The Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Woman, by Sydney Grundy
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: The New Woman
An Original Comedy, In Four Acts
Author: Sydney Grundy
Release Date: September 22, 2012 [EBook #40839]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NEW WOMAN ***
Produced by Paul Haxo from page images generously made
available by Google and the Princeton University Library.
THE NEW WOMAN
AN ORIGINAL COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS
BY
SYDNEY GRUNDY
LONDON PRINTED AT THE CHISWICK PRESS 1894
CHARACTERS.
GERALD CAZENOVE.
COLONEL CAZENOVE.
CAPTAIN SYLVESTER.
JAMES ARMSTRONG.
PERCY PETTIGREW.
WELLS.
SERVANTS.
MARGERY.
LADY WARGRAVE.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
MISS ENID BETHUNE.
MISS VICTORIA VIVASH.
DR. MARY BEVAN.
ACTS 1 and 2: _At Gerald Cazenove's._
ACT 3: _Drawing-room at Lady Wargrave's._
ACT 4: _An Orchard at Mapledurham._
PAGE
Act I. . . . . . . . . 5
Act II. . . . . . . . . 40
Act III. . . . . . . . 69
Act IV. . . . . . . . . 91
THE NEW WOMAN.
ACT I.
SCENE.--_GERALD CAZENOVE'S Chambers. A sitting-room, somewhat
effeminately decorated. The furniture of the boudoir type, several
antimacassars and a profusion of photographs and flowers. The main
entrance, R. at back, in the flat. Doors, R. and L., window, L. of
flat._
_A knock is heard off, as curtain rises. Enter WELLS, L., crosses
stage and opens door in flat. Enter COLONEL CAZENOVE and SYLVESTER._
COLONEL.
Is my nephew at home?
WELLS.
No, Colonel; but I expect him every moment.
COLONEL.
Very well; I'll wait. [_Exit WELLS, door in flat._] Bah! what a stench
of flowers! [_Opens window and throws out a bunch of lilies standing
on the table below._] Sit down, Sylvester--if you can find a chair to
carry twelve stone.
SYLVESTER.
Really, I feel a sort of trespasser.
COLONEL.
Sit down.
SYLVESTER [_sits_].
I don't know Cazenove very well----
COLONEL.
I'm much in the same case. Since he came up to town, I've only called
upon him once before. By Jove, it was enough. Such a set as I met
here!
SYLVESTER.
I understood that he was up the river.
COLONEL.
Came back yesterday. Hope it's done him good. After all, he's my
nephew, and I mean to knock the nonsense out of him.
SYLVESTER.
Colonel, you're very proud of him; and you have every reason to be.
From all I hear, few men have won more distinction at Oxford.
COLONEL [_pleased_].
Proud of him? My dear Sylvester, that boy has more brains in his
little finger than I have--gout. He takes after his aunt Caroline. You
remember Caroline?
SYLVESTER.
Oh, I remember Lady Wargrave well.
COLONEL.
Wonderful woman, sir--a heart of gold--and a head--phew! Gerald takes
after her. At Oxford, he carried everything before him.
SYLVESTER [_laughing_].
And now these women carry him behind them!
COLONEL.
But he's a Cazenove! He'll come right side up. We Cazenoves always do.
We may go under every now and then, but we come up again! It's in the
blood.
SYLVESTER.
According to my wife--and Agnes is a clever woman in her way----
COLONEL.
Don't know her.
SYLVESTER.
His cultivated spirit and magnetic intellect are one of the brightest
hopes for the social progress of our time--[_Laughs._] whatever that
may mean!
COLONEL.
Does it mean anything? That is the sort of jargon Gerald was full of,
when I saw him last. But he'll get over it. Intellectual measles.
Oxford's a fine place, but no mental drainage.
SYLVESTER.
I can form no opinion. I hadn't the advantage of a university
training.
COLONEL.
I had. I was rusticated. We Cazenoves always were--till Gerald's time.
But he'll redeem himself. We Cazenoves have always been men, except
one. That's my sister, Caroline; and, by Jove, she's the next best
thing--a woman.
[_Rising, in his enthusiasm--the antimacassar slips on to the seat._
SYLVESTER.
A real woman.
COLONEL.
Caroline's a heart of gold----
SYLVESTER.
Yes, so you said.
COLONEL.
Did I? I beg your pardon. [_Sits on the antimacassar, instantly
springs up, and flings it into a corner. Points to that covering
SYLVESTER'S chair._] Throw that thing away!
SYLVESTER.
All right. I'm used to 'em. We grow 'em at our house. [_Looks round._]
I might be sitting in my wife's boudoir! Same furniture, same flowers,
same photographs--hallo, that's rather a pretty woman over there!
[_Crosses._
COLONEL.
A pretty woman, where? [_Crosses._] No, not my style!
SYLVESTER.
Ha! ha!
COLONEL.
What are you laughing at?
SYLVESTER.
My wife! I didn't recognize her.
[_Goes about examining photographs._
COLONEL.
Ten thousand pardons! I had no idea----
SYLVESTER.
Bless me, my wife again!
COLONEL [_looking_].
That's better. That's much better.
SYLVESTER.
It's an older photograph. Agnes was quite a woman when I married her,
but she grows more and more ethereal. Philosophy doesn't seem very
nourishing.
COLONEL.
She's a philosopher?
SYLVESTER.
Haven't you read her book? "Aspirations after a Higher Morality."
COLONEL.
The old morality's high enough for me.
SYLVESTER.
I've tried to read it, but I didn't succeed. However, I've cut the
leaves and dropped cigar ash on the final chapter. Why, here she is
again!
COLONEL.
_Three_ photographs? And you're not jealous?
SYLVESTER.
My dear Colonel, who am I to be jealous?
COLONEL.
Her husband, aren't you?
SYLVESTER.
Yes, I am Mrs. Sylvester's husband. I belong to my wife, but my wife
doesn't belong to me. She is the property of the public. Directly I
saw her photograph in a shop-window I realized the situation. People
tell me I've a wife to be proud of; but they're wrong. Mrs. Sylvester
is not my wife; I am her husband.
COLONEL [_taking up a book_].
This is what comes of educating women. We have created a Frankenstein.
"Man, the Betrayer--A Study of the Sexes--By Enid Bethune."
SYLVESTER.
Oh, I know her. She comes to our house.
COLONEL.
And has a man betrayed her?
SYLVESTER.
Never. Not likely to.
COLONEL.
That's what's the matter, perhaps?
SYLVESTER.
Her theory is, that boys ought to be girls, and young men should be
maids. [_COLONEL throws down the book._] That's how she'd equalize the
sexes.
COLONEL.
Pshaw! [_Takes up another book._] "Ye Foolish Virgins!--A
Remonstrance--by Victoria Vivash."
SYLVESTER.
Another soul! She's also for equality. Her theory is, that girls
should be boys, and maids should be young men. Goes in for latchkeys
and that sort of thing.
COLONEL [_throws down the book_].
Bah! [_Takes up a third._] "Naked and Unashamed--A Few Plain Facts and
Figures--by Mary Bevan, M.D." Who on earth's she?
SYLVESTER.
One of the plain figures. _She_ comes to our house, too.
COLONEL [_reads_].
"The Physiology of the Sexes!" Oh, this eternal babble of the sexes!
[_Throws book down._] Why can't a woman be content to be a woman? What
does she want to make a beastly man of herself for?
SYLVESTER.
But my wife isn't a woman.
COLONEL.
None of them are, my boy. A woman, who _is_ a woman, doesn't want to
be anything else. These people are a sex of their own, Sylvester. They
have invented a new gender. And to think my nephew's one of them!
[_Strides up and down, seizes another antimacassar and flings it into
another corner._
SYLVESTER.
Oh, he's young. Don't despair!
COLONEL.
I don't despair! Do you suppose this folly can continue? Do you
imagine that these puffed-up women will not soon burst of their own
vanity? Then, the reaction! then will come _our_ turn! Mark my words,
Sylvester, there'll be a boom in men!
[_Rubbing his hands._
_Enter GERALD, door in flat._
GERALD.
Good afternoon. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.
[_Shakes hands with COLONEL._
COLONEL.
Here you are, at last.
GERALD [_shaking hands with SYLVESTER_].
How's Mrs. Sylvester?
SYLVESTER.
I was just going to ask you. You see more of her than I do.
GERALD.
We are collaborating.
COLONEL.
In the Higher Morality?
SYLVESTER.
How are you getting on?
GERALD.
Oh, we are only on the threshold. I finished the first chapter about
daybreak.
COLONEL.
That's how you waste the precious hours of night? Gad, sir, when I was
your age----
GERALD.
That was thirty years ago. Things have changed since then.
COLONEL.
And they haven't improved.
GERALD.
That is a question.
COLONEL.
Oh, everything's a question nowadays! Nothing is sacred to a young man
fresh from Oxford. Existence is a problem to be investigated; in my
youth, it was a life to be lived; and, I thank Heaven, I lived it. Ah,
the nights _I_ had!
SYLVESTER.
Would it be impertinent to inquire upon what subject my wife is
engaged?
GERALD.
Our subject is the Ethics of Marriage.
SYLVESTER.
Of my marriage?
GERALD.
Of marriage in the abstract.
COLONEL.
As if people married for ethics! There is no such thing, sir. There
are no ethics in marriage.
GERALD.
That is the conclusion at which we have arrived.
COLONEL.
You are only on the threshold, and yet you have arrived at a
conclusion?
GERALD.
So much is obvious. It is a conclusion to which literature and the
higher culture inevitably tend. The awakened conscience of woman is
already alive to it.
COLONEL.
Conscience of woman! What are you talking about? I've known a good
many women in my time, and they hadn't a conscience amongst 'em!
There's only one thing can awaken the conscience of woman, and that is
being found out.
GERALD.
I am speaking of innocent women.
COLONEL.
I never met one.
GERALD.
Yet----
COLONEL.
Tut, tut, sir; read your Bible. Who was it had the first bite at the
apple? And she's been nibbling at it ever since!
GERALD.
Well, well, uncle, you don't often come to see me; so we won't argue.
Can I prevail on you to stay to tea?
COLONEL.
To stay to _what,_ sir?
GERALD.
Tea. At five o'clock, I have a few friends coming. Mrs.
Sylvester--[_SYLVESTER puts down photograph and turns_]--Miss
Bethune--Miss Vivash----
SYLVESTER.
And Dr. Mary Bevan?
GERALD.
Yes, I expect Miss Bevan.
COLONEL.
"Naked and Unashamed?"
GERALD.
They may bring Percy with them.
COLONEL.
Percy?
GERALD.
Percy Pettigrew.
COLONEL.
A man? An actual man? A bull amongst that china?
SYLVESTER.
Well, hardly!
COLONEL.
You know him, Sylvester?
SYLVESTER.
They bring him to our house.
GERALD.
Nobody has done more for the Advancement of Woman.
SYLVESTER.
By making a public exhibition of the Decay of Man.
GERALD.
Sylvester, you're a Philistine. I won't ask you to stay.
SYLVESTER.
Man the Betrayer might be dangerous, amongst such foolish virgins.
COLONEL.
The danger would be all the other way. I am not sorry _I_ shall have
protection. My sister, Caroline, will be here at five.
GERALD.
Aunt Caroline! [_A little nervously._]
COLONEL.
I came to announce her visit.
SYLVESTER.
Lady Wargrave has returned to England?
COLONEL.
After ten years' absence. She has been travelling for her health,
which was never too robust; and since Sir Oriel's death, she has been
more or less a wanderer.
GERALD.
I knew she had arrived, but I postponed presenting myself till I was
summoned. My aunt has the kindest of hearts----
COLONEL.
A heart of gold, sir.
GERALD.
And a pocket too. Nobody knows that better than I do. Since my
parents' death, she has been father and mother, as well as aunt, to
me. But there was always something about aunt that made one keep one's
distance.
COLONEL [_in a milder voice than he has yet used_].
And there is still, Gerald.
GERALD.
Then I'm glad I've kept mine.
COLONEL.
You acted very wisely; I happen to know she wished her arrival kept
secret and to descend upon you like a _dea ex machinâ._ Caroline
always had a sense of dramatic effect. But how the deuce did you know
of her return?
GERALD.
Oh, very simply. Margery told me.
COLONEL.
Margery!
GERALD.
Aunt wrote to summon her to resume her duties.
COLONEL.
But Margery's at Mapledurham. Caroline was stopping with some friends
in Paris, and Margery was sent on to her father's.
GERALD.
Six weeks ago.
COLONEL.
Why, you know all about it.
GERALD.
Yes, I was staying there when she arrived. I have been rusticating for
the last six weeks. It's so much easier to write in the fresh air.
SYLVESTER.
You have been writing down at Mapledurham?
GERALD.
That's what I went for.
COLONEL.
For six weeks?
GERALD.
Six weeks.
COLONEL.
And you have only finished the first chapter?
GERALD.
It's so difficult to write in the fresh air. One wants to go out and
enjoy oneself. And then old Armstrong's such a jolly old boy.
SYLVESTER.
Armstrong, of Mapledurham? The farmer? Oh, I know him well. I go there
for the fishing.
COLONEL.
Then, do you know Margery?
SYLVESTER.
Margery? No.
GERALD.
How that girl sculls!
COLONEL.
Oh, Margery was rowing?
GERALD.
Do you know, uncle, she can almost beat me?
COLONEL.
But what an arm she has!
GERALD.
And when she feathers?----
[_Pantomime._
COLONEL.
Ah! when she feathers?----
[_Double pantomime._
GERALD.
What a voice, too!
COLONEL.
Hasn't she!
GERALD.
So musical! When she sings out, "Lock, ho!"
COLONEL [_imitating_].
"Lock, ho!"
GERALD.
No, not a bit like that--more silvery!
COLONEL.
Not a bit! more silvery!
BOTH [_pantomiming_].
"Lock, ho!"
SYLVESTER.
Who's Margery?
COLONEL.
Oh, my dear fellow, just your sort--_my_ sort--well, hang it, every
man's sort! Margery is--oh, how can I explain? If I'd seen a Margery
thirty years ago; well, I should never have been a bachelor! Margery
is--come, Gerald, what _is_ Margery? Margery is a woman, who---- Well,
Margery's a woman! That's all Margery is!
GERALD.
Old Armstrong's daughter. We grew up together. When I was very young,
I was considered delicate, and I was sent to the farmhouse at
Mapledurham. When I went to Eton, Lady Wargrave took Margery into her
service. There she has remained----
COLONEL.
And she is coming with your aunt to-day.
[_Knock at door in flat. Re-enter WELLS, followed by MRS. SYLVESTER,
with a small portfolio._
WELLS.
Mrs. Sylvester!
