or,
a little operetta in one act
Words by Andrew Crowther
Music by Scott Farrell
To apply for performance permission, please apply to both Andrew Crowther and Scott Farrell.
Characters:
TOM SETTLE
HARRY BROCK
PHILIPPA BROCK
ISOLDE MULVANEY
MADDISON & MORTON
Scene: TOM'S house in suburban America, late 19th century. Some sort of French windows or equivalent access to outdoors, as well as door to other rooms. TOM and HARRY are in opposite armchairs, reading papers. Silence, except perhaps for introductory music. Music under the dialogue which follows?
TOM: Man found nude in tree, singing. Police suspect he may have been drinking.
HARRY: Famous person says something amusing.
TOM: Mayor shakes hands with another mayor.
HARRY: Small dog goes missing.
TOM: Domestic dispute ends in flesh wound.
HARRY: Are worms necessary?
[They sing!]
BOTH: Oh, when you read the stories
That the daily papers tell,
Then the world and all its glories
Seem a hollow, hollow shell -
Highly
dangerous, as well!
So in a world where strife is rife,
How sweet to
lead a quiet life!
HARRY: There's a man in Omletville Bay, N.J.,
Who has an accident
every day.
He walks down the street and everything's calm,
But he slips
or he trips and he breaks an arm.
The days of his life are a world of
pains
With slashes and gashes, bruises and sprains.
He runs the ads you
see every week
On courses that give you the perfect physique!
BOTH Misfortunes abound if you choose to roam -
It's safer to stay
at home!
TOM: And here's the tale of a man in New York
Who decided one day to
go for a walk,
And was stopped in the street by a nice young man
With
an open smile and expensive tan.
"Pardon me, friend," he said, "What's the
time?
Or, failing that, have you got change for a dime?"
Our man had
neither, the other man sobbed,
Embraced him and left - but our man had been
robbed!
BOTH: What charlatans pounce if you choose to roam -
It's safer to
stay at home!
HARRY: A man went down to the grocery store,
Closing his windows and
locking his door.
He noticed a stranger, crossed over the street,
Checked to see there was no gum on his feet.
He purchased his goods from
his usual range,
Tested the products and checked his change,
Made his
way back through the streets of town,
Only to find his house had burned
down! -
BOTH: What dangers you face if you choose to roam -
It's safer to
stay at home!
Oh, when you read the stories
That the daily papers tell,
Then
the world and all its glories
Seem a hollow, hollow shell -
Highly
dangerous, as well!
So in a world where strife is rife,
How sweet to
lead a quiet life!
HARRY: That's very true, Tom. What could be more pleasant than to spend the evening quietly, without fuss, in the company of a good friend?
TOM: Thanks, Harry - and I could say the same. This is the life, no worries, no cares, just the comfort of your own home.
HARRY [sigh]: Yes.
TOM: Hm?
HARRY: Well… you know I appreciate your hospitality, Tom, but as a matter of fact this isn't my own home.
TOM: You're welcome to it any time, you know that.
HARRY: Yes, I know, and thank you…… But I do keep thinking of my own dear home, so snug and warm ---
TOM: My home's quite snug and warm too, isn't it?
HARRY: Not as snug and warm as mine! And then of course I see Philippa waiting -
TOM: Ah!
HARRY: Dear sweet Philippa, sitting by the fire with her, er, knitting or crocheting or whatever you call it.
TOM: And don't forget her dear sweet mother too.
HARRY: Tom!
TOM: Well, don't you see her there too?
HARRY: I try not to……..
TOM: But she's there all the same.
HARRY: Yes, worse luck - that's the problem. She's the reason why I'm here, not there.
TOM: Your mother-in-law.
HARRY: Yes - what a cliché! But Tom, she made it impossible! "Don't do that, do this" - "Oh, I didn't mean that, I meant something else" - "Can't you understand plain English?" - "That's no way to speak to a lady"---- you know.
