Nio.Hail to thee! What man art thou? How came you in this strange guise? Are you a slave?
Dunn.Yes—No—Certainly not! (aside) There’s no use in letting every stranger know I’m a cipher in my own house.
Nio.A Lord?
Dunn.(timidly rising) Lord and Master! (aside) I can truthfully say it while Helen is not on the premises.
NiobeapproachesDunnbefore speaking; he backs away from her.
Nio.How strange! (goes lower and regarding him, back to audience) How strange!
Dunn.(with wonderment) Strange! She thinks me strange! If she could only change places and regard herself, and doubt the existence of her faculties, as I do—(Niobenow moves, going upR.) When I see her move and hear her speak. No!I’ve got to believe it.It’s the Electricity. She’sthere alive, Niobe herself; not a Statue. And I’m not dreaming, ordrunk or demented. (staggers front of table)
Niobehas looked round apartment.
Nio.(advancingC.) Who has made these changes? Where’s Amphion? Is he not yet back from Olympia?
Dunn.(gettingL.of table, half frightened) I’m sure I don’t know—he’ll be some time yet; if he is staying for the Ballet.
Nio.Who has won the Kotinos of poetry? MyAmphionwas the Alutarches.
Dunn.Very likely! But he isn’t now! I’m afraid you don’t quite realize what has happened to you. That you have just been—revived—I suppose—as it were: That you’re not in your Palacehere, butmine! That we are now in Anno Domini 1896, and that the trifling events you’re thinking and speaking of, occurred about one thousand years B. C.; before you changed your mortal flesh into Parian marble.
During this speech,Niobe, her hand to her head, appears to be trying to recall the past.
Nio.(as if recollecting—coming down stage) Ah! No! The gods! Knowledge returns; alas! Phœbus and Artemis punished me—Changed! Ah fate! Oh, my unhappy fate. (kneeling, sobs bitterly)
Dunn.(L. C.) That’s a settler—I never can; I nevercouldbear to see a woman cry—Never! There, don’t grieve, dear; you were turned into stone, but you’ve turned out all right; don’t cry! Please don’t cry.
Nio.Ah me! That I so easily ammoved.
Dunn.Well, it took eight men to carry you in here.
Nio.(crossesL.) I’ll dry these tears, the cause of my hard lot.
Dunn.The hardest lot ever put up; when you consider you’ve gone all these years without so much as having your nose chipped off! Why, you’ve been buried for centuries. (Niobelooks at him in wonder) And if they hadn’t started exploring the ruins of some of those old Temples, you’d be there still. I’m aware it’s a delicate subject with a lady, but I should estimate you must be close onthree thousand years old.
Nio.(looking at him indignantly) How?
Dunn.(backing away fromNiobe) Oh, you don’t look it!
Nio.(L.) Three thousand years! Oh, Zeus, and now the ban, the curse of mighty Phœbus is removed.
Dunn.(C.) Yes! And Phœbus is gone, too.
Niobegoes upL.behind and round table toC.
Nio.And all is new! Is this the Hesitaterion? The Throni are strange, the Katoptron colossal.
Dunn.Yes, you’ve got to do things big now-a-days.
Nio.(approachingDunnC.) You truly say, the ages have rolled by; my husband, children, dead! In all the world, I have no one but you. (taking his hand)
Dunn.(snatching hand away—crosses toL.of her) No one but me! You’ve no claim on me;—that is—I have no claim onyou!
Nio.(quickly) Ah yes! I am no ingrate; takeallmy love; you gave new life to me, and I am yours.
Falls upon his neck, embracing him.
Dunn.White Elephants, what am I going to do with her? (Niobeturns him round toR.of her)
Nio.(holding him at arm’s length) You are not much to look at; (Dunnturns away) but your heart——
Dunn.(R. C.) Now don’t count uponthat. And don’t indulge in expectations that can never be realized.
Nio.Your mien is soft—(hand on his head) Have you a noble name?
Dunn.Peter Amos——
Nio.(gushingly) Petramos! Petramos! And I will love Petramos, as I have loved Amphion; and there will be no happier twain in Greece!
She has taken his hands, and now swings them about childishly.
Dunn.Yes—you’re mapping it all out, but it can’tbe; for a variety of reasons: In the first place, we’renotin Greece. (crossesL.)
Nio.(in wonderment, gettingC.) Not in Greece?
Dunn.(returning to her) No! We’re in London, the Capital of a little Island called Great Britain, hundreds of miles from Thebes.
Nio.You speak our tongue. And are you not a Greek?
Dunn.(L. C.) Not much! And we’re not speaking Greek, but English—though how you picked it up is a mystery to me.
Nio.We understand each other, that’s enough. What else there is to know, I’ll learn fromyou, now that I’msettled here.
Nestling up to and resting against him.
Dunn.(alarmed) Butyou’re not settled here! And it’s out of the question! (he speaks very angrily andNiobestarts to sob) No, no! You’re a very charming lady and personally I shouldn’t object to your stopping for a week or so, but I have a wife!