[_Exit, door in flat._
MRS. SYLVESTER [_stops short on seeing SYLVESTER._].
Jack!
SYLVESTER.
This is an unexpected pleasure. [_A cold matrimonial kiss._] Colonel
Cazenove--my old Colonel. Mr. Cazenove I think you know.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Well, of course, Jack! How ridiculous you are! Should I be here if I
didn't know Mr. Cazenove?
SYLVESTER.
I haven't the least notion. I only know you wouldn't be at home.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
I was in all the morning.
SYLVESTER.
I had business at the Horse Guards. I shall be home to dinner, though.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Oh dear, I wish I had known that. There's only mutton.
SYLVESTER.
The same mutton?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
What do you mean by same?
SYLVESTER.
I mean the mutton I had yesterday.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Did you have mutton yesterday?
SYLVESTER.
No matter; I'll dine at the club.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Thank you, dear.
SYLVESTER.
Good-bye. [_Kiss._] Good-bye, Mr. Cazenove.
COLONEL.
I will come with you. [_To GERALD._] I am due at your aunt's.
GERALD.
But I shall see you again presently?
COLONEL.
If I am visible behind Caroline. Madam, your servant. [_Aside to
SYLVESTER._] Cheer up, Sylvester! I'll join you at the club, and we
will wind the night up at the Empire.
[_Exit after SYLVESTER, R. of flat._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
That is so like a man! Doesn't say he's coming home, and then expects
six courses and a savoury!
GERALD.
There is a difference between cold mutton and six courses, to say
nothing of the savoury.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
It is a fine distinction, and in no way affects the validity of my
argument.
GERALD [_smiling_].
You mean, of your statement.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Husbands are all alike. The ancient regarded his wife as a slave, the
modern regards her as a cook.
GERALD.
Then they are _not_ alike.
MRS. SYLVESTER [_emphatically_].
A man thinks of nothing but his stomach.
GERALD.
That is another proposition.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
You're very argumentative to-day. I haven't seen you for six weeks,
and you've come home in a nasty, horrid temper!
GERALD.
I have been working so hard.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Why is your face so brown?
GERALD.
Well, of course, I went out.
MRS. SYLVESTER [_takes his hand_].
And why are your hands blistered?
GERALD.
I had a few pulls on the river; and being out of training----
MRS. SYLVESTER [_innocently_].
Were you stroke?
[_Holding his hands._
GERALD.
Not always.
[_Bites his lip._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
On, then you weren't alone?
GERALD.
I met an old friend up the river.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Now I understand why you didn't write to me.
[_Drops his hand and turns away pettishly._
GERALD.
About the book? [_She gives him a quick glance._] Oh, I had nothing to
say, except that I was getting on all right. I've written the first
chapter.
[_Produces MS._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
And I've written the last. [_Opening portfolio._] Connoting the
results of our arguments.
GERALD.
But where are the arguments?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
We'll put those in afterwards. [_GERALD looks at her._] That's how
Victoria always writes her novels. She begins at the end.
GERALD.
But this is a work of philosophy.
MRS. SYLVESTER [_pouting_].
Oh, you _are_ disagreeable!
GERALD [_putting MS. aside_].
Don't let us talk philosophy to-day. I want to talk to you about
something else.
MRS. SYLVESTER [_cheerfully_].
Yes!
GERALD.
I have something to tell you.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Interesting?
[_Smiling._
GERALD.
I'm in love.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Oh!
[_From this point her manner changes._
GERALD.
Yes, in love, Mrs. Sylvester--in real love.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
What do you call real love?
GERALD.
Something quite different from what we had supposed. We've been on the
wrong tack altogether. We have imagined something we have labelled
love; we have put it into a crucible, and reduced it to its elements.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
And we have found those elements to be, community of interest and
sympathy of soul.
GERALD.
But unfortunately for our theory, the thing we put into the crucible
wasn't love at all.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
How do you know?
GERALD.
I didn't, till last week.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
It was at Mapledurham you made this discovery?
GERALD.
At Mapledurham.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
And your friend?
GERALD.
She was the revelation.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
I thought it was a woman.
GERALD.
That word just describes her. She is a woman--nothing more or less.
Away went all my theories into air. My precious wisdom was stripped
bare before me, and in its nakedness I saw my folly. Not with
laborious thought; but in one vivid flash I learned more than I ever
learned at Oxford.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Really?
GERALD.
A woman! that is what one wants--that's all. Birth, brains,
accomplishments--pshaw! vanities! community of interest--sympathy of
soul? mere dialectics! That's not love.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
What _is_, then?
GERALD.
It defies analysis. You can't put love into a crucible. You only know
that there is something empty in you; and you don't know what fills
it; but that's love. There's no mistake about the real thing.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Is she good-looking?
GERARD.
In _my_ eyes.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
A lady?
GERALD.
In social station, beneath me. But what's social station?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
This is infatuation. Some riverside coquette----
GERALD.
Simplicity itself.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Of course you think so; but you don't know women. The simple woman
hasn't yet been born. This isn't love, Mr. Cazenove. This is the
temporary victory of the baser side of your nature. The true alliance
is the union of souls.
GERALD.
Of man and woman.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
But of soul and soul; not a mere sensual temptation.
GERALD.
Nor is this. A week ago I thought so. I know better now.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Happily the weeks are not all over yet. In a few more you will have
forgotten her as completely as she will have forgotten _you._
GERALD.
In a few more, I hope that she will be my wife.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
You contemplate a _mésalliance?_
GERALD.
There is no _mésalliance_ where there's love.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
You, of whom everyone expects so much, to throw away your
opportunities, and to begin your life hindered and hampered by a
foolish marriage.
GERALD.
If she will only marry me.
MRS. SYLVESTER [_looks at him, pained_].
I may still be your friend?
[_Offers him her hands, which he takes a little reluctantly._
_Re-enter WELLS._
WELLS.
Lady Wargrave.
[_Exit._
_Enter LADY WARGRAVE leaning on the COLONEL'S arm. She walks with a
crutch-stick, and is followed by MARGERY, who carries a cushion. MRS.
SYLVESTER retires up, so that she is not immediately seen by LADY
WARGRAVE._
GERALD [_a little tentatively_].
My dear aunt!
[_They shake hands._
LADY WARGRAVE.
You may kiss me.
[_He kisses her, then casts a glance of gratitude at MARGERY.
Meanwhile MARGERY has prepared a chair for her, into which she is
placed by GERALD and the COLONEL, who is now subdued and deferential,
in marked contrast to his last scene. MARGERY takes up her position in
the background._
COLONEL.
I was so fortunate as to meet the carriage.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Theodore was late as usual.
COLONEL.
Only ten minutes, Caroline; but, as you know, time, tide, and your
aunt wait for no man.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Now, Gerald, let me look at you. Your face to the light, please.
[_GERALD stands for inspection. She takes a long look through her
eye-glass._] I don't like that necktie.
GERALD [_smiling and bowing_].
It shall be changed to-morrow, aunt.
LADY WARGRAVE.
To-day. [_GERALD bows. She takes another look._] That will do, Gerald.
[_GERALD salutes. She drops her glasses._
COLONEL.
Stand at ease! Dismiss!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Theodore, this is not a barracks!
COLONEL.
True. [_Bows._] Peccavi!
LADY WARGRAVE [_addressing GERALD_].
I need hardly say with what pleasure I have followed your career at
Oxford. It is worthy of a Cazenove.
COLONEL.
Brilliant--magnificent!
LADY WARGRAVE.
It is worthy of a Cazenove; that is all.
[_COLONEL subsides, bowing._
GERALD.
Yes, aunt, I flatter myself----
LADY WARGRAVE.
Don't do that. You did your duty. Nothing more.
GERALD.
By the way, did you receive my poem?
LADY WARGRAVE.
Poem?
GERALD.
That won the Newdigate. I sent you a copy--to Rome.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Ah, I remember; I received the document. Tell me, were there many
competitors?
GERALD.
A dozen or so.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Is it possible that Oxford can produce eleven worse poems than yours?
GERALD.
My dear aunt!
[_COLONEL turns aside, chuckling, and finds himself face to face with
MARGERY, laughing; both become suddenly serious._
MRS. SYLVESTER [_advancing_].
It is a work of genius--none but a true poet----
LADY WARGRAVE [_half rising. MARGERY steps forward to help her_].
I ask your pardon. Gerald, you haven't introduced me!
GERALD.
Forgive me, Mrs. Sylvester--forgive me, aunt, but in the excitement of
seeing you----
LADY WARGRAVE.
Sylvester!
COLONEL.
Wife of my old lieutenant. Captain now.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Wife of Jack Sylvester! I am pleased to meet you. I have known your
husband almost from a boy. But I don't see him.
[_Looking round._
GERALD [_confused_].
He has just gone.
[_LADY WARGRAVE looks from one to another. Slight pause._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Mr. Cazenove and I are collaborating.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Oh! Captain Sylvester's wife is collaborating with _you?_
GERALD.
On the ethics of marriage.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Viewed from the standpoint of the higher morality.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Ah! [_Drops back into her seat, helped by MARGERY._] That will be a
very interesting work.[_MARGERY retires up._] Did you do very much
down at Mapledurham?
GERALD.
Not _very_ much, I'm afraid.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Mr. Cazenove met a friend up the river.
LADY WARGRAVE.
A friend? Margery, you didn't tell me that.
MARGERY [_advancing, and with a slight curtsey_].
I didn't know, my lady.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
An old friend.
COLONEL.
Perhaps the old friend was Margery herself?
MRS. SYLVESTER [_perplexed and curious_].
Your maid was at Mapledurham?
LADY WARGRAVE.
Her father lives there. Theodore, don't you think Margery looks all
the better for her holiday?
COLONEL [_with enthusiasm_].
If it is possible----
LADY WARGRAVE.
Theodore! [_Aside to him, stopping his mouth with her fan._]
COLONEL [_subsides_].
Peccavi! [_Sotto voce._]
LADY WARGRAVE.
Doesn't she look brown?
GERALD.
Well, up the river everybody does. It was hot weather, too.
LADY WARGRAVE.
It must have been. You should have seen her hands. They were all over
blisters.
COLONEL.
Ah, that was the rowing!
[_Pantomime as before._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Margery! [_MARGERY casts down her eyes._] You were rowing?
MARGERY.
Sometimes, my lady.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Stroke. [_Looking at GERALD._]
[_LADY WARGRAVE, watching MRS. SYLVESTER, motions to MARGERY, who
retires up._
COLONEL [_aside to LADY WARGRAVE_].
Caroline, you took the water very neatly.
LADY WARGRAVE [_aside to COLONEL_].
The higher morality has caught a crab.
MRS. SYLVESTER [_gathers up MS. into her portfolio_]_._
I will not trespass any longer, Mr. Cazenove. No doubt, your aunt has
much to say to you.
GERALD.
But won't you stay to tea?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Thanks. Captain Sylvester dines early.
COLONEL [_aside_].
At the club!
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Good day to you, Lady Wargrave. [_LADY WARGRAVE is about to rise._]
Pray don't rise. [_Bows to the COLONEL and goes to door in flat where
GERALD is waiting for her._] Don't trouble; I know my way.
[_Exit._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Poor Sylvester! He was such a nice boy! [_GERALD comes down._] Gerald,
can Margery wait in the next room?
[_GERALD opens door R. Exit MARGERY R._
GERALD [_returning_].
And how have you been, aunt? You never mentioned your health in your
letters. Are you better?
LADY WARGRAVE.
I mustn't complain; but Providence is really most unjust. Here am I,
who have lived a life of temperance, in my old age----
COLONEL.
Middle age, Caroline!
[_Bowing._
LADY WARGRAVE [_smiling_].
A chronic invalid; while this old transgressor who has denied himself
nothing [_COLONEL grins_], and committed every sin in the Decalogue
[_COLONEL chuckles_], is as hale and as hearty as I am infirm.
COLONEL.
Never felt better, never!
LADY WARGRAVE.
But how have _you_ been, Gerald? _We_ belong to the past----
COLONEL.
Caroline!
LADY WARGRAVE.
_You_ belong to the future, and the future belongs to you.
GERALD.
Oh, I've been all right!
[_A little recklessly._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Quite sure you suffer from nothing?
GERALD.
What do you mean?
LADY WARGRAVE.
Your letters have told me a great deal--more than perhaps you know;
but I have read them very carefully; and when you asked me to come
home----
GERALD.
I didn't, aunt.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Between the lines.
GERALD [_laughing_].
What did I say to you between the lines?
[_Kneeling by her._
LADY WARGRAVE.
You told me that you had learned everything Oxford has to teach worth
learning, and that you were in danger of becoming--well [_laying her
hand on his head_]--shall we say, _tête montée?_
COLONEL.
Yes, Caroline! I should certainly say, _tête montée._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Cure yourself, Gerald. Knowledge is not wisdom [_stroking his head_].
Forgive me, dear; but I have known so many men who have never survived
the distinctions of their youth, who are always at Oxford, and even in
their manhood play with rattles. Now, forget Oxford--go into the
world--lay books aside, and study men.
COLONEL.
_And_ women.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Yes--and _women._
[_Knock without._
GERALD [_rising_].
Just what I'm doing!
[_Female voices in altercation. Re-enter WELLS, door in flat._
WELLS.
Miss Bethune, Miss Vivash.
_Enter ENID and VICTORIA, in hot argument. They take opposite sides of
the stage and continue the discussion without taking the slightest
notice of anybody. LADY WARGRAVE looks from the one to the other in
amazement. Exit WELLS, door in flat._
ENID.
I can't agree with you! Say what you will, I can't agree with you!
VICTORIA.
That doesn't alter the fact. A woman has just as much right to a
latchkey as a man.
ENID.
But a man has no right to a latchkey.
VICTORIA.
That's ridiculous!
ENID.
Rudeness is not argument!
VICTORIA.
Why make distinctions?
ENID.
I make no distinctions. I admit that a woman has just as much right to
come home with the milk as a man: but I say, a man has no right to
come home with the milk; and I say more--no woman who respects herself
has any _desire_ to come home with the milk!
VICTORIA.
Bother the milk! It isn't a question of milk. It's a question of
making artificial distinctions between the sexes.
ENID.
I say that there ought to be _no_ distinction! Why should a man be
allowed to commit sins----
VICTORIA.
And woman not be given an opportunity?
ENID.
Then do you _want_ to commit sins?
VICTORIA.
I want to be allowed to do as _men_ do.
ENID.
Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself; there!
VICTORIA.
I only say, I ought to be allowed.
ENID.
And _I_ say that a man, reeking with infamy, ought not to be allowed
to marry a pure girl----
VICTORIA.
Certainly not! _She_ ought to reek with infamy as well.
ENID.
Victoria!
[_Knock without._
VICTORIA.
