Four Plays (eBook)

BEAU AUSTIN

DEDICATED WITH ADMIRATION AND RESPECT TO GEORGE MEREDITH  BOURNEMOUTH: 1ST OCTOBER 1884.

PERSONS REPRESENTED

GEORGE FREDERICK AUSTIN, called 'Beau Austin'  AEtat. 50  JOHN FENWICK, of Allonby Shaw                  "    " 26  ANTHONY MUSGRAVE, Cornet in the Prince's Own   "    " 21 MENTEITH, the Beau's Valet                     "    " 55  A ROYAL DUKE (Dumb show.)  DOROTHY MUSGRAVE, Anthony's Sister             "    " 25  MISS EVELINA FOSTER, her Aunt                  "    " 45  BARBARA RIDLEY, her Maid                       "    " 20  VISITORS TO THE WELLS

The Time is 1820.  The Scene is laid at Tunbridge Wells.  The  Action occupies a space of ten hours.

HAYMARKET THEATRE MONDAY, NOVEMBER 3d, 1890

CAST

GEORGE FREDERICK AUSTIN               MR. TREE  JOHN FENWICK                          MR. FRED TERRY  ANTHONY MUSGRAVE                      MR. EDMUND MAURICE  MENTEITH                              MR. BROOKFIELD  A ROYAL DUKE                          MR. ROBB HARWOOD  DOROTHY MUSGRAVE                      MRS. TREE  MISS EVELINA FOSTER                   MISS ROSE LECLERCQ  BARBARA RIDLEY                        MISS AYLWARD  VISITORS TO THE WELLS

 PROLOGUE

 SPOKEN BY MR. TREE IN THE CHARACTER OF BEAU AUSTIN

 'To all and singular,' as Dryden says,  We bring a fancy of those Georgian days,  Whose style still breathed a faint and fine perfume  Of old-world courtliness and old-world bloom:  When speech was elegant and talk was fit  For slang had not been canonised as wit;  When manners reigned, when breeding had the wall,  And Women - yes! - were ladies first of all;  When Grace was conscious of its gracefulness,  And man - though Man! - was not ashamed to dress.  A brave formality, a measured ease,  Were his - and her's - whose effort was to please.  And to excel in pleasing was to reign  And, if you sighed, never to sigh in vain.

But then, as now - it may be, something more -  Woman and man were human to the core.  The hearts that throbbed behind that quaint attire  Burned with a plenitude of essential fire.  They too could risk, they also could rebel,  They could love wisely - they could love too well.  In that great duel of Sex, that ancient strife  Which is the very central fact of life,  They could - and did - engage it breath for breath,  They could - and did - get wounded unto death.  As at all times since time for us began  Woman was truly woman, man was man,  And joy and sorrow were as much at home  In trifling Tunbridge as in mighty Rome.

Dead - dead and done with!  Swift from shine to shade  The roaring generations flit and fade.  To this one, fading, flitting, like the rest,  We come to proffer - be it worst or best -  A sketch, a shadow, of one brave old time;  A hint of what it might have held sublime;  A dream, an idyll, call it what you will,  Of man still Man, and woman - Woman still!

 BEAU AUSTIN

MUSICAL INDUCTION:  'LASCIA CH'IO PIANGA' (RINALDO). HANDEL.

ACT I.

The Stage represents Miss Foster's apartments at the Wells.  Doors, L. and C.; a window, L. C., looking on the street; a table R., laid for breakfast.

 SCENE I

BARBARA; to her MISS FOSTER

BARBARA (OUT OF WINDOW).  Mr. Menteith!  Mr. Menteith!  Mr.  Menteith! - Drat his old head!  Will nothing make him hear? - Mr. Menteith!

MISS FOSTER (ENTERING).  Barbara! this is incredible:  after all my lessons, to be leaning from the window, and calling (for unless my ears deceived me, you were positively calling!) into the street.

BARBARA.  Well, madam, just wait until you hear who it was.  I  declare it was much more for Miss Dorothy and yourself than for me; and if it was a little countrified, I had a good excuse.

MISS FOSTER.  Nonsense, child!  At least, who was it?

BARBARA.  Miss Evelina, I was sure you would ask.  Well, what do  you think?  I was looking out of window at the barber's opposite -

MISS FOSTER.  Of which I entirely disapprove -

BARBARA.  And first there came out two of the most beautiful - the Royal livery, madam!

MISS FOSTER.  Of course, of course:  the Duke of York arrived last night.  I trust you did not hail the Duke's footmen?

BARBARA.  O no, madam, it was after they were gone.  Then, who  should come out - but you'll never guess!

MISS FOSTER.  I shall certainly not try.

BARBARA.  Mr. Menteith himself!

MISS FOSTER.  Why, child, I never heard of him.

BARBARA.  O madam, not the Beau's own gentleman?

MISS FOSTER.  Mr. Austin's servant.  No?  Is it possible?  By that, George Austin must be here.

BARBARA.  No doubt of that, madam; they're never far apart.  He  came out feeling his chin, madam, so; and a packet of letters under his arm, so; and he had the Beau's own walk to that degree you couldn't tell his back from his master's.

MISS FOSTER.  My dear Barbara, you too frequently forget yourself.  A young woman in your position must beware of levity.

BARBARA.  Madam, I know it; but la, what are you to make of me?   Look at the time and trouble dear Miss Dorothy was always taking - she that trained up everybody - and see what's come of it:  Barbara Ridley I was, and Barbara Ridley I am; and I don't do with fashionable ways - I can't do with them; and indeed, Miss Evelina, I do sometimes wish we were all back again on Edenside, and Mr. Anthony a boy again, and dear Miss Dorothy her old self, galloping the bay mare along the moor, and taking care of all of us as if she was our mother, bless her heart!

MISS FOSTER.  Miss Dorothy herself, child?  Well, now you mention it, Tunbridge of late has scarcely seemed to suit her constitution.  She falls away, has not a word to throw at a dog, and is ridiculously pale.  Well, now Mr. Austin has returned, after six months of infidelity to the dear Wells, we shall all, I hope, be brightened up.  Has the mail come?

BARBARA.  That it has, madam, and the sight of Mr. Menteith put it clean out of my head.  (WITH LETTERS.)  Four for you, Miss Evelina, two for me, and only one for Miss Dorothy.  Miss Dorothy seems quite neglected, does she not?  Six months ago, it was a different story.

MISS FOSTER.  Well, and that's true, Barbara, and I had not  remarked it.  I must take her seriously to task.  No young lady in her position should neglect her correspondence.  (OPENING A  LETTER.)  Here's from that dear ridiculous boy, the Cornet,  announcing his arrival for to-day.

BARBARA.  O madam, will he come in his red coat?

MISS FOSTER.  I could not conceive him missing such a chance.  Youth, child, is always vain, and Mr. Anthony is unusually young.

BARBARA.  La, madam, he can't help that.

MISS FOSTER.  My child, I am not so sure.  Mr. Anthony is a great concern to me.  He was orphaned, to be sure, at ten years old; and ever since he has been only as it were his sister's son.  Dorothy did everything for him:  more indeed than I thought quite ladylike, but I suppose I begin to be old-fashioned.  See how she worked and slaved - yes, slaved! - for him:  teaching him herself, with what pains and patience she only could reveal,...