The Admirable Crichton | Page 8

your hand, Jane.
CRICHTON. Gladys.
ERNEST. How do you do, Gladys. You know my uncle?
LORD LOAM. Your hand, Gladys.
(He bestows her on AGATHA.)
CRICHTON. Tweeny.
(She is a very humble and frightened kitchenmaid, of whom we are to
see more.)
LORD LOAM. So happy to see you.
FISHER. John, I saw you talking to Lord Brocklehurst just now;
introduce me.
LORD BROCKLEHURST (at the same moment to ERNEST). That's
an uncommon pretty girl; if I must feed one of them, Ernest, that's the
one.
(But ERNEST tries to part him and FISHER as they are about to shake
hands.)
ERNEST. No you don't, it won't do, Brocky. (To Miss FISHER.) You
are too pretty, my dear. Mother wouldn't like it. (Discovering
TWEENY.) Here's something safer. Charming girl, Brocky, dying to
know you; let me introduce you. Tweeny, Lord Brocklehurst--Lord
Brocklehurst, Tweeny.
(BROCKLEHURST accepts his fate; but he still has an eye for
FISHER, and something may come of this.)
LORD LOAM (severely). They are not all here, Crichton.
CRICHTON (with a sigh). Odds and ends.

(A STABLE-BOY and a PAGE are shown in, and for a moment no
daughter of the house advances to them.)
LORD LOAM (with a roving eye on his children). Which is to recite?
(The last of the company are, so to say, embraced.)
LORD LOAM (to TOMPSETT, as they partake of tea together). And
how are all at home?
TOMPSETT. Fairish, my lord, if 'tis the horses you are inquiring for?
LORD LOAM. No, no, the family. How's the baby?
TOMPSETT. Blooming, your lordship.
LORD LOAM. A very fine boy. I remember saying so when I saw him;
nice little fellow.
TOMPSETT (not quite knowing whether to let it pass). Beg pardon,
my lord, it's a girl.
LORD LOAM. A girl? Aha! ha! ha! exactly what I said. I distinctly
remember saying, If it's spared it will be a girl.
(CRICHTON now comes down.)
LORD LOAM. Very delighted to see you, Crichton.
(CRICHTON has to shake hands.)
Mary, you know Mr. Crichton?
(He wanders off in search of other prey.)
LADY MARY. Milk and sugar, Crichton?
CRICHTON. I'm ashamed to be seen talking to you, my lady.

LADY MARY. To such a perfect servant as you all this must be most
distasteful. (CRICHTON is too respectful to answer.) Oh, please do
speak, or I shall have to recite. You do hate it, don't you?
CRICHTON. It pains me, your ladyship. It disturbs the etiquette of the
servants' hall. After last month's meeting the pageboy, in a burst of
equality, called me Crichton. He was dismissed.
LADY MARY. I wonder--I really do--how you can remain with us.
CRICHTON. I should have felt compelled to give notice, my lady, if
the master had not had a seat in the Upper House. I cling to that.
LADY MARY. Do go on speaking. Tell me, what did Mr. Ernest mean
by saying he was not young enough to know everything?
CRICHTON. I have no idea, my lady.
LADY MARY. But you laughed.
CRICHTON. My lady, he is the second son of a peer.
LADY MARY. Very proper sentiments. You are a good soul, Crichton.
LORD BROCKLEHURST (desperately to TWEENY). And now tell
me, have you been to the Opera? What sort of weather have you been
having in the kitchen? (TWEENY gurgles.) For Heaven's sake, woman,
be articulate.
CRICHTON (still talking to LADY MARY). No, my lady; his lordship
may compel us to be equal upstairs, but there will never be equality in
the servants' hall.
LORD LOAM (overhearing this). What's that? No equality? Can't you
see, Crichton, that our divisions into classes are artificial, that if we
were to return to nature, which is the aspiration of my life, all would be
equal?
CRICHTON. If I may make so bold as to contradict your lordship--

LORD LOAM (with an effort). Go on.
CRICHTON. The divisions into classes, my lord, are not artificial.
They are the natural outcome of a civilised society. (To LADY MARY.)
There must always be a master and servants in all civilised
communities, my lady, for it is natural, and whatever is natural is right.
LORD LOAM (wincing). It is very unnatural for me to stand here and
allow you to talk such nonsense.
CRICHTON (eagerly). Yes, my lord, it is. That is what I have been
striving to point out to your lordship.
AGATHA (to CATHERINE). What is the matter with Fisher? She is
looking daggers.
CATHERINE. The tedious creature; some question of etiquette, I
suppose.
(She sails across to FISHER.)
How are you, Fisher?
FISHER (with a toss of her head). I am nothing, my lady, I am nothing
at all.
AGATHA. Oh dear, who says so?
FISHER (affronted). His lordship has asked that kitchen wench to have
a second cup of tea.
CATHERINE.