What is the difference between man and woman?
ENID.
There is _no_ difference!
_Re-enter WELLS, door in flat._
WELLS.
Dr. Mary Bevan.
[_Exit WELLS._
_Enter DR. MARY BEVAN._
VICTORIA.
Why should a woman have children and a man have none?
ENID.
But a man _has_ children!
DOCTOR.
Only vicariously.
VICTORIA.
Here's Dr. Mary!
[_Rushing up to DOCTOR. ENID has rushed up to the other side of her._
DOCTOR [_pragmatically_].
But I am not without hope that, when the attention of science is
directed to the unequal incidence of the burden of maternity, some
method of re-adjustment may be devised.
LADY WARGRAVE [_who has risen_].
Pardon me, ladies; but if you are about to consult your physician, you
would no doubt prefer to be alone.
[_They turn and see her for the first time._
VICTORIA.
Pray, don't move.
GERALD.
My aunt, Lady Wargrave. Colonel Cazenove.
DOCTOR.
These matters are best discussed openly. A morbid modesty has too long
closed our eyes. But the day of awakening has come. Sylvester, in her
"Aspirations after a Higher Morality," Bethune, in her "Man, the
Betrayer," Vivash, in her "Foolish Virgins," have postulated the
sexual problem from every conceivable point of view; and I have myself
contributed to the discussion a modest little treatise----
ENID.
No, no, not modest!
VICTORIA.
Profound!
DOCTOR.
"Naked and Unashamed!"
ENID.
Man has done all the talking up to now----
VICTORIA.
He has had things all his own way----
DOCTOR.
And a nice mess he's made of them!
ENID.
Now it is our turn.
VICTORIA.
We mean to put things right!
DOCTOR.
Man has departed. Woman has arrived.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Excuse my ignorance, but I have been away from England for so many
years. Can this be the New Woman I have read about?
COLONEL.
Everything's New nowadays! We have a New Art----
ENID.
A New Journalism----
VICTORIA.
A New Political Economy----
DOCTOR.
A New Morality----
COLONEL.
A New Sex!
LADY WARGRAVE [_smiling_].
Ah!
DOCTOR.
Do you object to modernity?
LADY WARGRAVE.
I've only one objection to new things; they are so old.
VICTORIA.
Not the New Woman!
LADY WARGRAVE.
No; _she_ is generally middle-aged.
[_COLONEL turns to GERALD, to hide his chuckles._
ENID.
Then, do you take Man's part in the discussion?
LADY WARGRAVE.
I take no part in it.
DOCTOR.
Do you deny that Woman has arrived, Man has departed?
LADY WARGRAVE.
I don't wonder at it. But Man has an awkward habit of coming back
again.
TRIO.
Never!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Then Woman will go after him.
[_COLONEL roars out aloud--the Women survey him with disgust._
_Re-enter WELLS, L., and whispers to GERALD._
GERALD.
Tea is quite ready, ladies!
ENID.
Ah! a cup of tea!
[_Exit L., followed by VICTORIA, DOCTOR MARY and WELLS._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Theodore, your arm. These ladies interest me. Besides, they sadly want
a chaperone.
COLONEL.
They want a husband--that's what _they_ want, badly!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Gerald, call Margery. [_GERALD goes to door R._] Well, they are
looking for one.
[_Glancing after GERALD._
COLONEL.
And they've found _you,_ Caroline.
[_Exeunt both, laughing, L. Each time the door, L., is opened, a babel
of female voices is heard from within, and such phrases as "Peter
Robinson's," "Swan and Edgar's," "Stagg and Mantle's," are distinctly
audible above the clink of teacups, etc._
_Re-enter MARGERY, R.; she goes straight to LADY WARGRAVE'S chair, and
is about to carry the cushion into the room, L., when GERALD, who has
stood back, watching her, advances._
GERALD.
Margery! [_MARGERY drops the cushion and turns._] Thank you! God bless
you!
MARGERY.
For what, sir?
GERALD.
You have not told my aunt.
MARGERY.
Of course I haven't told her! [_Slight pause._] May I go?
GERALD.
Not yet. Margery, can you ever forgive me?
MARGERY.
For being a man? Oh yes!
GERALD.
Can you ever respect me again?
MARGERY.
I do respect you, sir.
GERALD.
Not as I do you, Margery. You don't know what you did for me that day.
If you had rounded on me, I should not have cared--but to be
silent--to do nothing--to forgive me!
MARGERY.
I had a reason for forgiving you.
GERALD.
What?
MARGERY.
That's my business.
GERALD.
But, Margery, you do forgive me?
MARGERY.
Don't let's talk about it.
GERALD.
_Really_ forgive me?
MARGERY.
Really!
GERALD.
Prove it to me.
MARGERY.
How can I?
GERALD [_still holding her_].
Be my wife!
MARGERY [_recoiling_].
Mr. Cazenove!
GERALD.
My name is Gerald.
MARGERY.
Mr. Gerald!
GERALD.
Gerald! Call me so, Margery.
MARGERY.
I couldn't, sir. Don't ask me!
GERALD.
Then you refuse me? [_MARGERY is silent--he turns away._] Well, I
don't deserve you.
MARGERY [_approaching him._]
Oh, don't think I mean that! Do you suppose you are the only man
that's ever made love to me? It's a man's business to make love; and
it's a woman's business to stop him--when he makes love too hard. But
if we can't be lovers, Mr. Gerald, we can be friends.
GERALD.
It's got past friendship with me, Margery. Since I came back to town,
everything's changed. My pursuits all feel so empty and so
meaningless; every woman I meet seems different from what she was: and
oh, how different from _you!_
MARGERY.
Gentry _are_ different. We're different breeds. That's why we can't be
lovers.
GERALD.
We can be man and wife!
MARGERY.
Isn't that being lovers?
GERALD.
In my case, it would be!
MARGERY.
Hush! Mr. Gerald, that's impossible. My lady will be asking for me.
Let me go!
GERALD.
Not till I've told you how I love you, Margery. Seeing you again is
breathing the pure air. It seems a younger and a sweeter world, now
you have come again. Nothing else matters. All my life beside appears
a folly and a waste of time. My real life was lived with you down
yonder, out in the fields, and rambling through the woods and
listening to the music of the weir. The life that we began together so
pleasantly, cannot we live together to the end? I was quite honest
when I said I loved you. And couldn't you love _me,_--just a little
bit?
MARGERY.
You oughtn't to ask that!
GERALD.
I mean to have an answer.
MARGERY.
Please, Mr. Gerald, don't! It makes it very hard for me----
GERALD.
Answer me! Could you love me, Margery?
MARGERY.
Oh, what's the use of asking? You only want to make me tell a lie.
GERALD.
Answer me!
MARGERY.
I _have_ answered you!
GERALD.
Margery, then you do!
MARGERY.
That is what made it easy to forgive you. Now let me go.
GERALD.
Not till you've said that you will be my wife.
MARGERY.
Oh, Mr. Gerald.
GERALD.
Gerald! say Gerald!
MARGERY.
It's no use. I can't!
GERALD.
Say you will marry me!
MARGERY.
If you will let me call you "Mr. Gerald."
[_Embrace._
COLONEL [_off, opens door L._].
Margery! where are you?
_Re-enter L., just as MARGERY is withdrawing from GERALD'S arms,
stands thunderstruck. Exit MARGERY, L._
GERALD.
It's all right, uncle.
COLONEL.
All right, you call it? Look here, you young cub! None of your higher
morality with Margery!
GERALD.
I tell you, it's all right. Margery's going to be your niece--my wife.
COLONEL.
Margery, your wife! [_Slight pause._] You're a damned lucky dog!
GERALD.
That I am, uncle!
COLONEL.
'Gad, sir, you're a man; and I thought you were a monkey. I
congratulate you!
GERALD [_shaking hands_].
_You_ don't object then?
COLONEL.
I thought a Cazenove would come right side up.
GERALD.
But what will aunt say?
COLONEL [_suddenly collapses_].
I was forgetting Caroline!
GERALD.
She must be told.
COLONEL.
But cautiously. Courage! I'll back you up!
GERALD.
I'll tell her now!
COLONEL.
Stay! Don't do anything rash! I wouldn't risk a private interview.
Safety in numbers.
GERALD.
I will tell them all!
COLONEL.
Sht! what a bomb-shell! Courage!
GERALD.
Courage, yourself! You're shaking all over.
COLONEL.
No matter. I'll stand by you!
LADY WARGRAVE [_opening door, L._].
Gerald!
COLONEL.
Form square! Prepare to receive cavalry!
[_Retires up._
_Re-enter LADY WARGRAVE, L._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Where are you? Why have you deserted me? To leave me at the mercy of
that crew! My poor, dear, Gerald! however did you get into this set?
GERALD.
It was my poem did it.
LADY WARGRAVE.
I thought, that crime would bring its punishment. Now, they're upon
the marriage service! As though _that_ concerned them! Gerald, if you
marry any of that tribe, you'll really break my heart!
[_COLONEL comes down R. of GERALD._
GERALD.
I hope I shall never do that!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Marry a _woman,_ whatever else she is.
COLONEL [_aside to GERALD_].
Courage!
GERALD.
Or isn't, aunt!
[_Effusively._
COLONEL [_aside to GERALD_].
Caution!
[_Retires up._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Or isn't!
_The door L. is thrown open, and re-enter DR. MARY, ENID, and
VICTORIA, all talking, followed by MARGERY, who takes up her original
position at the back._
DOCTOR.
"Obey," forsooth!
VICTORIA.
To promise to love is ridiculous, for how can one control the
mysterious expansions of the heart?
DOCTOR.
It is the brain that loves. A still more complicated mechanism.
ENID.
It is impossible to honour a man who has invariably lived a revolting,
ante-nuptial life----
VICTORIA.
But to "obey!"
[_COLONEL works down stage, interested._
DOCTOR.
Lady Wargrave, even _you_ surely wouldn't promise to "obey" a man?
LADY WARGRAVE.
Not till he asked me, certainly.
COLONEL.
Ha! ha!
[_The trio turn on him; he retires up._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Gerald, I must be going.
DOCTOR.
So must I.
ENID.
And I.
DOCTOR.
I have a clinical lecture----
VICTORIA.
I have an engagement.
GERALD.
One moment, ladies! Stay one moment, aunt! Before you go I want to
tell you all of _my_ engagement.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Your engagement, Gerald?
GERALD.
Yes, I am going to be married.
[_Pause._
ENID [_with jealousy_].
To Agnes Syl--? Oh, I forgot; she's married.
LADY WARGRAVE.
To whom?
[_All stand expectantly._
GERALD.
To Margery.
[_All stand transfixed. Exit COLONEL, door in flat._
DOCTOR.
Mr. Cazenove, I offer you my congratulations. Having a clinical
lecture to deliver, you will excuse me if I say good afternoon.
ENID.
Wait for me, Doctor. [_Exit DR. MARY, door in flat._] You have my best
wishes.
[_Exit, door in flat._
VICTORIA.
And thank you for the plot of my next novel.
[_Exit, door in flat._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Gerald, is this a trick?
GERALD.
No, aunt; it is the truth.
LADY WARGRAVE.
And you, a Cazenove! It is out of the question! I won't permit it! I
forbid it, Gerald!
GERALD.
But, my dear aunt, you said only just now----
LADY WARGRAVE.
No matter!
GERALD.
Marry a woman----
LADY WARGRAVE.
Don't repeat my words! A Cazenove marry Margery! Ridiculous!
GERALD.
But, aunt----
LADY WARGRAVE.
Silence! You said just now, you hoped that you would never break my
heart. Well, Gerald, you have broken it. A Cazenove!
[_Exit, door in flat. MARGERY takes up the cushion, and is about to
follow._
GERALD.
Put that thing down. [_She puts it down._] You are mine now; not hers.
MARGERY.
Yes, Mr. Gerald.
GERALD [_sits, drawing her to him_].
For better, for worse, Margery.
MARGERY.
For better, for worse.
GERALD.
You are not frightened?
MARGERY.
Not now, Mr. Gerald.
GERALD.
Then call me, Gerald.
MARGERY.
Gerald!
[_Dropping on her knee by his side._
GERALD.
_You_'re not afraid to make those promises!
MARGERY.
No, Gerald!
GERALD.
To love--to honour.
MARGERY.
And obey!
[_Looking up at him._
ACT II.
_Twelve months have elapsed._
SCENE.--_Study at GERALD'S opening upon a little boudoir, through
curtains which are drawn across part of the stage at back. Doors, R.,
and L.U.E. Mantelpiece, between doors, R._
_GERALD discovered, seated at a writing table, with his back to the
curtains, writing busily. MARGERY'S head appears through the curtains,
which she holds closely round it, so that only her face is visible.
She watches GERALD for a few moments, with a broad smile on her face._
MARGERY.
Bo!
[_Withdraws her head._
GERALD [_starts and looks round_].
Margery, of course!
[_Resumes his writing. A peal of laughter behind the curtains, and
MARGERY'S head reappears, laughing. GERALD throws down his pen._
MARGERY [_running in_].
Did I startle you?
GERALD.
Not much; I'm getting used to it.
MARGERY.
Well, don't be cross!
GERALD.
I'm not cross, dear; but these repeated interludes make composition
rather difficult.
MARGERY.
Oh, bother! you've been all the morning at that stupid book, and I'm
so happy, I can't help it. Kiss me, and say that you forgive me!
GERALD.
Of course I forgive you!
MARGERY.
Kiss me, then!
GERALD.
My dear----
MARGERY.
Gerald! will you kiss me?
GERALD [_kisses her_].
How many times does that make?
MARGERY.
Only three this morning. You used to like kissing me.
GERALD.
Yes, dear, but----
MARGERY.
What?
GERALD.
This isn't writing my book.
MARGERY.
No, but it's being happy, and that's worth all the books that ever
were written.
GERALD.
Yes--being happy--that's the great thing.
[_Sighs._
MARGERY.
Why do you sigh?
GERALD.
Did I sigh?
[_Smiling._
MARGERY.
Yes.
GERALD.
I didn't know I sighed. Writing's hard work.
MARGERY.
Then put the book away! [_Thrusts the MS. aside._] I've such news for
you!
GERALD.
News?
MARGERY.
Such good news. Guess what it is. I'll give you three tries.
GERALD [_deprecatingly_].
Margery!
MARGERY.
You'll never guess!
GERALD.
Then what's the use of trying?
MARGERY.
Because I want you to guess wrong.
GERALD.
I shan't do that!
MARGERY.
You will! I'm sure you will!
GERALD.
I'm sure I shan't, because I am not going to guess at all.
MARGERY [_grimaces_].
Cross again! You'd better not be, or you know the penalty!
GERALD.
Come! what is the good news?
MARGERY.
