St. John Hankin

“ I say what I think, do what I please. Scandal has done its worst with me, and I no longer fear it. Whereas, when I had a character for morality to maintain, all my time was wasted in trying to live up to it. I had to conceal every trifling flirtation, and had finally wrapped myself in such a web of falsehood that when your hand tore away the veil, I give you my word, I was almost grateful. Depend upon it, Sir Peter, there’s no possession in the world so troublesome as a good reputation.
Sir Peter.
[Digging him in the ribs.] Ah, Joseph, you’re a sad dog. But here comes your uncle, Sir Oliver. ”

“ She’d leave her husband upon any terms.
Is there a woman in the whole wide world
That would not rather die a dozen times
Rather than live her life out with this man,
This puling, miserable, craven thing,
Who lets his wife lay down her life for him
And, when by miracle she is restored
To earth again and claims his gratitude,
Has the bad taste to grumble at the fact? Admetus.
I told you, Heracles, she had a tongue. Heracles.
Indeed, she’s well equipped in that respect. Alcestis.
To such a man the stones themselves would speak. Heracles.
Well, lady, are you then content to die? Alcestis. ”

“ Sir Peter.
[Angrily.] And now ’tis Joseph. Zounds, Madam, is a man never to be allowed to change his mind? [Raising his voice in fury.] I say ’tis Joseph! Joseph!! Joseph!!!
[Enter Joseph Surface. Sir Peter and Lady Teazle are obviously disconcerted at this inopportune arrival, and say nothing. Joseph has greatly changed in appearance in the six months which have elapsed between the play and the sequel. He has lost his sleekness and his air of conscious virtue, and looks like a careless, good-humoured man-about-town.
Joseph.
[Obviously enjoying their discomfort.] Sir Peter, your servant. ”

“ You may laugh at me, Pauline, but you know I’m right.
Pauline.
Of course you’re right, dear. Much too right for this wicked world. That’s why I never can take your advice on any subject. You’re so unpractical.
Claude.
[Breaking out again.] The world, the world, oh, how I hate this world! Pauline.
Now that’s silly of you, dear. There’s nothing like making the best of a bad thing. By the way, Claude, didn’t you say Mrs. Melnotte was coming to call this afternoon? ”

“ Octavian.
[In his tired voice.] Better put him to death. It will save a lot of trouble in the end.
Agrippa.
But the boy’s your own cousin.
Octavian.
Yes. I have always disliked my relations.
Agrippa.
[Admiringly.] I begin to think you are a genius, Cæsar, after all.
Octavian.
I am. Much good it does me! I’d give my genius for your digestion any day.
[Leans back on throne and closes his eyes.
[Enter Charmian hurriedly, looking pale and dishevelled.
Charmian.
Help! Help! The Queen is dying!
Octavian.
[Irritably, opening his eyes.] Stop that noise, girl! You make my head ache.
Charmian. ”

“ Ebbsmith.
[Puzzled.] Your hour? I don’t think I quite understand you.
Agnes.
There’s only one hour in a woman’s life—when she’s defying her husband, wrecking his happiness and blasting his prospects. That is her hour! Let her make the most of every second of it! ”

“ These, only these, make up “Society.” Pauline.
[Patiently.] But that’s such a dreadful misuse of words, dear. When one talks of “Society,” one does not mean good people, or unselfish people, or high-minded people, but people who keep a carriage and give dinner parties. Those are the only things which really matter socially.
Claude.
Pauline, Pauline, what dreadful sentiments!
They show a worldly and perverted mind.
I grieve to think my wife should utter them! Pauline. [Pg 112]
[Very sweetly.] I wish, Claude, you’d try and give up talking in blank verse. It’s very bad form. ”

“ I go [Pg 77] no more to my Lady Sneerwell’s, though I vow hers was a most delightful house to visit. Such fashion and elegance. Such wit! Such delicate malice!
Sir Peter.
[Fretfully.] Just so, Madam; that is what I complain of. All the while you are longing to return to these follies. You are not happy when you are alone with me.
Lady Teazle.
Great heavens, Sir Peter: you must not ask for miracles. What woman of fashion is ever happy alone with her husband?
Sir Peter.
There it is, Lady Teazle. You think only of fashion. ”

“ Charles. [Pg 98]
Fight against it! I fight against it every hour of the day. Every morning I say to myself, “I really must get over this ridiculous shyness. I must try and show Kate how much I—er—love her.”
Kate.
You are curiously unsuccessful, dear.
Charles.
[Miserably.] I feel that. But it’s not for lack of trying. [Desperately.] Do you suppose, Kate, that anything but the strongest effort of will keeps me sitting in this chair at this moment? Do I ever, save under compulsion, remain in the same room with any lady for more than five minutes? ”

