Three Plays by Granville-Barker: The Marrying of Ann Leete; The Voysey Inheritance; Waste — John Shaqi
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
MR. VOYSEY. [_hardening._] Trenchard! [_he dismisses that._] Well,
you're a better man than Booth. Edward, you mustn't imagine that the
whole world is standing on its head merely because you've had an
unpleasant piece of news. You come down to Chislehurst to-night . .
well, say to-morrow night. It'll be good for you . . stop your brooding
. . that's your worst vice, Edward. You'll find the household as if
nothing had happened. Then you'll remember that nothing really has
happened. And presently you'll get to see that nothing need happen, if
you keep your head. I remember times, when things have seemed at their
worst, what a relief it's been to me . . my romp with you all in the
nursery just before your bed time. Do you remember?
EDWARD. Yes. I cut your head open once with that gun.
MR. VOYSEY. [_in a full glow of fine feeling._] And, my dear boy, if I
knew that you were going to inform the next client you met of what I've
just told you . .
EDWARD. [_with a shudder._] Oh, father!
MR. VOYSEY. . . And that I should find myself in prison to-morrow, I
wouldn't wish a single thing I've ever done undone. I have never
wilfully harmed man or woman. My life's been a happy one. Your dear
mother has been spared to me. You're most of you good children and a
credit to what I've done for you.
EDWARD. [_the deadly humour of this too much for him._] Father!
MR. VOYSEY. Run along now, run along. I must finish my letters and get
into the City.
_He might be scolding a schoolboy for some trifling fault._ EDWARD
_turns to have a look at the keen unembarrassed face_. MR. VOYSEY
_smiles at him and proceeds to select from the bowl a rose for his
buttonhole_.
EDWARD. I'll think it over, sir.
MR. VOYSEY. Of course, you will. And don't brood, Edward, don't brood.
_So_ EDWARD _leaves him; and having fixed the rose to his satisfaction,
he rings his table telephone and calls through it to the listening
clerk_.
Send Atkinson to me, please. [_Then he gets up, keys in hand to lock
away Mrs. Murberry's and the Hatherley trust papers._]
THE SECOND ACT
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account