Garside's Career: A Comedy in Four ActsBrighouse, Harold
General
Garside's Career: A Comedy in Four Acts
Brighouse, Harold
English drama -- 20th century
Peter. Yes, if you like, thank God for it. It deserved to go. But
nothing's left worth living for.
Mar. I'll give you that.
Peter. What?
Mar. The object, Peter. Don't say again you don't know why I came.
Peter. Yes, Margaret, I know.
Mar. Why not admit it, then?
Peter. Because I daren't. A man who's fallen as I fell deserves no
second ehanee. I've been a silly fool, but it won't mend that to be a
criminal fool.
Mar. What do you mean by being a criminal fool?
Peter. I might have acted as I meant to act when next I saw you.
Mar. How did you mean to act?
Peter. I meant to ask forgiveness on my knees for all the things I said
to you. Up in my room I'd come to see it all, sec what a swine I'd been,
how right you were, how much you knew me better than I knew myself. I
thought in London that I'd met the worst. I thought my bitterest hour
was past. But worst and bitterest of all was when I realised all that
I'd done to you, all that that doing made me miss.
Mar. (_hardly_). Then when I came you didn't do as you intended.
Peter. Margaret, I saw you and I felt ashamed. It's one thing to decide
within one's mind to do a thing, but quite another thing to do it in
the flesh. I saw you, saw the suffering in your face and knew that I had
caused it all. I felt ashamed to speak.
Mar. Ashamed to ask forgiveness? Ashamed to carry out your plan?
Peter. We weren't alone. There were others there.
Mar. Just pride, in fact. You were too proud to ask. And when the others
went?
Peter. Oh, yes. Yes. Pride again. Then, too, until----
Mar. Till when? You've not asked yet.
Peter. Margaret, am I worth while forgiving?
Mar. Peter, when your mother let me come, I came.
Peter. Yes!
Mar. So I thought it worth while.
Peter. Margaret, you are so beautiful, and I----
Mar. Listen to me, Peter. You tell me I am beautiful. You told me I am
young. I am, but I'm a year older than I was twelve months ago. Twelve
months ago, when you----
Peter. Yes. I know.
Mar. It's been a crowded year for you. (_Gesture from Peter._) Too
crowded, yes, but there was glamour in it all. You've paid a price, but
you've known the flavour of success. You've had your fun. I've spent
my year in Midlandton--(_Peter shudders_)--a plaee where one can live,
Peter. Oh, yes, one can. But I've been lonely here. A year's dropped
from me sadly, slowly. I've kept myself alive and that, the daily round,
is all my history, while you--well, never mind. The past is past. We're
where we were a year ago, a little older, just a little less in love
with life, but still we're here, Peter. You and I, just as we were
before.
Peter. Just as we were?
Mar. Why not? Love understands. We're both a little scarred. We both
need picking up and making whole. We need each other, Peter.
Peter. You need me! Margaret, you're not just putting it that way
because----
Mar. Because it's true. We need each other badly.
Peter (_taking her_). Margaret!
Mar. So you will have me, Peter?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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