by C. S. Lewis
QUICKSTEPPE: (walks to the window and stares out of it) Where’s Big?
HAWKI: Dunno.
QUICKSTEPPE: (turning round) I suppose you heard about his little affair last night?
BENJAMIN: (without interest) No: we didn’t.
QUICKSTEPPE: The good Gladys is going to occasion some trouble, I fear.
HAWKI: (becoming interested) How’s that? I thought Bar was the only irritant in that house.
BENJAMIN: (resuming paper) Oh, its only one of the general’s yarns.
QUICKSTEPPE: (coming to the fire and ensconcing himself on the hearthrug with his back to the blaze) You’re wrong there, Sir. If you only knew – (chuckles)
HAWKI: Well cough it up, anyhow, and lets drive ahead.
QUICKSTEPPE: (laying down the law with his legs wide apart, and a gesticulating hand) As a matter of fact, your majesties, the thing is quite new to myself, – since last night, that’s to say. I got it out of Gladys last night when all the others had gone. And by Jove, isn’t she nice? She –
BENJAMIN: Go on with the story.
QUICKSTEPPE: I beg your pardon. Well, to begin at the beginning, dear old Big saw a photo at Bar’s of the famous Mrs Green, of whom you must have heard. Now I need hardly tell you that Big’s early life wasn’t quite all that could be desired –
HAWKI: Anyone who reads the opposition papers knows that. But fire ahead.
QUICKSTEPPE: – and, as it happened, we were both great friends of Mrs Green’s, at one time, and a lot of stories were current. About their truth, I’m not going to say anything, but Gladys told me last night that Big – can you guess?
BENJAMIN: (sitting up) You don’t mean to say …
QUICKSTEPPE: (nods) St: Here he comes.
(A ponderous footstep is heard, and a moment later Lord John enters. He is in his dressing gown, and looks gloomy. He eyes the others sullenly and sits down without a word)
QUICKSTEPPE: Morning, Big!
HAWKI: (cheerily) Good morning.
BENJAMIN: (dutifully) Good morning, Big.
BIG: Good morning. (the three syllables boom forth with dreary emphasis, in three different pauses)
HAWKI: (with an effort at hilarity) Did you sleep alright?
BIG: No, I did not sleep alright.
BENJAMIN: H’m.
BIG: (turning with sudden fury on the last speaker) Benjamin, I wish you’d get out of that habit of grunting in conversation. (BENJAMIN retires feebly behind his paper. BIG goes & looks out of the window. A long pause.)
QUICKSTEPPE: I’m sorry you had a poor night old man. Weren’t you comfortable?
BIG: Its this worry that’s killing me.
HAWKI: (feeling that something must be said, and seeing that BENJAMIN shews no signs of speech) Why, what’s the worry now?
BIG: It doesn’t matter.
QUICKSTEPPE: You made rather a faux-pas last night, Big.
BIG: (indignantly) I did nothing of the kind, master Quicksteppe!
QUICKSTEPPE: What about addressing the lady of the house as Mrs Bar?
BIG: (turning in amezement) How else would I have addressed her?
BENJAMIN: (kicks QUICKSTEPPE savagely to try and make him drop the subject)
QUICKSTEPPE: (as if discovering a great elemental law) Why not call the lady by her name?
BIG: What do you mean?
QUICKSTEPPE: The lady’s name is Miss Green.
BIG: It was before she married Bar.
QUICKSTEPPE: (slowly) But – she – didn’t.
BIG: (stands for a moment thunderstruck, then begins pacing about the room and stuttering with anger) – I – I – you mean to tell me – that your Little-Master – the thing’s ridiculous!!
QUICKSTEPPE: (in an audible aside to their Majesties) The result of that remark has surpassed even my rosiest hopes.
BIG: I’m not going to tolerate it. Am I to be dragged under the roof of every brazen hussy from the purlieus of Murry? Did it never occur to you [to] tell me this before we went?
QUICKSTEPPE: You weren’t always so particular about the company you kept.
BIG: (Recoils at once. Then stiffly) M’Lord, their majesties are tired of your presence. (in a tone of command) Aren’t you, boys?
HAWKI: (as in duty bound) Yes, Big.
BENJAMIN: (still behind the paper) Yes, Big.
BIG: (loftily) Then, General, I must ask you to leave the presence.
