CURTAIN
ACT III
The kitchen at MAGNEER’S farm, SALLY MAGNEER, EMILY CALLADINE, ADA CALLADINE. MR MAGNEER, farmer, not fat, but well looking: grey hair, black moustache; at present rather maudlin. JACK MAGNEER, still in riding breeches and leggings. GRAINGER and BRENTNALL, both in tennis flannels. JACK and EMILY sit together on a large old couch, GRAINGER next to them. SALLY is in a chair, looking as if any moment she would take wing. BRENTNALL is flirting with ADA CALLADINE.
MR MAGNEER: An’ so you really goin’ ter leave us, Dr Grainger.
GRAINGER: That is so, Mr Magneer.
MR MAGNEER: An’ when might you be goin’?
GRAINGER: Saturday.
MR MAGNEER: To-morrow! My word, that’s sharp. Well, I know one as’ll be sorry you goin’.
SALLY: Shut up, Father. (She giggles, and twists her handkerchief to GRAINGER.) We s’ll be seeing you again, though?
GRAINGER: Well, I really can’t say — I’m going to London.
SALLY: London! Whatever are you going there for?
BRENTNALL: Set up a wife and family.
SALLY: What, all at once? — Give us a chance.
BRENTNALL: Not a ghost of a chance, Sally.
ADA CALLADINE laughs uncontrollably.
GRAINGER: Got a joke over there?
ADA (laughing): Yes — yes — yes!
SALLY (jumping up): Just look at your glass! (Takes GRAINGER’S tumbler and proceeds to mix him rum.) Why ever didn’t you speak?
MR MAGNEER: Yes, you must shout up when you’re emp’y.
SALLY (to GRAINGER): Like it sweet?
GRAINGER (ironically): Not too much.
SALLY (taking the glass and standing in front of him): How’s this for you?
GRAINGER (sipping): Quite alright, thank you, Sally.
MR MAGNEER (laughing): “Quite alright,” hark ye! It’s “quite alright.” (He gives a great wink at BRENTNALL. SALLY begins to giggle.)
GRAINGER (lugubriously): Sally’s got ‘em again.
JACK: Sit you down, Sally, an’ don’t look so long o’ th’ leg.
SALLY giggles half hysterically, and sinks beside GRAINGER, who edges away. She leans towards him — laughs uncontrollably.
MR MAGNEER: Now we’re comin’ on. What yer doin’ at ‘er, Doctor?
GRAINGER: Begad, I’m doing nothing, Mr Magneer. I dunno what’s got her.
MR MAGNEER (laughs): He dunno, doesn’t know what’s got her. (To BRENTNALL.) We don’t, do we?
BRENTNALL: Not a bit.
GRAINGER: I’ll have a drop more water. (Rises and goes to table.)
MR MAGNEER: Come Sally, my lass, come.
SALLY dries her eyes, still giggles, rises. GRAINGER hastily takes an odd chair at the table. She stands beside him.
JACK: Are ter goin’ ter sit thysen down, Sally?
SALLY: Am I hurtin’ you by standin’?
JACK: Yis, you are.
BRENTNALL: Fill me up, Sally, there’s a dear. (SALLY takes his glass.)
MR MAGNEER: Sally Magneer, there’s a dear.
GRAINGER: Isn’t Charlie coming?
SALLY: No, did you want him?
GRAINGER: No — but I thought you did.
SALLY (beginning to giggle): Did you? You happen thought wrong.
BRENTNALL: Poor Charlie.
SALLY: What do you know about him?
BRENTNALL: Now Sally! It’s best to be on with the new love before you’re off with the old.
SALLY (giggling): I don’t know what you mean.
JACK: Art thou going to sit down?
SALLY: Yes. (Retires discomfited to the couch.)
BRENTNALL (rising): I’ll get a light.
GRAINGER: Matches?
BRENTNALL (going to fire): Never mind. (Lights his cigarette with a spill.)
ADA (laughing): Good-bye, Billy.
BRENTNALL (blowing her kisses): Farewell, farewell. (Sinks on the couch beside SALLY.)
SALLY: What have you come for?
BRENTNALL: Won’t you have me, Sally?
SALLY: I don’t know.
GRAINGER (shuffling the cards): A hand of crib, Mr Magneer?
MR MAGNEER: I don’t mind if I do. Fill up.
BRENTNALL (taking SALLY’S hand): Hurt your finger?
SALLY: My thumb.
BRENTNALL: Shame! What did you do?
SALLY: Chopped it.
BRENTNALL: How rotten. Is it getting better?
MR MAGNEER: There’s a bit o’ proud flesh in it.
GRAINGER: Your crib, Mr Magneer.
SALLY (unwinding the bandage): Yes, it’s going on alright now.
BRENTNALL (examining it closely): Yes, that’s healing right enough, but a nasty gash! What did Charlie say to it?
SALLY: Charlie!