That's the good news.
[_Gives him a card._
GERALD [_with real pleasure_].
Margery!
MARGERY [_pouting_].
You might have guessed!
GERALD.
A card from Lady Wargrave! And addressed to you!
MARGERY.
Asking us to a party at her house.
GERALD.
Don't say a party, Margery!
MARGERY.
Well, isn't it a party?
GERALD.
Call it an At Home.
MARGERY.
Oh, that's another lesson! Never call things by their right names,
it's vulgar!
GERALD.
This is an olive-branch, and no mistake! So aunt is thawing at last.
MARGERY.
Stop a bit, Gerald!
GERALD.
Wait a moment, Margery!
MARGERY.
Is that another lesson? Never use one syllable when two will do? Very
well, Gerald, I'll remember that. But what do you mean by
olive-branch?
GERALD [_looks at her, and sighs again_].
Oh, never mind!
MARGERY.
Yes, tell me. I want to make sure as I go along.
GERALD.
An overture--a sign of reconciliation--like holding out your hand.
MARGERY.
Ah, now I understand! But what a funny thing to call it--olive-branch!
[_Bursts into a peal of laughter._
GERALD [_shivers slightly and goes over to the mantelpiece. Aside_].
It didn't sound like that in Mapledurham! [_Conquering himself,
returns to her._] I'm so glad aunt's come round. You don't know how
it's worried me--her estrangement.
MARGERY.
They've all come round now. They've all recognized me. Oh, I'm so
happy, Gerald! It isn't half as hard to be a lady as I thought!
GERALD [_thoughtfully_].
Of course you'll have to answer this!
MARGERY.
Of course!
GERALD.
Show me the answer when you've written it!
MARGERY.
Oh, I shan't spell it wrong!
GERALD.
No, dear, but----
MARGERY.
I know what you mean. I might use all short words instead of long
ones. [_GERALD laughs._] Don't be afraid: I'll pick the longest in the
dictionary. [_Kisses him._] Ah, Gerald, dear! short words were good
enough for you once!
[_Archly._
GERALD.
I dare say.
MARGERY.
Yes; when you said, "I love you, Margery!" Say it again!
GERALD.
Margery, what nonsense!
MARGERY.
That's what I like--nonsense. Say it again!
GERALD [_with effort_].
I love you, Margery. [_Sits, and resumes his pen._] Now, let me get on
with my work!
MARGERY [_goes L. Aside_]
Somehow it didn't sound like that in Mapledurham. [_Brightly._] Well,
I suppose his head's full of his book. I wish mine was of mine. Oh,
those French verbs! and what's the use of them? Why isn't English good
enough for England?
_Enter WELLS, L._
WELLS.
Captain Sylvester.
[_GERALD flings down his pen in despair. Exit WELLS, L._
_Enter SYLVESTER._
MARGERY.
Ah, I'm so glad you've come! [_Crosses to him._] I wanted somebody to
talk to. Gerald's so busy!
[_Takes SYLVESTER'S hat and stick._
SYLVESTER.
Busy? then I'm afraid I intrude.
GERALD [_resignedly_].
Oh, not at all! [_Sees MARGERY at back, who has put SYLVESTER'S hat
on, very much askew, and is marching up and down with the stick under
her arm._] Good gracious, Margery!
[_MARGERY laughs. SYLVESTER laughs. GERALD goes up, snatches the hat
and stick, and turns to put them down._
MARGERY.
Cross again! [_As GERALD turns again, he finds himself face to face
with her, holding her mouth out._] Penalty!
GERALD.
It is for Captain Sylvester to forgive you.
SYLVESTER.
Anything. Mrs. Cazenove can do no wrong. [_Bows. MARGERY curtseys._]
But where's Agnes? Happening to pass this way, I thought I might
perhaps give her a lift home.
MARGERY.
Oh! Gerald expects Mrs. Sylvester----
GERALD.
Later on, later on!
SYLVESTER.
Then may I wait for her?
GERALD.
Oh, certainly! [_Taking up MSS._] If you'll excuse me going on with my
work. I've been a good deal interrupted.
[_Goes to door, R._
SYLVESTER.
By all means, if I may talk to Mrs. Cazenove!
[_GERALD bows stiffly and exit, R., watched by MARGERY, who makes a
grimace to audience._
MARGERY.
I believe Gerald's jealous!
SYLVESTER [_laughing_].
Of _me?_
MARGERY [_laughs_].
Just fancy anyone being jealous of _you!_ [_Laughs loudly, then stops
suddenly._] Hush! I forgot! We mustn't make so much noise. Clever
people don't like noise.
SYLVESTER.
Music is noise to some people. I like it!
MARGERY.
Ah, but then you're not clever!
SYLVESTER [_laughing_].
I'm afraid not!
MARGERY.
There's a pair of us!
SYLVESTER.
And what a pleasure it is to meet somebody who's not clever. Mrs.
Cazenove, I think cleverness is the most boring thing in the world.
This planet would be quite a pleasant place but for the clever people.
MARGERY.
Do you mean my husband?
SYLVESTER.
I was thinking of my wife; she's one of them. I'm not. I'm only Mrs.
Sylvester's husband.
MARGERY.
Are you sure you're that?
SYLVESTER.
I have always been under that impression.
MARGERY.
A husband who isn't master of his wife isn't half a husband.
SYLVESTER.
I am content to be a fraction!
MARGERY.
But you're a cipher.
SYLVESTER.
You're frank, Mrs. Cazenove.
MARGERY.
I only say to your face what everybody says behind your back.
SYLVESTER.
What do they say?
MARGERY.
That Mrs. Sylvester's too much alone.
SYLVESTER.
Never. She's always with your husband!
MARGERY.
Well?
SYLVESTER.
As long as _you_ don't object----
MARGERY.
Object? Not I! But that's a very different thing!
SYLVESTER.
How so?
MARGERY.
I am my husband's wife, and I am not afraid of any woman in the world.
SYLVESTER.
You have no need to be. [_With admiration._] And in your pre-eminence
resides my safety, Margery.
MARGERY.
I'm not Margery now!
SYLVESTER [_seriously_].
I ask Mrs. Cazenove's pardon. [_In a casual tone_] You don't object to
the collaboration, then?
MARGERY.
I think it's fun! They are so serious over it. As if the world
depended on a book! As if there were no Providence or anything, and
they two had to keep creation going by scratching upon little bits of
paper! I love to watch them, biting at their pens, and staring at that
little crack up there. [_Looking at the ceiling. SYLVESTER looks
also._] I often think to myself, you may well look--there's something
there that'll keep the world going round, just as it is, long after
your precious book is dust and ashes.
SYLVESTER.
Then you do watch them, Margery--Mrs. Cazenove?
MARGERY.
Oh, often, from my room. [_Indicates curtains._] But I can scarcely
keep from laughing all the time. Some day I mean to have such fun with
them! I mean to steal in here, [_business_] and put my head out,
so--and just when they are putting the world right, say Bo!
[_Runs back, and bursts into a peal of laughter. SYLVESTER laughs
also._
_Re-enter WELLS, L._
WELLS.
Miss Vivash!
[_Exit WELLS, L._
_Enter VICTORIA._
VICTORIA.
Good morning, dear. [_Kisses MARGERY._] What! Captain Sylvester! you
here, and Agnes not?
MARGERY.
Mrs. Sylvester is coming!
VICTORIA.
No need to apologize! A wife is just as much entitled to entertain
another woman's husband as a husband to entertain another man's wife.
You're getting on, dear. That's philosophy!
MARGERY.
Gerald is in the next room!
VICTORIA.
Then it's not philosophy!
MARGERY.
I'll go and wake him up.
[_Exit, R._
VICTORIA.
Humph! [_Sits._] Well, how long do you give it?
SYLVESTER.
Do you mean philosophy?
VICTORIA.
The Cazenove _ménage._ Another six months? These love-matches are
honeymoon affairs. When once that's over, there's an end of
everything.
SYLVESTER.
But is it over?
VICTORIA.
Everybody's talking. Cazenove is bored to death.
SYLVESTER.
I don't think his wife is.
VICTORIA.
Ah, that will come in time; and when it does, I mean to take Margery
in hand. She is neglected shamefully. _She_ hasn't discovered it yet,
but all her friends have.
SYLVESTER.
They're generally first in the field.
VICTORIA.
If a husband ignores his wife, the wife is entitled to ignore her
husband. What would a man do under the same circumstances?
SYLVESTER.
Is not the question rather, what a man _ought_ to do?
VICTORIA.
That is Utopian. We must take the world as we find it.
SYLVESTER.
I'm afraid Mrs. Cazenove won't be an apt pupil.
VICTORIA.
No spirit--no proper pride. But things can't go on as they're going
long. Margery is on the edge of a volcano. I give it six months.
SYLVESTER.
Is it as bad as that?
VICTORIA.
Never at home--and when he is--"in the next room." Never takes her
anywhere, and I don't wonder at it. Margery is too _gauche_ for
anything. But what could be expected, when a man throws himself away
in that manner? Bless me, there were other women in the world!
SYLVESTER.
Oh, plenty, plenty.
VICTORIA.
Unluckily, he's found that out. [_Aside._] That's one for _him!_
SYLVESTER.
Indeed!
VICTORIA [_gives him a glance of contempt, and produces a cigarette
case_].
Do you mind tobacco?
SYLVESTER.
Not at all. I like it.
_Re-enter MARGERY, R._
If Mrs. Cazenove----
MARGERY.
Gerald's so busy, will you please excuse him?
VICTORIA.
Certainly. Will you join me?
[_Offers case._
MARGERY.
Thank you, I can't smoke.
VICTORIA.
Then you should learn at once.
[_Puts a cigarette in her mouth._
Could you oblige me with a light? [_SYLVESTER strikes a match._]
Thanks.
[_Lights up at the wrong end of a gold-tipped cigarette. MARGERY
stands, arms akimbo, surveying her._
MARGERY.
Do you like smoking?
VICTORIA.
No, but I smoke on principle!
SYLVESTER.
On the wrong principle!
VICTORIA.
I beg your pardon. Men smoke cigarettes.
SYLVESTER.
Yes, but they light them at the other end.
[_VICTORIA takes the cigarette out of her mouth and looks at it.
MARGERY and SYLVESTER burst out laughing. She throws it away
viciously._
_Re-enter WELLS, L._
WELLS.
Miss Bethune.
[_Exit WELLS, L._
_Enter ENID._
ENID.
How are you, dear? [_Kisses_ Margery.] Victoria!
[_Goes to_ Victoria, who presents her cheek.
SYLVESTER [_to MARGERY_].
Now you have company, I'll say good-day. I've waited for my wife quite
long enough!
MARGERY [_with outstretched hand_].
But you will come and see me again soon?
[_ENID and VICTORIA exchange glances._
SYLVESTER [_holding her hand, and in a lower voice_].
Shall you be in to-morrow?
MARGERY [_frankly_].
Yes. [_SYLVESTER smiles and presses her hand; she sees her mistake._]
If Gerald is.
[_ENID and VICTORIA are exchanging whispers._
SYLVESTER [_drops her hand; aside_].
Women are like Bradshaw--a guide and a puzzle!
[_Exit, L._
ENID.
Does Captain Sylvester often call, my dear?
MARGERY.
He has done lately.
ENID.
Quite a change for him! He must occasionally meet his wife!
VICTORIA [_who has gone to the mantelpiece for a match_].
Now that that man has gone----
[_Lights another cigarette._
ENID.
Victoria!
VICTORIA [_offering case to MARGERY_].
Can't I prevail on you?
MARGERY [_takes one_].
Well, I don't mind trying.
[_Lights hers from VICTORIA'S, VICTORIA putting the case on the
table._
ENID.
How _can_ you, Margery? I call it shocking! To take a nasty,
evil-smelling thing like this [_taking a cigarette out of VICTORIA'S
case_]--and put it to your lips--brrh! [_Shudders, but puts it in her
mouth. MARGERY presses her burning cigarette against it till it is
alight._] Don't, Margery, don't! I call it horrid--most unladylike!
MARGERY.
Now puff!
[_All three sit and puff vigorously. MARGERY perched on table._
VICTORIA.
Well, dear, and how are you getting on?
MARGERY.
Oh, famously!
ENID.
I hope you've taken my advice to heart!
VICTORIA.
And mine! Have you a latch-key yet?
MARGERY.
Oh, yes!
ENID.
Margery, you shock me!
MARGERY.
Well, you're easily shocked!
VICTORIA.
You have a latch-key?
[_Triumphantly._
MARGERY [_simply_].
Yes, we have a latch-key!
BOTH [_in different tones_].
_We?_
MARGERY.
What would Gerald do without one?
VICTORIA [_with contempt_].
Gerald!
MARGERY.
When he comes home late.
ENID.
_Does_ he come home late?
VICTORIA.
All men do!
ENID.
_Before_ marriage. Would that were _all_ they did. [_Mysteriously._]
Has he told you everything?
MARGERY.
He's told me everything I've asked him.
VICTORIA [_with curiosity, putting down cigarette_].
What have you asked him?
MARGERY.
Nothing!
ENID.
Margery! [_rises_] it's such women as you on whom men prey!
[_Turns off._
VICTORIA [_rises_].
And it's such men as him that women marry!
[_Turns off._
MARGERY.
When they get the chance! [_Grimace at audience._
_Re-enter WELLS, L._
WELLS.
Colonel Cazenove.
[_ENID hides her cigarette behind her back; MARGERY flings hers away,
jumps down and runs to meet him. Exit WELLS, L._
_Enter COLONEL._
MARGERY.
Uncle!
[_Flings her arms round his neck, and gives him three smacking kisses.
COLONEL smiles all over his face. ENID and VICTORIA exchange shrugs._
COLONEL.
Bless me! what a smell of tobacco! [_Looks about, sniffing, sees
VICTORIA._] Ah, the foolish--beg pardon!--Miss Vivash! [_Bow._] Dear
me, something burning!
[_Sniffs. VICTORIA sits again._
ENID [_confused_].
Yes, Mr. Cazenove--the next room
COLONEL [_seeing her_].
Man the Be---- Miss Bethune, I think?
[_Holds out his hand. ENID has to change the cigarette into her left
hand behind her back; shakes hands, then turns to wipe the nicotine
from her lips, unconsciously presenting the turning cigarette to
COLONEL'S eyeglass. MARGERY laughs. COLONEL grins at audience._
COLONEL.
I thought something was burning. [_ENID throws cigarette into the
grate, and covers her face. COLONEL lifts his finger._] And you said
Mr. Cazenove!
ENID.
Well, it wasn't a story. He _is_ in the next room.
COLONEL.
So man has not a monopoly of the vices!
ENID.
We're none of us perfect!
COLONEL.
