Complete Plays of John Galsworthy - novelonlinefull.com
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FREMAN. [Mollified] We'll 'ave that zet down, then, while we're electin' the chairman o' the next meetin'.
[A silence. ]
TRUSTAFORD. Well then, seein' this is the praaper old meetin' for carryin' the resolution about the curate, I purpose Mr. Sol Potter take the chair.
FREMAN. I purpose Mr. Trustaford. I 'aven't a-got nothin' against Sol Potter, but seein' that he elected the meetin' that's to elect 'im, it might be said that 'e was electin' of himzelf in a manner of spakin'. Us don't want that said.
MORSE. [Amid meditative grunts from the dumb-as-fishes] There's some-at in that. One o' they tu purposals must be putt to the meetin'.
FREMAN. Second must be putt virst, fur zure.
TRUSTAFORD. I dunno as I wants to zet in that chair. To hiss the curate, 'tis a ticklish sort of a job after that. Vurst comes afore second, Will Freeman.
FREMAN. Second is amendment to virst. 'Tes the amendments is putt virst.
TRUSTAFORD. 'Ow's that, Mr. G.o.dleigh? I'm not particular eggzac'ly to a dilly zort of a point like that.
SOL POTTER. [Scratching his, head] 'Tes a very nice point, for zure.
G.o.dLEIGH. 'Tes undoubtedly for the chairman to decide.
[Voice from the dumb-as fishes: "But there ain't no chairman yet."]
JARLAND. Sol Potter's chairman.
FREMAN. No, 'e ain't.
MORSE. Yes, 'e is--'e's chairman till this second old meetin' gets on the go.
FREMAN. I deny that. What du yu say, Mr. Trustaford?
TRUSTAFORD. I can't 'ardly tell. It du zeem a darned long-sufferin'
sort of a business altogether.
[A silence.]
MORSE. [Slowly] Tell 'ee what 'tis, us shan't du no gude like this.
G.o.dLEIGH. 'Tes for Mr. Freman or Mr. Trustaford, one or t'other to withdraw their motions.
TRUSTAFORD. [After a pause, with cautious generosity] I've no objections to withdrawin' mine, if Will Freman'll withdraw his'n.
FREMAN. I won't never be be'indhand. If Mr. Trustaford withdraws, I withdraws mine.
MORSE. [With relief] That's zensible. Putt the motion to the meetin'.
SOL POTTER. There ain't no motion left to putt.
[Silence of consternation.]
[In the confusion Jim BERE is seen to stand up.]
G.o.dLEIGH. Jim Bere to spike. Silence for Jim!
VOICES. Aye! Silence for Jim!
SOL POTTER. Well, Jim?
JIM. [Smiling and slow] Nothin' duin'.
TRUSTAFORD. Bravo, Jim! Yu'm right. Best zense yet!
[Applause from the dumb-as-fishes.]
[With his smile brightening, JIM resumes his seat.]
SOL POTTER. [Wiping his brow] Du seem to me, gentlemen, seem' as we'm got into a bit of a tangle in a manner of spakin', 'twid be the most zimplest and vairest way to begin all over vrom the beginnin', so's t'ave it all vair an' square for every one.
[In the uproar Of "Aye" and "No," it is noticed that TIBBY JARLAND is standing in front of her father with her finger, for want of something better, in her mouth.]
TIBBY. [In her stolid voice] Please, sister Mercy says, curate 'ave got to "Lastly." [JARLAND picks her up, and there is silence.] An'
please to come quick.
JARLAND. Come on, mates; quietly now!
[He goes out, and all begin to follow him.]
MORSE. [Slowest, save for SOL POTTER] 'Tes rare lucky us was all agreed to hiss the curate afore us began the botherin' old meetin', or us widn' 'ardly 'ave 'ad time to settle what to du.
SOL POTTER. [Scratching his head] Aye, 'tes rare lucky; but I dunno if 'tes altogether reg'lar.
CURTAIN.
SCENE III
The village green before the churchyard and the yew-trees at the gate. Into the pitch dark under the yews, light comes out through the half-open church door. Figures are lurking, or moving stealthily--people waiting and listening to the sound of a voice speaking in the church words that are inaudible.
Excited whispering and faint giggles come from the deepest yew-tree shade, made ghostly by the white faces and the frocks of young girls continually flitting up and back in the blackness. A girl's figure comes flying out from the porch, down the path of light, and joins the stealthy group.
WHISPERING VOICE of MERCY. Where's 'e got to now, Gladys?
WHISPERING VOICE OF GLADYS. 'E've just finished.
VOICE OF CONNIE. Whu pushed t'door open?