W. Somerset Maugham

The drawing-room at Taverner, the Parker-Jennings’ place in Cheshire. Large French windows lead out on to the garden. Mrs. Parker-Jennings, magnificently dressed, is standing in the middle of the room. Parker-Jennings comes in, rubbing his hands.

Parker-Jennings.

The band has come, my dear, and they’re ready to start playing the moment any one turns up.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

’Ave you told ’em about the Pomeranian anthem?

Parker-Jennings.

What do you think, my dear?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

I wish you wouldn’t answer me like that. Why don’t you say yes or no? I can’t abide these city ways of yours.

Parker-Jennings.

I was only being facetious, my dear.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

I should ’ave thought you’d learned by now that it’s vulgar to be funny. You’ve never ’eard a duchess make a joke, ’ave you?

Vincent comes in.

Vincent.

I’ve just been round the refreshment tents. There’s one thing, people can’t say we haven’t spread ourselves out.

Parker-Jennings.

[Rubbing his hands.] I ’aven’t spared a single expense. The band’s down from London, and the refreshments are from Gunter’s. There’s not a cigar on the place that cost less than one and six—and that’s the wholesale price.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, we’ve done it well, there’s no denying that. I’ve asked the Withers, Robert. Florrie Withers will be mad with jealousy. I shouldn’t wonder if she didn’t choke with envy when she swallowed a caviar sandwich.

Parker-Jennings.

It was a rare stroke of business when we got the Archduke to come and stay.

Vincent.

That’s through me, pater. You’d never have known him if I hadn’t been on the spot.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

And I’ve asked Lady Wanley. I just want her to see that I can get on without her. All the county’s coming. I sent ’em all cards, whether I knew ’em or not, and they’ve all accepted.

Parker-Jennings.

Don’t you remember, Marion, how bucked we were in the old days when Mrs. Bromsgrove came to dine with us, because her husband was on the L.C.C.?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

I wish she could see me now. D’you remember ’ow she used to patronise me? I wish all that stuck-up lot on Brixton ’ill was here to see us ’ob-nob with the aristocracy.

Parker-Jennings.

It’s the Archduke that done it, my dear.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

What’s Serlo now? Marquis of Serlo—pooh. He isn’t going to get any more opportunities from me—and if he says anything I’ll just send him off with a flea in his ear.

Vincent.

Draw it mild, mater.

Parker-Jennings.

Your mother’s a great woman, Vincent. This is the day of her life.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

I wish I ’adn’t been such a fool as to ask Serlo to stay here. And it’s just like that aggravating girl. When I wanted Ethel to marry him, she wouldn’t so much as look at him, and now that she can have some one else for the asking, she’s with ’im all day.

Vincent.

Well, I’m for the bird in the hand, mater. The Archduke don’t look much like a marrying man to me.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Don’t you worry about that, my dear. Every man’s a marrying man when he’s got a chance of a pretty girl with ’alf a million of money.

Parker-Jennings.

Here she is.

Ethel comes in with Lord Serlo.

Ethel.

The Withers have just motored over, mother.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

They would be first, wouldn’t they? I expect Florrie Withers was waiting on the doorstep till the clock struck four. Where’s his Royal Highness?

Ethel.

I don’t know at all.

Serlo.

He’s asleep in the garden; he’s sittin’ in the most comfortable arm-chair in the place, with another for each of his legs, and he’s clasping in his hands what looks suspiciously like a very long gin and soda to me.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Well, somebody must go and wake him up. I’ve asked ’alf the county to meet him, and he can’t go on sleeping.

Jack Straw comes in.

Jack Straw.

I say, what have you got a beastly band playing the Pomeranian anthem for? Woke me up. I was having such a jolly sleep too.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

[Very affably.] The people are just coming, sir.

Jack Straw.

What people?

Parker-Jennings.

All the very best people in Cheshire, sir—no outsiders to-day. What ho!

Jack Straw.

Good lord, are you giving a party?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Don’t you remember, sir? I asked if I might invite a few friends to meet you.

Jack Straw.

Oh, yes—Lady Wanley and Holland. I thought we might have a jolly little game of bridge in the garden. What have you got the village band in for?

Vincent.

That’s not the village band, sir. That’s the Royal Blue Orchestra.

Parker-Jennings.

Cost me £150 to have them down. Special train from London, and I don’t know what all.

Vincent.

Shut up, pater. You needn’t tell every one how much you paid for things.

Jack Straw.

How many do you expect?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh—only my most intimate friends—about....

Jack Straw.

Yes?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Well, about three hundred and fifty.

Jack Straw.

By George, that’s cheerful. D’you want me to shake hands with them all?

Parker-Jennings.

They’re the very best people in the county, sir. CrÈme de la crÈme.

A servant enters to announce Mr. and Mrs. Withers.
They come in.

Servant.

Mr. and Mrs. Withers.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

How d’you do? It’s so nice of you to come before any one else.