Nio.But you are Lord and could put heraway.
Dunn.Oh could I! And she has an elder sister. Perhaps you could tell me what I’m going to do withher?
Nio.It is not hard! Why, sell her for a slave! (pose)
Dunn.(goesL.) I should like to, but I don’t think anybody would buy Helen unless a great big life insurance policy went along with her; besides Slavery is abolished, and if you weren’t so ignorant you’d know that; and know how wrong it is to fill one with delusive hopes like these.
Dunngoes towards window.
Nio.Ah, be not angered with me, Petramos. If you reject me, life restored is wrecked, and I shall die.
Niobekneels and sobs.
Dunn(returns againL. C.) Well, after three thousand years, you can’t complain if youhaveto. You’ve had a pretty good innings. She’s at it again. I can’t stand hearing a woman cry like this, and she is pretty, considering what a back number she is. Don’t cry, stop it, don’t cry, please—there’s a dear. (patting her head)
Nio.(clinging to him—rises) And youdolove me, Petramos?
Dunn.Oh, well in a way! (Niobesuddenly crying) Don’t! don’t cry! Yes! Yes!
Niobeinstantly cheerful, standing erect.
Nio.And we will sacrifice to Dusky Dis; and pray him to take your wife to Hades. (pose)
Dunn.But I don’t want my wife to go to—who’s Dusky Dis? Some Nigger Minstrel?
Nio.The stern proud God of Tartarus!
Dunn.(disgusted) Oh, he’s played out long ago; there’s no such party—you mustn’t suppose the world has been standing still while you’ve been in a state of Petrifaction; we’ve been going ahead, and the gods have had to knock under.
DunnsitsR.of table.
Nio.(C.) No Gods? No Zeus? No Aphrodite?
Dunn.Not one! Except in Heathen mythology—why you’re a heathen.
Nio.I am!
Dunn.A Pagan idolater, and you’ll have to be converted.
Nio.Iwasconverted.
Dunn.Eh?
Nio.Into stone!
Dunn.Not that! You’ll have to go to school, and learn the Piano, and the Alphabet.
Nio.Alphabet—Ah! (action with hands) Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta.
Dunn.(rises) Very likely! But that doesn’t get over the difficulty of what is going to be done with you; and look at it as we will youcannotremain here.
Nio.(R. C.; after slight pause) I have no friends! No home!Wherecan I go?
Dunn.Your case has not been altogether unprovided for; as there is a home for lost dogs, so also is there an asylum for ladies in distress.
Nio.Can I go out into a vicious world in direst ignorance of all its ways?
Dunn.Oh, I don’t suppose it’s any worse than it was in your time. (Niobesobs) You’re quite right, you can’t, and it would be brutal to send you out, at this time of night too.
Niobesits on front of pedestal.
Nio.The gods, alas, are angered with me still. (sobbing)
Dunn.She’s at it again! No wonder the gods gottired. Don’t! please don’t cry; and we’ll hit upon some plan; if I only knew what to say to my family. (stands dejectedlyC.)
Nio.Say whence I came—and how—tell them the truth!
Dunn.Tell themwhat?Whatd’ye take me for? Some outrageous, ridiculous liemightpass muster, but the truth,a truth like this! you couldn’t ask them to believe it. George Washington would have found this too strong for his veracity.
Nio.(R. C.) Who is Washington?
Dunn.Oh, he was an American fighting man; you wouldn’t know him. You were before his time. (looks at watch, at window) Is that the time? (goes round table to window;Niobemeanwhile lies full length on stage, head toR.on stool) They’ll be home from the Theatre presently; whatamI to do? (turning up from window, comes down centre)
SeesNiobeand covers her feet with drapery from piano and goes again anxiously to window;MaryentersL. C., going to fire;Dunnrushes her offR. C.
Dunn.I’ll ring if I require coals. I’ll ring, Mary, ring—(coming downC.) Madame! Niobe! You can’t be seen like that, you must do something withyourself—(Niobehalf rises) You’d better go upstairs and put some of my wife’s clothes on!
Nio.(kneeling) I tore my Peplos in excess of grief!
Dunn.Yes! Yes! I see you did; go upstairs, and dress while I think out some plan.
DunnR.as if in great worry, asNioberises, moving upC.
Nio.(turning back) I fear I don’t knowhowto dressmyself.
Dunn.Oh, well,I can’t! You must try, try! up the stairs there—on the right—first door when you reach the top.
Nio.Petramos! All my will I’ll yield to thine,Do thou but clear thy brow of fretfulness.Thy anger, linked with fury of the godsI could not bear! I could not bear!
Niobeexits weeping up stairsC. R., the footlights up through this scene, to assist the comedy, now low again.
