Three Plays by Granville-Barker - LightNovelsOnl.com
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SARAH. You surprise me sometimes by breaking out into cant phrases.
CARNABY. What is more useful in the world than honour?
SARAH. I think we never had any . . we!
CARNABY. Give me more details. Tell me, who is this man?
SARAH. I'm innocent . . if that were all.
ANN. Sally, what do they say you've done?
SARAH. I cry out like any poor girl.
CARNABY. There must be no doubt that you're innocent. Why not go for to force Charles into court?
SARAH. My innocence is not of the sort which shows up well.
CARNABY. Hold publicity in reserve. No fear of the two men arranging to meet, is there?
SARAH. They've met . . and they chatted about me.
CARNABY. [_After a moment._] There's sound humour in that.
SARAH. I shall feel able to laugh at them both from Yorks.h.i.+re.
CARNABY. G.o.d forbid! Come to Brighton . . we'll rally Charles no end.
SARAH. Papa, I know there's nothing to be done.
CARNABY. Coward!
SARAH. Besides I don't think I want to go back to my happiness.
_They are silent for a little._
CARNABY. How still! Look . . leaves falling already. Can that man hear what we're saying?
SARAH. [_To_ ANN.] Can Abud overhear?
ANN. I've never talked secrets in the garden before to-day. [_Raising her voice but a very little._] Can you hear me, Abud?
_No reply comes._
CARNABY. Evidently not. There's brains shown in a trifle.
SARAH. Does your arm pain you so much?
ANN. Sarah, this man that you're fond of and that's not your husband is not by any chance Lord John Carp?
SARAH. No.
ANN. Nothing would surprise me.
SARAH. You are witty . . but a little young to be so hard.
CARNABY. Keep to your innocent thoughts.
ANN. I must study politics.
SARAH. We'll stop talking of this.
ANN. No . . let me listen . . quite quietly.
CARNABY. Let her listen . . she's going to be married.
SARAH. Good luck, Ann.
CARNABY. I have great hopes of Ann.
SARAH. I hope she may be heartless. To be heartless is to be quite safe.
CARNABY. Now we detect a taste of sour grapes in your mouth.
SARAH. b.u.t.ter and eggs.
CARNABY. We must all start early in the morning. Sarah will take you, Ann, round the Brighton shops . . fine shops. You shall have the money. . .
SARAH. I will not come with you.
CARNABY. [_Vexedly._] How absurd . . how ridiculous . . to persist in your silly sentiment.
SARAH. [_Her voice rising._] I'm tired of that world . . which goes on and on, and there's no dying . . . one grows into a ghost . . visible . .
then invisible. I'm glad paint has gone out of fas.h.i.+on. . . the painted ghosts were very ill to see.
CARNABY. D'ye scoff at civilisation?
SARAH. Look ahead for me.
CARNABY. Banished to a hole in the d.a.m.ned provinces! But you're young yet, you're charming . . you're the wife . . and the honest wife of one of the country's best men. My head aches. D'ye despise good fortune's gifts? Keep as straight in your place in the world as you can. A monthly packet of books to Yorks.h.i.+re . . no . . you never were fond of reading.
Ye'd play patience . . cultivate chess problems . . kill yourself!
SARAH. When one world fails take another.
CARNABY. You have no more right to commit suicide than to desert the society you were born into. My head aches.
SARAH. George is happy.
CARNABY. D'ye dare to think so?
