The Princess
Zoubaroff
by Ronald Firbank
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
ADRIAN SHEIL-MEYER
ERIC TRESILIAN
LORD ORKISH
MONSIGNOR VANHOVE
REGGIE QUINTUS
ANGELO
NADINE SHEIL-MEYER
ENID TRESILIAN
LADY ROCKTOWER
GLYDA, her
daughter
MARCHESA
PITTI-CONTI
DANTE SILVIO
PAOLAO, her son
MRS NEGRESS
MRS MANGROVE
PRINCESS ZOUBAROFF
ACT I
SCENE I
Florence. Early
summer. The garden of the Casa Meyer. Oleanders, giant Ilex, Judas-trees,
flowering hibiscus. A few long green palms. In their blue shade a peacock or
two. A pillared circle of Bougainvillea-wreathed arches supporting a hammock R. through which a portion of the house can
be seen. Within the circle, a faded-marble statue, representing an effigy of
the Virgin Mary, and a miscellaneous array of easy chairs, two or three, and a
portable table holding magazines and books, extending down. A rustic arch L.
leading to roadway. Distant prospect, Florence. Time, afternoon.
ADRIAN, ERIC
ERIC: Where are
they?
ADRIAN: Nadine and
Enid have gone hunting together.
ERIC: Hunting?
ADRIAN: For
Antiques.
ERIC: Poking round
for Antiques—and we've been barely married a week. [ADRIAN shrugs.] Our
marriage is manqué!
ADRIAN: This
little jaunt of ours ought to clear the air.
ERIC: Do you know,
I believe Enid would be positively glad if I didn't return to her again?
ADRIAN: She seemed
quite bright at lunch.
ERIC: Precisely.
ADRIAN [laughing]:
Between ourselves, I begin to fear we've both made mistakes!
ERIC: I'm glad you
can laugh.
ADRIAN: I can't
help it.
ERIC: Thank
goodness we shall start tomorrow without them.
ADRIAN: Yes.
Nadine loathes the Engadine. Mountains depress her nature.
ERIC: Do all
mountains?
ADRIAN: Anything
she can't see over.
ERIC: Their
rarefied atmosphere braces me. I'm never so well as in it.
ADRIAN: It can be
had, as well, at home. [Picking up a book, which he scans.] "She
read romances night and day, and wished to live them, after the fashion of the
shepherds of Astrea; she slept upon a sofa painted like grass, and in a room
representing trees and sheepfolds; and when the Beloved arrived, she would
softly recite the Eclogues of Fontanelle, would talk of tender flames
the sensitive heart, and dish up all the mawkishness of the Operas."
ERIC: Princess
Zoubaroff has been lending mia moglie some books.
ADRIAN: One's
inclined to be diffident of her influence!
ERIC: Her heart's
desire now, I'm told, is to make her Peace with heaven.
ADRIAN: I know of
nothing more dangerous; but I can scarcely believe it.
ERIC: One hears
strange stories of her—Rumours, in fact.
ADRIAN: She
fascinates Nadine and Enid! And here they are.
SCENE II
Same. NADINE SHEIL-MEYER loaded with
bric-a-brac. ENID TRESILIAN. Both are ultra beautifully dressed. MRS
SHElL-MEYER's hat is one mass of quivering grasses.
NADINE: Don't
bother.
ENID [airily
helping her]: An imaginary footman helps.
ADRIAN: What have
you been getting?
ENID: Such
enthralling things.
ERIC: Let's see.
NADINE: No, no,
no, no.
ADRIAN: Peevish!
ENID: She is
fagged, I fear, by our expedition.
NADINE [indignantly]:
I'm not.
ENID: We've been
to Ishmael Levy!
ADRIAN: Ah! Beware
of fakes.
ENID [superiorly]:
He offered us a Lucia Bearing her Eyes upon a Dish—a supposed
original of Masaccio, and a fantastic Moreau like some strong perfume.
ADRIAN: He did?
ENID: A head and
hands business.
ADRIAN: Oh?
ENID: And who
should there enter as we were glancing round but Blanche!
ERIC: Blanche?
ENID: Blanche
Negress.
ERIC: Who's she?
ENID: ... But so
charming and so different to the rest!
ERIC: Then she must
be refreshing.
NADINE: What
induced you to ask her here this evening, Enid, by the way?
ENID: Because I
thought it might be fun. You know she writes things for the papers.
ADRIAN: What sort
of things?
ENID: Oh, don't
ask me what sort of things.
NADINE [throwing
her purchases down upon a table]: She was telling us at the Bretagne they
charge her more to board her Great Dane than they do for her maid.
ERIC: Perhaps it
eats more!
NADINE: Talking of
eating—do you wish for a collation at daybreak before you start?
ADRIAN: No,
thanks.
ENID: You're
packed?
ERIC: Not quite.
ENID: Could I do
anything?
ERIC: It's good of
you, dear, but there's practically nothing to do.
NADINE [inquisitively]:
I suppose you're feeling pleasurably excited at the thoughts of tomorrow?
ERIC: Why not?
ENID: Remember,
won't you, Eric, to gather a little Edelweiss if you should notice any.
NADINE: Yes; don't
forget that.
ENID: Though no
accidents, mind.
NADINE: Naturally.
ERIC [nettled,
his anger rising]: Say out straight what you mean, can't you?
ENID: What I mean?
ERIC: I don't go
in for arrière pensées.
ENID: Really,
Eric, your hypersensitiveness would try an archangel, I think.
ERIC: Oh! Would
it?
NADINE [disdainfully]:
Poor child, don't mind him! One knows his bowwow ways.
ENID: I'll not be
long, dear [kissing her finger-tips to her]. I've a very little letter I
must write.
NADINE: Must you?
ENID [moving
towards house]: Just a few hurried flying lines ....
ERIC [following
her]: And I've some business too! ...
SCENE III
ADRIAN, NADINE
[their Married voices]
NADINE: I could
laugh when I think of her answering congratulatory letters still!
ADRIAN: She's
having rather a pale sort of honeymoon apparently.
NADINE: If she's
neglected, whose fault is it?
ADRIAN: You surely
don't think it's mine!
NADINE: I do.
ADRIAN [ominously]:
You dare to say that?
NADINE [with
intention]: Don't let's repeat Egypt!
ADRIAN [shuddering]:
Not for the universe.
NADINE: He'd
better look out. She's just in the mood for fireworks.
ADRIAN: Is she?—the
deuce.
NADINE: I know
Enid better than Eric. [Mysteriously:] She and I were at school
together.
ADRIAN: What
possessed you to ask her here for her honeymoon?
NADINE [sentimentally
staring at the tip of her shoe]: Because—I don't
know!—I wished to
lend her a little support. ... Chaperone her, so to speak, the difficult first
days. Poor darling! She had nobody. She was very unhappy at home.
ADRIAN [blatantly]:
Eric and I—we too were at school together.
NADINE: Bah! Don't
talk to me of Eric.
ADRIAN: He was my
friend.
NADINE: What do I
care?
ADRIAN: You
tiresome woman.
NADINE: How dare
you call me "tiresome"?
ENID [returning]:
Excuse me, Nadine, but what is Charlotte's address?
NADINE: Coombe
Court, Straithfieldsaye.
ENID: And Elsie?
NADINE: Five Rue
Sganarelle ....
ENID: Oh, thank
you, dear. [She goes in.]
NADINE: I can't bear
to see her look so bored.
ADRIAN: Bored!
NADINE: Poor
little soul. It makes one weep to look at her.
ADRIAN: I never
saw anyone so ... [looking].
NADINE: What?
ADRIAN: Nothing.
NADINE [putting
up her sunshade]: I believe you were going to insult her!
ADRIAN [horror-struck]:
I?
NADINE [in
indignant yet not displeased tones]: I fancy you were about to say
something unkind.
ADRIAN [pointedly]:
Oh, that I leave to your Florentine friends!
NADINE: To whom do
you refer?
ADRIAN [lighting
a cigarette]: I refer to Lord Orkish ....
NADINE: Ah!
ADRIAN: And to Mrs
du Wilson ....
NADINE: Oh!
ADRIAN: And to
Zena Zoubaroff.
NADINE: Zena? But
Zena adores Enid.
ADRIAN: Rot!
NADINE: She adores
her.
[The garden
gate opens and the PRINCESS
ZOUBAROFF, a very pale, vaguely "sinister-looking" woman of about
thirty-five, enters. She wears a riding-habit, rather Vanloo, fringed with
sables. In lieu of a riding-crop she holds a fan.]
PRINCESS: I just
looked in to say good-bye!
SCENE IV
ADRIAN, NADINE,
PRINCESS
ADRIAN [gallantly]:
What a charming surprise!
NADINE: We were
this moment speaking of you, dear!
PRINCESS [coming
forward]: Of me? Oh? ... And what were you saying of me?
NADINE: I was
telling Adrian how fond of Enid you seemed.
PRINCESS: How
could one help loving her?
ADRIAN [solicitously]:
Well? And what have you been doing?
PRINCESS [glowing]:
I'm just back from oh, such a heavenly ride. Halfway to Vallombrosa!
NADINE: But wasn't
it grilling?
ADRIAN [matter
of fact]: We may expect a storm before morning, I think.
PRINCESS [drawing
off her gloves]: Rain is needed badly.
NADINE: It would
do the young vines good.
ADRIAN: And the
garden too ... .
PRINCESS: Yours is
a Paradise .... Those purple, tragic roses .... Tell me, how are they named?
ADRIAN: I forget.
PRINCESS [poetically]:
I love the Flowers. They talk to me. I love the Birds. They sing to me!
NADINE: What have
they told you—if it's not indiscreet?
PRINCESS [elusively]:
They say that Opera-cloaks this Spring are going to make one seven good
feet across the shoulders.
NADINE: Ah?
PRINCESS: And that
sandals shortly are coming in ....
NADINE: What else?
PRINCESS [stooping]:
Let me admire your heliotropes.
ADRIAN [flatteringly]:
Your own garden, Princess, you know, is all our envy.
PRINCESS [sighing]:
This year I'm very vain of my pomegranates!
ADRIAN: I don't
wonder.
PRINCESS: My
beloved garden. You should see it early, at break of day, when Dawn makes its
white holes through the trees.
NADINE [succinctly]:
Perhaps tomorrow they will.
PRINCESS: And so
you're really off?
ADRIAN: Yes.
PRINCESS: To those
ridiculous mountains?
ADRIAN: Why do you
say ridiculous?
PRINCESS: Aren't
they?
ADRIAN: Not that
I'm aware of.
PRINCESS: I am
always disappointed with mountains. There are no mountains in the world as high
as I could wish.
ADRIAN: No?
PRINCESS: They
irritate me invariably. I should like to shake Switzerland.
[Looks at her
hands.]
NADINE: You have
the perfectest hands, Zena.
PRINCESS [wistfully]:
Have I?
NADINE: You know
you have.
PRINCESS: How
Ingres admired my hands. He quite worshipped my little fingers.
SCENE V
Same. ENID
ENID: I can't
write letters while Eric is fidgeting about.
NADINE [whispering]:
Wait till we're Alone tomorrow.
ENID: Yes. I think
so. Oh, Zena! [Goes to her.]
PRINCESS [regarding
her with pensive interest]: You look done-in, dear; totally done-in.
ENID: Do I?
PRINCESS: Those
great fatigued eyes ....
NADINE: She does
far too much! Last night she was chasing bats after midnight with a long white
rosary.
PRINCESS: Have you
seen yet all the inevitable sights?
ENID: Oh heavens,
no. Beyond a few churches, I've seen nothing whatever.
PRINCESS: Really?
ENID: Imagine, I
haven't been at all to the Bargello.
PRINCESS: I was
there one morning lately with one of the Hope girls.
ENID: Oh?
PRINCESS: It was
dreadful. She would scream at everything that attracted her, and fall
upon her knees ... and kiss and touch the things.
NADINE [with
decision]: I consider the eldest Miss Hope's a disgrace to England! You see
her woolgathering about the streets garbed in an old violet velvet sack, her
hat set crooked, crammed with flowers.
PRINCESS: Yes! And
Tozhy too's a sight.
ENID: Tozhy?
PRINCESS: Mr Hope—the
"Father" of the English colony, you know.
ENID: Of course.
He is going to show me some time where one can get Venetian glass!
PRINCESS [leaning
on the back of a garden chair]: I have passed through all the fads, I
suppose, myself in furniture and pictures and books. And now all I ask for's a
cell. Give me a room with nothing in it!
ENID: How horribly
dull.
ADRIAN: It must
need courage to be so eclectic?
PRINCESS: Not
really. [With vivacity:] I often think I would rather like to run a
Convent.
ENID: Oh, Zena!
PRINCESS: For
little girls—not for sour old women.
ADRIAN: Have you
remarked the cosmopolitanised faces of the Nuns one meets hereabouts?
PRINCESS: No.
ADRIAN: It's so
curious.
PRINCESS [beating
the air dreamily with her fan]: Florence—I always say it's a place one
drifts to in the end!
ADRIAN: It's a
pity perhaps so many—what shall I say—people do.
PRINCESS [with
a swift, bright look]: I hear Reggie Quintus is in the town—looking quite
lawless.
ADRIAN: Reggie?
NADINE: Qh!
PRINCESS: Lady
Rocktower saw him.
NADINE: One would
like to be kind to the boy on account of his poor darling mother—but it's a
little difficult to, all the same.
PRINCESS [critically]:
He has the manners of one who has nothing to lose and perhaps something to
gain.
NADINE: Perhaps.
PRINCESS: He's so
good-looking—too good-looking for a man.
ADRIAN: I don't
intend ever having anything to do with him.
PRINCESS: No?
Well, perhaps you're wise.
ENID [looking
towards house]: Why's Eric beckoning?
ADRIAN: I expect
he wants his revenge at billiards!
NADINE [sweetly]:
Go to him, then, won't you, dear? Don't mind us!
ADRIAN: I will.
[Exit ADRIAN to house.]
SCENE VI
PRINCESS, NADINE,
ENID
ENID: This evening
I feel so reckless, so reckless. I could wear a forehead-ornament besides a
hat!
PRINCESS [fingering]:
Where did you get that love of a gown?
ENID: It was part
of my corbeille.
PRINCESS: My dear,
you have the instinct for dress. I never saw anything so perfect!
NADINE [exclaiming]:
Oh! ...
ENID: Is there
anything the matter?
NADINE: What have
you done with your wedding ring?
ENID: I took it
off.
NADINE: What for?
ENID: I don't mean
to wear one.
PRINCESS: But—my
dear!
NADINE: Nonsense.
You must!
ENID: Why?
NADINE: I insist.
ENID: Oh, of
course if you're really keen ...
PRINCESS: Where is
it?
