Waste: A Tragedy, In Four ActsGranville-Barker, Harley
General
Waste: A Tragedy, In Four Acts
Granville-Barker, Harley
Adultery -- Drama; Politicians -- Drama; Women's rights -- Drama
TREBELL _looks up and for a moment stares at his secretary rather
sharply, then speaks in a matter-of-fact voice._
TREBELL. See him yourself, downstairs. Talk to him for five minutes ... find
out what he wants. Tell him it will be as well for the next week or two if
he can say he hasn't seen me.
KENT. Yes.
_He goes._ TREBELL _follows him to the door which he shuts. Then he
turns to face_ AMY, _who is tearing up the paper she wrote on._
TREBELL. What is it?
AMY. [_Her steady voice breaking, her carefully calculated control giving
way._] Oh Henry ... Henry!
TREBELL. Are you in trouble?
AMY. You'll hate me, but ... oh, it's brutal of you to have been away so
long.
TREBELL. Is it with your husband?
AMY. Perhaps. Oh, come nearer to me ... do.
TREBELL. [_Coming nearer without haste or excitement._] Well? [_Her eyes are
closed._] My dear girl, I'm too busy for love-making now. If there are any
facts to be faced, let me have them ... quite quickly.
_She looks up at him for a moment; then speaks swiftly and sharply as
one speaks of disaster._
AMY. There's a danger of my having a child ... your child ... some time in
April. That's all.
TREBELL. [_A sceptic who has seen a vision._] Oh ... it's impossible.
AMY. [_Flashing at him, revengefully._] Why?
TREBELL. [_Brought to his mundane self_] Well ... are you sure?
AMY. [_In sudden agony._] D'you think I want it to be true? D'you think I--?
You don't know what it is to have a thing happening in spite of you.
TREBELL. [_His face set in thought._] Where have you been since we met?
AMY. Not to Ireland ... I haven't seen Justin for a year.
TREBELL. All the easier for you not to see him for another year.
AMY. That wasn't what you meant.
TREBELL. It wasn't ... but never mind.
_They are silent for a moment ... miles apart ... Then she speaks
dully._
AMY. We do hate each other ... don't we!
TREBELL. Nonsense. Let's think of what matters.
AMY. [_Aimlessly._] I went to a man at Dover ... picked him out of the
directory ... didn't give my own name ... pretended I was off abroad. He was
a kind old thing ... said it was all most satisfactory. Oh, my God!
TREBELL. [_He goes to bend over her kindly._] Yes, you've had a torturing
month or two. That's been wrong, I'm sorry.
AMY. Even now I have to keep telling myself that it's so ... otherwise I
couldn't understand it. Any more than one really believes one will ever die
... one doesn't believe that, you know.
TREBELL. [_On the edge of a sensation that is new to him._] I am told that a
man begins to feel unimportant from this moment forward. Perhaps it's true.
AMY. What has it to do with you anyhow? We don't belong to each other. How
long were we together that night? Half an hour! You didn't seem to care a
bit until after you'd kissed me and ... this is an absurd consequence.
TREBELL. Nature's a tyrant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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