to reason then ! You gave me DTUS^'C. life you gave me health and strength and beauty ! You brought me up as you thought best But your mean, narrow life stifled me, crushed me! I couldn't breathe in it ! I wanted a larger, freer, wider life I was perishing for want of it! I've kept up a life of deception for five years to spare you pain for your sake not for mine! Now it's over! You know me ! You see me as I am I am the topmost rose on the topmost branch and I love the sunshine I want admiration applause ! I want to live and live in every pulse of me! For every moment of my life and I will ! I will be myself ! You cannot change me ! Leave me ! Let me go ! 3 DAVID. 4 Let thee go ! Let thee go to destruction ! Stay art thou indeed my child? No surely thou art some changeling thou art not the little golden-haired maiden that would climb on my knees, and throw her arms around my neck on Sunday evenings and whisper her prayers in my ear, while my prayers and thanks went up to Him who had given her to me ! Oh, if there is any of my blood left in thee, if there was any faith and virtue in me when I wedded thy mother if there was faith and virtue and truth in her if her love for me was not a lie own thyself my child again ! My heart is breaking to gather thee to me ! I will forgive thee ! It is I, thy father ! I will not be angry with thee any longer I will plead with thee I will win thee back again to repentance and righteousness ! Come back with me, my daugh- ter! DRUS. Hear me, father you and I live in a different world all the old things have gone the very words you use righteousness, repentance, and the rest seem 99 ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. I strange to me! I have forgotten them they are no longer in use they are old-fashioned and out- worn! Do you hear? You are mad to think you will change me. I tell you the old life is gone! Waste no more words on me ! It's vain ! I am your daughter no longer ! Leave me ! Leave me and for- get me! DAVID. Forget thee! I would I could forget thee! Forget thee ! No come with me, my child I, thy father, command thee. Get some cloak to cover thee ! Dost thou hear? Get rid of these! I'll strip thy shame from thee ! 1 I'll leave thee none of it ! 1 Seizing her, dragging the trail of rose* from her skirt. 1 Struggles, breaks from him. runs halfway up steps. *L.C. Kneels. 6 David rushes off i,. Dru- silla falls on stair and rolls down. All the guests enter and come down- stairs form- ing tableau, talking. Drus. rises, fights her way through them and exits L. On gallery L. DRUS. 2 Are you mad? Stay there! If you come a step nearer stop there, I say ! Now, have you any more to say to me? DAVID. 3 Yes thou hast scorned and defied me shut the gate on my love and forgiveness. If that word " father " means anything if there is any reverence and authority left in it may thy stubborn, rebel- lious heart be broken as thou hast broken mine may thy beauty wither and canker thee may thy frame be racked 4 I, thy father, pray it that thy soul may be gnawn with sorrow and despair that thy spirit may be humbled and thy proud neck bowed with agony to the dust till thou turn to thy God and thy father's God at the last! I have said it ! It is my last word to thee! 8 [Exit.} [DRUS. falls on stairs; and the guests enter, and group round her. She beats her way through the people and exit. A burst of music, very loud. GUISE enters, looks round. Music suddenly stops; a loud hubbub at left on gallery. LADY BAWTRY enters, 9 very distressed.] 100 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT III LADY B. 1 Guise! the people are asking what has happened. They are all talking about the scene here! There will be a dreadful scandal to-morrow ! Half of them have gone off terribly offended. [Hubbub of departing guests. 2 Carriages called. 3 GUISE leans against staircase taking no notice of anything, staring in front of him.] What's the matter with you? Can't you say any- thing to them? Speak to them. Say something! [He does not heed her.