QUICKSTEPPE: (unruffled) Righto! (to their Majesties) See you keep him out of mischief while I’m away.
(Crosses to the door. As he is going, a MAID enters with a card on a salver.)
BIG: (reading) ‘Miss Gladys Green.’ What in the name of – I won’t see the creature!
QUICKSTEPPE: (at the door) I think you’d better, Big. You’re not a very loving father!
(Exit. BIG collapses into a chair. To the MAID:)
BIG: Shew the lady up!
MAID: Yes, M’Lord (exit)
BIG: Boys, you’d better go and sit elsewhere till this woman’s gone.
HAWKI: Very well, Big.
(The two KINGS get up obediently, and go out. Enter MAID announcing GLADYS. Exit MAID.)
BIG: (with smouldering fury concealed behind a thin veil of politeness) Good morning, Mrs Bar. This is indeed an unexpected pleasure.
(GLADYS, dressed in a faultless morning costume, advances jeuntily to the centre of the room and shakes hands with him.)
GLADYS: I am sure, M’Lord, the pleasure will be chiefly on my part.
BIG: (aside) Yes, I’m sure it will. (to her) On the contrary, my dear lady. (offering a chair) Can I give you a glass of port, Mrs Bar?
GLAYS: (cooly) No thank you, but I will have a cigarette, if you please.
(Helps herself from a box on the mantleshelf. Then sits down. BIG looks on in horror.)
BIG: Certainly, Mrs Bar.
GLADYS: (sweetly) I wish you wouldn’t call me Mrs Bar. My name is Miss Green.
BIG: (too outraged to protest) I beg your pardon.
GLADYS: (after a pause during which she watches the rising tobacco-smoke in silence) You are wondering, no doubt, why I have called to bother you at eleven oclock in the morning. (BIG makes a deprecating gesture) But the fact is that I have lately, in going through my papers, found something which I am sure will be of interest to you. As it concerned you rather intimately, I thought I’d come and tell you at once. (smiles thoughtfully)
BIG: I am sure that’s very good of you, Miss Green.
GLADYS: Pray don’t mention it. Among my mother’s effects there is a large collection of photographs of her friends. (BIG begins to pace the room in great consternation) Is anything wrong, Lord Big? (with grave concern)
BIG: No, thank you. Go on. I’m listening.
GLADYS: Just fancy my surprise, M’Lord, on finding a likeness of yourself among them. And signed too! It had ‘your adoring John’ written under it. But here, see for yourself. (Taking a photograph from her bag, she holds it up for him to see. He stares at it in horror and falls into a chair. He wipes his forehead with a handkerchief.)
GLADYS: Of course, I don’t see any special interest in the thing. Its a very ordinary record of a very ordinary friendship, I daresay. But (innocently) the funny thing is that the editor of the ‘Lounger’ offered me £5,000 for it. I was wondering –
BIG: (starting up with fearful vehemence) Woman! Would you blackmail your Little-Master?
GLADYS: (surprised) Oh, My Lord!! What do you mean? I only wanted to ask you how it got that value. Of course your lordship’s autograph is hardly worth all that. But if you’re going to be violent I shall have to go. You’ve really quite upset me.
BIG: I beg your pardon, Miss Green. There was some mistake.
GLADYS: Hullo! There’s twelve o’clock. I am afraid I must go. (rising) I hope I haven’t bored you, Sir, with my long story. Good-bye, and many thanks for a pleasant little chat. (BIG opens the door for her. She goes out.)
BIG: (coming back into the room, muttering feebly like o
ne who has just come through a thunderstorm) Five thousand pounds – five thousand! I shall be ruined! Its not fair!
CURTAIN
ACT III
– – – – – – – – – –
Lord Big’s cabinet in Riverside. It is a smaller room than that shewn in the last act and is panelled in old oak. Portraits of former little-masters are let into the walls at intervals. There are three of these in the wall opposite us, in which is a fireplace. One easy chair with an adaptable reading-table stands on the right. The right-hand wall is filled by the windows below which is a big office table and a chair. In the left, to the front is a door. The rest of that wall is hidden by a bookcase. In the foreground is a small circular table, to hold papers, pipes etc. To the left of the fireplace is a safe.
QUICKSTEPPE and BIG enter from the left. BIG is wearing his frock coat and grey trousers, while QUICKSTEPPE affects the more modern morning coat. He shuts the door after him. Two or three days after Act II.
