Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 56

I'm High and you're Low--

ROSAMUND. I'm not Low; I'm Broad, or else Evangelical.

JAMES [_beginning calmly again_]. I'm High and you're Broad, and there was a serious question about candles and a genuflexion, and so we decided on the registry office, which, after all, is much cheaper.

ROSAMUND [_drying her tears, and putting on a saintly expression_].

Well, anyhow, James, we will consider our engagement at an end.

JAMES. This extraordinary tiff has lasted long enough, Rosie. Come and be kissed.

ROSAMUND [_with increased saintliness_]. You mistake me, James. I am not quarreling. I am not angry.

JAMES. Then you have ceased to love me?

ROSAMUND. I adore you pa.s.sionately. But we can never marry. Do you not perceive the warnings against such a course? First of all you come here--drawn by some mysterious, sinister impulse--in breach of all etiquette. That was a Sign.

JAMES. A sign of what?

ROSAMUND. Evil. Then you find that postcard, to remind me of a forgotten episode.

JAMES. d.a.m.n the postcard! I wish I'd never picked it up.

ROSAMUND. Hus.h.!.+ Then comes this letter about Lottie.

JAMES. d.a.m.n that, too!

ROSAMUND [_sighs_]. Then Gerald arrives.

JAMES. d.a.m.n him, too! By the way, where is he?

GERALD [_coming out from behind the screen_]. Sir, if you want to influence my future state by means of a blasphemous expletive, let me beg you to do it when ladies are not present. There are certain prayers which should only be uttered in the smoking-room. [_The two men stab each other with their eyes._]

JAMES. I respectfully maintain, Mr. O'Mara, that you had no business to call on my future wife within three hours of her wedding, and throw her into such a condition of alarm and unrest that she doesn't know whether she is going to get married or not.

GERALD. Sir! How in the name of Heaven was I to guess--

ROSAMUND [_rising, with an imperative gesture_]. Stop! Sit down, both.

James [_who hesitates_], this is the last request I shall ever make of you. [_He sits_]. Let me speak. Long ago, from a mistaken motive of kindness, I gave this poor boy [_pointing to Gerald_] to understand that I loved him; that any rate I should love him in time. Supported by that a.s.surance, he existed for four years through the climatic terrors of a distant isle. I, pampered with all the superfluities of civilization, forgot this n.o.ble youth in his exile. I fell selfishly in love. I promised to marry ... while he, with nothing to a.s.suage the rigors--

JAMES. Pardon me, there was Evelyn's "Moonlight Sonata," not to mention Madge's eyes.

ROSAMUND. You jest, James, but the jest is untimely. Has he not himself said that these doubtless excellent young women were in fact nothing to him, that it was _my_ image which he kept steadfastly in his heart?

GERALD. Ye--es, of course, Rosie.

ROSAMUND [_chiefly to James_]. The sight of this poor youth fills me with sorrow and compunction and shame. For it reminds me that four years ago I lied to him.

GERALD. It was awfully good of you, you know.

ROSAMUND. That is beside the point. At an earlier period of this unhappy morning, James, you a.s.severated that you could not dream of getting married with a lie on your lips. Neither can I. James, I love you to madness. [_Takes his inert hand, shakes it, and drops it again._]

Good-by, James! Henceforth we shall be strangers. My duty is towards Gerald.

GERALD. But if you love _him_?

ROSAMUND. With a good woman, conscience comes first, love second. In time I shall learn to love _you_. I was always quick at lessons. Gerald, take me. It is the only way by which I can purge my lips of the lie uttered four years ago. [_Puts her hands on Gerald's shoulders._]

JAMES. In about three-quarters of an hour you will regret this, Rosamund Fife.

ROSAMUND. One never regrets a good action.

GERALD. Oh! well! I say.... [_inarticulate with embarra.s.sment_].

ROSAMUND [_after a pause_]. James, we are waiting.

JAMES. What for?

ROSAMUND. For you to go.

JAMES. Don't mind me. You forget that I am in the War Office, and accustomed to surprising situations.

GERALD. Look here, Rosie. It's awfully good of you, and you're doing me a frightfully kind turn; but I can't accept it, you know. It wouldn't do. Kindness spoils my character.

JAMES. Yes, and think of the shock to the n.o.ble youth.

GERALD. I couldn't permit such a sacrifice.

ROSAMUND. To a good woman life should be one long sacrifice.

GERALD. Yes, that's all very well, and I tell you, Rosie, I'm awfully obliged to you. Of course I'm desperately in love with you. That goes without saying. But I also must sacrifice myself. The fact is ...

there's Madge....

ROSAMUND. Well?

GERALD. Well, you know what a place a steamer is, especially in calm, warm weather. I'm afraid I've rather led her to expect.... The fact is, while you and Mr. Brett were having your little discussion just now, I employed the time in scribbling out a bit of a letter to her, and I rather fancy that I've struck one or two deuced good ideas in the proposal line. How's this for a novelty: "My dear Miss Madge, you cannot fail to have noticed from my behavior in your presence that I admire you tremendously?" Rather a neat beginning, eh?

ROSAMUND. But you said you loved me.

GERALD. Oh, well, so I do. You see I only state that I "admire" her. All the same I feel I'm sort of bound to her, ... you see how I'm fixed. I should much prefer, of course....

JAMES. To a good man life should be one long sacrifice.

GERALD. Exactly, sir.

ROSAMUND [_steadying herself and approaching James_]. Jim, my sacrifice is over. It was a terrible ordeal, and nothing but a strict sense of duty could have supported me through such a trying crisis. I am yours.

Lead me to the altar. I trust Gerald may be happy with this person named Madge.

JAMES. The flame of your love has not faltered?

ROSAMUND. Ah, no!