~\ [LADY B. makes a gesture of despair and comes down-stairs. ExitJ] 4 [Hubbub and chatter of departing guests.'] 5 [CHEEVERS and LADY BRISLINGTON have entered. 6 LADY BRIS. [to CHEEVERS who is helping with her cloak.'] I'm sorry I came here! [With marked emphasis. ,] It was a mistake. CHEEV. 7 Guise, old fellow, this is very unfortunate. LADY BRIS. S Mr. Cheevers, will you see if my carriage is ready? [CHEEV. gives arm, LADY BRIS. passes GUISE with marked discourtesy. Hub- bub continues, shouting for carnages, etc. Guests all exeunt, leaving GUISE standing alone motionless. Enter GOLD- SPINK.] 9 GOLD. What time shall I call your Grace? [GuiSE takes no notice.'] What time shall I call your Grace? 10 Good night, your Grace. [Exit** 101 1 On stairs L. c. 1 All the guests exeunt L. 1 Charlesheard off L. calling in a loud voice, " Lady Poperoach's carriage ! Lady Bald- win's car- riage ! Lady Bawtry's carriage ! Lady Bris- lington's car- riage ! Lady Maitland's carriage ! Mr. Van- stone's qar- riage ! Miss Anstruther's carriage ! Sir Reginald Palliser's carriage ! Sir Henry Drysdale's carriage ! " * Cheevers re- enters on gal- lery L. with Lady Bris- lington, they descend stairs. 8 On gallery L. T Coming down stairs with Lady Bris. Coming down stairs R. c. On gallery from L. 10 A long pause. " Goldspink draws cur- tains behind Guise and exit on gal- lery L. leav- ing Guise standing alone on stairs. ACT III THE DANCING GIRL sc. i [Clocks strikes two.] GUISE. There goes my knell ! Bankrupt! Suicide! Who'll find me ! Where will they bury me ? The cathedral or the cross-roads? For this part of me I don't mind and for the other Nirvana nothingness! Heaven hell who knows who cares! Bank- rupt! Suicide! Beggar in honor in estate in friends in love. I won't do it like a coward, I'll die game ! I've lived like a careless fool and I'll die like a careless fool. A little less light {Switches off electric light. Enter SYBIL on stairs.] * Come, Nirvana [Takes out bottle.] My very good friends, who have liked me my very good enemies who have hated me my dear, good women who haven't loved me, my dear weak women who have emperors, charlatans, pickpockets, brother fools, good fellows all here's forgetfulne.ss and forgiveness in this world and a merry meeting in the next! 2 Good night! Good night! Good night ! [Raises phial; SYBIL has come down stairs behind him, she draws down his hand, away from the poison. CURTAIN. [Two years pass between Acts HI and IV.] 1 On gallery from a. 1 Sitting on chair L. of table. 102 ACT III. Door under Gallerv Door under Gallery Gallery Curtains hung from Gallery Chair Fire-Place Curtains hung from Gallery n Double Doors I. Cdtt. Duke of Chaise- bury. Sybil Crake. David Ives. Sister Bea- trice. 1 Seated on rock R. o. Music. * R. u. E. cornea downc. L. of Quite. ACT IV. THE DESIRED HAVEN. [Same scene as in Act /.] [ GUISE discovered, 1 changed, aged.fi GUISE. My work done ! My promise kept ! Only that one last stone to lay. Yes, Endellion's safe. I've done something at last. It's about the only thing I have done. I don't remember what else there is to go on my tombstone. [SYB. enters.] 2 SYB. S Thoughts ? Sad or pleasant ? GUISE. Sadly pleasant. I was composing my epitaph. SYB. [Quickly, a little alarmed.'] But you don't intend to need one at present ? GUISE. No, Midge. But I was thinking what a poor epitaph mine will be when it has to be written. " Here lies Valentine Danecourt, Duke of Guisebury. He lived at issue with the Ten Commandments and died at peace with all men." 104 ACT IV THE DANCING GIRL sc. I l Riset. 1 Goet R. SYB. " P. S. He built Endellion breakwater." And then will follow the rest of your good deeds which you haven't done yet. GUISE. 1 I haven't done this it isn't I who have built it. 2 SYB. S Yes, it is not with your hands, but with your head and heart. Where would it have been in the gale last November if you hadn't stood by the men day and night and kept up their courage? Don't you remember how they were running away from it, and you stood there and made them all ashamed of themselves? Oh, it has changed you! GUISE. I shall never be the same man that I was before my illness. That dreadful two months. 