Plays 6 Read online

  Burchill Thank you.

  Sophy Can we expect your company at the ball tomorrow evening, Mr Burchill?

  Burchill Is it to be a masked one?

  Mrs Primrose Masked? My girls!

  Burchill Then I’m afraid I have some business to attend to elsewhere.

  Mrs Primrose (aside) Business indeed! And that young chaplain of Mr Thornhill’s, Reverend Jenks: possessed of such good manners, Mr Burchill, and will have nothing but to secure Sophia’s hand for the dancing.

  Burchill Perhaps then I can devise a means of attending.

  Mrs Primrose He’s a baritone, dontcha know, and has promised us all kinds of modern songs.

  Burchill There is very little genius in the modern song. Indeed, I consider it contributes vastly to false taste. The lines are loaded with epithet, which perhaps improve the sound but do not carry on the sense. Also, we are given combinations of luxuriant images without connection or plot. But perhaps you will give me the opportunity of introducing to the company a ballad of my own composing which, whatever its defects, is, I am sure, free of those I have mentioned. Miss Sophia, would you be so good as to accompany me? ‘Turn Gentle Hermit of the Dale’. It was discovered in my musical studies in Italy that my voice covers all three ranges: bass, baritone, tenor. Tonight I shall sing baritone. An excellent supper, Madam.

  There are thirty-nine verses in the song and Burchill (a boring baritone) sings as many of them as are required for transition. Soon, he loses Sophy too, his accompanist, as she, like the others, must change for the next scene.

  Turn gentle hermit of the dale,

  And guide my lonely way,

  To where yon taper cheers the vale,

  With hospitable ray.

  For here forlorn and lost I tread . . . (Et cetera.)

  Scene Two

  The Ball

  A bowl of punch/mulled wine on a drinks table: Thornhill, Jenks, Blarney and Skeggs around it, tasting it, doing things to it.

  Skeggs Ow! it’s nice.

  Thornhill It requires more.

  Blarney Steady, Teddy: enough.

  Thornhill No, more, more! Spike it, Frank! Now, remember your purpose: full tubs every time for the old dowds, half-measures for the young dotes.

  Blarney Too much haste, Teddy, and – Thornhill It has to be tonight!

  Skeggs Yikes! –

  Blarney Yeeks!

  The last in reaction to Mrs Primrose, who is entering in her party dress and who, they fear, may have seen them doctoring the drink.

  Thornhill (to himself) Damme!

  Blarney What fashion! How enchanting!

  Skeggs Je suis!

  Mrs Primrose This? (Old thing.) No! But I was never a stranger to fashion, your ladies. At Wakefield I was everywhere imitated in it no less than in wit.

  Thornhill Dearest Madam!

  Mrs Primrose Mr Thornhill! My bon mots, dontcha know.

  Jenks A warming cup, Madam? (Offering her a drink.) Not as individual as your gooseberry wine, but – interesting.

  Mrs Primrose I wil-mot.

  Jenks Beg pardon?

  Mrs Primrose Wilmot, Mr Thornhill? A little bird has twittered a tale: the glad tidings, Mr Thornhill, of your engagement to a beauteous Miss Arabella Wilmot?

  Thornhill Miss – ? Dang me!

  Blarney Every little chit in the country, my dear, would link her name with cousin Teddy’s.

  Skeggs Every little horrid little chit and scrub.

  Thornhill takes drink from Jenks, puts it in Mrs Primrose’s hand, taking her aside to reassure her.

  Thornhill And strike me ugly – and may you eat this cup – if anyone can call that fright a beauty . . .

  The others arriving: Vicar and Olivia – beautiful and nervous – Sophy, Moses, Dick and Bill and Farmer Flamborough. Mrs Primrose – now laughing, reassured – and Thornhill joining them. Spiked drink being handed around as greetings are exchanged.

  Vicar blinking after drinking; his glass is being filled up again.

  Flamborough Oh, right, rare, good rum it be, Vicar!

  Skeggs Who that?

  Mrs Primrose A native.

  Blarney Let him approach!

  Vicar Our nearest neighbour, Lady Blarney, Farmer Flamborough.

  Blarney These last two days, Thornhill Castle is become quite unbearable for ladies-in-residence as a compliment can be had only for two young ladies out-of-residence.

  Skeggs Who shall be nameless.