Dunn.(staggered—sits end of couch—a pause) What an uncompleted idiot I am. My wife will recognize her clothes—(running to stairs, sees trunk which he secures and brings down stage) The Governess’s trunk! If my keys will only fit it, no, no! They never do—Yes—that’s lucky! (raising lid of trunk and closing it again) How clever you thought yourself, Peter Amos Dunn, when you suggested to yourself bringing that d——d Statue into the house. It isn’t there! It isn’t there! (closes screen—looks round—straightens room—picks up drapery, etc.; crosses to mirror, re-arranges himself, tie, smooths hair, goes down L. of table and pours himself a drink, hand shakes. He cannot get it to his mouth; sops his handkerchief and putting it to his brow, crosses and sits on trunk. Loud knock at door;Dunnjumping up; shoulders trunk and rushes upstairs)
Knocking;MarycrossesR.toL.;Inningsthen enters,MaryfollowingL. C.
Inn.Not back yet, eh?
Mary.No Sir! (going downL.to lamp)
Inn.(looking at watch) Oh, well, they won’t be long, it’s close upon eleven. (sits on sofaR.)
Mary.I will turn up the lamp, Sir, I thought the Master was here.
Maryturns up lamp; lights full on.
Inn.They’d have stretched a point and taken me with them, but for that confounded Helen. Perhaps they’re walking, it’s a beautiful night.
DunnentersC.andR.down stairs.
Dunn.(worried and anxious—downC.) Ah! that’s right, Mary, let’s have a light on the subject—(starts at seeingInnings) Back before them, eh Innings? But they can’t be long—it’s so hot, so late—what’s that—is not that a carriage?
Mary.No, Sir!
Dunn.(L .C.) I said not—I said not—don’t argue, Mary; don’t argue—(has got near table, takes up empty water jug and empty glass) Why have you no water here? How can I be expected to wash—drink—if you have no water (loud knock—Maryfrightened of him rushes round front of table toR.)
Dunnbacks to centre; he keeps water jug and glass until end of act.
Inn.(R.) There they are!
Dunn.I knew they’d return—(knock) They’ll have to come in, won’t they? (knock—toMary) Go! Go! And open the door; don’t stand there like an idiot.
MaryexitsC.andL.
Inn.You’re very fidgetty, Dunn, what’s wrong?
Dunn.Wrong! Do I look as if I was, why—why should there be anything wrong?
Savagely toInnings;Inningsafraid, crosses toL.corner.
Inn.I never saw you like this before.
Dunn.I neverwaslike this before.
Falls into chairR.of tableL. C.
Hat.(enteringC., comes down to back ofDunn) Peter! (Dunnstarts up) It was too delightful for anything. I’m so sorry you didn’t come.
Dunndrops again in chair asHattiegoesR.taking off gloves, etc., etc.;CorneyentersL. C.
Dunn.So am I—I’d have given a hundred pounds to have been with you.
Corn.(C., taking off gloves) Hundred pounds! Oh, come! What for?
Dunn.Wh—er——It’s a favourite play of mine.
Corn.(crossing toL.) Pygmalion and Galatea?
Dunn.Was that it?
Corn.Yes! Lovely girl, Galatea. Never saw anything like her as theStatue.
Dunn.(starting up) Statue! What’s the matter with the Statue? (rushing to screen, meetsCarrie, who entersL. C., coming front screen) Eh! Ha! Ha! And did you enjoy it, Carrie?
Car.(R. C.) Very much, Peter! (HelenentersL. C., remains upC.)
Dunn.(wild and exhausted with worry) Ah! How interesting those old legends are; how beautiful the revive—animating—of the Statue! And if you were told of such a wonder now-a-days, you—you wouldn’t believe it perhaps.
Music till end of act. Comic Agitato.
Hel.(coming downC.) Now-a-days, nor any other time. No woman of ordinary intelligence could be deceived by such a story.
Dunnback to audienceR. C., looking anxiously from one to the other.
Corn.(L.of table nearInnings) And what’s your idea of Galatea?
Hel.(going towards chairR.of table) That she was some infamous creature whom Pygmalion had brought into his household; and that the Statue tale was made up to hoodwink his confiding wife. (sits)
Car.Ah!! Quite possible.
Carrieback of sofa.
Dunn.(falling on stool front of couch) No use! I knew the truth was no use.
NiobeentersR. C.in an eccentric but stylish tea robe.
Nio.(speaking as she advancesC.) I have obeyed you, Petramos, and I am here—(all turn to her)
Dunnrises frightened, gettingR.ofNiobe.
Hel.Who is this?
Dunn.(R. C.—introducing) The new Governess,Miss Mifton!
Corn.Miss Mifton——
Inn.There! I told you so!
Looks atInningsand falls into chairL.of table, the others grouped, scrutinizingNiobe.
Nio.(with her accustomed action) Hail to you!
PICTURE. CURTAIN.
Scene.—Dunn’sdrawing-room, the opposite end to Act I. Conservatory with steps at backC.Bay windowR.Plain window or blank piece above. Blank piece or AlcoveL.Door above to Library. TableR. C.with chairs. CouchL.FootstoolL. C.Screen is not on; is supposed to be at audience side of room. Piano against flat. Paper on table.
