Short Plays

Adolphus, take this last comfort from the unhappy Magnesia Fitztollemache. As I have dedicated to George all that I gave to you, so I will bury in your grave⁠—or in your urn if you are cremated⁠—all that I gave to him. Fitz I hardly follow this. Magnesia I will explain. George: hitherto I have given Adolphus all the romance of my nature⁠—all my love⁠—all my dreams⁠—all my caresses. Henceforth they are yours! Fitz Angel! Magnesia Adolphus: forgive me if this pains you. Adolphus Don’t mention it. I hardly feel it. The gazogene is so much worse. Taken bad again. Oh! Magnesia Peace, poor sufferer: there is still some balm. You are about to hear what I am going to dedicate to you. Adolphus All I ask is a peppermint lozenge, for mercy’s sake. Magnesia I have something far better than any lozenge: the devotion of a lifetime. Formerly it was George’s. I kept his house, or rather, his lodgings. I mended his clothes. I darned his socks. I bought his food. I interviewed his creditors. I stood between him and the servants. I administered his domestic finances. When his hair needed cutting or his countenance was imperfectly washed, I pointed it out to him. The trouble that all this gave me made him prosaic in my eyes. Familiarity bred contempt. Now all that shall end. My husband shall be my hero, my lover, my perfect knight. He shall shield me from all care and trouble. He shall ask nothing in return but love⁠—boundless, priceless, rapturous, soul-enthralling love, Love! Love!! Love!!! She raves and flings her arms about Fitz. And the duties I formerly discharged shall be replaced by the one supreme duty of duties: the duty of weeping at Adolphus’s tomb. Fitz Reflectively. My ownest, this sacrifice makes me feel that I have perhaps been a little selfish. I cannot help feeling that there is much to be said for the old arrangement. Why should Adolphus die for my sake? Adolphus I am not dying for your sake, Fitz. I am dying because you poisoned me. Magnesia You do not fear to die, Adolphus, do you? Adolphus N‑n‑no, I don’t exactly fear to die. Still⁠— Fitz Still, if an antidote⁠— Adolphus Bounding from the bed. Antidote! Magnesia With wild hope. Antidote! Fitz If an antidote would not be too much of an anticlimax. Adolphus Anticlimax be blowed! Do you think I am going to die to please the critics? Out with your antidote. Quick! Fitz The best antidote to the poison I have given you is lime, plenty of lime. Adolphus Lime! You mock me! Do you think I carry lime about in my pockets? Fitz There is the plaster ceiling. Magnesia Yes, the ceiling. Saved, saved, saved! All three frantically shy boots at the ceiling. Flakes of plaster rain down which Adolphus devours, at first ravenously, then with a marked falling off in relish. Magnesia Picking up a huge slice. Take this, Adolphus: it is the largest. She crams it into his mouth. Fitz Ha! a lump off the cornice! Try this. Adolphus Desperately. Stop! stop! Magnesia Do not stop. You will die. She tries to stuff him again. Adolphus Resolutely. I prefer death. Magnesia
Fitz Throwing themselves on their knees on either side of him. For our sakes, Adolphus, persevere. Adolphus No: unless you can supply lime in liquid form, I must perish. Finish that ceiling I cannot and will not. Magnesia I have a thought⁠—an inspiration. My bust. She snatches it from its pedestal and brings it to him. Adolphus Gazing fondly at it. Can I resist it? Fitz Try the bun. Adolphus Gnawing the knot of hair at the back of the bust’s head: it makes him ill. Yah, I cannot. I cannot. Not even your bust, Magnesia. Do not ask me. Let me die. Fitz Pressing the bust on him. Force yourself to take a mouthful. Down with it, Adolphus! Adolphus Useless. It would not stay down. Water! Some fluid! Ring for something to drink. He chokes. Magnesia I will save you. She rushes to the bell and rings. Phyllis, in her nightgown, with her hair prettily made up into a chevaux defrise of crocuses with pink and yellow curlpapers, rushes in straight to Magnesia. Phyllis Hysterically. My beloved mistress, once more we meet. She sees Fitztollemache and screams. Ah! ah! ah! A Man! She sees Adolphus. Men!! She flies; but Fitztollemache seizes her by the nightgown just as she is escaping. Unhand me, villain! Fitz This is no time for prudery, girl. Mr. Bastable is dying. Phyllis With concern. Indeed, sir? I hope he will not think it unfeeling of me to appear at his deathbed in curlpapers. Magnesia We know you have a good heart, Phyllis. Take this giving her the bust; dissolve it in a jug of hot water; and bring it back instantly. Mr. Bastable’s life depends on your haste. Phyllis Hesitating. It do seem a pity, don’t it, my lady, to spoil your lovely bust? Adolphus Tush! This craze for fine art is beyond all bounds. Off with you. He pushes her out. Drink, drink, drink! My entrails are parched. Drink! He rushes deliriously to the gazogene. Fitz Rushing after him. Madman, you forget! It is poisoned! Adolphus I don’t care. Drink, drink! They wrestle madly for the gazogene. In the struggle they squirt all its contents away, mostly into one another’s face. Adolphus at last flings Fitztollemache to the floor, and puts the spout into his mouth. Empty! empty! With a shriek of despair he collapses on the bed, clasping the gazogene like a baby, and weeping over it. Fitz Aside to Magnesia. Magnesia: I have always pretended not to notice it; but you keep a siphon for your private use in my hatbox. Magnesia I use it for washing old lace; but no matter: he shall have it. She produces a siphon from the hatbox, and offers a tumbler of soda-water to Adolphus. Adolphus Thanks, thanks, oh, thanks! He