Лорд Дансейни - Plays for Earth and Air

VICAR: I never said I did want help. And I don’t know how you got in.

DARK STRANGER: I beg your pardon. If you don’t want help I was mistaken, and I was wrong to come in from any direction. I beg your pardon and I will go at once; though I might have helped you.

VICAR: How could you have helped me?

DARK STRANGER: Ah. That is a most relevant question, most strictly to the point. I have the power to help you.

VICAR: But how do you know what I want?

DARK STRANGER: I have the power to know.

VICAR: A very curious statement. I don’t see how you can know, and I don’t see how you can help me. I have a sermon to write, and I only know of one way in which you can help me.

DARK STRANGER: By going away?

VICAR nods .

And yet you weren’t doing so well before I came. Your sermon, if you will, may move all who hear it to tears.

VICAR: Even … ?

DARK STRANGER: Even the bishop.

VICAR: But you can’t do that.

DARK STRANGER: I have the power to do it.

VICAR: You? You have the power?

DARK STRANGER: Yes.

VICAR: And the power to know what I am thinking?

DARK STRANGER: Yes.

VICAR ( growing more uneasy ): And the power to enter through locked doors?

DARK STRANGER: Yes.

VICAR: Then, if that is true, if that is true, then I know what you demand in exchange. I know, and you’ll never get it. Never! Never! Never!

DARK STRANGER: And what do I ask in exchange?

VICAR: My salvation.

DARK STRANGER: Ha. Ha. Ha. My dear sir, really. Do you think I have only one price for everything? Like Woolworth’s? Shall I tell you all I ask in exchange?

VICAR ( grimly prepared for the worst ): Well?

DARK STRANGER: Merely that within an hour your sermon shall be derided by all who heard it.

VICAR: But you said it would move them to tears.

DARK STRANGER: Yes, every one.

VICAR: But they can’t deride it after that.

DARK STRANGER: They will.

VICAR: Well, let them; if once I have touched them to tears. If once I have moved their hearts like that.

DARK STRANGER: You shall.

VICAR: And the bishop?

DARK STRANGER: He with all the rest.

VICAR: To tears, mind you.

DARK STRANGER: They shall weep every one.

VICAR: They can’t deride it after that.

The DARK STRANGER shrugs his shoulders, turning out his hands, and smiles .

But whatever they do, I shall have had my hour.

DARK STRANGER: You will have had your hour.

VICAR: Then I accept your bargain.

Twice the DARK STRANGER waves his arm .

DARK STRANGER: It shall be as I said.

He vanishes as best he can.

VICAR ( sits a long while, with the paper before him ): I wonder if I have done right. ( Suddenly he writes rapidly. )

Darkness falls, and when it is light again there are tea and sugary buns on the table, and many more chairs, and it is 5.30 p.m. next day.

MRS. UPSHOTT is busy with the tea–table, and attending with the greatest interest to every detail of the approaching entertainment, though she is weeping copiously .

Enter the

BISHOP

and

MRS. BELTHAM,

with

=Mrs.

Muncheon=, SIR EDWIN MARTRAP, MR.

and

=Mrs.

Pursnip=

and

MR. MEEDLE,

the

BISHOP’S

chaplain

.

MRS. UPSHOTT: Oh, my lord, I’m afraid Mr. Sliggen will be a little late. There’s so many people congratulating him. They won’t let him come.

BISHOP: Never mind. Never mind.

MRS. UPSHOTT: Coming away from the vestry they hemmed him in.

BISHOP: Never mind.

MRS. UPSHOTT: So I just ran on and came here, and I hope you’ll begin. I’m not ashamed to cry, you see; I’m not ashamed to.

BISHOP: No. Never mind.

The BISHOP, tho’ much more restrainedly, is crying too, as are the whole party. He sits down mopping his eyes and nose and gives a last snuffle.

Well, we must pull ourselves together.