  Vicar (narrating) The ball. Ahm . . . (His memory of the ball seems peculiarly poor – and he would like to cover the fact. He retires to get/receive another drink.)

  Blarney But we’re saying all the wrong things, Carolina: the dear boys’ blushes are no less than the ladies.

  Skeggs Who shall be nameless.

  Blarney Run along, my dears, be happy!

  Thornhill Miss Primrose.

  Olivia Sir.

  Thornhill May I have the honour?

  They go to the dancing area – as do Sophy and Jenks, a moment later. The music starts up and they dance.

  Burchill enters background, briefly, being careful not to be seen, and leaves again.

  Flamborough Livy’s feet be as pat to the music as its echo.

  Blarney Surely they were made for each other.

  Mrs Primrose Yes, my girls do it very cleverly, but all those steps were stolen from me, Lady Blarney.

  Flamborough Let’s see them then in their ancient origins.

  He does not give Mrs Primrose a chance to refuse and they join in the dance.

  Vicar (narrating) Yes, the ball. Ahm . . . And I was glad to see that Deborah was not too old to join in the fun. But, ever mindful of my calling, and with my customary vigilance, I – Skeggs Ow, come on, Vicar!

  And Vicar dances – a spirited dance – with Skeggs. The following exchanges during the dance:

  Olivia Oh, Mr Thornhill –

  Thornhill Miss Primrose –

  Olivia You are being precipitate –

  Thornhill Oh, may I have the intimacy? –

  Olivia You are being too hasty –

  Thornhill Olivia, Olivia –

  Olivia Oh, Mr Thornhill –

  Thornhill Oh, may I call you Olivia?

  Olivia Yes.

  Thornhill Oh, thank you, Miss Primrose!

  Jenks (a moment later) May I call you –

  Sophy No!

  Butler – Thornhill’s servant – comes in, an air of timid urgency. He can’t get Thornhill’s attention and he confides a message to Blarney.

  The dance continues.

  Olivia I cannot, Mr Thornhill –

  Thornhill You can –

  Olivia Oh, I cannot –

  Thornhill You can –

  Olivia Oh, Mr –

  Thornhill Call me Ned –

  Olivia Oh, Mr –

  Thornhill Call me Ned and make me happy.

  Olivia Ned.

  Jenks (a moment later) Call me Frank and –

  Sophy No!

  The dance ends.

  Skeggs By the living jingo, I’m in a muck of sweat!

  Vicar There’s a shortage of chairs.

  Thornhill ’Tis easy resolved, Vicar: let every gentleman sit in his lady’s lap.

  Vicar Tut, we cannot . . .

  But the others are laughing at Thornhill’s wit. And Vicar laughs too.

  Blarney (calling him) Teddy!

  Thornhill (aside to Olivia) Don’t move.

  Olivia I won’t.

  Thornhill, highly pleased with himself, to Blarney for the message brought by his servant, Butler.

  Vicar (brushing the air in front of his face) See – feel – hear a mist, anybody? (And has another drink.)

  Thornhill Blast him! (Returns to Primroses.) Sirs, ladies, I am summoned to the Castle. My uncle is to arrive at any moment and I am to be there to receive him. (Returns to others.) My entire financial circumstances – present and future – are dependent on him. (He is walking in circles. To his servant, Butler, t
he messenger.) Out of my way or I’ll lash you like a hound! (To Olivia.) I could cry.

  Olivia Beg – ? (‘Pardon’. But he’s gone again.)

  Jenks Bad luck, Ned –

  Thornhill You’re coming with me!

  Skeggs Oh, Capting! (She’s sad for him.) And look, the old ones are full cut already!

  Blarney (calls) Let the music continue! (She has been working out an alternative plan.) Get them to London.

  Jenks Like we always do, Ned.

  Thornhill Then look to that chance and your craft will have a bonus on the head of its usual recompense.

  Blarney, Skeggs and Jenks confer/conspire. Thornhill to Primroses.

  Vicar Does he mean his – uncle?!

  Thornhill My esteemed, sir.

  Vicar Come to these parts – Sir William Thornhill?!

  Moses Whom senates listen to with applause and parties hear with conviction?!

  Vicar Oh my dear young sir, do not apologise for having to leave.

  Thornhill bows and returns to his friends.

  Blarney It means a postponement, Teddy, but leave it to us.

  Thornhill (grimly) How can I support this delay? I desire the lovely girl so much I already want her sister.

