Belinda: An April Folly in Three Acts Part 5

--only it's rather awkward getting in, Mr. Baxter. Perhaps you'd both better look at the tulips for a moment.

BAXTER. Oh--ah--yes. (_Crosses down_ R., _turns his back to the hammock and examines the flowers_.)

DEVENISH (leaning over her). If only------

BELINDA. You'd better not say anything, Mr. Devenlsh. Keep it for your next volume. (_He turns away and examines flowers on_ L. _She sits on hammock_.) One, two, three--(_throws her legs over_)-- that was better than last time. (_They turn round to see her safely in the hammock_. DEVENISH _leans against the_ L. _tree at her feet, and_ BAXTER _draws the deck-chair from the right side of the table and turns it round towards her. He presses his hat more firmly on and sits down_.) I wonder if either of you can guess what I've been reading this afternoon!

DEVENISH (_looking at her lovingly_). I know.

BELINDA (_giving him a fleeting look_). How did you know?

DEVENISH. Well, I-----

BELINDA (_to_ BAXTER). Yes, Mr. Baxter, it was your article I was reading. If you'd come five minutes earlier you'd have found me wrestling--I mean revelling in it.

BAXTER. I am very greatly honoured, Mrs. Tremayne. Ah--it seemed to me a very interesting curve showing the rise and fall of-----

BELINDA. I hadn't got up to the curves. They _are_ interesting, aren't they? They are really more in Mr. Devenish's line. (_To_ DEVENISH.) Mr. Devenish, it was a great disappointment to me that all the poems in your book seemed to be written to somebody else.

DEVENISH. It was before I met you, lady. They were addressed to the G.o.ddess of my imagination. It is only in these last few weeks that I have discovered her.

BELINDA. And discovered she was dark and not fair.

DEVENISH. She will be dark in my next volume.

BELINDA. Oh, how nice of her!

BAXTER (_kindly_). You should write a real poem to Mrs. Tremayne.

BELINDA (_excitedly_). Oh do! "To Belinda." I don't know what rhymes, except cinder. You could say your heart was like a cinder--all burnt up.

DEVENISH (_pained_). Oh, my lady, I'm afraid that is a c.o.c.kney rhyme.

BELINDA. How thrilling! I've never been to Hampstead Heath.

DEVENISH. "Belinda." It is far too beautiful to rhyme with anything but itself.

BELINDA. Fancy! But what about Tremayne? (_Singing_.) Oh, I am Mrs.

Tremayne, and I don't want to marry again.

DEVENISH (_protesting_). My lady!

BAXTER (_protesting_). Belinda!

BELINDA (_pointing excitedly to_ BAXTER). There, that's the first time he's called me Belinda! This naughty boy--(_indicating_ DEVENISH)--is always doing it--by accident.

DEVENISH. Are you serious?

BELINDA. Not as a rule.

DEVENISH. You're not going to marry again?

BELINDA. Well, who could I marry?

DEVENISH and BAXTER (_together_). Me!

BELINDA (_dropping her eyes modestly_). But this is England.

BAXTER (_rising and taking off his hat, which he places on table, and going up to_ BELINDA). Mrs. Tremayne, I claim the right of age--of my greater years--to speak first.

DEVENISH. Mrs. Tremayne, I--

BELINDA (_kindly to_ DEVENISH). You can speak afterwards, Mr.

Devenish. It's so awkward when you both speak together. (_To_ BAXTER, _giving encouragement_.) Yes?

BAXTER (_moving down a little and then returning to_ BELINDA). Mrs.

Tremayne, I am a man of substantial position--(DEVENISH _sn.i.g.g.e.rs-- to_ BAXTER'S _great annoyance_.) and perhaps I may say of some repute in serious circles.

(DEVENISH _sn.i.g.g.e.rs again_.)

All that I have, whether of material or mental endowment, I lay at your feet, together with an admiration which I cannot readily put into words.

As my wife I think you would be happy, and I feel that with you by my side I could achieve even greater things.

BELINDA. How sweet of you! But I ought to tell you that I'm no good at figures.

DEVENISH (_protesting_). My lady--

BELINDA. I don't mean what you mean, Mr. Devenish. You wait till it's your turn. (_To_ BAXTER.) Yes?

BAXTER (_very formally_). I ask you to marry me, Belinda.

BELINDA (_settling herself happily and closing her eyes_). O-oh!...

Now it's _your_ turn, Mr. Devenish.

DEVENISH (_excitedly_). Money--thank Heaven, I have no money.

Reputation--thank Heaven, I have no reputation.

(BAXTER, _very annoyed, moves down and sits on deck-chair_.)

What can I offer you? Dreams--nothing but dreams. Come with me and I will show you the world through my dreams. What can I give you? Youth, freedom, beauty--

BAXTER. Debts.

BELINDA (_still with her eyes shut_). You mustn't interrupt, Mr.

Baxter.

DEVENISH (_leaning across hammock_). Belinda, marry me and I will open your eyes to the beauty of the world. Come to me!