Mrs. Withers.

We know you’re not used to these grand affairs, Maria, and we thought you might want a couple of old friends to do something for you.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, thank you. But there are plenty of servants. May I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Withers to your Royal ’Ighness.

Jack Straw.

How d’you do.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

We were just going into the garden. I daresay people will begin to come presently.

[They all go out except Ethel and Lord Serlo.

Serlo.

I say, I’m going to hook it to-morrow.

Ethel.

Are you? I’m very sorry.

Serlo.

I wish I thought that.

Ethel.

Why are you going so soon?

Serlo.

Your respected mother has given your humble notice to quit.

Ethel.

What do you mean?

Serlo.

Look here, let’s be frank with one another, shall we?

Ethel.

Aren’t we always?

Serlo.

Well, if you ask me point blank, anythin’ but.

Ethel.

Then let us be frank at once.

Serlo.

Well, ten days ago your people were all over me. I suppose you know why as well as I do.

Ethel.

D’you think we need talk of that?

Serlo.

Frankness is rather tryin’, ain’t it?

Ethel.

No. Please go on.

Serlo.

It was dear Lord Serlo all day long; they couldn’t have enough of me. Rippin’ good chap, Serlo. Just the sort of cove one would like to have for a son-in-law.

Ethel.

Lord Serlo!

Serlo.

Half a mo. I ain’t done yet. Eminently suitable match, and all that sort of thing, only the young lady couldn’t stick me at any price.

Ethel.

I don’t know why you should say this.

Serlo.

Better have it out, you know; rotten, keepin’ things on your chest. Don’t blame the young lady. Don’t know that I should much fancy myself if I was a blushing damsel. Not everybody’s money. Got a bit damaged in transit, eh, what? Been mixed up in one or two scandals. Not the right thing for an old-established marquess. Bit inclined to drink. No harm in him, you know, but not the sort of man you’d like to spend the rest of your life with. Young woman got a mind of her own. Lets the noble lord see she wouldn’t take him if he was given away with a pound of tea. All right, says noble lord, bet’s off. Not much, says mother of young woman. Half a million goin’ beggin’. Give her time to get used to you. Fascinating cove really. More she knows you more she’ll like you. Come down and stay in the country.

Ethel.

[With a laugh.] How can you talk such nonsense!

Serlo.

All right, says noble lord, I’m on. Jolly nice girl, and all that sort of thing. Noble lord rather smit. Thinks if she’ll have him he’ll turn over a new leaf—give up everythin’ rotten and try and make her a good husband. Rather taken with the idea of double harness. He may look a fool, but noble lord knows a good thing when he sees it, and the young lady’s about the best thing he’s ever set eyes on.

Ethel.

Are you talking seriously by any chance?

Serlo.

Now don’t interrupt me. I’ve just got into a good steady canter, and I’ll get it all off my chest at once.

Ethel.

I’m so sorry.

Serlo.

Well, when eligible marquess gets down in the country, what d’you think he finds? Blessed if there ain’t a foreign prince on the scene. My word, that’s enough to put the noble lord’s aristocratic nose right out of joint, ain’t it? Look here, old boy, you keep your weather eye open, and all that sort of thing, says the noble lord to himself. May be an ass, don’t you know, but when there’s a bloomin’ hurricane comin’ along he can see which way the wind is blowin’. Brother rather chilly, father rather chilly, mother regular iceberg. All right, says noble lord to himself, but what about Pretty Polly?

Ethel.

Is that me by any chance?

Serlo.

For the last month Pretty Polly had been simply turnin’ her back on noble lord, snubbin’ him right and left, and all of a sudden she becomes extraordinary affable. Hulloa, what’s this, says noble lord, and his little heart goes pit-a-pat. He may be a fool, but he ain’t a damned fool, and in a day or two he tumbles to it. So, like a wise man, he packs his bag and hooks it.

Ethel.

I don’t know what on earth you mean?

Serlo.

Don’t you? Well, will you have it straight from the shoulder?

Ethel.

We agreed to be quite frank.

Serlo.

All right. No spoof. My dear, I just saw that you were fairly knocked silly by the Archduke, and there wasn’t a ghost of a chance for little Ned Serlo.

Ethel.

It’s not true.

Serlo.

Oh, yes, it is. You see, I’m a bit knocked silly myself, and that makes you precious far-sighted.

Ethel.

You!

Serlo.

All right, you needn’t get up on your hind legs. I’m not goin’ to propose to you now. I know it would be no precious good. At first I didn’t care twopence; it was just a business arrangement—half a million down on one side and an old-established marquisate on the other. But now.... Well, you know I’m rather an ass at saying what I mean—when I really mean it.

Ethel.

I’m very sorry. I’m afraid I’ve been unkind to you.

Serlo.

Oh, no, you haven’t. I do seem a rotten little bounder, don’t I?

Ethel.