BRENTNALL: Yes, Charlie. He’s your fellow, isn’t he?
SALLY: I don’t know so much about that.
BRENTNALL: I heard you were as good as engaged.
SALLY: Oh, did you — who’s been telling you?
BRENTNALL: Mrs Plum.
SALLY: She knows so much, you see.
BRENTNALL: Let me wrap it up for you. (Bandages her thumb.) But isn’t it right?
SALLY: Not as I know of.
BRENTNALL: Oh, I’m sorry.
SALLY: Who are you sorry for?
BRENTNALL: Charlie, of course, poor devil.
SALLY: You needn’t be sorry for him. Take your sorrow where your love lies.
BRENTNALL: Then I s’ll have to be sorry for you, Sally.
SALLY: I don’t think.
BRENTNALL (putting his arm round her waist): I’m sorry you’ve got a bad finger, Sally.
SALLY (beginning to giggle): Are you?
BRENTNALL: You don’t mind that I’m not Dr Grainger, do you, Sally?
SALLY: What do you mean?
BRENTNALL: You’d as leave have me as Dr Grainger?
SALLY: Yes, if you like.
BRENTNALL (kissing her): That’s right. (She giggles.)
MR MAGNEER: Whey! Whey — up! Sally, thou scawdrag!
SALLY (giggling hysterically): What am I a scawdrag for?
MR MAGNEER: Hark ye, hark ye! Jack, art takin’ notice over there?
JACK: Billy’s alright, Dad.
MR MAGNEER: Billy? By gosh! Billy!
GRAINGER: Turn, Mr Magneer.
ADA (pegging): Two for his knobs.
BRENTNALL: You’d as leave have me as Dr Grainger? (Kisses her under the ear.)
SALLY (with suppressed shrieks): Oh, oh, don’t tickle!
GRAINGER (turning around — with contempt): She’ll never stop, Billy, she’s got gigglemania.
MR MAGNEER: Giggolo — what? That’s a good ‘un!
BRENTNALL: Yes, she will stop — take me seriously, Sally, do!
(Squeezes her — SALLY giggles wildly. Her head rolls.)
MR MAGNEER: Hark at that — take him seriously!
SALLY (exhausted): Don’t! Don’t! Oh don’t!
BRENTNALL: Sally, my dear, you are too discouraging for anything. Sit with me nicely.
SALLY: Oh! (Lays her head on his shoulder.)
BRENTNALL: Now we’re coming on. (Kisses her.) You’ve not chipped with Charlie, have you?
SALLY: What d’you want to know for?
BRENTNALL: Sally, my darling.
MR MAGNEER: Gosh, it’s come to “darling” — ”darling Sally”!
BRENTNALL: You haven’t, have you?
SALLY: No.
BRENTNALL: Why hasn’t he come to-night?
SALLY: Because he wasn’t asked.
BRENTNALL: Has he cooled off lately?
SALLY: I don’t care whether he has or not.
BRENTNALL: Neither do I. (Kisses her under the ear. She squeals.)
JACK: God love you, Sally!
ADA: Don’t play cribbage any more, Mr Magneer. Do play the comb-band.
MR MAGNEER (throwing away his cards): No, I won’t play any more. Fill up an’ let’s have a dance.
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ADA: Yes, yes, yes!
The men drink — SALLY and GRAINGER push aside the table.
GRAINGER: Comb-band, Mr Magneer?
MR MAGNEER (wrapping the comb in tissue paper): That’s the very item. (He staggers slightly — all the men are affected by drink.)
SALLY (to GRAINGER): You’re going to have one with me?
GRAINGER (awkwardly): Er — I’d promised Ada.
ADA: That doesn’t matter. Mr Brentnall will dance with me.
MR MAGNEER (sounding the comb): Now then, are you ready? Sally’s the belle of the ball, and you, Doctor, it’s your party — so lead off.
GRAINGER: Polka — plain polka.
BRENTNALL: We shan’t have breath to speak a word.
SALLY: Oh my goodness!
The comb-band buzzes away — they start to dance in a prancing fashion.
SALLY: You’re not going to leave me?
GRAINGER: I s’ll have to.
SALLY: But you can’t.
GRAINGER: Why not?
SALLY: You can’t leave me now.
GRAINGER: But I’ve got to go to London —
JACK: Do you reckon you’re really fond of me?
EMILY: I know I am — I don’t reckon.
JACK: Not so very good —
EMILY: Why not?
JACK: Do you reckon you’ve been nice to me all this while?
EMILY: All what while?
JACK: While I’ve been coming to see you.
EMILY: And have you been very nice to me, Jack?
JACK: Well, haven’t I?
EMILY: No, Jack, you haven’t.
JACK: What do you mean?
ADA: I posted her the letter yesterday.
BRENTNALL: Why, did you know the address?
ADA: Yes, you told Annie.
BRENTNALL: Did I? Oh Lord, you little imp.
