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…he Carlton. (Follows and shuts door.) Sir Percy and Molly part. The effect of his last dose is worn off : clutching his prescription, he goes off with set teeth. Molly goes the other way : to her enter a theatre-goer. MOLLY. Won’t you come with me, ducky ? THEATRE-GOER. Not to-night. See you some other night.
…and you me — No ? — it cannot be so ! and now — I am ill — you cast me away ! (Turns his face away.) Forgive me, I am very weak. ANGELA, goes to him and stands over him. You shall have truth, you blind little fool. I hate you. From the hour you kissed that village drab, I hated you. I wanted your youth, your strength, your life, your name on my list, your scalp at my girdle. Enough ! Do you under- stand ? These friends will teach you. May I never see your pale pasty face again ! [She spits at him and goes.) SIR PERCY, half rises and falls back.…
…EUMOCH. GREUMOCH. Ay, sir. The laddie’s in the thick o’t ! Weel ! She’ll be off tae th’ muir, a’m thinking, sin’ the dee. CARRUTHERS. He goes to solitude ? GREUMOCH. Weel, weel, sir, na ! She wadna say the laddie wad gang yon. CARRUTHERS, smiling. He is ever alone ? GREUMOCH. Oo ay, sir, by his lanes. CARRUTHERS. Go now, and tell me ever of his doings. Exit Greumoch. The hour is nigh, but when that hour may strike
…on’t ? O if you knew what I suffer ! I will pay you double. CHEMIST. I’m afraid not, sir. You may try elsewhere. THE MAN. O God O God ! (Goes out. To him enter on the pavement a bedrag- gled female). THE WOMAN. Come home, ducky, won’t you ? THE MAN. O God ! O God ! I cannot bear it any longer. It is the last I have. (He fumbles awhile inside his coat.) THE WOMAN, catching hold of him. Come, stand me a glass of wine, there’s a dear. THE MAN. Ah ! that is well. Can I use this woman, I wonder ?
WHY JESUS WEPT 9 Attained is the height. Down like a plummet To blackness and night Hope goes. Not here, Not here is Desire, The ease from fear, The ice from fire. Not here — O God ! I would I were dead Under the sod ! My brain is as lead. My thoughts are as smoke. My heart is a fire ; I know not what fuel Is feeding its fury ! In vain I invoke The Lord of Desire ! He is evil and cruel. The spells of Jewry Are poured in his ear In vain : he may hear not. O would I were dumb ! For the pestilent fever That bites my blood Forces like fear These ba…
…, can you give a poor old man a glass of milk ? MOLLY. Yes, sir, I will fetch you one. Pray you, set you down awhile. (He sits down. She goes.) GLENSTRAE. Ugh ! Ugh ! This rheumatism at me again. I wish I had left the business to Arthur. — But there, there, one never knows. (Molly comes in with the milk.) There, there ! what have you been crying for ? MOLLY. O sir ! GLENSTRAE. I am the Marquis of Glenstrae, my pretty wench. If my name and fortune can serve you — there, there ! I never could bear to see a pretty lass cry.
…ur a double dram ! Here’s luck — ah, Satan, give me fifty such ! Drinks off the brandy. And now to bed again — to sleep, I am tired. She goes in. Introduction of new character. The figure of the Marquis of Glenstrae Demands the kind attention of the spot Of consciousness that readers shift away In awe of such a high exalted pot, In England’s upper Witenagemot A figure bright enough to make the sun dun, Yet common — to conceive him asketh not Imagination’s waistcoat buttons undone ! Any old gentleman in any club in London.
…t and conquer the whole world. I shall be the great magician, the Lord of the Stars. I have it in me to write poetry. Yes, that, first. (Goes to table and takes pen and paper.) In praise of — what is your medicine called, dear Marchioness ? LADY GLENSTRAE. Who calls me ? What is it ? Leave me alone ! SIR PERCY. Tell me, dear Lady — Maud ! LADY GLENSTRAE. Ah ! you are the boy. SIR PERCY. Your boy, queen ! LADY GLENSTRAE. Oh, yes, my boy. SIR PERCY. What is this medicine called ?
…o meet each other, and embrace anew for some minutes. Eventually Sir Percy Percivale tears himself away, Molly disappears, and Sir Percy goes sorrowfully back to his boat, which he now manoeuvres to the landing stage. ANGELA. Now let him find it ! This will puzzle him. When Limburger replaces Patchouli, Why — moonrise ! Sir Percy, radiant, reaches the landing stage, moors his boat and mounts. He sees a pink note on the wharf. SIR PERCY. Ah ! she has dropped this ! A cruel fool am I ; I took an honied kiss ; I revelled in pure bliss ; Yet never …
…WHY JESUS WEPT. MOLLY. Dear me ! The young gentleman’s ill too. What a nice boy it is ! I must go and help him. Why did he call to me ? (Goes back.) I was afraid — Yes, but I must go. Something calls me. Is anything the matter, sir ? (He does not answer. She lifts his head to her lap.) How pale he is ! Poor boy ! Shall I run to the Hall and get help, I wonder ? (Puts him gently down and half rises. His eyes open.) SIR PERCY. Oh ! I am but a coward. I am not ill, I was awake. I let you hold me. Forgive me ! MOLLY. Forgive you, sir ? I am a poor …
… ! So fast to ride. He is not here ! Sure, he is dead ! O moon, reveal that holiest head ! There is much sorrow in love’s cup : Pleasure goes ever iron-eyed. Who are these fierce and eager forms That face across the untrodden moor, The dark-browned horsemen lashing, crying ; Urging their weary steeds ? Half-dying The beasts bend bitter to the storm’s Assault : they hunt ? A man, be sure ! These figures touch my soul with fear. What of my love ? These caitiffs chase him, May be. Who rides ? I’ll catch his bridle,
…ne is all description and no drama, and ought to satisfy Mr. Bernard Shaw’s idea of a dramatic scene. (The beau- tiful woman gets up and goes. The poet hastily follows her out.) SCENE XIV TEN MONTHS LATER Sir Percy de Percivale’s Ancestral Hall. SIR HERPES ZOSTER, M.D. SIR GRABSON JABBS, Q.C. SIR HERPES Z. Yes, indeed, a most fortunate event. The children weigh 46 lbs between the three of them. All boys ! I. Godly for “ are in love with one another ”.
… down. Prepare my scented paper, My rosy wax against my coming here — When, girl ? I’ th’ morn, i’ th’ morn ! When else ? I’d write. She goes out, with a set smile on her face, yet a gleam of real laughter beneath it.