HelenupC.andCarrieat windowR.dressed for walking; discovered interviewingMary, upL. C.
Hel.Can you not tell us Mary, at what hour she came?
Mary.I don’t know, ma’am—I didn’t hear her come and I didn’t let her in.
Hel.You hear Carrie,he let her in himself.
Car.(R. C.) I don’t see why we should attach any importance to that!
Mary.No Ma’am, for she might have got in by herself; she is the strangest person I ever met, Ma’am.
Hel.In what way?
HattieentersL., goes to couch, playing with mechanical toy.
Mary.Why, the name she gives things. She asked me at breakfast to hand her the Mazas, and when I didn’t understand her, she called meHelot, and pointed to the muffins.
Hat.If you’re talking about Miss Mifton, sheisa treat. She’s got a new name for sausages.
Car.If she will only be good to the children.
Hat.You needn’t worry about that. If you’d seen the way she wept over them, and kissed and fondled them. And called themHippicusandAlophagos.
Hel.(sternly) Who are they?
Hat.Oh, I didn’t like to ask—some connections of her own, perhaps.
Hel.No doubt! They are sufficiently outlandish; the idea of a Governess, wandering about the house in an extravagant tea gown; impertinence I call it.
Mary.I suppose we’re to take our orders fromyouas usual, Mum?
Hel.Yes! Certainly!
Mary.Thank ye! I don’t want to havethatperson lording itover me.
MaryexitsL. D.with an indignant toss of her head.
Car.(R.) She’s no doubt one of those highly emotional creatures, who grow hysterical at almost anything.
Hel.(coming slightly forward) Carrie, you’reso confiding; such affectation wouldn’t suitme.
Car.But you always were superior toordinarywoman’s weakness.
Hat.Weakness! Oh, there’s no flipperty flop about Helen.
Hel.(advances towardsHattie) Hattie! When you are more like me, you will have more cause for self-respect.
Hat.Oh! I’ve nothing against myself as I am.
Car.When we return you must examine her Helen, and find out if she is competent to teach the children.
Hel.I will, but take my word for it, the Woman is a fraud. She knows nothingthat is desirable. In knowledge and learning she is little better than an idiot; I could see that in her face last night.
Hat.Helen’s a judge of idiots.
Hel.Hattie! You’re growing more impudent every day.
Hat.Well, if I keep on, I’ll grow out of it.
Car.I wonder when Peter saw her at Chester that he wasn’t impressed with her appearance.
Hel.(with malicious meaning) Perhaps he was!
Car.She might be the advanced guard of a gang of thieves, and Peter has some such thought, perhaps, as he has not gone to the office.
Hel.Your confiding nature does you credit, Carrie, but you are too ingenuous. He may be actuated by motivesfar less praiseworthy.
Car.What do you mean, Helen?
Hel.I would not say Carrie, for I make it a rule never to stir up ill feeling between man and wife. (going upC.)
EnterInnings.
Inn.(on steps) Good morning, Ladies! Corney gone out yet?
Car.He is still engaged with his breakfast. He is always late after a Theatre night.
CarrieexitsC.andR.
Hel.(severely and pointedly) His indolence is a source of great inconvenience to us all.
HelenexitsC.andR.Inningslooking atHattieon sofa—crosses to window, putting hat on chairR.oftable in recess of window, produces box of chocolates which he places ready for business later; then, half frightened, gets extremeR.at window.
Inn.(R.) They’re gone!
Hat.(on sofa) Yes! I see they are! You didn’t intend that for information did you? It was only—only just a something to say—to—fill up a page kind of remark, wasn’t it?
Inn.(at window) That’s all—simply to call your attention to the fact that we are alone.
Hat.Oh, you needn’t have called; my attention was rivetted;—but I don’t feel in the least embarrassed; do you?
Inn.No!
Hat.Well—why aren’t you embarrassed? (rises, coming toC.)
Inn.Don’t see what there is aboutyouto frighten a fellow.
Hat.I don’t believe you’re so bold as you pretend; judging from the respectful distance you keep.
Inn.Don’t youwantme to be respectful?
Hat.Why of course, but you needn’t be distant.
Inn.(crosses slowly to her) If I thought by coming nearer, I should be getting dearer——
Hat.Wouldn’t you be getting costly? You’re pretty near now!
Inn.(R. C.—getting closer toHattie;Hat.bus.) So are you, Hattie. You’re pretty near and pretty far, but the nearer I am the sweeter you are. Ha! Ha!
Hat.Oh! You don’t flatter yourself much to think that your proximity makesmesweeter.
Sarcastically; turning from him.
Inn.To me! I mean in my opinion! Oh, Hattie!
Hat.(quickly) What is it, Philip? (whisking round)
Inn.(turning away) I wonder how long Corneyusuallytakes over his breakfast.
Hat.Oh, I can go and ask him, ifthat’s allyou want to know.
Hattiegoing upL.
Inn.(pulling her back by her dress; she in mischief runs for chair, trying to sit upon his hat, which he saves) Oh, Hattie! oh my! oh I—I don’t want to know particularly.