4 You pulled me through, Midge, but I'm maimed for life. Oh, Midge, those thirty-five wasted years. SYB. They don't count. It's your two well-spent years that count. That's life. To save a little out of the wreck to show a balance on the right side. That's life. GUISE. Midge, sometimes you make me feel almost good. SYB. But you are good didn't you know that ? GUISE. Am I ? I don't go to church very often. SYB. Yes, you do in your way. 105 Coming to her and taking her hand. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT I"V 1 Sitting on rock R. c. Rites. Crossing R. GUISE. 1 And I don't believe in much. SYB. Yes, you do. You believe in work, and you believe in all the great things that people call by different names. GUISE. What things ? SYB. The things that all our wise people pretend to be quarrelling about. But they're only quarrelling about words they all believe in the things. GUISE. What things do you mean ? SYB. Why, all the watchwords and passwords Faith, Duty, Love, Conscience, God. Nobody can help be- lieving them. Turn them out at the door, they only fly in at the window trample them into the ground, they spring up again stronger than ever. Prove them falsehoods in Greek and Latin, and you only find that they are the first truths that the mother tells to her baby. [ GUISE nods.'] GUISE. 2 Midge, what would you have done if you had been too late that night if I had done it? SYB. Oh, I don't know. I think I should have come after you, and snatched you back somehow. GUISE. [Startled, takes her hands.] Midge, is it too late to pick up the pieces ? SYB. 3 Hush! 106 ACT IV THE DANCING GIRL sc. i [DAVID IVES, much older, in deep mourning, enters from house* As he passes * comes to*. GUISE the two men look at each other for a moment, but make no sign. DAVID turns and goes on sternly.] GUISE. 2 You've not spoken to me since I've been in the island. Can't you forget the past? DAVID. [Calmly, without resentment]. I'm in mourning for my daughter Drusilla. 3 [GUISE exits with great despair* SYBIL hops up to DAVID.] 5 SYB. There's a certain little passage, Mr. Ives, you know the passage I mean something about forgiveness you've said it every night and morning for fifty years if I were you, Mr. Ives, when you say that little passage to-night, I should ask myself what it means. [Hops off.] 7 DAVID. [Looking after her.] Perhaps you're right who knows? It is in Thy hands ! [Exit. 6 Enter up from path by beach 9 a Sister of Mercy, Sister Beatrice.] SISTER B. 10 Can you tell me which is Mr. David Ives' house? DAVID. 11 I am David Ives. SISTER B. 12 I am Sister Beatrice who wrote you eight months ago from New Orleans. DAVID. Concerning the death of my daughter Drusilla. It 107 L. c. 8 Goes up to R c. stands looking over cliff. * L. D. E. 'L. ofhim. II. Call. Faith Ives. John Christi- son. Reginald Slingsby. Mr. Crake. L. Music No. 16. ^Coming down c. " R. c. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT IV was thou who nursed her. [Shakes hands, a pause.] Did she repent? SISTER B. She died in peace, and received pardon from the Church. DAVID. Tell me what was her manner of life before be- fore she died? I saw in a newspaper that she was dancing in public in New Orleans. Was it so ? SISTER B. You have forgiven her. She is dead. Don't ask any more. DAVID. Nay, but I will know. Tell me the truth. Hide nothing the truth the whole truth. She was dancing how long before she died ? SISTER B. She was dancing on the DAVID. Go on. SISTER B. On the Sunday night. DAVID. And died when? SISTER B. The Wednesday morning. [DAVID utters a great cry of pain and sinks onto rock overcome."] l Be comforted. Heaven is full of forgiveness. [DAVID after a pause, rises as if half -dazed, speaks in a quiet, hoarse, indifferent tone.] DAVID. You have some things of hers. Where are they ? 