Part 1
“THIS WAS A MAN”
_NOEL COWARD_
“THIS WAS A MAN”
A Comedy in Three Acts
[Illustration]
Garden City, New York Doubleday, Doran & Company, Inc. MCMXXXIII
COPYRIGHT, 1926 BY NOEL COWARD ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES
ERRATUM
_Applications regarding performing rights should be addressed to the author, care of the publishers._
TO JOHN C. WILSON
PALERMO, _April 1926_
“THIS WAS A MAN”
CHARACTERS
(In the order of their appearance)
EDWARD CHURT CAROL CHURT HARRY CHALLONER MARGOT BUTLER BERRY BOBBIE ROMFORD ZOE ST. MERRYN MAJOR EVELYN BATHURST BLACKWELL
SCENES
ACT I
SCENE I: Edward Chart’s studio in Knightsbridge—2.30 A.M.
SCENE II: The same. The following afternoon.
ACT II
SCENE: Evelyn Bathurst’s flat. The same night.
ACT III
SCENE: The same as Act I. The following morning.
“THIS WAS A MAN”
Act One
ACT I
SCENE I
_EDWARD CHURT’S studio in Knightsbridge is furnished with mingled opulence and good taste—he is a successful modern portrait-painter._
[_When the curtain rises it is about 2.30 a.m. There is a faint glow from the fireplace on the left; a table stands more or less C., upon which is a reading lamp illumining a decanter of whisky, some siphons, a plate of biscuits and another of sandwiches, and two or three glasses; there are also a box of cigarettes and matches. The rest of the room is in comparative darkness. There is the sound of a taxi drawing up in the street, then after a suitable pause the noise of the front door being opened. CAROL CHURT enters, followed by HARRY CHALLONER. They are both in evening dress. CAROL is lovely and exquisitely gowned; her vivid personality is composed of a minimum of intellect and a maximum of sex. HARRY possesses all the earmarks of a social success—he is an excellent ballroom dancer, compared with which his activities in the city are negligible._]
CAROL
Don’t make a noise.
HARRY
I wasn’t.
CAROL
I didn’t say you were—I said don’t.
HARRY
All right.
CAROL
Do you want a drink?
HARRY
Yes, please.
CAROL
Help yourself then—and give me one.
[_She takes off her cloak and lights a cigarette._]
HARRY
Say when.
CAROL
That’s enough.
[_He fills up the glass with soda and hands it to her._]
HARRY
Here.
CAROL
Thanks.
HARRY
You are a marvel.
CAROL
Why?
HARRY
You’re so steady.
CAROL
I don’t see any reason for being anything else.
HARRY
You don’t think he’ll find out?
CAROL
Of course not.
HARRY
Where does he sleep?
CAROL
[_Pointing to door, R._]
In there.
[_HARRY, with big drink in his hand, tiptoes over and listens at the door._]
HARRY
I can’t hear a sound.
CAROL
He doesn’t snore unless he’s taken to it lately.
HARRY
[_Returning_]
Darling, do you love me?
CAROL
What a silly question!
HARRY
It’s all been so wonderful.
CAROL
[_Smiling_]
Has it?
HARRY
Well, hasn’t it?
CAROL
Yes, it has rather. [_He puts down his drink and takes her in his arms._] Look out—
[_She is holding her glass out at arm’s length to prevent it upsetting._]
HARRY
Put it down, darling—
[_There is a good deal of passion in his voice when he says, “darling.”_]
CAROL
Why?
HARRY
I want to kiss you.
CAROL
Again?
HARRY
Yes, again and again and again—forever.
[_He takes her glass and slams it down on the table._]
CAROL
Shhh! Don’t be a fool.
HARRY
I don’t care—
[_He kisses her lingeringly._]
CAROL
[_Gently disentangling herself_]
I do—it’s silly to be reckless.
HARRY
I don’t believe you love me as much as you did before.
CAROL
It isn’t that at all—you know it isn’t.
HARRY
Kiss me then.
CAROL
Very well.
[_She goes up to him and quietly kisses him on the mouth. They stand there motionless for a moment._]
HARRY
I want you—all over again—for the first time.
CAROL
[_Stroking his face_]
Darling.
HARRY
I’m crazy about you.