TOM: Oh, yes. And so you ran away.
HARRY: Don't say that! I haven't run away. I've just… made a strategic retreat for a few days. I explained it all to Philippa. She tried to dissuade me, but she understood. I couldn't stand it another day - No one could! Philippa was so sweet about it all. You've never met her, have you?
TOM: No. You told me she and her mother were inseparable, and I decided better not. Meet the daughter, meet the mother…. No, I've met quite enough dragons for one lifetime.
HARRY: Yes, she is a bit of a fire-breather, but oh! Philippa's quite a different matter. An angel, I tell you. She----
TOM: Harry, please. I'm very happy for you, but must you go on about it? After all, she's only a woman.
HARRY [a little shocked, standing]: Oh! Tom, you have no soul.
TOM: Of course I do. I read poetry and everything. But I have my feet firmly on the ground, I see things as they are, and I don't see why you have to say "angel" when you mean----
HARRY: Tom!! [Pause.] You should have married.
TOM: Me? Oh, no. Man is born free but everywhere he is in chains, as the fellow said, and he's right. I prefer to be free.
HARRY: Really?
TOM: Really.
HARRY: And you've never thought otherwise, you've never met anyone who filled you with joy and pain and a terrible yearning---
TOM [angry]: No! No, she wasn't worth losing a moment's sleep over….. [Realises.]
HARRY: Oh, who was that then?
TOM: No one! [calmer] No one.
HARRY [long pause]: All right. I, er, I think I'll take the air for a few minutes. It's a beautiful night.
TOM: Be my guest.
HARRY: Thank you. [Exits through windows.]
TOM: Silly boy. He thinks he knows it all! Well, he'll learn. His dear sweet Philippa will start getting old, and then - oh lor! No, a man should be a bachelor like me - free, happy, alone. A carefree life! No, I have no regrets. None!
SONG - TOM.
Look at me, a single man,
Independent, proud and free,
Living
on a planless plan,
Happy in my liberty!--
Glad to know my life's my
own,
Prisoned by no jailer wife,
Isolated and alone,
No one else
to share my life ----
No!
That's not what I meant to say--
How I
hope that I may stay
Single to my dying day!
Look at Harry, married man,
Slave to every wifely whim,
Harried
by the harridan--
No, no liberty for him!
Chained to her for all his
life,
Servant of a pretty face!--
Locked in with a loving wife,
Held by her in sweet embrace ----
No!
That's not what I meant to
say--
How I hope, yes, I hope,
How I hope that I may stay
Single
to my dying---------
[Suddenly PHILIPPA bursts in through the windows, with outdoor coat, as if fleeing from someone.]
PHILIPPA: Quick! Hide me!
TOM [confused]: What? Who are--[you]?
PHILIPPA: There's no time to explain--they're coming! Where can I hide?
[TOM looks over at the window, and sees two men approaching--he quickly snatches up a paper and gives it to her.]
TOM: Sit here.
[He sits her down in one of the chairs and guides her to hold the paper in front of her face. At this moment MADDISON and MORTON enter, two detectives in long coats. They burst in like a physical force, darting all over the room in long strides and calling to each other.]
MADDISON: Near left corner empty!
MORTON: Check! Near right corner empty!
MADDISON: Check! Moving toward the door!
MORTON: I'll cover you!
MADDISON [moving towards door]: Approaching door!
MORTON: Safe to proceed!
[MADDISON pauses; flings open door.]
MADDISON: Hall behind door empty!
BOTH: Check!
[This is of course rough; I am thinking of these characters as
Vaudevilleans, and there should be scope for improvisation in their routines.
During this TOM has been trying to attract their
attention.]
TOM: Hey!
MADDISON & MORTON [turning together]: Yes?
TOM: What's all this?
MADDISON [sudden grace]: Oh, I do beg your pardon. Are you the owner of this pleasant bijou residence?
TOM: It's mortgaged.