ENID: On the
dressing-table in my room.
NADINE: I'll go
and find it at once.
[Exit NADINE to house.]
SCENE VII
PRINCESS, ENID
PRINCESS [a short
silence]: He has not been cruel?
ENID: No.
PRINCESS: You will
make a fatal mistake, dear Enid, if you allow him to go!
ENID [ unconvinced]:
Shall I?
PRINCESS: Remember
the Foreign Colony here is a very hornet's nest. ...
ENID: I can't help
it!
PRINCESS [putting
an arm about her]: How are you with him?
ENID: Since lunch
he and I are on tolerable terms again.
PRINCESS: Since
lunch? ...
ENID: After all,
it's really rather risible.
PRINCESS: I don't
consider it risible in the very least.
ENID: Not?
PRINCESS [emphatic]:
It's an unprecedented honeymoon—even for Florence!
ENID: Don't let's
grow solemn.
PRINCESS: In my
opinion, marriage was something altogether too excessive for such very light
desires.
ENID: Desires ....
[Smiling wanly:] Both he and I are dead to any wish.
PRINCESS: Don't
say SO.
ENID: Ah, but I
do.
PRINCESS: What
made you accept him, then? Tell me.
ENID: It was
purely a match of reason. At home I was generally in the way. Mamma and I were
nothing but rivals. But let's not talk about it.
PRINCESS [retrospective]:
As a raw girl, I'd a disrelish for marriage too. But my parents sensibly
made me. And when my first husband died, why, I soon remarried ... and when he,
poor fellow, succumbed—he was a world-renowned explorer—I was induced to listen
again .... [Slight pause.] And I've been married in all six times!
ENID [admiringly]:
What a wonderful accumulation of experience you must have, Zena?
PRINCESS: Yes. [Grimly:]
When I want to impress a stranger, I carry their miniatures on my wrists—three
on each arm.
ENID: Your last
marriage, was it happy?
PRINCESS: My last
marriage, my dear, was one long game of hide-and-seek.
ENID: I feel
discouraged!
PRINCESS: A
husband, one must remember, is something of an acquired taste.
be!
ENID: Are they all
alike?
PRINCESS: Why, of
course not!
ENID: Aren't they?
PRINCESS [nibbling
her Jan]: No. Really, you provoke me to laugh.
ENID: I've been
married a week and it isn't at all ~hat I thought it would
PRINCESS [tenderly]:
Poor darling. How I would love to spoil you.
ENID: You dear.
But you do ....
PRINCESS: Not
enough.
ENID: Oh, Zena!
PRINCESS [caressing
admiringly her hair]: Not nearly enough, Elf-locks.
ENID [coyly]: I'm
all foolish nerves tonight!
PRINCESS: Poor
Angel, Baby, Waif ....
ENID [closing
her eyes]: What would you advise?
PRINCESS: Make the
most of youth! Remember nothing lasts ....
ENID: You think I
should take a lover?
PRINCESS: No, no
... you'd regret it.
ENID: There's no
telling.
PRINCESS:
Eventually, of course, you'll build a bridge!
ENID: Impossible.
PRINCESS: Tfoo!
ENID: He's so
altered.
PRINCESS: How?
ENID: His tastes!
PRINCESS: They
jar?
ENID: Dreadfully.
His Hellenism once captivated me. But [opening her eyes gloomily as wide as
she is able] the Attic to him means nothing now but
Servants' bedrooms.
PRINCESS:
Servants' what?
ENID [faintly]:
Closets.
PRINCESS [behind
her Jan]: Oh!
ENID: It's
revolting.
PRINCESS [philosophically]:
In life, to be happy, the first rule is to learn pretty extensively to
ignore.
ENID: I suppose,
dearest, you were never situated before as I am?
PRINCESS [nodding]:
Yes, indeed! One of my husbands also left me!
ENID: Oh, Zena?
PRINCESS: Left me
even sooner than yours!
ENID: It isn't
credible!
PRINCESS: He said
a thousand tender pretty things, called me a thousand charming names. And then,
at the end of twenty-four hours, he deserted me!
ENID: What did you
do?
PRINCESS: What
could I do?
ENID: If Eric
deserts me, I dare say I could start an "Art School" here. It would
be rather fun.
PRINCESS: Darling
Enid, anything rather than that!
ENID [puzzled]:
But why?
PRINCESS: Because
...
SCENE VIII
Same. NADINE
NADINE [flourishing
wedding ring]: Here it is!
ENID: Oh, thank
you, Nadine.
NADINE: Put it on.
ENID [evasively]:
It's far too hot to wear a ring!
PRINCESS: Rubbish.
NADINE [suppliant]:
For me, dearest. Say you will!
ENID: Very well
then, I will!
PRINCESS [overbrimming
with quiet fun): How she dreads a scandal. ...
NADINE [her
sensitive panic patently subsiding]: Well, it's not quite pleasant, is it?
And foreign servants are such fools! They'd think it was a faux-menage, or
something.
ENID: As if I
care!
PRINCESS [urbane]:
Were I she, I'd allow myself, perhaps, sneer ....
ENID: I don't mean
to upset my expression on Eric's account.
PRINCESS: But only
a little tiny one.
ENID [toying
listlessly with her ring): Oh, don't ask me, please, to wear another thing
more—! Even a sneer.
PRINCESS: For his
good, one could wish he'd some interest. ... A man should have aspirations, I
always contend.
ENID: Ah, there,
my dear, I'm with you. When I think that one of Caligula's horses was a Member
of Parliament, and when I remember what a plain, simple cow rose to be, I own
I'm mortified at Eric's unambition.
PRINCESS [gasping]:
What did the plain, simple cow rise to be?
ENID: She rose to
be an Empress.
NADINE: An
Empress?
ENID: Or a
Goddess, was it? I'm sure I forget.
[A piano-organ
is heard suddenly beyond the garden gate.]
NADINE: Horrid to
be outdone by animals.
ENID [to dance
air, taking a few tripping steps]: Well, my dears! It's been a week of
wonders!
PRINCESS: What is
that?
NADINE [raising
her voice a little because of the organ]: She says it's been a week of
wonders.
PRINCESS: Poor
child! A week ago she was an insouciant girl!
NADINE:
Insouciant!
PRINCESS [watching
the bride with a mistrustful eye]: I only hope she won't take to narcotics!
NADINE: We must
not let her brood.
[The organ
stops.)
PRINCESS: One day
soon, Enid, let us ride together.
ENID: There's
nothing I'd like more, only I've nothing to ride, I'm afraid.
PRINCESS: I will
find you a charming little horse.
ENID [dropping
to her knees upon the grass]: What a darling you are!
PRINCESS [plying
her fan]: Galloping down some green cattle-track in the cool of evening,
child, you will soon forget your worries.
ENID [nestling]:
Your habit smells of Arcady ....
PRINCESS: Of what?
ENID: Arcady.
PRINCESS: Beyond
the Porta San Gallo I often dismount and walk.
ENID: Enchanting.
PRINCESS: There's
a road bordered by wild acacias I yearn to show you.
ENID [elated]: Yes?
PRINCESS: And at
its end there's a Calvary ... and a church designed by Andrea Orcagna with the
loveliest windows.
ENID: One might
perhaps do a sketch or something?
PRINCESS: The
green brightness of the glass is amazingly nice. And such touching mosaics
there are. You'll see!
[Enter through
arch L. LADY ROCKTOWER, an
uncommonly long and lean woman—once a well-known Beauty.)
SCENE IX
Same. LADY ROCKTOWER
LADY ROCKTOWER [hand
extended, advancing to NADINE): I wrote to you about a week ago asking you
to dinner, and having received no answer I thought I would ascertain ...
NADINE [retaining
LADY ROCKTOWER's hand captive in her own an instant in token of
contrition): Did I never answer?
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Both Lord Rocktower and I will be so disappointed if you fail us tomorrow
night!
NADINE: Tomorrow
night I fear we shall be without either Adrian or Eric.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Are they leaving Florence?
NADINE: Yes ....
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Dear me! I didn't know.
NADINE: They're
leaving us—and Italy.
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
trust nothing serious!
NADINE: Nothing
very.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
That's right. [To ENID:] My dear, what a foreign behind! I didn't
recognise you at first!
ENID [amused]: How
do you like my Cinquecento jacket?
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Your fastidious, imaginative dresses would not suit everyone.
ENID: Fortunately.
LADY ROCKTOWER [looking
about her]: Where's Glyda?
NADINE: I don't
know!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
She came a few yards with me, and suddenly exclaimed: "Oh, bother,"
and then rushed back.
PRINCESS: Your
daughter, I expect, will be here directly.
LADY ROCKTOWER [shaking
hands with PRINCESS very cordially]: Dear Princess! Although you
live within a stone's throw, one sees simply nothing of you!
PRINCESS: Yes. How
is it, I wonder?
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
don't remember ever having seen you at my Musicale?
PRINCESS:
Unfortunately .... But I hear it was quite wonderful. With Julie Bonbon and
Emma Block.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Who told you?
PRINCESS: Mr
Waterbird.
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
must protest! He wasn't there.
PRINCESS: Oh! ...
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
can't be civil to a political traitor!
NADINE: My dear,
in Politics there is no honour. Disraeli has said so.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Anyway I should never invite the Waterbirds. [Cryptically:] I regard Mrs
Waterbird as no acquisition!!!
PRINCESS [irrelevantly]:
I watched her in the mirror once acting a little pantomime behind my back.
NADINE [adjusting
a pin]: They say she has three lovers ....
PRINCESS: Three?
ENID: Surely three
lovers would be very inspiriting!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
How is it, I'd like to know, you're parting so soon with yours? Were I a
new-made wife, I'd hold my husband tight, grip his coattails and not let go!
ENID: His going is
of little consequence really.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
It's soon to play Penelope yet!
PRINCESS [a
shadow of recollection crossing her face]: Were I driven to choose, I'd
prefer neglect, I think, to surfeit.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
That, I suppose, depends upon the man.
PRINCESS [with
a half-laugh]: A husband's attentions soon grow savourless!
ENID [her eyes
raised towards the Gallery]: He married me in creaking shoes.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
What?
ENID [reminiscent,
unearthly]: His shoes creaked when he married me!
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
conclude you've been catching glimpses of each other ....
ENID: Glimpses?
LADY ROCKTOWER [shrewdly]:
I believe this is nothing but a touch of sexantagonism which presently will
pass.
ENID [evidently
pleased with the consequence of the situation]: This morning my maid found
three little grey ones—hairs.
NADINE [sympathetically]:
Darling Enid! She talks like an old woman and she's a mere fillette still!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Were I you, my dear, I would go for him tooth-and-nail!
PRINCESS [conciliatory]:
I always pour oil on troubled waters. Harmony for me.
ENID [with
importance]: Three little grey ones ....
[She goes up
stage enumerating them upon her fingers, and disappears after a moment in the
garden.]
NADINE [following
her with a look]: Now she has gone off into some jewelled Hades of her own.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
I'm bewildered to know what to advise!
NADINE [musingly]:
It's difficult to interfere—Enid and Eric vying in vanity with each other
as they do.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
They're not sufficiently different, one feels, to be happy together.
PRINCESS: Enid's
clever of course but she needs directing.
LADY ROCKTOWER [irreflective]:
One ~omfort is
there's no issue!
PRINCESS: My dear,
give them time!
NADINE: It's quite
dreadful to hear her refer to her wedding day as Black Tuesday.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Thank Heaven! Marriage isn't indissoluble.
PRINCESS: They're
unreckonably temperamental. Both of them ....
LADY ROCKTOWER:
People of their sort oughtn't to marry.
NADINE: Last night
she had a bad crise des nerfs and began calling sixteen "the Old
Age of Youth."
PRINCESS [fluttering
her fan]: Is she only sixteen?
NADINE [ignoring
the interruption]: So this morning I sent into town for Dr Mater.
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
don't think much of Dr Mater. He'll tell you of all sorts of things to avoid,
things that in any case it would never occur to one to take!
PRINCESS: What did
he say?
NADINE: He has
ordered her milk and the wings of chickens.
[Enter GLYDA ROCKTOWER, aged eleven. She is pale,
plump, precociousan attaching manner.]
SCENE X
Same. GLYDA
PRINCESS: Ah! ... ecco
Ia!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Wicked peach.
GLYDA [standing
legs apart and swinging insolently her skirts]: I met some people in the
lane.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Who?
GLYDA: Guess?
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
can't.
GLYDA [pirouetting,
preening herself]: Apollo—and Lord Orkish.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Apollo—who?
GLYDA: Reggie
Quintus.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Oh!
GLYDA: I told them
you were here. They're coming in.
[Enter LORD ORKISH. He is, despite
"Exile" and a "certain age," all cheerfulness, gaiety and
sweet good-humour. Behind him REGGIE QUINTUS. Incredibly young.
Incredibly good-looking. No one would suppose him to have figured as hero
already in at least one cause célèbre—his manner, which is somewhat
"subdued," alternates between the demi-dazed and the demi-demure.]
SCENE XI
Same. LORD ORKISH, REGGIE QUINTUS
LORD ORKISH: Do we
intrude?
NADINE: Delighted.
LORD ORKISH: We've
just been paying a visite de digestion on Comtesse Willie White, and are
on our way to Salut at San Lorenzo.
NADINE: Then
there's no immediacy, is there?
LORD ORKISH [shaking
hands]: Why, none.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Perhaps you can inform me if Madame Gandarella is still at the Villa?
LORD ORKISH: Yes;
and Santuzza.
NADINE [laughing]:
That poor Santuzza. She has the most fearful English accent in the world.
Where is it! What is it! Who could have taught her? I wonder.
LORD ORKISH:
People are circulating such dreadful stories!
PRINCESS [miraculously]:
What about?
LORD ORKISH: I'm
so newsy. [Irrepressibly:] I feel I must tell it to somebody, if only a
lizard, or a butterfly, or a garden-snail!
NADINE: Sit down
and tell us instead.
[All but
imperceptibly, twilight begins to form.]
LORD ORKISH: I've
but just this afternoon heard the Alpmuriels are leaving one another! ... Mrs
Alpmuriel, in fact, has already gone.
LADY ROCKTOWER,
NADINE: Gone? [Ensemble:] Where?
LORD ORKISH: Away.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Dear me!
LORD ORKISH [impressionistically]:
Instead of surprising them—comment dirai-je?—he found them,
unmysteriously eating.
LADY ROCKTOWER: Eating?
LORD ORKISH: Only
imagine!!! And he with his drawn sword—or a revolver, was it?
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Oh!
LORD ORKISH [playing
extinct eyes]: Sir Dolfin Lewis is defending her.
PRINCESS [amused]:
And what else, Lord Orkish, did you hear at the Villa White?
