Green Stockings: A Comedy in Three Acts

Grice. (Coming down center above and to the L. of Raleigh) Do you owe anything? You have revoked, lost the rubber, played the worst game I have ever seen, and now you ask if you owe anything. Yes, you owe Lady Trenchard three and six.

(Raleigh turns L. to Evelyn and pays her.)

Faraday. (Moving R. toward morning room) Come and have a whiskey and soda.

Tarver. Whiskey and soda. What, ho! (He rises.)

(Grice, Faraday and Tarver exit through morning room. Enter Martin L.I with salver. Steele starts for door R.I and gets to door. Raleigh goes up to morning room. Just as he gets to the door, he sees Steele, who is about to exit after Celia.)

Raleigh. No, you don't, Steele. You come along here.

(Steele goes up R. of sofa and exits with Raleigh, protesting. There is a general lively subdued conversation during these exits.)

Martin. (When only Phyllis and Evelyn are left on the stage) It is time for the letters, your Ladyship.

Evelyn. (Goes L. above table, adding up her bridge score and deferring the matter to Phyllis) Oh, Phyllis.

Phyllis. (Crossing to Martin with letter that Madge has given her) Here's one of Mrs. Rockingham's. (Martin comes C., takes it and turns to door L. Phyllis turns back R. Stopping) Oh, Martin. (Martin stops at table R.) Has Miss Faraday given you one?

Martin. No, Miss.

Phyllis. I will call her- Wait a minute- Perhaps she left it here. (Warn electrician for lights out. Phyllis looks about on table and writing desk, then returns to table. She aimlessly rummages through pile of periodicals at foot of table, knocking them off on the floor. In replacing them, she comes across blue envelope, and in picking this up by one corner, the letters that Celia has put in it, including the "Smith" letter, fall to the floor. She goes to replace the letters, sees the "Smith" letter, and speaks) Oh, here it is. (Reads address) Colonel John Smith, Somaliland. (Crosses and gives letter to Martin and he exits L.I. She returns to table, places two of the magazines back on it, then the large blue envelope in which she has replaced other letters, and then the rest of the magazines on top of these. All this should be done quickly and unconsciously, Phyllis humming while she is doing it.)

Evelyn. (After Phyllis has replaced magazines) I wonder who he is. Oh, let's look him up in the army list. (Gets army list from book slide, table L.)

Phyllis. Oh, let's. (Crosses to Evelyn and together they turn over the pages to the S's. Reading) "Smith-Smith-Smith-Smith" – Oh, here it is. "J. N. Smith, D. S. O."

Evelyn. (With mild surprise) Distinguished Service Order.

Phyllis. (Reading) "West African Rifles."

Evelyn. (Crossing R. to morning room) I suppose that's the man.

Phyllis. It must be. (Replaces army list in book slide and runs after Evelyn toward morning room to electric light switch by door) The Rifles wear green thing-a-majigs on their tunics, don't they?

Evelyn. Yes, I think they do.

(Phyllis switches off light and then Evelyn puts out lamp in the morning room as they exit chatting. The room is lighted now only by the firelight and light in card room. As soon as the stage is clear, Celia enters cautiously. She goes to table R., looks for large envelope, finds it and throws it quickly into the fire, not looking at its contents. She stands thinking a moment, then goes to table L., looks at book rack, snatches out army list, crosses and, after making sure that it is the army list by looking at it in the firelight, throws it into the fire. Note: The electrician should at this point flash on and off a thirty-two amber lamp in the fireplace to give the impression of the burning of the envelope and army list that Celia has thrown into the fire. Aunt Ida, who has remained out of sight in the card room, enters as Celia crosses to fire with book.)

Aunt Ida. Why, Celia.

Celia. (Turns around, startled. Goes to light switch up R. and turns on lights) Oh, it's you, Aunt Ida.

Aunt Ida. (Comes down and crosses to center and sees book in flames) Celia, what was that?

Celia. (Sitting on fender and swinging her foot) That? The army list.

Aunt Ida. The army list? And you burned it? Celia!

Celia. Well, Aunt Ida.

Aunt Ida. (Beside chair L. of table R. In low voice, almost tearfully) Celia, darling, have you been doing something-foolish? (Celia laughs.) Is there-is there-anything peculiar about-Colonel Smith?

Celia. (Smiling) What would you call-peculiar, Aunt Ida?