No, I think you might be an awfully good friend.

Serlo.

It’s jolly of you to say so. You know, I can’t stick your family. Can you?

Ethel.

[Smiling.] You see, I knew them before they were rich. When you’ve lived all your life in a sordid narrow way, it’s very hard to have such enormous wealth as ours.

Serlo.

You make allowances for them, but you never did for me.

Ethel.

It would have been very impertinent of me.

Serlo.

It never struck you that it’s devilish hard to be a marquess with no means of livelihood but your title. And the worst of a title is that it’ll get you plenty of credit, but dooced little hard cash.

Ethel.

I never thought of that.

Serlo.

Well, look here, what I wanted to say is this: it’s no business of mine about the Archduke. You know, I don’t know much about royalty, but I don’t think a foreign prince is likely to marry the daughter of nobody in particular just because she’s got nice eyes and a pot of money. [Ethel is about to speak.] No, let me go on. You may be going to have a rotten time, and I just want you to know that if at any time you want me—well, you know what I mean, don’t you. Let’s forget that you’re an heiress, and I’m an old-established marquess. You’re an awfully ripping sort, and I’m just Ned Serlo. I’m not a bad sort either, and perhaps we might be happy together.

Ethel.

[Touched.] It’s very charming of you. I’m so glad that I know you better now. Whatever happens I know I can count on you.

Serlo.

That’s all right then. Meanwhile noble lord’s goin’ to hook it—leave the coast clear, and bear it like a man, don’t you know.

Enter Jack Straw.

Jack Straw.

Well, how are the weather and the crops?

Serlo.

[Rather surprised.] Blessed if I know, sir.

Jack Straw.

I merely asked because you looked as if you’d been discussing them.

[He gives Serlo a glance. Serlo shows no sign of moving.

Jack Straw.

I’m not driving you away, am I?

Serlo.

[Getting up.] Not at all, sir. I thought I’d go and have a look at the party.

Jack Straw.

Do go and pretend you’re me, there’s a good fellow, and shake hands with some of those confounded people. You’ll see where I ought to stand, because there’s a little piece of red carpet on the lawn.

Serlo.

I’m afraid they’re not takin’ any of me, sir.

[Exit.

Jack Straw.

The only advantage I’ve ever been able to find in being a royal personage is that when anybody’s in your way you just tell him to go, and he goes.

Ethel.

Why did you want Lord Serlo to go, sir?

Jack Straw.

Because I wanted to be alone with you. Ask me another, quickly.

Ethel.

Oughtn’t I to help mother to receive people?

Jack Straw.

I’m sure you ought. But, you see, that’s another advantage of being a royal personage, that you can’t go till I give you your dismissal. I say, don’t you hate parties?

Ethel.

Dreadfully.

Jack Straw.

So do I. Let’s pretend there isn’t one, shall we? I say, why don’t you sit down and make yourself comfy?

Ethel.

I should like to have a little talk with you, sir.

Jack Straw.

That’s jolly. I wish we had a regiment of soldiers there to turn all those people out.

Ethel.

May I say anything I like to you, sir?

Jack Straw.

Good heavens, why not?

Ethel.

Until I was sixteen the most exalted person I’d ever met in my life was a London County Councillor. I’m not quite sure if I know how to behave with royal personages.

Jack Straw.

Why on earth don’t you buy a book on etiquette? I always carry one about with me.

Ethel.

Mother bought several when you said you’d come down.

Jack Straw.

I wonder if she’s got the same as mine. You know I never can remember to call a serviette a napkin.

Ethel.

Mamma’s very particular about that.

Jack Straw.

And look here, d’you know that you ought never to call a chicken a fowl? It’s awfully bad form. I wonder if that’s in your mother’s books. I say, what charming eyes you have.

Ethel.

That’s another of the advantages of being a royal personage, that you can make pretty speeches, and no one takes them seriously.

Jack Straw.

But you know, I’m a very insignificant royal personage. You mustn’t think I’m anything very grand really.

Ethel.

It’s very nice of you to say so.

Jack Straw.

You see, there are seventy-nine archdukes and duchesses in Pomerania. My grandfather had seventeen children, and they all married. How many children would each have had to make seventy-nine of us?

Ethel.

It sounds very difficult.

Jack Straw.

But you see I can’t be very important, can I? And of course I’ve got practically no money to speak of.

Ethel.

It’s very good of you to put me at my ease. Then you wont mind if I say exactly what I want to?

Jack Straw.

You won’t give me good advice, will you? I’ve got seventy-nine relations, and they all do that.

Ethel.

I wouldn’t venture.

Jack Straw.

I’ll bear whatever else you say with fortitude. We’ll pretend that you’re just Miss So-and-So.

Ethel.

As in point of fact, I am.

Jack Straw.

And that I’m—Jack Straw.

Ethel.

[Surprised.] Why on earth Jack Straw?

Jack Straw.

