The Plays of W. E. Henley and R. L. Stevenson

Brodie (taking the bloody dagger from the table). See, do you understand that?

Mary. Ah! What, what is it!

Brodie. Blood. I have killed a man.

Mary. You?.

Brodie. I am a murderer; I was a thief before. Your brother.. the old man’s only son!

Mary. Walter, Walter, come to me!

Brodie. Now you see that I must die; now you see that I stand upon the grave’s edge, all my lost life behind me, like a horror to think upon, like a frenzy, like a dream that is past. And you, you are alone. Father, brother, they are gone from you; one to heaven, one.. !

Mary. Hush, dear, hush! Kneel, pray; it is not too late to repent. Think of our father dear; repent. (She weeps, straining to his bosom.) O Willie, my darling boy, repent and join us.

SCENE VI

To these, Lawson, Leslie, Jean

Lawson. She kens a’, thank the guid Lord!

Brodie (to Mary). I know you forgive me now; I ask no more. That is a good man. (To Leslie.) Will you take her from my hands? (Leslie takes Mary.) Jean, are ye here to see the end?

Jean. Eh man, can ye no fly? Could ye no say that it was me?

Brodie. No, Jean, this is where it ends. Uncle, this is where it ends. And to think that not an hour ago I still had hopes! Hopes! Ay, not an hour ago I thought of a new life. You were not forgotten, Jean. Leslie, you must try to forgive me.. you, too!

Leslie. You are her brother.

Brodie (to Lawson). And you?

Lawson. My name-child and my sister’s bairn!

Brodie. You won’t forget Jean, will you? nor the child?

Lawson. That I will not.

Mary. O Willie, nor I.

SCENE VII

To these, Hunt

Hunt. The game’s up, Deacon. I’ll trouble you to come along with me.

Brodie (behind the table). One moment, officer: I have a word to say before witnesses ere I go. In all this there is but one man guilty; and that man is I. None else has sinned; none else must suffer. This poor woman (pointing to Jean) I have used; she never understood. Mr. Procurator-Fiscal, that is my dying confession. (He snatches his hanger from the table, and rushes upon Hunt, who parries, and runs him through. He reels across the stage and falls.) The new life.. the new life! (He dies.)

Curtain

BEAU AUSTIN

DEDICATED

WITH ADMIRATION AND RESPECT

TO

GEORGE MEREDITH

Bournemouth:

1stOctober 1884.

PERSONS REPRESENTED

The Time is 1820. The Scene is laid at Tunbridge Wells. The Action occupies a space of ten hours.

HAYMARKET THEATRE

Monday, November 3d, 1890

CAST

PROLOGUE

Spoken by Mr. Tree in the character of Beau Austin

‘To all and singular,’ as Dryden says,
We bring a fancy of those Georgian days,
Whose style still breathed a faint and fine perfume
Of old-world courtliness and old-world bloom:
When speech was elegant and talk was fit
For slang had not been canonised as wit;
When manners reigned, when breeding had the wall,
And Women – yes! – were ladies first of all;
When Grace was conscious of its gracefulness,
And man – though Man! – was not ashamed to dress.
A brave formality, a measured ease,
Were his – and her’s – whose effort was to please.
And to excel in pleasing was to reign
And, if you sighed, never to sigh in vain.

But then, as now – it may be, something more —
Woman and man were human to the core.
The hearts that throbbed behind that quaint attire
Burned with a plenitude of essential fire.
They too could risk, they also could rebel,
They could love wisely – they could love too well.
In that great duel of Sex, that ancient strife