Green Stockings: A Comedy in Three Acts

(Note: The bodice of the black dress Celia wears, which is completely hidden by the black shawl, should be of some bright color, to be disclosed in Act III.)

Aunt Ida. (With a long wail) Will somebody pinch me, please? (Sits.)

Tarver. (Coming to foot of sofa and kneeling) Let me do it for you, won't you?

(Martin enters through L.I with army list on tray. Comes to Faraday.)

Aunt Ida. Certainly not.

Tarver. (Rising and going back to head of sofa) So sorry.

Martin. The wagonette is at the door, sir.

(Evelyn and Madge cross to door L., bidding goodnight to Colonel Smith, and exit.)

Faraday. Very well, what have you got there, Martin?

Martin. Another army list, sir.

Smith. (Above table L.C. Seeing army list) Oh, damn!

Faraday. All right. Put it on the table. (Martin puts army list on table, crosses R. and exits through morning room, turning on lights in morning room.) Now then, off we go. (Counting) One, two, three, four. (To Phyllis and Tarver) No hanging behind, you two. (Tarver and Phyllis cross quickly L. to door.) Got your atlas, Tarver?

Tarver. Yes, sir.

(Phyllis and Tarver exit, nodding good-night to Colonel Smith.)

Faraday. Then off we go. (Coming down to Aunt Ida's chair, helping her up and supporting her. Aunt Ida, who is now in a thoroughly demoralised condition, weakly and brokenly emits little gasps. The feathers in her hair have fallen over one eye. She also shows other traces of her recent fit. Faraday lifts her up, puts his arm around her waist and leads her across the stage, Faraday above her. Celia follows her as far as chair R. of table L., where she remains.) Come along, Ida. This has been a little too much for you. Nothing like fresh air for an attack like yours. You will be all right when you get out in the fresh air. (Aunt Ida crosses with him quickly, but haltingly, still emitting little gasps. When she gets almost to the door, she looks back at Celia's dress, and with a final burst, exits. Faraday at door) My daughter will appreciate these quiet, I may say, these holy hours-with you, Colonel Vavasour.

Smith. (Comes down L.C.) I appreciate them, sir.

(Faraday exits L.IE., closing door after him. Martin enters through morning room.)

Martin. Dinner is served. Miss. (Exits through morning room.)

(Clock off L., upper, chimes eight.)

Smith. Eight!

Celia. And your train goes at ten.

Smith. Yes. We shall have two long hours to talk of Smith. (Offers Celia his arm. Celia takes it and they go slowly up to morning room.)

QUICK CURTAIN

ACT III

Scene: It is two hours later in the morning room. At center back are large recess double doors with muslin curtains on lower half and chintz curtains on upper half. When the doors are opened, a portion of the room of the preceding acts can be seen. Directly at back is seen the table, on which stands the book slide containing the army list. The table runs across stage. Behind and to the R. of this and against the back drop is seen the cabinet of the preceding act. Directly behind table is a chair. The fire glow comes from the R. The back drop should be that portion of the L. wall of the preceding set, showing large picture hung as before. At the left of the set proper, reaching from the floor almost to the ceiling, a semicircular conservatory window, curves out into the room. In this are palms and flowers, with a greenery backing. Recessed into L. first flat is a china closet, containing china and bric-a-brac. Balancing this in R.I is a door leading to the hall. Balancing the conseCrvatory is a large recessed window, muslin curtains on the lower sash and chintz curtains on the upper. Damask hangings over window and also over doors C. All of these hangings are looped back. In the window is set a window box containing flowers. In the center of the window is a small sewing table. Below it and facing it, a winged armchair; above it and facing it, another small armchair. On the table are a lamp and some flowers. Against back flat and to left of window is a small serving table, on which are an empty silver serving tray, a small tray and a small decanter of brandy and two liquor glasses on it. To left of double doors is a chair. R. of conservatory, a chintz-covered stool. Below conservatory, a three-winged, chintz-covered screen. Below this and about three feet from L. flat is a desk, running up and down stage; the lower end being slightly more on stage. On this, on the extreme upper end, is a telephone. Also on the desk are inkwell, pens, paper and envelopes. On the elevated portion of the upper end is a lamp. Below desk, a waste paper basket. In the center of the stage and well down is a small, round dinner table, with cloth. On the table are a cigarette box, a cigarette lighter (burning), two ashtrays, plates, doilies and finger-bowls containing water, fruit knives and forks, a nut-cracker, and an almond dish. Directly in the center of the table is a fruit basket, containing apples, grapes and peaches. One peach should be easily accessible, it being used by Colonel Smith. At the upper end of table are two shaded, lighted candles, between these a vase with flowers. At Celia's place to the R. is a claret glass, stained at the bottom to represent a residue of wine. At Smith's place are a clean claret glass and a high-ball glass, containing a small quantity of whiskey and soda. On either side of the table are chairs. On the back flat, to each side of the doors, are candle brackets. Before curtain rises, the clock off stage (same as used in previous act) chimes ten. Curtain rises on the first stroke, after the usual Westminster prelude. Dinner is over. The lamps are lit and doors at back closed. Celia sits to R. of table, dipping her fingers in finger-bowl. She is in the black dress and shawl of the preceding act. Smith is to the left. He is intent upon explaining something to Celia, and she is listening with most apparent interest. At rise of curtain.