[Indifferently.] It’s the name of a public-house in Hampstead. Pray go on.

Ethel.

I wondered if you’d do me a great favour.

Jack Straw.

Ask me for the moon, and it shall be left at your front door by Carter Paterson to-morrow morning.

Ethel.

It’s something much simpler than that.

Jack Straw.

Put me out of suspense quickly.

Ethel.

I should be very much obliged if—if you’d go away.

Jack Straw.

[Much surprised.] I? Now?

Ethel.

I didn’t mean actually this minute. But if it suited your arrangements to go to-morrow....

Jack Straw.

You don’t mean to say you want me to go away altogether?

Ethel.

That is precisely what I did mean.

Jack Straw.

Couldn’t you ask me something easier than that? Ask me for a lawyer who never told a lie, and I’ll deliver him to you, bound hand and foot.

Ethel.

I don’t happen to want one just at this moment, thank you.

Jack Straw.

But I’m having a very jolly time down here.

Ethel.

[With a change of tone.] Don’t you see that you’re exposing me every day to the most cruel humiliation?

Jack Straw.

I thought I was making myself so pleasant.

Ethel.

Oh, don’t pretend you don’t understand. I’ve seen the twinkle in your eyes when my mother set a little trap for you to fall in.

Jack Straw.

I always fall in very neatly.

Ethel.

But what do you think I felt when I knew how clearly you saw that she was throwing me at your head?

Jack Straw.

It’s a distinctly pleasing sensation to have a pretty girl thrown at your head.

Ethel.

It was only a joke to you; you don’t know how ashamed I was.

Jack Straw.

But why do you suppose I came down to Taverner—to see your father and mother?

Ethel.

I don’t know why you came—unless it was to make me desperately wretched.

Jack Straw.

What would you say if I told you that I came because I loved you at first sight?

Ethel.

I should say that your Royal Highness was very polite.

Jack Straw.

Now, look here, don’t you think I’m rather nice, really?

Ethel.

It would surely be very impertinent of me to have any opinion on the subject.

Jack Straw.

Our friend Serlo would describe that as one in the eye.

Ethel.

Would you allow me to go back to my mother’s guests, sir?

Jack Straw.

[Imperturbably.] Do you think you’d like me any better if I weren’t an Archduke?

Ethel.

I haven’t thought about it.

Jack Straw.

Then please give the matter your immediate attention.

Ethel.

I should certainly like you no less.

Jack Straw.

I have no doubt that if I were just a penniless adventurer you’d simply dote upon me.

Ethel.

I don’t know if I’d put it quite so strongly as that.

Jack Straw.

You know, I’m afraid you’re hopelessly romantic. You’ve confessed your attachment to me, and just because I happen incautiously to have chosen an Emperor for my grandfather, you want me to go away. It’s so unreasonable.

Ethel.

But I haven’t confessed anything of the sort.

Jack Straw.

I look upon your request that I should go away as equivalent to an avowal of undying passion.

Ethel.

Shall I tell you what I would say to you if you weren’t an Archduke?

Jack Straw.

Yes.

Ethel.

I’d say you were the most audacious, impudent, and impertinent man I’d ever seen in my life.

[She gives a rapid, ironical curtsey, and goes out. He is about to follow her when Lady Wanley and Holland come in. Jack Straw stops and shakes hands with them.

Jack Straw.

Ah, I was hoping to have the pleasure of seeing you. You wrote me a little note, Mr. Holland.

Holland.

[Ironically.] I ventured to ask if I might have a few minutes’ private conversation with you.

Jack Straw.

Perhaps you wouldn’t mind waiting here. I will rejoin you immediately.

[He goes out.

Holland.

You know, he positively freezes me.

Lady Wanley.

I think it’s wonderful. One couldn’t suspect for a moment that he’s only....

Holland.

Take care.

[He looks round.

Lady Wanley.

No one will come here. We can talk quite safely.

Holland.

I wish to goodness we hadn’t ever thought of this fool trick. I knew it would lead to all sorts of bother.

Lady Wanley.

It’s no good saying that now. We must keep our heads and get out of it as best we can.

Holland.

What are you going to do?

Lady Wanley.

Oh, that’s just like a man. You’re trying to put the whole blame on me. What are you going to do?

Holland.

Well, we must finish with it as quickly as we can.

Lady Wanley.

Whatever happens, there must be no scene. I couldn’t bear to see him publicly humiliated.

Holland.

Why on earth should you think of him?

Lady Wanley.

Oh, I’m such a fool, Ambrose.

Holland.

My dear, what do you mean?

Lady Wanley.

After all, I’m not a girl—I’m the mother of two healthy boys with enormous appetites. I think the man has bewitched me.

Holland.

Good Lord!

Lady Wanley.

It’s no good saying that. Of course he’s the most fascinating creature I’ve ever seen in my life.

Holland.

You don’t mean to say you’re seriously in love with him?

