Priestley Plays Four (18 page)

MARTIN:
(Calling.)
Jenny!

JENNY hesitates, turns and looks round in rather bewildered fashion. MARTIN calls more anxiously
.

Jenny Villiers!

But she has gone off L. now and her light too
.

Light up on the desk now. MARTIN turns and looks at it, and then comes slowly down. Door R. opens now, showing strong white light and OTLEY looks in
.

OTLEY: Were you calling me, Mr. Cheveril?

MARTIN:
(Confused.)
What? No, I don’t think so. I mean, I’m sure I wasn’t.

OTLEY:
(Dubiously.)
I thought I heard you calling – that’s all.

MARTIN: I must have been dreaming…

OTLEY: You’re sure you’re alright, Mr. Cheveril? You don’t want me to get hold of Dr. Cave?

MARTIN: No, of course not… I’m all right, thanks… I must have dozed off.

OTLEY: Well, I won’t disturb you – until your London call comes through.

He closes door
.

MARTIN settles down in his chair, and takes up the booklet
.

MARTIN:
(Staring at the title page.) Jenny Villiers… A Memoir and a Tribute…by Augustus Ponsonby Esquite… Honorary Secretary of the Barton Spa Shakespearean Society… (He gets up, feeling restless.)

PONSONBY and STOKES have now entered secretly. PONSONBY is an absurd but rather charming little middle-aged bachelor
.

PONSONBY:
(Speaking in darkness.)
Yes, sir. Augustus Ponsonby –

MARTIN:
(Staring, astounded.)
What?

Light now comes up on PONSONBY
.

PONSONBY: Augustus Ponsonby… Honorary Secretary of the Barton Spa Shakepearean Society…and inveterate and most enthusiastic playgoer, sir…

MARTIN:
(Who has moved forward.)
No doubt you were. But you’re not my idea of a ghost, my friend.

PONSONBY: Well known in the town – and no doubt known to you, I trust, as a staunch supporter of Mr. Ludlow’s talented company here.

Light now comes up on STOKES too
.

STOKES: Heard of you often, Mr. Ponsonby. I’m John Stokes. You must have seen me often.

PONSONBY: Of course, of course, Mr. Stokes. Delighted to make your acquaintance. I cannot imagine what the company would do without you – such versatility, such strength and experience!

STOKES: An old actor, Mr. Ponsonby. After more than forty-five years, a man learns how to carry himself through five acts – and a farce –

PONSONBY: And carry other people too sometimes, eh, Mr. Stokes! Ha, ha, ha! You’ve seen some great nights in the theatre, I imagine, sir?

STOKES: I have, sir. And they’ll never come again. In my time, Mr. Ponsonby, I’ve played with Edmund Kean, Charles Kemble, Liston, Mrs. Golver, Fanny Kelly –

MR. PONSONBY: Great names, Mr. Stokes!

STOKES: The Theatre was
the
theatre in those days, Mr. Ponsonby! It was all the public had, and so we all did our best with it. None of your panoramas and dioramas and Apollonicons, and the rest of them then. It was the
Theatre
and the Theatre as it ought to be. Now they’ll do to anything, just a rage for silly amusement, Mr. Ponsonby, – and it’s all money, money, money. I tell you, sir, the Theatre’s dying – and though it may last out my time, thank God – I don’t give it very much longer. The old spirit’s gone – the plays aren’t the same, the audiences aren’t the same, the actors aren’t the same –

PONSONBY: No doubt you’re right Mr. Stokes. As an amateur, I wouldn’t venture to quarrel with your experience. Yet I called here specially this morning to tell Mr. Ludlow that many of us amateurs and patrons here wish to congratulate him on his company’s new acquisition, Miss Villiers.

STOKES: I’m glad to hear you say so, Mr. Ponsonby. And Mr. Ludlow will be glad too. Miss Villiers has only been with us a few weeks, but we’re all very pleased with her. Plenty to learn yet, of course – that’s only natural – and I’ve given her a few pointers myself – she’s apt to be restless, and won’t keep her head still – but genuine talent there, sir, and a most pleasing personality – ambition of the right kind, too – a young lady with a fine future, sir. At least, if the Theatre had a future, which I doubt.

PONSONBY: Would it be possible for us to see Miss Villiers in some leading Shakespearean roles?

