Priestley Plays Four

by J. B. Priestley

  It’s cold. I’m not even in that Green Room now, not even in the theatre…outside somewhere…old streets…ghosts…or am I the ghost now?

  Sound of horse and carriage comes nearer, then dies away again. Wind and music rise again.

  No, stop – stop! Where is she? What’s happening to her?

  Light begins to come up on next small set in alcove R., which shows corner of a rather drab sitting-room of the period. It is late at night, and the 1ST ACTRESS, wearing curlpapers and yawning is listening to JENNY rehearse her Viola speeches. We hear JENNY’s voice, speaking first lines before we see her. MARTIN stays centre downstage.

  JENNY: ‘I see you what you are – you are too proud;

  But if you were the Devil, you are fair.

  My lord and master loves you; O, such love

  Could be but recompensed, though you were crown’d

  The nonpareil of beauty!’

  1ST ACTRESS: (Yawningly.) ‘How does he love me?’

  JENNY: ‘With adorations, with fertile tears…’ No, that’s not right, is it?

  1ST ACTRESS: (Indifferent.) Sounds all right to me, dear.

  JENNY: No, it isn’t. I remember now –

  ‘With adorations, with fertile tears,

  With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.’

  (Impatiently, as the other does not follow.) Go on!

  1ST ACTRESS: D’you know what time it is? Nearly two o’clock.

  JENNY: (Half impatient, half apologetic.) What does that matter? No, I’m sorry – Sarah darling – I know you’re tired – but I must go through it again. Now then –

  1ST ACTRESS: ‘Your Lord does know’ – so and so and so ‘might have took his answer long ago.’ (Yawns again.)

  JENNY: ‘If I did love you in my master’s flame,

  With such a suffering, such a deadly love,

  In your denial I would find no sense;

  I would not understand it.’

  1ST ACTRESS: ‘Why, what would you?’

  JENNY: ‘Make me a willow cabin at you gate,

  And call upon my soul within the house –’

  MARTIN: (Quietly.) No, not like that, my dear.

  JENNY: No, that isn’t right.

  ‘Make me a willow cabin at your gate,

  And call upon my soul within the house;

  Write loyal cantons of contemned love,

  And sing them loud even in the dead of night;

  Holla your name to the reverberate hills,

  And make the babbling gossip of the air

  Cry out, Olivia! Oh, you should not rest

  Between the elements of air and earth,

  But you should pity me!’

  1ST ACTRESS: Pity me, you mean. Keeping me up until this time! I don’t know why you should want to bother –

  JENNY: Because I must – I must – there’s so little time –

  MARTIN: (Like a sad echo.) So little time…

  1ST ACTRESS: I suppose you and Julian have been spooning instead of rehearsing –

  JENNY: (Gasping.) Sarah!

  1ST ACTRESS: Oh everybody knows about you two. Talk about babbling gossip of the air –

  JENNY: No, Sarah, don’t – please don’t talk. I’ll go back…

  Lights now begins to fade.

  JENNY: ‘Oh you should not rest

  Between the elements of air and earth,

  But you should pity me.’

  Music has come in and light have been fading. Sound of wind, not too loud. Now light comes up on L. alcove, where deak, etc., have now gone. In the alcove is a small bar set, with cosy corner of counter, bottle and comic fat landlord behind. LUDLOW and a rather seedy JOURNALIST are having drinks. MARTIN can be off stage during this scene.

  JOURNALIST: (Raising glass.) Your health, Mr. Ludlow.

  LUDLOW: Same here. Now, what you want to say is something like this. Um – let me see. ‘Following the phenomenal and unprecedented success of Miss Villiers, and – er –’

  JOURNALIST: (Making easy notes.) … ‘at the special request of many distinguished patrons’

  LUDLOW: Certainly. Put that in. Then – er – ‘Mr. Ludlow announces a Grand Benefit Performance for Miss Villiers on Friday the Ninth, when – er – she will play one of her favourite roles, Viola in Twelfth Night, with Mr. Ludlow himself as Mavolio and Mr. Napier as the Duke. The evening will conclude with a brand new screaming farcical item, Catch ’em Alive-O.

  LANDLORD: Ha, ha!

  LUDLOW: Same again, George.

  LANDLORD: Ha, ha! (Attends to drinks.)