Lady Wanley.

A widow with a sense of humour is never seriously in love with anybody.

Holland.

Well?

Lady Wanley.

But I think it’s much better the young man should disappear as mysteriously as he came.

Holland.

There we’re quite agreed. And we’ll tell him so with considerable frankness.

Enter Jack Straw.

Jack Straw.

Now, my dear people, I am at your service.

[Holland and Lady Wanley are sitting down. Jack Straw looks at Holland, who rises uneasily.

Holland.

Oh, don’t be such an ass, Jack.

Jack Straw.

[Frigidly.] I beg your pardon. [Pause.] Perhaps you’d be good enough to put down my hat.

Jack Straw.

I don’t think you’re in a very good humour this afternoon, Mr. Holland. I venture to think your manners leave something to be desired.

Holland.

Look here, we’ve had enough of this tomfoolery.

Jack Straw.

Pray sit down. It distresses me to see you standing.

Holland.

I believe the man’s out of his senses.

Lady Wanley.

[Very amiably.] Have you forgotten the waiter’s uniform which fitted you so wonderfully, Mr. Straw?

Jack Straw.

[Calmly.] Quite. I only remember the condition your ladyship was good enough to agree to, when I accepted your humorous suggestion.

Holland.

But, look here, we must talk the matter out.

Jack Straw.

I am quite willing to listen to you, my dear Holland. Your conversation is often interesting and sometimes epigrammatic. I stipulate only that you should use those forms of politeness which are usual between a person of your position and a person of mine.

Holland.

I should never have consented to this folly if I’d known to what it was going to lead. In a moment of uncontrollable irritation, because Mrs. Jennings had behaved with the greatest insolence to a defenceless girl, we made up our minds to punish her. There was no great harm in it. We thought perhaps she’d ask you to dinner, and there would be an end of it. It never dawned on us that you’d come and stay here indefinitely.

Jack Straw.

My dear fellow, why should you blame me for your own lack of intelligence?

Holland.

[Impatiently.] Ugh!

Jack Straw.

Our friend is quite incoherent, isn’t he?

Lady Wanley.

We want you to go away, sir.

Jack Straw.

Do you? I say, what a jolly frock. Where did you get it?

Lady Wanley.

[With a little laugh, disarmed by his impudence.] You’re perfectly irresistible.

Jack Straw.

You’ve taken the words out of my mouth, that’s just what I was going to say to you.

Lady Wanley.

Are you ever serious?

Jack Straw.

Always when I’m talking to a pretty woman.

Lady Wanley.

I wish I could understand you.

Jack Straw.

My dear lady, I’ve been trying to understand myself for the last thirty odd years. By the way, how old am I, Holland?

Holland.

How the deuce should I know?

Jack Straw.

Well, my dear fellow, I think it’s very careless of you. You might have looked it out. Supposing some one had asked me my age?

Lady Wanley.

I wish you really were a royal personage.

Jack Straw.

It does seem hard that a waiter should have such a way with him, doesn’t it?

Lady Wanley.

[Confidentially.] Who are you really?

Jack Straw.

Your devoted servant, madam. Who could be anything else after knowing you for ten minutes?

Lady Wanley.

It’s charming of you to say so.

Jack Straw.

I am very nice, aren’t I?

Lady Wanley.

Much too nice. That is why I beseech your Royal Highness graciously to take his departure.

Jack Straw.

You know, you haven’t yet told me where you got that frock.

Lady Wanley.

Oh, I bought it in Paris. Do you like it?

Jack Straw.

It’s ripping. And it suits you admirably.

Holland.

Isabel, Isabel, we came here to be sensible.

Lady Wanley.

My dear Ambrose, let me be sensible in my own way.

Jack Straw.

Oh, my dear Holland, I wonder if you’d very much mind going to see if my red carpet is still in its place.

Holland.

I’m not going to be made a fool of by you, my friend.

Jack Straw.

Why not? You’re doing it very well.

Lady Wanley.

Don’t be piggy, Ambrose.

Holland.

What on earth do you want me to do?

Lady Wanley.

I’m simply dying of thirst. I wish you’d get me a glass of lemonade.

Holland.

I have no intention whatever of stirring from this spot.

Jack Straw.

I’ve been wondering for the last week what I should do if I signified his dismissal to any one, and he flatly refused to go. Very awkward, isn’t it?

Lady Wanley.

Mahomet and the mountain isn’t in it.

Jack Straw.

Of course a hundred years ago I’d have cast him into a dungeon. But, between ourselves, I don’t happen to have a dungeon handy.

Holland.

Now look here, we’ve had enough of this nonsense. The joke has gone far enough. Are you going or not?

Jack Straw.

Well, if you ask me point blank, I’m not.

Holland.

But don’t you know that I have only to say two words for you to be kicked out of the house by the servants?

Jack Straw.

You forget that you’d be undoubtedly kicked out with me.

Holland.