MADDISON: That makes no matter; mortgage or no mortgage, we are intruding, and I apologise unreservedly. Don't we, Morton?
MORTON: We certainly do. Unreservedly.
TOM: Well, that's very good of you, but why--?
MADDISON: Oh! Allow me to introduce myself.
MORTON: Allow me to introduce myself.
MADDISON: One at a time, Morton, please; we are not savages. [To TOM.] He's so impatient! I am John Maddison, private investigator. My card. [Hands card.]
MORTON: And I am James Morton, private investigator. My card. [Hands card.]
TOM [looks at both cards]: I see. But why---?
MADDISON: It's a fair question, sir, and it deserves a fair answer. You're a decent respectable citizen, and the last thing you expect to happen of an evening is for two strange men to burst into your homely quarters. Am I right, sir?
TOM: Yes---
MADDISON: I knew it! The fact is we're on a case, and when you're on a case you care but little for the social niceties.
MORTON: That's right! The thrill of the chase takes over, the tingle of danger fills you with a sort of heady exhilaration, and the rights of private property seem minor matters.
TOM: You're looking for someone?
MADDISON: You're right, sir, we are looking for someone, and I'm glad you reminded me of the fact. I have reason to believe she may have been heading this way when last seen.
MORTON: I have reason to believe the same thing too, sir, because I was the person who last saw her.
MADDISON: He was the person who last saw her. Now, I hope you don't object to our asking you a few questions?
TOM: I----
MADDISON: Good! Now, have you ever seen this woman? [Produces silhouette portrait with a flourish and shows it to him.]
TOM [pause]: It's a silhouette.
MADDISON: We know it's a silhouette, sir. We have noticed the fact.
MORTON: It haunts our very existence.
MADDISON: It makes our job a whole lot more difficult, I don't mind telling you. It's no picnic trying to identify someone from a blacked-out profile.
MORTON: But we're not paid to have picnics, are we, Maddison?
MADDISON: We certainly are not! So we take on the difficulties and we overcome them.
MORTON: We are professionals.
MADDISON: Professionals! Yes, that's what we are. So again I ask, sir, without fear or favour---- [notices PHILIPPA in chair.] Ah! And who is this here?
TOM [confused]: That? Ah----
PHILIPPA [still behind paper]: -- Your wife.
TOM: That's right, my wife. Thank you, dear.
MADDISON: Ah, your wife. Good! You must pardon my prying, sir, but we must be thorough. Now, as to this silhouette----
TOM: I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I'm afraid I don't recognise this lady. And that being so, I find I am unable to help you any further, and I wonder if I may ask you to----
MADDISON: Ah! You want us to leave?
TOM: Please.
MORTON: Oh, but it's not as easy as that!
MADDISON: No, it isn't.
TOM: Why not??
MADDISON: Well, it so happens that we brought the old lady with us and arranged for her to meet us here when we had checked it out.
TOM: What old lady?
MADDISON: Oh, didn't we explain? The lady's mother, I mean the lady who has gone missing and who we're looking for.
MORTON: Whom. Whom we're looking for.
MADDISON: For whom we're looking. She's the dame who hired us in the first place, you understand, to find her daughter. She joined us in the chase, and as I say she should be arriving any second now--------
[ISOLDE MULVANEY appears at window to dramatic music.]
ISOLDE: Ah!---------------------
Behold, I have arrived! Come,
faithful bloodhounds,
Where is my daughter? Bring her to my arms!
[Pause. MADDISON & MORTON embarrassed.]
MADDISON: Er----
ISOLDE: Where is she? Answer me, or I shall die!
Enraptured in the
ruptured world of doubt,
I melt into the arms of welcome Death!
MORTON [spoken]: Oh, don't do that!
ISOLDE: Then tell me, tell me, tell me!
MORTON: Well---
TOM: Excuse me, madam, can I help you?
This is my house.
ISOLDE [turning to him]: Ah!
I know she is here,
So
bring me my daughter!
