Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence (Illustrated), page 699
BRENTNALL: Did I kiss her?
THE LADY: “Did I kiss her?” No, no, you poor dear, you didn’t kiss her.
BRENTNALL: You mean I am drunk.
THE LADY: Are you drunk? No!
BRENTNALL: I am slightly tipsy, more with dancing than drink. Shall I come away?
THE LADY: Shall he come away — oh, you dear! Why should I decide for you?
BRENTNALL: Are you cross?
THE LADY: Not in the least. Go and kiss Sally if you will.
BRENTNALL: Poor Sally — I don’t want to kiss her now.
THE LADY: How perfectly lovely! Do introduce me.
BRENTNALL: Mr Magneer, Sally Magneer, Emily Calladine, Ada Calladine, Jack Magneer, Dr Grainger — all of you, Elsa Smith.
ELSA: How awfully nice! Can I come in?
MR MAGNEER (springing up and bowing tipsily): Make yourself at ‘ome, you’re very welcome, Miss, you’re very welcome.
ELSA: Thank you so much! I should love to dance. I’ve got two friends in the motor car. May I fetch them?
MR MAGNEER: Anybody you like, they’re all welcome here, and there’s plenty to drink for all.
ELSA: So nice!
Exit ELSA.
GRAINGER: Who the devil —
BRENTNALL: My betrothed, my fiancée, my girl.
CHORUS OF WOMEN: You don’t mean it!
SALLY: Well! Men — !
ADA: Men?
EMILY: Men!
MR MAGNEER: Ooh — you’re done this time, Billy!
GRAINGER: Well, you devil, Billy Brentnall!
JACK: It’s a corker, Billy, it’s a winder.
EMILY: Are you any better, Jack?
JACK (fiercely): Look here, Dad. I’m engaged to Emily here, fair and square.
MR MAGNEER: Come here, Em’ler my ducky, come hither. (EMILY goes very reluctantly. He kisses her.) I like thee, Em’ler, I like thee. (Kisses her again.)
JACK: Cheese it, Dad.
MR MAGNEER: It’s a winder, it is an’ all. — An’ aren’t you goin’ to be engaged an’ all, Dr Grainger?
GRAINGER: Not this time.
MR MAGNEER: Hm! ‘Appen you are engaged!
GRAINGER: No, I’m not.
MR MAGNEER: Come then, come then, come then.
Re-enter ELSA SMITH, with a lady and gentleman.
ELSA: All of you — Gladys and Tom. Gladys — That’s Will —
MR MAGNEER: Ay, ay, Billy! Billy! (It amuses him highly.)
BRENTNALL (bowing): I was to come to dinner to-night, I clean forgot. Don’t be angry.
TOM: Cheek, if no more.
ELSA: Oh, you don’t know Will, you don’t.
MR MAGNEER: An you don’t know Billy, Miss, it strikes me. (Laughter)
BRENTNALL: Leave me alone — I say, Elsa, Jack (pointing) has just got engaged to Emily.
ELSA: How perfectly charming. I love it all so much.
BRENTNALL: What?
ELSA: You — this.
BRENTNALL: Take your cloak off.
Helps her. She is a handsome woman, large, blonde, about 30 — dressed for dinner. Tom and Gladys disrobe — they are in dinner dress also.
TOM (cynically): I suppose these are adventures.
GLADYS: Don’t be a fool, Tom.
ELSA: This is fun.
BRENTNALL: Will you dance with me, Elsa?
ELSA: No, I won’t.
BRENTNALL: Angry with me?
ELSA: No. I can dance with you any day.
GRAINGER: May I have the pleasure?
ELSA: No — forgive me (very kindly) — but I do want to dance with Jack. (To EMILY.) May I?
EMILY: Certainly. (JACK pulls a face.)
ELSA: He doesn’t want me — but I won’t let him off — no.
JACK: I’m shy, as a matter of fact.
ELSA: How lovely!
MR MAGNEER (to GLADYS): Now Miss, you choose.
GLADYS: Will, you must dance with me.
BRENTNALL (going to her side): You are shy.
MR MAGNEER: Now Ada, your turn to pick.
ADA looks wickedly at TOM — he bows.
TOM: Thank you.
ADA: Are you shy? (She laughs wickedly.)
MR MAGNEER: Now for Dr Grainger. (He holds his fists to EMILY.) Which of ‘em? (EMILY touches the right fist.) Wrong! (Showing a coin in his left.) Sally gets him.
SALLY: Sally doesn’t.
GRAINGER: Come on, Sally.
MR MAGNEER: Now then, what is it?
BRENTNALL: Waltz.
The comb begins to buzz — the partners set off dancing — MR MAGNEER breaks the time — they laugh — he beckons EMILY, holds the comb in one hand, her with the other, and dances prancingly, buzzing breathlessly.
CURTAIN
ACT IV
The bedroom in the cottage, same as Act I. It is nine o’clock in the morning. GRAINGER and BRENTNALL are in bed.