Aunt Ida. (With great gentleness, but evidently distressed) Forgive me, dearest. It is-is there anything about Colonel Smith you don't want the family to know?

Celia. Yes. (Going to Aunt Ida above chair R. Laughs) There is-something-about Colonel Smith-I don't want the family to know. (Laughs.)

Aunt Ida. Why, isn't he-what you said?

Celia. (Looking at Aunt Ida and laughing) He is not.

Aunt Ida. (Timidly) No-?

Celia. He is-not!! (Celia, above chair R., swings Aunt Ida into it.)

Aunt Ida. Mercy, child! Don't drive me crazy! He is not-not what?

Celia. Not at all. (Looks at Aunt Ida and begins to laugh irrepressibly.)

Aunt Ida. Celia!

Celia. (Bends above Aunt Ida, putting her arms about her from back and kissing her neck) Hush-listen, dear- Will you swear you won't betray me?

Aunt Ida. But-Celia!

Celia. Will you promise, Aunt Ida? I know I can trust you if you will only really promise never to breathe a word of what I am going to tell you to any living being?

Aunt Ida. Well-but-I am not sure.

Celia. Oh, very well, then-if you don't want to (Crosses to chair R. of table L. and sits.)

Aunt Ida. No, no, Celia, I promise. There now, I have promised.

Celia. Very well, then. (Slowly and emphatically) There-isn't-any-Colonel Smith.

Aunt Ida. (Helplessly) There-isn't-any-Colonel?

Celia. None.

Aunt Ida. Then who is he?

Celia. He isn't. I invented him.

Aunt Ida. (Rising) But, Celia-your engagement?

Celia. Well, naturally I invented that too.

Aunt Ida. Celia Faraday, you are not telling the truth.

Celia. (Shaking her head) No.

Aunt Ida. (Going towards Celia) You are deceiving everybody.

Celia. Yes.

Aunt Ida. You are being frightfully immoral.

Celia. Yes.

Aunt Ida. (Startled) And how on earth are you going to keep them from finding out?

Celia. (Taking Aunt Ida's hand) Well, first of all, dear, a regiment did sail for Somaliland this morning.

Aunt Ida. Yes, but regiments sail back.

Celia. Wobbles won't.

Aunt Ida. Wobbles?

Celia. (Laughing to herself) Isn't that a heavenly name, Aunt Ida, – Wobbles?

Aunt Ida. (Turning away from Celia reprovingly) Celia!

Celia. (Still seated, throwing out her arms with a big gesture) Oh, the difference that dear, dear man is going to make in my life. Oh, the difference.

Aunt Ida. (Going back to Celia and putting her hand on her shoulder) Oh, my dearest child. Do give up this mad scheme and come back with me and be happy in Chicago.

Celia. Oh, I couldn't give it up now. It's going to be too much fun. Now be a dear and stand by me through this and then I'll go to Chicago and stay there forever, but first let me have this one mad experience, do let me enjoy my blushing triumph as a brave and absent soldier's adored fiancée. (Crosses to table R. and straightens writing things.) Do you know, Aunt Ida, I just loved writing that first love letter to him just now.

Aunt Ida. But Celia, your letter!!!

Celia. That is all right, dear. I burned that. Do you know what I am going to do, Aunt Ida? (Suddenly throwing herself in chair L. of table R.)

Aunt Ida. What?

Celia. I am going to make it a point now to shut myself alone in my room every afternoon for hours-let someone else look after the house and the servants while I correspond with Wobbles. (Aunt Ida laughs.) I am going to give myself a chance at last. I'm going to do all sorts of wonderful things.

Aunt Ida. (Down C.) What?

Celia. (Rising and coming to her) I don't know what, but I'm going to do them. One day I'll wear a haunted look in my eye as I gaze sadly toward Somaliland. I wonder where it is. (Looks around.) The next, I'll have a merry laugh or else a mocking smile. By day, I'll wander through the woods and think of him. By night, I'll sit before the fire and dream of him.

Aunt Ida. Celia! Celia!

Celia. Oh, I know I'll be a perfect fool, but I'll be the only one who will know it, and if one little fib can turn this household upside down, I am going to keep it there now just as long as it pleases me. (Saunters right.)

Aunt Ida. (Frightened) Celia, suppose you are found out!

