Quality Street: A Comedy. Barrie James Matthew
Читать онлайн книгу.
SUSAN. Oh dear!
PHOEBE. If he refuses send him here to me.
(Exit PATTY.)
MISS SUSAN. Lion-hearted Phoebe.
MISS WILLOUGHBY. A soldier? (Nervously) I wish it may not be that impertinent recruiting sergeant. I passed him in the street to-day. He closed one of his eyes at me and then quickly opened it. I knew what he meant.
PHOEBE. He does not come.
MISS SUSAN. I think I hear their voices in dispute.
(She is listening through the floor. They all stoop or go on their knees to listen, and when they are in this position the RECRUITING SERGEANT enters unobserved. He chuckles aloud. In a moment PHOEBE is alone with him.)
SERGEANT (with an Irish accent). Your servant, ma'am.
PHOEBE (advancing sternly on him). Sir – (She is perplexed, as he seems undismayed.) Sergeant – (She sees mud from his boots on the carpet.) Oh! oh! (Brushes carpet.) Sergeant, I am wishful to scold you, but would you be so obliging as to stand on this paper while I do it?
SERGEANT. With all the pleasure in life, ma'am.
PHOEBE (forgetting to be angry). Sergeant, have you killed people?
SERGEANT. Dozens, ma'am, dozens.
PHOEBE. How terrible. Oh, sir, I pray every night that the Lord in His loving-kindness will root the enemy up. Is it true that the Corsican Ogre eats babies?
SERGEANT. I have spoken with them as have seen him do it, ma'am.
PHOEBE. The Man of Sin. Have you ever seen a vivandiere, sir? (Wistfully) I have sometimes wished there were vivandieres in the British Army. (For a moment she sees herself as one.) Oh, Sergeant, a shudder goes through me when I see you in the streets enticing those poor young men.
SERGEANT. If you were one of them, ma'am, and death or glory was the call, you would take the shilling, ma'am.
PHOEBE. Oh, not for that.
SERGEANT. For King and Country, ma'am?
PHOEBE (grandly). Yes, yes, for that.
SERGEANT (candidly). Not that it is all fighting. The sack of captured towns – the loot.
PHOEBE (proudly). An English soldier never sacks nor loots.
SERGEANT. No, ma'am. And then – the girls.
PHOEBE. What girls?
SERGEANT. In the towns that – that we don't sack.
PHOEBE. How they must hate the haughty conqueror.
SERGEANT. We are not so haughty as all that.
PHOEBE (sadly). I think I understand. I am afraid, Sergeant, you do not tell those poor young men the noble things I thought you told them.
SERGEANT. Ma'am, I must e'en tell them what they are wishful to hear. There ha' been five, ma'am, all this week, listening to me and then showing me their heels, but by a grand stroke of luck I have them at last.
PHOEBE. Luck?
(MISS SUSAN opens door slightly and listens.)
SERGEANT. The luck, ma'am, is that a gentleman of the town has enlisted. That gave them the push forward.
(MISS SUSAN is excited.)
PHOEBE. A gentleman of this town enlisted? (Eagerly) Sergeant, who?
SERGEANT. Nay, ma'am, I think it be a secret as yet.
PHOEBE. But a gentleman! 'Tis the most amazing, exciting thing. Sergeant, be so obliging.
SERGEANT. Nay, ma'am, I can't.
MISS SUSAN (at door, carried away by excitement). But you must, you must!
SERGEANT (turning to the door). You see, ma'am —
(The door is hurriedly closed.)
PHOEBE (ashamed). Sergeant, I have not been saying the things I meant to say to you. Will you please excuse my turning you out of the house somewhat violently.
SERGEANT. I am used to it, ma'am.
PHOEBE. I won't really hurt you.
SERGEANT. Thank you kindly, ma'am.
PHOEBE (observing the bedroom door opening a little, and speaking in a loud voice). I protest, sir; we shall permit no followers in this house. Should I discover you in my kitchen again I shall pitch you out – neck and crop. Begone, sir.
(The SERGEANT retires affably. All the ladies except MISS HENRIETTA come out, admiring PHOEBE. The WILLOUGHBYS are attired for their journey across the street.)
MISS WILLOUGHBY. Miss Phoebe, we could not but admire you.
(PHOEBE, alas, knows that she is not admirable.)
PHOEBE. But the gentleman recruit?
MISS SUSAN. Perhaps they will know who he is at the woollen-drapers.
MISS FANNY. Let us inquire.
(But before they go MISS WILLOUGHBY has a duty to perform.)
MISS WILLOUGHBY. I wish to apologise. Miss Phoebe, you are a dear, good girl. If I have made remarks about her ringlets, Susan, it was jealousy. (PHOEBE and MISS SUSAN wish to embrace her, but she is not in the mood for it.) Come, sister.
MISS FANNY (the dear woman that she is). Phoebe, dear, I wish you very happy.
(PHOEBE presses her hand.)
MISS HENRIETTA (entering, and not to be outdone). Miss Phoebe, I give you joy.
(The three ladies go, the two younger ones a little tearfully, and we see them pass the window.)
PHOEBE (pained). Susan, you have been talking to them about V. B.
MISS SUSAN. I could not help it. (Eagerly) Now, Phoebe, what is it you have to tell me?
PHOEBE (in a low voice). Dear, I think it is too holy to speak of.
MISS SUSAN. To your sister?
PHOEBE. Susan, as you know, I was sitting with an unhappy woman whose husband has fallen in the war. When I came out of the cottage he was passing.
MISS SUSAN. Yes?
PHOEBE. He offered me his escort. At first he was very silent – as he has often been of late.
MISS SUSAN. We know why.
PHOEBE. Please not to say that I know why. Suddenly he stopped and swung his cane. You know how gallantly he swings his cane.
MISS SUSAN. Yes, indeed.
PHOEBE. He said: 'I have something I am wishful to tell you, Miss Phoebe; perhaps you can guess what it is.'
MISS SUSAN. Go on!
PHOEBE. To say I could guess, sister, would have been unladylike. I said: 'Please not to tell me in the public thoroughfare'; to which he instantly replied: 'Then I shall call and tell you this afternoon.'
MISS SUSAN. Phoebe!
(They are interrupted by the entrance of PATTY with tea. They see that she has brought three cups, and know that this is her impertinent way of implying that mistresses, as well as maids, may have a 'follower.' When she has gone they smile at the daring of the woman, and sit down to tea.)
PHOEBE. Susan, to think that it has all happened in a single year.
MISS SUSAN. Such a genteel competency as he can offer; such a desirable establishment.
PHOEBE. I had no thought of that, dear. I was recalling our first meeting at Mrs. Fotheringay's quadrille party.
MISS SUSAN. We had quite forgotten that our respected local physician was growing