Mrs. Warren’s Profession

on the Reverend Samuel. Mrs. Warren Why, it’s Sam Gardner, gone into the church! Don’t you know us, Sam? This is George Crofts, as large as life and twice as natural. Don’t you remember me? Rev. S. Very red. I really⁠—er⁠— Mrs. Warren Of course you do. Why, I have a whole album of your letters still: I came across them only the other day. Rev. S. Miserably confused. Miss Vavasour, I believe. Mrs. Warren Correcting him quickly in a loud whisper. Tch! Nonsense!⁠—Mrs. Warren: don’t you see my daughter there?

Act II

Inside the cottage after nightfall. Looking eastward from within instead of westward from without, the latticed window, with its curtains drawn, is now seen in the middle of the front wall of the cottage, with the porch door to the left of it. In the left-hand side wall is the door leading to the wing. Farther back against the same wall is a dresser with a candle and matches on it, and Frank’s rifle standing beside them, with the barrel resting in the plate-rack. In the centre a table stands with a lighted lamp on it. Vivie’s books and writing materials are on a table to the right of the window, against the wall. The fireplace is on the right, with a settle: there is no fire. Two of the chairs are set right and left of the table.

	The cottage door opens, showing a fine starlit night without; and Mrs. Warren, her shoulders wrapped in a shawl borrowed from Vivie, enters, followed by Frank. She has had enough of walking, and gives a gasp of relief as she unpins her hat; takes it off; sticks the pin through the crown; and puts it on the table.
Mrs. Warren	O Lord! I don’t know which is the worst of the country, the walking or the sitting at home with nothing to do. I could do with a whisky and soda now very well, if only they had such a thing in the place.
Frank	Helping her to take off her shawl, and giving her shoulders the most delicate possible little caress with his fingers as he does so. Perhaps Vivie’s got some.
Mrs. Warren	Glancing back at him for an instant from the corner of her eye as she detects the pressure. Nonsense! What would a young girl like her be doing with such things! Never mind: it don’t matter. She throws herself wearily into a chair at the table. I wonder how she passes her time here! I’d a good deal rather be in Vienna.
Frank	Let me take you there. He folds the shawl nearly; hangs it on the back of the other chair; and sits down opposite Mrs. Warren.
Mrs. Warren	Get out! I’m beginning to think you’re a chip of the old block.
Frank	Like the gov’nor, eh?
Mrs. Warren	Never you mind. What do you know about such things? You’re only a boy.
Frank	Do come to Vienna with me? It’d be ever such larks.
Mrs. Warren	No, thank you. Vienna is no place for you⁠—at least not until you’re a little older. She nods at him to emphasize this piece of advice. He makes a mock-piteous face, belied by his laughing eyes. She looks at him; then rises and goes to him. Now, look here, little boy: taking his face in her hands and turning it up to her I know you through and through by your likeness to your father, better than you know yourself. Don’t you go taking any silly ideas into your head about me. Do you hear?
Frank	Gallantly wooing her with his voice. Can’t help it, my dear Mrs. Warren: it runs in the family. She pretends to box his ears; then looks at the pretty laughing, upturned face of a moment, tempted. At last she kisses him, and immediately turns away, out of patience with herself.
Mrs. Warren	There! I shouldn’t have done that. I am wicked. Never you mind, my dear: it’s only a motherly kiss. Go and make love to Vivie.
Frank	So I have.
Mrs. Warren	Turning on him with a sharp note of alarm in her voice. What!
Frank	Vivie and I are ever such chums.
Mrs. Warren	What do you mean? Now, see here: I won’t have any young scamp tampering with my little girl. Do you hear? I won’t have it.
Frank	Quite unabashed. My dear Mrs. Warren: don’t you be alarmed. My intentions are honorable: ever so honorable; and your little girl is jolly well able to take care of herself. She don’t need looking after half so much as her mother. She ain’t so handsome, you know.
Mrs. Warren	Taken aback by his assurance. Well, you have got a nice healthy two inches of cheek all over you. I don’t know where you got it⁠—not from your father, anyhow. Voices and footsteps in the porch. Sh! I hear the others coming in. She sits down hastily. Remember: you’ve got your warning. The Rev. Samuel Gardner comes in, followed by Crofts. Well, what became of you two? And where’s Praddy and Vivie?
Crofts	Putting his hat on the settle and his stick in the chimney corner. They went up the hill. We went to the village. I wanted a drink. He sits down on the settle, putting his legs up along the seat.
Mrs. Warren	Well, she oughtn’t to go off like that without telling me. To Frank. Get your father a chair, Frank: where are your manners? Frank springs up and gracefully offers his father his chair; then takes another from the wall and sits down at the table, in the middle, with his father on his right and Mrs. Warren on his left. George: where are you going to stay tonight? You can’t stay here. And what’s Praddy going to do?
Crofts	Gardner’ll put me up.
Mrs. Warren	Oh, no doubt you’ve taken