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Plays : Third Series. Galsworthy John
Читать онлайн.Название Plays : Third Series
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Автор произведения Galsworthy John
Жанр Зарубежная классика
Издательство Public Domain
MRS. MILER. [Re-entering] The cards.
MALISE. Mr. Robert Twisden. Sir Charles and Lady Dedmond. [He looks at CLARE.]
CLARE. [Her face scornful and unmoved] Let them come.
MALISE. [TO MRS. MILER] Show them in!
TWISDEN enters-a clean-shaved, shrewd-looking man, with a fighting underlip, followed by SIR CHARLES and LADY DEDMOND. MRS. MILER goes. There are no greetings.
TWISDEN. Mr. Malise? How do you do, Mrs. Dedmond? Had the pleasure of meeting you at your wedding. [CLARE inclines her head] I am Mr. George Dedmond's solicitor, sir. I wonder if you would be so very kind as to let us have a few words with Mrs. Dedmond alone?
At a nod from CLARE, MALISE passes into the inner room, and shuts the door. A silence.
SIR CHARLES. [Suddenly] What!
LADY DEDMOND. Mr. Twisden, will you–?
TWISDEN. [Uneasy] Mrs. Dedmond I must apologize, but you—you hardly gave us an alternative, did you? [He pauses for an answer, and, not getting one, goes on] Your disappearance has given your husband great anxiety. Really, my dear madam, you must forgive us for this—attempt to get into communication.
CLARE. Why did you spy, HERE?
SIR CHARLES. No, no! Nobody's spied on you. What!
TWISDEN. I'm afraid the answer is that we appear to have been justified. [At the expression on CLARE'S face he goes on hastily] Now, Mrs. Dedmond, I'm a lawyer and I know that appearances are misleading. Don't think I'm unfriendly; I wish you well. [CLARE raises her eyes. Moved by that look, which is exactly as if she had said: "I have no friends," he hurries on] What we want to say to you is this: Don't let this split go on! Don't commit yourself to what you'll bitterly regret. Just tell us what's the matter. I'm sure it can be put straight.
CLARE. I have nothing against my husband—it was quite unreasonable to leave him.
TWISDEN. Come, that's good.
CLARE. Unfortunately, there's something stronger than reason.
TWISDEN. I don't know it, Mrs. Dedmond.
CLARE. No?
TWISDEN. [Disconcerted] Are you—you oughtn't to take a step without advice, in your position.
CLARE. Nor with it?
TWISDEN. [Approaching her] Come, now; isn't there anything you feel you'd like to say—that might help to put matters straight?
CLARE. I don't think so, thank you.
LADY DEDMOND. You must see, Clare, that–
TWISDEN. In your position, Mrs. Dedmond—a beautiful young woman without money. I'm quite blunt. This is a hard world. Should be awfully sorry if anything goes wrong.
CLARE. And if I go back?
TWISDEN. Of two evils, if it be so—choose the least!
CLARE. I am twenty-six; he is thirty-two. We can't reasonably expect to die for fifty years.
LADY DESMOND. That's morbid, Clare.
TWISDEN. What's open to you if you don't go back? Come, what's your position? Neither fish, flesh, nor fowl; fair game for everybody. Believe me, Mrs. Dedmond, for a pretty woman to strike, as it appears you're doing, simply because the spirit of her marriage has taken flight, is madness. You must know that no one pays attention to anything but facts. If now—excuse me—you—you had a lover, [His eyes travel round the room and again rest on her] you would, at all events, have some ground under your feet, some sort of protection, but [He pauses] as you have not—you've none.
CLARE. Except what I make myself.
SIR CHARLES. Good God!
TWISDEN. Yes! Mrs. Dedmond! There's the bedrock difficulty. As you haven't money, you should never have been pretty. You're up against the world, and you'll get no mercy from it. We lawyers see too much of that. I'm putting it brutally, as a man of the world.
CLARE. Thank you. Do you think you quite grasp the alternative?
TWISDEN. [Taken aback] But, my dear young lady, there are two sides to every contract. After all, your husband's fulfilled his.
CLARE. So have I up till now. I shan't ask anything from him— nothing—do you understand?
LADY DEDMOND. But, my dear, you must live.
TWISDEN. Have you ever done any sort of work?
CLARE. Not yet.
TWISDEN. Any conception of the competition nowadays?
CLARE. I can try.
[TWISDEN, looking at her, shrugs his shoulders]
CLARE. [Her composure a little broken by that look] It's real to me—this—you see!
SIR CHARLES. But, my dear girl, what the devil's to become of George?
CLARE. He can do what he likes—it's nothing to me.
TWISDEN. Mrs. Dedmond, I say without hesitation you've no notion of what you're faced with, brought up to a sheltered life as you've been. Do realize that you stand at the parting of the ways, and one leads into the wilderness.
CLARE. Which?
TWISDEN. [Glancing at the door through which MALISE has gone] Of course, if you want to play at wild asses there are plenty who will help you.
SIR CHARLES. By Gad! Yes!
CLARE. I only want to breathe.
TWISDEN. Mrs. Dedmond, go back! You can now. It will be too late soon. There are lots of wolves about. [Again he looks at the door]
CLARE. But not where you think. You say I need advice. I came here for it.
TWISDEN. [With a curiously expressive shrug] In that case I don't know that I can usefully stay.
[He goes to the outer door.]
CLARE. Please don't have me followed when I leave here. Please!
LADY DEDMOND. George is outside, Clare.
CLARE. I don't wish to see him. By what right have you come here? [She goes to the door through which MALISE has passed, opens it, and says] Please come in, Mr. Malise.
[MALISE enters.]
TWISDEN. I am sorry. [Glancing at MALISE, he inclines his head] I am sorry. Good morning. [He goes]
LADY DEDMOND. Mr. Malise, I'm sure, will see–
CLARE. Mr. Malise will stay here, please, in his own room.
[MALISE bows]
SIR CHARLES. My dear girl, 'pon my soul, you know, I can't grasp your line of thought at all!
CLARE. No?
LADY DEDMOND. George is most willing to take up things just as they were before you left.
CLARE. Ah!
LADY DEDMOND. Quite frankly—what is it you want?
CLARE. To be left alone. Quite frankly, he made a mistake to have me spied on.
LADY DEDMOND. But, my good girl, if you'd let us know where you were, like a reasonable being. You can't possibly be left to yourself without money or position of any kind. Heaven knows what you'd be driven to!
MALISE. [Softly] Delicious!
SIR CHARLES. You will be good enough to repeat that out loud, sir.
LADY DEDMOND. Charles! Clare, you must know this is all a fit of spleen; your duty and your interest—marriage is sacred, Clare.
CLARE. Marriage! My marriage has become the—the reconciliation—of two animals—one of them unwilling. That's all the sanctity there is about it.
SIR CHARLES. What!
[She looks at MALISE]
LADY DEDMOND. You ought to be horribly ashamed. CLARE.