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

Anthony. I will tell you what I will do, Dolly: I will do just what you taught me – my duty: that, and nothing else.

Dorothy. O Anthony, you also, you to strike me! Heavens, shall I kill them – I – I, that love them, kill them! Miserable, sinful girl! George, George, thank God, you will be far away! O go, George, go at once!

Anthony. He goes the coward! Ay, is this more of your contrivance? Madam, you make me blush. But to-day at least I know where I can find him. This afternoon, on the Pantiles, he must dance attendance on the Duke of York. Already he must be there; and there he is at my mercy.

Dorothy. Thank God, you are deceived: he will not fight. He promised me that; thank God I have his promise for that.

Anthony. Promise! Do you see this? (producing necklace) the thing he bribed your maid with? I shall dash it in his teeth before the Duke and before all Tunbridge. Promise, you poor fool? what promise holds against a blow? Get to your knees and pray for him; for, by the God above, if he has any blood in his body, one of us shall die before to-night. (He goes out.)

Dorothy. Anthony, Anthony!.. O my God, George will kill him.

Music: ‘Chè farò,’ as the drop falls.

Drop

ACT IV

Musical Induction: ‘Gavotte;’ ‘Iphigénie en Aulide.’

    Gluck

The Stage represents the Pantiles: the alleys fronting the spectators in parallel lines. At the back, a stand of musicians, from which the ‘Gavotte’ is repeated on muted strings. The music continues nearly through Scene I. Visitors walking to and fro beneath the lines. A seat in front, L.

SCENE I

Miss Foster, Barbara, Menteith; Visitors

Miss Foster (entering; escorted by Menteith, and followed by Barbara). And so, Menteith, here you are once more. And vastly pleased I am to see you, my good fellow, not only for your own sake, but because you harbinger the Beau. (Sits, L.; Menteith standing over her.)

Menteith. Honoured madam, I have had the pleasure to serve Mr. George for more than thirty years. This is a privilege – a very great privilege. I have beheld him in the first societies, moving among the first rank of personages; and none, madam, none outshone him.

Barbara. I assure you, madam, when Mr. Menteith took me to the play, he talked so much of Mr. Austin that I couldn’t hear a word of Mr. Kean.

Miss Foster. Well, well, and very right. That was the old school of service, Barbara, which you would do well to imitate. This is a child, Menteith, that I am trying to form.

Menteith. Quite so, madam.

Miss Foster. And are we soon to see our princely guest, Menteith?

Menteith. His Royal Highness, madam? I believe I may say quite so. Mr. George will receive our gallant prince upon the Pantiles (looking at his watch) in, I should say, a matter of twelve minutes from now. Such, madam, is Mr. George’s order of the day.

Barbara. I beg your pardon, madam, I am sure, but are we really to see one of His Majesty’s own brothers? That will be pure! O madam, this is better than Carlisle.

Miss Foster. The wood-note wild: a loyal Cumbrian, Menteith.

Menteith. Eh? Quite so, madam.

Miss Foster. When she has seen as much of the Royal Family as you, my good fellow, she will find it vastly less entertaining.

Menteith. Yes, madam, indeed; In these distinguished circles, life is but a slavery. None of the best set would relish Tunbridge without Mr. George; Tunbridge and Mr. George (if you’ll excuse my plainness, madam) are in a manner of speaking identified; and indeed it was the Dook’s desire alone that brought us here.

Barbara. What? the Duke? O dear! was it for that?

Menteith. Though, to be sure, madam, Mr. George would always be charmed to find himself (bowing) among so many admired members of his own set.

Miss Foster. Upon my word, Menteith, Mr. Austin is as fortunate in his servant as his reputation.

Menteith. Quite so, madam. But let me observe that the opportunities I have had of acquiring a knowledge of Mr. George’s character have been positively unrivalled. Nobody knows Mr. George like his old attendant. The goodness of that gentleman – but, madam, you will soon be equally fortunate, if, as I understand, it is to be a match.

Miss Foster. I hope, Menteith, you are not taking leave of your senses. Is it possible you mean my niece?

Menteith. Madam, I have the honour to congratulate you. I put a second curl in Mr. George’s hair on purpose.

SCENE II

To these, Austin. Menteith falls back, and Austin takes his place in front of Miss Foster, his attitude a counterpart of Menteith’s.

Austin. Madam, I hasten to present my homage.

Miss Foster. A truce to compliments! Menteith, your charming fellow there, has set me positively crazy. Dear George Austin, is it true? can it be true?

Austin. Madam, if he has been praising your niece he has been well inspired. If he was speaking, as I spoke an hour ago myself, I wish, Miss Foster, that he had held his tongue. I have indeed offered myself to Miss Dorothy, and she, with the most excellent reason, has refused me.

Miss Foster. Is it possible? why, my dear George Austin.. then I suppose it is John Fenwick after all!

Austin. Not one of us is worthy.

Miss Foster. This is the most amazing circumstance. You take my breath away. My niece refuse George Austin? why, I give you my word, I thought she had adored you. A perfect scandal: it positively must not get abroad.

Austin. Madam, for that young lady I have a singular regard. Judge me as tenderly as you can, and set it down, if you must, to an old man’s vanity – for, Evelina, we are no longer in the heyday of our youth – judge me as you will: I should prefer to have it known.

Miss Foster. Can you? George Austin, you? My youth was nothing; I was a failure; but for you? no, George, you never can, you never must be old. You are the triumph of my generation, George, and of our old friendship too. Think of my first dance and my first partner. And to have this story – no, I could not bear to have it told of you.

Austin. Madam, there are some ladies over whom it is a boast to have prevailed; there are others whom it is a glory to have loved. And I am so vain, dear Evelina, that even thus I am proud to link my name with that of Dorothy Musgrave.

Miss Foster. George, you are changed. I would not know you.

Austin. I scarce know myself. But pardon me, dear friend (taking his watch), in less than four minutes our illustrious guest will descend amongst us; and I observe Mr. Fenwick, with whom I have a pressing business. Suffer me, dear Evelina! —

SCENE III

To these, Fenwick. Miss Foster remains seated, L. Austin goes R. to Fenwick, whom he salutes with great respect

Austin. Mr. Fenwick, I have played and lost. That noble lady, justly incensed at my misconduct, has condemned me. Under the burden of such a loss, may I console myself with the esteem of Mr. Fenwick?

Fenwick. She refused you? Pardon me, sir, but was the fault not yours?

Austin. Perhaps to my shame, I am no novice, Mr. Fenwick; but I have never felt nor striven as to-day. I went upon your errand; but, you may trust me, sir, before I had done I found it was my own. Until to-day I never rightly valued her; sure, she is fit to be a queen. I have a remorse here at my heart to which I am a stranger. Oh! that was a brave life, that was a great heart that I have ruined.