“ I do hope no one else will call at the same time. Perhaps I’d better tell James we are not at home to anyone except Mrs. Melnotte.
Claude.
Oh, no, don’t do that. My mother will enjoy meeting our friends.
Pauline.
No doubt, dear. But will our friends enjoy meeting your mother? [Seeing him about to burst forth again.] Oh, yes, Claude, I know what you are going to say. But, after all, Lyons is a very purse-proud, vulgar place. You know, how my mother can behave on occasions! And if Mrs. Melnotte happens to be here when any other people call it may be very unpleasant. ”

“ And, Agnes, if you could manage to be dressed in time to receive them I should be very much obliged.
Agnes.
I?
Ebbsmith.
Of course. I suppose you will be here to entertain our guests?
Agnes.
Your guests, you mean.
Ebbsmith.
My dear Agnes, surely my guests are your guests also.
Agnes.
[Breaking out.] As long as the present unjust and oppressive marriage laws remain in force——
Ebbsmith.
[Interrupting.] I don’t think we need go into the question of the alteration of the marriage laws.
Agnes.
Ah, yes. You always refuse to listen to my arguments on that subject. You know they are unanswerable. ”

“ Cleopatra.
[Losing her temper.] Oh, you’re not a man at all! You’re a block, a stone! You have no blood in your veins. You’re not like Antony.
Octavian.
No, dear lady, I’m not like Antony. If I were, I shouldn’t have beaten him at Actium.
Cleopatra.
I won’t stay to be baited in this way. I won’t! I won’t!
[Pg 209]
[Goes towards door.
Octavian.
[Gallantly.] Farewell, then. We shall meet again. Agrippa, the Queen is going.
Agrippa.
[Breaking off in the midst of his flirtation.] Eh? Oh, good-bye.
Cleopatra.
[Stamping her foot.] Charmian! ”

“ Time was when the London playhouses had not been invaded by the coarse suggestiveness or the veiled indelicacy of the Norwegian stage, when Paterfamilias could still take his daughters to the theatre without a blush. Those days are past. The Master—as his followers call him—like a deadly upas tree, has spread his blighting influence over our stage. ”

“ Zounds, Nephew, don’t stand chuckling there. And his character has not reformed one whit, in spite of his promises. His flirtations with my Lady Sneerwell and others are so excessive that Maria has quite thrown him over, and the engagement is broken off. Add to this that I have paid his debts three times, only to find him contracting fresh liabilities, and you may judge that my patience is exhausted.
Joseph.
But these are old stories, Uncle. You knew that Charles was vicious and extravagant when you made him your heir. He has done nothing fresh to offend you.
Sir Oliver. ”

“ OCTAVIAN AND CLEOPATRA. Scene.—An extravagantly furnished apartment in the Palace at Alexandria. Cleopatra is discovered seated upon her throne. She is dressed with mournful splendour, as befits a queen who has been defeated at Actium and has suffered a recent bereavement. Her face is as attractive as a liberal use of cosmetics can make it, and her whole appearance is that of a middle-aged and rather dissipated member of the corps de ballet who has gone into half-mourning because the manager has reduced her salary. Charmian, a pretty, shrewish-looking damsel, is in attendance on her. ”

“ There were thus all the materials for an acute political crisis. It might have been imagined that the crown would fall inevitably to the Norwegian Prince Fortinbras who, being on the spot with an army behind him, certainly seems to have neglected his chances. It is clear, however, from the sequel that Fortinbras failed to rise to the occasion, and that Horatio, being more an antique Roman than a Dane, seized his opportunity and by a coup d’état got possession of the vacant throne. Nor would Fortinbras appear to have resented this, as we find him subsequently visiting Horatio at Elsinore. ”

“ It’s dreadfully snobbish, dear; the most snobbish sort of Society I know. All provincial towns are like that. But it’s the only Society there is here, you know, and we must make the best of it.
Claude.
My poor Pauline.
[Kissing her.
[Pg 115]
Pauline.
[Gently.] But you know, Claude, social distinctions do exist. Why not recognize them? And the late Mr. Melnotte was a gardener!
Claude.
He was—an excellent gardener.
Pauline.
One of the Lower Classes.
Claude.
In a Republic there are no Lower Classes.
Pauline.
[Correcting him.] In a Republic there are no Higher Classes. ”

“ Benedick.
[Impressively.] My dear Lord, never marry a witty wife! If you do, you’ll repent it. But it’s a painful subject. Let’s talk of something else. How’s Claudio? I thought we should see him—and Hero—with you. ”

“ Dangle, did you not tell me the critics were all unfavourable to Mr. Puff’s play?
Dangle.
Nearly all of them. But if the other critics abuse a play, you will always find the critic of The World will praise it. ’Tis the nature of the man. ”

“ Pauline.
I quite understand, mother dear.
Mrs. Deschappelles.
And, as I always say to your poor father, “When one is a leader of Society, one has so many engagements.” I am sure you find that.
Pauline.
I have hardly begun to receive visits yet.
Mrs. Deschappelles.
No, dear? But then it’s different with you. When you married Colonel Melnotte, of course you gave up all social ambitions.
Mrs. Melnotte.
I am sure no one could wish for a better, braver [Pg 121] husband than my Claude.
Mrs. Deschappelles.
[Turning sharply round and observing Mrs. Melnotte for the first time.] I beg your pardon? ”

