Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated)

by William Somerset Maugham

  Porteous. [With a grunt.] Ugh!

  C.-C. [Going up to him cordially.] And how are you, my dear Hughie?

  Porteous. Damned rheumatic if you want to know. Filthy climate you have in this country.

  C.-C. Aren’t you going to shake hands with me, Hughie?

  Porteous. I have no objection to shaking hands with you.

  C.-C. You’ve aged, my poor Hughie.

  Porteous. Some one was asking me how old you were the other day.

  C.-C. Were they surprised when you told them?

  Porteous. Surprised! They wondered you weren’t dead.

  [The Butler comes in.

  Butler. Did you ring, sir?

  Arnold. No. Oh, yes, I did. It doesn’t matter now.

  C.-C. [As the Butler is going.] One moment. My dear Elizabeth, I’ve come to throw myself on your mercy. My servants are busy with their own affairs. There’s not a thing for me to eat in my cottage.

  Elizabeth. Oh, but we shall be delighted if you’ll lunch with us.

  C.-C. It either means that or my immediate death from starvation. You don’t mind, Arnold?

  Arnold. My dear father!

  Elizabeth. [To the Butler.] Mr. Cheney will lunch here.

  Butler. Very good, ma’am.

  C.-C. [To Lady Kitty.] And what do you think of Arnold?

  Lady Kitty. I adore him.

  C.-C. He’s grown, hasn’t he? But then you’d expect him to do that in thirty years.

  Arnold. For God’s sake let’s go in to lunch, Elizabeth!

  END OF THE FIRST ACT

  THE SECOND ACT

  The Scene is the same as in the preceding Act.

  It is afternoon. When the curtain rises Porteous and Lady Kitty, Anna and Teddie are playing bridge. Elizabeth and Champion-Cheney are watching. Porteous and Lady Kitty are partners.

  C.-C. When will Arnold be back, Elizabeth?

  Elizabeth. Soon, I think.

  C.-C. Is he addressing a meeting?

  Elizabeth. No, it’s only a conference with his agent and one or two constituents.

  Porteous. [Irritably.] How anyone can be expected to play bridge when people are shouting at the top of their voices all round them, I for one cannot understand.

  Elizabeth. [Smiling.] I’m so sorry.

  Anna. I can see your hand, Lord Porteous.

  Porteous. It may help you.

  Lady Kitty. I’ve told you over and over again to hold your cards up. It ruins one’s game when one can’t help seeing one’s opponent’s hand.

  Porteous. One isn’t obliged to look.

  Lady Kitty. What was Arnold’s majority at the last election?

  Elizabeth. Seven hundred and something.

  C.-C. He’ll have to fight for it if he wants to keep his seat next time.

  Porteous. Are we playing bridge, or talking politics?

  Lady Kitty. I never find that conversation interferes with my game.

  Porteous. You certainly play no worse when you talk than when you hold your tongue.

  Lady Kitty. I think that’s a very offensive thing to say, Hughie. Just because I don’t play the same game as you do you think I can’t play.

  Porteous. I’m glad you acknowledge it’s not the same game as I play. But why in God’s name do you call it bridge?

  C.-C. I agree with Kitty. I hate people who play bridge as though they were at a funeral and knew their feet were getting wet.

  Porteous. Of course you take Kitty’s part.

  Lady Kitty. That’s the least he can do.

  C.-C. I have a naturally cheerful disposition.

  Porteous. You’ve never had anything to sour it.

  Lady Kitty. I don’t know what you mean by that, Hughie.

  Porteous. [Trying to contain himself.] Must you trump my ace?

  Lady Kitty. [Innocently.] Oh, was that your ace, darling?

  Porteous. [Furiously.] Yes, it was my ace.

  Lady Kitty. Oh, well, it was the only trump I had. I shouldn’t have made it anyway.

  Porteous. You needn’t have told them that. Now she knows exactly what I’ve got.

  Lady Kitty. She knew before.

  Porteous. How could she know?

  Lady Kitty. She said she’d seen your hand.

  Anna. Oh, I didn’t. I said I could see it.

  Lady Kitty. Well, I naturally supposed that if she could see it she did.

  Porteous. Really, Kitty, you have the most extraordinary ideas.