BIG: (handing the other one of the penitential chairs used for visitors) Come and sit down Quicksteppe.
QUICKSTEPPE: Thanks. (seats himself in the easy chair) Now we can talk.
BIG: (goes to the safe) Will you have a glass of Zauber? And one of the Gleonarphies? (he brings out wine & cigars)
QUICKSTEPPE: If you please. (helps himself) Now, what is it you want to say.
BIG: (sitting down in the office chair) Its this, Quicksteppe, that I’m being ruined.
QUICKSTEPPE: You mean by the Bars?
BIG: Yes, I do mean by the Bars. There’s a bill for 100 came in yesterday, and a box at the Coleopterce I had to get them the day before, and a bill for 50 the day before that. (fretfully) You know, I can’t hold out to it. I shall have to resign. (fatalistically)
QUICKSTEPPE: I shouldn’t pay them if I were you.
BIG: (with warmth) What’s the good of talking like that, when you know that I’ve got no other course open to me? I can’t have this business getting into the papers!
QUICKSTEPPE: I should think not. But, I say Big, is it a true yarn?
BIG: (impatiently) I refuse to discuss the question.
QUICKSTEPPE: (with a chuckle) Quite right Big. I’d refuse to discuss it with the Bars, too.
BIG: If only I knew any way – – (a long pause) Then it’s very hard to stand this creature’s insolence, when I see him walking about D. Street, dressed out of my money, feeding on my money, entertaining on my money! Why I’ve had to pay for that dance the other night, and for the cigars he so kindly offered us.
QUICKSTEPPE: (laughs) But really, Big, there is a humourous side to it.
BIG: (coldly) Really, General, your risible faculty is inordinately developed.
QUICKSTEPPE: Here, Here!
BIG: Then again, the fact that he’s not married to that woman is a constant worry to me. To think that the Little-Master of Boxen is supporting a pair of –
QUICKSTEPPE: (inturrupting) But that’s just your mistake! Its thinking too much that has made you an old man.
BIG: Be that as it may, master Quicksteppe, I’m not going to make another payment until that pair are married. I’m sure they won’t want to put an end to the business by publishing their facts –
QUICKSTEPPE: – to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs?
BIG: (angrily) Really, my good man, your knack of choosing unhappy metaphors is uncanny.
(QUICKSTEPPE is about to reply when the MAID enters, announcing MR BAR. He is dressed in a well-cut blue serge suit with soft silk collar and bow tie. He is jaunty and truculent. Exit MAID.)
BAR: (with a familiar nod of the head) How are you Big? Hullo, General!
BIG: (without getting up) Sit down.
BAR: Thats alright. And did you offer me a cigar? (takes and lights one)
BIG: No, I did not offer you a cigar.
BAR: (sitting down on the table) Well its done now! I’ve come to borrow some oof.
QUICKSTEPPE: (who is enjoying the scene from the depths of his chair) That’s right, my young friend, never lose any time in getting to business.
BIG: (irritably) Quicksteppe, your presence is hardly required at this interview.
BAR: (patting BIG on the shoulder) There, there, there!
BIG: (springing up like an india-rubber ball) If you do that again, Sir, I’ll throw you out of the window!!!
BAR: (smiles cheerily) ’Pardon, ’pardon! Well, about this money?
BIG: Its no use your proceeding, Sir. I’ve already decided not to pay you again until you fall in with one of my conditions. You may publish what you please.
BAR: (with mild surprise) Ho-Ho!! And what’s the trouble now?
BIG: I insist upon your marrying this innocent girl whom you have seduced.
QUICKSTEPPE: What a magnificent picture of paternal indignation!
BIG: (turning on him) I tell you, Master Quicksteppe, I am not this woman’s father, and the sooner you learn that, the better we’ll get on together. Do you hear what I’m saying to you?
QUICKSTEPPE: (with composure) I do.
BIG: Well take it to heart then. (turning to the table) And now, Mr Bar, what have you to say?
BAR: (Gets up slowly and walks to the fire. He then sticks his hands in his waistcoat holes, and throws out his chest.) I am to understand, my good Lord Big, that you object to the present state of affairs between myself and your daughter?
BIG: And Miss Green, Sir, to whom I am not related. Yes, I do object, my young friend.