Now look here, Jack, we’ve been old pals, and we’ve gone through a deuce of a lot together. I don’t want to say beastly things to you. I know I’ve made a fool of myself, but you’re a decent chap. You must see that it’s necessary for you to go at once.

Jack Straw.

I cannot for the life of me see anything of the sort. I have no other engagements, and the country is charming at this time of year.

Holland.

You’re behaving like a common impostor.

Jack Straw.

What language to use to a royal personage! I assure you we’re not used to such frankness.

Holland.

Do you deliberately refuse to go?

Jack Straw.

Deliberately.

Holland.

And shall I tell you why?

Jack Straw.

I happen to know, thank you.

Holland.

You’re going to commit the most disgraceful action of your life. Do you think any one can’t see that you’re madly in love with Ethel Jennings?

Lady Wanley.

[Springing to her feet.] Is that true?

Jack Straw.

Quite.

Lady Wanley.

Then why have you been flirting with me so disgracefully?

Jack Straw.

I assure you I had no intention of doing so. It must be my unfortunate manner.

Lady Wanley.

It’s an unfortunate manner that’s quite likely to get you into trouble with widow ladies.

Jack Straw.

In that case you can only applaud my determination to marry as quickly as possible.

Holland.

Not Ethel Jennings?

Lady Wanley.

You must be joking?

Jack Straw.

My dear madam, when I make a joke I always laugh quickly, so that there should be no doubt about it.

Holland.

It’s preposterous. I shall allow you to do nothing of the sort.

Jack Straw.

My dear fellow, what is the use of getting violently excited about it? More especially as I haven’t yet proposed to the young lady.

Holland.

I think you must be stark staring mad. You don’t suppose for a moment that we shall allow you to carry out such an odious deception. I can’t imagine how you can even think of anything so heartless and cruel.

Lady Wanley.

It’s going too far. You must understand that it’s impossible. I beseech you to leave Taverner immediately.

Jack Straw.

It drives me to distraction that I should have to refuse your smallest whim, but in this matter [with a dramatic flourish] I am adamant.

Holland.

Now, look here, we’ve talked about it enough. Either you leave this place immediately or I shall tell Mrs. Jennings the whole story.

Jack Straw.

It is only fair to give you that satisfaction. That was part of our arrangement.

Holland.

You realise the consequences?

Jack Straw.

[Very amiably.] I did that before I entered into your scheme.

Holland.

You leave me no alternative.

Jack Straw.

My dear Holland, I really believe you’re rather nervous about the disclosure which it is evidently your duty to make.

Holland.

For your own sake I ask you once more: will you give me your word of honour to leave the house and under no circumstances communicate with any member of the family?

Jack Straw.

It’s charming of you to give me one more chance. I can only repeat that I am deeply in love with Ethel, and I have every intention of marrying her.

Holland.

Your blood be upon your own head.

Jack Straw.

If I perish, I perish.

Lady Wanley.

No, Ambrose, I beseech you not to.

Holland.

Good heavens, the whole thing was done so that you might have an opportunity to crow over Mrs. Jennings. Now you’re going to have it.

Lady Wanley.

But I don’t want it any more. It was a foolish thing. Let him go quietly.

Holland.

But, you see, he won’t go.

Enter Mr. and Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, your Royal ’Ighness, we’ve been looking for you everywhere. We couldn’t make out what ’ad become of you.

Parker-Jennings.

All the county is there. CrÈme de la crÈme.

Vincent comes in hurriedly.

Vincent.

I say, mater, what on earth are you doing? Hurry up, the duchess has just driven up.... Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. I didn’t know you were there.

Holland.

Vincent, go and fetch your sister. I have something important to say that it is necessary for her to hear.

Vincent.

But look here, the duchess has just....

Holland.

Oh, hang the duchess. Where’s Ethel?

Vincent.

She’s sitting just outside, talking to Serlo.

Holland.

Then call her.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

[Looking round with astonishment.] ’As anythin ’appened?

Lady Wanley.

[To Holland.] Ambrose, be gentle.

Parker-Jennings.

Your Royal Highness isn’t put out about anything?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

[Quickly.] Oh, I ’ope we ’aven’t made any faux pas.

Jack Straw.

Nothing has happened to displease me. I’m in the best possible humour, thank you.

Holland.

[Seeing Ethel.] Oh, there you are. [Addressing himself to the company in general.] I have something very painful to say, and I don’t know how I’m going to make it clear to you.

Serlo.

I say, is this any business of mine? Shall I hook it?

Jack Straw.

Oh no, pray stay by all means.

Lady Wanley.

[To Jack Straw.] Haven’t you changed your mind, sir?

Jack Straw.

I’m like a historical character whose name I can’t remember at the moment: I never change my mind.

Holland.

Mrs. Jennings, I’m afraid there’s no use in my trying to excuse myself. I had better just tell you everything as shortly as I can.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Mr. Holland, don’t you think it can wait till later? The duchess ’as just come, and it’ll look so funny if I’m not there to receive her.