Come, make her appear--
Oh, bring me my
daughter!
She decided to scoot
But we're hot in pursuit:
All day
have we sought her,
So bring me my daughter now!
MADDISON & MORTON: Yes, bring in her daughter,
Bring in her
daughter,
Bring in her daughter now!
TOM: Oh, pardon me, ma'am,
I don't think I know you.
I pray
you stay calm,
I know I don't know you!
Would it be impolite
If I
bid you good night?
There's a door I can show you--
You see, I don't
know you from Adam,
Madam!
ISOLDE: Bring me my daughter!
MADDISON & MORTON: All day have we sought her!
TOM: But, ma'am, I don't know you,
The door I can show you!
[These lines and similar sung in escalating argument, till PHILIPPA puts down paper at last and stands up.]
PHILIPPA: Ah!----------
[All stop and turn to her. Music ends.]
PHILIPPA: Hello, mother.
ISOLDE: Philippa!! [She swoops on her and embraces her.] You should be ashamed of yourself!
PHILIPPA: Why?
ISOLDE: Why?? How do you think I felt, waking up this morning to find you gone? My own little child, running away without a word!
PHILIPPA: But---
ISOLDE: And to run here, of all places! Why here, to some perfect stranger's----
MORTON: Oh, but-- [trying to interrupt and failing]
ISOLDE:--house? My dear, he could be anyone!
MORTON: He's her husband.
ISOLDE: Well, that does make a difference…. [Realises.] Her what????
MORTON: Husband. [To TOM.] That is what you said, isn't it, sir?
TOM: Well, yes---
MORTON: [to ISOLDE] There!
ISOLDE [to TOM]: You are married to Philippa?
[Long pause. He looks at her, at PHILIPPA (who mischievously gives him no sign), and at the detectives. He decides.]
TOM: Yes, I am. I'm not ashamed of it.
ISOLDE: Well, you should be!
TOM: Madam, you have no hold over her, now that I have married her.
ISOLDE: But she's married already!
TOM [pause]: What?
ISOLDE: She's married already.
TOM [to PHILIPPA]: You're married??
PHILIPPA: Oh, didn't I mention it?
[TOM is aghast.]
ISOLDE: Philippa, come with me. [She seizes PHILIPPA's hand.] You're not fit to look after yourself.
TOM: But I'm not really married to her….
ISOLDE: You can't wriggle out of it now, you… you rake!
TOM: I just thought---
ISOLDE: I know what you thought, and I don't want to hear it.
PHILIPPA: But, mother!
ISOLDE: Yes, dear, what is it now?
PHILIPPA: The gentleman is quite right. We are not married; I never met him before tonight.
ISOLDE: Shameless girl!
PHILIPPA: He was just trying to protect me….
TOM: Yes….
ISOLDE: You never met him before?
PHILIPPA: That's right.
ISOLDE: So why did you run away to his house? Coincidence?
PHILIPPA: Of course.
ISOLDE [sigh]: Why should I believe a word you tell me?
PHILIPPA: You don't believe me?
ISOLDE: You have deceived me cruelly! Why should I believe you now?
PHILIPPA [intensely]: Oh mother, surely your heart can tell you that?
SONG.--PHILIPPA.
When I was but a swaddling child
You gave me all that I needed:
You fed me, clothed me, scolded and smiled,
You spoke, and always I heeded.
You soothed me with a sensitive touch,
You pampered, flustered and
fussed me--
And in return I don't ask for much:
I only ask you to
trust me!
You know that I obey,
You know I don't defy;
And so how
can you say
That I would ever lie?
All through my life you've guided the way,
You've shown me how to
live rightly:
Be fresh and true and honest as day,
And talk to people
politely.
But now see all of that disappear!
Oh mother, why do you
grieve me?
My face is clear, my eyes are sincere,
So tell me, why not
believe me?
Oh, do not turn away,
Come look me in the eye--
How can
you bear to say
That I would ever lie?