STOKES: Rehearsing ’em now, sir – rehearsing ’em now. In fact – well, here they are –

The light opens out, golden as before, and JENNY, JULIAN and WALTER KETTLE enter, all with some prompt books
.

JULIAN:
(Heartily.)
Hallo, Ponsonby! You’re not supposed to be in here in this time of day!

PONSONBY: I was looking for Mr. Ludlow –

JULIAN: He’ll be round at the Lion.

STOKES: I’ll take you there, Mr. Ponsonby.

JULIAN: Jenny, may I introduce Mr. Augustus Ponsonby – one of our most enthusiastic patrons –

PONSONBY:
(Bowing.)
And also one of your greatest admirers, Miss Villiers –

JENNY:
(Modestly.)
I’m afraid I haven’t done anything here yet worth admiring, Mr. Ponsonby. But perhaps soon – with any luck –

KETtLE: It’s not luck, but hard work. And we ought to be working now. You’ll have to excuse us, Mr. Ponsonby.

PONSONBY:
(Perturbed.)
Oh – yes – of course – I’m so sorry –

STOKES: Come along, we’ll go round to the Lion. You don’t want me for an hour, do you, Walter?

After bowing again, PONSONBY goes out upstage R. with STOKES
.

JENNY: Rather a sweet little man.

JULIAN: He’s a pompous little ass really – but he runs some sort of Shakespearean Society – and they’re good for a hundred seats on a benefit night.

KETTLE:
(Sharply.)
He may be rather pompous, but he’s not an ass – and something better than a buyer of seats for benefit nights.

JENNY:
(Smiling at him.)
Mr. Kettle, you’re very bad-tempered this morning. What’s the matter?

KETTLE:
(With the misery of a man in love.)
I’m sorry, Miss Villiers…too much work, probably… I didn’t mean…

JULIAN:
(Carelessly.)
Well, you needn’t work here, Walter. You can go down to the stage. I can take Jenny through our scenes. That’s why we’re here.

KETTLE:
(Miserably.)
I don’t know about that –

JULIAN:
(Haughtily.)
What? Are you insinuating that I’m not competent to take Miss Villiers through scene I’ve plays hundreds of times? You – ?

JENNY:
(With reproach suggesting familiarity.)
Julian – please!
(Smiling at KETTLE)
I knew how busy you are, Mr. Kettle – and I did ask Julian specially –

KETTLE:
(Roughly.)
No, you didn’t. I overheard
him
asking you –

JENNY: I was going to ask him.

JULIAN: But I was first, that’s all.

JULIAN and JENNY suddenly look at each other, and it is clear that they are in love. KETTLE, seeing this look, turns away. He is now very near MARTIN standing on edge of light. The scene is now frozen
.

MARTIN:
(Quietly, to KETTLE.)
So you were in love with her too? And hadn’t a chance. Hoped to teach her all you know about acting – and I have an idea you were the man here who did now – and probably did teach her, too but never had a chance. I wish I could talk to you properly Walter Kettle, there’s something of
me
in you. I know exactly what you’re feeling. And it’ll soon be worse for you, much worse, poor devil. Go on, there’s nothing you can do.

This re-animates the scene. KETTLE turns and looks from JULIAN to JENNY
.

KETTLE:
(Bitterly.)
All right. I’ll leave you. You have your prompt books?

JULIAN: Yes, though I doubt if we shall need them.

KETTLE:
(Walking away upstage, then L..)
I doubt it too.

JENNY and JULIAN now use the area upstage R.. They are watched by MARTIN
.

JULIAN: Let’s go straight to Act Two, Scene Four, after the music. Ready?
(He becomes the Duke, acting in rotund style.)
‘Come hither, boy –’

JENNY: I cross there – um?

JULIAN: Yes. Not too quick. Now then –

‘Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
In the sweet pangs of it remember me.
For such as I am all true lovers are –
Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
Save in the constant image of the creature
That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?’

JENNY:
(As Viola.)

‘It give a very echo to the seat
Where Love is throned.’

JULIAN:
(As the Duke.)

‘Thou dost speak masterly:
My life upon’t, young though thou art, thine eye
Hath stay’d upon some favour that it loves:
Hath it not, boy?’

JENNY: ‘A little, by your favour –’

(Breaking off.)
Oh, Julian – please – don’t look at me like that.

JULIAN:
(Seizing her hands.)
How can I help it? And what does it matter?