CAROL
You must go home to bed now.
HARRY
Will you telephone me?
CAROL
Yes.
HARRY
First thing?
CAROL
Yes.
HARRY
Promise.
CAROL
Promise.
[_They go out of the door. There is a little whispering in the hall. Then a silence and the sound of the front door closing gently. CAROL comes back into the studio pensively. She finishes her whisky and soda, takes a biscuit, and flings her cloak over her arm; then she switches off the light and goes slowly off up R. Her door closes. After a slight pause EDWARD CHURT rises from the big armchair by the fire in which he has been sitting with his back to the audience, and goes over to the table. He switches on the lamp again and helps himself to a sandwich; he munches it thoughtfully for a moment, then with an air of determination picks up the whole plate, switches off the lamp and—retires to his room._]
CURTAIN
SCENE II
_The scene is the same. It is an afternoon a few weeks later about five o’clock._
[_When the curtain rises, LADY MARGOT BUTLER is seated down-stage in a slightly picturesque attitude. She is a good-looking woman of about thirty-five. EDWARD is working on a sketch of her and is hidden from view behind an easel._]
MARGOT
I’m much more comfortable now, Edward.
EDWARD
Yes, I see you are. Would you mind getting uncomfortable again?
MARGOT
[_Rearranging herself_]
It _is_ a shame. Why do you insist on drawing people in such agonizing positions?
EDWARD
It makes them feel they’re getting their money’s worth. You can rest in a moment and have a cigarette.
MARGOT
Was Violet Netherson pleased with your malicious portrayal of all her worst points?
EDWARD
Delighted. As a matter of fact, it _is_ one of the best things I’ve done.
MARGOT
Yes, but hardly from her point of view. I should never forgive you if you did that to me.
EDWARD
I shall do something much worse if you don’t keep still.
MARGOT
What about that cigarette?
EDWARD
Shut up.
MARGOT
All right. [_There is silence for a moment._] Is that one by the door new?
EDWARD
Yes, it’s the Fenwick girl—her mother’s convinced that she’s a wild woodland type.
MARGOT
St. John’s Woodland.
EDWARD
I had a bit of a tussle with her.
MARGOT
I like it.
EDWARD
There now, you can relax. I shan’t do any more to-day.
[_MARGOT rises quickly and strides about._]
MARGOT
I should loathe to be a professional model.
EDWARD
There are worse fates I believe. Would you like tea or cocktails or anything?
MARGOT
I should like some tea now and a cocktail later on.
EDWARD
Are you going to stay a long time?
MARGOT
I told Bobbie to pick me up.
EDWARD
[_Ringing bell_]
How is Bobbie?
MARGOT
Splendid. I’m still mad about him.
EDWARD
That’s right.
MARGOT
You don’t like him, do you?
EDWARD
I hardly know him.
MARGOT
He’s such a darling, and a great comfort to me.
EDWARD
[_Standing back and regarding his sketch_]
I shall only need one more sitting.
MARGOT
I believe you disapprove of me and Bobbie.
EDWARD
Don’t be ridiculous. Why should I?
MARGOT
You must _never_ disapprove of things, Edward. It’s so second rate.
EDWARD
You don’t mean that a bit.
MARGOT
Yes, I do.
EDWARD
You secretly disapprove of the whole affair, yourself, really. That’s why you always talk about it so much—to sort of brazen it out and put yourself straight with yourself.
MARGOT
Edward, how _can_ you! Anyhow, why shouldn’t I talk about it. You all know. Everybody knows.
EDWARD
Reticence as a national quality seems to be on the wane.
MARGOT
What a pompous remark!
EDWARD
Perhaps—but true. [_Enter BERRY._] Tea please, Berry.
BERRY
Very good, sir.
MARGOT
Lemon with mine, please, Berry.
BERRY
Yes, my lady.
[_He goes out._]
MARGOT
You’re an awfully difficult person to know properly.
EDWARD
Am I?
MARGOT
You don’t give an inch, do you?
EDWARD
Why should I?
MARGOT
Oh, I don’t know. Confidences and discussions of everything make life so much more amusing.
EDWARD
Modern society seems to demand intimacy all in a minute. You all lay bare your private affairs to comparative strangers without a qualm.