ISOLDE: Very pretty. [To the detectives] Come here, you two. Don't let this lady out of your sight.
TOM: Where are you going?
ISOLDE: I think we shall go through into the dining room, until we can arrange safe transport back.
TOM: But this is my house!
ISOLDE [very coldly and blocking off all reply]: Yes. Come on, Philippa
[Exeunt ISOLDE and PHILIPPA, with MADDISON and MORTON. TOM is alone, bewildered and confused. He collapses in a chair.]
TOM [to audience]: What was all that about?
[Enter HARRY in a mood of romantic melancholy. He thinks he is alone, so he sings.]
BALLAD.--HARRY.
The night is clear and still;
The world is softly sleeping;
No
shepherd on the hill,
Nor any farmer reaping---
And is that why I
sigh?
I ask the lonely moon,
The mask of silver sorrow:
Oh, will she
be here soon?
Today, tonight, tomorrow?
But there is no reply.
My aching heart, be chaste!
When sorrow is complete,
It leaves
a bitter taste,
But bitterness is sweet, so----
I stand out in the night;
My heart has lost its treasure;
I
wonder how pain's bite
Can be so near to pleasure---
But there is no
reply.
[During this, TOM sits in his own bewildered world, not paying attention. HARRY finishing singing and wanders aimlessly to TOM's chair and sees him with a start.]
HARRY: Tom!
TOM [snapping out of it]: What? Oh, Harry, you'll never believe what's happened!
HARRY: Why not?
TOM: Because it's unbelievable! I can't make head or tail of it.
HARRY [sitting in other chair]: Try me.
TOM [pause]: All right. Ten minutes ago I was alone in here when what happens but a young woman runs in through the window.
HARRY: My word! Was she pretty?
TOM: That's got nothing to do with it! She wanted me to hide her because some people were after her.
HARRY: So what did you do?
TOM: I only had time to put her in a chair and give her a paper before two strange men came in claiming they were detectives and asking for her. Of course I said I hadn't seen her---
HARRY: She was pretty, wasn't she?
TOM: Well, yes--but that's nothing to do with it, I tell you! Anyway, no sooner had I said that when this mad old woman burst in as well, asking after the girl, her daughter apparently. My God, but she's a fearsome old dragon! You should have heard her with her "Aaaaaahh!" and her "Bring me my daughter!" [giving a rough impression of ISOLDE's singing.]
HARRY [shocked]: What was that?
TOM: That was her singing.
HARRY: Do it again!
TOM [flattered]: Oh, very well. [Sings] "Bring me my daughter--"
HARRY: That's my mother-in-law!
[Pause.]
TOM: Oh, don't be ridiculous!
HARRY: It must be. I would recognise those Wagnerian tones anywhere. [Pause. Suddenly:] But that means this girl you hid must be---
TOM: Your wife!
HARRY: Philippa!
[Enter PHILIPPA.]
PHILIPPA: Harry!
HARRY [standing up]: Philippa!
[He opens his arms, but she doesn't rush into them. She explains, self-possessed.]
PHILIPPA: Harry, you were right. Mother is intolerable! I stuck it for three days, but this morning I knew I couldn't stand it any more and I ran away!
HARRY: And came here?
PHILIPPA: I knew you had to be with Tom Settle, so I looked up his address and here I am!
HARRY: And here you are! Philippa, I've been so unhappy without you!
PHILIPPA: So have I, Harry.
TOM: I think I'll go outside for a while….
HARRY: Okay….
[TOM leaves through door, a bit embarrassed.]
I thought he'd never go! [Appraising pause.] Well…..
PHILIPPA: Well…. [Pause.] Are you going to say sorry, then?
HARRY: Sorry? For what?
PHILIPPA: Harry!
HARRY: Oh, yes, I see! But you said I was right about your mother….
PHILIPPA: I didn't say you should have bolted.
