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
_Mon pauvre Philippe_, it's you, not I, who will take another view of
things to-morrow. [_He makes a gesture of dissent._] Ah, come, come,
come! You have never loved me as I have loved you. Unconsciously--without
perceiving it--one may be half a _poseuse_; but at least I've been
sincere in my love for you, and in hungering to be your wife. [_Giving
him her right hand._] You're the best I've ever known, dear; by far the
best I've ever known. [_He presses her hand to his brow convulsively._]
But when we had our talk in South Audley Street, how did you serve me?
You insisted on my waiting--waiting; I who had cherished your image in
my mind for years! You guessed I shouldn't have patience--you almost
prophesied as much; but still--I was to wait!
PHILIP.
[_Inarticulately._] Oh, Otto!
OTTOLINE.
[_Withdrawing her hand._] What did that show, Phil? It showed--as your
compromise with mother and Dad showed afterwards--that the success of
the book you were engaged upon came first with you; that marrying me
was to be only an incident in your career; that you didn't love me
sufficiently to bend your pride or vary your programme a jot. [_He gets
to his feet, startled, dumbfoundered. He attempts to speak, but she
checks him._] H'sh! H'sh! I'm scolding you; but, for your sake, I
wouldn't have it otherwise. Now that I'm sane and cool, I wouldn't have
it otherwise.
PHILIP.
[_Struggling for words--thickly._] Ottoline--Ottoline--[_his voice
dying away_] I----!
OTTOLINE.
[_Taking his hands in hers._] Good-bye. Don't come downstairs with me.
Let me leave you sitting at your table, at work--at work on that
incomplete chapter. We shall tumble up against one another, I dare say,
at odd times, but this is the last we shall see of each other _dans
l'intimite_; and I want to print on my memory the sight of you--[_pointing
to the writing-table_] there--keeping your flag flying. [_Putting her
arms round him--in a whisper._] Keep your flag flying, Philip!
Don't--don't sulk with your art, and be false to yourself, because a
trumpery woman has fretted and disturbed you. Keep your flag
flying--[_kissing him_] my--my dear hero!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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