The Big Drum: A Comedy in Four ActsPinero, Arthur Wing
General
The Big Drum: A Comedy in Four Acts
Pinero, Arthur Wing
Comedy plays; English drama
OTTOLINE.
[_To_ BERTRAM.] All your life you've been paltry, odious, detestable----
BERTRAM.
Look heah----!
OTTOLINE.
But _this_! My God! For you--for any of us--to impugn the honesty of a
man whose shadow we're not fit to walk in----!
SIR RANDLE.
[_To_ LADY FILSON_--pained._] Winifred----!
OTTOLINE.
[_To_ BERTRAM.] You--you--you're no better than your common, hired
spy----!
LADY FILSON.
[_Rising and going to_ OTTOLINE.] My child, remember----!
OTTOLINE.
[_Clenching her hands and hissing her words at_ BERTRAM.] _C'est la
verite! Tu n'es qu'une canaille--une vile canaille----!_
LADY FILSON.
Control yourself, I _beg_!
OTTOLINE.
[_To_ LADY FILSON.] Leave me alone----!
[_She passes_ LADY FILSON _and sits on the settee on the
right with glittering eyes and heaving bosom._ PHILIP
_has withdrawn to the fireplace and is standing looking
into the fire._
LADY FILSON.
[_To_ BERTRAM.] Bertie dear, I'm surprised at you! To do a thing like
this behind our backs!
BERTRAM.
My dear mother, I knew that you and father wouldn't do it----
LADY FILSON.
I should think not, indeed!
SIR RANDLE.
[_To_ BERTRAM.] Your mother and I!
LADY FILSON.
[_Horrified at the notion._] Oh!
BERTRAM.
Upon my word, this is rather rough! [_Walking away._] I mean to
_say_----!
PHILIP.
[_Turning._] We mustn't be too hard on poor Bertram, Lady Filson----
BERTRAM.
[_Pacing the room near the big doors._] Poor Bertram! Ho!
SIR RANDLE.
[_To_ PHILIP.] I trust we are never unduly hard on our children, my
dear Philip----
PHILIP.
To do him justice, he was most anxious to postpone these dreadful
revelations till to-morrow----
BERTRAM.
Exactly! [_Throwing himself into the chair between the big doors and
the vestibule door._] I predicted a scene! I predicted a scene!
PHILIP.
[_To_ SIR RANDLE _and_ LADY FILSON, _penitently._] Perhaps it would
have been wiser of me--more considerate--to have complied with his
wishes. But I was in a fury--naturally----
LADY FILSON.
[_Sitting on the settee on the left._] Naturally.
SIR RANDLE.
And excusably. I myself, in similar circumstances----
PHILIP.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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