HARRY: But you wouldn't be here if you hadn't forgiven me. You have forgiven me, haven't you?
PHILIPPA: How can I forgive you when you haven't said sorry?
HARRY [pause]: All right, then.
DUET.--Harry and Philippa.
HARRY: I've acted badly, I admit,
In seeing fit to up and flit;
I've thought and I've repented it,
So everything is fine!
This moment
on, I guarantee,
We'll live as one eternally,
So show that you've
forgiven me--
Come put your hand in mine!
[She doesn't
respond.]
Come put your hand in mine….
PHILIPPA: You've acted very badly, yes;
You caused me such
unhappiness,
And now am I to acquiesce
To your assured command?
I
ought to make you suffer, dear;
My attitude should be severe:
The more
I think, the more it's clear
I shouldn't take your hand!
I
shouldn't….
[She weakens, and takes his hand. Change: the argument is over.]
BOTH: We need each other, you and I:
We hear each other's lonely
cry,
And softly vow at last to try
This marriage just begun.
We
wound each other with our pride,
So let us put the thing aside
And be
each other's trusting guide,
For our two hands are one,
And our two
hearts are one.
[Ending in an embrace.]
HARRY: Philippa….
PHILIPPA: Yes…?
HARRY: I'm sorry.
PHILIPPA: Good. [Suddenly businesslike:] What do we do now?
HARRY: We could try that again….
PHILIPPA: No! I mean… what do we do about mother?
HARRY: If we catch the next train we could be out of the country before she knows what's happening.
PHILIPPA: Harry!! She's my mother. I don't want to do anything to hurt her.
HARRY: But…. Philippa, I'm sorry, but she's not going to keep on living with us, is she? She's intolerable!
PHILIPPA: She's a lonely old woman, Harry. If we desert her, who can she turn to?
HARRY: Hmm. I see what you mean. Her husband's dead?
PHILIPPA: Five years ago.
HARRY: No men friends in the picture?
PHILIPPA: Of course not.
HARRY: Of course not. Well in that case I don't see what----
[Enter ISOLDE.]
ISOLDE: Philippa! Come here!
PHILIPPA: Mama…
HARRY: Good evening, mother.
ISOLDE: Oh--Harry. Philippa, come away from him at once.
PHILIPPA: He's my husband!
ISOLDE: He's no fit husband for you, my dear. He deserted you!
PHILIPPA: But I love him.
HARRY: And I love her.
PHILIPPA: And anyway, I'm a grown woman now. I'm not a child.
ISOLDE: And you defy me? [Calling] Maddison! Morton! Come here!
[Enter MADDISON & MORTON, and TOM.]
ISOLDE: Seize her!
[Pause.]
MADDISON: I'm sorry, ma'am?
ISOLDE: Seize her, I say! She's coming home again.
MADDISON: I don't think we can do that, I'm afraid. [To MORTON.] Can we?
MORTON: Definitely not.
ISOLDE: So you too defy me? What does this mean?
MADDISON: This gentleman [TOM] has just explained a few things to us. It seems the young lady is over twenty-one, and married.
TOM: To Harry there.
MORTON: In which case, ma'am, you have no legal right over her movements.
MADDISON: We are respectable detectives, ma'am, and we have our licence to consider.
ISOLDE: Respectable detectives! There's no such thing!
MADDISON [hurt]: Madam, it is a noble profession.
MORTON: The finest there is.
DUET:---Maddison & Morton
MADDISON: Madam, you think, because our coats are shabby,
That we
are mere disreputable glue-shoes.
[Reaction from MORTON.]
MORTON: Gumshoes!
[MADDISON
ignores him.]
MADDISON: We may seem coarse, we may seem dull and flabby,
Yet we
would not disgrace Westminster Abbey--
We're each and every one a
goody-two-shoes!
A private detective is more than a sleuth--
He's policeman, he's
judge and he's jury;
A noble crusader in search of the truth,
And a
tartar to fear in his fury.