No, [_rubbing his hands_] thank Heaven! It's the spice of the old Adam
that makes life endurable!
MARGERY [_again embracing him_].
Oh, I'm so happy, uncle!
ENID [_aside_].
Wish she wouldn't do that!
MARGERY.
Oh, so happy!
COLONEL.
So am I, Margery. What did I always say? Caroline's a heart of gold. I
knew she would come round. I always said I'd stand by you and Gerald.
MARGERY.
Uncle!
COLONEL.
I always said so!
MARGERY.
You ran away!
COLONEL.
Yes, but I said so. Then you have got her card?
MARGERY [_nodding her head_].
Yes!
[_Jumps up and gives him another kiss._
ENID [_aside, jealously_].
I do wish she wouldn't!
COLONEL.
My doing, Margery--my doing!
ENID.
I have a card as well!
COLONEL.
My doing, Miss Bethune!
ENID.
I've just been ordering my gown!
COLONEL [_gallantly_].
I trust it will be worthy of the wearer.
[_Bows. ENID smiles._
MARGERY.
Have you a card, Miss Vivash?
VICTORIA [_who has sat very quietly, now rises_].
If you'll excuse me, dear, I'll say good-morning!
MARGERY [_shakes hands_].
Must you go?
[_Exit VICTORIA, L._
MARGERY.
Excuse _me,_ uncle. Gerald doesn't know you're here!
[_Exit, R._
COLONEL.
Miss Vivash?
ENID.
Don't trouble, Colonel! She resents an escort. I have no patience with
Victoria. Trying to be a man!
COLONEL.
And making only a _succès d'estime!_
ENID.
I like a woman to be womanly!
COLONEL [_aside_].
The best of 'em.
ENID.
I don't mean weak--like Agnes. She goes to the other extreme. Do you
know, I'm getting very anxious about Agnes!
COLONEL.
Mrs. Sylvester?
ENID.
Haven't you noticed anything? Of course not! You men never do!
COLONEL.
I am afraid I must plead guilty!
ENID.
Haven't you observed how much she and your nephew are together?
COLONEL.
But they're collaborating.
ENID.
Ah, Colonel, when a man collaborates with a woman, a third person
ought always to be present.
COLONEL.
To protect the man?
ENID [_tapping him, playfully_].
You are incorrigible!
COLONEL [_cheerfully_].
I always was, and at my age reformation is out of the question!
ENID.
Oh, you are not so old as all that!
COLONEL.
Guess.
ENID.
Fifty!
COLONEL [_pleased_].
Add six to it!
ENID.
Six!
COLONEL [_aside_].
She might add eight.
ENID.
I don't believe it, Colonel.
COLONEL [_aside_].
_Quite_ the best of 'em! [_Sits._] So you have appointed yourself the
third person?
ENID.
It's time someone did.
COLONEL.
A sort of Vigilance Committee, eh?
ENID.
I simply take the interest of a friend in Agnes.
COLONEL.
And what is the result of your observations?
ENID.
I have come to a terrible conclusion.
COLONEL.
You alarm me!
ENID.
That she is a poor, tempted creature.
COLONEL.
Bless me! I never regarded her in that light before. I thought the
boot was on the other leg. [_Corrects himself hurriedly._]
Foot!--foot! [_Indicating ENID'S, which she is carefully showing;
aside._] Very neat foot she has!
ENID.
Men always stand by one another, so should women. Agnes must be
protected against herself!
COLONEL.
Then it's herself, after all? I thought you meant my nephew.
ENID.
So I do. She is the moth--he is the candle.
COLONEL.
Really!----
ENID.
Oh, you men, you men! You're all alike--at least, I won't say all!
COLONEL.
Say all, say all! It really doesn't matter!
ENID.
No, no, I won't say all!
COLONEL.
You say so in your book!
ENID [_pleased_].
You've read my book?
COLONEL [_evading the question_].
"Man, the Betrayer?"
ENID.
Well, you know, Colonel, one has to paint with a broad brush.
[_Pantomime._
COLONEL.
Yes, when one paints with tar! [_Aside._] Very nice arm, too!
[_Aloud._] Look at your title!
ENID.
"Man, the Betrayer!"
COLONEL [_aside_].
Don't know any more!
ENID.
A mere figure of speech!
COLONEL [_admiring her_].
Figure?
ENID.
Mere figure!
COLONEL.
Damned fine figure, too!
[_To himself, but aloud._
ENID.
Colonel!
COLONEL.
Ten thousand pardons! I was thinking of something else. Pray forgive
my bad language!
ENID.
Oh, I'm used to it! Victoria's is much worse!
COLONEL.
Miss Vivash!
ENID.
Vulgar-minded thing! Learned French on purpose to read Zola's novels.
I don't suppose that even _you_ have read them.
COLONEL.
Oh, haven't I? Every one!
ENID.
I don't believe it, Colonel!
COLONEL.
I'm a shocking old sinner! I never professed to be anything else!
ENID.
I simply don't believe it! You men exaggerate so! You make yourselves
out to be so much worse than you are. Whereas we women pretend to be
so much better. That's the worst of us! We are such hypocrites! Oh, if
you knew as much about women as _I_ do----
COLONEL [_aside, much interested_].
Now I'm going to hear something. [_Meanwhile MARGERY has crept in, R.,
behind them. She flings her handkerchief over the COLONEL'S eyes, and
ties it in a knot behind his head, then skips away from him. Rising._]
You rascal! It's that Margery! I know it is! Where are you? [_Groping
about, MARGERY evading him, and in shrieks of laughter._] Margery, if
I catch you!
MARGERY.
But you can't!
[_ENID has risen to evade the COLONEL, who is groping all over the
room--a sort of blind man's buff--all laughing._
COLONEL [_seizing ENID_].
I've got you!
[_Kisses her. ENID shrieks. MARGERY roars. COLONEL tears off the
handkerchief and stands aghast._
_Re-enter WELLS, L._
WELLS.
Lady Wargrave.
[_Sudden silence. Exit COLONEL, R. ENID runs out, C., in confusion._
_Enter LADY WARGRAVE, L., and comes down._
[_Exit WELLS, L. ENID re-appears C., and runs across stage behind LADY
WARGRAVE, and off, L. MARGERY stands confused, not knowing how to
greet LADY WARGRAVE._
LADY WARGRAVE [_putting out both hands_].
Margery! [_Holding both MARGERY'S hands_].
MARGERY.
Oh, Lady Wargrave!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Aunt. I've called to make amends to you.
MARGERY.
Amends?
LADY WARGRAVE.
For my neglect. [_Kisses her._] Forgive me, Margery, but your marriage
was a shock to me. However, I've got over it. Perhaps, after all,
Gerald has chosen wisely!
MARGERY.
Thank you for your kind words. I knew you had got over it.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Of course! you had my card.
MARGERY.
I knew from uncle, too. How good of him to bring it all about!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Theodore!
MARGERY.
I mean, to reconcile you!
LADY WARGRAVE.
My dear Margery, your uncle has never presumed to mention the subject?
MARGERY.
Oh, what a story he has told us! he said it was _his_ doing.
LADY WARGRAVE.
No doubt. When you know Theodore as well as I do, you will have learnt
what value to attach to his observations!
MARGERY.
Won't I pay him out?
[_Shaking her fist._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Never mind your uncle. Tell me about yourself--and about Gerald. I
hope your marriage has turned out a happy one.
MARGERY.
Yes--we're as happy as the day is long.
LADY WARGRAVE.
That is good news. Then you haven't found your new position difficult?
MARGERY.
Oh, I'm quite used to it! I'm not a bit shy now. Of course I put my
foot in it--I make mistakes sometimes; but even born ladies sometimes
make mistakes.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Yes, Margery. [_Bending her head slightly._] And Gerald?
MARGERY.
Is the best husband in the world to me. Of course, he's very busy----
LADY WARGRAVE.
Busy?
MARGERY.
With his book; and sometimes I can't help annoying him. That's
nothing. We haven't had a real cross word yet.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Does he write very much?
MARGERY.
Oh, morning, noon, and night. He's always got a pen in his hand. I
often say I wonder he doesn't wear the ceiling out with looking at it.
[_Laughs._
LADY WARGRAVE.
That isn't writing, Margery.
MARGERY.
No, but it's thinking--and he's always thinking.
[_Falls into a reverie._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Do you go out much?
MARGERY.
We went out a good deal at first, but we got tired of it. I like home
best; at any rate, Gerald does. I rather liked going out. Oh, I'm
quite a success in society.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Indeed?
MARGERY.
Of course, aunt, I'm not clever; but I suppose I'm witty without
knowing it!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Witty?
MARGERY.
At any rate, I make the people laugh. Isn't that being witty? Then _I_
laugh as well, although I don't know what I'm laughing at, I'm sure!
[_Laughs._] Oh, everybody laughs at me--but Gerald. And he's thinking
of his book!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Do you have many visitors?
MARGERY.
Oh, yes! Miss Vivash--Miss Bethune--Dr. Mary--Mrs. Sylvester--and
uncle. They're often coming. As for Mrs. Sylvester, she almost lives
here!--oh, and Captain Sylvester, he's taken to calling lately!
LADY WARGRAVE.
In future, dear, you'll have another visitor. I see I have neglected
you too long. And you must come and see me. We'll go out together.
MARGERY.
Oh, that _will_ be nice! Then you have _quite_ forgiven me?
LADY WARGRAVE.
But not myself!
MARGERY [_embracing her_].
Oh, why is everyone so good to me?
_Re-enter GERALD, R., followed by COLONEL._
GERALD.
Aunt, this is kind of you! but you were always kind.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Not always. I ought to have paid this visit earlier. I made a mistake,
Gerald, and I have come to acknowledge it.
COLONEL [_laying his hand on LADY WARGRAVE'S shoulder in an access of
enthusiasm_].
Caroline, you're a trump!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Theodore!
COLONEL.
No other word for it! I always said you'd come round!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Never!
COLONEL.
Always!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Theodore, you _never_ said so!
COLONEL.
To myself.
[_Turns off._
GERALD.
Better late than never, aunt. And thank you for the card for your At
Home.
[_Talks to LADY WARGRAVE._
MARGERY.
Oh, uncle, you're a shocking old story, aren't you?
COLONEL.
What have I been saying now?
MARGERY.
You said it was _your_ doing!
COLONEL.
So it was!
MARGERY.
Aunt vows you'd nothing to do with it at all!
COLONEL [_taking MARGERY aside_].
Caroline's a heart of gold; but your aunt must be managing! So I let
her manage, and I manage _her._
MARGERY.
You?
[_Smiling._
COLONEL.
But I do it quietly. I influence her, without her knowing it. Sheer
force of character. Chut! not a word! [_Backing away from her,
signalling silence; backs into LADY WARGRAVE._] Ten thousand pardons!
[_Bows profusely._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Really, Theodore!
[_MARGERY goes up, stifling her laughter; he shakes his handkerchief
at her._
_Re-enter WELLS, L._
WELLS.
Mrs. Sylvester!
_Enter MRS. SYLVESTER; she hesitates, on seeing LADY WARGRAVE. Exit
WELLS, L._
GERALD.
Pray come in, Mrs. Sylvester. You know my aunt.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
I think we've met before.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Yes, at my nephew's chambers. I remember perfectly. You were engaged
upon some work or other.
GERALD.
It's not finished yet. I am so interrupted!
[_Glancing at MARGERY who has crept down behind COLONEL._
MARGERY [_whispering in COLONEL'S ear_].
Who kissed Miss Bethune?
[_COLONEL starts guiltily; MARGERY roars._
GERALD [_angrily_].
Margery!
[_MARGERY runs out, L._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Not finished yet!
MRS. SYLVESTER.
But we have made great progress.
LADY WARGRAVE.
And are you satisfied with what you have done?
GERALD.
It is certainly interesting.
LADY WARGRAVE.
It is not enough for me that a work of my nephew's should be
interesting! Tell me, as far as you have gone, do you think it is
worthy of a Cazenove?
GERALD.
It is the work of my life.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
And of mine!
LADY WARGRAVE.
As far as you have gone. But what is to be the end of it?
GERALD.
Ah, we've not got there yet.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Would you admit a third collaborateur?
MRS. SYLVESTER [_alarmed_].
Who?
LADY WARGRAVE.
An _old_ woman.
GERALD.
Lady Wargrave's joking!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Oh, I could put an end to it, I think!
MRS. SYLVESTER.
We don't know what the end will be ourselves.
LADY WARGRAVE.
There I have the advantage. If I can help in any way, my experience is
always at your service. Meanwhile, I fear I am another interruption.
Theodore, your arm!
GERALD [_follows them to door, L._].
Thank you so much for coming.
[_Holding his hand out._
LADY WARGRAVE [_taking it_].
And for going?
[_Exit with COLONEL, L._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
What does she mean?
GERALD.
Thank her for going?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
And the end of it?
GERALD.
Aunt always talks in riddles!
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Is it a riddle?
GERALD [_avoids her eyes_].
Come, let us get to work. I've done hardly anything today. It's first
one interruption, then another.
[_Sits._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
We should be quieter at our house.
GERALD.
There's your husband!
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Always a husband!
GERALD.
Or a wife. Ah, me!
[_Sits with his head between his hands, staring at vacancy; MRS.
SYLVESTER watching him sympathetically._
MRS. SYLVESTER [_comes and kneels by him_].
Gerald! [_He starts slightly._] You are not happy. You have realized
the truth.
GERALD.
What truth?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Your marriage was a mistake from the beginning.
GERALD.
Not from the beginning. It started right enough, but somehow it has
taken the wrong turn.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
It was wrong from the first. Mine was the true ideal. The thing that
you thought love was a mere passion--an intoxication. Now you have
come back to your better self you feel the need of sympathy.
GERALD.
No, no; my love was real enough, and I love Margery still; but love
doesn't seem to bear the wear and tear of marriage--the hourly
friction--the continual jar.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
There is no friction in true marriage, Gerald. You say you love your
wife, and it is good and loyal of you to deceive yourself; but you
can't deceive me. Haven't I made the same mistake myself? I was a
thoughtless, inexperienced girl, Jack was a handsome, easy-going man.
We married, and for a year or two we jogged along. But I grew up--the
girl became a woman. I read, I thought, I felt; my life enlarged. Jack
never reads, never thinks--he is just the same. [_Rising._] I am not
unhappy, but my soul is starved--[_goes to mantelpiece and stands
looking at him_]--as yours is!
[_Pause. MARGERY'S face appears between the curtains at the back,
wearing a broad smile. She grimaces at them, unobserved, and remains
there; then looks at GERALD with a long face of mock sympathy._
GERALD.
Well, we must make the best of it!