LORD ORKISH: That
the new American Ambassadress likes to be thought a little grisette.
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
sat next her a short while ago at the Teatro Valli.
NADINE: You did
not tell me you had been to Rome!
REGGIE [in a
voice which is rather like cheap scent]: Perhaps you won't agree. But I
consider Florence has fewer amenities than Rome.
NADINE: It depends
what one means by amenities, quite.
REGGIE [regarding
thoughtfully his white compact hands]: I always feel a sort of malaise in
Florence. Why, I can't tell.
LADY ROCKTOWER [austerely]:
I fear the morals of the town are not especially high!
LORD ORKISH: A
neighbour of ours sent her little maid the other night across the Piazza for a
bottle of French brandy, and she has not been heard of again.
NADINE: How dreadful.
ENID [coming
down with a watering-can of Pesaro pottery in her hand. She is smiling and has
tucked into her dress a huge blue Passion-flower]: I heard men's voices
....
NADINE: Lord
Orkish has been regaling us with a whole rosary of piquant anecdotes;
ENID: Really.
NADINE [to LORD
ORKISH]: You've such wonderful entrainement.
LORD ORKISH [very
simply]: I'm never bored. I enjoy everything.
REGGIE: So do I
too! I love society. Alone with my shadow I'm soon depressed.
NADINE [rather
nervously]: And where have you been to, Reggie, this perfect age?
REGGIE [bending
his head a little on one side to inhale the scent of the tuberose flowers that
are in his button-hole]: I and a friend of mine, Claud Cloudley, we've been
visiting all the P's.
NADINE: All the
what?
REGGIE: Pavia,
Parma, Padua, Perugia, Pisa
PRINCESS: Is it a
method?
REGGIE: Claud's
such an extremist, you know. [Lowering impressively his voice:] They say
when he kissed the Pope's slipper [a gentle cough] he went on to do
considerably more . ...
GLYDA [intrigued]:
What's he like, Reggie?
REGGIE [nonchalantly]:
He's rather good-looking in a sickly sort of way.
GLYDA [disappointed]:
What a description!
ENID [slyly]: I
expect he's very good-looking!
REGGIE [smiling]:
He's sickly.
PRINCESS: I
remember him coming to see me once in England, with his dripping umbrella.
LORD ORKISH: Shall
you be going to England, Princess, later on?
PRINCESS [cooling
her cheeks with a powder-puff]: Perhaps, if I can afford it.
NADINE: To hear
her speak, she might be a Poor Clare!
LADY ROCKTOWER [vivaciously]:
Our villa is let for the coming villeggiatura to Madame Olga Wittena-Gemot,
the famous singer, and my husband is rampant with me because Renaldo Renetti—
[Re-enter ERIC, with billiard cue.]
SCENE XII
Same. ERIC
ERIC [to ENID]:
Shake me a cocktail, darling. Do.
ENID: Oh, don't
ask me to do anything so violent, Eric. Where's Angelo?
NADINE [who
looks as though she would be also glad of some refreshment herself]: What
shall it be? West-Coast? Manhattan? Kiss-me-Quick?
ERIC: Let it be a
Gloom-Raiser.
NADINE: There's no
more absinthe, I fear.
ERIC: Then a
Champagne-Cobbler.
NADINE [generally]:
Will you excuse me?
[Exit NADINE to house.]
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Now, I'm going to scold him!
ENID: No, Lady
Rocktower.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
And Princess Zoubaroff shall second me.
PRINCESS: Oh,
please! I'm unrepresented. [She drifts away.]
ERIC: Buona
sera.
[He begins
balancing his billiard cue in the palm of his hand. ENID, with an ironic glance, follows PRINCESS
towards hammock, where LORD ORKISH and REGGIE have commenced
rocking GLYDA.]
ENID [witheringly,
withdrawing]: He is the Eternal-masculine.
LADY ROCKTOWER
[toute entiere a sa proie attachee]: Heartless man; and so you're going to
leave us?
ERIC [inconsequently]:
For a time.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
You propose, of course, returning?
ERIC [with an
air of detachment]: I expect so!
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
think Enid is a saint about it all. [Warming:] For a honeymoon's a
honeymoon, however one looks at it.
ERIC: Bored people
do desperate things.
LADY ROCKTOWER [fairly
floored]: Why on earth did you marry?
ERIC [ceasing
juggling]: I was only half-serious when I proposed.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
And she accepted you?
ERIC: I never
expected to be taken quite au pied de Ia lettre.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Fool.
ERIC: I beg your
pardon?
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
said insensate! [He continues his experiments with the cue.] [Beside
herself] Come down to us a little more. Forsake those heights!
ERIC [turning
away]: If I leave you for a moment will you forgive me?
ENID [reapproaching]:
Lady Rocktower! Please—
LADY ROCKTOWER: He
seems determined!
ENID: Let him go.
LADY ROCKTOWER [susceptibly]:
He has nice eyes.
ENID: There's
something agreeably piquant—almost—about his excessive leanness!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Perhaps SO.
ENID: And I don't
so much detest his big, bold nose!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Tell me, dear. Were you solicited besides?
ENID: Was ILADY
ROCKTOWER: Did
anyone else ask you?
ENID [exaggerating]:
I should say so indeed. I might have married whom I liked.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
You seem to have selected an enigma!
ENID [playing
with her Passionflower]: I will say this for Eric, he isn't carnal.
LADY ROCKTOWER: He
isn't carnal enough, my dear, from what I can see. [Half to herself] He
must have the blood of an Esquimau!
ENID: I scarcely
realised, I suppose, at the time of my marriage, I was taking him on for a term
of years.
LADY ROCKTOWER [prophetic]:
Oh! But it won't be years! A term of weeks, dear, more like at the rate
things go.
ENID: I think my
nerves need Mozart.
[Enter ANGELO, a boy of sixteen, fair, sleek,
languishing, a "Benozzo Gozzoli, " bearing a tray with
lemonade, sorbets, fruit, etc. He wears a trim black livery with
violet-coloured facings and shoulder-knots.]
SCENE XIII
Same. ANGELO
LADY ROCKTOWER [helping
herself recklessly to strawberries]: I will order a Novena said for you.
[Attracted by ANGELO and the tinkle of ice, GLYDA and
REGGIE come down, followed more leisurely by LORD ORKISH and PRINCESS.
Later NADINE. The twilight deepens. Lights, here and there, shine
from town.]
REGGIE: I believe
strawberries are the clue to my heart!
ENID: Are they?
REGGIE: I'm most
awfully friand of fruit.
GLYDA [circling
butterfly about]: I'm fond of grapes, and apricots if they're green .... I
can't say I like bananas.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Fastidious child.
REGGIE: I adore
them.
GLYDA: How much?
REGGIE [wittily]:
As a Russian does Nice.
ENID: Angelo! [Backing
him down towards footlights.]
ANGELO: Signora!
ENID [sotto
voce]: Have you the key of your master's valise?
ANGELO [passionately]:
Ah, Madonna!
ENID: Answer me.
ANGELO [as
before]: Ah, Mamma mia!
ENID [taking a
sorbet]: You haven't?
ANGELO: Ah,
caro Dio!
ENID: It doesn't
matter.
ANGELO: Ah, che
rabat [He crosses stage, rolling his black eyes, passing ADRIAN L.]
SCENE XN
Same. ADRIAN
ADRIAN [to ENID
J: Have you seen Eric?
ENID [sipping
her sorbet]: He was here a moment ago.
ADRIAN: Visitors! [He
seems disconcerted at sight of REGGIE.]
PRINCESS [continuing
her conversation with LORD ORKISH]: I sent my new photo quarter-face to the
Cardinal, and he said—
ENID [drinking
still]: You'll think of the Edelweiss, won't you—if it's only a single
sprig!
ADRIAN: Eh?
ENID: It would so
touch Nadine ... Poor angel. She's always wanting some rare, far thing.
ADRIAN: I know.
ENID [lightly]:
So be, be a dear!
REGGIE [deftly,
to LADY ROCKTOWER, without interrupting at all ADRIAN and ENID]:
They had hoped it was Tiepolo—but it's only Sebastian Ricci.
ADRIAN: But it
isn't the season for Edelweiss.
ENID: Nonsense!
ADRIAN: I promise
you.
ENID: You needn't
try to put me off with an excuse!
LORD ORKISH [very
deftly, to PRINCESS]: Lady Audrey's still at Cannes. I hear you wouldn't
know her! She's grown so stout.
ENID [asserting
her voice pathetically in general appeal]: Isn't it the season for
Edelweiss?
LADY ROCKTOWER:
For Edelweiss? I'm sure I don't know.
ENID [setting
down her glass]: It is the season. It is.
GLYDA [to PRINCESS]:
What is the music written on your fan?
PRINCESS: A gipsy
song—a chansonnette.
ENID [obstinately]:
I will wager you what you like, Edelweiss grows all the year round.
NADINE [re-entering
from house]: I think I hear the front door bell!
ADRIAN: It's
amazing you hear anything.
[Enter ANGELO,
followed by BLANCHE.]
ANGELO [announcing]:
Mrs Negress. [He goes out, looking over his shoulder, apparently at REGGIE.]
SCENE XV
Same. BLANCHE NEGRESS. Her hair, worn short, in
wildest spirals, is tinged with white. She is dressed in grey, like a Béguine.
She has a pannier of red lilies.
BLANCHE: I walked
along a pink footpath, through the olive-gardens till I saw a dog, which nearly
drove me back. I don't know why it should be, but Italian dogs fly at me as
a rule!
ENID [accepting
pannier, which BLANCHE tends]: It's nice, your coming.
NADINE: Do you
know everybody? Lady Rocktower, Mrs Negress—Lord Orkish, Mr Quintus, Princess
Zoubaroff—Zena, this is Blanche!
PRINCESS:
Delighted.
LORD ORKISH: I
expect it was my dog. I left one at the door. [He moves up.]
NADINE [introducing]:
My husband.
BLANCHE [genially]:
I think we've slept together once?
ADRIAN: I don't
remember.
BLANCHE: At the
Opera. During Berenice!
ADRIAN: Why, of
course.
NADINE [glimpsing
ERIC): Mr Tresilian
ERIC: I give you
full permission to slay me.
ENID: Why should
she wish to slay you?
NADINE: Hark to
his guilty conscience!
PRINCESS [to BLANCHE):
I confess, with shame, I never read one of your books.
BLANCHE [amiable]:
It took me four years to choose my nom de guerre—Mary.
PRINCESS [with
a cry]: Are you Mary?
BLANCHE: I am.
PRINCESS: Oh,
then, Love's Visee—I know .... And Lesbia, or Would He Understand?
[Her admiration is boundless.]
ENID [indicating
books]: By the way, Zena, I haven't thanked you properly—
PRINCESS: Were any
of them interesting at all?
ENID: I should
think so.
PRINCESS [affectionately]:
Cara.
ENID [with a
look at ERIC): I'm glad I can still sometimes drug my senses with a book.
NADINE: I've been
perusing Lord Tiredstock's Memoirs.
PRINCESS: His
biography is the barest memoranda, but it's wonderful.
[REGGIE, at
table where are PRINCESS's books, chuckles.]
ENID: What is
amusing you?
REGGIE [convulsed]:
Orfeo.
ENID: What about
it?
REGGIE: It's too
cruel.
ENID: No.
REGGIE [reading]:
"Woman is an object that always makes man ridiculous."
NADINE [shrieking]:
Fiend!
REGGIE [continuing]:
"If she is ugly—oh! What a misery! If she is beautiful—oh! What a
danger! And whether one takes her or leaves her one always repents one's
action."
LADY ROCKTOWER (protesting]:
Well, really!
ENID: Aren't you
ashamed to read such things aloud to us?
REGGIE: You said I
might.
PRINCESS:
Mercifully, very soon it will be too dark to read!
GLYDA [indicating]:
Oh, do look at the sky!
NADINE:
Extravagant, isn't it?
ERIC [grumbling]:
Another airless night!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
I'm quite glad, do you know, of my Risorgimento cape.
[Puts wrap on.]
PRINCESS: It is
lightening a little towards the town.
BLANCHE: Florence
fascinates me at sundown with its scores of shimmering lights.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
The evenings grow dark here so very beautifully.
GLYDA: There's a
sickle moon.
PRINCESS: Where?
Show me.
GLYDA: Can't you
see it? There, through the trees. [She turns to BLANCHE.]
BLANCHE [modestly]:
I fear I'm becoming too obese to look at the moon.
ADRIAN [inviting]:
Then look, do, at the shadows instead.
BLANCHE [staring]:
The shadows?
NADINE: Adrian
sees shapes in everything. [Laughing:] He calls the trees at the foot of
the garden an "obscene brigade."
LADY ROCKTOWER: My
dear, if they choose to grow that way ...
PRINCESS [indolently]:
Not a frond stirs. It's as if a spell held all fast.
ENID [sniffing]:
Delicious. The fresh odour of the dew.
PRINCESS: My
favourite tree is certainly the Cypress.
GLYDA [taking
her fan from her and using it]: Why?
PRINCESS: It tells
no tales!
NADINE: But
monotonous, like all evergreens are.
BLANCHE [blinking
at a flash of summer lightning]: There was a beautiful thunderstorm the
evening I arrived.
ENID: At the
"Bretagne," Blanche, you would see!
BLANCHE: Yes; my
room is on the river.
LORD ORKISH [returning]:
I don't know at all what the Arno is coming to. I was leaning on my
window-sill [laughs] and there were some youths who appeared to be
bathing without false modesty of any kind.
LADY ROCKTOWER [covering
her eyes with an elaborately becoroneted Vanity-bag]: How dreadful.
LORD ORKISH [pursuing]:
I'm sure if I looked it was quite involuntary.
LADY ROCKTOWER [sympathetically]:
I'm sure you couldn't help yourself from standing and looking.
NADINE [sentimentally]:
I love the Arno at low water.
ADRIAN: It's
always that. Beyond the town it's unnavigable for even a newspaper!
ERIC [to BLANCHE]:
Enid was saying you write for one.
BLANCHE [proudly]:
I write for several.
ERIC: Oh? Which?
BLANCHE: Mainly women's
.... [A little sadly:] I was instrumental in a very large degree in
obtaining my sex the vote.
PRINCESS: You are
one of our champions then?
BLANCHE: Yes.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
I'm glad you believe in us!
BLANCHE: Men amuse
me sometimes. [Simply:] But I have never really loved one.
ERIC [astonished]:
You have never loved any man?
BLANCHE: Never!
LADY ROCKTOWER [nervously
fastening a hook to her cape]: It's a pleasure to meet now and again a
woman of really advanced morals.
BLANCHE: I can
safely say I prefer the society of other women to that of men.
PRINCESS: That's
nice of you.