He's an unsullied knight who patrols the mean
streets
With the object of making them cleaner:
Every dragon he
slays, every troll he defeats
Makes the world a more pleasant arena.
BOTH: Oh, a private detective
Is never defective,
He never
gives up till he finds his objective--
A chivalrous knight
Who is
spotlessly white
Is your typical private detective!
MORTON: A private detective is logic defined,
He's a cool-headed
mystery-solver;
His tools are his great analytical mind, His morality--and
a revolver.
He may drink like a journalist, swear like a hood,
He may
kill those he reckons are lawless--
But that doesn't matter, his motives
are good,
For the soul of a flatfoot is flawless!
BOTH: Yes, a private detective
Is never defective,
He never
gives up till he finds his objective--
A modern-day saint
With no
manner of taint
Is your typical private detective!
[Pause.]
ISOLDE: I see.
MORTON: Good. So let's hear no more of that.
MADDISON: We can't kidnap your daughter. Not on what you're paying us.
[Pause.]
ISOLDE: Philippa, I can't force you. But will you come back home to me?
PHILIPPA: I'm sorry, mother. No.
ISOLDE: Ohh! [wounded.]
PHILIPPA [goes over to her]: I'm sorry, mama, truly I am. But I can't.
ISOLDE: You will desert me, then? Oh, what is to become of me??
[Pause.]
MADDISON: Well, actually, madam, maybe we may be of some assistance here.
ISOLDE: You??
MADDISON: Yes, we. [To TOM.] May we ask you a few questions, sir?
TOM: Why?
MORTON: Your name is Settle, is it not?
TOM: Yes. Tom Settle.
ISOLDE [surprised]: I'm sorry?
MADDISON: Married or single?
TOM: Really, I don't see what business it is of yours---
MORTON: Married or single?
TOM: Single.
MADDISON: Age?
TOM: Forty-six.
MORTON: And by any chance does the name… Isolde… mean anything to you?
[Pause.]
TOM: Get out!
MADDISON: Oh, it does, then?
TOM: If you just want to mock me, then you can just… get out!
[ISOLDE steps forward.]
ISOLDE: … Tom?
TOM [turns, angry]: Yes??
ISOLDE: Don't you recognise me?
TOM: Why should I recognise…? [Pause; he looks again.] Oh, it isn't….??
ISOLDE: Isolde Mulvaney. But I was Isolde Flack in those days.
TOM: It can't be--Isolde was beautiful! [Realises; he is ashamed of himself.] Oh, I'm sorry. [Looks again.] It is you, isn't it?
ISOLDE: It is, Tom. Not so beautiful these days.
TOM: Isolde, after all these years…. Why did you desert me?
ISOLDE: Because I was young and cruel, Tom. That's why. Did it hurt you?
TOM: Hurt? Oh, well…. Not so much after the first five years. And after all… maybe I was young and cruel too.
ISOLDE: Maybe. Just a little.
TOM: You got married, didn't you?
ISOLDE: Yes.
TOM: And your husband?
ISOLDE: Dead.
TOM: Oh, good! I mean--
ISOLDE: I know what you mean.
[Pause.]
Well?
TOM: Hmm?
ISOLDE: Don't you want to say anything?
TOM: Well… er…. [He is attracted to her but also afraid. Determined effort] Isolde…..
ISOLDE [briefly in the maidenly role]: Yes?
TOM:……… well…….
ISOLDE [impatient, snapping out of it]: Oh, let me do it! Are you free tomorrow evening?
TOM: Yes.
ISOLDE: Good! Dinner sound good to you?
TOM [enthusiastic]: Oh, yes!
ISOLDE: Same here. Meet me at Pierre's at eight. Right?
TOM: Right!
ISOLDE: Good, that's settled.
TOM: Oh, Isolde! You're….
ISOLDE: Yes?
TOM: You're beautiful!
DUET.--TOM and ISOLDE.
