Fanny’s First Play

get a bit giddy when we’re lighthearted. Him and me is a pair, I’m afraid. Gilbey Don’t talk foolishness, girl. How could you and he be a pair, you being what you are, and he brought up as he has been, with the example of a religious woman like Mrs. Knox before his eyes? I can’t understand how he could bring himself to be seen in the street with you. Pitying himself. I haven’t deserved this. I’ve done my duty as a father. I’ve kept him sheltered. Angry with her. Creatures like you that take advantage of a child’s innocence ought to be whipped through the streets. Dora Well, whatever I may be, I’m too much the lady to lose my temper; and I don’t think Bobby would like me to tell you what I think of you; for when I start giving people a bit of my mind I sometimes use language that’s beneath me. But I tell you once for all I must have the money to get Bobby out; and if you won’t fork out, I’ll hunt up Holy Joe. He might get it off his brother, the Monsignor. Gilbey You mind your own concerns. My solicitor will do what is right. I’ll not have you paying my son’s fine as if you were anything to him. Dora That’s right. You’ll get him out today, won’t you? Gilbey It’s likely I’d leave my boy in prison, isn’t it? Dora I’d like to know when they’ll let him out. Gilbey You would, would you? You’re going to meet him at the prison door. Dora Well, don’t you think any woman would that had the feelings of a lady? Gilbey Bitterly. Oh yes: I know. Here! I must buy the lad’s salvation, I suppose. How much will you take to clear out and let him go? Dora Pitying him: quite nice about it. What good would that do, old dear? There are others, you know. Gilbey That’s true. I must send the boy himself away. Dora Where to? Gilbey Anywhere, so long as he’s out of the reach of you and your like. Dora Then I’m afraid you’ll have to send him out of the world, old dear. I’m sorry for you: I really am, though you mightn’t believe it; and I think your feelings do you real credit. But I can’t give him up just to let him fall into the hands of people I couldn’t trust, can I? Gilbey Beside himself, rising. Where’s the police? Where’s the Government? Where’s the Church? Where’s respectability and right reason? What’s the good of them if I have to stand here and see you put my son in your pocket as if he was a chattel slave, and you hardly out of gaol as a common drunk and disorderly? What’s the world coming to? Dora It is a lottery, isn’t it, old dear? Mr. Gilbey rushes from the room, distracted. Mrs. Gilbey Unruffled. Where did you buy that white lace? I want some to match a collaret of my own; and I can’t get it at Perry and John’s. Dora Knagg and Pantle’s: one and fourpence. It’s machine handmade. Mrs. Gilbey I never give more than one and tuppence. But I suppose you’re extravagant by nature. My sister Martha was just like that. Pay anything she was asked. Dora What’s tuppence to you, Mrs. Bobby, after all? Mrs. Gilbey Correcting her. Mrs. Gilbey. Dora Of course, Mrs. Gilbey. I am silly. Mrs. Gilbey Bobby must have looked funny in your hat. Why did you change hats with him? Dora I don’t know. One does, you know. Mrs. Gilbey I never did. The things people do! I can’t understand them. Bobby never told me he was keeping company with you. His own mother! Dora Overcome. Excuse me: I can’t help smiling. Juggins enters. Juggins Mr. Gilbey has gone to Wormwood Scrubbs, madam. Mrs. Gilbey Have you ever been in a police court, Juggins? Juggins Yes, madam. Mrs. Gilbey Rather shocked. I hope you had not been exceeding, Juggins. Juggins Yes, madam, I had. I exceeded the legal limit. Mrs. Gilbey Oh, that! Why do they give a woman a fortnight for wearing a man’s hat, and a man a month for wearing hers? Juggins I didn’t know that they did, madam. Mrs. Gilbey It doesn’t seem justice, does it, Juggins? Juggins No, madam. Mrs. Gilbey To Dora, rising. Well, goodbye. Shaking her hand. So pleased to have made your acquaintance. Dora Standing up. Don’t mention it. I’m sure it’s most kind of you to receive me at all. Mrs. Gilbey I must go off now and order lunch. She trots to the door. What was it you called the concertina? Dora A squiffer, dear. Mrs. Gilbey Thoughtfully. A squiffer, of course. How funny! She goes out. Dora Exploding into ecstasies of mirth. Oh my! isn’t she an old love? How do you keep your face straight? Juggins It is what I am paid for. Dora Confidentially. Listen here, dear boy. Your name isn’t Juggins. Nobody’s name is Juggins. Juggins My orders are, Miss Delaney, that you are not to be here when Mr. Gilbey returns from Wormwood Scrubbs. Dora That means telling me to mind my own business, doesn’t it? Well, I’m off. Tootle Loo, Charlie Darling. She kisses her hand to him and goes.

Act II

On the afternoon of the same day, Mrs. Knox is writing notes in her drawing room, at a writing table which stands against the wall. Anyone placed so as to see Mrs. Knox’s left profile, will have the door on the right and the window an the left, both further away than Mrs. Knox, whose back is presented to an obsolete upright piano at the opposite side of the room. The sofa is near the piano. There is a small table in the middle of the room, with some gilt-edged books and albums on it, and chairs near it.

Mr. Knox comes in almost furtively, a troubled man of fifty, thinner, harder, and uglier than his partner, Gilbey, Gilbey being a