GRAINGER: Billy! (No answer.) You mean to say you’re at it yet? (No answer.) Well, I’ll be damned; you’re a better sleeper even than a liar. (No answer.) Oh strike! (Shies a pillow at BRENTNALL.)
BRENTNALL: What the — !
GRAINGER: I should say so.
BRENTNALL: Dog in the manger! Go to sleep. I loathe the small hours. Oh-h! (Yawns.)
GRAINGER: Small hours, begad! It’s past nine o’clock.
BRENTNALL (half asleep): Early, frostily early.
GRAINGER: You mean to say — ! (He shies the bolster, viciously.)
BRENTNALL: Don’t, George! (Sleeps.)
GRAINGER: Devil! (Shies slippers, one after the other.)
BRENTNALL (sitting up suddenly — furious): Go to blazes! (Lies down again.)
GRAINGER: If you go to sleep again, Billy B., I’ll empty the water bottle over you — I will.
BRENTNALL: I’m not asleep.
GRAINGER: Billy!
BRENTNALL: What?
GRAINGER: Did you square Sally?
BRENTNALL: Eh?
GRAINGER: No, look here, Billy —
BRENTNALL (stretching his arms): Georgie, you ought to be dead.
GRAINGER: I’ve no doubt. Billy Brentnall!
BRENTNALL: What?
GRAINGER: Did you square Sally?
BRENTNALL: Sally — Sally — Sally —
GRAINGER: Chuck it, fool.
BRENTNALL: I don’t know.
GRAINGER: What d’you mean?
BRENTNALL: I told her you were a married man with a family, and begad, you look it —
GRAINGER: That’s not the point.
BRENTNALL: I apologize. I say to Sally: “He’s a married man.” Sally says to me: “He’s not.” I say: “He is.” Sally says: “I’m dizzy.” I say: “You might well be.”
GRAINGER: Chuck it, do chuck it.
BRENTNALL: It’s the solemn fact. And our confab ended there.
GRAINGER: It did!
BRENTNALL: It did.
GRAINGER: Hm!
BRENTNALL: You’re going to London to my rooms, aren’t you?
GRAINGER: You say so.
BRENTNALL: Very well then — there’s an end of Sally.
GRAINGER: I’m not so sure.
BRENTNALL: Why?
GRAINGER: She said she was coming round here.
BRENTNALL: When?
GRAINGER: This morning.
BRENTNALL: Then don’t get up till this afternoon, and then belt for the station.
GRAINGER: I’ve not settled up at the Surgery.
BRENTNALL: Thou bungler — has Sally really got a case against you?
GRAINGER: She’s got a case against some man or other, and she’d prefer it to be me.
BRENTNALL: But she must see you’re quite a cold egg. And has Charlie Greenhalgh really cried off?
GRAINGER: No — at least — poor old Charlie’s in a bit of a mess.
BRENTNALL: How?
GRAINGER: He was secretary to the football club — and he falsified the balance sheet, and failed to produce about fifteen quid.
BRENTNALL: He’s not in a very rosy condition for marriage. However, old Magneer’s not short of money?
GRAINGER: He isn’t, begad!
BRENTNALL: Alright — let him work the oracle. Sally’s no fool — and she’ll be just as well, married to Charlie. You say his farm is going to the dogs. Alright, she’ll shoo the dogs off.
GRAINGER: Very nice.
BRENTNALL: I think so.
GRAINGER: Who’s that?
BRENTNALL: Dunno — get under the bed-clothes.
Sound of footsteps — enter JACK MAGNEER.
JACK: Letting the day get well aired?
BRENTNALL: I don’t believe in running risks through the chill, damp air of early morning.
JACK: I s’d think you don’t.
BRENTNALL: Take a seat.
JACK: So you’re going to-day, George?
GRAINGER: I am, Jack — and sorry to leave you.
JACK: What’s this our Sally’s been telling me?
GRAINGER: Couldn’t say, Jack.
JACK: As you’re married —
BRENTNALL: And got a kid, quite right.
JACK: Is it, George?
GRAINGER: I believe so.
JACK: Hm! (A pause.)
BRENTNALL: Well, Jack, say he has your sympathy.
JACK: Yis — yis — he has. But I’m not so sure —
BRENTNALL: Eh Jack, it’s a hole we might any of us slip into.
JACK: Seemingly. But why didn’t you tell me, George?
BRENTNALL: Don’t, Jack. Don’t you see, I could give the whole of that recitation. “We’ve been good friends, George, and you’d no need to keep me in the dark like that. It’s a false position for me, as well as for you, etc., etc.” That’s what you want to say?
JACK: Yis — and besides —
BRENTNALL: Well, look here, Jack, you might have done it yourself. George was let in down at Wolverhampton — kicked out of the town because he owned up and married the girl — hadn’t either a penny or a job — girl has a good home. Would you have wanted to tell the whole story to these prating fools round here?