Jack Straw.

Mr. Holland has a communication to make which cannot fail to interest you.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, of course, if it’s your Royal ’Ighness’s wish.

Holland.

I daresay you remember that a fortnight ago we all met at the Grand Babylon Hotel.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

How could I forget, when that was the auspicious occasion of my introduction to his Royal ’Ighness.

Lady Wanley.

Ambrose.

Holland.

You may remember, also, that Mr. and Mrs. Abbott were sitting with us in the lounge.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

I ’ave other things to do than to remember where Mr. and Mrs. Abbott were sitting.

Holland.

I daresay you’ve forgotten that you behaved very cruelly to her. We were all very indignant. We thought it necessary to punish you.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Really, Mr. Holland, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to.

Holland.

I find it very difficult to say what I have to—I realise now that the whole business has been preposterously silly—I can manage far better if you don’t interrupt.

Jack Straw.

Please let him go on, Mrs. Jennings.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Of, of course, if your Royal ’Ighness wishes it I ’ave no more to say.

Holland.

It struck me that it would be amusing to pass off a nobody as a person of great consequence. I had just recognised one of the waiters as an old friend of mine. I introduced him to you as the Archduke Sebastian of Pomerania.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

What! Then ...?

Jack Straw.

[With the greatest urbanity.] Madam, I stepped out of the uniform of a waiter at the Grand Babylon Hotel into the sober garb of the person you now see before you.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Then you’re nothing short of an impostor. Oh! Oh! Now, then, Jennings, you’re a man. Do something.

Parker-Jennings.

And he’s been lappin’ up my best champagne lunch and dinner for a week.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, damn your champagne.

Vincent.

Mater!

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, you fool, you fool! You’ve ’ad the education. You’ve been to Oxford, and we gave you four thousand a year. Didn’t you learn enough to tell the difference between an archduke and a waiter?

Vincent.

Serlo didn’t spot him.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Who’s Serlo? Fine marquess he is—spends all his time with stable boys and barmaids. How do I know he is a marquess?

Serlo.

Don’t mind me, will you?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Is there no one who can do something? And that man stands there as if he didn’t care a ball of worsted. Don’t you be too sure, my young friend. It’s your Royal ’Ighness this, and your Royal ’Ighness that. And we had to call you sir. Waiter, ’alf a pint of bitter, and look sharp about it.

Ethel.

Mother!

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, don’t talk to me. [To Jack Straw.] Well, what have you got to say?

Jack Straw.

My dear lady, you’re so voluble, it would be difficult for me to get a word in edgeways.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Well, I’m listening.

Jack Straw.

Ah, there you have me, for in point of fact I can think of no appropriate observation.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

And you’ve been laughing at me all the time, ’ave you? Well, you’re going to laugh on the other side of your face now, young feller-my-lad.

Jack Straw.

I shall be interested to see how one performs that very curious operation.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Well, shall I tell you who’ll show you?

Jack Straw.

Yes, do.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

The police, my lad, the police.

Jack Straw.

I wouldn’t send for them if I were you.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Wouldn’t you?

Jack Straw.

I wouldn’t really.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Well, I would.

Jack Straw.

Don’t you think it’ll be a little awkward with all these people here?

Vincent.

We can’t have a scene now, mater.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

D’you mean to say I’ve got to sit still and lump it?

Jack Straw.

If you ask my advice, that is what I should recommend.

Parker-Jennings.

All the county’s here, Maria. CrÈme de la crÈme.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, I wish they were all dead. I know why they come here. D’you think I don’t know that they call me a vulgar old woman behind my back? But they come all the same because I’ve got two millions of money. I’m so rich that they can’t ’elp coming.

Jack Straw.

You know, I don’t want to seem stuck up, but in point of fact they’ve come to-day to meet me. Don’t you think I’d better go and make myself amiable to them?

Holland.

You don’t mean to say you’re going back to them?

Jack Straw.

Why not?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

’Ave I got to introduce you to the duchess?

Jack Straw.

I’m afraid she’ll make a point of it. Even duchesses have a weakness for royal personages.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

If she ever finds out!

Jack Straw.

The situation is not without an element of humour.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Well, upon my soul, you ’ave got a cheek!

Jack Straw.

The motto on my coat of arms is audacity. Only we put it in Latin because it sounds better.

Vincent.

Your coat of arms, I like that.

Jack Straw.

My dear fellow, I have no doubt it is as authentic as yours.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

And do you mean to say I’ve got to pretend I don’t know anything?

Jack Straw.

I think it’s the only thing to do.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

I can never do it. I shall never ’old up my ’ead again.

Jack Straw.

Come. I am convinced that the duchess is growing restive. I will murmur a few soft nothings in her ear.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, well, I suppose the only thing is to risk it. But you just wait, young man, you wait.