LADY ROCKTOWER [to
NADINE]: Well, dear, I really must run. I wish I hadn't had to!
NADINE: Must you?
ENID: Stay a
little while. It's absurdly early yet.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
There's to be a small sauterie this evening at the Harkovs'.
NADINE: We were
asked, but I didn't feel like going.
ENID: I'm far too
slack to go fagging up to Fiesole tonight.
LADY ROCKTOWER [to
GLYDA]: Come, child!
NADINE: Good-bye.
You'll come and see me sometimes, won't you?
LADY ROCKTOWER [moving
towards garden gate with GLYDA]: Often, if you wish it.
ENID: Do!
LADY ROCKTOWER [up
stage, at a distance]: Tomorrow ... let me see. Is there no charming church
where we could go and sit?
SCENE XVI
Same. Minus LADY ROCKTOWER and GLYDA
LORD ORKISH [low,
to REGGIE]: And we ought to be toddling too.
REGGIE [deaf,
to ERIC]: We might frivol round together one evening if you like.
ERIC [primly]: I
should love to, only I've no leisure for anything just now.
PRINCESS [observant,
to LORD ORKISH]: In Spain, I'm told, you must first court the husband to
get round the wife.
LORD ORKISH [appalled
at so much cynicism]: Madame! Madame?
BLANCHE [to ADRIAN,
designating something]: What is that big brick pile?
ADRIAN [looking]:
Where? You surely don't mean the Signoria?
BLANCHE: Such a
sad, fateful sunset.
LORD ORKISH [touching
REGGIE's arm]: Ready?
REGGIE [backing
out of Salut]: I'm so sorry ... but I clean forgot! I've a rendez-vous.
LORD ORKISH:
Where?
REGGIE: At the
quag end of the Cascine.
LORD ORKISH: Which
end's that?
REGGIE: The quag
end? The far end ....
LORD ORKISH: We
can go part of the way together.
NADINE [coming
down]: Dear Lady Rocktower. She gets statelier every year. [Seeing LORD
ORKISH and REGGIE are preparing to depart:] What? You're oft?
LORD ORKISH: It's
getting late.
NADINE: Try and
look in tomorrow.
REGGIE [to PRINCESS]:
Bye-bye. I press your hand. [Does so.]
LORD ORKISH: I
fear I'm engaged tomorrow.
NADINE: Tiresome
creature!
LORD ORKISH [as be
goes up, accompanied by REGGIE]: I'm attending a tertulia chez Camille!
NADINE [graciously]:
Well, addio for the present.
[Exeunt, by
garden gate, LORD ORKISH and
REGGIE.]
BLANCHE [precipitately
making after them]: As they know the way, I think I'll go with them.
[Exit BLANCHE.]
SCENE XVII
Same. Minus LORD ORKISH, REGGIE, BLANCHE
PRINCESS: It must
be almost dinner-time!
ADRIAN: I expect
you're hungry after riding so far.
PRINCESS: I am!
ERIC: That's
right.
PRINCESS: This
morning my French cook got locked, by mistake, in the orchid-house, and I've
had nothing to eat all day.
NADINE and ENID
[coming down]: Stay and dine with us.
PRINCESS:
Impossible.
ENID: Because?
PRINCESS: I must
change.
NADINE: Look in
after, then.
ENID: Yes, do,
Zena.
PRINCESS [considering]:
Perhaps I may peep in quite at the very end of the evening.
NADINE: We'll
expect you.
PRINCESS [going]:
I'll bring a little volume of Higher Mystician with meshall I?—that I think
you'll adore.
ENID [blowing
her a kiss]: How delightful.
PRINCESS: Till
by-and-by.
[Exit PRINCESS.]
SCENE XVIII
ADRIAN, ERIC,
NADINE, ENID
ADRIAN [to ERIC]:
Shall we finish our game?
ERIC: By all
means.
ENID [affronted]:
Are you going indoors?
ERIC [with
simpering ardour]: Auf Wiedersehen, my deathless girl.
[Exeunt ADRIAN and ERIC.]
SCENE XIX
NADINE, ENID
ENID [complaining]:
Why aren't the Nightingales singing, and why is there no moon?
NADINE: But there
is, dearest. A delicate new one—all for us.
ENID: I mean a
proper moon.
NADINE: My dear
Enid [focusing the moon with a black-rimmed eyeglass], I see nothing
improper about this one.
ENID: I meant a
full moon, darling.
NADINE: I don't
know why you should prefer it to be full. A full moon is perhaps rather vulgar!
ENID: Vulgar?
NADINE: just a
little.
[ANGELO enters
and takes away empty glasses, murmuring intermittently to himself below his
breath.]
ANGELO: Ah
poveretta! La povera signora. Ah cbe roba! Ab, Dial [He is almost crying in his
distress for ENID.]
ENID: I suppose
they leave early?
NADINE: I've no
idea.
ENID: I shan't
come down.
NADINE: Neither
will I. I intend receiving his parting peck in bed.
ENID: Eric never
gives me such tangible proofs of his affection.
NADINE: Doesn't
he?
ENID: In the
morning he just touches my hand—and then he just grazes it—et encore!!—again
at night.
NADINE [after
an instant, pacing to and fro]: You know, Enid, I consulted Dr Mater this
morning, after he'd seen you.
ENID: What about?
NADINE [after
another instant]: My health is in a very delicate state, dear.
ENID [alarmed]:
Darling Nadine!
NADINE: Yes, I may
be obliged—but I won't tax your little ears with it just now.
ENID [anxious
to ascertain the facts]: Is it anything dreadful?
NADINE: It depends
what one means quite by dreadful. [Half-hysterically:] Define dreadful!
ENID [taking NADINE's
hand]: I'm so sorry ...
NADINE [turning
from her]: Of course we may all be wrong ....
ENID [with
fervour]: I do sincerely hope so!
NADINE: I must go
and dress ....
ENID [calling
after her]: Tell Fergusson, dear, as you're going in, my gown with the
Camellias.
SCENE XX
ENID, sola. She
stands a moment, lost in conjecture. All the bells of Florence ring out. From
the Judas-tree a nightingale utters a trill. Another replies .... All in
an instant the air is full of the singing of birds, the tintinnabulation of
bells. The sky is abloom with stars.
ENID [to herself,
aloud]: What can she be going to have?
[Moving towards
a flower-plat she inhales, indolently, a flower. A gong goes within. Right hand
to hip, left raised to chevelure, she goes slowly up.]
ENID [lifting
roguishly towards the sky her face]: It sounds almost as though she were
sickening for the Plague ....
THE CURTAIN FALLS
ACT II
SCENE I
Same as Act I,
only the trees have changed their tints. Some are orange, some are scarlet. Red
creepers. Autumn flowers.
NADINE, slightly
overdressed in black, with a colossal hat of Piedmontese cock's feathers, is
seen with a couple of lace pocket-handkerchiefs tied to two fingers (which she
bobs and waggles), diverting her infant son. ENID ,from hammock (her
gown is white, witb clusters of sophisticated-looking fruit hanging from it),
is listlessly watching her.
ENID [breaking
at last the "September Silence"]: Why did you have it?
NADINE [with a
sigh, half of pride, half of resignation]: My dear, I simply couldn't help
myself ....
ENID: I thought
you cleverer!
NADINE [to the
infant]: Charles Augustus Frederic Humphrey Percy Sydney!
ENID: At any rate,
I'm glad the christening's over.
NADINE [soulfully]:
Yes. But it was beautiful.
ENID [despondently]:
And now this wretched party.
NADINE [kissing
little CHARLES]: He is just like an opening orchid.
ENID [sitting
up—she has in her hand a crystal]: just like what?
NADINE [rocking]:
Forgive a mother's selfishness.
ENID: I won't let
him monopolise you, Nadine.
NADINE [oblivious]:
His mania for pulling everything to pieces makes me anxious for his
happiness later on.
ENID [looking
round]: Here is Mrs Mangrove.
[Enter NURSE. She is Scotch. Portly. A woman of
fifty. One realises immediately she would have her theories, her "little
ways, "as regards Nursery matters.]
SCENE II
Same. NURSE
NADINE: You shall
take him, Nurse.
NURSE: Very good,
marm. [Taking child.]
NADINE: Gently,
mind.
NURSE [bursting
into song]:
The man in the
moone drinks claret,
Eates powdered
beef, turnip and caret,
But a cup of old
Malaga sack
Will fire the
bushe at his backe.
ENID [detached]:
I hope you enjoyed the christening, Nurse?
NURSE: To be sure.
I seldom saw a bonnier.
NADINE [privately,
to NURSE]: See that he—
NURSE: He doesn't
want to again, marm, Lord bless you! [She bustles off through the trees with
the child nevertheless.]
SCENE III
NADINE, ENID
NADINE [distressed]:
I am afraid she cannot have seen very distinguished service.
ENID: In the last
family that she was in, on Notting Hill, she told me the governess and the five
children used to go out roller-skating through the London streets ....
NADINE [crossing
over to her]: Have you made any further discovery, Enid, in the crystal at
all?
ENID: It's
difficult. ... I ought to have something to hold.
NADINE [drawing
something from her dress]: Here is the last letter he wrote to me.
ENID [taking
it]: Thanks.
NADINE: I feel it
may be the last he ever wrote ....
ENID [airily]: Something
tells me they are the two that slipped.
NADINE [closing
her eyes, gesticulating]: It's appalling to think of them both falling ...
sinking.
ENID: Tsch!
NADINE: You may
read what Adrian says.
ENID [humouring
her]: "The walks—the walks are a continual delight. On all sides—turn
where one will—beauty breaks on beauty .... "
NADINE [euphoniously,
with her lips]: Beauty breaks on beauty ....
ENID [resuming]:
"Wonder leaps on wonder" [her voice breaking a little]. "I
think of you sometimes at Livorno, where the green waves roll in ceaselessly
and the brown fishing-nets upon the beach lie drying in the sun."
NADINE: Because I
told him we might be going to Livorno.
ENID [commenting]:
A more depraved-looking autograph I've seldom seen!
NADINE [with
authority]: Now use the ball.
ENID [after an
instant]: In the crystal I see a beautiful little giraffe.
NADINE: A giraffe?
ENID: Such a
darling. Oh, and I can see a hut, a little house .... [She begins to
squeal.]
NADINE: That must
be the guide's dwelling.
ENID [still
gazing]: I think it's an antelope, not a giraffe.
NADINE[anxiously]:
What is it doing?
ENID [straining]:
Nothing.
NADINE: There,
that's enough for the present, I want you fresh for the party.
ENID [returning
letter]: It's a mistake, I think, having ordered tea indoors.
NADINE: It saves a
lot of bother.
ENID [thoughtfully]:
Awkward if Monsignor Vanhove should call here today.
NADINE [flurried,
applying to her lips a cosmetic]: Did Zen a say he'd call? .
ENID: She said he
might.
NADINE: I believe
she intends taking it.
ENID: What? The
veil?
NADINE: I'm sure.
ENID [thrilled]:
But are you?
NADINE: And what's
more, my dear, she also intends us!
ENID [giggling
nervously]: Oh, I could never be a nun.
NADINE: Couldn't
you?
ENID: Could l? ...
[Enter PRINCESS.]
NADINE: Ah, here
is Charlie's new godmother.
SCENE IV
Same. PRINCESS. She wears something which is
crocus-coloured, contrasting radiantly with the autumnal foliage of the trees,
a foppish hat, a winter-day muff ... She is looking charmingly
Carthaginian.
PRINCESS [coming
forward]: Charles Augustus Frederic—what are the others?
NADINE: Humphrey,
Percy, Sydney.
PRINCESS [frowning,
shocked]: Such a wicked, dissolute name!
ENID: Names ....
NADINE: Cher
amour.
PRINCESS: Well,
Charlie's mother [taking NADINE's hands], you're happy? You're
content?
NADINE [soulful,
ethereal as before]: It was beautiful.
ENID [matter of
fact]: Was Violet du Wilson present?
PRINCESS [nodding]:
With a sort of Starfish in her hair.
NADINE: Violet's
changed. She has the look of a great sinner ....
PRINCESS: Poor
little woman—I want her so much.
NADINE [dropping
her eyes]: You want her? What for?
PRINCESS: For my
community.
ENID: Oh, Zena!
PRINCESS: l want
you too.
NADINE: Us?
PRINCESS: I mean
to have you.
ENID: No.
PRINCESS [giving
ENID a brush in the face with her muff]: Oh, yes I do.
ENID [changing
the subject]: Who else did you see at Santa Maria Novella?
PRINCESS [vaguely]:
The Harkovs, the Scharas, the Rocktowers. [Laughing:] Even old Mr Hope,
who never goes anywhere ....
NADINE: I can't
suffer Countess Harkov, I'm afraid. She thinks she has only to smile to stir up
an ocean of passion.
PRINCESS: It's a pity
now she's getting to look so bloated.
ENID [meaningly]:
You don't want her, I hope!
PRINCESS [Christian]:
I want everybody—at least—
ENID [curiously]:
But have you found your site?
PRINCESS [mysteriously]:
I'm in communication with the Vatican now.
NADINE: So you are
actually in touch!
PRINCESS [nodding]:
My prospectus, I may say, is practically approved ....
ENID: By the Holy
Father?
PRINCESS [evasively]:
Monsignor Vanhove would do anything for me.
NADINE: Where will
you fix?
PRINCESS: Beyond
Settignano, I think.
ENID: Zena!
PRINCESS: What?
ENID: It's too
utterly Uganda.
PRINCESS: Uganda?
ENID: Far off.
PRINCESS: Nonsense
... what does one want to be near to?
ENID [racily]: I
don't know what one wants to be near, but I know that Settignano is dreadfully
ungetatable.
PRINCESS: One
can't attain soul-stillness, dearest, within earshot of trains and trams.
NADINE [catching
her infant's howl]: No, nor within earshot of my son and heir!
[Exit NADINE hurriedly to house.]
SCENE V
ENID, PRINCESS
ENID [hands to
ears]: Should I, could I, might I, dare I, drown it?
PRINCESS [by
hammock, frankly smiling]: I almost wish you could.
ENID [shocked,
surprised]: How ungodmotherly, Zena, of you!
PRINCESS [seating
herself]: The worst of it is the Holy Father may not consent to have a boy
brought up among us ....
ENID [wondering,
artless]: Among whom?
PRINCESS: A little
girl would have been easier to receive ....
ENID: Where?
PRINCESS: In a
Religious House.
ENID [laughing]:
A young man of Charlie's age can go anywhere.
PRINCESS [scrupulous]:
It might give the nuns thoughts.
ENID [still
laughing]: Thoughts?
PRINCESS [toying
with the tassels on her muff]: Sexual ones.
ENID: Oh ... but
an infant!