The BISHOP’S CHAPLAIN first, and the rest more gradually, get control of their tears, but the cakes are handed round in a rather lugubrious silence. The =Dark Stranger= appears at the window, peering in expectantly, almost anxiously, till the BISHOP speaks. None of them can see him.

An impressive sermon.

The DARK STRANGER seems satisfied, and disappears .

MRS. MUNCHEON: Oh, very.

SQUIRE ( to MRS. BELTHAM): It was a very good sermon. Wasn’t it?

MRS. BELTHAM: Yes, very good.

MRS. PURSNIP: I thought so too.

MRS. BELTHAM: Oh yes, it was quite.

MRS. PURSNIP: Yes, that’s what I thought. ( To CHAPLAIN.) Don’t you agree, Mr. Meedle?

CHAPLAIN: Yes, entirely.

There have been far more buns and tea than conversation.

MR. PURSNIP ( to CHAPLAIN): I thought it was quite good.

CHAPLAIN: Yes, wasn’t it.

SQUIRE: He used some good phrases.

MRS. BELTHAM: Yes, didn’t he?

MRS. PURSNIP: Yes, I noticed that.

MRS. BELTHAM: Yes, several times.

MRS. PURSNIP ( to CHAPLAIN): I like a good phrase.

CHAPLAIN: Oh yes. They have their uses.

MR. PURSNIP: I rather like the way he wound up.

CHAPLAIN: Oh yes, he wasn’t a bit too long.

MR. PURSNIP: No, not a word.

CHAPLAIN: But very often they are, you know.

MR. PURSNIP: Yes, I suppose you often hear too much of a sermon.

CHAPLAIN: Oh, yes, a sermon should never be too long.

BISHOP: I should say, I should say, that this young man would do well.

MRS. MUNCHEON: Oh I am so glad to hear you say that.

BISHOP: Yes, I think so.

MRS. MUNCHEON: I am so glad, because I’ve quite got to like him.

BISHOP: A clever sermon is often of great help to a young man, because it gives him confidence.

MRS. MUNCHEON: And it was a clever sermon?

BISHOP: Oh, I am sure of it.

MRS. MUNCHEON: And it was a good sermon, do you think? I mean, in the true sense.

BISHOP: Oh, I hope so. I hope so, indeed.

SQUIRE: I hope we’ve got a good preacher in young Mr. Sliggen. What do you think Mrs. Beltham?

MRS. BELTHAM: Oh, I should say so.

SQUIRE: Well I’m glad of that, because the last one we had … oh, thank you. ( Takes a sugary cake from MRS. UPSHOTT.)

MRS. BELTHAM: Oh, I expect he’ll be all right.

MRS. PURSNIP: We are the people that suffer when they aren’t.

MRS. BELTHAM: Oh, I expect he’ll be all right.

MRS. PURSNIP: I do hope so.

CHAPLAIN: I think I can promise you that he’ll do quite well.

MRS. PURSNIP: Well, I’m glad of that, because you can’t think what it is when you have to hear a dull sermon every Sunday.

CHAPLAIN: No. I hope you won’t have to.

BISHOP: It’s always an anxiety with young clergymen to know how they’ll do.

MRS. MUNCHEON: I do hope Mr. Sliggen will turn out a good preacher.

BISHOP: I think so. I think so.

MRS. MUNCHEON: It must always be an anxiety to you till you’re sure.

BISHOP: It is. It is. Thank you. ( He takes a sugary bun from MRS. UPSHOTT.)

SQUIRE ( to MRS. BELTHAM): I don’t know what we’ll do if he turns out to be no better at sermons than the last vicar we had.

MRS. BELTHAM: Oh I think he is a better preacher than Mr. Steggles was.

SQUIRE: I’m very glad to hear you say so.

MRS. BELTHAM: Though I shouldn’t like to say for certain. After all, Mr. Steggles was a man of experience.

SQUIRE: Yes, yes. And Mr. Sliggen’s quite young.

MRS. BELTHAM: I’m afraid so.

SQUIRE: Well, we’ll do what we can to help him on a bit.