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Yes, but what _is_ the best? [_MARGERY grimaces at her._] Is our
mistake so hopeless, irremediable? After all, is not true loyalty
loyalty to oneself?
GERALD [_looks at her_].
You think so?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Or what becomes of our philosophy?
GERALD.
Yes, what becomes of it?
[_Another pause. MARGERY laughs almost audibly. During the next
passage the laugh subsides into an expression of perplexity._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
What is a promise when the heart's gone out of it?
GERALD.
Surely it is a promise.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
To an empty phrase must one sacrifice one's life? Must one stake
everything on the judgment of one's youth? By the decision of a moment
must one be bound for ever? Must one go through the world "with quiet
eyes unfaithful to the truth?" Does one not owe a duty to oneself?
There can be but one answer!
GERALD [_absently_].
Margery! [_MARGERY winces as if struck--quite serious now. Then with
energy._] But, Agnes, Margery is impossible! She's no companion to me!
I am all alone! Her very laughter grates upon me! There's no meaning
in it! It is the laughter of a tomboy, of a clown! And she will never
learn! She's hopeless, Agnes, hopeless! [_MARGERY drops back
horror-struck, but her face disappears only by degrees. MRS. SYLVESTER
lays her hand on him. Another pause. The curtains close._] What is one
to do? [_Rising._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
We are face to face with the problem! Let us confront it boldly.
Gerald, do you love me?
[_A thud behind the curtains. GERALD starts guiltily. Pause. They
stand looking at one another._
GERALD [_in a whisper_].
What was that? [_Goes up cautiously and draws curtains back,
discovering MARGERY stretched senseless on the floor._] Margery!
ACT III.
_A Fortnight Later._
SCENE.--_Drawing-room at LADY WARGRAVE'S. Main entrance C.,
Conservatory R. Entrance, L., to an inner room. Fireplace, R., up
stage, near which is LADY WARGRAVE'S chair, with the cushion of Act
I._
_The stage is discovered half-filled with Guests, who stand and sit in
groups, including COLONEL, CAPTAIN and MRS. SYLVESTER, and GERALD.
LADY WARGRAVE is receiving her guests. A buzz of general conversation;
and a band is heard playing in the inner room, loudly at first, but
softly after the picture is discovered._
SERVANT [_at entrance C._].
Miss Vivash and Mr. Pettigrew!
_Enter VICTORIA, followed leisurely by PERCY, a very young man who is
always smiling to himself, unconsciously._
VICTORIA [_going straight to LADY WARGRAVE and grasping her hand_].
Good evening, Lady Wargrave, I have taken the liberty of bringing a
friend whose name is no doubt known to you--Mr. Percy Pettigrew.
[_PERCY bows distantly, smiling._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Pettigrew, did you say?
PERCY.
Percy _Bysshe_ Pettigrew.
[_Smiling._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Of course! _two_ of your names are _quite_ well known to me; it is
only the surname that is unfamiliar.
PERCY [_smiling_].
Pettigrew!
[_Turns off._
GERALD.
One of my Oxford friends.
LADY WARGRAVE [_aside to him_].
One of those who are always at Oxford?
VICTORIA.
His "Supercilia" are quoted everywhere.
LADY WARGRAVE.
His----?
GERALD.
A column Percy does for "The Corset."
VICTORIA.
A newspaper devoted to our cause.
GERALD.
"The Corset" is Percy's organ.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Ah, his rattle!
SERVANT.
Dr. Bevan.
DR. BEVAN [_shakes hands with LADY WARGRAVE_].
I hope I am not late; but I was detained at the hospital. Most
interesting case, unhappily unfit for publication.
SERVANT.
Miss Bethune.
[_Exit SERVANT._
Enter ENID.
COLONEL [_to SYLVESTER_].
The best of 'em! [_ENID shakes hands with LADY WARGRAVE._] Ah, what a
pity, what a pity, Sylvester!
SYLVESTER.
What is a pity, Colonel?
COLONEL.
That such a figure should be wasted!
SYLVESTER [_in a matter of course voice_].
I prefer Mrs. Cazenove's.
[_Turns off. COLONEL eyes him curiously. The other Guests should be so
arranged that each man is surrounded by a little group of women._
PERCY [_the centre of one group, lolling lazily, always smiling with
self-complacency, suddenly sits up and shivers_].
No, no! don't mention it. It bores me so.
[_Shivers._
CHORUS.
And me!
[_All shiver._
VICTORIA.
The stage has ever been Woman's greatest foe.
GUEST.
For centuries it has shirked the sexual problem.
SYLVESTER [_who has strolled up_].
But doesn't it show signs of repentance?
PERCY.
The theatre is dying.
SYLVESTER.
Death-bed repentance, then. That's the one problem it discusses.
GUEST.
It is the one problem in life.
PERCY.
The theatre is dying! Dixi!
[_Leans back again._
DOCTOR.
The novel will sweep everything before it.
SYLVESTER.
You mean, the female novel?
DOCTOR.
Nothing can stop it.
SYLVESTER.
No, it stops at nothing.
DOCTOR.
Nor will it, till the problem is solved. That solution, I venture to
predict, will be on the lines of pure mathematics.
SYLVESTER.
Really?
[_Smothering a yawn._
DOCTOR.
I put the proposition in this way. The sexes are parallel lines.
SYLVESTER.
Which are bound to meet.
DOCTOR.
I must not be taken to admit, that there is any physiological
necessity.
VOICES.
Certainly not.
DOCTOR [_to LADY WARGRAVE, who is passing_].
I am sure, Lady Wargrave must agree with us.
LADY WARGRAVE.
What is that, Doctor?
DOCTOR.
That there is no physiological necessity----
LADY WARGRAVE.
To discuss physiology? I am quite of your opinion.
[_Passes on._
ENID [_who is in a group surrounding COLONEL]._
That's where we differ. What is _your_ view, Colonel?
COLONEL.
My dear Miss Bethune, there is no occasion for Man to express _any_
view, when Woman expresses them all. First, you must reconcile your
internal differences.
VOICE.
But we can't.
COLONEL.
To begin with, you must make up your minds whether you wish to
regenerate us or to degrade yourselves.
ENID.
Regenerate you, of course.
COLONEL.
Miss Vivash prefers the alternative.
ENID.
That is Victoria's foible.
COLONEL [_gallantly_].
I can admit no foible in a lady.
ENID.
At any rate, we are agreed on the main point--the equality of the
sexes.
COLONEL.
That, alas, is impossible.
VOICE.
Impossible?
COLONEL.
Whilst Woman persists in remaining perfect.
VICTORIA.
Cannot Man emulate her?
COLONEL.
I am afraid his strength is only equal to the confession of his
unworthiness.
ENID.
You would confess that? Then you agree with me, that a woman is
entitled to know the whole of a man's past?
LADY WARGRAVE [_who has joined them_].
Would it not be more useful if she knew something of his future?
ENID.
Women have futures; men have only pasts.
DOCTOR [_still in SYLVESTER'S group_].
It stands to reason--pure reason--there ought not to be one law for
women and another for men.
SYLVESTER.
You mean, that they ought both to be for women?
DOCTOR.
I mean, that the institution of marriage is in urgent need of
reconsideration.
SYLVESTER.
The sooner, the better.
DOCTOR.
I am glad you think so.
SYLVESTER.
When the institution of marriage is reconsidered, man will have
another chance.
[_Exit, R._
LADY WARGRAVE [_who has joined PERCY'S group_].
What do I think of the New Woman? There is no New Woman; she is as old
as Molière.
[_Stands listening, amused._
CHORUS.
Molière!
VICTORIA.
A pagan!
PERCY.
A frank pagan. For pure art we must go to Athens.
CHORUS.
Athens!
PERCY.
Or the Music Halls. Have you seen Trixy Blinko?
CHORUS.
Trixy--oh, charming--sweet!
PERCY.
In her alone I find the true Greek spirit. What were the prevailing
characteristics of Hellenic culture? [_A sudden silence._] Breadth and
centrality, blitheness and repose. All these I find in Trixy.
CHORUS.
Little dear!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Somewhat _risquée,_ isn't she?
PERCY.
To the suburban mind.
[_LADY WARGRAVE bows and turns off._
_SERVANT enters, L._
SERVANT.
Signor Labinski has arrived, your ladyship.
[_Exit, L. LADY WARGRAVE speaks to one or two of the Guests, and the
company disperse, most of them going off, L., but a few, C., and
others into the conservatory. During this general movement, the music
off, is heard louder. COLONEL is left with DR. MARY._
COLONEL.
Nonsense, my dear Doctor---- The fact's just this. The modern woman is
prostrated by the discovery of her own superiority; and she is now
engaged in one of those hopeless enterprises which _we_ have
regretfully abandoned. She is endeavouring to understand _herself._ I
offer her my respectful sympathy.
[_Bows and sits, C._
DOCTOR [_sits by him_].
The truth amounts to this: the one mitigating circumstance about the
existence of Man is, that he occasionally co-operates in the creation
of a Woman.
COLONEL.
His proudest privilege! The mystery to me is, that you ladies haven't
found it out before.
_Re-enter ENID, C._
DOCTOR.
Yes, but you shirk the question!
[_COLONEL is fanning himself, helplessly._
ENID [_aside_].
A man in distress! I must help him! [_Advancing sweetly._] What were
you saying, Doctor?
[_Sits on the other side of COLONEL._
COLONEL [_aside_].
Bethune! the best of 'em!
DOCTOR.
You know, from your own experience, that marriage is not a necessity.
COLONEL.
No, it's a luxury--an expensive luxury.
ENID.
Oh, surely that depends upon the wife.
DOCTOR.
It is she who has to associate with him.
ENID.
And considering what his past has been----
COLONEL.
Suppose it hasn't!
DOCTOR.
But it always has!
ENID.
I should be sorry to think that.
DOCTOR.
Take the Colonel's own case.
COLONEL [_alarmed_].
Doctor!
DOCTOR.
Do you deny that you have had a past?
COLONEL.
Oh, a few trifling peccadilloes!
ENID.
Then you must never marry.
COLONEL.
Am I to have no chance of reformation?
ENID.
It is your own fault.
DOCTOR.
Entirely.
COLONEL.
One moment, my dear ladies! Excuse me pointing out, that, in the last
resort, there must always be a female accomplice!
ENID.
Poor, tempted creature!
COLONEL.
_Tempted_ by a _man!_
DOCTOR.
We all have our weak moments.
[_Sighs._
ENID.
All of us!
[_Sighs. As the pair sit with their eyes cast down, silent, COLONEL
looks from one to the other in dismay, then steals off, R._
COLONEL [_at door_].
Getting dangerous!
[_Exit, R. When they look up, each with a languorous glance, they find
themselves languishing at one another; both rise._
ENID [_putting her arm round DOCTOR'S waist_].
My dear, we are missing the music!
[_Exeunt, L._
_Re-enter MRS. SYLVESTER and GERALD, C. Movement of other Guests
across stage, during music._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Where have you been? I have seen nothing of you. What have you been
doing?
GERALD.
Thinking.
MRS. SYLVESTER [_jealously_].
Of whom?
GERALD.
Of Margery.
[_Movement of MRS. SYLVESTER._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Has she said anything?
GERALD.
No, not a word.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Of course, she heard?
GERALD.
What did I say? What did I do? What must she think of me? I can't bear
this suspense. For the last fortnight, she's been another woman. So
grave--so thoughtful--so unlike herself. There is no laugh to grate
upon me now. What would I give to bring it back again?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Is it she only who has changed?
GERALD.
Ever since I saw that figure on the ground, I can see nothing else.
And it is I who brought it to the dust--I, who had sworn to cherish
it. Yes, you are right; I too am different; I see things from a
different point of view. And when I think of Margery's young life, so
full of hope and joy--Margery, who never asked to be my wife--Margery,
whom I compelled to marry me--with all the joy crushed out of her--I
feel too much ashamed even to ask forgiveness. And as I watch her move
about the house--silent and sorrowful--I ask myself, how much did
Margery give up for me? I took her from the station of life in which
she was born, and in which she was happy. I set her in another and a
strange one. Was mine the only sacrifice? How much of friendship and
of old association did she resign for my sake? My life continued as it
was before--I had my old friends and my old pursuits. What had she?
Nothing--but my love. And I took it away from her. Because she made a
few mistakes, and a few people laughed--a few more didn't call--and I
mistook a light heart for an empty head. What do all these things
matter? what is a man worth who sets such things above a love like
hers?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
This is pure pity, Gerald.
GERALD.
Pity for myself.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
She was no wife for you. She could be no companion.
GERALD.
If she was no companion, did I make her one?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Need you tell _me_ all this?
GERALD.
Yes, Mrs. Sylvester, it's best I should. I came to tell it you.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Not Agnes now!
GERALD.
Forget my folly, and forget your own.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Mine was no folly. I, at least, was sincere; the love that isn't based
on sympathy is a mere passion.
GERALD.
And the love that has no passion in it, isn't worth the name!
MRS. SYLVESTER.
That's your idea?
GERALD.
And what is yours? Let us be frank.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Oh, frankness, by all means.
GERALD.
Forgive me; but we're face to face with truth. Don't let us flinch
from it. We have both made the same mistake--not in our marriages, but
in despising them. What we want in a partner is what we lack in
ourselves. Not sympathy only, but sex. Strength requires gentleness,
sweetness asks for light; and all that is womanly in woman wants all
that is manly in man. You think your husband is no mate for you. What
I have missed in Margery, have you not missed in him?
MRS. SYLVESTER [_after a pause_].
I understand you. It is over.
GERALD.
It is for you to say. We have gone too far together for either of us
to turn back alone. I have not only made my own hearth desolate, but
yours. I owe you all the reparation I can make. I only want you to
know the truth. What is left of my life you may command, but my heart
is not mine to bestow.
MRS. SYLVESTER [_turns up, to hide her emotion, and tries to go into
the room, L., but half-way she falters and puts out her hand_].
Gerald!
[_He goes to her and offers her his arm. Exeunt GERALD and MRS.
SYLVESTER, L. Other Guests cross the stage. Enter MARGERY, C. Finding
herself opposite LADY WARGRAVE'S chair, takes a long look at it, then
moves the cushion, and gradually gets into her old position behind it.
Music heard off, softly, during this passage._
MARGERY.
Yes, this is how it ought to be. It looks a different world
altogether--the real world--the world, when Gerald loved me!
[_Comes down and sits, in a reverie._
_Re-enter SYLVESTER, R._
SYLVESTER.
Alone, Mrs. Cazenove? It isn't often that I find you alone. I've seen
nothing of you lately. You've always been out when I've called.
MARGERY.
I was in once.
SYLVESTER.
Only once.
MARGERY.
It was enough.
SYLVESTER.
You are cruel.
MARGERY.
Are you looking for your wife?