PRINCESS: All the
same, dear, infants—and a nun is such a sensitive creature as a rule.
ENID: I can't see
that it matters at all. [After a hesitation:] It might do later!
PRINCESS: Of
course, some of us will be widows.
ENID: You, dear,
for one.
PRINCESS [with
a sigh]: Looking back, how droll it seems.
ENID [diffident,
cautious]: Looking back at what?
PRINCESS: At
everything.
ENID: This mystic
side to you, Zena, is it something new?
PRINCESS: No.
ENID: Your late
husband—did he know of it?
PRINCESS [lifting
her shoulders slightly]: He may have guessed.
ENID: Only
"guessed."
PRINCESS: Racing,
pigeon-shooting, billiards and whist were his chief pleasures.
ENID: An egoist?
PRINCESS [softly
reminiscent]: Nils was different. He knew ...
ENID: Who was
Nils?
PRINCESS: He was
my first.
ENID: Oh?
PRINCESS: I adored
him. We adored eacli other. [With a sigh:] He was the dearest of all
my husbands.
ENID: Tell me
about him.
PRINCESS: He was
not strong. He required always enormous precautions.
ENID: I presume
you nursed him.
PRINCESS [whimsically]:
Such a strange, bored and beautiful face he had ... though harrowingly thin
he was. [Laughing:] I sometimes miss his clever imitations of farmyard
noises.
ENID [fascinated]:
Yes?
PRINCESS [mirthlessly]:
Hee-haw-Cook-a-doodle-doo.
ENID: He must
leave a blank ....
PRINCESS: I
remember he died just as the clock was striking midday ....
ENID [speechless]:
... !
PRINCESS [poignant-eyed]:
Such a charming, such a brilliant man .... He begged me to mourn him in
Chinese fashion—White.
ENID: Which, of
course, you did?
PRINCESS: And
then, when all the wreaths were spread [demonstrating], I danced a gavotte
over his grave.
ENID: He was not
the explorer?
PRINCESS: Oh no.
ENID: What was he
like?
PRINCESS [evasively]:
Poor Phil—I forget what it was I didn't like about him ....
ENID [prompt]: His
beard.
PRINCESS: Phil had
no beard.
ENID: Which was
the one that had?
PRINCESS: Hugh. He
broke my heart.
ENID [after an
instant]: Oh, isn't God far off? Zena! Isn't He, dear?
PRINCESS [unruffled,
abbessish]: No, Enid. I don't think He is—not very.
ENID: Don't you?
PRINCESS [smiling]:
Certainly I don't.
ENID [impulsive]:
Do you care to understand me better? [Leaning against PRINCESS:]
Weil—l prefer St. John of the Cross to St. Vincent de Paul!
PRINCESS: So do I!
ENID [a slight
pause; count "six"]: I feel I don't want love exactly—but some
thrilling friendship ....
PRINCESS [arch,
gay, diagnosing]: You want God, dear.
ENID: God?
PRINCESS: That is
what is lacking.
ENID [as NADINE
appears]: If it only were that!
SCENE VI
Same. NADINE
NADINE: I found
Angelo in the loggia licking the ices.
ENID: Oh, Nadine.
PRINCESS: Do you
go to Doney or Giacosa?
NADINE: Giacosa.
ENID [moving
towards house]: Oughtn't one to be going in?
NADINE [following
her]: I suppose one should!
PRINCESS [dawdling]:
Delightful, the early Dahlias.
NADINE [to PRINCESS]:
Coming?
[Exeunt ENID and NADINE to house. Re-enter
NURSE/rom the right bearing little CHARLES.]
SCENE VII
PRINCESS, NURSE,
INFANT
PRINCESS [observing
their names, admiring the dahlias]: Louis-Philippe, Mrs Marvel—voluptuous
Mrs Marvel! [Bending:] Principessa Valentine di Odescalchi—a new
variety, is it?
NURSE: It's been a
glorious day, your Highness, for your godson's christening!
PRINCESS: You made
me jump!
NURSE [holding
up infant]: He's a fine vigorous boy, marm!
PRINCESS: Very.
NURSE: Oh, he's
such a lusty little devil!
PRINCESS: He's
handsome enough!
NURSE [tossing
him]: Oh, he's a little sly one.
PRINCESS [shaking
her muff at him]: He never cried once as he was sprinkled!
NURSE: He never
noticed. All the while he was being baptised he was making Turk's eyes at a
couple of pig-tails.
PRINCESS: Such a
crowd at Santa Maria I've seldom seen.
NURSE: Poor Mrs
Sheil-Meyer. People are so sorry for her.
PRINCESS: It's
terrible, I know.
NURSE [voluble,
familiar]: Begging your pardon, marm, but do you think the Master's really
dead?
PRINCESS [surprised]:
I'm much afraid so!
NURSE: I don't,
then!
PRINCESS [arrested]:
Ah?
NURSE: I'm just
suspicious. [Wisely:] The service I've seen ...
PRINCESS [vaguely]:
Well, all the papers
NURSE [contemptuously]:
The papers!
PRINCESS: And the
enquiries that were made ...
NURSE: I shouldn't
wonder, now, if he's not in America.
PRINCESS: In
America?
NURSE: He and his
friend.
PRINCESS: What
makes you think that?
NURSE [beaming]:
Gracious powers! [Darkly:] I've seen what I've seen!
PRINCESS [raising
a drooping dahlia upon its stick]: Life?
NURSE: It's not
for nothing I've gone about as I have!
PRINCESS: And
you've no wish at all to settle down?
NURSE: It's all
one to me!
PRINCESS [tentatively]:
I seek a porteress for a house of piety!
NURSE: That
wouldn't suit me!
PRINCESS [reassuring]:
It's an easy enough position.
NURSE: A porter's
place in a Sisterhood? [Dryly:] You call it settling down?
PRINCESS: Think it
over!
NURSE: Let all
have their latch-keys, and maybe I will.
SCENE VIII
Same. REGGIE (hatless, from house)
REGGIE: I want to
hide.
PRINCESS: Hide?
REGGIE: I hadn't
thought it possible [breathlessly] to meet so many wicked people at a
Nursery Tea.
PRINCESS: Who have
you run away from?
REGGIE: A withered
lily woman.
PRINCESS: There
are so many withered lily women [vaguely]. Here in Florence.
REGGIE [saluting
CHARLES]: Please, might I hold him, Nurse?
NURSE: Certainly,
sir!
REGGIE [taking CHARLES,
considering him]: He's such a profound-looking baby.
PRINCESS [dreamily]:
He has an Ocean of sleep upon him ....
NURSE: Oh, he's a
little rascal!
REGGIE [to PRINCESS]:
I'm told you called me disreputable the other night!
PRINCESS: I'm sure
I hardly recollect whether I called you reputable or disreputable—! don't
remember.
REGGIE: Unkind.
PRINCESS (motherly]:
And how are our actual prospects?
REGGIE [candid]:
If I'm a little disappointed at present I believe always in my own eventual
star.
PRINCESS: That's
right!
REGGIE: I'm hoping
to be a Cardinal's secretary soon.
PRINCESS: Are you?
REGGIE: Nothing's
quite decided—but I think I've got the job.
PRINCESS: You'll
get awfully bored, shan't you, going to conversaziones in the religious world?
REGGIE [resigned]:
Forse!
PRINCESS: Until
you assume your duties, I presume you'll remain in Florence?
REGGIE [returning
infant to NURSE, who parades slowly with it up and down]: Lord
Orkish has asked me to make his house temporarily my home.
PRINCESS [after
an instant]: Is Lady Orkish coming out this year?
REGGIE: She's
been.
PRINCESS: Been?
REGGIE: She only
broke her journey on her way from Rome.
PRINCESS [looking
down while she speaks]: She didn't stay long.
REGGIE: Long
enough!
PRINCESS: For Lord
Ot:kish?
REGGIE [with
feeling]: It made my flesh creep to see him in the white custody of
a wife.
PRINCESS [with
brio]: S-s-s-sh! For shame!
REGGIE: I admire
the Old Bean! He wears his degradation brilliantly, as though it were an
Order!
PRINCESS: He
talked across me at dinner once and I've not forgiven him for it!
REGGIE: It's
awful, I know, when he begins about "The Cabal that rose up against
me!"
PRINCESS: Oh, I'm
terrified of him then!
REGGIE [perceiving
LORD ORKISH]: And, it appears, here we have him.
[Enter LORD ORKISH.]
SCENE IX
Same. LORD ORKISH
LORD ORKISH: I've
come as an emissary to say that tea is being served in the house.
PRINCESS: I don't
want tea, thanks.
LORD ORKISH:
Perhaps you'd care for an ice?
PRINCESS [emphatic]:
No.
REGGIE: Why do you
say "No" in such a voice?
PRINCESS: Never
mind.
LORD ORKISH: Lady
Wilson-Philipson has just arrived with an octet of daughters like
cabbage-roses-so large, so pink, so fresh.
[Violins sound
faintly from house.]
REGGIE: It's going
to be a crush!
PRINCESS: I think
I'll go in, as Monsignor Vanhove may perhaps be in the drawing room.
[Exit PRINCESS to house.]
SCENE X
LORD ORKISH,
REGGIE
LORD ORKISH: I
missed you in the Piazza.
REGGIE: Mr Hope
offered me a lift up in his carriage.
LORD ORKISH [leering
a little]: I wish people would offer me lifts.
REGGIE [amiable]:
I'd as soon have walked.
LORD ORKISH [dropping
into a seat]: Seen anything at all of his Eminence?
REGGIE [emotionally]:
Not half an hour ago—in furs, and a soft tulle hat like an Oxford mist.
LORD ORKISH: You
didn't attack him?
REGGIE [shocked]:
Me? How could I?
LORD ORKISH: His
pretensions to youth are a little ridiculous.
REGGIE [seating
himself on the ground]: The first time I went to the Villa—I shall never
forget—I think the electric fan just kept me from fainting.
[Enter ANGELO, with a salver and ices.]
SCENE XI
Same. ANGELO
LORD ORKISH [refusing
ice]: No, grazie.
REGGIE: There is
something medi
LORD ORKISH:
Medi
REGGIE [refusing
ice]: It's his livery.
ANGELO [smiling]:
The Signora will be sad you do not like her ice.
REGGIE: What are
they?
ANGELO: This
lemon, this pistachio.
REGGIE: And this?
ANGELO [languid]:
Chi to sa?
REGGIE [venturing]:
Shall I regret it?
LORD ORKISH [to
ANGELO ,fixing him]: Were you ever in Naples?
ANGELO [languid]:
Yes; oh yes.
LORD ORKISH: I
seem to have seen you.
ANGELO [displaying
his teeth, smiling]: Via Tavolini!
LORD ORKISH: I
dare say.
ANGELO: As a boy I
vend flowers.
LORD ORKISH: Via
Tavolini?
ANGELO: Now and
then I would pose.
REGGIE: Pose?
ANGELO [gazing
indolently over his shoulder-knots]: I'm a model.
LORD ORKISH [ironic]:
And so at last I behold a model footman!
ANGELO [sighing]:
Ah, caro Dio!
LORD ORKISH: The
perfect servant?
ANGELO [smiling]:
Per Bacco!
REGGIE: You prefer
this to Naples?
ANGELO: No.
REGGIE: Nicer
Naples.
ANGELO: I want to
go to America.
LORD ORKISH: Why
do you want to go to America?
ANGELO: Chi lo
sa?
LORD ORKISH: Young
rapscallion!
ANGELO [rolling
his eyes]: New York.
LORD ORKISH: What
should you do in New York?
REGGIE: Yes. [Rapping
it out quickly:] And what were you doing under the Piazza della Signoria
Colonnades the other night?
ANGELO: Piazza
della Signoria?
REGGIE: In
ambuscade.
ANGELO: Niente.
REGGIE [sceptic]:
Niente?
ANGELO [terrorised]:
Ah, Gesu!
[Exit ANGELO, to house.]
SCENE XII
LORD ORKISH,
REGGIE
LORD ORKISH: It's
a pity he's lost his master. Adrian would, of course, have trained him!
REGGIE: Where can
he be—he and Eric?
LORD ORKISH:
Nobody knows. Where the foxes say good-night to each other, I should think.
REGGIE: It must be
a little triste for Mrs Sheil-Meyer.
LORD ORKISH: She
seems perfectly resigned.
[Four or five
small children emerge from house and scatter like butterflies behind the
various bushes.]
REGGIE: Today she
is receiving the felicitations of half Florence.
LORD ORKISH: Davvero.
So many be's and she's I never saw!
[Enter the MARCHESA PITTI-CONTI, peering about as if
looking for someone.]
SCENE XIII
Same. MARCHESA PITTI-CONTI
MARCHESA [calling]:
Dante, Dan-te Silvio Paolao. [To LORD ORKISH and REGGIE, whimsically:]
He has left his mother, my little bundle of a boy ....
REGGIE: He can't
be very far.
MARCHESA: A bambino,
it seems, has captured his fancy. [Peeping down among the dahlias] He
is flirting something outrageously with the sweetest blonde.
LORD ORKISH: Yes?
MARCHESA: It is
impossible to resist your English children.
LORD ORKISH [paternal,
trying to look less like a wolf]: Pretty, attractive tots—
MARCHESA [gracious]:
We Italian women, you know, have an inclination . . . an inclination
particuliere . .. [a sigh] for the English type!
LORD ORKISH: Ah,
the English type! But not the English climate?
MARCHESA [pronouncing
every syllable crisply, distinctly]: Oh, come! It is not so bad as it is
painted .... I have some charming recollections of your country ... of England.
[Sentimentally:] Salisbury on a summer morning . . . . De-licious! [Introspective:]
I remember I was de-lighted—as well—with Bath ....
LORD ORKISH: One
can hardly judge Great
Britain from Salisbury and Bath.
REGGIE [simpering]:
Or even Stonehenge!
MARCHESA: I don't.
[Proudly:] I have been much further than that. I have been in Oxford and
in Cambridge. [Beginning to gesticulate:] And into the Hebrides even—yes!
I have seen the modern Athens! But no! [With a grimace:] Also Abbotsford
I was at. [Ecstatic, cultured:] Sir Valter Scott! [Recollecting herself]
But Salisbury on a summer morning—Salisbury!
[She drifts
away, peering for her son among the dahlias as ENID comes down.]
SCENE XIV
Same. ENID. Later, a little boy; then GLYDA
LORD ORKISH: The
Marchesa is raving of the surpassing splendours of Salisbury.
REGGIE: Salisbury
on a summer morning ...
ENID: I suppose
she's homesick. You know she was nee Smith, and born in the Close.
LORD ORKISH: I
didn't.
REGGIE [irrepressible]:
She is like a toy-terrier that bit me.
