The Cabinet Minister: A farce in four actsPinero, Arthur Wing
General
The Cabinet Minister: A farce in four acts
Pinero, Arthur Wing
Comedy plays; English drama -- 19th century
Figurez-vous, milord, qu'il a dormi pendant tout le trajet! et puis
quand je suis descendue de voiture, il s'est reveille en pleurant ... ah
mais, en pleurant!
DOWAGER.
Give me Lord Aberbrothock. [She takes the child from Angele.] Wait in
the next room, Angele.
ANGELE.
Yes, miladi. J'espere bien que Monsieur le Vicomte ne va plus crier, car
ca pourrait faire de la peine a sa grand'maman. [ANGELE goes out.]
DOWAGER.
Now, Julian, this is the point. You see Fergus. Politics or the Army?
EGIDIA.
Politics.
EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.
The Army.
DOWAGER.
Pray speak, Julian.
SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
Er--um--perhaps it would be rather precipitate----
EGIDIA.
I differ entirely. The child's intelligence must be directed into a
particular channel from the beginning.
EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.
In that I heartily concur. For instance, the question of toys is already
most urgent.
EGIDIA.
He is without playthings at present, so his mind is quite open.
DOWAGER.
You appear to have no views, Julian.
EGIDIA.
Lady Drumdurris, let Sir Julian look at the height and character of
Fergus's brow.
EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.
Pray do. It's a soldier's forehead.
DOWAGER.
Julian. [She hands the infant to SIR JULIAN.]
SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
Thank you. Politics or the Army? [Addressing the child in his arms.] My
dear Fergus, take my advice, not, _not_ politics.
EGIDIA.
Ah!
SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
If you attach any trifling importance to veracity as a habit, _not_
politics. If you would care at any time upon any subject to form your
own opinions, and having formed them, would wish to maintain them, _not_
politics. If you desire to be of the smallest service to your fellow
man, and if you would sleep as peacefully at sixty as you now sleep at
six months, _not_ politics.
EGIDIA.
Sir Julian!
EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.
The Army!
EGIDIA.
Never!
DOWAGER.
This is most distressing. [Calling at the open door.] Angele! Angele!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
[Heard outside.] Why, Dora!
SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
Katherine.
[LADY TWOMBLEY enters with IMOGEN and LADY EUPHEMIA in walking
costumes.]
LADY TWOMBLEY.
How good of you to come early! [Kissing EGIDIA.] Egidia, dearest! [To
DRUMDURRIS.] Good-morning, Keith. Ah! you've brought Fergus to see me!
The angel!
[With cries of delight LADY TWOMBLEY, IMOGEN, and LADY EUPHEMIA gather
round SIR JULIAN and the baby.]
LADY TWOMBLEY.
The pet!
IMOGEN.
The mite!
LADY EUPHEMIA VIBART.
He is _too_ sweet!
THE THREE.
Oh--h--h!
[BROOKE enters.]
BROOKE TWOMBLEY.
[Shaking hands with DRUMDURRIS.] Hallo, what's the matter?
EARL OF DRUMDURRIS.
[With dignity.] They are looking at my son.
[ANGELE has entered. She takes the infant from SIR JULIAN.]
LADY TWOMBLEY.
We've enjoyed a splendid hour in Bond Street--in and out of twenty
shops, eh, girls?
LADY EUPHEMIA VIBART.
Yes, Aunt Kate.
IMOGEN.
Yes, mamma.
LADY TWOMBLEY.
Bought all we could think of and ordered the rest.
SIR JULIAN TWOMBLEY.
My dear!
LADY TWOMBLEY.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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