Jack Straw.

I think I can promise you that no one here will—blow the gaff.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Upon my soul, you talk as if I was the criminal.

Holland.

What’s the matter?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, it give me such a turn. What’s to be done now? The Count.

Holland.

How d’you mean?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

I’d forgotten all about him. Count von Bremer coming.

Jack Straw.

Who the deuce is he?

Holland.

He’s your ambassador.

Jack Straw.

Of course, how stupid of me!

Lady Wanley.

[With a little scornful smile.] But he won’t come.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Don’t you make too sure about that. He’s coming right enough. The British aristocracy was quite willing to ’ob-nob with the Parker-Jennings, but this duty foreigner wouldn’t be seen in the same street with us. And you all sniggered up your sleeves, because you thought you was getting a bit of your own back. But I’ve got ’im to-day, and I was going to fling him in your faces. I wrote ’im a personal letter—as if I’d known him all my life—and said....

Jack Straw.

Well?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

And said ’is Royal ’Ighness particularly wished him to come. I sent the letter by one of the footmen this morning.

Jack Straw.

By Jove!

Holland.

Well, they mustn’t meet. You must say that the Archduke has been seized with sudden indisposition.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Every one knows he was quite well half an hour ago.

Lady Wanley.

Besides, Count von Bremer would probably insist on seeing him. It must have come as a great surprise that the Archduke Sebastian had turned up.

Jack Straw.

My dear people, don’t put yourselves out. If Count von Bremer has come here to see me, it would be manifestly most discourteous to rob him of that pleasure.

Holland.

I think you’re quite mad, Jack.

Jack Straw.

Unless I’m greatly mistaken, Count von Bremer has excessively bad sight.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

You don’t mean to say you’re going to meet ’im face to face?

Jack Straw.

Remember that there are eighty-one Archdukes in Pomerania.

Ethel.

You told me seventy-nine a little while ago.

Jack Straw.

I have since seen in the paper that the Archduchess Anastasia has had twins, which makes eighty-one. What more probable than that the Ambassador has never seen the Archduke Sebastian?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Oh, but what a risk to take. It’s enough to turn my false ’air grey.

Jack Straw.

In any case, he can’t have set eyes on him for four years, because nobody has.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

I suppose it ’asn’t struck you that he may talk to you in Pomeranian.

Jack Straw.

Have you ever met a waiter who couldn’t discourse fluently in seven languages at least?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Does that mean you can talk the Count’s beastly language?

Jack Straw.

Like a beastly native, madam. But I may suggest to you that there will be no need, since if I address the Count in English it would be the height of discourtesy for him to answer in any other tongue.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

Well, of all the cheek I’ve ever come across in my life, you just about take the cake.

Holland.

But look here, I remember seeing the Archduke described as a very handsome man.

Jack Straw.

Spare my blushes, dear friend. We are as like as two peas.

Mrs. Withers comes in.

Mrs. Withers.

Maria, the Count is looking for you everywhere. [Seeing Jack Straw.] Oh, I beg your pardon, sir.

Jack Straw.

Not at all.

Mrs. Withers.

He’s just coming along with Mr. Withers.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

[In an aside to Jack Straw.] Try and behave like a gentleman.

Enter Count Adrian von Bremer and Withers.

Jack Straw.

My dear Count!

Count.

This is a welcome surprise, sir.

Jack Straw.

You know my hostess?

Count.

[Shaking hands with Mrs. Parker-Jennings.] How do you do?

Jack Straw.

It is many years since we met.

Count.

I should have never recognised you, sir.

Jack Straw.

I expect I had a moustache when you last saw me.

Count.

That changes a face so much. And then I am so blind nowadays.

Jack Straw.

I daresay you have later news of the Emperor than I.

Count.

It will be a great pleasure to His Majesty to know that you are in England, sir. I have ventured to telegraph to him.

Jack Straw.

Have you, by Jove!

Count.

It was my duty to do so.

Jack Straw.

I daresay you have several things you want to talk to me about?

Count.

I was hoping you would give me a few minutes conversation.

Jack Straw.

[To Mrs. Parker-Jennings.] Will you forgive us if we take a little stroll in the rose garden?

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

[Grimly.] I am much honoured, sir, that your Royal Highness should condescend to walk in my rose garden.

Jack Straw.

Come. [He takes the Count’s arm. At the door the Count hesitates.] [Motioning to him to go first.] No, I pray you. I am at home here—the most comfortable, hospitable home I have known for many a long day.

Count.

Do you propose to stay in these parts much longer, sir?

Jack Straw.

I shall stay till Mrs. Parker-Jennings turns me out.

Mrs. Parker-Jennings.

You do us a great honour, sir. [The Count goes out. Just as he is going Jack Straw turns round and gives Mrs. Parker-Jennings an elaborate wink.] [Furiously.] You, you, you, you, damned waiter!

END OF THE SECOND ACT.