ENID:
S-s-s-s-s-sh! Don't say such dreadful things.
REGGIE: Exactly.
ENID [crossing
to hammock and lifting up forgotten crystal, which she proceeds with hierarchic
care to wipe]: They have a gorgeous place ... near Verona ... The
Pitti-Contis ... which is mortgaged to the last sod.
LORD ORKISH: What,
gazing still?
REGGIE: There's a
new man now in the town.
ENID: Oh? Really?
You must give me his address.
REGGIE: He lives
in the last house of a little mysterious street. You would never find the way.
LORD ORKISH: Have
you seen anything yourself, Mrs Tresilian?
ENID [staring
straight before her as though she were Cassandra]: Today I saw a beautiful
little giraffe.
LORD ORKISH:
Queer.
ENID: Or a goat it
may have been.
REGGIE [yawning]:
I had a morning dream—I saw goats.
ENID [uninterested.
Changing the subject]: In autumn the garden is as melancholy as any
churchyard.
LORD ORKISH: Oh,
don't say so!
REGGIE: Now is the
time for Vallombrosa.
ENID: The forest
must be beautiful now ....
[Enter, from
behind a tree, a CHILD.]
CHILD: Mother!
Where is she?
ENID: I don't
know, dear .... I expect she's in the house.
[Exit CHILD.]
LORD ORKISH:
Wasn't that Violet's boy?
ENID: Oh no ...
he's four—and has the air of a budding policeman.
[Enter GLYDA, tres affairee in a
"Botticelli"frock.]
GLYDA: Aren't you
going in for any refreshment?
REGGIE: Thanks.
I've already had an ice!
GLYDA [to ENID]:
The new American actress "Ondelette" has offered to recite.
REGGIE [bored]:
Oh?
GLYDA [important]:
The Prayer of Akhnaton to the Sun .. ..
LORD ORKISH: She
gave it only lately at the Harkovs'.
REGGIE: And I
heard her do it at the Villa White [mimicking], "Oh, Akhnaton!
Akhnaton!"
ENID [shrewdly]:
I think the sunlight has gone to her head.
REGGIE [taking
crystal from ENID]: Let me see.
ENID: Be careful.
REGGIE [consulting
crystal]: A nigger! [Shouts.]
LORD ORKISH [leaning
over him]: Only one?
[LORD ORKISH and
REGGIE appear enthralled.]
GLYDA: Mamma has
had to go to a private exhibition; but she's coming on.
ENID [vague]:
Of what?
GLYDA [seating
herself]: Of Pictures.
ENID: Oh.
GLYDA: Portraits
... all by women. Carriera, Kauffman, Morisot, Le Brun—
ENID: Fade, I
should think.
GLYDA [arch]: It's
such fun though in Italy, being a woman!
ENID: Why?
GLYDA: I don't
know—but it's such fun!!
ENID: Well, you're
only a little girl yet.
GLYDA: You should
see the way I'm looked at.
ENID: Where?
GLYDA: Where! Oh,
in the street—in church. The other day, in the railway-carriage coming back
from Milan.
ENID: Well?
GLYDA [confused]:
A young officer—oh, how he stared. My goodness!
ENID: The
Italians, I find, are very easily impressed.
GLYDA [ideal]: Love's
a dose of heaven!
ENID: You modern
girls are far too cute.
GLYDA [after a
hesitation]: I cannot resist telling you ... I've seen him again ....
ENID [vague]: Who?
GLYDA: The
Officer!
ENID: What is this
craving after orange-blossom? ... They would persuade us it seems a
woman's chief aim is a march to the altar.
GLYDA: He's
deliciously dark—a regular raven, my dear.
ENID: What next?
GLYDA [longingly]:
Beautiful, Tall, and Mysterious Man!
ENID: Oh.
GLYDA [tenderly]:
It was in the Cascine ...
ENID: He didn't
speak?
GLYDA [moved]: No
... but as he came towards me it was like a strain of music.
[Enter, from
house, NADINE, PRINCESS and
MONSIGNOR VANHOVE.]
SCENE XV
Same. NADINE, PRINCESS and MONSIGNOR
VANHOVE. He is dressed in something subtly chic; he looks a lover of
delicatessen.
MONSIGNOR [to NADINE]:
Ah! Rome, Rome, in the days of Julia Farnese ...
NADINE [distrait]:
I suppose it must have been.
PRINCESS [to ENID]:
Come here, dear, and be introduced .... I want you to know each other.
NADINE [to LORD
ORKISH and REGGIE]: They're dancing the farandole. Quick and
choose your partner.
LORD ORKISH [objecting]:
My dancing days are over quite.
NADINE [taking
him and REGGIE up stage]: I'll not believe it!
[Exeunt LORD ORKISH and REGGIE to house.]
[Re-enter NURSE and infant, accompanied by a
squadron of small children. She holds a story-book. Crossing to pillared
circle, she seats herself sedately below the Virgin with the children grouped
about her. GLYDA shortly joins them.]
SCENE XVI
ENID, PRINCESS,
MONSIGNOR VANHOVE, then NADINE
PRINCESS: And so
the Pope lends his authority!
MONSIGNOR [twirling
his thumbs]: We have his prayers, his wishes.
PRINCESS: His
prayers, his wishes!
ENID: What could
you want more, dearest?
PRINCESS [holding
out her hand to her—the one
with the muff]: You dear girl—and
Nadine!
ENID [sublime]:
She would never leave her child.
MONSIGNOR [significantly]:
Whoever doth not take up the cross and follow Me, cannot be My disciple.
PRINCESS [with
feeling]: My dear Monsignor.
MONSIGNOR: And
isn't it so?
PRINCESS [exalted,
audacious]: I never wanted a child, I think, till now.
ENID [frivolous,
laughing]: Will you not be such a cynic.
PRINCESS: My dear,
I mean it.
ENID [in an
undertone]: Peculiar devotion ...
PRINCESS: And what
is going on down in Rome?
MONSIGNOR: Few
functions ...
PRINCESS: It's
full early yet.
MONSIGNOR [blinking]:
There was a ball the other evening at the Grand Hotel.
PRINCESS: Oh,
whose?
MONSIGNOR: The
Longfields'.
PRINCESS: I hear
she, Lady Longfield, is working havoc amongst the Cardinals, with her copper
hair, large moist eyes and liquid voice.
MONSIGNOR: And she
also subscribes to everything.
PRINCESS: It makes
one feel so jealous.
MONSIGNOR [suave]:
You are not forgotten.
PRINCESS: No?
MONSIGNOR:
Cardinal Ventifiore very often speaks of you.
PRINCESS: He took
me round Trastevere once. It stands out vividly in my mind like a first
infidelity.
MONSIGNOR: And
Domjonquil too.
PRINCESS: I
remember him, a great jaded-looking boy, almost as pale as the young man in St
Mark's who shows one the Pala d'Oro.
ENID [deliberatingly]:
I suppose, Zena, a long grey tangle of a veil?
PRINCESS: Where?
ENID: I was
thinking of our uniforms.
PRINCESS: All
that, of course, is in my prospectus.
NADINE [coming
down]: Monsignor Vanhove! Is it true they intend to build a new
Embassy? The front quite windowless, the back all glass?
MONSIGNOR [blinking]:
It's the first I've heard of it.
NURSE [serenely
reading]: "Then the wicked witch smeared her little limbs with
ram's-grease and twisted her round three times! In a trice, the walls of the
humble cottage fell away, and the palace appeared before them."
PRINCESS: Who told
you, Nadine, about the Embassy?
NADINE: Mr Hope.
PRINCESS: What
should "Tozhy" know?
NADINE [looking
round]: I'm so nervous of him. Since his exile here he has become a sort of
public loofah.
NURSE [continuing—on
the crest of her tale]: "From that same minute the princess determined
to follow the dictates of her heart, and refused to listen any longer to the
worldly maxims of the King and Queen."
MONSIGNOR: Ah,
sweet innocents!
NADINE [indicating
(l child]: See that little gollywog there? ... She's the Pontiffs niece.
ENID: Oh?
NADINE: The Pope
is her uncle
MONSIGNOR: She
will become florid in time, like her mother.
PRINCESS [glancing
towards the tree-tops]: Hark to the birds! How happy they must be. Singing,
singing, singing. Nearer to heaven than we are!
[Enter BLANCHE NEGRESS.]
SCENE XVII
Same. BLANCHE. She is wearing a tailor-made
"Redfern" and a man's cravat.
BLANCHE: I've come
to know if I may enrol myself?
PRINCESS: Eh?
BLANCHE: I
happened to hear you're starting a Sisterhood—not too straitlaced; and I
wish to offer myself as a probationer.
PRINCESS:
Certainly; if you've any Vocation at all!
BLANCHE: My work
is over in the world, you see. I have nothing to fight for now.
PRINCESS: Are you
even giving up your pen?
BLANCHE [confused]:
No ... but hotels and lodgings are such noisy places.
PRINCESS [doubtfully]:
I see ...
BLANCHE [rather
wildly]: Noise! Noise! Noise!
PRINCESS: But are
there no quiet rooms, back rooms, in back hotels—and in back places?
BLANCHE [tragically]:
I hate a silence that isn't real.
PRINCESS [graciously]:
Well, in the cypress-alleys of our Anchorage, I trust you will find
inspiration.
[Enter LADY ROCKTOWER]
BLANCHE: I'm sure
I shall; I feel it.
SCENE XVIII
Same. LADY ROCKTOWER
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
was obliged to go to the P. V. of the women-artists.
NADINE [offering
hand]: I adore Private Views!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
This was SO dull.
PRINCESS:
Everybody's here!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Some things are such an index. [Intensely:] Violet is parting with her Rosalba
....
NADINE: I wonder
why?
PRINCESS: She's
become so mercenary. She seems to have now a sort of hunger for money.
ENID: Disgusting!
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
fancy she gives it ...
MONSIGNOR [alert]:
Ah?
LADY ROCKTOWER [in
an undertone]: To a tall, dark man in the Pope's body-guard!
BLANCHE [breathlessly]:
I suppose her lover?
MONSIGNOR: In my
opinion, a woman may accept the consolations of Bacchus as soon as accept a
lover.
PRINCESS: Do you
really think she may?
ENID: Still every
now and then one's face needs transforming. And Love does it better than
anything else!
MONSIGNOR: It
depends, my child, upon the sort.
PRINCESS: I
suppose when one's husband is fifty-seven ...
LADY ROCKTOWER: My
dear, even a man of fifty-seven is better than nothing at all.
BLANCHE: I don't
agree.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
No?
BLANCHE: I've been
married, you know, too. Yet I sometimes think the simple comfort of a hot-water
bottle ...
PRINCESS [laughing]:
Well, I'm going to speak to the Wilson-Philipsons! I see Vicky over there.
[A few persons
emerge from house as if to enjoy the scene, which begins to take on the aspect
of sunset.]
BLANCHE: I mean to
be off-hand with her. She translates every one into terms of colour, and I hear
she called me a dirty white.
NADINE: She's guapa, as they say in
Spain!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Poor things, they live, no one quite knows how.
ENID: I passed
them all the other evening in a covered bullock-cart in the Viale dei Colli.
NADINE: Oh?
ENID: I just moaned
for joy! The big tears rolling!
[Re-enter MARCHESA PITTI-CONTI with her son DANTE.
He is sobbing. He has evidently been misbehaving himself The MARCHESA seems
furious—her English is perfect.]
SCENE XIX
Same. Plus MARCHESA and DANTE SILVIO PAOLAO
DANTE [sobbing]:
Boo-oo-oo! Ow-ow-ow!
MARCHESA: Did not
your father give you the choice, wicked little boy [pinching him], of
Oxford, Cambridge, Salamanca, Utrecht, Harvard, Glasgow, Edinburgh or
Heidelberg?
DANTE: Boo-oo-oo!
LADY ROCKTOWER [turning]:
Are you thinking of sending him to school?
MARCHESA: Ah, chère
madame ... !
LADY ROCKTOWER: II
est gentil ce grand gosse. [To ENID:] Je trouve qu'il est en train de
devenir charmant.
ENID: N'est-ce
pas?
MARCHESA [to BLANCHE]:
Bonjour, chère amie.
BLANCHE [all
there]: Come va?
MARCHESA: Bene,
grazie; e lei?
BLANCHE [all
there still]: Benissimo!
LADY ROCKTOWER: To
what school—a che scuola—shall you
send him?
MARCHESA [very
foreign]: I do not know.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
School, in my time, was not the soft place it is today.
MARCHESA: No? .
LADY ROCKTOWER: As
a young girl I used to be whipped with furze.
MARCHESA [appalled]:
Ah, chère madame ...
LADY ROCKTOWER [cheerfully,
rearranging the back of her dress]: I was all gorse-marks often!
[Re-enter LORD ORKISH]
SCENE XX
Same. Plus LORD ORKISH
LORD ORKISH: Young
Astix is in the loggia.
NADINE: Is he?
LORD ORKISH:
People are making such a fuss.
NADINE: Absurd.
His slender volume of verses, you could pass it under the door ....
LORD ORKISH [with
indifference]: I dare say.
NADINE: Why aren't
you dancing?
LORD ORKISH: I'm
too old.
NADINE: Or too
lazy, which!
MONSIGNOR: At the
fall, Florence tends to make one sluggish.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Yes; the autumn here is certainly enervating. Only this very morning I said to
Dr Mater, in the Boboli Gardens: "I have that tired feeling,
Doctor, again," I said; "and I can't think what it can be."
"Oh, Lady Rocktower," he said to me, with his piercing glance,
"I assure you it's nothing but the change of season."
MONSIGNOR:
Exactly.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
I'll be glad, though, I confess, for Lord Rocktower's sake, when winter sets
in.
LORDORKISH: And
how is my old pal Harry?
LADY ROCKTOWER: We
all thought him passing out a day or two ago. Dr. Mater told me—but oh, so
sweetly, oh, so gently—he could do nothing more, when suddenly he sat up and
asked for lobster soup. Lobster soup! There was none in the house, but within
an hour the soup was made—and he was saved!
LORD ORKISH:
Bravo!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Every time I let the Villa he seems to quite give way. [With a sigh of
resignation:] Lord Rocktower loves Florence and he loathes leaving it. ...
LORD ORKISH: I
don't wonder.
MARCHESA [to DANTE,
who is making grimaces at the Pope's niece]: Macché, macché!
ENID [to DANTE]:
Come, and I will gather you a few dahlias.
[She takes MARCHESA and DANTE up stage towards
a flower-plat, while NADINE and MONSIGNOR cross to pillared
circle where NURSE is seated. BLANCHE during progress of scene
has joined the little group which is watching sunset.]
