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
AUNT IDA. Well--but--I am not sure.
CELIA. Oh, very well, then--if you don't want to (_Crosses to chair_
R. _of table_ L. _and sits_.)
AUNT IDA. No, no, Celia, I promise. There now, I have promised.
CELIA. Very well, then. (_Slowly and emphatically_)
There--isn't--any--Colonel Smith.
AUNT IDA. (_Helplessly_) There--isn't--any--Colonel?
CELIA. None.
AUNT IDA. Then who is he?
CELIA. He _isn't_. I invented him.
AUNT IDA. (_Rising_) But, Celia--your engagement?
CELIA. Well, naturally I invented that too.
AUNT IDA. Celia Faraday, you are not telling the truth.
CELIA. (_Shaking her head_) No.
AUNT IDA. (_Going towards_ CELIA) You are deceiving everybody.
CELIA. Yes.
AUNT IDA. You are being frightfully immoral.
CELIA. Yes.
AUNT IDA. (_Startled_) And how on earth are you going to keep them
from finding out?
CELIA. (_Taking_ AUNT IDA'S _hand_) Well, first of all, dear, a
regiment did sail for Somaliland this morning.
AUNT IDA. Yes, but regiments sail back.
CELIA. Wobbles won't.
AUNT IDA. Wobbles?
CELIA. (_Laughing to herself_) Isn't that a heavenly name, Aunt
Ida,--Wobbles?
AUNT IDA. (_Turning away from_ CELIA _reprovingly_) Celia!
CELIA. (_Still seated, throwing out her arms with a big gesture_) Oh,
the difference that dear, dear man is going to make in my life. Oh,
the difference.
AUNT IDA. (_Going back to_ CELIA _and putting her hand on her
shoulder_) Oh, my dearest child. Do give up this mad scheme and come
back with me and be happy in Chicago.
CELIA. Oh, I couldn't give it up now. It's going to be too much fun.
Now be a dear and stand by me through this and then I'll go to Chicago
and stay there forever, but first let me have this one mad experience,
do let me enjoy my blushing triumph as a brave and absent soldier's
adored fiancée. (_Crosses to table_ R. _and straightens writing
things_.) Do you know, Aunt Ida, I just loved writing that first love
letter to him just now.
AUNT IDA. But Celia, your letter!!!
CELIA. That is all right, dear. I burned that. Do you know what I am
going to do, Aunt Ida? (_Suddenly throwing herself in chair_ L. _of
table_ R.)
AUNT IDA. What?
CELIA. I am going to make it a point now to shut myself alone in my
room every afternoon for hours--let someone else look after the house
and the servants while I correspond with Wobbles. (AUNT IDA _laughs_.)
I am going to give myself a chance at last. I'm going to do all sorts
of wonderful things.
AUNT IDA. (_Down_ C.) What?
CELIA. (_Rising and coming to her_) I don't know what, but I'm going
to do them. One day I'll wear a haunted look in my eye as I gaze sadly
toward Somaliland. I wonder where it is. (_Looks around_.) The next,
I'll have a merry laugh or else a mocking smile. By day, I'll wander
through the woods and think of him. By night, I'll sit before the fire
and dream of him.
AUNT IDA. Celia! Celia!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account