Smith. (Continuing his description) It was the usual sort of formation when a small force gets caught in the open-a square with the maxims at the corners. We had only two, – one-here-at the tip of the nut-crackers, and the other here-at the end of the knife-handle. (He has made a square with dessert knives and nut-crackers on the tablecloth. To illustrate the position of the maxims he uses nuts.)

Celia. Only two!

Smith. We should have liked some more, of course. But we'd have gotten along all right if this fellow here-(Touching one of the nuts) – hadn't jammed.

Celia. Oh! What happened then?

Smith. The Somalis at the corner charged. From here, from here, from here, others swept round and flung themselves upon the back of their companions. Imagine a huge wedge and an enormous hammer pounding behind it. They split our ranks in a second. It was a surprise that took you by the throat. You heard the maxim talking to 'em like a father, and, by George, there they were in the hollow of the square, stabbing at our backs.

Celia. (With much admiration) Oh-and where were you?

Smith. (In square) Here.

Celia. There?

Smith. Yes. (He takes a peach.) That's me. (Places it in the square.)

Celia. Ah! There! You were there?

Smith. Oh, I was all right. We faced the rear ranks about and drove 'em out of it. It was messy. You see, we could only use the bayonet inside the square. In a little while we got the maxim going again and made 'em respectful. However, they hung around us and we couldn't move along very fast. That was our trouble. For we had to move along, we were short of water and a day's march from the wells.

Celia. Oh!

Smith. So, you see, it was necessary that as soon as night came, someone should get through and bring relief.

Celia. (With much appreciation) I know what happened. I know! – You volunteered-

Smith. (Looks at her; his eyes accept her homage and thank her. He laughs happily) Yes. Between you and me-it was safer outside the square.

Celia. (Reproachfully) Oh-!

Smith. Well-I wasn't in command. So I could volunteer.

Celia. And got the D. S. O. in consequence.

Smith. And a drink a day before the others. I'll get a step, too, I think.

Celia. Then you'll be general, won't you?

Smith. Brigadier-

Celia. (Smiling at him admiringly) You can't know what it means to a woman who has lived always in a little out-of-the-way place like this, where only the same ordinary things happen day after day, to hear of wonderful deeds like these-from a man who's done them! (Speaks earnestly, without gushing.)

(Smith beams; moves his chair slightly towards her.)

Smith. Oh, yes. We are getting along together capitally, aren't we? And you can't know how all this-(Moves his hand to include the room) – appeals to a man who finds the skirmish and the camp a bit of an old story, and realizes that this-the quiet, well-ordered household-the home-and the home-maker-is after all what is really worth fighting for.

Celia. (Leans forward, listening) But-surely you have a home?

Smith. I have a house- By Jove! Now I have two houses!

Celia. (Interested) You have just bought another place?

Smith. Inherited it. An old Abbey about the size of Trafalgar Square on a wet day-and not as cheerful.

Celia. But you mustn't let yourself be lonely. You ought to marry.

Smith. (Moves his chair closer to Celia) That's what I begin to think.