LORD ORKISH: I
suppose, if Mrs Sheil-Meyer withdraws from Society, the next villa to
let will be this!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
I've no patience at all with her if she does.
LORD ORKISH: The
Princess Zoubaroff can be very persuasive.
LADY ROCKTOWER [with
rigour]: It's all very fine for Zena, who is no longer in her Springtime,
to retire. Six husbands must have left her with the minimum of a heart! But for
a young and pretty woman like Nadine Sheil-Meyer to give up the world, it's
another matter.
LORD ORKISH: Mrs
Tresilian is sure to follow suit!
LADY ROCKTOWER: Que
de sottises!
LORD ORKISH: From
sympathy.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
She trifles—she truffles—but I can't think she will.
LORD ORKISH [sententious]:
The Princess is one of those who, when they cast their spell—
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
always stick up for Zena Zoubaroff. I don't believe half! hear about
her! Although I dare say a good deal is true!
[They both
laugh.]
LORD ORKISH: It's
a pity their husbands can't appear just to bring them to their bearing.
[The farandole is heard.]
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Oh, they're coming out!
SCENE XXI
General Children,
hand in hand, emerge from house. Making a ring, they proceed to dance about the
garden Temple.
LORD ORKISH:
Youth, youth.
PRINCESS [approaching]:
I feel I want to dance!
LADY ROCKTOWER: My
dear Zena!
PRINCESS: I've had
Austrian Waltzes whirling through my head all day.
[REGGIE is seen
in the background pirouetting with MR ASTIX, the author—a wild young man
who looks like the Publishers' Ruin.]
LADY ROCKTOWER: Oh
... look at Reggie.
LORD ORKISH [moved]:
Dear, dear boy.
MONSIGNOR [coming
forward, benign]: Everywhere delicious innocence!
PRINCESS [boxing,
con amore, with her muff each little girl upon the ears as she goes by]:
Nun! Nun! Nun!
THE CURTAIN FALLS
ACT III
SCENE I
Same scene. A
Jew of the trees have shed their leaves. It is Winter. Through the bare
branches of the Judas-trees a Calvary is visible at the extremity of the
garden.
As the curtain
rises, NURSE is seen
strolling to and fro, exercising baby in his pram.
ANGELO follows
at her heels, singing strenuously to the guitar.
NURSE and INFANT,
ANGELO
NURSE: You young
Italians are all passion.
ANGELO [rhapsodically,
carolling]: Tra-li-lal-la!
NURSE: Not so
loud, you'll wake the child. [She takes from the pram a flask of Lacrima
Christi and drinks.]
ANGELO: Sapristi?
NURSE: My
favourite vintage! Plenty of body ...
ANGELO: Ah, che
roba!
NURSE: Yes, you
Italians are dangerous fellows .... [Sentimentally:] You make me think
of Dudley, Lord Bellforest's under-butler, long ago. [Drinks.] Ah, I've
been a buxom woman in my day, dear .... A little bit of proper simpatico I
was! And I'm good-enough yet, honey .... Some constitutions are just like this [drinking],
they improve with time. (Falling into reflection:] She was
forty-nine years old when she had me—my dear mother. And then there were two
after that.
ANGELO [shrugging]:
Che volete?
NURSE [cogent]:
Which is more than most of them could say (or do), your Tuscan Signoras!
ANGELO [indignant]:
I am not Tuscan myself at all. [Strumming his guitar.] My home is in
the South. Ah bella Taormina!
NURSE [sentimentally]:
Well; it's all South to me, dear.
ANGELO [shrugging]:
Per Bacco.
NURSE: This is
South all right for me [returning flask to pram].
ANGELO [yawning]:
How dull it is—ah, Dio.
NURSE: It's quiet
enough, it's true, now the mistress has gone.
ANGELO: Povera!
NURSE: I like a
place, I must say, where there's a bit of life. When I was with the Han. Mrs
Cortez, there was company if you like! Valets, chauffeurs, Parisian maids ...
gracious powers, you could take your choice. It was in her establishment [sighs]
I met my Albert.
ANGELO: Albert?
NURSE: Mr Mangrove—my
sposo!
[She sighs
several times heavily.]
ANGELO [with
morbid interest]: And was he tutto . .. tutto ... ?
NURSE [nodding]:
Tutto, tutto! That is to say, my dear, I never could bear him but in the
one capacity .... For, he never had any mind; or any understanding .... What
was he [snaps her fingers] but that!!
ANGELO: Ah!
NURSE [archly
winking]: But in the one capacity of love he was unexcelled.
[Baby begins to
require attention.]
[Enter REGGIE from roadway.]
SCENE II
Same. REGGIE
REGGIE [dapper,
smiling]: I blew in only to say good-morning to little Charles.
NURSE: That's very
kind of you, sir. [Raising baby:] Sit up and say good-morning to Mr
Quintus!
REGGIE: He's a
fine child, Nurse.
NURSE: He's a
little beauty, sir, as I'm his sainted nanny! [Confidential: I They
won't have him inside the convent, heaven protect us, for fear he'd flurry the
nuns!
REGGIE: Will you
kiss me, Charles?
NURSE: Kiss the
gentleman ....
REGGIE: That's
right.
NURSE: See how
he's laughing.
REGGIE: The rogue!
I fear he's a rogue, Nurse.
NURSE: He's a fine
fellow.
REGGIE: No
morals!!! He has no morals, I fear ....
NURSE: Oh! Why,
sir, why now?
REGGIE: Born in
Florence, a boy very rarely has.
NURSE: Don't be
hard on Florence, Mr Quintus, it's not near so fast, I'm sure, as San
Francisco.
REGGIE: I wonder?
ANGELO [wistfully]:
Ah, America ...
REGGIE: Still keen
as ever on visiting the States?
ANGELO [with
all the languor of "the South"]: Yes; oh yes.
REGGIE [twinkling
mysteriously]: Before you go, I must give you a letter of introduction to a
multi-millionaire—who's rather a friend of mine!—in Memphis, Tennessee.
ANGELO [delighted]:
Tante grazie!
REGGIE: Niente.
[The bell
tinkles. Murmuring his gratitude, ANGELO answers the garden-gate, after which be exits to house.]
[Enter, from
roadway, BLANCHE.]
SCENE III
Same. BLANCHE. She looks bot and dishevelled.
She bears a sack. She is dressed as a Nun. She gives one the impression rather
of an escaped peacock.
BLANCHE [dropping
her sack]: They sent me to wait here, with the victuals. [Groaning:] Out
at Monte Serravizza there isn't a thing.
REGGIE: What? Are
they coming up to the Villa today?
BLANCHE: Yes.
[NURSE, on
bearing this intelligence, briefly withdraws.]
REGGIE: The whole
cortege?
BLANCHE [seating
herself, mopping her brow]: We came into Florence—shopping, or begging—God
knows which ...
REGGIE [amused]:
A bit of both, I expect.
BLANCHE: My
wretched nerves; has Baccio Bertucci been?
REGGIE: Baccio
Bertucci?
BLANCHE: He
promised.
REGGIE [mystified]:
What?
BLANCHE [occult]:
It can't be helped. I suppose we must go without.
REGGIE: Your
Abbess, I'm told, is quite scoring as a Saint.
BLANCHE [irritated]:
Tsch! Who said so?
REGGIE: The
Rocktowers.
BLANCHE [intensely]:
Life at Monte Serravizza is quite indescribable.
REGGIE: It must be
wonderful.
BLANCHE: It's
nothing but backbiting from morning to night.
REGGIE: Oh!
BLANCHE: The
violence of religious jealousy, I know of nothing at all that can match it.
REGGIE: Violence?
BLANCHE: Zena's
becoming much too tyrannical.
REGGIE [perching
himself on a garden-chair]: Remember, these small sub-lunar trials will one
day pass!
BLANCHE: I hope
so, I'm sure.
REGGIE: Poor Mrs
Negress.
BLANCHE: Today—as
we were coming into Florence—I arranged my side hair [simpering] experimentally,
and she was furious. What are you doing with those whiskers? she
said to me. I won't have any whiskers here, arousing our thoughts ... .
REGGIE: Oh ... .
BLANCHE: While her
head was scrubbed but yesterday with henna.
REGGIE: She was
shampooed you say with henna!
BLANCHE [stalking
up and down, swaying her skirts from side to side like a Spanish dancer]: And
only the day before she ordered herself a crystal cincture from Paris.
REGGIE [tossing
his bat]: Ole, ole.
BLANCHE: Thoughts
indeed!
REGGIE [admiringly]:
Nobody can do outrageous things so naturally as she can!
BLANCHE: I admit
she's clever. She hushed up the affair of May Winterbottom most successfully.
REGGIE [awed]: There's
been a scandal?
BLANCHE: A
scandal!! The very night the first new novice arrived
REGGIE: Well?
BLANCHE: Zena
smelt smoke. Heavy smoke. All the corridors full of it, coming from the
sister's cell. She went to her door and oh the horror.
REGGIE [breathless]:
What?
BLANCHE: May
Winterbottom was smoking Opium.
REGGIE: Pouf!
BLANCHE: Yes.
REGGIE [rising
carelessly]: If the Princess should want a Pinturicchio for her chapel, by
the way, I know where there's one to be found.
BLANCHE: Indeed.
REGGIE: A lokanaan.
BLANCHE: Oh!
REGGIE: Or, I know
of a topping Tintoret.
BLANCHE: Thanks
... but I fancy she's on the scent of a Sainte Famille herself.
REGGIE: I'd give a
good deal for a permit of inspection!
BLANCHE [abysmal]:
There's no bathroom yet in the convent ... you just get caught in the rain
....
REGGIE:
Disgusting!
BLANCHE [with a
battered smile]: One of the few drawbacks.
REGGIE [looking
at his watch]: Well, I must go. I have to meet Lord Orkish in the town.
[Exit REGGIE through garden-gate. Re-enter, at
same moment, NURSE from house.]
NURSE: Perhaps
you'd prefer, m'm, to rest inside?
BLANCHE: I'm quite
happy here.
NURSE: You don't
look so, m'm.
BLANCHE: No?
NURSE [brightly]:
The Religious Life, it's not for everybody!
BLANCHE: No.
NURSE [confidential]:
She tried to coax me into it. ... But I didn't feel the call.
BLANCHE: My work
was over in the world, you see. I had nothing to fight for. [To ENID, who
enters:] I thought you were never coming.
SCENE IV
Enter from
roadway ENID, followed by NADINE
and PRINCESS. NADINE runs to baby's pram. PRINCESS (she holds
a tortoise-shell cat, like an unhappy "Society" woman, in her arms)
hovers a moment speaking to someone outside the gate. They look very pale, slim
and Isis-like in their grain-coloured Nuns' toilettes.
ENID [coming
down]: Sorry to be late, old girl.
BLANCHE [mortified]:
Old girl ...
ENID: We've been
getting ribbons from Monte—such a subtle old flowered-velvet, and yards and
yards and yards of green Georgette ...
BLANCHE [aggrieved,
staring at her sack]: What for?
ENID [airily]: Decoration.
PRINCESS [in
great good-humour]: Today, as a special treat, we're going back by auto!
BLANCHE:
Hallelujah!
PRINCESS: Did you
do all my little commissions?
BLANCHE: All
except the candles.
PRINCESS:
Tiresome.
ENID: You look
hot.
BLANCHE: My face
must be a looking-glass.
PRINCESS: Not
that.
BLANCHE: Had that
dreadful sack weighed much more I think I should have fainted.
PRINCESS [a
little guilty, excusing herself]: My dear, I'm desolate you should have had
to carry it at all about the streets, but what could I do?
BLANCHE [containing
herself]: Reggie Quintus has just gone.
PRINCESS: Really?
And I had wanted to see him.
BLANCHE: He was
telling me of a Tintoret, or something.
ENID [nodding]:
He's rather a judge.
NADINE [leaning
over pram, sorrowfully, to her son]: My poor pigeon ... I warn you to
expect nothing very much from life.
PRINCESS: What
makes her so oppressed?
ENID: She's
chagrined a little because I said her habit made her look hunched.
BLANCHE [critically]:
Distorted. And so it does!
ENID: And she was
dreaming again of Adrian.
PRINCESS: Once I
get a decent cook she'll not have these nightmares.
[BLANCHE draws
away a little, joining NADINE.]
ENID: I'm so glad
I'm not haunted with Eric!
PRINCESS [angelic,
virtuous]: May white dreams attend you always, dear. Amen.
ENID [earnestly]:
Amen.
PRINCESS [catching
marvellously her breath, as if her spirit, freed, had shot from earth to
heaven, and from heaven (back again) to earth]: Ah!
ENID: Blanche
seems nervy today.
PRINCESS [fluttered,
breathless yet]: Yes; unstrung ....
ENID: She says she
feels "jumpy."
PRINCESS [with
sudden brusqueness]: Can you wonder her nerves are what they are when she's
sipping alternative coffee and tea from seven in the morning to twelve at night?
[Enter from house,
LADY ROCKTOWER.]
SCENE V
Same. LADY ROCKTOWER. She looks slightly
embarrassed: her face is a trifle red. She is wearing the family pearls. She has
a hole in her veil.
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
saw you go by and guessed you'd be here.
[ENID retreats.]
PRINCESS [kissing
her à Ia Sainte Thérèse]: My dear Lady Rocktower?
LADY ROCKTOWER [clutching
her pearls]: I've come only to know if, dear—by any chance—you could
take my daughter in.
PRINCESS [stiffening]:
Take her in?
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Receive her.
PRINCESS: As a
novice?
LADY ROCKTOWER:
For a time.
PRINCESS [uncomfortable,
suspicious]: I fear she'd not be happy at Monte Serravizza; I fear our
austerities—our Rule—everything!
LADY ROCKTOWER [candid,
frank]: Glyda's so difficult and so giddy, and it's precisely for that.
PRINCESS [ethereal,
exquisite]: I was once heedless too!
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
would like to marry my daughter straight from your Convent door.
PRINCESS [still
evasive]: Marry her?
LADY ROCKTOWER [with
much dignity]: Well—un grand mariage!
PRINCESS [reassured
a little]: But ... could one manage her?
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
am sure you could. And oh [her voice breaks], I should be so grateful.
PRINCESS: From
what you say, I gather she's given her heart to someone.
LADY ROCKTOWER [making
a clean breast of it]: Poor child, she thinks herself in love with a young
Italian lieutenant ... though I thank God on my knees, dear Zena, she has
scarcely caught a glimpse of his shadow ... !
PRINCESS: You're
certain of that?
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Positive.
PRINCESS: I'll
come over one morning and have a quiet chat with Glyda—she and I, quite cosy! [Laughing
a little.] Although, really, I'm most awfully busy at present with my
liqueur.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
What liqueur?