JACK: No, I can’t say as I should. But then —
BRENTNALL: Then what?
JACK: There’s our Sally, and there’s Annie —
BRENTNALL: What about ‘em?
JACK: He’s courted ‘em both — they’re both up to the eyes in love with him —
BRENTNALL: Not Annie. On the quiet, she’s rather gone on me. I showed George up in his true light to her.
GRAINGER: Rotter — rotter!
BRENTNALL: And I stepped into the limelight, and the trick was done.
JACK: You’re a devil, Billy. — But look here, George, our Sally —
GRAINGER: Yes —
JACK: She’s — she’s gone a long way —
BRENTNALL (quietly): How do you mean, Jack?
JACK: Well, she’s given up Charlie Greenhalgh —
BRENTNALL: Not quite. And you know, Jack, she really loves Charlie, at the bottom. There’s something fascinating about George.
GRAINGER: Damn your eyes, shut up, Billy.
BRENTNALL: There’s something fascinating about George. He can’t help it. The women melt like wax before him. They’re all over him. It’s not his beauty, it’s his manliness. He can’t help it.
GRAINGER: I s’ll smash you, Billy Brentnall, if you don’t shut up.
JACK: Yis, there’s something in it, George.
BRENTNALL: There is, Jack. Well, he can’t help himself, so you’ve got to help him. It’s no good hitting him when he’s down.
JACK: I’m not hitting him.
BRENTNALL: And what you’ve got to do, you’ve got to get Charlie Greenhalgh and your Sally together again.
JACK: Me! — It’s nowt to do with me.
BRENTNALL: Yes, it has. Charlie’s not been up to your place lately, has he?
JACK: No.
BRENTNALL: And do you know why?
JACK: Yis.
BRENTNALL: It’s not so much because of George. Have you heard he’s fifteen quid out with the football club.
JACK: I’ve heard a whisper.
BRENTNALL: Well, you help him, Jack, for Sally’s sake. She loves him, Jack, she does. And if she married him quick, she’ll pull him through, for she seems to have a business head on her, and a farming head.
JACK: She has that.
BRENTNALL: Well, you’ll do what you can for poor old Charlie, won’t you?
JACK: I will, Billy. And what time are you going?
BRENTNALL: 2.50 train.
JACK: Well — me and you’s been good pals, George. I must say I’d ha’ done anything for you —
GRAINGER: I know you would, Jack.
JACK: Yis, an’ I would — an’ I would.
BRENTNALL: I’m going up to Blythe Hall against Ashbourne for a day or two, Jack. Shall you come up for tennis?
JACK: I hardly think so — we s’ll be busy just now.
BRENTNALL: Sunday afternoon — yes you will.
JACK: Good-bye, Billy.
BRENTNALL: Au revoir, Jack.
JACK: Well — good-bye, George — lad. We’ve not done amiss while you’ve been here. I s’ll miss thee.
GRAINGER: You’ve been alright to me, Jack.
JACK: Yis — I try to do what I can for folks.
Exit JACK.
BRENTNALL: The atmosphere clears, George.
GRAINGER: Oh damn you, shut up.
BRENTNALL: “Oh, what a sin is base ingratitude!”
GRAINGER: What did you tell Annie about me?
BRENTNALL: I said you were quite manly, and couldn’t help yourself; all the virtues of good nature and so on, but a bit of a libidinous goat.
GRAINGER: Thank you — very nice of you.
BRENTNALL: Add to this that you won’t face a situation, but always funk it, and you understand why Annie suddenly transferred her affections to me. For I showed myself, by contrast, a paragon of all virtues.
GRAINGER: You would.
BRENTNALL: I did.
GRAINGER: I shan’t go to London to your rooms.
BRENTNALL: Now George, my dear chap — —
GRAINGER: I shall not, Billy.
BRENTNALL: Then where will you go?
GRAINGER: Hell!
BRENTNALL: My dear, dear fellow, you’ve neither the cash nor the ability.
GRAINGER: Well, you’re a —
BRENTNALL: Shall we get up?
GRAINGER: I will, whether you will or not. (Sits on the side of the bed whistling “On the Banks of Allan Water”. Footsteps on the stairs — enter GRAINGER’S wife, ETHEL — rather thin, with a light costume.)
ETHEL: George! (She goes forward and kisses him, not noticing BRENTNALL.) George! (Sinks her head on his shoulder.) George!
GRAINGER: Ethel — well I’m blessed! (Kisses her.)
ETHEL (drawing away): I had to come.
GRAINGER: Yes.
ETHEL: Are you angry?
GRAINGER: Me angry! What should I be angry for?
ETHEL: I thought you might be.
GRAINGER: What made you come?
ETHEL: I heard you were going away — and your letters seemed so constrained. Are you — ?
GRAINGER: What?
ETHEL: Going away?
GRAINGER: I s’ll have to — this job’s done.