  C.-C. Not at all. If anyone is such a fool as to show me his hand, of course I look at it.

  Porteous. [Fuming.] If you study the etiquette of bridge, you’ll discover that onlookers are expected not to interfere with the game.

  C.-C. My dear Hughie, this is a matter of ethics, not of bridge.

  Anna. Anyhow, I get the game. And rubber.

  Teddie. I claim a revoke.

  Porteous. Who revoked?

  Teddie. You did.

  Porteous. Nonsense. I’ve never revoked in my life.

  Teddie. I’ll show you. [He turns over the tricks to show the faces of the cards.] You threw away a club on the third heart trick and you had another heart.

  Porteous. I never had more than two hearts.

  Teddie. Oh, yes, you had. Look here. That’s the card you played on the last trick but one.

  Lady Kitty. [Delighted to catch him out.] There’s no doubt about it, Hughie. You revoked.

  Porteous. I tell you I did not revoke. I never revoke.

  C.-C. You did, Hughie. I wondered what on earth you were doing.

  Porteous. I don’t know how anyone can be expected not to revoke when there’s this confounded chatter going on all the time.

  Teddie. Well, that’s another hundred to us.

  Porteous. [To Champion-Cheney.] I wish you wouldn’t breathe down my neck. I never can play bridge when there’s somebody breathing down my neck.

  [The party have risen from the bridge-table, and they scatter about the room.

  Anna. Well, I’m going to take a book and lie down in the hammock till it’s time to dress.

  Teddie. [Who has been adding up.] I’ll put it down in the book, shall I?

  Porteous. [Who has not moved, setting out the cards for a patience.] Yes, yes, put it down. I never revoke.

  [Anna goes out.

  Lady Kitty. Would you like to come for a little stroll, Hughie?

  Porteous. What for?

  Lady Kitty. Exercise.

  Porteous. I hate exercise.

  C.-C. [Looking at the patience.] The seven goes on the eight.

  [Porteous takes no notice.

  Lady Kitty. The seven goes on the eight, Hughie.

  Porteous. I don’t choose to put the seven on the eight.

  C.-C. That knave goes on the queen.

  Porteous. I’m not blind, thank you.

  Lady Kitty. The three goes on the four.

  C.-C. All these go over.

  Porteous. [Furiously.] Am I playing this patience, or are you playing it?

  Lady Kitty. But you’re missing everything.

  Porteous. That’s my business.

  C.-C. It’s no good losing your temper over it, Hughie.

  Porteous. Go away, both of you. You irritate me.

  Lady Kitty. We were only trying to help you, Hughie.

  Porteous. I don’t want to be helped. I want to do it by myself.

  Lady Kitty. I think your manners are perfectly deplorable, Hughie.

  Porteous. It’s simply maddening when you’re playing patience and people won’t leave you alone.

  C.-C. We won’t say another word.

  Porteous. That three goes. I believe it’s coming out. If I’d been such a fool as to put that seven up I shouldn’t have been able to bring these down.

  [He puts down several cards while they watch him silently.

  Lady Kitty and C.-C. [Together.] The four goes on the five.

  Porteous. [Throwing down the cards violently.] Damn you! why don’t you leave me alone? It’s int
olerable.

  C.-C. It was coming out, my dear fellow.

  Porteous. I know it was coming out. Confound you!

  Lady Kitty. How petty you are, Hughie!

  Porteous. Petty, be damned! I’ve told you over and over again that I will not be interfered with when I’m playing patience.

  Lady Kitty. Don’t talk to me like that, Hughie.

  Porteous. I shall talk to you as I please.

  Lady Kitty. [Beginning to cry.] Oh, you brute! You brute! [She flings out of the room.]

  Porteous. Oh, damn! now she’s going to cry.

  [He shambles out into the garden. Champion-Cheney, Elizabeth and Teddie are left alone. There is a moment’s pause. Champion-Cheney looks from Teddie to Elizabeth, with an ironical smile.

  C.-C. Upon my soul, they might be married. They frip so much.

  Elizabeth. [Frigidly.] It’s been nice of you to come here so often since they arrived. It’s helped to make things easy.

  C.-C. Irony? It’s a rhetorical form not much favoured in this blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

  Elizabeth. What exactly are you getting at?