Celia. (Coming back C.) Now, what should I do? My heroic Wobbles-my beloved Colonel Smith will die-in Somaliland. (Going to magazine table, gets calendar, comes down C. to Aunt Ida and runs over leaves.) Now, let me see when-when will he die? (Stop's at a leaf.) On October 11th. There, now, it is all arranged. (She replaces calendar on table.) After eight brief months of the most perfect understanding, I shall lose-Wobbles. After eight months, I'll write out a notice of his death and you will send it to the Times.

Aunt Ida. (Slowly) To The Times? I?

Celia. Yes.

Aunt Ida. Never. (Sits R. of table L.)

Celia. What? Not if I promise to go with you to Chicago? (Aunt Ida shakes her head.) And you know how much you always wanted me to do that. Oh, yes, you will, Aunt Ida. (Goes to her.) I'll buy the tickets to-morrow. You shall have the very nicest cabin on the whole ship. On October 11th we will kill off the Colonel and the very next day we will sail away, we'll sail away. (Crosses R. gayly.)

Aunt Ida. I tell you, I will not help you. It's too immoral.

Celia. Oh, very well, then. Have I, or have I not, proved now that I can help myself?

Aunt Ida. (Rising and coming C. Half angry, half laughing) Are you, or are you not, ashamed of yourself, Celia Faraday?

Celia. Ashamed? I? Why, no, not the least little bit in the world. I don't believe I was ever so happy in all my life.

Aunt Ida. Oh, oh!

Celia. It's all very well, dear, for you to "Oh, oh!" at me, but I ask you, Aunt Ida, have you ever been pitied and patronized as I was here to-night, as I have been all these years, and looked upon as old and ugly and dowdy and dull?

Aunt Ida. (Sympathetically) Not that, Celia, not that.

Celia. Oh, don't think I don't know those things about myself. I do, but I don't like to hear them all the time, just the same. Have you ever been a wall-flower at every ball you have gone to, while all the other girls danced and had a perfectly lovely time? Have you ever been seated next to the oldest, deafest members of the community at every dinner party you have gone to? Positively, Aunt Ida, I've grown so now that I can't talk at a dinner party except through an ear trumpet. (Goes R. and then returns.) And, if that Tarver creature or a Jim Raleigh or that old fossil of an Admiral or any other mortal trouser-wearing remnant of humanity had ever condescended to propose to me, there isn't a man or woman in this entire household, beginning with Martin and the boot boy, who wouldn't respect me and treat me quite differently in consequence.

Aunt Ida. Yes, I know it.

Celia. Oh, don't I know it?

Aunt Ida. Yes, it has been pretty well rubbed in.

Celia. Yes, I should say it has. Well, it has just been rubbed in so hard to-night that, as Phyllis would say, the straw has broken the worm's back and the worm has turned at last. Never, never, never again will I be content to be what I have been all these years. "Good old Celia." (Walking R.) Yes, "Nice old thing." (Walking to C.) Celia who doesn't want things and Celia who looks after things and Celia who doesn't mind things and Celia who attends to things. Well, Celia who attends to things is dead. Now everything attends to Celia. (Warn curtain. From now on, gay and laughing and walking to and fro across stage with Aunt Ida slowly, her arm around Aunt Ida's waist.) When the day begins and Father shouts, "God bless my soul, what's the matter with this coffee?" (Turns right) I'll be upstairs in bed, drinking chocolate. And then, when the evening comes and Martin says, "Beg pardon, Miss, but the whiskey is out," I'll say, "I don't care. Colonel Smith doesn't drink." (Turns L.) Instead of keeping house accounts, I'm going to write my love letters, and instead of ordering groceries, I'm going to order frocks, and wait until you see the frocks I'm going to order. (They stop walking.) I'm going to be a blazing dream. I'll be younger than the youngest of them, gayer than the gayest, and what do I care now what any of them say or do or think about me? I'll wear just as many green stockings as they wish at as many weddings as they please, and I'll laugh and I'll sing and I'll dance them into holes, because why? Well, I'll have a sweetheart of my own, don't you see? I'll be the lady love of-Wobbles. (Waves her handkerchief in the air and she and Aunt Ida embrace, laughing heartily.)

QUICK CURTAIN

(Running time, thirty to thirty-five minutes, depending on laughs.)

ACT II

Scene: Same as Act I.