  LUDLOW: ‘By kind permission of Colonel Baffer, etc., the Band of the Fifteenth Dragoons will be in attendance to render selections during the intermissions. Free list entirely suspended…’

  JOURNALIST: (Making notes.) Got that. Nobility and gentry?

  LUDLOW: Certainly. ‘Nobility and gentry have already secured a large number of seats – and – er – the public is advised to make application…’ Y’know, the usual –

  JOURNALIST: Yes, of course. Prices up?

  LUDLOW: Certainly. ‘Owing to the very large demand – and – er – in order that Barton Spa should have an opportunity of paying a generous tribute to the work of this gifted young actress – y’know – pile it on. (Drinks handled.)

  JOURNALIST: Pleasure to do it. Your health, Mr. Ludlow.

  LUDLOW: Same here. Matter of fact – and no nonsense – she’s the best I’ve had for years – works, too.

  A MESSENGER looks in.

  What’s this?

  MESSENGER: For you, Mr. Ludlow.

  He hands over a large envelope and goes.

  LUDLOW: (Opens envelope, and gives a whistle.) Now listen to his. Here’s a bit of news for you – first time it’s happened. (Reads.) ‘Mr. Augustus Ponsonby presents his compliments to Mr. Ludlow, and on behalf of the Barton Spa Shakespearean Society invites Miss Villiers, Mr. and Mrs. Ludlow, Mr. Julian Napier, etc., to a late reception and supper at the White Hart Hotel, after the Grand Benefit Performance for Miss Villiers on Friday, the Ninth.’ (Enthusiastically.) There you are! (Passes it.) Read it yourself. Didn’t know it was coming. Great compliment.

  LANDLORD: Ha, ha!

  LUDLOW: (Drinking up.) Well – there it is – all ready for a nice half-column in your Bartonshire Chronicle. And now – to work – to work – !

  As he is saying this, light fades, and music and perhaps the sound of wind is heard. Light comes up on alcove R., which is now JENNY’s dressing room, with small lighted mirror. She wears voluminous wrap, which conceals dress she wears in next scene. Flowers on dressing table, etc. MARTIN is now standing centre again, watching her.

  NOTE: During this scene, the bar set in alcove L., is replaced by original flat, etc., and desk etc. are restored. As light comes up on this dressing-room set we hear three knocks, which are repeated. These can actually be before set is lit.

  JENNY: Come in!

  Enter JULIAN, carrying some red roses. He is muffled up in dressing gown and scarf, under which he wears his evening clothes for next scene. He offers her the roses, bending amorously over her.

  Julian! Thank you, my darling. I was hoping you would – but thought you’d been too busy to remember – darling!

  JULIAN: You’re never out of my thoughts a moment, Jenny. I love you!

  JENNY: (Gravely.) I love you too.

  He kisses her, but she gently pushing him away.

  No please – darling. Not now. They’ll be calling us in a minute. Wish me luck for my great night!

  JULIAN: I am doing – all the time. And I feel it’ll be my success too. I shan’t be jealous.

  JENNY: (Surprised.) Of course not. I knew that. Darling, there isn’t much time.

  JULIAN: (Quick whisper.) Listen, then. You’re staying in the hotel too tonight, aren’t you? What’s the number of your room?

  JENNY: Forty-two. But –

  JULIAN: No, my darling – please listen. You must let me come to you after all those fools have finished talking
– it’s our only chance to be alone together – and I want you so terribly, my love – I can’t sleep – I can’t think properly – sometimes I feel I’m going mad –

  JENNY: Oh – Julian – I’m sorry –

  JULIAN: No, I’m not blaming you, of course. But tonight – it can be our night – at last. Room Forty-two. I’m along the same landing. Nobody will know.

  JENNY: (Hesitating.) It’s not that, darling. It’s – I don’t know what to say.

  JULIAN: Of course not. I don’t want to press you now. But give me a sign – when we’re with those fools at the hotel – look – if you give me one of these roses I’ve brought you, I’ll know it’s all right. Please, my darling!

  JENNY: (Half-laughing.) You are a baby! All right, then!

  VOICE: (Off L..) Overture and beginners, please! Overture and beginners!

  JENNY: We’re being called. I must hurry.

  JULIAN: Don’t forget. One red rose, and you’ll make me happy.

  He goes out of scene.

  A knock. ‘Miss Villiers – overture and beginners.’