1 08 ACT IV THE DANCING GIRL sc. i 1 R. at back. 1 From house L. 1 Supporting Faith. SISTER B. In the sailing boat that brought me over. DAVID. If you'll show me where they are, I'll bring them up. [Exit SISTER B. down cliff, ,] l Dancing before all the city one Sunday night in her grave the next. [Exit down cliff after SISTER B.] [Enter FAITH and JOHN.] 2 JOHN. 3 Take care, dear one, thou must not tax thy strength. FAITH. But I am well-nigh recovered. I do not need to lean on you. JOHN. Yet do it if not from need, lean on me from love. FAITH. It is sweet to breathe the air again. Why dost thou look at me with such a strange, new tenderness? JOHN. Because thou art so strangely dear to me. FAITH. Dost thou love me more than when I wedded thee? JOHN. Indeed I do. When I told thee of all that had hap- pened to me in London and thou didst forgive me all my shameful past, I thought I could not love thee more. Oh, Faith, I do not deserve such happi- ness as thou hast given me ! FAITH. [Suddenly.'] Hush! [Listening towards the cottage door.] Dost thou not hear ? 109 SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT IV JOHN. No, there's nothing. FAITH. [Nodding.] Yes. My ears are quicker than thine. [Exit into cottage.] 1 JOHN. [Looking after her.] How could I ever stray from thee? Thou hast brought me home. 2 [Enter from cliff above, REGY and CRAKE.] 3 CRAKE.* Ah, Mr. Christison, so we shall get this last stone laid to-morrow ? JOHN. 5 Yes, the Duke has been kind enough to put off lay- ing the last stone till my wife could be there. And it's to be to-morrow. * Leaning againtt porch. L. 3 *. L. 'L. Coming up to L. of Crake. REGY. 8 That's a comfort. I promised poor old Guise I'd wait till it was over. Now I can toddle back to town on Tuesday. London's good enough for me. CRAKE. [Looking down over cliff below.] 7 Look, that boat has come round the corner now she's making for the breakwater. JOHN. 8 A boat to-day ! Where does she come from ? CRAKE. There's a large sailing vessel standing off the point, and the boat got off from her about half an hour ago. JOHN. Put in for water, I suppose. They're calling to the men on shore. There's quite a crowd gathering. All the folks are coming out of their houses. Look, no ACT IV THE DANCING GIRL sc. i they're all running to the breakwater, be? [Exit hurriedly down cliff.'] 1 What can it REGY. Come back with me to town on Tuesday, Crake? CRAKE. 2 No, I must stay on with the Duke. REGY. He's very glad he's got you back CRAKE. again. Ah, I ought never to have left him. It was a shabby thing to do And though I was making a good thing out of the Chichester property, I was very glad to throw it up and come back to Guisebury. REGY. Poor old Guise. Fancy his sticking down here for two years. Look at the place. It's bad enough on a week day. Look at it on a Sunday afternoon. What was it made for ? CRAKE. Well, why did you come here ? REGY. I'm a little bit goey on the chest, and I've done Monte Carlo till I'm sick of it. My doctor happened to mention Penzance, and so, as old Guise was down here, I thought, like a fool, I'd come and give him a look up. Well, I came and when I'd been here ten minutes, I sat down on the top of a rock, and I sol- emnly asked myself this question, " What am I here for? Why did I give up my club, and my decent cooking, and my snug little rooms in the Albany to come down to this benighted spot and play Robinson Crusoe for the benefit of the sea-gulls? " What am I doing it for, Crake, eh ? in 1 Coming down C. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT IV CRAKE. Just so. What are you? REGY. [Confidentially.] I say, Crake, sometimes I can't understand myself. CRAKE. No? What is there in your character that puzzles HI. Call. Duke of Guise- bury. David Ive8. Mrs. Christi- son. Sybil Crake. you REGY. I've knocked about the world all my life been everywhere seen everything done everything. You'd call me a pretty smart, wide-awake fellow, wouldn't you, Crake ? CRAKE. [Dubiously.] Ye-es. REGY. There's nothing of the fool about me, is there? CRAKE. Not at all. REGY. Then why do I keep on acting like a fool ? Why do I go and land myself in one infernal scrape after an- other ? CRAKE. Ah, just so. Why do you? REGY. [Very confidentially.] Sometimes, Crake, I fancy I'm more of a fool, than anybody suspects. I let Lady Poperoach twist me round her finger. CRAKE. But you were clever enough to get out of that in the end. REGY. Yes, because they caught Jack Percival. You don't 112 ACT IV THE DANCING GIRL sc. i marry his cook ? to the cook. Oh, it's of no consequence except {Enter GUISE.] 