Plays: Lady Frederick, The Explorer, A Man of Honour. W. Somerset Maugham

wise in ten years.

      Gerald.

      I'm quite sure I shall.

      Rose.

      Why, then, I'm afraid we shan't cultivate any great brilliancy of repartee.

      Gerald.

      Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever.

      Rose.

      Oh, don't say that. When a man's in love, he at once makes a pedestal of the Ten Commandments and stands on the top of them with his arms akimbo. When a woman's in love she doesn't care two straws for Thou Shalt and Thou Shalt Not.

      Gerald.

      When a woman's in love she can put her heart on the slide of a microscope and examine how it beats. When a man's in love, what do you think he cares for science and philosophy and all the rest of it!

      Rose.

      When a man's in love he can only write sonnets to the moon. When a woman's in love she can still cook his dinner and darn her own stockings.

      Gerald.

      I wish you wouldn't cap all my observations.

      [She lifts up her face, and he kisses her lips.

      Rose.

      I'm beginning to think you're rather nice, you know.

      Gerald.

      That's reassuring, at all events.

      Rose.

      But no one could accuse you of being a scintillating talker.

      Gerald.

      Have you ever watched the lovers in the Park sitting on the benches hour after hour without saying a word?

      Rose.

      Why?

      Gerald.

      Because I've always thought that they must be bored to the verge of tears. Now I know they're only happy.

      Rose.

      You're certainly my soldier, so I suppose I'm your nursery-maid.

      Gerald.

      You know, when I was at Trinity College, Dublin——

      Rose.

      [Interrupting.] Were you there? I thought you went to Oxford.

      Gerald.

      No, why?

      Rose.

      Only all my people go to Magdalen.

      Gerald.

      Yes.

      Rose.

      And I've decided that if I ever have a son he shall go there too.

      [The Admiral starts and pulls the handkerchief off his face. The others do not notice him. He is aghast and astounded at the conversation. Lady Frederick comes in later and stands smiling as she listens.

      Gerald.

      My darling, you know I hate to thwart you in any way, but I've quite made up my mind that my son shall go to Dublin as I did.

      Rose.

      I'm awfully sorry, Gerald, but the boy must be educated like a gentleman.

      Gerald.

      There I quite agree, Rose, but first of all he's an Irishman, and it's right that he should be educated in Ireland.

      Rose.

      Darling Gerald, a mother's love is naturally the safest guide in these things.

      Gerald.

      Dearest Rose, a father's wisdom is always the most reliable.

      Lady Frederick.

      Pardon my interfering, but—aren't you just a little previous?

      Admiral.

      [Bursting out.] Did you ever hear such a conversation in your life between a young unmarried couple?

      Rose.

      My dear papa, we must be prepared for everything.

      Admiral.

      In my youth young ladies did not refer to things of that sort.

      Lady Frederick.

      Well, I don't suppose they're any the worse for having an elementary knowledge of natural history. Personally I doubt whether ignorance is quite the same thing as virtue, and I'm not quite sure that a girl makes a better wife because she's been brought up like a perfect fool.

      Admiral.

      I am old-fashioned, Lady Frederick; and my idea of a modest girl is that when certain topics are mentioned she should swoon. Swoon, madam, swoon. They always did it when I was a lad.

      Rose.

      Well, father, I've often tried to faint when I wanted something that you wouldn't give me, and I've never been able to manage it. So I'm sure I couldn't swoon.

      Admiral.

      And with regard to this ridiculous discussion as to which University your son is to be sent, you seem to forget that I have the right to be consulted.

      Gerald.

      My dear Admiral, I don't see how it can possibly matter to you.

      Admiral.

      And before we go any further I should like you to know that the very day Rose was born I determined that her son should go to Cambridge.

      Rose.

      My dear papa, I think Gerald and I are far and away the best judges of our son's welfare.

      Admiral.

      The boy must work, Rose. I will have no good-for-nothing as my grandson.

      Gerald.

      Exactly. And that is why I'm resolved he shall go to Dublin.

      Rose.

      The important thing is that he should have really nice manners, and that they teach at Oxford if they teach nothing else.

      Lady Frederick.

      Well, don't you think you'd better wait another twenty years or so before you discuss this?

      Admiral.

      There are some matters which must be settled at once, Lady Frederick.

      Lady Frederick.

      You know, young things are fairly independent nowadays. I don't know what they'll be in twenty years' time.

      Gerald.

      The first thing the boy shall learn is obedience.

      Rose. Certainly. There's nothing so hateful as a disobedient child.

      Admiral.

      I can't see my grandson venturing to disobey me.

      Lady Frederick.

      Then you're all agreed. So that's settled. I came to tell you your carriage was ready.

      Admiral.

      Go and put on your bonnet, Rose. [To Lady Frederick.] Are you coming with us?

      Lady Frederick.

      I'm afraid I can't. Au revoir.

      Admiral.

      A tout à l'heure.

      [He and Rose go out.

      Gerald.

      Have you ever seen in your life any one so entirely delightful as Rose?