(Martin enters R. with tray. On it, two small cups, small sugar bowl and a coffee pot, also one cigarette for Celia.)

Celia. (Seeing Martin) Won't you have a cigarette? (Offering Smith cigarette box.)

Smith. (Takes cigarette and moves back) Thank you.

Martin. (Placing coffee on the table) Coffee, Miss.

Celia. Sugar?

Smith. Thanks, yes.

Martin. (Has taken up Celia's plate and finger-bowl in right hand and now takes Smith's plate and finger-bow.) Old brandy, sir?

Smith. Old brandy! By George, yes! (Lights cigarette.)

(Martin goes up to small serving table R. of door and puts plates and finger-bowls on tray and gets brandy tray which he brings down to table and pours out one glass, leaving brandy on table. He takes the napkins, goes up, puts them on tray with other things and exits with tray R.I.)

Celia. (While Martin is serving) I asked Martin to serve coffee here, because I thought it would be cosier, you know. (Having poured Smith's coffee, she passes cup to him.)

Smith. (Taking cup slowly from her) Much-much cosier; though, for both of us to-night-(Celia fills her cup) – our one idea of cosiness must be the grave.

(Celia drops pot on tray.)

Celia. (Leans forward, takes cigarette from coffee tray and lights it) The grave! Then, tell me of it, won't you? Where does it lie?

Smith. (Openly perplexed, sees Celia smoking and attempts to use this as a means of extricating himself. Pretending to be shocked) Oh! the grave! oh-

Celia. What's the matter? (Puffs her cigarette.)

Smith. (Shrugging his shoulders) Oh, nothing, nothing.

Celia. Do you object to women smoking?

Smith. I? Not at all. It's companionable, but Smith-(Celia chokes on cigarette) – would Smith have liked to see you smoking a cigarette?

Celia. (Annoyed, pauses) Perhaps not-to-night.

Smith. Not to-night and not any night. (Celia viciously presses cigarette down on ashtray and puts it out. Reprovingly) We both know how strongly he disapproved of the modern latitude of women's manners. (She turns away.) You know I'd fancy the man who could make you care for him would be quite different from Smith. You haven't his little shut-in way of looking at life. You have such a splendid imagination.

Celia. (Nervously) Yes, and I'm beginning to think I need one.

Smith. Did you really love each other?

Celia. (Takes up her coffee cup) I can't answer for Colonel Smith-who was a man you know. But for myself, I can truthfully say that I have thought of him every day for eight months. Thought of him- Yes! And written to him too.

Smith. (Startled) Written to him! By Jove, then! Where are those letters? You can't let things like that go astray. Letters from you-knocking loose about a camp! (He is upset and disturbed.)

Celia. (Smiling to herself) Why should you imagine-my letters never reached him?

Smith. (Smiling reminiscently) Because I was with him-when he got the first one.

Celia. (Very agitated. Puts her cup sharply on saucer) You-you-you don't mean to say a Colonel Smith ever received- Oh-no gentleman could have shown my letter.

Smith. (Sincerely) Shown it? Oh, Miss Faraday, you can't know what that letter of yours meant to-

Celia. (Turning on him quickly) I beg your pardon.

Smith. I mean did meant-I mean did mean-to good old Smith. (Leaning forward with a smile. Moves his chair below table a little closer to hers.) I say, I've an idea. Let's forget Smith for five minutes and talk of something else.

Celia. (Forgetting herself) Oh, yes! Do let's.

Smith. What shall we talk about?

Celia. (Very engagingly) You. You have hardly said a word yet about yourself-and-naturally I am interested. (Speaks with a smile. Face on L. hand.)

(Smith edges toward her, delighted R. elbow on table, face on hand.)

Smith. I was born-guess when?

Celia. Thirty years ago.

Smith. (Holding out box) Have a cigarette?

Celia. No, thank you. I'd rather not. Do you think Smith would have liked me to smoke?

Smith. Ah, you see, we can't get away from him. He dominates us. Living or dead, his imperious nature will not be neglected. He sits at the table here between you and me. (Designates a spot between them on table.) To satisfy him, we've got to talk about him.

Celia. What is there to say?

