Green Stockings: A Comedy in Three Acts. Mason Alfred Edward Woodley

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СКАЧАТЬ (Eagerly) Oh, Celia, you don't really mind, do you? Just because you can't-I mean, because you don't want to-get married, you won't try to stop Bobby and me, will you?

      Celia. (In a hurt tone) Phyllis-dear-

      Phyllis. (Relieved) I knew you wouldn't. I told Bobby-!

      Celia. And do you mean to say that Mr. Tarver- (Controlling herself with effort) Phyllis, dear- You ought to know-by now-there isn't anything I wouldn't do to make my littlest sister happy. (Patting Phyllis on cheek.)

      Phyllis. (Carelessly engrossed in her own affairs) Oh, of course, I know that. But, Celia, you're quite mistaken and unjust about poor Bobby.

      Celia. (Smiling, rather bitterly) Oh-I hope not, Phyllis. I-can't stand-injustice!

      Phyllis. (Kneeling on stool R.C.) But you are! In spite of all his worries and preoccupations about his election, Bobby takes the greatest interest in you, Celia-

      Celia. (Crosses C. Smiles ironically) Yes?

      Phyllis. I tell you he does! (Forgetting herself in her zeal) As soon as he has time, Bobby means to do everything he can to get Admiral Grice to propose to you!

      Celia. (Recoiling) What!!

      Phyllis. (Crestfallen) Oh-I oughtn't to have told you, I suppose. But it's true, all the same. (Reproachfully) You don't appreciate Bobby's noble nature, Celia. You don't know how Bobby realizes your-your loneliness, Celia. Unless you could hear him talk about you, you'd never guess how much darling Bobby pities you.

      Celia. (In a changed voice) Phyllis. One moment, please- (With an effort at calm) Do you mean to say that you and-and Mr. Tarver have been-been discussing-me? Oh! (Clenching her handkerchief.)

      Phyllis. Not discussing– (Self-righteously) Bobby would not discuss anybody. But-you see, Celia, we were all-Aunt Ida and all of us-talking, just in fun, about your having to wear Green Stockings once more at my wedding, and Bobby-(Laughs to herself) Darling Bobby, is so witty-!

      Celia. Oh, yes-go on, Phyllis.

      Phyllis. (Injured) Well, but he is.

      Celia. Oh, yes-yes-

      Phyllis. And so Bobby was just being most awfully sweet and sympathetic about your-your position.

      Celia. My position-! (Between her teeth) My-position! And so Mr. Robert Tarver was kind enough to express concern, was he-because there was no possible chance of any decent man ever wanting to marry me?

      Phyllis. (Half frightened) Oh, Celia! (Rises.)

      Celia. And he makes jokes about my stockings. (Goes L. to chair R. of table L. and stands beside it.) I can hear his jokes!

      Phyllis. Oh, Celia! Bobby is witty.

      Celia. (Ironically) Yes, very.

      Faraday. (In card room) I don't think much of that, Admiral.

      Grice. (In card room) You don't? What's the matter with it?

      (These last two lines are spoken hurriedly, almost together in card room, as Celia's expression conveys to the audience her sudden determination to invent her story.)

      Celia. (With entire change of manner) Call him down here, Phyllis, please, and tell him I want to speak to him.

      Phyllis. Celia! (Crossing to center) But why?

      Celia. Oh, nothing. I only want to thank him, you know, about old Admiral Grice, and tell him that he need no longer complicate his anxiety about his election with worries about me or the color of my stockings.

      Phyllis. (Startled) Why, Celia-what do you mean?

      Celia. Well, you see-(Laughs) – I am not quite accustomed to announcing-my engagement.

      Phyllis. (With undisguised amazement. Haltingly) Your engagement? Why-it's impossible.

      Celia. Yes, that's what Mr. Tarver says. Well, now suppose we call him down here, Phyllis, and tell him he is mistaken.

      Phyllis. Oh-Ce-lia! (Embraces Celia gushingly. Rushes up to Tarver and calling) Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby! (Tarver drops his magazine, Phyllis drags him down R. of Celia. He is right of Phyllis.) What do you think? Celia's engaged to be married.

      Tarver. (Looks at her, greatly astonished, dropping his eyeglass) Never!

      Celia. (Sarcastically) Thanks so much, Mr. Tarver, for your kind congratulations.

      Phyllis. (Who has run up to card room, calling) Aunt Ida, Aunt Ida!

      (Tarver pauses a moment and then goes R., looking over at Celia incredulously as he goes. He finally sits on fender.)

      Celia. (Calling up to Phyllis) Oh, Phyllis, I only meant to tell you and Mr. Tarver.

      Phyllis. (Excitedly. Bringing down Aunt Ida extreme L.) Aunt Ida! Celia is engaged to be married.

      Aunt Ida. (Coming down left of table and below table to Celia. Smiling happily) Darling-at last- (Kisses Celia.)

      Phyllis. (Dances across to center) I can be married now. I can be married now. (Runs across to Madge and sits on piano stool.)

      Aunt Ida. I knew that this would happen.

      Celia. Did you, Aunt Ida? (These last two lines spoken hurriedly and together.)

      Phyllis. Madge, what do you think? Celia is engaged.

      Madge. (Rises, drops her pen in blank surprise) Not really!

      (Phyllis runs to Bobby , who is on fender, and they sit together, talking excitedly, and looking at Celia.)

      Faraday. (Entering from card room. Testily) Now then, now then, can't you girls make a little less noise?

      Madge. Oh, Father! (Rushes to him, brings him C. She is R. of him.) What do you think has happened? Celia is engaged to be married. (Pauses a moment to listen to ensuing dialogue and then runs up to card room and in dumb show tells others of Celia's engagement. They also in pantomime express surprise and incredulity. They come slowly out of card room.)

      Faraday. God-bless-my-soul! (A broad grin breaks slowly on his face) Celia-engaged?

      Celia. Why, yes, Father, if you have no objection to the prospect of my leaving you.

      Faraday. Objection? (Joyfully) Why, I'm delighted, my dear girl, delighted.

      (Aunt Ida and Celia exchange glances and Aunt Ida, disgusted at Faraday, goes up to card room and talks to Evelyn.)

      Celia. Yes, Father, I thought you would be pleased.

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