“ Should she set herself to ‘live her life,’ in the modern phrase, to realise her individuality and stand forth glad and free as Gregers Werle says? Or should she deny her ego, bow to the old conventions, accept the old Shibboleths and surrender her love? ”

“ THE UNFORTUNATE MR. EBBSMITH. Scene.—The dining-room of the Ebbsmiths’ house in West Kensington. Agnes and her husband are at breakfast. They have been married seven years. She looks much as we see her in the early acts of the play—gaunt, pale, badly dressed. He is a careworn man with hair slightly grey at the temples, an anxious forehead and sad eyes. ”

“ You can’t expect a writer for the penny press to have something new to say in every sentence! How the plague is a dramatic critic who has nothing to say to fill a column, if he is never to be allowed to repeat himself? ”

“ Octavian.
[Wearily.] My dear Agrippa, how stupid you are! What possible use can a quite plain and middle-aged lady be in a triumphal procession? If Cleopatra were still attractive I should say, “Save her, by all means.” As she isn’t, [yawning] I think we may let her die her own way without being charged with excessive magnanimity. ”

“ The future looks black for everybody concerned. Claudio’s jealous disposition will make him a most uncomfortable husband for the resuscitated Hero, while Benedick and Beatrice are likely to find that a common taste in badinage is not the most satisfactory basis for matrimony. When it is added that Don John’s genius for plotting [Pg 39] is sure in the end to get him into trouble one feels that nothing can be gloomier than the prospects of the entire cast.
MORE ADO ABOUT NOTHING. Scene.—The garden of Benedick’s house at Padua. Benedick is sitting on a garden seat, sunning himself indolently. ”

“ My dear Agnes, the Standard has a leading article on it. Listen to this:—“Mrs. Ebbsmith’s crusade against the institution of marriage is again attracting unfavourable attention. Last night in St. Luke’s she once more attempted to ventilate her preposterous schemes ... crack-brained crusade ... bellowing revolutionary nonsense on obscure platforms.... This absurd visionary, whom her audiences not inappropriately nickname ‘Mad Agnes’.... Ultimately the meeting had to be broken up by the police.... We cannot understand how a man in Mr. Ebbsmith’s position can allow himself to be made ridiculous.” ”

“ THE VENGEANCE OF CASTE. Scene.—The dining-room of the D’Alroys’ house in the suburbs. Dinner is just over, and George D’Alroy, in a seedy coat and carpet slippers, is sitting by the fire smoking a pipe. On the other side of the fire sits Esther, his wife, darning a sock.
Esther.
Tired, George?
George.
Yes.
Esther.
Had a bad day in the City?
George.
Beastly! I believe I’m the unluckiest beggar in the world. Every stock I touch goes down.
[Pg 128]
Esther.
Why don’t you give up speculating if you’re so unlucky?
George.
[Hurt.] I don’t speculate, dear. I invest.
Esther. ”

“ What’s the matter with the Gerridges?
George.
Nothing, except that you always ask them to all our dinner parties. And as gentlepeople have a curious prejudice against sitting down to dinner with a plumber and glazier, it somewhat narrows our circle of acquaintance.
Esther.
But Sam isn’t a working plumber now. He has a shop of his own—quite a large shop. And their house is just as good as ours. The furniture i [Pg 135] s better. Sam bought Polly a new carpet for the drawing-room only last week. It cost fourteen pounds. And our drawing-room carpet is dreadfully shabby. ”

“ To right, a tavern—not deserted. To left, a potter’s house. At back, the grave of Bahrám, whence a sound of snoring proceeds. A wild ass stamps fitfully upon it. It is four o’clock in the morning, and the “false dawn” shows in the sky. In the centre of the stage stand a lion and a lizard, eyeing each other mistrustfully. ”

“ Aubrey.
Well, you’ll see her to-night. I hoped she would be able to dine at home, but she had promised to address a Temperance meeting in the village. [Cayley looks dubious.] However, she’ll be back at ten. Meanwhile, you’ll have to be contented with a bachelor dinner.
[They go to the table and sit down.
Cayley.
[Unfolding serviette.] Experience has taught me, my dear Aubrey, that bachelor dinners are apt to be particularly well worth eating. No doubt it is to make up for the absence of more charming society. ”

“ No. I think the time has come to make a stand against the convention which demands that a wife should preside at her husband’s dinner-parties. It is an absurdity. Away with it!
Ebbsmith.
[Alarmed.] But, Agnes! Think what you are doing. You don’t want to offend these people. Spencer and Thornton are useful men to know, and Jawkins puts a lot of work in my way.
Agnes.
[With magnificent scorn.] How like a man! And so I am to be civil to this Jawkins person because he “puts a lot of work in your way!”
Ebbsmith.
[Meekly.] Well, you know, my dear, I have to make an income somehow.
Agnes. ”