ADA: It’s our turn now.
BRENTNALL: Whose turn?
ADA: The women’s.
BRENTNALL: Don’t be a vixen —
GRAINGER: Well, you won’t say anything, will you? You see how I’m fixed.
SALLY: I don’t know.
GRAINGER: I’ll see you to-morrow — keep it back till then.
SALLY: You’ll see me to-morrow?
GRAINGER: Yes —
JACK: You think I ought to get engaged to you?
EMILY: Or else you ought never to have come as you have — you had the option.
JACK: I dunna want to get married, somehow, Emily.
EMILY: Is that final, Jack?
JACK: What do you say?
EMILY: You leave me nothing to say.
JACK: Good God, Emily, I’m not a brute.
EMILY: I’ve heard you say so often, Jack. But you don’t think it’s been very happy for me — our — our friendship?
JACK: Good God, Emily — have I been — ?
EMILY: Afraid of me, Jack. It’s rather humiliating.
JACK: You can have me if you like — I’m not good enough —
EMILY: You know I consider you good enough.
JACK: Yis — I know you do.
EMILY: Men lack honour nowadays.
JACK: Good God!
They dance — SALLY suddenly drops exhausted on a couch — GRAINGER moves to the other side of the room. JACK MAGNEER flings off his coat.
JACK: By the Lord, it’s hot work! Take your coat off, George.
GRAINGER and BRENTNALL take off their coats.
MR MAGNEER: My word, you went well. Have a drink.
SALLY: Is th’ door open? Set the back door open, Jack.
He goes out and returns.
BRENTNALL: Have the next with me, Sally.
SALLY: I will if you like.
ADA: What shall it be?
BRENTNALL: Waltz Valeta.
GRAINGER: Try a tune, Mr Magneer.
MR MAGNEER, having repapered his comb, tries a tune. GRAINGER instructs him. They start off, SALLY with BRENTNALL, GRAINGER with ADA CALLADINE.
BRENTNALL: Why would you rather dance with Dr Grainger?
SALLY: I wouldn’t.
BRENTNALL: Yes, you would. Don’t forget the two shuffle steps — one — two!
SALLY: I’ve never done that before.
BRENTNALL: Something I’ve taught you then. But why would you rather dance with Grainger?
SALLY: I wouldn’t.
BRENTNALL: You would.
SALLY: I wouldn’t.
BRENTNALL: You would. You’re in love with him.
SALLY: Me! That I never am!
BRENTNALL: You are!
SALLY: Well, I never did!
BRENTNALL: And you’re a fool to be in love with him.
SALLY: Why?
BRENTNALL: For the best of all reasons.
SALLY: What’s that?
BRENTNALL: Because he’s married.
SALLY: He’s not!
BRENTNALL: He is — and has got a son.
SALLY: Where?
BRENTNALL: In Wolverhampton, where he came from.
SALLY: Oh, let’s sit down.
BRENTNALL: No, you must dance with me. Don’t you like to dance with me? It’s too bad, Sally.
SALLY: I’m getting dizzy.
BRENTNALL: You can’t, not in Valeta. Besides, we’ll walk the waltz steps. (He puts his arm around her.)
SALLY: It’s not right about Dr Grainger, is it?
A LADY in motor cloak and wrap appears in the doorway. The men, slightly tipsy, bend talking to their partners, who are engrossed. No one notices the newcomer.
BRENTNALL: It is, on my honour. You believe me, Sally?
She looks him earnestly in the face, as they dance the forward step. When they come together for the waltz, he kisses her.
You believe me?
SALLY (almost in tears): Yes.
BRENTNALL: It is true. Poor Sally. (Kisses her again. They begin to laugh.)
JACK: Alright, I niver looked at it in that light.
EMILY: I know you didn’t.
JACK: We’ll count as we’re engaged from now, then?
EMILY: What will your father say?
JACK: He’ll be just fussy.
EMILY: I want him to know — I am so fond of him.
ADA: Oh!
GRAINGER: What?
They break apart. JACK and BRENTNALL keep on dancing, the latter kissing SALLY. GRAINGER goes unsteadily to the doorway.
THE LADY: I called to see Mr Brentnall — but don’t disturb him, he looks so happy.
GRAINGER: Does — does he know you?
THE LADY: A little. (She laughs.)
GRAINGER: Billy! Billy!
BRENTNALL (looking up): What now? (Sees the lady.) No!
He leaves SALLY — she sways, he catches her again, takes her to a seat, draws his fingers across her cheek caressingly, and goes to the doorway, reeling slightly.
Quite giddy, don’t you know! Space is so small.
THE LADY: Not much room for you to spread out, was there?
BRENTNALL: Was I hugging Sally?
THE LADY: Sally! How lovely, how perfectly lovely!
BRENTNALL: Did I kiss her?
Complete Works of D.H. Lawrence Page 698