BAR: It is sad to see such old-world superstition prevailing in the nineteenth century! How long will the public disregard the glorious principle of free love and cling to the disgustingly obsolete custom of marriage. Having heard Schopensplofher on the matter –
BIG: (with surpressed anger) I have not heard that fellow.
BAR: (holding up his hands in mock horror) Just think of the depravity of an age which opens the highest office of the state to an illiterate old –
BIG: (angrily) Would you insult your Little-Master?
QUICKSTEPPE: Hush! Sh! Let’s hear the little man’s lecture.
BAR: Thank you, Sir. As I was saying, marriage is an obsolete custom, which can be regarded only as a relic of the dark ages. It should have been abolished when its fellow evils were swept away. It belongs to the realm of magic, the burning of witches, religious intolerence, torture, despotic power, the office of Little-Master, and a thousand other –
BIG: (who has risen menacingly and taken a walking stick from the corner, now interrupts) Yes, master Bar! The office of Little-Master is a relic, is it? We’ll see about that. (advancing suddenly he grips BAR by the collar) Come here Sir!
BAR: (Realizing his position too late. Struggling.) Let me go! Let me go, I say! I won’t put up with it! Do you hear? I’ll tell every paper in Murry – Ouh!
(BIG, having raised him at arm’s length, has given him a cut. He proceeds to thrash him, carefully and methodically.)
BIG: (between the strokes) I’ll – teach – you – to – insult – your – Little – Master!!
BAR: Ou! Stop it, I say! I insist! Quicksteppe, help!
QUICKSTEPPE: (overcome with laughter) It was all in the game, Bar. You took your risk.
BIG: (stopping) Quicksteppe, open the window.
QUICKSTEPPE: Righto!
(He obeys. BAR, seeing what is coming begins to struggle more violently.)
BIG: Keep quiet, Sir!
(He carries him to window, and throws him out. A loud splash is heard in the river.)
(shutting the window) There, papers or no papers, I’ve put a stop to that insolent talk. The thing was becoming intolerable. (sits down, wiping the perspiration from his brow)
QUICKSTEPPE: (weak with laughter) Thank you, Big, thank you. It was as good as a play! You must do it again! Ha-Ha-Ha: (bursts into a guffaw again)
BIG: Well, its a very serious business to me. I suppose that photograph will be in the ‘Lounger’ to morrow. I shall have to leave the country.
QUI
CKSTEPPE: (recovering) By Gad, John, we’re in the devil of a poke, certainly! We must set our wits to work.
BIG: (fatalistically) Oh, I may as well make up my mind to it. I’d better go and pack my trunk.
QUICKSTEPPE: Nonsense! There’s a way out of every situation, if you can only find it.
BIG: (doggedly) Well, there’s one thing certain. As sure as my name’s John Big, not another penny will he get until the day of his wedding.
QUICKSTEPPE: Well if you are bent on that you must make it more worth his while to get married than to publish the facts.
BIG: (angrily) Damn it all, man, do you think I’m made of money?
QUICKSTEPPE: (quietly) No. But I think perhaps it will cost you less to adopt my plan than to go on as you have been doing.
BIG: Yes: and I should hope so!
QUICKSTEPPE: I assure you it would.
BIG: (sulkily) Well, what is this plan of yours?
QUICKSTEPPE: I was thinking that you could put an end to the nuisance by offering Bar a permanent annuity on his marrying Gladys Green, and improving his manners –
BIG: That would certainly be a step in the right direction –
QUICKSTEPPE: This would satisfy your conscience, supress the photograph, and lower the expense.
BIG: (thoughtfully) But, why should I have to support this fellow and his wife, just so that he can produce legitimately a lot of ugly little replicas of himself?
QUICKSTEPPE: (with a dry laugh) Because you’ve got no alternative, my dear fellow.
BIG: (begins to prowl about) Well I declare, its not right. Here, I work hard all day to keep the country safe, and do my little bit of social work in the evenings, week in week out. And with what return? To be plagued by an –
QUICKSTEPPE: (who has heard that sort of talk before) Come, come, Big, its no use making everyone else miserable by your complaints. Its one of my theories that you’ve no right to spread your troubles. £200 a year’ll do for him, and we’ll manage to live on the residue.
BIG: (dolefully) I suppose it must be done.
(QUICKSTEPPE goes out. BIG sits down and stares gloomily at the fire.)
CURTAIN