  And he is gone with Jenks.

  Olivia’s disappointment. Vicar and Moses looking off reverently in the direction of Thornhill Castle. And Burchill now enters. And Sophy, finding Burchill suddenly beside her – he has taken out a whistle and is playing it – gets a fright.

  Sophy Oh, Sir!

  Blarney (cueing Skeggs) How agreeable you –

  Skeggs (‘Oh yes!’) How agreeable you make the countryside, mum. Did we ever think it was possible, your ladyship?

  Blarney And how sad we are to be leaving.

  Mrs Primrose Your ladyships are returning to London?

  Blarney Alas, Madam, the day after tomorrow. (A cue.) And oh –

  Skeggs And oh, if there was some way to make more lasting acquaintanceship!

  Blarney We shall have to do with Sir Tomkyn’s company, Carolina, Countess Burdock and that lot in Hanover Square.

  Skeggs Horrid!

  Burchill Fudge!

  Skeggs But then your ladyship has her compositions and verses to keep her amused.

  Blarney But did I not tell you?

  Skeggs No!

  Blarney I’ve had to forgo them.

  Skeggs Your compositions!

  Blarney Since my reader and companion, Miss Quill, left me to run off with – you-know-who.

  Skeggs Capting Roach? Now you’re up against it!

  Blarney And I have for some time been looking for a replacement.

  Burchill Fudge!

  Blarney Who he?

  Mrs Primrose rolls her eyes.

  Skeggs Let him approach!

  Burchill Fudge! (And leaves.)

  Skeggs How horrid ungenteel!

  Blarney And I have for some time been looking for a replacement, Carolina.

  Skeggs And your ladyship is not going to find it no easy matter to find the proper person.

  Blarney Don’t I know it, my dear! And, to be sure, thirty pounds is a small stipend for a well-bred girl that can read and write and behave in company.

  Skeggs And where are you going to find those qualities in those little – those little –

  Blarney Chits –

  Skeggs Those little chits about the town? – For of the last three companions I had, one refused to do plain work for a single hour a day, another thought twenty-five guineas too small a salary, and – and! – I was obliged to send the third packing because I suspected an intrigue with – you-know-who.

  Blarney Capting Roach?

  Skeggs The chapling.

  Blarney Virtue, my dear!

  Skeggs Is it not worth – any price?

  Blarney But where is it to be found?

  Skeggs Where?

  Olivia and Sophy, as well as Mrs Primrose, have been attending the above. Mrs Primrose, Vicar, Flamborough and Moses are drunk at this stage.

  Mrs Primrose I hope your ladyships will pardon my present presumption and allow me to speak. (Calls.) Dr Primrose! Well, to say that my girls have a pretty good education. At least, the whole country cannot show better. Girls.

  Sophy We apply ourselves with diligence to what we pursue.

  Olivia Oh, London!

  Skeggs D’you hear, Lady

  Blarney Shh! Continue.

  Mrs Primrose You are vastly kind. They can read and write and cast accounts. They understand their needle, broadstitch, cross and change, and all manner of plain work. They can pink, point and frill, they know something of music, they can do small clothes and work upon catgut, Sophia can cut paper and – both – have a very pretty manner of telling fortunes in teacups.

  Skeggs (to Blarney) Hmmm?

  Blarney Mmmmmm!

  Skeggs It strikes me, Lady Blarney, that the young ladies are not unfit for –

  Blarney (sharply) I am very much aware of it, Hon Skeggs! But a thing of this kind requires a more perfect knowledge of each other. Not that we suspect the young ladies’ virtue, prudence and discretion, but there is a form to these matters, Madam, there is a form.

  Mrs Primrose Oh, we understand and if I were in your position – if you will pardon another presumption on my part – I too would be suspicious. But I suggest – pardon, presumption – you refer to any member of Dr Primrose’s flock for the character of my girls.

  Blarney Not necessary, mum. I shall refer the matter to one person only, Carolina, and be guided by his recommendation of my Olivia.

  Skeggs And who is that?

  Blarney Why, my cousin, Squire Thornhill.

  Skeggs ’Pon my word, if I shan’t do the same for my Sophia!

  Lights fading. The others go off, leaving Blarney and Skeggs who call:

  Blarney Adieu! We shall call in the morning with our decision!

  Skeggs Adieu!

  Blarney We have them at the edge of the pit.

