Green Stockings: A Comedy in Three ActsMason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
General
Green Stockings: A Comedy in Three Acts
Mason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
Comedy plays; England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Drama
EVELYN. (_With mild surprise_) Distinguished Service Order.
PHYLLIS. (_Reading_) "West African Rifles."
EVELYN. (_Crossing_ R. _to morning room_) I suppose that's the man.
PHYLLIS. It must be. (_Replaces army list in book slide and runs
after_ EVELYN _toward morning room to electric light switch by door_)
The Rifles wear green thing-a-majigs on their tunics, don't they?
EVELYN. Yes, I think they do.
(PHYLLIS _switches off light and then_ EVELYN _puts out lamp in the
morning room as they exit chatting. The room is lighted now only by
the firelight and light in card room. As soon as the stage is clear_,
CELIA _enters cautiously. She goes to table_ R., _looks for large
envelope, finds it and throws it quickly into the fire, not looking at
its contents. She stands thinking a moment, then goes to table_ L.,
_looks at book rack, snatches out army list, crosses and, after making
sure that it is the army list by looking at it in the firelight,
throws it into the fire_. NOTE: _The electrician should at this point
flash on and off a thirty-two amber lamp in the fireplace to give the
impression of the burning of the envelope and army list that_ CELIA
_has thrown into the fire_. AUNT IDA, _who has remained out of sight
in the card room, enters as_ CELIA _crosses to fire with book_.)
AUNT IDA. Why, Celia.
CELIA. (_Turns around, startled. Goes to light switch up_ R. _and
turns on lights_) Oh, it's you, Aunt Ida.
AUNT IDA. (_Comes down and crosses to center and sees book in flames_)
Celia, what was that?
CELIA. (_Sitting on fender and swinging her foot_) That? The army
list.
AUNT IDA. The army list? And you burned it? Celia!
CELIA. Well, Aunt Ida.
AUNT IDA. (_Beside chair_ L. _of table_ R. _In low voice, almost
tearfully_) Celia, darling, have you been doing something--foolish?
(CELIA _laughs_.) Is there--is there--anything peculiar about--Colonel
Smith?
CELIA. (_Smiling_) What would you call--peculiar, Aunt Ida?
AUNT IDA. (_With great gentleness, but evidently distressed_) Forgive
me, dearest. It is--is there anything about Colonel Smith you don't
want the family to know?
CELIA. Yes. (_Going to_ AUNT IDA _above chair_ R. _Laughs_) There
is--something--about Colonel Smith--I don't want the family to know.
(_Laughs_.)
AUNT IDA. Why, isn't he--what you said?
CELIA. (_Looking at_ AUNT IDA _and laughing_) He is not.
AUNT IDA. (_Timidly_) No--?
CELIA. He is--not!! (CELIA, _above chair_ R., _swings_ AUNT IDA _into
it_.)
AUNT IDA. Mercy, child! Don't drive me crazy! He is not--not what?
CELIA. Not at all. (_Looks at_ AUNT IDA _and begins to laugh
irrepressibly_.)
AUNT IDA. Celia!
CELIA. (_Bends above_ AUNT IDA, _putting her arms about her from back
and kissing her neck_) Hush--listen, dear---- Will you swear you won't
betray me?
AUNT IDA. But--Celia!
CELIA. Will you promise, Aunt Ida? I know I can trust you if you will
only really promise never to breathe a word of what I am going to tell
you to any living being?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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