PRINCESS: I'm
inventing a delightfully potent liqueur to be made by the nuns. The Holy Father
[rippling] was quite charmed with the few distilled drops I sent. He
pretends ... he pretends it will inspire him for Life!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Yes?
PRINCESS: We mean
to call it Yellow-Ruin ....
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
had an audience—my fifth!—only the other day.
PRINCESS: My dear,
you're always trotting to Rome!
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
adore it in Winter.
PRINCESS: Is there
lots and lots going on?
LADY ROCKTOWER:
The usual thing, there's been a function at the Quirinal which was dull, and
another at the Embassy, which was worse ... and apropos of recent
Diplomacy, Lady Winifred Wheeler has just presented Sir Walter Wheeler with a
black child. Such a commotion as there's been over it all.
PRINCESS [horror-struck]:
Black?
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Well, dear, dark; but, oh, SO dark!
PRINCESS [laughing]:
And the du Wilsons are just starting a Nursery, too.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
Poor little Violet ... ! She made me such a wan, sensitive smile in the street
just now.
PRINCESS: She
seems to think she should be asked to paint herself for the Uffizi. [Hilarious:]
Really, I never saw such cheeks!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
No; nor I. [Laughing, going.] Look in Thursday at the Villa, if you're
able. [Persuasively:] Sonino is singing ...
PRINCESS: Sonino?
Oh, when Sonino sings, one visualises everything one wishes!
LADY ROCKTOWER:
She is to throw in her sob of love, and sing three solos, for a special charge.
PRINCESS: It's
hard indeed to refuse, but we never go out at night. ...
LADY ROCKTOWER:
This once! Oh, and I nearly forgot, I wanted to ask you for that choice
receipt. Cocks' combs ... ?
PRINCESS: And the
hearts of artichokes!
LADY ROCKTOWER [smiling,
committing it to memory]: And the hearts of artichokes!
PRINCESS [impressively]:
Crush well.
LADY ROCKTOWER: A
more delicious dish ... you must give it me when I come to you—the days I visit
Glyda.
PRINCESS [leaning
on LADY ROCKTOWER's arm, and accompanying her towards the gate]: I'm
allowing the novices on feast days to receive their
friends in a
charming cognac chiffon.
LADY ROCKTOWER:
You all look so interesting, as it is!
PRINCESS [very
much pleased]: Do we?
LADY ROCKTOWER: I
almost envy you ....
PRINCESS: Dear
Lady Rocktower, perhaps some day—
LADY ROCKTOWER [as
she goes out]: Who knows? A husband's often a strain, and mine's not a
world-loving nature very.
SCENE VI
Same. Minus LADY ROCKTOWER
NADINE [advancing-during
LADY ROCKTOWER's visit she has withdrawn from view behind a tree]: And
how has he kept, Nurse, all the week?
NURSE: Well as
could be, thank you, marm.
NADINE: Poor
spirit—!
NURSE: Oh, he's a
little rascal!
NADINE: His little
laugh does one good.
ENID [quizzingly]:
He's a remarkably hideous child. Like a remarkably hideous duck ...
PRINCESS [abbessish]:
Prioress! Prioress!
ENID [dancing
mischievously about the pram]: Who ever had such a wobbly chin? Or such a
nervous, uncertain nose?
NADINE: He's like
his father!
ENID: Ugly ...
ugly ... like papa.
NURSE [crooningly]:
Where's Daddy??!
[Enter, from
garden-gate, ADRIAN and ERIC.
They both are looking wonderfully recouped and rejuvenated—as though their
extensive holiday had done them good. Which has benefited from his freedom most—which
looks the handsomer—it is not easy to determine.]
NADINE: When he
starts pummelling the air with his little pinkie-winkie fists, with his little
dimpled doigts, whatever can it be? I know he wants something ....
ADRIAN: Probably his
Father!
[Slow music: A
short Intermezzo (of a particularly "cloying" nature), coming from
the Orchestra, concludes the scene.]
SCENE VII
Same. ADRIAN, ERIC
NADINE [the
Intermezzo ended, very calmly through the hood of the pram]: Oh, Adrian, so
you have come back!
ADRIAN: As you
see.
ENID [to ERIC]:
You might have given us a sign.
ERIC [shortly]:
'Drian's been ill—we were unwilling to alarm you.
ENID [with
biting satire]: Alarm us!
ADRIAN: Do you
remember how scared you were in Egypt once?
NADINE: I can't
say I do.
ADRIAN: There's no
use to cut up rough.
NADINE [trenchantly]:
You're unwanted.
ENID: Quite
unwanted!
PRINCESS [interposing]:
Your wives are Dedicated!
ADRIAN: I beg your
pardon?
ENID [to NADINE]:
Don't they jar.
ERIC [catching
her by the veil]: Lor' lummie, what's this?
ENID [furious]:
Don't touch me!
ERIC [assertive]:
That's as I choose.
ENID [freeing
herself]: Oh, the horrid man—he hit me.
PRINCESS: He hit
you?
BLANCHE [wailing]:
Sacrilege!
ENID [smacking ERIC
smartly with her rosary]: Ah! Monster!
NURSE [panting]:
Well, I never.
[ANGELO appears.
I
NADINE [crucified]:
S-s-s-sh! Avoid a scena before the servants.
ERIC: Aie ....
BLANCHE [hysterically]:
Oh! This is awful.
ANGELO [announcing]:
The auto ...
ENID [quietly,
threatening him with her scourge]: Oh, Eric ... don't exasperate me more!
NADINE [with
the upturned glance of a martyr]: I refuse to wrangle.
PRINCESS [inviolate,
evoking Calvary]: Come!
ENID [doing a
little picturesque skirmishing]: Beast!
ERIC: The bitch
bit me.
BLANCHE [picking
up her sack and making for the gate]: My knees refuse to carry me.
NADINE: Yes. Let's
go.
ADRIAN [indifferent]:
As you please!
NURSE [to NADINE]:
I wish to give warning!
NADINE [callous]:
Very well.
PRINCESS [to NADINE
and ENID]: Come, chicks!
NADINE [in her
vividest voice]: Mind the step, Zena.
PRINCESS [turning
defiantly at gate]: The Vatican shall hear of this!
[Exeunt PRINCESS, NADINE and ENID.]
SCENE VIII
ADRIAN, ERIC
ADRIAN [dropping
into a chair]: I thought perhaps we should find they'd remarried or
something, but I'll be cursed if I thought they'd console themselves as they
have!
ERIC [at pram]:
The boy must be yours?
ADRIAN [blushing,
confused]: I suppose I'm his father ...
ERIC: What on
earth are you going to do with the little beggar?
ADRIAN: I shall
look out for a school for him tomorrow.
ERIC: No, really,
Adrian?
ADRIAN [loftily]:
I shall set at once about his education.
ERIC [bending
over pram]: Isn't he just too fat for anything!
[The outside
bell is beard to ring.]
ADRIAN: What's
that?
ERIC [uneasily]:
My God, if they should have returned ....
[Re-enter ANGELO. He saunters languidly over to
garden-door.]
[Voice of LORD ORKISH, off]: I must have missed Mr
Quintus: and I know he comes here most days to play with the child.
[Voice of ANGELO, off]: The Master has come home!
LORD ORKISH [entering]:
What?
SCENE IX
Same. LORD ORKISH
ADRIAN [surprised]:
Henry ... !
LORD ORKISH [considerably
moved, proffering his hand]: My dear, dear fellow.
ERIC: Henry?
[Under the
peculiar circumstances, they very nearly all embrace.]
LORD ORKISH [wonder-struck]:
And how amazingly fit you look: you seem to have grown much younger.
ERIC [smiling]:
We've had a top-hole time! 'Drian was seedy, though, at first.
ADRIAN: Nothing at
all to speak of!
ERIC: I refused
to let him die.
ADRIAN [nodding]:
Eric soon nursed me round!
LORD ORKISH: And
your estimable wives—you've heard of them, of course.
ADRIAN: Yes, and
seen them too—what's more!
ERIC [hilarious]:
They must have passed you. They went off in a taxi, a snug half-dozen.
LORD ORKISH: What?
They've gone? They've left you? ...
ADRIAN:
Apparently.
ERIC: It's all I
can do to believe it.
LORD ORKISH [with
feeling]: Lucky chaps.
ERIC: Delicious to
be so dispossessed ...
LORD ORKISH [leering
a little]: Well, they're not the first to come to Florence to turn
themselves into prudes!
ADRIAN [pointedly]:
As you very well know, dear Harry.
LORD ORKISH: I
take it you'll live apart, as we do—Lady Orkish and I—by "mutual
consent."
ERIC: Yes.
"Mutual consent."
LORD ORKISH: No
odious fuss.
ERIC: I hope not.
LORD ORKISH: I
assure you, after the first day I never missed Bella.
ERIC [stretching
luxuriously his arms]: To be free, to be single!!!
ADRIAN [addressing
rapturously the garden]: Dear lawn. My own beautiful trees.
LORD ORKISH: He's
enchanted to be home. [Sighing:] Well, there's no spot on e·arth to
compare with Florence!
[The outside
bell is beard to ring again. ANGELO
answers it as before. Enter a tiny boy in buttons. He has with him a faggot
of huge Church candles.]
SCENE X
Same. ANGELO, BOY
ANGELO [having
ascertained the boy's business. To ADRIAN]: He comes from the
Church-furnishers in Borgo Santi Apostoli.
ADRIAN: From
where?
ANGELO: From
Baccio Bertucci's ....
ADRIAN [sharply,
to boy]: Be off with you.
ANGELO: He say the
Signora order the candles!
ADRIAN: Tell him
to hook it.
ANGELO [clapping
his hands]: A Monte Serravizza—laggiù.
ERIC [pointing,
in desperation]: Laggiù, laggiù.
ANGELO: Via,
via.
LORD ORKISH [patting
the child's head]: Run away, there's a good little sinner.
[Exit boy,
followed by ANGELO.]
SCENE XI
LORD ORKISH, ERIC,
ADRIAN, INFANT, then ANGELO
ADRIAN: The
Eleusinian priestesses weren't in it!
LORD ORKISH: Have
you formed yet any plans?
ADRIAN: I shall
stop here. It will amuse me infinitely to see what they'll do!
LORD ORKISH [flippantly]:
I shouldn't wonder much if they weren't back in Lewis hats and diamonds
before tonight.
ERIC [terrified
at the idea]: Oh don't ... if Enid puts in an appearance again I shall take
the first express to Rome.
ADRIAN: You're
safe enough, Eric; Enid has no ties.
ERIC: No ties?
ADRIAN [with a
touch of conceit]: She isn't a mother!
LORD ORKISH: It
must take an exceptionally "good" woman to forsake husband, son,
friends, society, to follow the Way of the Cross.
ADRIAN: It's quite
on the cards that Nadine was only bored. Besides, she hasn't deserted her friends
at all. I believe but for Princess Zoubaroff she'd be here now.
ERIC: The Princess
seems to have fairly bewitched them!
LORD ORKISH [humming
pensively to himself]: With a hey-ho-hey, and a nonny.
ADRIAN: You're
right.
LORD ORKISH: I
wish she'd rake in Bella.
ADRIAN: Perhaps
she will.
LORD ORKISH: And
the old white cat ...
ADRIAN: What old
white cat?
LORD ORKISH: The
Countess Willie!
[The baby
begins to fidget.]
ADRIAN [wheeling
the pram about]: S-s-sh ... maddening.
LORD ORKISH: I'd
like to know what you'll do with him.
ADRIAN: Tomorrow
he goes to school.
LORD ORKISH: Does
he? By George! Well, I always believe in a boy getting used to the world as
soon as possible.
ADRIAN: To be duly
prepared.
LORD ORKISH: I
know of an incomparable little Lycée here in Florence. ... [Sighing
blissfully.] Incomparable instructors: incomparable boys. Incomparable, incomparable.
Everything incomparable.
ADRIAN [rather
doubtfully]: I dare say.
LORD ORKISH: Just
the thing.
ERIC: Whereabouts
is it, Harry?
LORD ORKISH: Via
Canta; a vermilion-gold brick Palace in the very heart of the town!
ADRIAN [bending
over pram with smiling raillery]: We're probably very backward ... we
probably know nothing at all?
[The baby
howls. Re-enter ANGELO.]
ANGELO: E'
pronto il pranzo!
ADRIAN [lightly]:
You’ll stay a pranzo, Harry?
LORD ORKISH:
Thanks.
ADRIAN [menacingly
to baby]: Stop it!
ERIC: And you
shall play us each at pills after, what?
ADRIAN: I hope the
nuns haven't injured the cloth!
[The bell rings
violently.]
ERIC (paralysed]:
Oh, my God ... if it should be ...
[The
garden-gate opens slightly—a handful of leaflets falls inside.]
LORD ORKISH: Confetti?
ADRIAN [relieved]:
It's only a circular_.
ERIC: I thought it
was Enid.
LORD ORKISH [optimistically]:
I wouldn't worry. So long as the Princess chooses, she'll not leave the
Sisterhood, I'll be bound.
ERIC: I sincerely
hope you're right.
LORD ORKISH [chuckling
to himself]: And she'll guard her close, believe me!
ERIC [to ANGELO,
who has picked a leaflet up]: What's it all about?
ANGELO [thrilling
with exaltation, as though what he read was for him an article of faith]: Oggi:
Cinema Reale: grande rappresentazione! ... Saffo—Gli Amanti di Mitelene.
ADRIAN [with a
gesture of impatience]: Oh, throw it away.
ANGELO (perusing
still, his whole face alight]: La Bella Courtezan ... La Pompadour ... Una
Assassina d'Amore ... La Vita di Londra ...
ADRIAN [with
the pram moving towards the house, followed by ERIC and LORD
ORKISH]: By the by, I don't even know my child's name!
ERIC: He gives me
the impression rather of an Hermione ...
ADRIAN: Hermione?
Nonsense, Eric. He has an air of Claud. Or Gervase even.
ERIC: Gervase?
ADRIAN [to
baby]: Hello, Gervase!
LORD ORKISH (prosaically]:
His name's Charles.
ADRIAN [disappointed]:
Charles!
LORD ORKISH:
Charles Augustus Frederic Humphrey Percy Sydney.
ADRIAN: I intend
calling my son Gervase.
ERIC: Why not
Gerry?
ADRIAN: No;
Gervase.
ERIC: Gerry!
[Exeunt,
Gerrying and Gervaseing one another to house.]
ANGELO [still
perusing the leaflet, dawdling, in tones of sheerest ecstasy and joy]: La
Pompadour ... La Vita-Dollar .... Looking like some statue of Verrocchio, be
raises his arms yearningly, murmuring, "Dollar!"
"Dollar!" "La Vita-Dollar!
THE CURTAIN FALLS
No comments:
Post a Comment