"I'll Leave It To You": A Light Comedy In Three ActsCoward, Noël
General
"I'll Leave It To You": A Light Comedy In Three Acts
Coward, Noël
Comedy plays; Inheritance and succession -- Drama
JOYCE. Well, you've broken your word once, so you can do it again.
Vangy! Vangy! (_She goes to window, still dragging_ FAITH.) Sylvia!
Oliver! Bobbie!
EVANGELINE. What on earth is the matter?
JOYCE. Faith will tell you when the others come. (_Dragging_ FAITH _back
to_ C.)
FAITH. Look here, this isn't a bit fair of you. Bobbie will never
forgive me....
JOYCE. I can't help Bobbie's troubles--you should have thought of that
before.
(_Enter_ SYLVIA _and_ OLIVER _from garden._)
OLIVER. What's up?
JOYCE. The moment Bobbie comes, you shall know--yell for him, Oliver....
(FAITH _attempts to escape,_ SYLVIA _stops her._)
OLIVER (_goes to window and yells_). Bobb-ie! Hurry up, we want you.
BOBBIE (_off_). All right--coming....
(_They wait in silence_--JOYCE _still holds firmly on to_ FAITH'S _arm.
Enter_ BOBBIE _from garden--rather breathless. The positions are as
follows:_--EVANGELINE _down_ R. SYLVIA R.C. _above Chesterfield._
BOBBIE _a little above_ SYLVIA _slightly on her_ L. FAITH C. JOYCE _on_
FAITH'S L. OLIVER _up_ L.)
BOBBIE. What's the bother?
JOYCE. Now, Faith, tell them.
FAITH. I won't.
JOYCE. Very well, I will--it's most important--listen, all of
you--Bobbie was flirting with Faith this afternoon, and he told her that
Uncle had singled him out from us all to leave his money to....
BOBBIE. Oh, Faith, how could you. (FAITH _crosses to window_ L.)
SYLVIA (_judiciously_). Is this true, Bobbie?
BOBBIE (_miserably_). Yes, but I couldn't help it....
SYLVIA. Of course you couldn't. Don't be silly--now _I'll_ tell you
something. Uncle said exactly the same thing to me.
EVERY ONE. What!
OLIVER. So he did to me, the dirty dog.
JOYCE. Yes, I guessed as much when Faith told me--he promised his whole
fortune to me if I won prizes and things at school.
EVANGELINE. Well, I needn't tell you that he said the same to me.
BOBBIE. What's his game?
SYLVIA. Hadn't we better ask him?
OLIVER. Yes, where is he?
EVANGELINE. Upstairs writing letters, washing and being ill.
SYLVIA. Run up and fetch him, Bobbie.
BOBBIE. All right.
(_Exit upstairs two at a time._)
OLIVER. I'd love to know what he's up to.
JOYCE. You will in a minute.
EVANGELINE. I shouldn't be too sure, if he's deceived us once, he'll
probably try to do it again. I don't feel that I can trust him at all
now.
JOYCE. Look here, when he comes down, what are we to say to
him--Oliver'd better do it all, he's the eldest.
OLIVER (_comes down to table_). I'm hanged if I will.
SYLVIA. All right, dear, don't get crusty before the time; I expect
you'll have full opportunities for that later. I'll be spokesman.
EVANGELINE. All right.
(_Re-enter_ DANIEL, _followed by_ BOBBIE, _wiping his hands on a towel._
BOBBIE _goes_ R.)
DANIEL (C.). I feel a little like Lady Macbeth, but Bobbie wouldn't let
me dry properly. What on earth's the matter?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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