Corneyenters quietly from Library upL., sees them and goes out again.
It’s good enough to stay here and go on wondering—with you. Of course—I don’t want to wonder by myself. Oh, Hattie!
Hat.Oh, Mr. Innings. (gushingly)
Innings, kneeling besideHattie, embraces her;Corneysings outside;HattieandInningshurriedly get away from each other;Hattiegoes and sits on couchL.;Inningsgoes extremeR.to window recess.
Corn.(enteringL.and downC.; sings)“When the heart in palpitating is impressed with fear,You’re pleased to find a being where there’s no one nearAnd whisper foolish nothings no one else may hear,That is love! That is love!”
Do you know, Phil, I’ve been haunted by that song ever since you started me at it; Hattie’s crazed on it too.
Hat.Oh, Corney! Why I’m only learning it.
Corn.Yes, but you’ve nearly mastered it I can see. (looks atInnings) I interrupted your practice, didn’t I?
Hat.(impertinently up in his face) I don’t understand.
Corn.(pushing her upC.) Oh, yes you do! See if you can find my cigar case in the Conservatory; I rather fancy I left it there last night.
Corneyturns down stageL.;InningsgivesHattiebox of chocolates quickly; asCorneyturns on exclamation they separate.
Hat.Oh chocks! (toInnings) We can resume our conversation some other time, Mr. Innings.
Inn.I was going to ask you if we couldn’t, and will you please make a note of where we left off?
Hat.(sings) “And whisper foolish nothings no one else may hear. That is love! That is——” Ugh! (atCorney)
Inningsstands upC.looking afterHattie, throwing kisses to her—echoes “That is love—That is——”
Corn.(after watchingInnings, swings down stage near couch) Come here Phil! Never mind Hattie, she’ll keep. Anything fresh? Have you learnt anything new?
Inn.There’s nothing new to learn that I can see. Madeline Mifton’s here, and you’ve got to prepare for the worst. (lies on couch putting his legs up)
Corn.(C.) It is the most striking coincidence I ever heard of; that the sister of the girl I jilted should take the place of Governess, and come here, by the merest accident.
Inn.Do yousuppose it was accident?
Corn.Oh, come Phil—you don’t think it was design?
Inn.I do! Didn’t I tell you last evening that she was coming to London to hunt you down!
Corn.Yes! But who could realize such persistency outside a Gaboriau Novel.
Inn.Have you seen her yet?
Corn.Not this morning—she’s in the nursery with the children.She’s very like her sister.There’s something weird about her, but the exact type of features. (crossesR. C.)
Inn.What do you intend to do? Have you made up your mind?
Corn.Yes! (crossing back to him) I’ve decided to getyouto talk to her, Phil——
Inn.(sits up) Me?
Corn.You can give it her straight—show her clearly that I was cajoled into proposing to her sister, that it was really Ethel’s fault, and that she’s entirely to blame for the whole business, and there you are!
Inn.I couldn’t do it; it doesn’t seem nice to throw all the blame on to the girl.
Corn.It belongs to her, Phil—besides, my boy, you know that the least thing upsets me. I cannot stand worry; now you can; (Inningsrises) you have one of those oxydised-zinc constitutions.
Inn.No, I haven’t! I’m just as susceptible to worry as you.
Corn.You mean to say you won’t do it?
Inn.No! I can’t!
Corn.You can’t?
Inn.(emphatically) No! Damn! there! I don’t see why I should. (crossesR.and round table)
Corn.Oh, well, then, Peter will have to do it. I’ll get Peter to talk to her. (goesL.)
Inn.(upR.) That’s the best way. He won’t mind.
EnterDunnfrom LibraryL. D.with scent bottle, pale and careworn, crosses and sits on chairL.of table.
Corn.I’d rather you did it; because I shall have to disclose the whole escapade to Peter. And he hasn’t a particularly good opinion of me as it is.
Inn.I doubt if he could have a worse, so it can’t make much difference.
Corn.(seeingDunn) Good morning, Peter—(Dunnscowls at him) Seen you before though, haven’t I? (toInnings) Peter looks jolly, doesn’t he? Innings, you’ll find Hattie in the Conservatory looking for my cigar case, which I have in my pocket.
Inn.All right! I’ll see if we can’t resume that conversation where you broke in on it; (sings) “And whisper foolish nothings, no one else may hear, That is love! That is——” (voice cracks)
InningsexitsC.andR.
Corn.(after slight pause—looks atDunn) Peter, old man! You don’t look well.
Dunn.I don’t feel well; I’ve been walking my room the whole of the night. I haven’t slept a wink.
Corn.Neither have I; but sleeplessness doesn’t break me up nearly so quickly as worry.I cannot stand worry; and that is why I want to speak with you about this new Governess.
Dunn.(startled) What! Why should there be any worry about the new Governess? (aside) Can he suspect——
Corn.It’s no use trying to disguise it, Peter, she is not what she seems.