There is a slight rearrangement of furniture and addition of properties. Table and chairs L.C., moved twelve inches nearer center. Armchair put left of table and plain chair right of table. The lamp has been moved from table to top of cabinet L., making room for teatray laid for five people. Also on the tray is a plate containing plum cake, a three-shelf muffin-stand or curate, containing cakes and sandwiches, is placed below cabinet. Sewing bag, purse and army list have been removed. Throat spray for Phyllis behind vase on table R. A medicine bottle in room off R. Embroidery on table R. for Phyllis. Election speech (a roll of foolscap paper) on cabinet L. for Tarver. Waste-paper basket removed. The curtains are drawn closer than in Act I and card table has been folded and placed against backing and chairs distributed against backing of card room. The ladies are in afternoon house dress and Faraday in frock or morning coat. All the flowers are changed and autumn varieties replace those of spring. It is eight months later in the late afternoon. Halfway through the act, it grows darker and lights are required, though lights are full up to commence.

As the curtain rises, Phyllis is seated on sofa R., doing some embroidery. Evelyn is toying with a book, seated L. of table R. Madge is at the head of the tea table, pouring tea. Faraday stands to left of table.

Faraday. (Running over the books in book slide) Where is that army list? It's a great nuisance, not a sign of the army list. The army list has disappeared again. I wanted to write to General Partington this morning and I couldn't find out whether he was a K. C. B. or a K. C. S. I.

(Aunt Ida enters through card room in outdoor dress and comes directly down L.C. She should show signs of nervous apprehension all through the opening of the Act.)

Madge. Tea, Aunt Ida?

Aunt Ida. Please. (Nervously) What's the matter, William?

Faraday. The army list has disappeared again. I haven't seen one for months. Phyllis, will you ask Celia to order another new one? (Sits left.) Phyllis I do, Father, every time, but Celia always forgets it.

Aunt Ida. (Sits on edge of chair R. of table L. On tenter hooks) Has the Times come yet?

Faraday. No.

Aunt Ida. It's very late.

Faraday. (Getting up and getting muffin-stand from below cabinet, setting it between his knees) It is always very late. I eat much too much tea every day, waiting for that Times. It's not good for me. (Selects a big muffin from stand.)

Evelyn. But, Father, couldn't you make up your mind to restrain yourself?

(Enter Martin through card room.)

Faraday. I can make up my mind all right, but I can't restrain myself. (Bites into the muffin.)

Martin. (Announcing) Admiral Grice.

(Enter Grice through card room. Martin comes down L. of table to door. Grice comes down to table.)

Faraday. How do you do, Grice? Have some tea.

(All greet Admiral in casual tones.)

Grice. Thanks.

(Madge pours him a cup of tea. He takes it and crosses and shakes hands with Lady Trenchard and Phyllis, then goes and stands below fender.)

Faraday. (Stopping Martin at door L.) And Martin, see that another army list is bought. Send in to Lumley at once.

Martin. Another army list, sir? Yes, sir. (Exit L.IE.)

Grice. (In an injured tone) Celia is not here!

Phyllis. She has gone to see old Wilson, young Wilson's father. There is a rumor that he's wavering.

Faraday. Wavering! Wilson? He has some influence, too. I do hate a station master who can't stick to his political principles.

Grice. What's Wilson's trouble?

Evelyn. Compulsory vaccination. He can't spell it, so he's against it.

Grice. Silly ass! Well, if anyone can settle him, it will be Celia.

Phyllis. Yes, isn't she splendid? I believe Celia could make anybody do anything.

Aunt Ida. Have you just discovered that?

Grice. I don't think that's much of a discovery.

Aunt Ida. Nor I.

Madge. Yes, but Aunt Ida, you never really knew Celia before.

Aunt Ida. Before what?

Madge. (Enthusiastically) Before she was engaged. Before she let herself go, before she showed us all the Celiaishness of Celia.

Grice. There isn't a finer girl in England. (Puts teacup on mantel.) No, nor a finer dinner than the one I'm giving her to-night.

(Enter Tarver L.I, elaborately dressed and spattered with mud. He leans against jamb of door weakly. Everyone but Aunt Ida starts in surprise at sight of Tarver. Note: Aunt Ida does not participate in this scene, being wholly engrossed in the matter of the Times.)

Phyllis. (Starting up, goes toward Tarver a few steps) Bobby!!!!

Tarver. (Leaning weakly against door) I'm dead to the world.