MARGOT
Oh, Edward, dear, _we’re_ not strangers.
EDWARD
We met for the first time six months ago.
MARGOT
It seems _ever_ so much more.
EDWARD
You’d told me all about Jim and Bobbie and your exact feelings toward each of them before we’d known each other a month.
MARGOT
It’s because you’re so sympathetic; you invite confidence.
EDWARD
Nonsense.
MARGOT
You’re being perfectly horrid to-day. Has anything happened to upset you?
EDWARD
No, I don’t think so.
MARGOT
Well I shan’t sit for you again unless you’re in a better temper.
EDWARD
Don’t be cross.
MARGOT
I’m not cross. I’m hurt.
EDWARD
I think perhaps I do feel a little nervy.
MARGOT
There now, I knew it.
[_BERRY enters with tea._]
EDWARD
Here’s tea, anyhow. When Lord Romford calls, Berry, show him straight in, will you?
BERRY
Yes, sir.
EDWARD
You’d better make some cocktails.
BERRY
Very well, sir.
[_He goes out._]
MARGOT
Do you want lemon or milk?
EDWARD
Neither, thanks. Just plain unvarnished tea.
MARGOT
Is that Katherine Loring? [_Looking at picture._]
EDWARD
Yes, unfinished.
MARGOT
She always is unfinished. She has a negligible personality, I’m afraid. Here you are.
[_She hands him his tea._]
EDWARD
Thank you.
MARGOT
I hear Zoe’s back.
EDWARD
Yes, she rang me up this morning.
MARGOT
Where’s she been, exactly?
EDWARD
All over the place.
MARGOT
Who with?
EDWARD
By herself, I believe.
MARGOT
My dear, she must have been with _somebody_. She couldn’t have been all alone after all that awful business. She’d have gone mad.
EDWARD
She’ll be here soon. You’ll be able to ask her about it.
MARGOT
You were engaged to her once, weren’t you?
EDWARD
Now then, Margot.
MARGOT
You were. I _know_ you were. Carol told me.
EDWARD
Well, as a matter of fact, we weren’t actually. We’ve been friends since we were children and we did discuss marriage at one time, but without great conviction.
MARGOT
I can’t understand why she let Kenneth divorce her. Everybody knows—
EDWARD
Zoe wished for her freedom and just went about getting it as quickly as possible.
MARGOT
Well I don’t know how she could have faced it. I shouldn’t have dared—
EDWARD
You’re less independent than she is.
MARGOT
I believe you’re going to be horrid again.
[_BERRY enters._]
BERRY
[_Announcing_]
Lord Romford.
[_BOBBIE ROMFORD enters. He is a nice-looking, meaningless young man._]
BOBBIE
Excuse my butting in like this, Churt.
[_He and EDWARD shake hands._]
EDWARD
We were expecting you. The cocktails will be here in a moment.
BOBBIE
Hallo, Margot! How’s the picture going?
MARGOT
It’s nearly finished, but Edward won’t let me see it. He’s been thoroughly soured up all the afternoon.
EDWARD
Margot has been trying to persuade me to brush my hair with her.
BOBBIE
[_Puzzled_]
Brush your hair?
EDWARD
Yes, metaphorically speaking.
BOBBIE
[_Relieved_]
Oh, I see.
EDWARD
Hair-brushing is a symbol of girlish confidences. Even the nicest people do it.
MARGOT
Edward shuts up like a clam the moment I try to discuss anything in the least interesting. Where have you been, Bobbie?
BOBBIE
Playing squash with Evie at the Bath Club.
EDWARD
Why didn’t you bring him along?
BOBBIE
He said he was coming on later.
MARGOT
I suppose he won.
BOBBIE
Yes; he always does.
[_Enter BERRY with a tray of cocktails._]
EDWARD
Put them down here, Berry. [_He clears a space on the table._] Do you want any more tea, Margot?
MARGOT
No thanks.
EDWARD
Take away the remains, then, Berry.
BERRY
Yes, sir.
[_He piles the tea things up and takes them out._]
BOBBIE
I saw your wife in St. James’s Street, Churt.
MARGOT
[_Eagerly_]
Who was she with?
BOBBIE
Harry Challoner.
