Лорд Дансейни - Plays for Earth and Air

ANGELA: Robert! I can’t believe it. I can’t believe she’s there.

PERDINS: You always used to believe me, Angela.

ANGELA: Yes, when you told of that glorious figure, the goddess with the golden trumpet, and the wreath of bays in her hair, and the flash in her eye. You made me believe you whenever you spoke of her; but an old woman with wet sandals, I can’t believe that, not even for you, Robert. I believe the old Robert of forty years ago; not this one.

PERDINS: You don’t believe she’s there?

ANGELA: No, Robert. I can’t.

PERDINS: Very well, very well. Just as you like. ( He goes to the door and opens it. ) Just as you like. ( To interior of the next room. ) Would you kindly step this way, madam, if you are rested yet.

FAME ( off ): Yes, yes. I’ll come.

Slow steps, then enter FAME leaning on an ordinary walking–stick .

PERDINS ( to ANGELA): I had to lend her a stick.

FAME ( to PERDINS): My sandals, are they dried? ( To ANGELA.) You see, I have to be rather careful now.

PERDINS: Yes, madam; they must be quite dry now.

FAME ( to ANGELA): It’s very tiresome, but if I keep them on when they’re in the least wet I only get all tired and cold.

ANGELA: Yes. Yes, of course.

FAME: So I asked Mr. Perdins to dry them for me.

ANGELA: Yes, of course; that’s much best.

FAME: And now if you’ll let me just rest on this sofa I’ll put them on and get quite rested.

PERDINS: Certainly madam. ( To ANGELA.) So, you see, she has come.

ANGELA: Yes.

PERDINS: There she is.

ANGELA: I know what a disappointment this must be to you.

PERDINS: Oh no.

ANGELA: I know that it must be, Robert. We all get such disappointments.

PERDINS: No, really. You know, all things age. And Fame cannot be now what she was when we both were young. Nothing is, and we can’t expect it to be. ( Anxiously. ) She’s, she’s all right, you think?

ANGELA: Oh, yes. She’s only resting.

PERDINS: Well, you see, we can’t expect it. I mean we can’t expect her to be always what I know she was then. I know that nothing would ever have tired her then.

ANGELA: I know. But I’m sorry.

PERDINS: You’re sure she’s all right? She’s looking very pale.

ANGELA: I think she’s only tired.

PERDINS: Well, if she’s been looking for me all these years she must have had a long way to come.

ANGELA: It’s a great disappointment, Robert; but I know you’ll face it.

PERDINS: Oh, yes, of course I’ll face it. It’s only the disappointment coming on top of the excitement of seeing her, the two things all in one day; it makes a bit of a strain on one’s resources.

ANGELA: Yes, I know.

PERDINS: So I’ll rest a little too.

ANGELA: Yes, that’s right. And I’ll look after her. You lie down there.

PERDINS: Yes. Yes, I will for a bit.

ANGELA: That’s right. And don’t get up till you’re better. I must go over to her.

PERDINS: Thanks, yes…. I, I, it’s been a good deal of a strain. Too much, perhaps.

But she hardly hears, for she is suddenly alarmed by the pallor of FAME, and goes to her .

PERDINS breathes heavily and grows worse .

I think, you know Angela, I think, you know, I thought too much of Fame. Forgive me, Angela. ( He dies. )

ANGELA: Never mind Robert. Never mind now.

Then she bends anxiously over FAME. But FAME is rapidly regaining health and youth. In fact she covertly removes a mask. ANGELA turns and sees PERDINS dead. She runs over to him.

( To FAME.) Oh come and help. Come and help. You aren’t too old to help.

FAME: Old? I have many moods. ( She comes over and takes her wreath from her head. ) That was only one of my moods. ( She puts it on PERDINS’ head. She is young and beautiful. ) I am not old. I am immortal.

She lifts her trumpet and sounds peals from it, while ANGELA looks up in almost happy wonder .

CURTAIN

Dramatis personæ - * Sir John * the Nurse * Sir Algernon Griggs * Mr. Smew

SCENE: The bedroom of a dying man.

TIME: Late 19th century.

NURSE ( in door ): Good–bye, Doctor.

SIR JOHN: Is he gone?

NURSE: Yes, Sir John.

SIR JOHN: That’s good. What’s the time?

NURSE: Five to twelve.

SIR JOHN: Nurse, how long have I got?

NURSE: Oh, come, come.

SIR JOHN: How long have I got?

NURSE: But you mustn’t take that gloomy view.

SIR JOHN: Have I got twenty minutes?

NURSE: Of course you have, if only you won’t worry yourself.

SIR JOHN: A man can’t help doing that, if his mind’s not at ease.

NURSE: Now you mustn’t be thinking of little worries.

SIR JOHN: It’s no trifle.

NURSE: Isn’t it? I was speaking to the vicar yesterday, and he promised to come round at one o’clock. Will you have a talk with him? He’s very understanding.

SIR JOHN: The vicar? No, no. He’s not a man of the world. He’d never understand.

NURSE: A talk with him might ease your mind.

SIR JOHN: No, no. He’d never understand. It’s a delicate point, and few men whose opinion I’d ask. But isn’t it twelve yet?

NURSE: No, not yet, Sir John.

SIR JOHN: Look out of the window, would you, Nurse? And tell me if you see two men coming.

She goes.

NURSE: Not yet, Sir John.

SIR JOHN: There is no one more punctilious than Griggs. He promised to come at twelve. Your watch must be wrong.

NURSE: It’s not twelve yet, Sir John.

SIR JOHN: But you should see them coming by now. They’d never be late, either of them. Griggs’ word, small things or great, he never broke it. You see him?

NURSE: Not yet, Sir John. Yes, yes, I do. Two gentlemen walking.

SIR JOHN: I told you so, Nurse. I had his word for it.

NURSE: Yes, they’re both coming up to the door.

SIR JOHN: Nurse, never mind my poor body. There’s a weight on my mind. We must try and get that off first. So leave me, will you, for a little while when they come.

NURSE: I’ll be in the next room, Sir John.

SIR JOHN: Thank you, nurse, thank you.

NURSE: And he’ll put your mind at ease.

SIR JOHN: I hope so, nurse. He’ll tell me one way or the other. But he’s so straight himself, that if it’s the other, he’ll say it; even now.

NURSE: How nice to have a friend like that.

SIR JOHN: Straight as a die.

NURSE: Is he really?

SIR JOHN: Both of them.

NURSE: But you will see the vicar afterwards, won’t you?

SIR JOHN: Well, we’ll see. We’ll see what Sir Algernon can do for me.

Enter SIR ALGERNON GRIGGS and MR. SMEW.

SIR JOHN ( to SIR ALGERNON): My dear old boy. ( To SMEW.) My dear Arthur.

SIR ALGERNON: Well, well.

SIR JOHN: Algy old boy, I asked you to come. And you, Arthur.

SIR ALGERNON: And glad to come, my dear boy. But sorry to see you like this.

SMEW: Yes, yes indeed.

SIR JOHN: Well never mind that. One has to go. Never mind that, so long as one’s lived straight.

SIR ALGERNON: None straighter, old boy, none straighter.

SMEW: None straighter.

SIR JOHN: That’s the point.

SIR ALGERNON: Eh?

SIR JOHN: That’s why I sent for you. I want to ask you, old man.

SIR ALGERNON: Eh?

SIR JOHN: You remember that Bishop’s wife?

SIR ALGERNON: He–he–he. Yes, indeed. She beat you old boy. ( To SMEW.) It was his only defeat wasn’t it? But she beat you. Even the greatest conquerors you know….