4 Well, Duke, you may congratulate yourself Endel- lion will turn out a splendid property after all. It's lucky the harbor was built just in time to develop the trade of the island. 8 113 Taking out letter. think Lady Poperoach would let me walk out of the trap unless she was sure Jack would walk in not likely. Poor Jack ! CRAKE. Hasn't the marriage between Mr. Percival and Miss Poperoach turned out quite quite REGY. [Chuckles.] Yes quite. I had a letter from Jack the other day. 1 Three weeks ago Lady Poperoach took away his latch-key, and deliberately dropped it over the bridge into the Serpentine in Jack's presence. [Pulls out his own latch-key, gazes at it very affectionately, puts it back in waistcoat pocket, chuckles, reads letter.'} " Lady Poperoach unfortunately discovered Jack's rare collection of antique prints. She burnt the whole collection." [Shakes hands cordially with himself.] I can't be so very much of a fool after all, Crake, for I'm nearly forty and I've kept out of it till now. Poor old Jack ! Stole his latch-key ! Shake hands, Regy, dear old boy. [Shakes hands with himself.] Well, Crake, I've enjoyed my chat with you. What the deuce to do with myself before dinner ! [Exit.] 2 CRAKE. [Looking after him.] 3 If he lives till he's seventy I wonder whether he'll R. u. E. B. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT IV IL.C. a B. o. 3 R 1 E. Goes to a., c., sits on rock. * L. 3 B. GUISE. 1 Sybil always said it would. Crake, who was fool enough to advance the money ? CRAKE. 2 What does it matter? It was a capital investment for him. GUISE. Who was it? CRAKE. [Uneasy.] Well, Duke, I'd saved a considerable sum in your service, and after I'd left you, I felt ashamed of it, and when Sybil came to me and said she wanted the money I'd saved for her, to invest, I found that I could manage to raise enough to begin the break- water, and as it was going on well, I've had no dif- ficulty in getting the remainder. GUISE. [Shakes his head.] You're a thoroughly bad, unnatural father, Crake, to risk her money on such a worthless fellow as I. How can I thank you, Crake? CRAKE. Virtue is its own reward, Duke. Virtue and five per cent. [Exit.] 3 GUISE. Yes, she was right. Everybody begins to respect me. I used to stand in such horror of being re- spected. It's rather a comfortable feeling after all. 4 [DAVID enters.] 5 DAVID. He's there! Shall I give it to him myself? No, I've no dealings with him. [Goes towards house, then repeats SYB'S words.] There's a certain little passage, Mr. Ives, something about forgiveness." 114 ACT IV SC. I 1 Guise rises. [Stops, turns, goes up to GUISE.] I've something for you. 1 They've brought me back the things that belonged to her. I dare not bring them to my house till I have made way with all the tokens of her occupation dancing dresses and the like. When I was looking them through I found this letter it's meant for you you see she begun it and never finished it. [GuiSE takes it, reads it,~\ Is there anything in it that concerns me? GUISE. Read it. [Gives it to DAVID; DAVID reads it; shows emotion.] DAVID. You offered to make her your wife? Yes. She refused you? Yes. You loved her? Yes. GUISE. DAVID. GUISE. DAVID. GUISE. [DAVID offers his hand; a silent handshake between the two men; DAVID goes into house.'