MARGOT
I love Harry. Don’t you, Edward?
EDWARD
Passionately.
MARGOT
I expect they were going to Fanny’s. She’s got a mah-jong party. She seems to imagine it’s a novelty. I ought to be there, really, but I just felt I couldn’t bear it—all those hot scented women squabbling over the scores.
BOBBIE
Do you mind if I take a cigarette, Churt?
EDWARD
Of course not. I’m so sorry. [_He hands the box._] Margot?
MARGOT
Thanks, Edward dear.
[_BERRY enters._]
BERRY
[_Announcing_]
Mrs. St. Merryn.
[_ZOE ST. MERRYN enters. She is beautifully dressed and pleasantly unexaggerated._]
ZOE
Edward! [_She takes both his hands._] I’m terribly excited at seeing you again.
EDWARD
It’s grand, isn’t it, after a whole year.
ZOE
I’ve got so much to say I don’t know where to start. [_She sees MARGOT._] Margot, this is lovely. How are you?
[_They kiss._]
MARGOT
You look divine, darling. Do you know Bobbie?
ZOE
[_Shaking hands with him_]
Bobbie who?
MARGOT
Romford, dear.
ZOE
[_With a swift glance at MARGOT._]
Oh, yes, of course. I’ve heard of you.
MARGOT
_What_ have you heard? You must tell me.
ZOE
I can’t remember at the moment. Edward, give me a cigarette and a cocktail and tell me all about everything.
EDWARD
[_Ministering to her_]
Cigarette—cocktail—there.
ZOE
Thank you. Now then—
EDWARD
I don’t know where to start any better than you do.
ZOE
How’s Carol?
EDWARD
Awfully well.
ZOE
Where is she?
EDWARD
Out. She leads rather a hectic life I’m afraid—matinées, bridge, mah-jong, dancing—
ZOE
You reel off those four harmless occupations as though they were the most ignoble of human frailties.
EDWARD
I didn’t mean to, really.
ZOE
They’re wonderful _pis allers_ for people who don’t do things.
EDWARD
I don’t believe in _pis allers_.
ZOE
That’s not a virtue; it’s just part of your creative equipment.
MARGOT
I want to hear all about your travels, Zoe—where you’ve been and who with.
ZOE
[_Laughing_]
It’s difficult to remember accurately who I was with all the time. You may rest assured that I had an endless succession of lovers, beginning with an elderly mulatto in Honolulu and finishing with a retired matador in Seville.
EDWARD
I hope you’re satisfied, Margot.
MARGOT
Don’t be so annoying, Zoe. I really am frightfully interested.
ZOE
You always are, darling, in other people’s affairs.
MARGOT
Naturally—they all sound so much more entertaining than my own. Did you see Jim anywhere about in Spain?
ZOE
Yes, in Barcelona. He’d just come in from a yachting cruise.
MARGOT
[_Eagerly_]
_Who_ was with him? _Do_ tell me!
ZOE
Nobody. I met him coming out of a bathroom at the Ritz.
MARGOT
Did he look more or less unattached?
ZOE
Yes. He seemed quite happy.
EDWARD
Margot’s interest in her husband is so maternal, it always makes me feel as though I were in the presence of something sacred!
MARGOT
I’m awfully fond of Jim, really—particularly when he’s on a yachting cruise.
ZOE
Are you definitely living apart now?
MARGOT
Oh yes—except for religious festivals like Easter and Christmas; then we forgather and go down to Draycott with the children.
EDWARD
[_Smiling_]
It seems a comfortable arrangement, doesn’t it?
ZOE
Frightfully.
MARGOT
[_Reflectively_]
We _could_ get a divorce, I suppose, but it would make such dreary complications. And then when you’re free there’s the awful danger of starting the whole thing over again with some one else.
ZOE
I haven’t noticed it.
MARGOT
You will, I expect, dear—later on. [_She rises._] I’ve enjoyed my nice cocktail very much, thank you, Edward. I must go now. Come and lunch on Thursday, Zoe darling. I’ve only got Rebecca coming. She’ll adore seeing you again.
ZOE
All right. One-thirty?
MARGOT
Yes. Come along, Bobbie. Good-by, Edward. Give my love to Carol.
EDWARD
I will. Good bye.