Dunn.(amazed and frightened) Not what she——
Corn.She hasn’t come here to teach the children at all.
Dunn.(rising) Great goodness, how did he learn this! (aside)
Corn.It was hard to believe, but a good look at her face settled it; she’s the veryimage——
Dunn.Image! (aside) He knows all. (crossesL.)
Corn.I’m pretty shrewd Peter, and I suspect I’ve summed up the whole business.
Dunn.(aside) Oh! He’s not sure, then I won’t betray myself. I’ll brazen it out. (sits on couch)
Corn.(aside, downR. C.) If I could only induce him to get rid of her, without disclosing anything.
Dunn.(on sofa) I’ve told you before Corney, how wrong it is to jump to these conclusions; you may misjudge this woman and her purpose and object entirely, and, right or wrong, Corney,I’mblameless.
Corn.(aside) Ah! Peter knows she’s unpopular with the women and that the blame of engaging her will fall upon him. (fetching chair from table) That’s all very well with me, Peter! (puts chair near couch and sits astride it, facing audience.)
Dunn.(aside) Withhim! That means, at the worst I can buy him off!
Corn.But Helen and Carrie are prejudiced, and naturally perhaps. You can’t deny there is somethinguncannyabout the woman.
Dunn.Thereisperhaps—astonylook about the eyes; but that will wear off.
Corn.It’s hard to believe that she is of the sameclayas ourselves.
Dunn.Clay! She was never clay.
Corn.She might have beencast in a different mould.
Dunn.She’s not a casting at all—so——
Corn.Of course there’s no denying she’s beautiful. But I’ve a prejudice againstthese classic expressionless women; these cold blocks of marble.
Dunn.(as if paralyzed) Marble—you do know then——
Corn.(looks atDunnquickly) I know whatyouought to have known the moment you saw her, that she was not the sort of thing, that—that—it wouldn’t do to have her about the house.
Dunn.I did know it, Corney, and I have tried. Ihavetried to get her away, but I can’t.
Corn.Obdurate and unforgiving, eh? As I suspected; she has aheart of stone.
Dunn.Well, shehad; of course that was changed with the other alterations.
Corn.(rises and puts chair back by table) What? She relents? She wavers in her purpose? Then let her go. The matter’s simple enough: pack her off!
Dunn.(rises) But I can’t! It’s all so brutal.
Corn.(with foot on stool) Oh, she’s told you the whole story, eh? but remember my version will put an entirely different light on it. And yet out of cold-blooded vindictiveness she comes here to ruin me with Bea and Sillocks.
Dunn.(putting foot on stool; looks puzzled atCorney—pause) Have you met her before? Have you got that former existence theory?
Corn.If you call a year ago a former existence! (Corneyturns goingR.)
Dunn.A year ago! (stumbles over stool)
Corn.Yes! When Ibroke offwith her.
Dunn.Broke off! (aside) I didn’t notice she had anything missing.
Corn.Broke off my engagement with her sister.
Dunn.(perplexed) Whose sister?
Corn.Mifton’s sister, whom I met at Cambridge. (goesR.)
Dunn.(aside) He’s on the wrong tack; Heavens! What a pitfall I nearly fell into! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Dunngoes upC., laughing heartily.
Corn.(meetingDunnupC.) Don’t laugh! Don’t laugh! I tell you——
Dunn.It’s too bad Corney, to let you indulge in all this unnecessary worry, but your fears are quite groundless. The new Governess, Madeline Mifton, never heard of you till last evening.
Corn.I know better, Peter! She came here in her sister’s interest, to hunt me down.
Dunn.Nothing of the kind.
Corn.I tell you I learnt, on the best of authority, that Madeline Mifton would certainly come here for the purpose of going for me. (crossesL.)
Dunn.(dropping into chairR. E.) Great goodness! I’m forgetting shewillbe here. The new Governess, and what will happen then? What will happen then?
Mary.(enters from LibraryL. U. E.) The Locksmith is in the Library Sir, to know what is to be done.
Dunn.(looking at audience as if for screen) Oh, the lock and staple for the screen; I’ll explain it to him, myself. Tell the Governess I wish to speak to her.
MaryexitsC.andR.up steps.
Corn.(going upC.) No! Never mind, Peter—I’ll tackle her myself.
Dunn.(stopping himC.) What for? when I tell you there’s no occasion.
Corn.Well, I’m not so sure of that; and I’ll satisfy myself. There’s some mystery connected with her. And I’ll find outwhyandhowshe came; and all about her. (crossesR.)
Dunn.No! No! Don’t you meddle or you’ll ruin everything! (aside) He must not see Niobe till I have warned her. I’ll run and see that locksmith and hurry back. You remain quiet and I’ll find out if you have any cause for fear. Don’t interfere, or you’ll spoil everything. Leave her to me. She’s a peculiar woman,but I think I understand her.She’s a woman of the world undoubtedly, but a little after date.Leave her to me. Leave her to me!
ExitDunnto LibraryL. D.