} 2 He forgives me ! If I could forgive myself. If I could once pass those little homes down there with- out remembering that my broken word robbed each of them of a husband, or a father ! [MRS. CHRISTISON creeps on in the dusk.] 3 MRS. C. 4 Your Grace, they're all come back from the dead but my Mark is not with them. L.SB. SC. I THE DANCING GIRL ACT IV B.C. Cheers in dis- tance. L.SK. 4 Distant cheering off L. Mrs. Chris- tison goes up looks over cliff and exit R. 3E. L. of him. Poor thing! GUISE. ] MRS. C. They're all so old, so changed. You wouldn't know them. GUISE. Yes, yes, you must expect them to be changed. [Soothingly.] MRS. C. But why hasn't my Mark come back with them? There are all his old friends, Stephen and Captain Leddra Go away! some day ! There ! GUISE. [Startled.] What! Don't speak of them. There! You'll meet your husband Don't say any more. MRS. C. But all the island is rejoicing. 2 They were all like you. They wouldn't believe it at first. Nobody knew Capt. Leddra his wife didn't know him, but when she saw that it was himself indeed, she screamed for joy and hung about his neck. [SYBIL enters.] 3 GUISE. Woman! Be silent! Don't bring your mad tales here. Ah my poor woman your husband will come back some day. 4 [To SYB.] Shall I never forget it! Shall I always be reminded of it! It's no use, Midge. I'm chained to look always back- wards. But I cannot reach one hand or move one step to change the past. [Sinks upon rock in de- spair. Distant cheering from the beach below.] SYB. [Creeps up to him.] 5 The woman's tale is not so impossible after all. 116 ACT IV THE DANCING GIRL sc. I 1 Coming on his L., sits on rock. 1 Goea to bock, looks over. Others have returned before it is just possible that they may have escaped. GUISE. No ! No ! I've gone through it thousands of times Besides the ship was broken up the fragments were found. SYB. 1 But if they had reached home after all ! GUISE. Midge! [Looks at her.] My God! It's true! 2 SYB. [Pointing to the beach below.] Look! [A bell rings loudly from below.] GUISE. Are they all saved? SYB. All the Endellion men all are safe. GUISE. All! All! [Bursts into tears.] 3 SYB. [Touches him; he turnsJf So He bringeth them to their desired haven. GUISE. And me to my desired haven. SYB. Listen'! ([Faint cheers^] CURTAIN. * Sinks on rock up stage, fac- ing R. Bell leaves off ; cheering. Music swells. 117 LIGHTING PLOT. ACT I. Open White. Pole ambers from Perches. Blue Box limes on sea cloth, ist Cue Check battens and floats, change Perches to dark ambers gradually. White limes behind transparency gradually to full. (The Blue limes on back cloth remain.) ACT II. Open full White. Red lime at fireplace, ist Cue Check White gradually a little. Focus red lime on Guisebury at end of Act. Other lights remain. ACT III. Open full White. Chandelier full. Amber limes Perches. ist Cue As curtains are being closed check lights at back r and gradually check floats to half. Amber limes from Perches focussed on Guisebury. 2nd Cue Chandelier out, floats, battens and lengths, all out at (switch.) Pale blue and focus limes Perches onGuisebury for end of Act. ACT IV. Sunset. Dark amber limes, floats and battens half up. Light behind transparency. PROPERTY PLOT. ACT I. Nil. ACT II. DRAWING-ROOM. Curtains at window, carpet down. Table and two chairs in inner room. Curtains at C. opening, cabinet L,. R. Small table I* C. with bowl on same. Brandy decanter and glasses on cabinet L. Couch L. with curtains and drapery. Small foot- stool by same. I/arge table R. C., chairs either side, writing materials and cheque-book on same. Rug at fireplace R. Fen- dor and fire-irons, clock and ornaments on mantle, chairs and usual dressings to scene. 118 THE DANCING GIRL 119 ACT III. Plush carpet down. Cabinet R. I,. Curtains to all openings practicable. Table L. with chair. Writing materials, large couch R., cushions, small phial for Guisebury, chandelier, coffee on salver off R. Liqueur decanter and glasses. Spirit-lamp, and matches on same. Cigarettes. Ash tray. Two written letters on table L,. ACT IV. Repeat ACT L University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 Box 951388 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 Return this; riirteriaTifa Jtrie JBrary from which it was borrowed. r APR 1 2001 SRLF QUARTER LOAN UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A 000 045 502 2