  C.-C. How slangy the young women of the present day are! I suppose the fact that Arnold is a purist leads you to the contrary extravagance.

  Elizabeth. Anyhow you know what I mean.

  C.-C. [With a smile.] I have a dim, groping suspicion.

  Elizabeth. You promised to keep away. Why did you come back the moment they arrived?

  C.-C. Curiosity, my dear child. A surely pardonable curiosity.

  Elizabeth. And since then you’ve been here all the time. You don’t generally favour us with so much of your company when you’re down at your cottage.

  C.-C. I’ve been excessively amused.

  Elizabeth. It has struck me that whenever they started fripping you took a malicious pleasure in goading them on.

  C.-C. I don’t think there’s much love lost between them now, do you?

  [Teddie is making as though to leave the room.

  Elizabeth. Don’t go, Teddie.

  C.-C. No, please don’t. I’m only staying a minute. We were talking about Lady Kitty just before she arrived. [To Elizabeth.] Do you remember? The pale, frail lady in black satin and old lace.

  Elizabeth. [With a chuckle.] You are a devil, you know.

  C.-C. Ah, well, he’s always had the reputation of being a humorist and a gentleman.

  Elizabeth. Did you expect her to be like that, poor dear?

  C.-C. My dear child, I hadn’t the vaguest idea. You were asking me the other day what she was like when she ran away. I didn’t tell you half. She was so gay and so natural. Who would have thought that animation would turn into such frivolity, and that charming impulsiveness lead to such a ridiculous affectation?

  Elizabeth. It rather sets my nerves on edge to hear the way you talk of her.

  C.-C. It’s the truth that sets your nerves on edge, not I.

  Elizabeth. You loved her once. Have you no feeling for her at all?

  C.-C. None. Why should I?

  Elizabeth. She’s the mother of your son.

  C.-C. My dear child, you have a charming nature, as simple, frank, and artless as hers was. Don’t let pure humbug obscure your common sense.

  Elizabeth. We have no right to judge. She’s only been here two days. We know nothing about her.

  C.-C. My dear, her soul is as thickly rouged as her face. She hasn’t an emotion that’s sincere. She’s tinsel. You think I’m a cruel, cynical old man. Why, when I think of what she was, if I didn’t laugh at what she has become I should cry.

  Elizabeth. How do you know she wouldn’t be just the same now if she’d remained your wife? Do you think your influence would have had such a salutary effect on her?

  C.-C. [Good-humouredly.] I like you when you’re bitter and rather insolent.

  Elizabeth. D’you like me enough to answer my question?

  C.-C. She was only twenty-seven when she went away. She might have become anything. She might have become the woman you expected her to be. There are very few of us who are strong enough to make circumstances serve us. We are the creatures of our environment. She’s a silly, worthless woman because she’s led a silly, worthless life.

  Elizabeth. [Disturbed.] You’re horrible to-day.

  C.-C. I don’t say it’s I who could have prevented her from becoming this ridiculous caricature of a pretty woman grown old. But life could. Here she would have had the friends fit to her station, and a decent activity, and worthy interests. Ask her what her life has been all these years among divorced women and kept women and the men who consort with them. There is no more lamentable pursuit than a life of pleasure.

  Elizabeth. At all events she loved and she loved greatly. I have only pity and affection for her.

  C.-C. And if she loved what d’you think she felt when she saw that she had ruined Hughie? Look at him. He was tight last night after dinner and tight the night before.

  Elizabeth. I know.

  C.-C. And she took it as a matter of course. How long do you suppose he’s been getting tight every night? Do you think he was like that thirty years ago? Can you imagine that that was a brilliant young man, whom everyone expected to be Prime Minister? Look at him now. A grumpy sodden old fellow with false teeth.

  Elizabeth. You have false teeth, too.

  C.-C. Yes, but damn it all, they fit. She’s ruined him and she knows she’s ruined him.

  Elizabeth. [Looking at him suspiciously.] Why are you saying all this to me?

  C.-C. Am I hurting your feelings?

  Elizabeth. I think I’ve had enough for the present.

  C.-C. I’ll go and have a look at the gold-fish. I want to see Arnold when he comes in. [Politely.] I’m afraid we’ve been boring Mr. Luton.

  Teddie. Not at all.

