Plays of William E. Henley and R.L. Stevenson Part 35

MISS FOSTER. The wood-note wild: a loyal c.u.mbrian, Menteith.

MENTEITH. Eh? Quite so, madam.

MISS FOSTER. When she has seen as much of the Royal Family as you, my good fellow, she will find it vastly less entertaining.

MENTEITH. Yes, madam, indeed; In these distinguished circles, life is but a slavery. None of the best set would relish Tunbridge without Mr.

George; Tunbridge and Mr. George (if you'll excuse my plainness, madam) are in a manner of speaking identified; and indeed it was the Dook's desire alone that brought us here.

BARBARA. What? the Duke? O dear! was it for that?

MENTEITH. Though, to be sure, madam, Mr. George would always be charmed to find himself (_bowing_) among so many admired members of his own set.

MISS FOSTER. Upon my word, Menteith, Mr. Austin is as fortunate in his servant as his reputation.

MENTEITH. Quite so, madam. But let me observe that the opportunities I have had of acquiring a knowledge of Mr. George's character have been positively unrivalled. n.o.body knows Mr. George like his old attendant.

The goodness of that gentleman-but, madam, you will soon be equally fortunate, if, as I understand, it is to be a match.

MISS FOSTER. I hope, Menteith, you are not taking leave of your senses.

Is it possible you mean my niece?

MENTEITH. Madam, I have the honour to congratulate you. I put a second curl in Mr. George's hair on purpose.

SCENE II

_To these_, AUSTIN. MENTEITH _falls back_, _and_ AUSTIN _takes his place in front of_ MISS FOSTER, _his att.i.tude a counterpart of_ MENTEITH'S.

AUSTIN. Madam, I hasten to present my homage.

MISS FOSTER. A truce to compliments! Menteith, your charming fellow there, has set me positively crazy. Dear George Austin, is it true? can it be true?

AUSTIN. Madam, if he has been praising your niece he has been well inspired. If he was speaking, as I spoke an hour ago myself, I wish, Miss Foster, that he had held his tongue. I have indeed offered myself to Miss Dorothy, and she, with the most excellent reason, has refused me.

MISS FOSTER. Is it possible? why, my dear George Austin . . . then I suppose it is John Fenwick after all!

AUSTIN. Not one of us is worthy.

MISS FOSTER. This is the most amazing circ.u.mstance. You take my breath away. My niece refuse George Austin? why, I give you my word, I thought she had adored you. A perfect scandal: it positively must not get abroad.

AUSTIN. Madam, for that young lady I have a singular regard. Judge me as tenderly as you can, and set it down, if you must, to an old man's vanity-for, Evelina, we are no longer in the heyday of our youth-judge me as you will: I should prefer to have it known.

MISS FOSTER. Can you? George Austin, you? My youth was nothing; I was a failure; but for you? no, George, you never can, you never must be old.

You are the triumph of my generation, George, and of our old friendship too. Think of my first dance and my first partner. And to have this story-no, I could not bear to have it told of you.

AUSTIN. Madam, there are some ladies over whom it is a boast to have prevailed; there are others whom it is a glory to have loved. And I am so vain, dear Evelina, that even thus I am proud to link my name with that of Dorothy Musgrave.

MISS FOSTER. George, you are changed. I would not know you.

AUSTIN. I scarce know myself. But pardon me, dear friend (_taking his watch_), in less than four minutes our ill.u.s.trious guest will descend amongst us; and I observe Mr. Fenwick, with whom I have a pressing business. Suffer me, dear Evelina!-

SCENE III

_To these_, FENWICK. MISS FOSTER _remains seated_, _L._ AUSTIN _goes R.

to_ FENWICK, _whom he salutes with great respect_

AUSTIN. Mr. Fenwick, I have played and lost. That n.o.ble lady, justly incensed at my misconduct, has condemned me. Under the burden of such a loss, may I console myself with the esteem of Mr. Fenwick?

FENWICK. She refused you? Pardon me, sir, but was the fault not yours?

AUSTIN. Perhaps to my shame, I am no novice, Mr. Fenwick; but I have never felt nor striven as to-day. I went upon your errand; but, you may trust me, sir, before I had done I found it was my own. Until to-day I never rightly valued her; sure, she is fit to be a queen. I have a remorse here at my heart to which I am a stranger. Oh! that was a brave life, that was a great heart that I have ruined.

FENWICK. Ay, sir, indeed.

AUSTIN. But, sir, it is not to lament the irretrievable that I intrude myself upon your leisure. There is something to be done, to save, at least to spare, that lady. You did not fail to observe the brother?

FENWICK. No, sir, he knows all; and being both intemperate and ignorant-

AUSTIN. Surely. I know. I have to ask you then to find what friends you can among this company; and if you have none, to make them. Let everybody hear the news. Tell it (if I may offer the suggestion) with humour: how Mr. Austin, somewhat upon the wane, but still filled with sufficiency, gloriously presumed and was most ingloriously set down by a young lady from the north: the lady's name a secret, which you will permit to be divined. The laugh-the position of the hero-will make it circulate;-you perceive I am in earnest;-and in this way I believe our young friend will find himself forestalled.

FENWICK. Mr. Austin, I would not have dared to ask so much of you; I will go further: were the positions changed, I should fear to follow your example.

AUSTIN. Child, child, you could not afford it.

SCENE IV

_To there_, _the_ ROYAL DUKE, _C._; _then_, _immediately_, ANTHONY, _L._ FENWICK _crosses to_ MISS FOSTER, _R._ AUSTIN _accosts the_ DUKE, _C._, _in dumb show_; _the muted strings take up a new air_, _Mozart's_ '_Anglaise_'; _couples pa.s.sing under the limes_, _and forming a group behind_ AUSTIN _and the_ DUKE. ANTHONY _in front_, _L._, _watches_ AUSTIN, _who_, _as he turns from the_ DUKE, _sees him_, _and comes forward with extended hand_

AUSTIN. Dear child, let me present you to his Royal Highness.

ANTHONY (_with necklace_). Mr. Austin, do you recognise the bribe you gave my sister's maid?

AUSTIN. Hush, sir, hush! you forget the presence of the Duke.

ANTHONY. Mr. Austin, you are a coward and a scoundrel.

AUSTIN. My child, you will regret these words: I refuse your quarrel.

ANTHONY. You do? Take that. (_He strikes_ AUSTIN _on the mouth_. _At the moment of the blow_-)

SCENE V