Three Plays by Granville-Barker - BestLightNovel.com
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DOLLY. Step down . . grandmother.
LADY LEETE. Who did ye say you were?
DOLLY. Mrs. George Leete.
LADY LEETE. Take me to the fire-side.
_So_ CARNABY _and_ DOLLY _lead her slowly to a chair by the fire where they carefully bestow her_.
MR. SMALLPEICE. [_To_ FARMER CROWE.] He's leaving Markswayde, you know . .
and me agent.
LADY LEETE. [_Suddenly bethinking her._] Grace was not said. Fetch my chaplain . . at once.
MR. SMALLPEICE. I will run.
_He runs into the dining-room._
DOLLY. [_Calling after with her country accent._] Not parson Remnant . .
t'other one.
LADY LEETE. [_Demanding._] Snuff.
CARNABY. [_To his father._] Sir . . my hand is a little unsteady.
SIR GEORGE _and_ CARNABY _between them give_ LADY LEETE _her snuff_.
MR. CROWE. Dolly . . ought those children to be left so long?
DOLLY. All right, father . . I have a maid.
LADY LEETE _sneezes_.
SIR GEORGE LEETE. She'll do that once too often altogether.
LADY LEETE. I'm cold.
DOLLY. I'm cold . . I lack my shawl.
CROWE. Call out to your man for it.
DOLLY. [_Going to the dining-room door._] Will a gentleman please ask Mr. George Leete for my Cache-y-mire shawl?
MR. CROWE. [_To_ CARNABY.] And I drank to the health of our grandson.
CARNABY. Now suppose George were to a.s.sume your name, Mr. Crowe?
MR. TOZER _comes out of the dining-room. Of the worst type of eighteenth century parson, for which one may see Hogarth's 'Harlot's Progress.' He is very drunk._
SIR GEORGE LEETE. [_In his wife's ear._] Tozer!
LADY LEETE. When . . why!
SIR GEORGE LEETE. To say grace.
LADY LEETE _folds her withered hands_.
MR. TOZER. [_through his hiccoughs._] d.a.m.n you all.
LADY LEETE. [_Reverently, thinking it is said._] Amen.
MR. TOZER. Only my joke.
CARNABY. [_Rising to the height of the occasion._] Mr. Tozer, I am indeed glad to see you, upon this occasion so delightfully drunk.
MR. TOZER. Always a gen'elman . . by nature.
SIR GEORGE LEETE. Lie down . . you dog.
GEORGE _comes out carrying the cashmere shawl_.
GEORGE. [_To his father._] Dolly wants her father to rent Markswayde, sir.
MR. CROWE. Not me, my son. You're to be a farmer-baronet.
SIR GEORGE. Curse your impudence!
CARNABY. My one regret in dying would be to miss seeing him so.
GEORGE _goes back into the dining-room_.
MR. CROWE. I am tickled to think that the man marrying your daughter wasn't good enough for mine.
CARNABY. And yet at fisticuffs, I'd back John Abud against our son George.
DR. REMNANT _has come out of the dining-room_. TOZER _has stumbled towards him and is wagging an argumentative finger_.
MR. TOZER. . . Marriage means enjoyment!
DR. REMNANT. [_Controlling his indignation._] I repeat that I have found in my own copy of the prayer book no insistence upon a romantic pa.s.sion.
MR. TOZER. My 'terpretation of G.o.d's word is 'bove criticism.
MR. TOZER _reaches the door and falls into the dining-room_.
CARNABY. [_Weakly to_ DR. REMNANT.] Give me your arm for a moment.
DR. REMNANT. I think Lady Cottesham has Mrs. John Abud prepared to start, sir.
