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
HORSHAM, _rid of the letter, is rid of responsibility and his charming
equable self again. He comforts his cousin paternally._
HORSHAM. I don't think so. The split would have come when Blackborough
checkmated my forming a cabinet. It would have pleased him to do that ...
and he could have, over Trebell. But now that question's out of the way ...
you won't get such a bad measure with Trebell in opposition. He'll frighten
us into keeping it up to the mark, so to speak.
CANTELUPE. [_A little comforted._] But I shall miss one or two of those
ideas ...
HORSHAM. [_So pleasantly sceptical._] Do you think they'd have outlasted the
second reading? Dullness in the country one expects. Dullness in the House
one can cope with. But do you know, I have never sat in a cabinet yet that
didn't greet anything like a new idea in chilling silence.
CANTELUPE. Well, I should regret to have caused you trouble, Cyril.
HORSHAM. [_His hand on the other's shoulder._] Oh ... we don't take politics
so much to heart as that, I hope.
CANTELUPE. [_With sweet gravity._] I take politics very much to heart. Yes,
I know what you mean ... but that's the sort of remark that makes people
call you cynical. [HORSHAM _smiles as if at a compliment and starts with_
CANTELUPE _towards the door._ CANTELUPE, _who would not hurt his feelings,
changes the subject._] By the bye, I'm glad we met this evening! Do you hear
Aunt Mary wants to sell the Burford Holbein? Can she?
HORSHAM. [_Taking as keen, but no keener, an interest in this than in the
difficulty he has just surmounted._] Yes, by the will she can, but she
mustn't. Dear me, I thought I'd put a stop to that foolishness. Well now, we
must take that matter up very seriously ...
_They go out talking arm in arm._
THE FOURTH ACT
At TREBELL'S again; later, the same evening.
_His room is in darkness but for the flicker the fire makes and the streaks
of moonlight between the curtains. The door is open, though, and you see the
light of the lamp on the stairs. You hear his footstep too. On his way he
stops to draw back the the curtains of the passage-way window; the moonlight
makes his face look very pale. Then he serves the curtains of his own window
the same; flings it open, moreover, and stands looking out. Something below
draws his attention. After leaning over the balcony with a short_ "Hullo"
_he goes quickly downstairs again. In a minute_ WEDGECROFT _comes up._
TREBELL _follows, pausing by the door a moment to light up the room._
WEDGECROFT _is radiant._
TREBELL. [_With a twist of his mouth._] Promised, has he?
WEDGECROFT. Suddenly broke out as we walked along, that he liked the look of
you and that men must stand by one another nowadays against these women.
Then he said good-night and walked away.
TREBELL. Back to Ireland and the thirteenth century.
WEDGECROFT. After to-morrow.
TREBELL. [_Taking all the meaning of to-morrow._] Yes. Are you in for
perjury, too?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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