Corn.He seems so particularly anxious I should leave it to him, I don’t think it good enough; I would always rather that somebody else should manage any little unpleasantness for me, but I like to feel sure that they’re not working some little purpose of their own.
EnterNiobeC.andL.as if looking for some one; comesR.
Ah! Here she is—good morning, Miss Mifton!
Nio.(on steps, waving her hands) Hail to you! (comes down) Where is he whom they call master? The lord of this house?
Corn.(aside) Umph! A poetic blank verse kind of character—(aloud) Oh, Peter!
Nio.(fondly) Ah! Petramos!
Goes downL.in front of couch.
Corn.Yes, if you put it that way; he’ll be here in a moment, Miss Mifton. Make yourself at home; take a chair, be seated.
He goes toL.of table; his back to her as if to offer chair.
Nio.Nay, I am easier thus.
Flops on floor with head supported on footstool;Corneyturns and sees her on floor; staggered! he puts up eye glass.
Corn.(aside) She’s a decidedly eccentric creature—I hardly know how to begin with her; (aloud—stooping down) I hope you find no trouble with the children.
Nio.Toloveis not a trouble, and they areso likePetramos.
Corn.(slight pause, he turns away slightly) She seems partial enough to Peter—(aloud—stooping down to her) Ahem! How—how did you come to hear of this place? Was it by accident—quite by chance you came here?
Nio.(looks round) By chance? Ah, yes!
Corn.Ah yes! You had no—(bends down—hurts back—gets chair from table, sitsR., and stoops) You had no purpose beyond theostensible—one—ofoccupying—thesituation—you had—accepted. (speech disjointed and jerky)
Nio.Your speech is meaningless; to me but the empty rattle of a falling can.
Posing face in hands, elbows on stool.
Corn.(after regarding her suspiciously, turns toR.) She’s frank to a degree—(aloud—stooping) Ahem! You did not expect—you had no thought of findingmehere?
Spoken in a conciliatory tone, trying to be agreeable.
Nio.(after regardingCorneydisdainfully—perplexed) I’d rather Petramos should tell me what to say.
Corn.(rises and goes step toR.; aside) Can she have confided the affair to Peter, and is this just simplicity, or only cunning?
Nio.If you like best conversing with yourself, I shall not miss your chatter.
Corn.(quickly recovering himself) I beg your pardon! She isn’t such a fool; (sits again, crosses legs) Excuse me. You find a great change, I suppose?
Nio.Ah yes! All things are changed, even men are not as they were. Why do you hide your legs in those loose sleeves?
Corn.(looks at his trousers, tries to hide his legs—aside) She must have lived among the savages, she’s a Highlander perhaps! I thought you belonged to Cambridge.
Nio.I was born in Athens, but I left it when I married.
Corn.(R. C.) You are married then?
Nio.(beginning to cry) I was! Oh—Amphion! (cries on footstool)
Corn.Oh! I beg your pardon—your husband is dead? (stooping to speak to her)
Nio.More years than I can count. (sobbing)
Corn.Ah! You don’t look your age. She’s trying the idiotic dodge again. (stooping) Ahem! When did you—(gets twinge again with bending, puts away chair and fetches low occasional chair from back of stage, sits close to her and stoops) When did you see your sister last?
Nio.(sits up) At the Feast of Demeter, on the Temple steps.
Corn.Temple steps! Taking the Battersea boat perhaps! How did you leave her?
Nio.In sorrow. She had been early plighted to a younghopliteof Ithaca, named Aulakes.
Corn.Hoplite!A dancing master I suppose. It’s the first I’ve heard of this; she may betray more of Ethel’s secrets! (aloud) And what—(trying to get lower, and sees stool,Niobesitting up, has left room for him, he steps over stool and sits) What became of the young fellow?
Nio.He fought throughout the war and fell in the last battle.
Corn.(aside—surprised) Ethel can’t be the Spring chicken I believed her. (aloud) You were younger than your sister?
Nio.Ah yes!
Corn.Ah yes—I can see a resemblance, but a difference; she might be called handsome—you’re pretty.
Nio.Why not? Mother was as fair asHelen.
Corn.OurHelen! Oh! I don’t think much of her as a beauty.
EnterDunnhurriedly—he sees them, when he reachesC., falls into low chair.
Nio.(rises on one knee as she seesPeter) Ah! Here is Petramos! And I no longer wish to talk with you.
Nioberises and goesL.;Peteraffects indifference.
Corn.(rises) That’s straight, anyway, but what she can see in Peter beats me.
Dunn.(toCorney) You didn’t say anything to her?
Corn.No, no! I’ve left it to you! (goes up, putting back chair)
Nio.(coming towardsDunnC.) He has perplexed and frightened me with questions.
Dunn.(C., turning toCorneyR.) Now I thought——
Corn.(replacing other chair) No, no! Merely ordinary courtesies.
Nio.(very affectionately) I have no fear of him now you are here.
