The Greatest Plays of William Somerset Maugham. Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

      [Getting up.] I'm going out on the balcony. I'm passionately devoted to chimney-pots.

      Mabel.

      No, John, I want you.

      John.

      Why?

      Mabel.

      Isn't it enough for me to say I want you for you to hurl yourself at my feet immediately?

      John.

      Oh, you poor thing, can't you do without me for two minutes?

      Mabel.

      Now you're taking a mean advantage. It's only this particular two minutes that I want you. Come and sit by me like a nice, dear boy.

      John.

      Now what have you been doing that you shouldn't?

      Mabel.

      [Laughing.] Nothing. But I want you to do something for me.

      John.

      Ha, ha! I thought so.

      Mabel.

      It's merely to tie up my shoe. [She puts out her foot.]

      John.

      Is that all—honour bright?

      Mabel.

      [Laughing.] Yes. [John kneels down.]

      John.

      But, my good girl, it's not undone.

      Mabel.

      Then, my good boy, undo it and do it up again.

      John.

      [Starting up.] Mabel, are we playing gooseberry—at our time of life?

      Mabel.

      [Ironically.] Oh, you are clever! Do you think Hilda would have climbed six flights of stairs unless Love had lent her wings?

      John.

      I wish Love would provide wings for the chaperons as well.

      Mabel.

      Don't be flippant. It's a serious matter.

      John.

      My dear girl, you really can't expect me to play the heavy father when we've only been married six months. It would be almost improper.

      Mabel.

      Don't be horrid, John.

      John.

      It isn't horrid, it's natural history.

      Mabel.

      [Primly.] I was never taught it. It's not thought nice for young girls to know.

      John.

      Why didn't you tell me that Hilda was fond of Basil! Does he like her?

      Mabel.

      I don't know. I expect that's precisely what she's asking him.

      John.

      Mabel, do you mean to say you brought me here, an inoffensive, harmless creature, for your sister to propose to a pal of mine? It's an outrage.

      Mabel.

      She's doing nothing of the sort.

      John.

      You needn't look indignant. You can't deny that you proposed to me.

      Mabel.

      I can, indeed. If I had I should never have taken such an unconscionably long time about it.

      John.

      I wonder why Hilda wants to marry poor Basil!

      Mabel.

      Well, Captain Murray left her five thousand a year, and she thinks Basil Kent a genius.

      John.

      There's not a drawing-room in Regent's Park or in Bayswater that hasn't got its tame genius. I don't know if Basil Kent is much more than very clever.

      Mabel.

      Anyhow, I'm sure it's a mistake to marry geniuses. They're horribly bad-tempered, and they invariably make love to other people's wives.

      John.

      Hilda always has gone in for literary people. That's the worst of marrying a cavalryman, it leads you to attach so much importance to brains.

      Mabel.

      Yes, but she needn't marry them. If she wants to encourage Basil let her do it from a discreet distance. Genius always thrives best on bread and water and platonic attachments. If Hilda marries him he'll only become fat and ugly and bald-headed and stupid.

      John.

      Why, then he'll make an ideal Member of Parliament.

      [Basil and Hilda come into the room again.

      Mabel.

      [Maliciously.] Well, what have you been talking about?

      Hilda.

      [Acidly.] The weather and the crops, Shakespeare and the Musical Glasses.

      Mabel.

      [Raising her eyebrows.] Oh!

      Hilda.

      It's getting very late, Mabel. We really must be going.

      Mabel.

      [Getting up.] And I've got to pay at least twelve calls. I hope every one will be out.

      Hilda.

      People are so stupid, they're always in when you call.

      Mabel.

      [Holding out her hand to Basil.] Good-bye.

      Hilda.

      [Coldly.] Thanks so much, Mr. Kent. I'm afraid we disturbed you awfully.

      Basil.

      [Shaking hands with her.] I've been enchanted to see you. Good-bye.

      Mabel.

      [Lightly.] We shall see you again before you go to Italy, shan't we?

      Basil.

      Oh, I'm not going to Italy now, I've changed all my plans.

      Mabel.

      [Giving John a look.] Oh! Well, good-bye. Aren't you coming, John.

      John.

      No: I think I'll stay and have a little chat with Basil, while you tread the path of duty.

      Mabel.

      Well, mind you're in early. We've got a lot of disgusting people coming to dinner.

      Hilda.

      [With a smile.] Poor things! Who are they?

      Mabel.

      I forget who they are. But I know they're loathsome. That's why I asked them.

      [Basil opens the door, and the two women go out.

      John.

      [Sitting down and stretching himself.] Now that we've got rid of our womankind let's make ourselves comfortable. [Taking a pipe out of his pocket.] I think I'll sample your baccy if you'll pass it along.

      Basil.

      [Handing him the jar.] I'm rather glad you stayed, John. I wanted to talk to you.

      John.

      Ha! ha!

      [Basil pauses a moment, while John looks at him with amusement. He fills his pipe.

      John.

      [Lighting his pipe.] Nice gal,