JENNY: Because – oh – we ought to work – we oughtn’t to be thinking about ourselves.

JULIAN:
(Triumphantly.)
So that’s what you were thinking too!

JENNY: No – I don’t mean –

JULIAN: Yes, you do. And you can’t help it either!
(Putting his arms around her, whispering.)
My darling Jenny – my sweet, sweet Jenny – I love you – I worship you – I can think only about you!

JENNY:
(Overcome.)
Julian – you hardly know me yet –

JULIAN: I’ve known you for ever. And don’t call me just Julian – dearest!

JENNY:
(Whispering.)
Dearest! I think – I love you too.

He slowly lifts up her face, her arms creep round him, and they are about to kiss
.

MARTIN:
(Harshly.)
No, no, no!

The light goes at once, leaving JENNY and JULIAN in darkness and only a tiny sport on MARTIN. The desk light downstage L. went long ago. There is the loud rushing wind sound, with music, both of which go quieter as MARTIN speaks again
.

It’s cold. I’m not even in that Green Room now, not even in the theatre…outside somewhere…old streets…ghosts…or am I the ghost now?

Sound of horse and carriage comes nearer, then dies away again. Wind and music rise again
.

No, stop – stop! Where is she? What’s happening to her?

Light begins to come up on next small set in alcove R., which shows corner of a rather drab sitting-room of the period. It is late at night, and the 1
^ST
ACTRESS, wearing curlpapers and yawning is listening to JENNY rehearse her Viola speeches. We hear JENNY’s voice, speaking first lines before we see her. MARTIN stays centre downstage
.

JENNY: ‘I see you what you are – you are too proud;
But if you were the Devil, you are fair.
My lord and master loves you; O, such love
Could be but recompensed, though you were crown’d
The nonpareil of beauty!’

1
^ST
ACTRESS:
(Yawningly.)
‘How does he love me?’

JENNY: ‘With adorations, with fertile tears…’ No, that’s not right, is it?

1
^ST
ACTRESS:
(Indifferent.)
Sounds all right to me, dear.

JENNY: No, it isn’t. I remember now –

‘With adorations, with fertile tears,
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.’

(Impatiently, as the other does not follow.)
Go on!

1
^ST
ACTRESS: D’you know what time it is? Nearly two o’clock.

JENNY:
(Half impatient, half apologetic.)
What does that matter? No, I’m sorry – Sarah darling – I know you’re tired – but I must go through it again. Now then –

1
^ST
ACTRESS: ‘Your Lord does know’ – so and so and so ‘might have took his answer long ago.’
(Yawns again.)

JENNY: ‘If I did love you in my master’s flame,
With such a suffering, such a deadly love,
In your denial I would find no sense;
I would not understand it.’

1
^ST
ACTRESS: ‘Why, what would you?’

JENNY: ‘Make me a willow cabin at you gate,
And call upon my soul within the house –’

MARTIN:
(Quietly.)
No, not like that, my dear.

JENNY: No, that isn’t right.

‘Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons of contemned love,
And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
Holla your name to the reverberate hills,
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out, Olivia! Oh, you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me!’

1
^ST
ACTRESS: Pity me, you mean. Keeping me up until this time! I don’t know why you should want to bother –

JENNY: Because I must – I must – there’s so little time –

MARTIN:
(Like a sad echo.)
So little time…

1
^ST
ACTRESS: I suppose you and Julian have been spooning instead of rehearsing –

JENNY:
(Gasping.)
Sarah!

1
^ST
ACTRESS: Oh everybody knows about you two. Talk about babbling gossip of the air –

JENNY: No, Sarah, don’t – please don’t talk. I’ll go back…

Lights now begins to fade
.

JENNY: ‘Oh you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me.’

Music has come in and light have been fading. Sound of wind, not too loud. Now light comes up on L. alcove, where deak, etc., have now gone. In the alcove is a small bar set, with cosy corner of counter, bottle and comic fat landlord behind. LUDLOW and a rather seedy JOURNALIST are having drinks. MARTIN can be off stage during this scene
.

JOURNALIST:
(Raising glass.)
Your health, Mr. Ludlow.

LUDLOW: Same here. Now, what you want to say is something like this. Um – let me see. ‘Following the phenomenal and unprecedented success of Miss Villiers, and – er –’

JOURNALIST:
(Making easy notes.)
… ‘at the special request of many distinguished patrons’