  MARTIN takes a pace forward, as if to speak to her, but the light begins to fade as she hastily completes her make-up. Music. Sound of wind, which merges with sound of distant but considerable applause. MARTIN, who now has the booklet in his hand, had moved near the desk, whose light is up again. MARTIN stares at the booklet.

  MARTIN: (Reading slowly.) ‘Never will those of use who were privileged to be present both at the Theatre Royal and later at the White Hart Hotel that evening forget the occasion. An audience which included nearly all the nobility and gentry of the neighbourhood filled the theatre from pit to ceiling, and every entrance and exit of the brilliant young actress was lustily applauded. A more delightful Viola was never seen, though of that more later. Then afterwards there was the reception by the Shakespearean Society at the White Hart Hotel, where the writer had the honour to make the first speech, in praise of the chief guest of the evening, upon whose radiant charm no shadow of forthcoming early doom was yet cast. ‘Miss Villiers’, said the writer…’

  The soft golden light now comes on PONSONBY, in evening dress, who is standing far upstage, behind a large dining table, covered with a white cloth. The back wall has now gone, and the back of the stage represents a dining room in the White Hart Hotel. As the light spreads, we see others, in evening dress, standing or seated behind the table. There is JENNY, resplendent with her red roses, JULIAN – who is seated several places away – LUDLOW and FANNY, and between them actors representing the members of the Barton Spa Shakespearean Society. There is nothing on the table, as everybodying is holding his or her glass in hand. The light is so contrived that the faces are well lit but the downstage part of the table goes into shadow. There can be lights representing candles on the walls. During speech that follows, MARTIN moves slowly nearer, watching and listening.

  PONSONBY: (In the rather pompous oratorical style.) Miss Villiers – on behalf of the Barton Spa Shakespearean Society, I wish to offer you – and Mr. and Mrs. Ludlow and all members of Mr. Ludlow’s Theatre Royal Company – our most grateful thanks for the pleasure, the delight, the intellectual and spiritual satisfaction you have given us this season, which, illuminated by the lustre of your dazzling performances, has undoubtedly been the most memorable season that Barton Spa has had for many, many years.

  Cries of ‘Hear, hear!’ and some applause. JENNY looks demure, but is clearly aware of his absurdity.

  It is hard for us to believe that genius married to such youth and beauty will be content much longer to hide itself from the – er – the gaze of metropolitan audiences –

  LUDLOW: Now, now – don’t put ideas into her head, Mr. Ponsonby!

  PONSONBY: Of course not, Mr. Ludlow! I merely wished to observe – er –

  MARTIN: (In cool, clear tone.) I wonder how much more we shall have of this long-winded ass.

  PONSONBY: That’s why we of the Shakespearean Society are aware of our good fortune and that is why we have taken this opportunity of offering Miss Villiers our homage and most grateful thanks. And now I call upon Sir Romford Tiverton to propose the Toast.

  Applause. SIR ROMFORD TIVERTON is a fantastic old buck.

  SIR ROMFORD: (Holding up glass.) Mr. Charman – and fwends – it is with vewy gweat pleashah – that I wise to pwopose the toast of our beautiful and talented guest of honah – Miss Villiers – and coupled with the names of our old fwends – Mistah and Missis Ludlow.

  OTHERS: (Holding up glasses.) Miss Villiers!

  They all drink, except JENNY and the LUDLOWS.

  OTHERS: Speech! Speech, Miss Villiers!

  JENNY: (Dismayed.) Oh – must I?

  PONSONBY: Of course you must!

  LUDLOW: Go on, me dear – just something short an’ sweet.

  JENNY: (Rising.) Well – ladies and gentlemen – I can’t make speeches – at least, not public ones…unless of course somebody writes them for me and I learn them off by heart. I’m very gratefull to all of you for helping to make my benefit such a wonderful success, and for entertaining us here. I’ve never been happier in the theatre that I have here at Barton Spa.

  Apearing on the stage – as I’m sure you know – isn’t all fun and glitter and applause. It’s hard and sometimes heart-breaking work. And we’re never as good as we’d hoped to be. The theatre is like life – all sort of – packed up in a little gold box – and like life – it’s often frightening, often terrible – but wonderful. The only thing I can say – except thank you – is that I’m only one of a company – a very good company, too – and that I owe a great deal, more than I can say, both to Mr. and Mrs. Ludlow –

  Some applause.