Evelyn. What has happened?

Tarver. The most awful thing.

Phyllis. It was that dreadful ordeal of laying the corner stone, I suppose.

Grice. (Contemptuously) They asked you to lay a corner stone?

Tarver. They had to have a personage.

Omnes. A personage!

Tarver. You see, the beastly ground was full of puddles and, just as I stepped forward with a trowel in my hand, I slipped, and-

Grice. And sat down in one of them, I suppose.

Tarver. That's exactly what I did do. Oh! How they all yelled. (All laugh, Admiral loudest. Coming C. and limping) It's all very well for you to laugh, Admiral, but that puddle may cost us the seat.

Faraday. Tarver!

Grice. Tarver! Bring a trowel and a pail of mortar to my garden to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock sharp. I'll teach you how to lay a corner stone. (Gets his cup, goes up and crosses above sofa to teatable, and puts his cup down.)

(Phyllis comes C. to Tarver.)

Tarver. Oh, Phyllis, where are my voice lozenges?

Phyllis. (Taking his arm sympathetically) They're all gone, Bobby, but Celia said she would fetch you some.

Tarver. That's kind of her. My throat's awful. Where's the spray?

(Phyllis runs up and around to R. of sofa, getting spray. Tarver sits on stool below sofa and Phyllis comes down to R. of him.)

Phyllis. (Spraying his throat) Never mind, Bobby, there are only ten days more.

Tarver. (Chokes) I don't think I can last out the ten days. When that bench broke last night in the middle of my speech, I really thought it was my nervous system gone at last.

Grice. (Thunderously. Coming C.) Tarver!

Tarver. (Jumps) Oh, Admiral, don't speak to me like that or I shall cry.

(Phyllis sits on foot of sofa, her arm on Tarver's shoulder.)

Grice, You made a mistake last night. Canada is not to the north of Alaska.

Tarver. Did I say it was? (Phyllis shakes her head. Looks toward Phyllis) Oh, how awful!

Grice. Tarver, you are dining with me to-night.

Tarver. Yes, sir.

Grice. Bring your Atlas. We will go slowly through the countries of the world in my study afterwards.

Phyllis. (Rises quickly) Oh, but you can't, Admiral. There's the Philharmonic concert after your dinner party, and we all have to go to it.

Tarver. Yes, and my opponent is going to be there.

Phyllis. If Bobby were late, it would produce a bad impression.

Grice. Then come before dinner.

Tarver. (Rising) But, Admiral, I haven't written a word of my election speech yet except "Gentlemen" and that's a lie.

Grice. (Threateningly) Tarver! Wilson is not the only elector in the Lumley division who is wavering.

Phyllis. (Starts) Oh, Admiral!

Faraday. (Seated L.) You, Grice, you?

Phyllis. Oh, you couldn't vote against Bobby!

Grice. Perhaps not, but I might try.

Tarver. Oh! I'll bring my Atlas! (Speaks despairingly. Turns up R., looking for tonic.)

Phyllis. (Running to Admiral) Oh, yes, Bobby will be delighted to bring his Atlas.

Grice. Bobby will be delighted to take away his Atlas. (Martin enters L.I with copy of the "London Times" and a small folded periodical on salver.) Tarver, geography, eight o'clock sharp. Dinner, eight fifteen. (Turns to table.)

Martin. The Times, sir.

Faraday. At last.

Grice. Ah, the Times!

Aunt Ida. (Rising in alarm and backing up stage from chair. Grice takes her place in chair.) Oh, the Times, the Times!

Tarver. Oh, Phyllis, where is that bottle of Guy's tonic?

Phyllis. It is out here, Bobby. (Exit in the morning room.)

Tarver. (Following her) Thanks awfully. I needed it badly.

(Madge takes periodical and begins to read. Faraday takes the outer sheet of the Times, pulls it off, and throws it across table. It falls to floor R. of table. Grice stoops to pick it up. Evelyn takes it from his hand as he rises, saying, "Thank you, Admiral." Grice looks at her disgustedly and sits twiddling his thumbs. Note: The outer sheets of the Times must be stuck together in order to have them fall properly. Note: The birth, marriage and death column of the Times is in the upper left hand corner of the first page. Evelyn, Madge and Faraday have become absorbed in their papers. Grice looks about him and then, exasperated, seizes a book and sits R. of table L., reading it.)