M’COMAS [gravely] I do not frequent meetings now.
MRS CLANDON. Finch: I see what has happened. You have become respectable.
M’COMAS. Havent you?
MRS CLANDON. Not a bit.
M’COMAS. YOU hold to our old opinions still?
MRS CLANDON. As firmly as ever.
M’COMAS. Bless me! And you are still ready to make speeches in public, in spite of your sex [Mrs Clandon nods] ; to insist on a married woman’s right to her own separate property [she nods again] ; to champion Darwin’s view of the origin of species and John Stuart Mill’s Essay on Liberty [nod] ; to read Huxley, Tyndall, and George Eliot [three nods] ; and to demand University degrees, the opening of the professions, and the parliamentary franchise for women as well as men.
MRS CLANDON [resolutely] Yes: I have not gone back one inch; and I have educated Gloria to take up my work when I must leave it. That is what has brought me back to England. I felt I had no right to bury her alive in Madeira: my St Helena, Finch. I suppose she will be howled at as I was; but she is prepared for that.
M’COMAS. Howled at! My dear good lady: there is nothing in any of those views nowadays to prevent her marrying an archbishop. You reproached me just now for having become respectable. You were wrong; I hold to our old opinions as strongly as ever. I dont go to church; and I dont pretend I do. I call myself what I am: a Philosophic Radical standing for liberty and the rights of the individual, as I learnt to do from my master Herbert Spencer. Am I howled at? No: I’m indulged as an old fogey. I’m out of everything, because Iverefused to bow the knee to Socialism.
MRS CLANDON [shocked] Socialism!
M’COMAS. Yes: Socialism. Thats what Miss Gloria will be up to her ears in before the end of the month if you let her loose here.
MRS CLANDON [emphatically] But I can prove to her that Socialism is a fallacy.
M’COMAS [touchingly] It is by proving that, Mrs Clandon, that I have lost all my young disciples. Be careful what you do: let her go her own way. [With some bitterness] We’re old fashioned: the world thinks it has left us behind. There is only one place in all England where your opinions would still pass as advanced.
MRS CLANDON [scornfully unconvinced] The Church, perhaps?
M’COMAS. No: the theatre. And now to business! Why have you made me come down here?
MRS CLANDON. Well, partly because I wanted to see you –
M’COMAS [with good-humored irony] Thanks.
MRS CLANDON. – and partly because I want you to explain everything to the children. They know nothing: and now that we have come back to England it is impossible to leave them in ignorance any longer. [Agitated] Finch: I cannot bring myself to tell them. I –
She is interrupted by the twins and Gloria. Dolly comes tearing up the steps, racing Phil, who combines terrific speed with an unhurried propriety of bearing which, however, costs him the race, as Dolly reaches her mother first and almost upsets the garden seat by the precipitancy of her embrace.
DOLLY [breathless] It’s all right, mamma. The dentist is coming; and he’s bringing his old man.
MRS CLANDON. Dolly, dear: dont you see Mr M’Comas? [M’Comas rises, smiling].
DOLLY [her face falling with the most disparagingly obvious disappointment] This! Where are the flowing locks?
PHILIP [seconding her warmly] Where the beard? the cloak? the poetic exterior?
DOLLY. Oh, Mr M’Comas, youve gone and spoiled yourself. Why didnt you wait til we’d seen you?
M’COMAS [taken aback, but rallying his humor to meet the emergency] Because eighteen years is too long for a solicitor to go without having his hair cut.
GLORIA [at the other side of M’Comas] How do you do, Mr M’Comas? [He turns; and she takes his hand and presses it, with a frank straight look into his eyes]. We are glad to meet you at last.
M’COMAS. Miss Gloria, I presume? [Gloria smiles assent; releases his hand after a final pressure; and retires behind the garden seat, leaning over the back beside Mrs Clandon]. And this young gentleman?
PHILIP. I was christened in a comparatively prosaic mood. My name is –
DOLLY [completing his sentence for him declamatorily] ‘ Norval. On the Grampian hills’ –
PHILIP [declaiming gravely] ‘ My father feeds his flock, a frugal swain’ –
MRS CLANDON [remonstrating] Dear, dear children: dont be silly. Everything is so new to them here, Finch, that they are in the wildest spirits. They think every Englishman they meet is a joke.
DOLLY. Well, so he is: it’s not our fault.
