Three Plays by Granville-Barker: The Marrying of Ann Leete; The Voysey Inheritance; WasteGranville-Barker, Harley
General
Three Plays by Granville-Barker: The Marrying of Ann Leete; The Voysey Inheritance; Waste
Granville-Barker, Harley
English drama
LORD ARTHUR. . . he'd better ride the beast.
SARAH _comes out of the dining-room. He stands up; one boot, one shoe._
SARAH. Please put on the other.
LORD ARTHUR. Thank you . . I am in haste.
SARAH. To depart before the bride's departure.
LORD ARTHUR. Does the bride go with the bridegroom?
SARAH. She goes away.
LORD ARTHUR. I shall never see such a thing again.
SARAH. I think this entertainment is unique.
LORD ARTHUR. Any commissions in town?
SARAH. Why can't you stay to travel with us tomorrow and talk business
to Papa by the way?
DIMMUCK _carrying the pumps and after putting on his cloak goes out
through the front door. When it is closed, her voice changes._
SARAH. Why . . Arthur?
_He does not answer. Then_ MRS. OPIE _comes out of the dining-room to
fetch the cloak. The two, with an effort, reconstruct their casual
disjointed conversation._
SARAH. . . Before the bride's departure?
LORD ARTHUR. Does the bride go away with the bridegroom?
SARAH. She goes.
LORD ARTHUR. I shall never see such an entertainment again.
SARAH. We are quite unique.
LORD ARTHUR. Any commissions in town?
SARAH. Is she to go soon too, Mrs. Opie?
MRS. OPIE. It is arranged they are to walk . . in this weather . . ten
miles . . to the house.
SARAH. Cottage.
MRS. OPIE. Hut.
MRS. OPIE _takes the cloak into the dining-room. Then_ SARAH _comes a
little towards_ LORD ARTHUR, _but waits for him to speak_.
LORD ARTHUR. [_A little awkwardly._] You are not looking well.
SARAH. To our memory . . and beyond your little chat with my husband
about me . . I want to speak an epitaph.
LORD ARTHUR. Charlie Cottesham behaved most honourably.
SARAH. And I think you did. Why have you not let me tell you so in your
ear till now, to-day?
LORD ARTHUR. Sarah . . we had a narrow escape from. . .
SARAH. How's your wife?
LORD ARTHUR. Well . . thank you.
SARAH. Nervous, surely, at your travelling in winter?
LORD ARTHUR. I was so glad to receive a casual invitation from you and
to come . . casually.
SARAH. Fifty miles.
LORD ARTHUR. Your father has been ill?
SARAH. Very ill through the autumn.
LORD ARTHUR. Do you think he suspects us?
SARAH. I shouldn't care to peep into Papa's innermost mind. You are to
be very useful to him.
LORD ARTHUR. No.
SARAH. Then he'll go back to the government.
LORD ARTHUR. If he pleases . . if they please . . if you please.
SARAH. I am not going back to my husband. Arthur . . be useful to him.
LORD ARTHUR. No . . you are not coming to me. Always your father!
[_After a moment._] It was my little home in the country somehow said
aloud you didn't care for me.
SARAH. I fooled you to small purpose.
LORD ARTHUR. I wish you had once made friends with my wife.
SARAH. If we . . this house I'm speaking of . . had made friends where
we've only made tools and fools we shouldn't now be cursed as we are . .
all. George, who is a cork, trying to sink socially. Ann is mad . . and
a runaway.
LORD ARTHUR. Sarah, I've been devilish fond of you.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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