TOM: They say our day has passed us by,
But that I do deny;
Such
bluster must be called a lie,
And here's the reason why:
A young man's
rich in innocence;
He makes mistakes in consequence;
With age comes
sage experience--
And that's the reason why!
BOTH: For every passing year, my dear,
We mustn't shed a tear, my
dear,
The love we lost is here, my dear,
And that's the reason why!
ISOLDE: My mind's inclined to deify
Each passing fancy guy;
Careering years have hurried by
And now I'm much more sly---
A pretty
boy will bring you pain,
Will flirt and, hurting, flirt again:
The
steady head is old and plain--
And so for you I sigh!
BOTH: We're older than we were, my love,
And therefore more mature,
my love;
I do declare that you're my love,
And here's the reason
why….
[A kiss.]
And here's the reason why!
[Longer
kiss.]
PHILIPPA [as the kiss continues]: Mother. [Pause; she touches ISOLDE's arm.] Mother!
ISOLDE [turning to her reluctantly]: Yes, dear?
PHILIPPA: What are you doing??
ISOLDE [to TOM]: Really, for a married woman she is very ignorant.
PHILIPPA [shocked]: Mother!!
HARRY: Excuse me, ma'am, but I've an important question. Are you going to marry Tom?
ISOLDE: It seems more than likely.
HARRY: Tom, you haven't proposed yet??
TOM: Not in the last five minutes, no.
HARRY: Well, go on, then! Get it sorted out!
TOM: What, now?
HARRY: Yes, now! The sooner the better.
TOM: …. Er, Isolde, will you----?
ISOLDE: Yes, Tom, I will.
TOM: Good lord, that's wonderful!
HARRY: Right, that's that sorted out. Now. [To ISOLDE] This being the situation…. When are you going to move out of our house?
ISOLDE: When I marry, of course.
HARRY: I don't approve of long engagements….
TOM: Yes, but….
HARRY: Go down to the church tomorrow, Tom, get it arranged!
TOM: Really, Harry, I know you're my best friend, but I don't see why I should….
ISOLDE: Don't you?
[Pause.]
TOM: I'll sort it out tomorrow.
ISOLDE: Darling!
[ISOLDE & TOM embrace; HARRY & PHILIPPA embrace. MADDISON and MORTON step forward.]
MADDISON: Well, it seems our work is done here.
MORTON: And a very satisfactory outcome as well, if I may say so, Maddison.
MADDISON: You may say so, Morton, and so may I.
MORTON: Oh, thank you, Maddison.
MADDISON & MORTON [together]: A very satisfactory outcome!
MADDISON: Husband reunited to wife?
MORTON: Check!
MADDISON: Mother no longer a dog in the manger?
MORTON: Check!
MADDISON: Two long-sundered lovers brought together again?
MORTON: Check!
MADDISON: And our payment for this exercise in spreading sweetness and light?
MORTON: Check?
ISOLDE: It's in the post!
FINALE.
TOM: Look at me, a single man,
Shuffling through a lonely life,
Marking out my threescore span
Aching for a long lost wife!
All
that pain is over now,
Happiness shall be my spur:
Pledged to take
the marriage vow--
Now you see I'm stuck with her!
ISOLDE [interrupting]: No!
That's not what he meant to
say--
How we hope that we may stay
Married to our dying day!
BOTH: How we hope that we may stay
Married to our dying day!
HARRY: The sins and strife of the past are past,
Our private bliss
approaches fast,
Your mother's moving out at last--
The prospect is
divine!
PHILIPPA: How I rejoice to see her joy!
We may be Fate's uncertain
toy,
But Love's a thing Fate can't destroy,
So take your hand in
mine!
ALL: Our hearts sing out, the farce is done,
For one and one make
two make one--
With pride denied, suspicion slain,
We don with joy
the marriage chain!
Let cynics sneer--
We have no fear,
The
cynic's loss is lover's gain!
CURTAIN.