PHILIP. My knowledge of human nature is fairly extensive, Mr M’Comas; but I find it impossible to take the inhabitants of this island seriously.
M’COMAS. I presume, sir, you are Master Philip [offering his hand].
PHILIP [taking M’Comas’s hand and looking solemnly at him] I was Master Philip: was so for many years; just as you were once Master Finch. [He gives the hand a single shake and drops it; then turns away, exclaiming meditatively] How strange it is to look back on our boyhood!
DOLLY [to Mrs Clandon] Has Finch had a drink?
MRS CLANDON [remonstrating] Dearest: Mr M’Comas will lunch with us.
DOLLY. Have you ordered for seven? Dont forget the old gentleman.
MRS CLANDON. I have not forgotten him, dear. What is his name?
DOLLY. Chalkstones. He’ll be here at half past one. [To M’Comas] Are we like what you expected?
MRS CLANDON [earnestly, even a little peremptorily] Dolly: Mr M’Comas has something more serious than that to tell you. Children: I have asked my old friend to answer the question you asked this morning. He is your father’s friend as well as mine; and he will tell you the story of my married life more fairly than I could. Gloria: are you satisfied?
GLORIA [gravely attentive] Mr M’Comas is very kind.
M’COMAS [nervously] Not at all, my dear young lady: not at all. At the same time, this is rather sudden. I was hardly prepared – er –
DOLLY [suspiciously] Oh, we dont want anything prepared.
PHILIP [exhorting him] Tell us the truth.
DOLLY [emphatically] Bald headed.
M’COMAS [nettled] I hope you intend to take what I have to say seriously.
PHILIP [with profound gravity] I hope it will deserve it, Mr M’Comas. My knowledge of human nature teaches me not to expect too much.
MRS CLANDON [remonstrating] Phil –
PHILIP. Yes, mother: all right. I beg your pardon, Mr M’Comas: dont mind us.
DOLLY [in conciliation] We mean well.
PHILIP. Shut up, both.
Dolly holds her lips. M’Comas takes a chair from the luncheon table; places it between the little table and the garden seat, with Dolly on his right and Phil on his left; and settles himself in it with the air of a man about to begin a long communication. The Clandons watch him expectantly.
M’COMAS. Ahem! Your father –
DOLLY. How old is he?
PHILIP. Sh!
MRS CLANDON [softly] Dear Dolly: dont let us interrupt Mr M’Comas.
M’COMAS [emphatically] Thank you, Mrs Clandon. Thank you. [To Dolly] You father is fifty-seven.
DOLLY [with a bound, startled and excited] Fifty-seven!! Where does he live?
MRS CLANDON [remonstrating] Dolly! Dolly!
M’COMAS [stopping her] Let me answer that, Mrs Clandon. The answer will surprise you considerably. He lives in this town.
Mrs Clandon rises, intensely angry, but sits down again, speechless: Gloria watching her perplexedly.
DOLLY [with conviction] I knew it. Phil: Chalkstones is our father!
M’COMAS. Chalkstones!
DOLLY. Oh, Crampstones, or whatever it is. He said I was like his mother. I knew he must mean his daughter.
PHILIP [very seriously] Mr M’Comas: I desire to consider your feelings in every possible way; but I warn you that if you stretch the long arm of coincidence to the length of telling me that Mr Crampton of this town is my father, I shall decl
ine to entertain the information for a moment.
M’COMAS. And pray why?
PHILIP. Because I have seen the gentleman; and he is entirely unfit to be my father, or Dolly’s father, or Gloria’s father, or my mother’s husband.
M’COMAS. Oh, indeed! Well, sir, let me tell you that whether you like it or not, he is your father, and your sisters’ father, and Mrs Clandon’s husband. Now! What have you to say to that?
DOLLY [whimpering] You neednt be so cross. Crampton isnt your father.
PHILIP. Mr M’Comas: your conduct is heartless. Here you find a family enjoying the unspeakable peace and freedom of being orphans. We have never seen the face of a relative: never known a claim except the claim of freely chosen friendship. And now you wish to thrust into the most intimate relationship with us a man whom we dont know –
DOLLY [vehemently] An awful old man [Reproachfully] And you began as if you had quite a nice father for us!
M’COMAS [angrily] How do you know that he is not nice? And what right have you to choose your own father? [Raising his voice] Let me tell you, Miss Clandon, that you are too young to –
DOLLY [interrupting him suddenly and eagerly] Stop: I forgot! Has he any money?
