The Admirable Crichton | Page 9

lady now by his side has derived as much pleasure from his company as he has derived from hers, he will be more than satisfied.
(All look at TWEENY, who trembles.)
For the time being the artificial and unnatural--I say unnatural (glaring at CRICHTON, who bows slightly)--barriers of society are swept away. Would that they could be swept away for ever.
(The PAGEBOY cheers, and has the one moment of prominence in his life. He grows up, marries and has children, but is never really heard of again.)
But that is entirely and utterly out of the question. And now for a few months we are to be separated. As you know, my daughters and Mr. Ernest and Mr. Treherne are to accompany me on my yacht, on a voyage to distant parts of the earth. In less than forty-eight hours we shall be under weigh.
(But for CRICHTON'S eye the reckless PAGEBOY would repeat his success.)
Do not think our life on the yacht is to be one long idle holiday. My views on the excessive luxury of the day are well known, and what I preach I am resolved to practise. I have therefore decided that my daughters, instead of having one maid each as at present, shall on this voyage have but one maid between them.
(Three maids rise; also three mistresses.)
CRICHTON. My lord!
LORD LOAM. My mind is made up.
ERNEST. I cordially agree.
LORD LOAM. And now, my friends, I should like to think that there is some piece of advice I might give you, some thought, some noble saying over which you might ponder in my absence. In this connection I remember a proverb, which has had a great effect on my own life. I first heard it many years ago. I have never forgotten it. It constantly cheers and guides me. That proverb is--that proverb was-- the proverb I speak of--
(He grows pale and taps his forehead.)
LADY MARY. Oh dear, I believe he has forgotten it.
LORD LOAM (desperately). The proverb--that proverb to which I refer--
(Alas, it has gone. The distress is general. He has not even the sense to sit down. He gropes for the proverb in the air. They try applause, but it is no help.)
I have it now--(not he).
LADY MARY (with confidence). Crichton.
(He does not fail her. As quietly as if he were in goloshes, mind as well as feet, he dismisses the domestics; they go according to precedence as they entered, yet, in a moment, they are gone. Then he signs to MR. TREHERNE, and they conduct LORD LOAM with dignity from the room. His hands are still catching flies; he still mutters, 'The proverb--that proverb'; but he continues, owing to CRICHTON'S skilful treatment, to look every inch a peer. The ladies have now an opportunity to air their indignation.)
LADY MARY. One maid among three grown women!
LORD BROCKLEHURST. Mary, I think I had better go. That dreadful kitchenmaid--
LADY MARY. I can't blame you, George.
(He salutes her.)
LORD BROCKLEHURST. Your father's views are shocking to me, and I am glad I am not to be one of the party on the yacht. My respect for myself, Mary, my natural anxiety as to what mother will say. I shall see you, darling, before you sail.
(He bows to the others and goes.)
ERNEST. Selfish brute, only thinking of himself. What about my speech?
LADY MARY. One maid among three of us. What's to be done?
ERNEST. Pooh! You must do for yourselves, that's all.
LADY MARY. Do for ourselves. How can we know where our things are kept?
AGATHA. Are you aware that dresses button up the back?
CATHERINE. How are we to get into our shoes and be prepared for the carriage?
LADY MARY. Who is to put us to bed, and who is to get us up, and how shall we ever know it's morning if there is no one to pull up the blinds?
(CRICHTON crosses on his way out.)
ERNEST. How is his lordship now?
CRICHTON. A little easier, sir.
LADY MARY. Crichton, send Fisher to me.
(He goes.)
ERNEST. I have no pity for you girls, I--
LADY MARY. Ernest, go away, and don't insult the broken-hearted.
ERNEST. And uncommon glad I am to go. Ta-ta, all of you. He asked me to say a few words. I came here to say a few words, and I'm not at all sure that I couldn't bring an action against him.
(He departs, feeling that he has left a dart behind him. The girls are alone with their tragic thoughts.)
LADY MARY (becomes a mother to the younger ones at last). My poor sisters, come here. (They go to her doubtfully.) We must make this draw us closer together. I shall do my best to help you in every way. Just now I cannot think of myself at all.
AGATHA. But how unlike you, Mary.
LADY MARY. It is my duty to protect my sisters.
CATHERINE. I never knew her so