  C.-C. When are you going back to the F.M.S.?

  Teddie. In about a month.

  C.-C. I see.

  [He goes out.

  Elizabeth. I wonder what he has at the back of his head.

  Teddie. D’you think he was talking at you?

  Elizabeth. He’s as clever as a bagful of monkeys.

  [There is a moment’s pause. Teddie hesitates a little and when he speaks it is in a different tone. He is grave and somewhat nervous.

  Teddie. It seems very difficult to get a few minutes alone with you. I wonder if you’ve been making it difficult?

  Elizabeth. I wanted to think.

  Teddie. I’ve made up my mind to go away to-morrow.

  Elizabeth. Why?

  Teddie. I want you altogether or not at all.

  Elizabeth. You’re so arbitrary.

  Teddie. You said you — you said you cared for me.

  Elizabeth. I do.

  Teddie. Do you mind if we talk it over now?

  Elizabeth. No.

  Teddie. [Frowning.] It makes me feel rather shy and awkward. I’ve repeated to myself over and over again exactly what I want to say to you, and now all I’d prepared seems rather footling.

  Elizabeth. I’m so afraid I’m going to cry.

  Teddie. I feel it’s all so tremendously serious and I think we ought to keep emotion out of it. You’re rather emotional, aren’t you?

  Elizabeth. [Half smiling and half in tears.] So are you for the matter of that.

  Teddie. That’s why I wanted to have everything I meant to say to you cut and dried. I think it would be awfully unfair if I made love to you and all that sort of thing, and you were carried away. I wrote it all down and thought I’d send it you as a letter.

  Elizabeth. Why didn’t you?

  Teddie. I got the wind up. A letter seems so — so cold. You see, I love you so awfully.

  Elizabeth. For goodness’ sake don’t say that.

  Teddie. You mustn’t cry. Please don’t, or I shall go all to pieces.

  Elizabeth. [Trying to smile.] I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean anything really. It’s only tears running out of my eyes.

  Teddi
e. Our only chance is to be awfully matter-of-fact.

  [He stops for a moment. He finds it quite difficult to control himself. He clears his throat. He frowns with annoyance at himself.

  Elizabeth. What’s the matter?

  Teddie. I’ve got a sort of lump in my throat. It is idiotic. I think I’ll have a cigarette.

  [She watches him in silence while he lights a cigarette.

  You see, I’ve never been in love with anyone before, not really. It’s knocked me endways. I don’t know how I can live without you now. . . . Does that old fool know I’m in love with you?

  Elizabeth. I think so.

  Teddie. When he was talking about Lady Kitty smashing up Lord Porteous’ career I thought there was something at the back of it.

  Elizabeth. I think he was trying to persuade me not to smash up yours.

  Teddie. I’m sure that’s very considerate of him, but I don’t happen to have one to smash. I wish I had. It’s the only time in my life I’ve wished I were a hell of a swell so that I could chuck it all and show you how much more you are to me than anything else in the world.

  Elizabeth. [Affectionately.] You’re a dear old thing, Teddie.

  Teddie. You know, I don’t really know how to make love, but if I did I couldn’t do it now because I just want to be absolutely practical.

  Elizabeth. [Chaffing him.] I’m glad you don’t know how to make love. It would be almost more than I could bear.

  Teddie. You see, I’m not at all romantic and that sort of thing. I’m just a common or garden business man. All this is so dreadfully serious and I think we ought to be sensible.

  Elizabeth. [With a break in her voice.] You owl!

  Teddie. No, Elizabeth, don’t say things like that to me. I want you to consider all the pros and cons, and my heart’s thumping against my chest, and you know I love you, I love you, I love you.

  Elizabeth. [In a sigh of passion.] Oh, my precious!

  Teddie. [Impatiently, but with himself, rather than with Elizabeth.] Don’t be idiotic, Elizabeth. I’m not going to tell you that I can’t live without you and a lot of muck like that. You know that you mean everything in the world to me. [Almost giving it up as a bad job.] Oh, my God!

  Elizabeth. [Her voice faltering.] D’you think there’s anything you can say to me that I don’t know already?

  Teddie. [Desperately.] But I haven’t said a single thing I wanted to. I’m a business man and I want to put it all in a business way, if you understand what I mean.