SYLVESTER [_laughs_].
Agnes and I go very different ways.
MARGERY.
I think you're going the same way, both of you.
SYLVESTER [_still laughing_].
But in opposite directions. Mrs. Cazenove, you're quite a philosopher.
Why have you grown so serious all at once?
MARGERY.
I'm older than I was.
SYLVESTER.
Only a fortnight since you were all vivacity.
MARGERY.
One can live a long time in a fortnight.
SYLVESTER.
I hope these ladies haven't converted you.
MARGERY.
Yes; I am a new woman.
SYLVESTER [_laughs_].
Your husband has been reading you his book!
MARGERY.
A good deal of it.
SYLVESTER.
What is it all about? If I am not too curious.
MARGERY.
It's about love.
SYLVESTER.
I thought it was about marriage.
MARGERY.
Aren't they the same thing? He says they are, and I agree with him.
And then he says [_half to herself_] that, when the love is gone, so
is the marriage--and I think he's right!
[_Loses herself in thought._
SYLVESTER [_gazes at her for some moments, then unable to restrain
himself_].
Ah, Margery! if Heaven had given me such a wife as you----
MARGERY [_rises_].
Heaven didn't, and there's an end of it.
SYLVESTER [_rises_].
Forgive me! how can I help admiring you?
MARGERY.
Can't you admire me without telling me? It's well to make the best of
what we have, instead of trying to make the worst of what we haven't.
SYLVESTER.
I must be silent!
MARGERY.
Or not talk in that way.
[_Moves away._
SYLVESTER [_following, in an outburst_].
Gerald doesn't love you [_movement of MARGERY_]--oh, you said that
just now! you mayn't know that you said it, but you did! My wife
doesn't love me--I don't love my wife--and yet I must say nothing.
MARGERY.
What's it to me that you don't love your wife?
SYLVESTER.
I love _you,_ Margery.
MARGERY.
I knew that was coming.
SYLVESTER.
Honestly love you! I admired you always. It was an empty admiration,
perhaps--the admiration a man feels for twenty women--but it grew
solid; and the more you repulsed me, the more you attracted me. You
mayn't believe me, but at first I _wanted_ you to repulse me; then it
got past that; and when I saw you sitting there alone--living over in
your mind your wasted life--I loved you, and the words sprang to my
lips. Nothing could keep them back! I love you, Margery--nobody but
you! Why should your life be wasted? Why should mine?
MARGERY.
Well, have you finished?
SYLVESTER [_seizing her_].
No!
MARGERY.
I can guess the rest. You say Gerald doesn't love me, you don't love
your wife, and your wife doesn't love _you;_ but you forget one
thing--that _I_ don't love you either.
SYLVESTER.
Not now, but by-and-by. Margery, I would make you love me--I would
teach you!
MARGERY.
So, I'm to _learn_ to be unfaithful, is that it? As one learns music?
No, Captain Sylvester! Suppose two people are so much in love that
they can't help it, Heaven is their judge, not me. But to _begin_ to
love when they _can_ help it--not to resist--to _teach_ themselves to
love--that's where the wrong is, and there's no gainsaying it.
SYLVESTER.
Suppose your husband left you?
MARGERY.
I would have no other!
SYLVESTER.
Why not?
_Re-enter GERALD, L._
MARGERY.
Because I love him, and I don't love you!
[_MARGERY'S back is towards GERALD, so that she doesn't see him; but
SYLVESTER is facing him and sees him._
GERALD [_coming down to MARGERY_].
What has he said?
MARGERY.
Nothing for your ears!
SYLVESTER.
Yes, for all the world's! I'll tell you!
MARGERY.
I forbid you! Leave me with my husband.
[_SYLVESTER hesitates a moment, then exit, C._
GERALD.
Margery, speak! I have a right to know.
MARGERY.
You have no right!
GERALD.
You will not tell me?
MARGERY.
No!
GERALD.
Then _he shall!_
[_Advances on her._
MARGERY.
Stand back! You shall not go!
GERALD.
What, you defend him?
MARGERY.
Against you, I do! Who are you to question him? Are your own hands
clean?
GERALD [_drops back as if struck_].
Margery!
MARGERY [_holding out her hand_].
Good-bye!
GERALD.
Good-bye?
MARGERY.
I'm going home.
GERALD.
To Mapledurham?
MARGERY.
We'll say good-bye now.
GERALD.
Here--Margery?
MARGERY.
You needn't be afraid. There'll be no scene; I've done with tears.
GERALD.
You're [_chokes_] going to leave me?
MARGERY.
Yes.
GERALD.
For a few days, you mean?
MARGERY.
I mean, for ever. Gerald, I've had enough of half a home and only half
a heart. I'm starving, withering, dying here with you! They love me
there! Let me go back to them! Oh, what a world it is! To think that
one can get the love of any man except the man one loves!
GERALD.
You have it, Margery!
MARGERY [_fiercely_].
I haven't.
GERALD.
If you only knew----
MARGERY.
I know I haven't! what's the use of words? Do you think a woman
doesn't know when she's not loved, or is? When you first said you
loved me, down in the fields yonder, do you suppose you took me by
surprise? You had no need to swear. I knew you loved me, just as
certainly as I know now you don't!
GERALD [_much moved_].
Oh, what a scoundrel I was, Margery!
MARGERY.
No man's a scoundrel to the woman he loves. Ah, it was easy to forgive
your loving me. But I'll do something that is not so easy. I will
forgive you for _not_ loving me. It's been a struggle. For the last
fortnight I haven't said a word, because I wasn't master of myself,
and I didn't want to speak till I'd forgiven you. I wasn't listening,
Gerald. Heaven knows I would have given all the world not to have
heard a word; but when you spoke my name, I couldn't move. The ground
seemed slipping underneath my feet, and all the happiness of all my
life went out of it in those three words, "Margery's hopeless,
hopeless!"
GERALD.
Don't! don't! you torture me!
MARGERY.
Yes, Margery _is_ hopeless. Every scrap of hope has gone out of her
heart. I heard no more. It was enough. There was the end of all the
world for me. [_GERALD groans._] But it was well I heard you. I should
have gone blundering along, in my old madcap way, and perhaps not
found it out till I had spoilt your life. It's well to know the truth;
but, Gerald dear, why didn't you tell it me instead of her? Why didn't
you tell me I was no companion? I would have gone away. But to pretend
you loved me, when you didn't--to let me go on thinking you were
happy, when all the time you were regretting your mistake--not to tell
_me,_ and to tell someone else--oh, it was cruel, when I loved you so!
GERALD.
How could I tell you, Margery?
MARGERY.
How could you tell _her?_ How could she listen to you? I forgive
_you,_ Gerald--I didn't at first, but now I understand that there are
times when one's heart is so sore, it must cry out to somebody. But
_she----_
GERALD.
It was my fault!
MARGERY.
You are mistaken there. It was your voice that spoke them, but the
words were hers. It's she who's robbed me of your love! It isn't I
who've lost it; she has stolen it!
GERALD.
No, no!
MARGERY.
Be careful, or she'll steal your honour too. Don't trust to her fine
phrases. She deceives herself. She wants your love, that's what that
woman wants: not to instruct the world--just to be happy--nothing more
or less; but she won't make you happy or herself. If I am no
companion, she's a bad one!
GERALD.
You wrong her, Margery--indeed, you do! _I_ was the culprit----
MARGERY.
Have some pity on me! Don't let the last words I shall hear you say be
words defending her! Think what she's done for me! Think how you loved
me when you married me--think what our two lives might have been, but
for her--think what mine _will_ be! for mine won't be like yours. Your
love is dead, and you will bury it, but mine's alive--alive!
[_Breaks down._
GERALD.
And so is mine!
MARGERY [_springs up_].
Don't soil your lips with lies! I've borne as much as I can bear. I
can't bear that!
GERALD.
If you will only listen----
MARGERY.
I have heard too much! Don't speak again, or you will make me hate
you! My mind's made up. I have no business here! You are above me. I'm
no wife for you! I'm dragging you down every day and hour.
GERALD.
Margery! you shall not go!
MARGERY [_flinging him off_].
To-night and now! Good-bye!
[_Rushes into conservatory, R._
GERALD.
What right have I to stop her?
[_Goes up, leans upon chair. Re-enter SYLVESTER, C._
SYLVESTER.
Now, Mr. Cazenove, I am at your service.
GERALD.
You are too late.
[_Exit, C._
SYLVESTER.
So, he won't speak to me. But I will make him. If he thinks I am
caught, like a rat in a trap, he's made a mistake. There'll be a
scandal--well, so much the better! Better that they should know the
truth all round.
_Re-enter MRS. SYLVESTER, L._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Ah, you are here! I've been looking for you everywhere.
SYLVESTER.
Looking for _me?_
MRS. SYLVESTER.
I want you to take me home.
SYLVESTER.
I've something to say to you. Sit down.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Not to-night. I'm tired.
SYLVESTER.
Yes, to-night. What I'm going to say may be everybody's property
to-morrow. I choose that you should know it now.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
I don't understand you.
SYLVESTER.
But you shall. I've often heard you say that a loveless marriage is no
marriage. Well, ours is loveless enough, isn't it?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
It has been.
SYLVESTER.
It is! I've never understood you; and if there was any good in me,
you've never taken the trouble to find it out.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
I can't bear this now.
SYLVESTER.
You must. Don't think I'm going to reproach you. I take all the blame
on myself. What if I were to tell you that you've made a convert to
your principles where you least expected it?
MRS. SYLVESTER.
What do you mean?
SYLVESTER.
That it's best for us both to put an end to this farce that we're
living. I mean, that I love another woman.
MRS. SYLVESTER [_rising_].
You!
SYLVESTER.
Perhaps that seems to you impossible. You thought, perhaps, that I was
dull and stupid enough to go on with this empty life of ours to the
end. I thought so too, but I was wrong. I love this woman, and I've
told her so----
MRS. SYLVESTER [_with jealousy_].
Who is she?
SYLVESTER.
And I would tell her husband to his face
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Then she is married?
SYLVESTER.
As I tell _you._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Who is she, I say?
SYLVESTER.
Margery.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Margery! Are you all mad, you men? What is it in that woman that
enslaves you? What is the charm we others don't possess? Only you men
can see it; and you all do! You lose your senses, every one of you!
What is it in her that bewitches you?
SYLVESTER.
What you've crushed out of yourself--your womanhood. What you're
ashamed of is a woman's glory. Philosophy is well enough in boots; but
in a woman a man wants flesh and blood--frank human nature!
MRS. SYLVESTER [_laughing, hysterically_].
A mere animal!
SYLVESTER.
A woman.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Well, you have found one.
SYLVESTER.
Yes.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Take her, then! go your way!
SYLVESTER.
I will.
[_Exit, C._
MRS. SYLVESTER.
This world was made for such as you and her!
_Re-enter MARGERY, R., cloaked._
We have no place in it--we who love with our brains! we have no chance
of happiness!
MARGERY.
What chance have we? we, who love with our hearts! we, who are simply
what God made us--women! we, to whom love is not a cult--a problem,
but just as vital as the air we breathe. Take love away from us, and
you take life itself. You have your books, your sciences, your brains!
What have we?--nothing but our broken hearts!
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Broken hearts heal! The things that _you_ call hearts! One love is
dead, another takes its place; one man is lost, another man is found.
What is the difference to a love like yours? Oh, there are always men
for such women as you!
_By degrees re-enter omnes, R., L., and C., gradually, except GERALD._
MARGERY.
But if the love is not dead? if it's stolen? what is our lot
then--ours, whose love's alive? We, who're not skilled to steal--who
only want our own----
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Not skilled to steal! have you not stolen mine?
MARGERY.
I have one husband, and I want no other!
[_Murmurs._
LADY WARGRAVE [_restraining her_].
Calm yourself, dear!
MARGERY.
I have been calm too long!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Remember, you are my niece.
MARGERY.
That's what I do remember! [_Murmurs continue._] I am Gerald's wife!
That's what she doesn't forgive me! [_Addressing MRS. SYLVESTER._] You
call yourself a New Woman--you're not New at all. You're just as old
as Eve. You only want one thing--the one thing every woman wants--the
one thing that no woman's life's worth living without! A true man's
love! Ah, if we all had that, there'd be no problem of the sexes then.
I had it once. Heaven help me, I have lost it! I've done my best--it
isn't much, but it's the best I can. I give it up! If you have robbed
me of his love, my own is left to me; and if the future's yours, the
past is mine. He loved me once, and I shall love him always!
[_Exit, C._
ACT IV.
_A Month Later._
SCENE:--_An orchard at Mapledurham. Farmhouse at back, C. Paths off,
R. and L. front. A cluster of trees, R., at back. A few stumps of
trees to serve as seats._
_MARGERY discovered, standing on a ladder placed against one of the
trees, gathering apples, which she throws into a basket below. She is
dressed in peasant costume._
_Enter ARMSTRONG, C._
ARMSTRONG.
Margery!
MARGERY.
Yes, dad!
ARMSTRONG [_comes underneath the tree and roars with laughter_].
Here's a slice of luck! That fellow in London wants the grey mare back
again!
MARGERY [_who has come down_].
The grey mare, father?
ARMSTRONG.
Old Dapple! you remember her?
MARGERY.
Of course! but what about her?
ARMSTRONG.
Bless me, haven't I told you? I sold old Dapple to a chap in London.
MARGERY [_reproachfully_]
You sold old Dapple?
ARMSTRONG.
She's too good for hereabouts. True, she's a splint on the off leg,
but what's a splint? I sold her without warranty, and buyer took her
with all faults, just as she stood.
MARGERY.
Well, dad?
ARMSTRONG.
Darn me, if the next day he didn't cry off his bargain!
MARGERY [_thoughtfully_].
Poor Dapple!
ARMSTRONG.
Oh, says I, if you're not satisfied with her, I am. So, there's your
money; give me back my mare. An Armstrong doesn't stand on warranties.
MARGERY.
No, daddy dear, and you don't mind the splint?
ARMSTRONG.
But Margery, you should have seen the screw he got in place of her!
Ha, ha! she was _all_ splints!
MARGERY.
He's found that out?
ARMSTRONG.
And wants the old mare back! at my own price!
MARGERY.
This _is_ good news! For we were getting hard up, weren't we, father?
ARMSTRONG.
Ay, farming isn't what it used to be; and now that you won't let me
take in visitors----
MARGERY.
I never stopped you.
ARMSTRONG.
How about Captain Sylvester?
MARGERY.
Oh, him!
ARMSTRONG.
He's an old customer; and always seemed a civil-spoken gentleman
enough.
MARGERY.
Too civil!
ARMSTRONG.
That's more than you were, Margery. You'd scarce say a word.
MARGERY.
He came for no good.
ARMSTRONG.
