A Fool's Paradise Part 3

PHIL. Yes, doctor.

SIR P. Where's the serpent?

PHIL. The serpent?

SIR P. There was a serpent even in paradise.

PHIL. There's none in mine.

SIR P. (_rises_) I'm sorry to hear it. (_crosses to C._) There is only one sort of paradise in which there is no serpent.

PHIL. What sort do you mean?

SIR P. (C.) A fool's. (_takes snuff and goes to hearthrug, R., back to fire-place_)

PHIL. (_rises and crosses to R.C. and sits L. of table_) You are plain spoken, Sir Peter. Now tell me with equal candour what is the matter with me. Perhaps that is the serpent.

SIR P. Shall I tell you the truth?

PHIL. Of course.

SIR P. I don't know.

PHIL. Surely, with your experience----

SIR P. Sir, I have no experience.

PHIL. Well, with your knowledge----

SIR P. Sir, I have no knowledge. Knowledge is the monopoly of extremely young pract.i.tioners. I have been doctoring for forty years; and now, I stand here on your hearthrug, sir, a monument of triumphant ignorance.

PHIL. Nonsense, Sir Peter.

SIR P. Sense, sir, sense.

PHIL. Be candid and tell me frankly what is wrong with me.

SIR P. Your liver, probably.

PHIL. Only my liver?

SIR P. (_advances to table_) Don't speak disparagingly of your liver, sir. That eminently respectable organ has been much misunderstood. It is commonly supposed to serve certain functional purposes in the physical economy. Another fallacy! The liver was made, by a beautiful provision of nature, for the benefit of the medical profession. (_sits in arm-chair, R._)

_Re-enter MILDRED and TOM, followed by LORD NORMANTOWER, C. from R._

MIL. Phil, here's Lord Normantower. (_MILDRED runs on to back of table, followed by TOM, who gets R. of sofa, and sits on arm of it.

SIR PETER rises and goes down two steps, R._)

PHIL. Ned! (_rises and turns up to meet LORD NORMANTOWER_)

TOM. He's so brown, and he's grown such a beard!

NOR. (_up C._) Well, Phil, old man, how are you?

PHIL. (_they come down stage together, C., PHILIP on R. of LORD NORMANTOWER, MILDRED crosses behind them to back of sofa, L. of TOM_) My dear Ned! I can't tell you how glad I am to see you. Sir Peter Lund--Lord Normantower. How kind of you to come and stop with us! How pleasant it will be to chat over old times! But first of all, let me congratulate you on your new dignity.

NOR. Dignity? My dear Phil, I have no dignity. I am a born Bohemian, and the idea of me dropping in for a peerage strikes me as so ludicrous, I've done nothing but laugh ever since I became a hereditary legislator. (_laughs_)

TOM. Ha, ha, ha!

NOR. (_suddenly serious_) What's the matter with you?

TOM. Fancy Ned a legislator!

NOR. Even Tom sees the joke. (_throws hat to TOM_)

_TOM, suddenly serious, turns up to be consoled by MILDRED; exeunt, C.

to R.; TOM hanging LORD NORMANTOWER'S hat on stick in stand._

PHIL. Lord Normantower and I were at Oxford together. We became great friends; and though circ.u.mstances have kept us a good deal apart--we've never quite lost sight of one another.

NOR. I haven't the pleasure of knowing Sir Peter myself, but I believe other members of my family have had that privilege.

SIR P. (_crosses to LORD NORMANTOWER, C._) Sir, I had the honour of attending the last three Earls of Normantower. Your uncle--gout; your cousin Richard--lungs; your cousin John--delirium--humph--delirium!

(_PHILIP drops down, R.C._)

NOR. (_throws gloves on table, L.C._) That branch of the family disposed of, the peerage devolved on me as the eldest son of my poor father--the only Verinder who never enjoyed the t.i.tle, and the only one who deserved it.

SIR P. (_shaking him by the hand_) I quite agree with you. (_turns up C._)

PHIL. Let us hope his son will be worthy of him.

NOR. (_sits in chair R. of sofa_) Ah, well, I'll do my best; but ten thousand a year, paid quarterly in advance, would have suited Ned Verinder's book better than an empty honour without a shilling to support it.

PHIL. (_crosses to LORD NORMANTOWER_) Well, there's one consolation.

If it's a difficult matter for a peer to make money, it's very easy for him to marry it. (_SIR PETER comes down to fire-place, R._)

NOR. Marry? Not me! No! I was born a bachelor, and am not going to fly in the face of Providence.

PHIL. You don't believe in marriage?

NOR. Of course there are exceptions; and I hope from the bottom of my heart, yours is one of them. I haven't seen your wife yet, you know.

PHIL. I've married a most charming woman, Ned--haven't I, Sir Peter?

(_going to L. of table, R.C._)

SIR P. (_picks up Punch from table, R._) Sir--your wife is my hostess, and one's hostess is always charming. (_bows and turns off--sitting R., reading_)

NOR. A charming woman? You arouse painful memories. I once knew a charming woman. To be quite frank, I was engaged to one.