Smith. What is there to say! And you've told me nothing about the Smith you knew.

Celia. (Surprised) The Smith I knew? (Recovering herself) Oh, yes, of course.

Smith. Yes-you see I know him only as the soldier-the man of action-the fighting man-but you-

Celia. But there is nothing to tell.

Smith. (Strongly) You mean there is nothing you wish to tell.

Celia. (Defiantly) Certainly not. What is it you wish to know?

Smith. Let us compare our pictures-mental, of course-of the man. (With solicitude.)

Celia. Oh, no-not at all. Not at all.

Smith. Then you describe Smith as you saw him, and I'll tell you if I agree with you.

Celia. Of course, you know our descriptions won't be alike. No two people's description of anyone ever would be.

Smith. Of course not-except in the definite facts. – His eyes, for instance-

Celia. His eyes-his eyes were not definite.

Smith. Not definite?

Celia. Their color. I mean it varied. Emotion kindled them-apathy dulled them. Sometimes they were light and again they were very, very dark.

Smith. That's funny. I never saw them dark. To me they always were light, like bottle glass.

Celia. Really? Possibly you were not very observing.

Smith. (Acknowledges the point with a touch of impatience) Possibly not. But his hair? Surely we can't differ as to that?

Celia. His hair-you mean did it curl or was it straight?

Smith. Yes-and its color.

Celia. His hair-I hardly know how to describe his hair, because his hair was- It was like no hair that I ever saw.

Smith. (Laughs) That's a splendid description of a bald man. That always was a great grief to Smith, his baldness; his head was so very bald and bumpy.

Celia. Oh, yes.

Smith. (Puts his hand to his head) What! (Recovering himself) Oh, yes, yes. (Growing more and more determined to trip her and more and more interested in and appreciative of her attractiveness) Now his mouth-

Celia. Well. His mouth was peculiar-

Smith. Peculiar?

Celia. Yes, you see it broadened when he smiled.

Smith. (Laughing) Oh-did he smile for you?

Celia. Oh, often, very often.

Smith. Yes, we all do-don't we? What would you say of his voice?

Celia. It was kind, always kind.

Smith. (Shakes head) Gruff and commanding.

Celia. (Insinuatingly) Naturally-not to me. (Her hand rests on the table.)

Smith. (Slowly covering her hand with his) No, no-how could it be?

Celia. (Looking over their hands to the spot that Smith had indicated earlier) Do you feel he's sitting there still?

Smith. (Leaning toward her) You're surely not afraid of-Wobbles?

Celia. (Pushes chair back, sliding with it as far up stage as possible. Faintly) Did you say-Wobbles?

Smith. (Briskly) You surely knew his nickname?

Celia. (Openly perplexed) But I-I called him-Wobbles. (Stares at Smith.)

Smith. Why! All the Army called him-Wobbles.

Celia. (In dry, queer voice) I didn't know that.

(READY Third Border.)

Smith. He was the most popular fellow-! You won't go to a dance or a garden party for the rest of your life-there won't be a town in the United Kingdom, Miss Faraday, where you won't meet somebody, some old school-fellow, some brother-officer, who knew him: – who will understand your loss and tell you new details of Wobbles. (Rises.)

Celia. (Rises and comes down stage) Not if I know it! (Smith stares at her. Returning, getting her chair and replacing it at table) Colonel Vavasour-I mean it will be quite impossible for me-to indulge myself in any such fashion. Because just as soon as possible, I'm sailing for America.

Smith. (Dropping below table) America? Why, Smith has-four brothers ranching there. And five-I mean three-sisters-in-law. I congratulate you, Miss Faraday. (Offers Celia his hand. Celia takes it limply and he shakes it.) You are going to the very heart of poor Wobbles' family. Shan't I cable them to meet you at the dock? (They are both now in front of table.)

Celia. (Withdrawing her hand) No-no-no-no, please don't do anything like that.

Smith. Why not?

Celia. Well, I don't know, but I-I might get off the ship before it reaches New York. At all events I am going where no one can ever find me.

Smith. (Quickly, but quite seriously) Then-by Jove-I'm going there too. (Takes her left hand tenderly and leans forward. They look straight into each other's eyes for a moment.)