There's no harm in trout fishing--unless it's for the trout.
MARGERY.
I was the trout.
ARMSTRONG.
You? Go on! That's the way with you girls! You think all the men are
after you. I'm sure he said nothing to hurt you.
MARGERY.
But he has written since.
ARMSTRONG [_scratches his head_].
I didn't know he'd written.
MARGERY.
Nearly every day.
ARMSTRONG.
Those letters were from _him?_ I thought they were from----
[_Hesitates._
MARGERY.
No! From Captain Sylvester.
ARMSTRONG.
Of course you haven't answered them?
MARGERY.
Only the last.
ARMSTRONG.
I shouldn't have done that.
MARGERY.
Yes, you would, dad!
ARMSTRONG.
Well, you know best. You always went your own way, Margery, and it was
always the right road.
MARGERY.
Where shall I put these apples?
ARMSTRONG.
Nay, I've the broadest shoulders. Give me a hand; I'll take 'em.
[_MARGERY helps him to put the basket on his shoulders. Exit, C._
MARGERY.
Dear old dad! We leave our parents, and we return to them; they let us
go, and they take us back again! How little we think of their
partings, and how much of our own!
[_Sits, R._
_Enter SYLVESTER, L. front._
SYLVESTER.
I saw you in the apple-tree, and took a short cut.
MARGERY.
You got my message then?
SYLVESTER.
How good of you to send for me! So then my letters have had some
effect?
MARGERY.
I sent for you because I want to speak to you.
SYLVESTER.
And I to you. Margery, I've left my wife.
MARGERY.
Yes, so I heard.
SYLVESTER.
She was no wife to me. For years our marriage has been a mockery, and
it was best to put an end to it. Now I am free.
MARGERY.
Because you've left your wife?
SYLVESTER.
It's no use beating about the bush. Things have gone too far, and I'm
too much in earnest. She loves your husband. It is common talk. I've
shut my eyes as long as possible, and you've shut yours; but we both
know the truth.
MARGERY.
That you've deserted her!
SYLVESTER.
What if I have?
MARGERY.
Go back.
SYLVESTER.
Back to a wife who is no wife!
MARGERY.
Back to the woman you promised to protect, and whom you left when she
most needed you.
SYLVESTER.
Because I love you, Margery!
MARGERY.
That love won't last long. Love can't live on nothing!
SYLVESTER.
There is no hope for me?
MARGERY.
No, not a scrap!
SYLVESTER.
Then what do you propose? To sacrifice your life to an idea--to be
true to a phantom? You owe no faith to one who is unfaithful. Think!
You are young--your real life lies before you--would you end it before
it's begun? A widow before you're a wife?
MARGERY.
I am a wife, and I shall not forget it. If I have lost my husband's
love, at least I'll save his honour. A public scandal mayn't mean much
to _you,_ but it means your wife's ruin--it means Gerald's. Gerald
shall not be ruined! You _shall_ go back to her!
SYLVESTER.
Is it a challenge?
MARGERY.
Challenge or not, you _shall!_ It is ignoble to desert her so! You are
a coward to make love to me! If her love was unworthy, what is yours?
Is it for you to cast a stone at her? See! Read your letters!
[_Producing a packet._] Letters to me--love-letters! Letters to a
woman you didn't respect in her grief and persecuted in her
loneliness--a woman who would have none of you--who tells you to your
face you're not a man! Your love's an insult! take the thing away!
[_Turns off. Pause._
SYLVESTER.
Do you propose to send those to my wife?
MARGERY.
No! but I want to make you realize you need more mercy than you show
to her. These letters were written for my eye alone; to open them was
to promise secrecy.
SYLVESTER.
Why have you kept them, then?
MARGERY.
To give them back to you.
[_Gives him the packet. Another pause._
SYLVESTER.
Margery, everything you say and do makes it more hard to go away from
you.
MARGERY.
You're going, then?
SYLVESTER.
Your words leave me no choice.
MARGERY.
Where are you going? to her?
SYLVESTER.
I don't know yet. I don't know if I'm welcome.
[_Playing with the packet, mechanically._
MARGERY.
That rests with you. You say, she's been no wife to you; but have you
been a husband to her?
SYLVESTER.
Why do you take her part? She's injured you enough.
MARGERY.
Yes; she _has_ injured me; but now I know what it is to live without
love, and to want it, I can pardon her. Can't you? [_Goes to him and
gives him both her hands._] Forgive her, Captain Sylvester--freely as
I do you--give her the love that you have offered me--and you will
find your wife's a woman just as much as I am.
SYLVESTER.
Margery--I may call you "Margery?"
MARGERY.
I'm "Margery" to everybody now.
SYLVESTER.
If there were more women like you, there would be fewer men like me.
[_Exit, L._
MARGERY [_looks after him, then goes, R. front and looks again_].
He'll go back to his wife; and if she isn't happy, it's her fault.
[_Exit, R._
_Re-enter ARMSTRONG, showing out, C., LADY WARGRAVE and the COLONEL._
ARMSTRONG.
This way, my lady. I'll send Margery to you.
[_Exit ARMSTRONG, R._
COLONEL.
This must be put right, Caroline.
LADY WARGRAVE.
I mean to put it right.
COLONEL [_severely_].
A Cazenove living apart from his wife!
LADY WARGRAVE.
It is sad--very sad.
COLONEL.
More than that, Caroline--it's not respectable.
LADY WARGRAVE.
That doesn't trouble _you._
COLONEL.
It shocks me. The institution of marriage is the foundation of
society; and whatever tends to cast discredit on that holy "ordnance"
saps the moral fibre of the community.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Did you say, "ordnance?"
COLONEL.
I did say, "ordnance." It was a slip of the tongue.
LADY WARGRAVE.
You are not used to ordinances.
COLONEL.
What do you mean, Caroline? Wasn't I baptized--wasn't I confirmed?
LADY WARGRAVE.
There is another ceremony which, during a somewhat long career, you
have systematically avoided.
COLONEL.
A mere sin of omission, which even now it is not too late to repair. I
am a young man still----
LADY WARGRAVE.
Young man?
COLONEL.
Comparatively. And everything in the world is comparative. What cannot
be undone in the past can at least be avoided in the future.
LADY WARGRAVE.
What is the matter with you, Theodore? You have suddenly become quite
a moral martinet, and have developed such a severity of aspect that I
scarcely know my own brother.
COLONEL [_aside_].
Shall I tell her? Dare I? Courage!
LADY WARGRAVE.
I think I liked you better as you were. At any rate, I was used to
you.
COLONEL.
How peaceful it is here, Caroline--how sylvan!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Yes, it's a pretty little place enough.
COLONEL.
It might have been created expressly for the exchange of those sacred
confidences which are never more becoming than when shared between a
brother and a sister.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Good gracious! you are growing quite sentimental! I have no
confidences to make.
COLONEL.
But _I_ have.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Theodore! What fresh iniquity--?
COLONEL.
Caroline, I am going to be married.
[_Blows his nose vigorously._
LADY WARGRAVE [_astounded_].
Married!
COLONEL.
To-morrow.
LADY WARGRAVE.
To whom, pray?
COLONEL.
Miss Bethune.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Give me my smelling salts.
COLONEL [_gives her them_].
Enid! Pretty name, isn't it? Enid!
[_Smiling to himself._
LADY WARGRAVE.
No fool like an old fool!
COLONEL.
Fifty-six.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Eight.
COLONEL.
But don't tell Enid, will you?
LADY WARGRAVE.
There are so many things I mustn't tell Enid!
COLONEL.
No, Caroline; I've made a clean breast of it.
LADY WARGRAVE.
_Quite_ a clean breast of it?
COLONEL.
Everything in the world is comparative.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Then, Miss Bethune has renounced her opinions?
COLONEL.
Oh, no; she's too much of a woman for that.
LADY WARGRAVE.
How can she reconcile them with your enormities?
COLONEL.
My peccadilloes? Oh, she doesn't believe them--or she pretends she
doesn't--which is the same thing. She says we men exaggerate so; and
as for the women, you simply can't believe a word they say!
[_Chuckles in his old style._
LADY WARGRAVE.
At any rate, she means to marry you?
COLONEL.
Upon the whole, she thinks I have been rather badly used.
[_Chuckles again._
LADY WARGRAVE.
To marry! after your experience!
COLONEL.
Way of the world, my dear. My poor old adjutant! went through the
Mutiny unscathed, and killed in Rotten Row!
LADY WARGRAVE.
Well, it was quite time that you had a nurse!
[_Rising and going R. front to meet MARGERY._
COLONEL.
Caroline's taken it very well. Nothing like courage in these
matters--courage! "Nurse" was distinctly nasty; but that's Caroline's
way.
_Re-enter ARMSTRONG, R., followed by MARGERY._
ARMSTRONG.
Found her at last, my lady.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Leave us together, Armstrong.
[_MARGERY drops a curtsey._
ARMSTRONG.
Come with me, Colonel. If you'll step indoors, I'll give you a glass
of ale that'll do your heart good.
COLONEL [_putting his arm through ARMSTRONG'S_].
Caroline takes it very well.
[_Quite forgetting himself._
ARMSTRONG.
My lady's very welcome.
COLONEL [_hastily withdrawing his arm_].
No, no, no! I was talking to myself. [_Exit ARMSTRONG, C., roaring.
Aside, glancing at LADY WARGRAVE._] Nurse!
[_Exit, C._
LADY WARGRAVE.
Margery, I've come to scold you.
MARGERY.
Yes, my lady.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Aunt. Come and sit down by me. [_Draws her towards seat under the
tree, L. LADY WARGRAVE sits--MARGERY at her feet._] Yes, Margery, to
scold you. Why did you not confide in me? If you had only told me of
your troubles, this would never have happened. It was undutiful.
MARGERY.
No, aunt. There are some troubles one can confide to nobody--some
griefs which are too sacred to be talked about.
LADY WARGRAVE.
And is yours one of them? You are young, Margery; and youth
exaggerates its sorrows as well as its joys. Nothing has happened that
cannot be put right, if you will only trust me and obey me.
MARGERY.
I owe my obedience elsewhere.
LADY WARGRAVE.
And do you think that you have paid it?
MARGERY.
Yes.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Gerald _desired_ you to leave him?
MARGERY.
No; but I read his thoughts--just as you used to say I could read
yours--and I obeyed his wishes.
LADY WARGRAVE.
Then if he wished you to return, you would come back?
MARGERY.
Not if he'd been talked over; not if he asked me to go back to him
because he thinks it his duty, or I want him. I don't want duty; I
want love.
LADY WARGRAVE.
You wouldn't see him, if I sent him to you?
MARGERY.
What is the use of seeing him? You can send Gerald, but not Gerald's
heart. I have done all I can--I can't do any more. I've saved his
honour--I've resigned his love. All I ask is, to be left alone with
mine.
[_Turning away._
[_LADY WARGRAVE rises, and as GERALD advances, retires into the house,
C._
GERALD.
Margery!
MARGERY.
Gerald!
GERALD.
I am not here to ask you to come back to me. How can I say what I have
come for? I have come--because I cannot keep away from you. To ask for
your forgiveness----
MARGERY.
You have that.
GERALD.
And, if it's possible, some place in your esteem. Let me say this, and
I will say no more. If, for a little space, my heart strayed from you,
Margery--if, for a moment, words escaped my lips which cannot be
recalled, that is my only infidelity. You understand me?
MARGERY.
Yes.
GERALD.
That's what I came to say--that's all!
MARGERY [_giving him her hand_].
Thank you for telling me.
GERALD [_holding her hand_].
Not all I want to say, but all I must. I am no longer a free man. My
lips are sealed.
MARGERY.
What seals them?
GERALD.
Haven't you heard? Sylvester's left his wife--and it is all my doing.
MARGERY.
No, it is his.
GERALD.
His?
MARGERY.
I may tell you now. He left his wife, not through your fault or hers,
but to make love to me.
GERALD.
He has been here?
MARGERY.
But he has gone.
GERALD.
Where?
MARGERY.
To his wife. I sent him back to her.
GERALD.
Then, I am free!
MARGERY.
Yes, Gerald.
GERALD.
Free to say how I love you--how I have always loved you! Yes, Margery,
I loved you even then--then when I spoke those unjust, cruel words;
but love's so weird a thing it sometimes turns us against those we
love. But when I saw you, there upon the ground, my heart turned back
to you--no, it was not my heart, only my lips that were unfaithful! My
heart was always yours--not half of it, but all--yours when I married
you, yours when you said good-bye, and never more yours, never as much
as now, now I have lost you.
MARGERY.
You have not lost me, if you love me that much!
[_Throwing her arms round him._
GERALD.
Margery!
_LADY WARGRAVE and COLONEL re-enter, quietly, C., and stand, looking
on, at back, amongst the trees._
GERALD.
My wife again!
MARGERY.
But, Gerald, remember I am nothing more. I don't think I shall ever be
a lady.
GERALD.
Always in my eyes!
MARGERY.
No, not even there. Only a woman.
GERALD.
I want you to be nothing less or more--only a woman!
[_About to kiss her. LADY WARGRAVE, at back, bows her head, with her
fan half spread before the COLONEL'S face. GERALD kisses MARGERY._
CURTAIN.
CHISWICK PRESS:--CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY
LANE, LONDON.
Transcriber's Note
This transcription is based on images scanned by Google from a copy
made available by the Princeton University Library.
The following changes to the text were noted:
- Throughout the text, dashes at the end of lines have been
normalized.
- p. 31: _Re-enter MARGERY, R., she goes straight..._--Changed comma
after "R." to semicolon.
- p. 46: We musn't make so much noise.--Changed "musn't" to "mustn't"
as "mustn't" is the preferred spelling elsewhere in the text.
- p. 63: _Enter MRS. SYLVESTER, she hesitates, on seeing LADY
WARGRAVE._--Changed comma after "SYLVESTER" to semicolon.
- p. 78: Yes, Mrs. Sylvester, its best--Changed "its" to "it's".
- p. 84, last line: It was enough--Added period to end of sentence.
The html version of this etext attempts to reproduce the layout of the
printed text. However, some concessions have been made, particularly
in the handling of stage directions enclosed by brackets on one side.
When these fit on a line, they were printed flush right. When they did
not, they were printed on the next line. For the purposes of this
transcription, these stage directions were all placed on the next
line, indented the same amount from the left margin, and coded as
hanging paragraphs.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Woman, by Sydney Grundy
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NEW WOMAN ***
***** This file should be named 40839-8.txt or 40839-8.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/8/3/40839/
Produced by Paul Haxo from page images generously made
available by Google and the Princeton University Library.
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
www.gutenberg.org/license.
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License. You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809
North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email
contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
[email protected]
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
www.gutenberg.org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
