If: A Play in Four Acts, Lord Dunsany [any book recommendations TXT] 📗

LIZA

Millions?

JOHN

I've lost everything.

LIZA

'Ow did you lose it?

JOHN

Through being blind. But never mind, never mind. It's all gone now, and I'm hungry.

LIZA

'Ow long 'ave you been down on your luck?

JOHN

It's three years now.

LIZA

Couldn't get a regular job, like?

JOHN

Well, I suppose I might have. I suppose it's my fault, miss. But the heart was out of me.

LIZA

Dear me, now.

JOHN

Miss.

LIZA

Yes?

JOHN

You've a kind face...

LIZA

'Ave I?

JOHN

Yes. Would you do me a kind turn?

LIZA

Well, I dunno. I might, as yer so down on yer luck—I don't like to see a man like you are, I must say.

JOHN

Would you let me come into the big house and speak to the missus a moment?

LIZA

She'd row me awful if I did. This house is very respectable.

JOHN

I feel, if you would, I feel, I feel my luck might change.

LIZA

But I don't know what she'd say if I did.

JOHN

Miss, I must.

LIZA

I don't know wot she'd say.

JOHN

I must come in, miss, I must.

LIZA

I don't know what she'll say.

JOHN

I must. I can't help myself.

LIZA

I don't know what she'll...

[JOHN is in, door shuts.]

[ALI throws his head up and laughs, but quite silently.]

Curtain

SCENE 2

The drawing-room at the Acacias.

A moment later.

The scene is the same as in Act I, except that the sofa which was red is now green, and the photograph of Aunt Martha is replaced by that of a frowning old colonel. The ages of the four children in the photographs are the same, but their sexes have changed.

[MARY reading. Enter LIZA.]

LIZA

There's a gentleman to see you, mum, which is, properly speaking, not a gentleman at all, but 'e would come in, mum.

MARY

Not a gentleman! Good gracious, Liza, whatever do you mean?

LIZA

'E would come in, mum.

MARY

But what does he want?

LIZA [over shoulder]

What does you want?

JOHN [entering]

I am a beggar.

MARY

O, really? You've no right to be coming into houses like this, you know.

JOHN

I know that, madam, I know that. Yet somehow I couldn't help myself. I've been begging for nearly three years now, and I've never done this before, yet somehow to-night I felt impelled to come to this house. I beg your pardon, humbly. Hunger drove me to it.

MARY

Hunger?

JOHN

I'm very hungry, madam.

MARY

Unfortunately Mr. Cater has not yet returned, or perhaps he might...

JOHN

If you could give me a little to eat yourself, madam, a bit of stale bread, a crust, something that Mr. Cater would not want.

MARY

It's very unusual, coming into a house like this and at such an hour—it's past eleven o'clock—and Mr. Cater not yet returned. Are you really hungry?

JOHN

I'm very, very hungry.

MARY

Well, it's very unusual; but perhaps I might get you a little something.

[She picks up an empty plate from the supper table.]

JOHN

Madam, I do not know how to thank you.

MARY

O, don't mention it.

JOHN

I have not met such kindness for three years. I... I'm starving. I've known better times.

MARY [kindly]

I'll get you something. You've known better times, you say?

JOHN

I had been intended for