  And also to our brilliant leading man, Mr. Julian Napier –

  Here, to sound of applause, she tosses a rose across to JULIAN, who catches it and kisses it. The scene is then immediately frozen, every person remaining still, while now JENNY speaks in low, intimate tone, as if to MARTIN without seeing him.

  (To MARTIN.) You see, I had to throw him the rose – poor Julian, he kept looking so downcast, so wistful. They were all making such a fuss of me, and hardly noticing him. I wanted him to be happy, too. You undertand, don’t you?

  MARTIN: Are you talking to me?

  JENNY: (Same tone.) I’m talking to somebody who’s here now, who understands me, but who wasn’t there when it all first happened.

  MARTIN: When it first happened? Then – does it all go on happening?

  JENNY: You can get back to it, if you think hard about it, although it’s never just the same. This time, you’re here.

  MARTIN: (Urgently.) But why should I be here? And why should this supper of ghosts catch my heart?

  JENNY:(With more animation at first.) I know now! If I hadn’t thrown him the rose that night, there would have been no child – and then no link of daughters down the years to you –

  MARTIN: (Urgently.) What daughters down the years? Jenny! Jenny Villiers!

  But the scene is reanimated, and her tone is now as before, when making the speech.

  JENNY: So – ladies and gentlemen of the Shakespearean Society – on behalf of us all at The Theatre Royal – I thank you again. Good my lords, you have seen the players well bestowed. (She curtsies to applause, then sits down.)

  PONSONBY: Mr. Ludlow!

  Applause, as LUDLOW rises ponderously.

  LUDLOW: (Grandiloquently.) My friends – from the bottom of me heart I thank you. You have – to continue the quotation from Hamlet – used us well, not only here, in this rich and festive hour, but also in the playhouse itself – for I see around me tonight many familiar faces, and know that although you are me patrons and I your humble servant, you will allow me to address you as my friends.

  Some applause. MRS. LUDLOW is overcome.

  I have been among you now for many years, both as an actor and as a manager, and now, as I look back from this year eighteen forty-six…

  But now the telephone rings, softly at first
, from the desk, where the light begins to come up. At the same time the light on the banquet scene and LUDLOW’s voice in the speech that follows begins to fade.

  LUDLOW: …a stormy year of much strife at home and troubles abroad, when it might be thought that the Thee-ay-ter would cease to command the attention of a public concerned and worried about the Corn Laws, the Chartists, the Irish Famine, the wars in Mexico and India…

  MARTIN, centre, turns to look bewilderedly at telephone and desk. Telephone bell rings louder and desk light comes up, and banquet scene goes fading. For a moment MARTIN is held between past and present, and then slowly moves towards desk, where light is on full and telephone ringing loudly. Banquet scene has now gone, and if possible original back wall should be restored, though so long as back stage is cleared and dark, this can wait. As MARTIN reaches desk, door R. opens, showing very bright light ouside, and OTLEY looks in.

  OTLEY: Your London call, Mr. Cheveril.

  MARTIN: (Confused.) Yes… I heard the bell…

  OTLEY: Right, then. (Closes door.)

  MARTIN takes up the telephone with an effort.

  MARTIN: (At telephone.) Yes… this is Mr. Cheveril speaking personally… All right… I’ll hang on…

  Holding the telephone, he looks around in bewilderment and puts his hand across his eyes, obviously in confusion, as the music starts up again and the curtain slowly falls.

  End of Act One.

  Act Two

  This Act begins exactly where Act I stopped, so everything is the same. MARTIN, obviously confused, is waiting to speak on the telephone.

  MARTIN: (At telephone, after pause.) Yes? Hello – hello! Yes, it is – I said so before. Oh – Lord! Yes, I’ll hang on.

  OTLEY opens door R. and looks in.

  OTLEY: Coming through, Mr. Cheveril?

  MARTIN: Now they’ve found me, they’ve just lost the other people.

  OTLEY: My girl can wait for it –

  MARTIN: No thanks. I’d better hang on myself now.

  He puts a hand to his head and then across his eyes again, like an exhausted and bewildered man. OTLEY notices this.

  OTLEY: I don’t want to bother you, Mr. Cheveril – but are you sure you’re all right?

  MARTIN: No, I’m not sure.