M’COMAS. He has a great deal of money.
DOLLY [delighted] Oh, what did I always say, Phil?
PHILIP. Dolly: we have perhaps been condemning the old man too hastily. Proceed, Mr M’Comas.
M’COMAS. I shall not proceed, sir. I am too hurt, too shocked, to proceed.
MRS CLANDON [struggling with her temper] Finch: do you realize what is happening? Do you understand that my children have invited that man to lunch, and that he will be here in a few moments?
M’COMAS [completely upset] What! Do you mean? am I to understand? is it –
PHILIP [impressively] Steady, Finch. Think it out slowly and carefully. He’s coming: coming to lunch.
GLORIA. Which of us is to tell him the truth? Have you thought of that?
MRS CLANDON. Finch: you must tell him.
DOLLY. Oh, Finch is no good at telling things. Look at the mess he has made of telling us.
M’COMAS. I have not been allowed to speak. I protest against this.
DOLLY [taking his arm coaxingly] Dear Finch: dont be cross.
MRS CLANDON. Gloria: let us go in. He may arrive at any moment.
GLORIA [proudly] Do not stir, mother. I shall not stir. We must not run away.
MRS CLANDON. My dear: we cannot sit down to lunch just as we are. We shall come back again. We must have no bravado. [Gloria winces, and goes into the hotel without a word]. Come, Dolly. [As she goes to the hotel door, the waiter comes out with a tray of plates, etc. for two additional covers].
WAITER. Gentlemen come yet, maam?
MRS CLANDON. Two more to come still, thank you. They will be here immediately. [She goes into the hotel].
The waiter takes his tray to the service table.
PHILIP. I have an idea. Mr M’Comas: this communication should be made, should it not, by a man of infinite tact?
M’COMAS. It will require tact, certainly.
PHILIP. Good! Dolly: whose tact were you noticing only this morning?
DOLLY [seizing the idea with rapture] Oh yes, I declare!
PHILIP. The very man! [Calling] William!
WAITER. Coming, sir.
M’COMAS [horrified] The waiter! Stop! stop! I will not permit this. I –
WAITER [presenting himself between Phil and M’Comas] Yes, sir. M’Comas’s complexion fades into stone grey: all movement and expression desert his eyes. He sits down stupefied.
PHILIP. William: you remember my request to you to regard me as your son?
WAITER [with respectful indulgence] Yes, sir. Anything you please, sir.
PHILIP. William: at the very outset of your career as my father, a rival has appeared on the scene.
WAITER. Your real father, sir? Well, that was to be expected, sooner or later, sir, wasnt it? [Turning with a happy smile to M’Comas] Is it you, sir?
M’COMAS [renerved by indignation] Certainly not. My children know how to behave themselves.
PHILIP. No, William: this gentleman was very nearly my father: he wooed my mother, but wooed her in vain.
M’COMAS [outraged] Well, of all the –
PHILIP. Sh! Consequently, he is only our solicitor. Do you know one Crampton, of this town?
WAITER. Cock-eyed Crampton, sir, of the Crooked Billet, is it?
PHILIP. I dont know. Finch: does he keep a public house?
M’COMAS [rising, scandalized] No, no, no. Your father, sir, is a well known yacht builder, an eminent man here.
WAITER [impressed] Oh! Beg pardon, sir, I’m sure. A son of Mr Crampton’s! Dear me!
PHILIP. Mr Crampton is coming to lunch with us.
WAITER [puzzled] Yes, sir. [Diplomatically] Dont usually lunch with his family, perhaps, sir?
PHILIP [impressively] William: he does not know that we are his family. He has not seen us for eighteen years. He wont know us. [To emphasize the communication, Phil seats himself on the iron table with a spring, and looks at the waiter with his lips compressed and his legs swinging].
DOLLY. We want you to break the news to him, William.
WAITER. But I should think he’d guess when he sees your mother, miss.
Phil’s legs become motionless. He contemplates the waiter raptly.
DOLLY [dazzled] I never thought of that.
PHILIP. Nor I. [Coming off the table and turning reproachfully on M’Comas] Nor you!
DOLLY. And you a solicitor!
PHILIP. Finch: your professional incompetence is appalling. William: your sagacity puts us all to shame.
DOLLY. You really are like Shakespear, William.