BOBBIE
Good bye.
MARGOT
[_At door_]
You’ve come back from abroad a changed woman, Zoe, if _that’s_ any comfort to you.
[_She and BOBBIE go out._]
ZOE
What a sham Margot is, isn’t she?
EDWARD
Not really. Just a type.
ZOE
Yes, but she’s a type that couldn’t exist unless surrounded by false values.
EDWARD
She’s making the best of a bad job.
ZOE
She’s letting everything slide—morals, dignity, and discretion. Thank Heaven, I broke away. I might have got like that.
EDWARD
I wonder if breaking away _is_ such a very good plan.
ZOE
Of course it is. It’s the most regenerating thing in the world.
EDWARD
You’re so dashing, Zoe. Have another cigarette?
ZOE
[_Taking one_]
Thanks. I feel almost panic-stricken, you know.
EDWARD
Why?
ZOE
Coming back anywhere is always such a dreadful anti-climax.
EDWARD
Not such an anti-climax as staying still.
ZOE
To think that all this used to be my life before I let Kenneth divorce me.
EDWARD
It’s pretty futile, isn’t it?
ZOE
Futile! I return after a year’s oblivion, thrilled and excited, longing to see all my old friends, and what do I find? Clacking shallow nonentities doing the same things, saying the same things, thinking the same things. They’re stale. They seem to have lost all wit and charm, and restraint—or perhaps they never had any. Oh dear! I’ve never felt so depressed in my life.
EDWARD
I hope I haven’t let you down, too.
ZOE
No, Edward. You’re unchanged; a little dim, perhaps.
EDWARD
Dim?
ZOE
Yes. All your vitality seems to have been snuffed out by something. I expect it’s success. That’s always frightfully undermining.
EDWARD
Yes, I suppose it is.
ZOE
Are you pleased with everything?
EDWARD
Naturally.
ZOE
I’m sorry.
EDWARD
Why? Oughtn’t I to be?
ZOE
You oughtn’t to pretend.
EDWARD
Pretend?
ZOE
Yes. You never used to—with me, anyhow.
EDWARD
One gets into the habit of accepting things at their surface value and not looking any deeper.
ZOE
It’s a bad habit.
EDWARD
I must pretend. Don’t you see?
ZOE
No.
EDWARD
I’m successful—prosperous. I’ve got everything I wanted.
ZOE
You haven’t. You’ve merely got what other people think you wanted.
EDWARD
[_Smiling_]
You’re wonderfully stimulating, Zoe—like a breath of Brighton air.
ZOE
You look as if you need stimulating, badly.
EDWARD
I do.
ZOE
I’m glad I came back now.
EDWARD
So am I. Devoutly glad.
ZOE
What’s wrong?
EDWARD
Lots of things.
ZOE
Carol?
EDWARD
Yes.
ZOE
I thought so.
EDWARD
You were right from the first. It’s been a dreary failure.
ZOE
I apologize. It’s so irritating being right.
EDWARD
It doesn’t irritate me in the least. With anyone else it would, perhaps. But you’re different; you always have been.
ZOE
I know you better than most people.
EDWARD
I know you do.
ZOE
What has she been doing?
EDWARD
The obvious thing.
ZOE
I must say I consider marriage an overrated amusement.
EDWARD
I feel rather lost.
ZOE
Yes, I did, too—over Kenneth. It’s a nasty feeling.
EDWARD
It’s so difficult to know exactly the right attitude to adopt.
ZOE
Are you in love with her still?
EDWARD
I don’t know, really. Not violently like at first—that’s died down, naturally—but somehow—things get an awful hold on you, don’t they?
ZOE
Yes, fortunately for the sanctity of home life.
EDWARD
But the hold ought to be mutual.
ZOE
Quite.
EDWARD
I have moments of fierce rage, you know; then it evaporates, leaving a dead sort of a calm.
ZOE
How long have you known?
EDWARD
Ages, subconsciously; definitely, only a few weeks.
ZOE
Does she know you know?
EDWARD
She hasn’t the faintest suspicion. She’s always been marvelously self-assured.
ZOE
She’s a lovely creature—governed entirely by sex. That’s why she’s self-assured.
EDWARD
Will she always go on like this?
