Lyre and Lancet: A Story in Scenes. Anstey F.
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Название: Lyre and Lancet: A Story in Scenes
Автор: Anstey F.
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная драматургия
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Phillipson (highly amused). You are a comical little man. You'll be the death of me if you go on like that!
Undershell (alone). I feel disposed to be the death of somebody! Oh, Lady Maisie Mull, to what a bathos have you lured your poet by your artless flattery – a banquet presided over by your aunt's butler!
PART VII
IGNOTUM PRO MIRIFICO
The Amber Boudoir at Wyvern immediately after Lady Cantire and her daughter have entered.
Lady Cantire (in reply to Lady Culverin). Tea? oh yes, my dear; anything warm! I'm positively perished – that tedious cold journey and the long drive afterwards! I always tell Rupert he would see me far oftener at Wyvern if he would only get the company to bring the line round close to the park gates, but it has no effect upon him! (As Tredwell announces Spurrell, who enters in trepidation.) Mr. James Spurrell! Who's Mr. – ? Oh, to be sure; that's the name of my interesting young poet —Andromeda, you know, my dear! Go and be pleasant to him, Albinia, he wants reassuring.
Lady Culverin (a trifle nervous). How do you do, Mr. – ah – Spurrell? (To herself.) I said he ended in "ell"! (Aloud.) So pleased to see you! We think so much of your Andromeda here, you know. Quite delightful of you to find time to run down!
Spurrell (to himself). Why, she's chummy, too! Old Drummy pulls me through everything! (Aloud.) Don't name it, my la – hum – Lady Culverin. No trouble at all; only too proud to get your summons!
Lady Culverin (to herself). He doesn't seem very revolutionary! (Aloud.) That's so sweet of you; when so many must be absolutely fighting to get you!
Spurrell. Oh, as for that, there is rather a run on me just now, but I put everything else aside for you, of course!
Lady Culverin (to herself). He's soon reassured. (Aloud, with a touch of frost.) I am sure we must consider ourselves most fortunate. (Turning to the Countess.) You did say cream, Rohesia? Sugar, Maisie dearest?
Spurrell (to himself). I'm all right up to now! I suppose I'd better say nothing about the horse till they do. I feel rather out of it among these nobs, though. I'll try and chum on to little Lady Maisie again; she may have got over her temper by this time, and she's the only one I know. (He approaches her.) Well, Lady Maisie, here I am, you see. I'd really no idea your aunt would be so friendly! I say, you know, you don't mind speaking to a fellow, do you? I've no one else I can go to – and – and it's a bit strange at first, you know!
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