Celia. (Draws herself up) Aren't you forgetting yourself, Colonel Vavasour? (With an irresistible impulse of mischief) Or are you only forgetting Wobbles? (Crosses C. to table. Looking back at spot on table.)

(THIRD Border Full Up.)

(A gay chatter is heard off L. of party returning from concert.)

Smith. (Not hearing it) Oh, damn Wobbles. (Crosses L.) I'm going because- (The center doors open quickly. Grice, Steele, Faraday, Tarver and Phyllis, Evelyn, Raleigh and Aunt Ida are in the doorway, having come from the left. Conscious of the presence of returning party, Smith reverts to his tone of solemnity and Celia bows her head with grief. Faraday, in doorway, hearing Smith, turns and raises his hands to quiet the party. Grice and Aunt Ida have drifted down L. ahead of the others. Aunt Ida sinks wearily into chair by desk.) Hour by hour, he lay on his sick bed, looking out across the-thatched roofs of Berbera to the Arab- (Grice sneezes loudly. Turning) Good Lord, what's that! (The others come down in the following order: Steele, Raleigh and Evelyn come down R.; Phyllis and Tarver up C.; Faraday to R. of Celia; Madge by Aunt Ida's chair. Grice has gone down L.C. Some of the party are carrying programs. The doors are left open.) In the midst of our sad communings, how strangely out of place are these revelers.

Omnes. Revelers?

Smith. They come flushed with new wine.

Grice. New wine? They dined with me, sir.

Celia. (Turning to Faraday) Was the concert a success?

Faraday. Of course it was. We were there. (Goes up stage.)

Grice. (Plaintively) We missed you, Celia.

Smith. Miss Faraday couldn't go without hearing Colonel Smith's last message.

(Aunt Ida laughs hysterically.)

Faraday. (Crossing to Aunt Ida. Sternly) Not again, Ida, not again.

(Aunt Ida relapses into a state of semi-oblivion.)

Smith. It's not nearly ended yet.

Steele. Well, she has had over two hours to hear it in.

Smith. (Scornfully) Two hours? It was a long message. He lay for weeks on his sickbed gazing across the thatched roofs of Berbera to-watching-

Raleigh. Oh, yes, watching the Arab cows feeding at their anchors.

Smith. Dhows, man, dhows!

Raleigh. Well, dhows or cows, I don't care. And as for Smith, I tell you, I am fed with the fellow.

(Celia explodes into laughter, covers her face with handkerchief, and sits R. of table.)

Steele. (Thinking Celia is crying) You brute! You-you blundering idiot!

Tarver. (Coming down R. of Celia) Even now he's dead, he's kept you from the concert to-night. My agent told me that we just shouldn't do it. He expects I will lose by a hundred votes.

Faraday. How's that?

Celia. (Looking up quickly) Oh, no, Bobby, it's not too late. We'll help you. (Rises and crosses to Smith, who is R.)

Smith. I am at your service, Miss Faraday.

Tarver. (To Smith, eagerly) And you're some good-aren't you? (Goes up to Phyllis, back C.)

Faraday. We may call on you later, Vavasour.

Smith. Do. Do.

Faraday. (Taking Admiral by the arm and going) Come along, Admiral. Come and have a cigar and we'll talk it over. (Spoken off stage R.) Smith or no Smith, we must win this seat.

Tarver. (Taking Phyllis' arm) Madge-Evelyn. Let's go and count the names of the hundred beasts who won't vote for me.

(Phyllis and Tarver and Madge move to door C. and exit R.)

Evelyn. (Who has moved up to door, turns in door. Coquettishly to Steele and Raleigh) I'm afraid I can't count-without some big, strong man to help me.

Raleigh. (Looking round) Ask Steele. He took all the 'rithmetic prizes at his kindergarten.

Steele. (Looking round) I'll come in one minute, Lady Trenchard. There's something on my program I must show to Miss Faraday. (Indicating program.)

Evelyn. (At door) Well-! When Celia has quite done with all of you- (Exit rapidly.)

(Clock chimes half hour. A moment after Evelyn has gone off, she presumably switches off lights in room off C. -then third border is put out and no light except glow from fire remains. The doors remain wide open.)