Putting her arms roundDunn’sneck as he turns;Corney, coming forward, sees them and affects to be greatly shocked, hiding face with newspaper.
Dunn.(perplexed and affecting light indifference, trying to get away from her) Of course not, there is nothing to be afraid of. (toCorney) She’s so timid, you see Corney, she—she—seems to think everyone is against her.
Niobelooks up, their faces close together.
Corn.(downC.) She doesn’t seem to mindyou, Peter!
Dunn.No, she’s quite taken to me, and if thereisanything, Corney, I’ll find out for you. She’ll tell me!
AsDunnturns fromNiobegoing towardsCorney, she keeps him back with her arms still round his neck. He breaks away and she goesL.—DunnR.
Corn.Well, I’ll leave her to you—(goes upL. C.) I confess I don’t know what to make of her; she doesn’t seem the kind of person to undertake such a mission; a resuscitated mummy couldn’t appear more ignorant of the world’s ways. (aloud) Peter! Peter! Hail to you!
Corneyexits centre toR.
Nio.(following him up, looks offL., then turns toDunn) Have you resolved truth shall be told, and all disclosed, Petramos?
Dunn.Truth! no! I took a feeler at that; it isn’t to be thought of.
Nio.(goingR. C.towardsDunn) As my lord says—it would be well, then, to hire some slave to murder him that’s gone! (mysteriously pointing offL.)
Dunn.Murder Corney! What for?
Nio.He will betray.
Dunn.He can’t—he doesn’t know!
Nio.But he suspects!
Dunn.Suspects the truth! Ridiculous! There may be, well there are—suspicions—but they’ll never take that form; and the only difficulty is to keep up something that’s possible of belief till we can provide for you, or hear from your friends. (R.of table)
Nio.(on stepsC.) Alas! have I in all the world a friend?
Dunn.(L. H.) I suppose not! We might go round electrifying all the Art museums; on the off chance; there may be friends of yours in Greece, if you couldonly go back to Greece, and burrow for them. (sitsR.)
Nio.(coming back of table) Zeus! How desolate I am—(toDunn) Your only thought is to be rid of me. (weeps on table)
Dunn.(R.of table) She’s at it again! No, I don’t wish to be rid of you; if I could only see some way to manage it—I should begladfor you to remain.
Nio.(raising her head) Could I not stay then, as your wife?
Dunn.Umph! If I wasn’t already suited. I’ve told you I have a wife?
Nio.But one! The law of Thebes allowstwowives.
Dunn.But the law of England doesn’t; and I should consider it a dangerous experiment ifit did; besides there are other interests in the concern. My wife would be sure to object; and her sister would howl with indignation. (crossesL., up stage in fear of interruption.)
Nio.The sour face! (R. C.) We could invoke the gods to strikeher dumb.
Dunn.The gods don’t amount to a row of pins, or I should have put ’em on to Helen long ago! (Dunnsits on footstoolC.) You’re the Governess, that’s what they’ve been told and that’s what we have to keep up; till we can make other arrangements.
Nio.Say clearly then, what is a Governess?
Dunn.Oh! a Governess; a Governess, is one who governs, according to the orders of those who govern her; you must try to keep up an appearance of meekness and servility.
Nio.For what?
Dunn.Because you won’t be allowed to govern unless you do.
Nio.(with dignity) I am a Queen.
Dunn.Yes, but you got lost in the shuffle!
Nio.And my duties?
Dunn.To trot out the children, and pretend to teach, but above all cringe to Helen—say “yes Ma’am”—always—“Yes Ma’am.”
Nio.(proudly) “Yes Ma’am,” only that, “yes Ma’am?”
Dunn.(rising) Yes—but not in that way, mind the tone, humbly; “Yes Ma’am.” (in a nasal tone and with a bob curtsey)
Nio.(after wonderingly regardingDunn, imitatesDunn’smanner) “Yes Ma’am!”
Dunn.That’s better, and don’t callmePetramos, but,Master, “the Master,” and above all, don’t forget to be obsequious to Helen. Agree with the old cat inall things, that’s very important. (Dunngoes upL., watching)
Nio.I shall remember—(goes to windowR., looks out and appears delighted) Ah see! See! The crowd! The populace are out! Why do they hurry so? There is no dignity in all this haste.
Dunn.(sitting on couchL.) They’re not out for dignity, there’s no money in it; we haven’t time for dignity now-a-days.
Nio.(goes back to window) Look! See! What are those strange chariots?
Dunn.Chariots? (crossing to look out) Oh! cabs! Growlers! Growlers! They are calledGrowlers!
Nio.(followingDunntoC.) Growlers! Growlers!! Oh, could they not be changed?
Dunn.I’ll see what can be done in the matter—(Niobegoes back to window) Go up to the nursery now, the children will be getting anxious about you.
Nio.(at windowR.) Look! Look Ixion; the man upon the wheel.
Dunn.Where! Oh, a boy on a bicycle! Do go!
Postman’s knock is heard thrice.
Nio.(coming out again) Why does he do that, is the man a Herald?