  Skeggs D’you think it’s right? I mean, to push them in.

  Blarney Push.

  Skeggs What fun!

  Blarney Yeeks!

  Skeggs Yikes!

  Suddenly, they have jumped back in alarm. Out of the ground, as it were, has risen a figure, Burchill. He flashes open his overcoat, produces a letter and hands it to them. And he is gone. They read the letter with trembling hands, drop it and run off for their coach.

  Scene Three

  A Bed

  A candle. Vicar and Mrs Primrose in bed.

  Vicar (vaguely; brushing the air in front of his face) Still a little of that mist . . . (About the place.)

  Mrs Primrose Well, I think we made a good day’s work of it.

  Vicar Pretty good.

  Mrs Primrose Only pretty good? I think very good. London. My girls. And I’m told it is the only place for all manner of husbands.

  Vicar But don’t we hang on young Thornhill’s reference? You see! You’re running ahead again, my dear.

  Mrs Primrose A formality. Mr Thornhill will be more than eager to forward the plan. What could be better for him than the training Olivia will acquire to qualify her for his fortune?

  Vicar Then what advantage London and its open market in husbands if, as you continue to suggest, Olivia is already fixed? You see!

  Mrs Primrose The London market is for Sophia. And not a moment too soon, Charles. I’m growing alarmed at these repeated visits of Mr Burchill and the attentions he is paying Sophia.

  Vicar Mr Burchill I confess has had me in a puzzlement.

  Mrs Primrose Witness that rudeness tonight.

  Vicar But I’ve hit on it at last.

  Mrs Primrose ‘Fudge!’ While Lady Blarney was speaking.

  Vicar ‘Hah, Primrose!’ (That’s how he addresses me.)

  Mrs Primrose I tell you, my dear, there’s something queer.

  Vicar Mmm.

  Mrs Primrose Hmm?

  He nods.

  Do you mean?

&n
bsp; Vicar There can be no two ways about it.

  Mrs Primrose That he is deranged?

  Vicar The poor dear man.

  Mrs Primrose And would he ever turn violent, do you think?

  Vicar No . . . No.

  Mrs Primrose Then I am not sure I find your explanation adequate. No, Charles, you shall speak to both Sophia and Mr Burchill tomorrow. And, meanwhile, to raise a little money, we’ll be getting on with selling Blackberry.

  Vicar How, child? What is this now? To sell Blackberry! give me your reasons.

  Mrs Primrose A dozen. He just gets fat. He has a walleye and a spavin. Without a companion he’s useless, single, at the plough –

  Vicar Deborah –

  Mrs Primrose And now that we’re about to hold our heads a little higher, it is not proper to own such an animal.

  Vicar We shall not sell Blackberry.

  Mrs Primrose Later on we’ll buy a horse.

  Vicar But he is a horse!

  Mrs Primrose Phoo! A horse as is suitable for riding on, to carry single, or double if it should make a pretty picture.

  Vicar Deborah, my dear –

  Mrs Primrose We can discuss it in the morning. Thirty pounds and twenty-five guineas a year going a-begging.

  Vicar And so is my wife.

  The last is the kind of remark that usually causes a row but, this time, when they look at each other they start to giggle, without knowing why.

  Mrs Primrose Pray, total, Charles.

  Vicar Makes . . . fifty-six pounds and five shillings.

  Mrs Primrose English money. Goodnight, my dearest.

  They kiss.

  Vicar (blows out the candle) Goodnight, my dear.

  Mrs Primrose Don’t you think I did well by my children?

  He gets out of bed and removes his night-shirt – under which is his usual dress.

  Vicar Well, as the journey of my daughters to the town seemed resolved upon, and as it was thought that their appearance should begin to equal the greatness of their expectations, a way had to be found of raising some extra money. And, as Blackberry was useless single at the plough, on the following morning I took him to the fair in the neighbouring town. Well, truth to tell, I was tired of being always wise.

  He walks off.

  Scene Four

  Outdoors

  Morning. Dick and Bill run across to call and wave.

  Dick Bye, Papa, goodbye, Blackberry!

  Bill Bye, Blackberry, goodbye, Papa!

  Dick, first, returns the way he came, picking chestnuts and putting them in his pockets. He picks up a paper. What interests him in the paper – we assume from his delicate manoeuvring of it – is a ladybird which he is endeavouring to transfer from the paper to the back of his hand.