WAITER. Not at all, sir. Dont mention it, miss. Most happy, I’m sure, sir. [He goes back modestly to the luncheon table and lays the two additional covers, one at the end next the steps, and the other so as to make a third on the side furthest from the balustrade].
PHILIP [abruptly seizing M’Comas’s arm and leading him towards the hotel] Finch: come and wash your hands.
M’COMAS. I am thoroughly vexed and hurt, Mr Clandon –
PHILIP [interrupting him] You will get used to us. Come, Dolly. [M’Comas shakes him off and marches into the hotel. Phil follows with unruffled composure].
DOLLY [turning for a moment on the steps as she follows them] Keep your wits about you, William. There will be fireworks.
WAITER. Right miss. You may depend on me, miss. [She goes into the hotel].
Valentine comes lightly up the steps from the beach, followed doggedly by Crampton. Valentine carries a walking stick. Crampton, either because he is old and chilly, or with some idea of extenuating the unfashionableness of his reefer jacket, wears a light overcoat. He stops at the chair left by M’Comas in the middle of the terrace, and steadies himself for a moment by placing his hand on the back of it.
CRAMPTON. Those steps make me giddy. [He passes his hand over his forehead]. I have not got over that infernal gas yet.
He goes to the iron chair, so that he can lean his elbows on the little table to prop his head as he sits. He soon recovers, and begins to unbutton his overcoat. Meanwhile Valentine interviews the waiter.
VALENTINE. Waiter!
WAITER [coming forward between them] Yes, sir.
VALENTINE. Mrs Lanfrey Clandon.
WAITER [with a sweet smile of welcome] Yes, sir. We’re expecting you, sir. That is your table, sir. Mrs Clandon will be down presently, sir. The young lady and gentleman were just taking about your friend, sir.
VALENTINE. Indeed!
WAITER [smoothly melodious] Yes, sir. Great flow of spirits, sir. A vein of pleasantry, as you might say, sir. [Quickly, to Crampton, who has risen to get the overcoat off] Beg pardon, sir; but if youll allow me [helping him to get the overcoat off, and taking it from him]. Thank you, sir. [Crampton sits down again; and the waiter resumes the broken melody]. The young gentleman’s
latest is that youre his father, sir.
CRAMPTON. What!
WAITER. Only his joke, sir, his favorite joke. Yesterday, I was to be his father. Today, as soon as he knew you were coming, sir, he tried to put it up on me that you were his father; his long lost father! Not seen you for eighteen years, he said.
CRAMPTON [startled] Eighteen years!
WAITER. Yes, sir. [With gentle archness] But I was up to his tricks, sir. I saw the idea coming into his head as he stood there, thinking what new joke he’d have with me. Yes, sir: thats the sort he is: very pleasant, ve – ry offhand and affable indeed, sir. [Again changing his tempo to say to Valentine, who is putting his stick down against the corner of the garden seat] If youll allow me, sir? [He takes Valentine’s stick]. Thank you, sir. [Valentine strolls up to the luncheon table and looks at the menu. The waiter turns to Crampton and continues his lay]. Even the solicitor took up the joke, although he was in a manner of speaking in my confidence about the young gentleman, sir. Yes, sir, I assure you, sir. You would never imagine what respectable professional gentlemen from London will do on an outing, when the sea air takes them, sir.
CRAMPTON. Oh, theres a solicitor with them, is there?
WAITER. The family solicitor, sir: yes, sir. Name of M’Comas, sir. [He goes towards the hotel entrance with the coat and stick, happily unconscious of the bomblike effect the name has produced on Crampton].
CRAMPTON [rising in angry alarm] M’Comas! [Calling to Valentine] Valentine! [Again, fiercely] Valentine!! [Valentine turns]. This is a plant, a conspiracy. This is my family! my children! my infernal wife.
VALENTINE [coolly] Oh indeed! Interesting meeting! [He resumes his study of the menu].
CRAMPTON. Meeting! Not for me. Let me out of this. [Calling across to the waiter] Give me that coat.
WAITER. Yes, sir. [He comes back; puts Valentine’s stick carefully down against the luncheon table; and delicately shakes the coat out and holds it for Crampton to put on]. I seem to have done the young gentleman an injustice, sir, havnt I, sir?
CRAMPTON. Rrrh! [He stops on the point of putting his arms into the sleeves, and turns on Valentine with sudden suspicion]. Valentine: you are in this. You made this plot. You –
Plays Pleasant Page 26