ZOE
I expect so. Anyhow, as long as she remains attractive—probably after. That’s the penalty of her type.
EDWARD
It’s beastly, isn’t it?
ZOE
Yes, but quite inevitable, I’m afraid. You see she’s got no intellect to provide ballast.
EDWARD
Poor Carol.
ZOE
I think you’re the one to be considered most at the present moment.
EDWARD
Do you think I ought to have a scene with her about it? I shrink from that. It seems to double the humiliation.
ZOE
I honestly don’t know what to say. She’s been actually unfaithful to you?
EDWARD
Yes.
ZOE
Often?
EDWARD
[_Wearily_]
I suppose so. Harry Challoner is in possession at present.
ZOE
Oh dear! How typical.
EDWARD
Everything of that sort is made so much easier for people nowadays. I suppose it’s an aftermath of the war.
ZOE
It’s the obvious result of this “barriers down” phase through which we seem to be passing. Everyone is at close quarters with everyone else. There’s no more glamour. Everything’s indefinite and blurred except sex, so people are instinctively turning to that with a rather jaded vigor. It’s pathetic when you begin to analyze it.
EDWARD
What fools they all are!
ZOE
[_Half smiling_]
Has being a success made you realize that?
EDWARD
Yes. There wasn’t time before.
ZOE
Why don’t you do what I did—go away?
EDWARD
It means sacrificing a good deal of work here in London. I’ve only just got my foot in, really.
ZOE
Divorce?
EDWARD
I don’t feel equal to it at the moment—all the vile publicity, and the lascivious curiosity leveled at Carol and me. It makes me shudder to think of it.
ZOE
For a society portrait-painter you seem unduly sensitive.
EDWARD
If I felt vindictive toward Carol it would be so much easier. But I don’t—I merely feel nauseated and frightfully, frightfully bored.
ZOE
The longer you allow it to drift, the worse it will become.
EDWARD
You think I ought to clinch it finally.
ZOE
Yes, I do. Once you’ve embarked you’ll feel better.
EDWARD
No, I shan’t.
ZOE
I believe you are still in love with her.
EDWARD
No; but I could be again if everything were all right. Oh, Zoe, I loathe this age and everything to do with it. Men of my sort are the products of over-civilization. All the red-blooded honest-to-God emotions have been squeezed out of us. We’re incapable of hating enough or loving enough. When any big moment comes along, good or bad, we hedge round it, arguing, weighing it in the balance of reason and psychology, trying to readjust the values until there’s nothing left and nothing achieved. I wish I were primitive enough to thrash Carol and drive her out of my life forever—or strong enough to hold her—but I’m not; I’m just an ass—an intelligent spineless ass!
[_He flings himself into a chair and takes a cigarette._]
ZOE
All the same, being the product of an Age equips you for grappling with it. You’ve got more chance as you are than, say, Evie Bathurst, for instance.
EDWARD
Evie goes straight for what he wants and gets it.
ZOE
He doesn’t demand as much as you.
EDWARD
He’s a damned sight happier.
ZOE
I should imagine he misses a good deal.
EDWARD
What does that matter? This situation could never happen to him. He wouldn’t let it.
ZOE
You mustn’t place too much faith in the strong and silent, Edward. They crumple up quicker than any of us when confronted with something outside their very limited range.
EDWARD
You don’t like Evie, do you?
ZOE
You forget I’ve been married to one of his species.
EDWARD
Evie’s not a cad.
ZOE
How do you know?
EDWARD
He could never behave as foully as Kenneth.
ZOE
Kenneth was never anything but an honorable, clean-living Englishman.
EDWARD
He divorced you.
ZOE
Only because I made him.
EDWARD
Why didn’t he let you divorce him?
ZOE
It would have been bad for his military career.
EDWARD
You deliberately put yourself in the wrong.
ZOE
Yes.
EDWARD
And you really think it was worth while?
ZOE
Certainly I do. Our mutual boredom was verging on hatred—there was no hope of getting back, ever. What’s the use of going on with a thing that’s dead and done for? I decided to break free.
EDWARD
Is one really happier free?
ZOE
Don’t be fatuous, Edward darling.
EDWARD
I don’t think I have enough initiative to do anything definite like that.
ZOE