The Admirable Crichton | Page 9

But why not?
FISHER. If it pleases his lordship to offer it to her before offering it to
me--
AGATHA. So that is it. Do you want another cup of tea, Fisher?
FISHER. No, my lady--but my position--I should have been asked first.

AGATHA. Oh dear.
(All this has taken some time, and by now the feeble appetites of the
uncomfortable guests have been satiated. But they know there is still
another ordeal to face--his lordship's monthly speech. Every one awaits
it with misgiving--the servants lest they should applaud, as last time, in
the wrong place, and the daughters because he may be personal about
them, as the time before. ERNEST is annoyed that there should be this
speech at all when there is such a much better one coming, and
BROCKLEHURST foresees the degradation of the peerage. All are
thinking of themselves alone save CRICHTON, who knows his
master's weakness, and fears he may stick in the middle. LORD LOAM,
however, advances cheerfully to his doom. He sees ERNEST'S stool,
and artfully stands on it, to his nephew's natural indignation. The three
ladies knit their lips, the servants look down their noses, and the
address begins.)
LORD LOAM. My friends, I am glad to see you all looking so happy.
It used to be predicted by the scoffer that these meetings would prove
distasteful to you. Are they distasteful? I hear you laughing at the
question.
(He has not heard them, but he hears them now, the watchful
CRICHTON giving them a lead.)
No harm in saying that among us to-day is one who was formerly
hostile to the movement, but who to-day has been won over. I refer to
Lord Brocklehurst, who, I am sure, will presently say to me that if the
charming lady now by his side has derived as much pleasure from his
company as he has derived from hers, he will be more than satisfied.
(All look at TWEENY, who trembles.)
For the time being the artificial and unnatural--I say unnatural (glaring
at CRICHTON, who bows slightly)--barriers of society are swept away.
Would that they could be swept away for ever.
(The PAGEBOY cheers, and has the one moment of prominence in his

life. He grows up, marries and has children, but is never really heard of
again.)
But that is entirely and utterly out of the question. And now for a few
months we are to be separated. As you know, my daughters and Mr.
Ernest and Mr. Treherne are to accompany me on my yacht, on a
voyage to distant parts of the earth. In less than forty-eight hours we
shall be under weigh.
(But for CRICHTON'S eye the reckless PAGEBOY would repeat his
success.)
Do not think our life on the yacht is to be one long idle holiday. My
views on the excessive luxury of the day are well known, and what I
preach I am resolved to practise. I have therefore decided that my
daughters, instead of having one maid each as at present, shall on this
voyage have but one maid between them.
(Three maids rise; also three mistresses.)
CRICHTON. My lord!
LORD LOAM. My mind is made up.
ERNEST. I cordially agree.
LORD LOAM. And now, my friends, I should like to think that there is
some piece of advice I might give you, some thought, some noble
saying over which you might ponder in my absence. In this connection
I remember a proverb, which has had a great effect on my own life. I
first heard it many years ago. I have never forgotten it. It constantly
cheers and guides me. That proverb is--that proverb was-- the proverb I
speak of--
(He grows pale and taps his forehead.)
LADY MARY. Oh dear, I believe he has forgotten it.
LORD LOAM (desperately). The proverb--that proverb to which I

refer--
(Alas, it has gone. The distress is general. He has not even the sense to
sit down. He gropes for the proverb in the air. They try applause, but it
is no help.)
I have it now--(not he).
LADY MARY (with confidence). Crichton.
(He does not fail her. As quietly as if he were in goloshes, mind as well
as feet, he dismisses the domestics; they go according to precedence as
they entered, yet, in a moment, they are gone. Then he signs to MR.
TREHERNE, and they conduct LORD LOAM with dignity from the
room. His hands are still catching flies; he still mutters, 'The
proverb--that proverb'; but he continues, owing to CRICHTON'S
skilful treatment, to look every inch a peer. The ladies have now an
opportunity to air their indignation.)
LADY MARY. One maid among three grown women!
LORD BROCKLEHURST. Mary, I think I had better go. That dreadful
kitchenmaid--
LADY MARY. I can't blame you, George.
(He salutes