Part 5
MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship, he was almost quite drunk.
MAGISTRATE. And did he say anything to you?
MRS. JONES. No, your Worship, only to call me names. And of course in the morning when I got up and went to work he was asleep. And I don't know anything more about it until I came home again. Except that Mr. BARTHWICK--that 's my employer, your Worship--told me the box was missing.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes.
MRS. JONES. But of course when I was shaking out my husband's coat the cigarette-box fell out and all the cigarettes were scattered on the bed.
MAGISTRATE. You say all the cigarettes were scattered on the bed? [To SNOW.] Did you see the cigarettes scattered on the bed?
SNOW. No, your Worship, I did not.
MAGISTRATE. You see he says he did n't see them.
JONES. Well, they were there for all that.
SNOW. I can't say, your Worship, that I had the opportunity of going round the room; I had all my work cut out with the male prisoner.
MAGISTRATE. [To MRS. JONES.] Well, what more have you to say?
MRS. JONES. Of course when I saw the box, your Worship, I was dreadfully upset, and I could n't think why he had done such a thing; when the officer came we were having words about it, because it is ruin to me, your Worship, in my profession, and I have three little children dependent on me.
MAGISTRATE. [Protruding his neck]. Yes--yes--but what did he say to you?
MRS. JONES. I asked him whatever came over him to do such a thing --and he said it was the drink. He said he had had too much to drink, and something came over him. And of course, your Worship, he had had very little to eat all day, and the drink does go to the head when you have not had enough to eat. Your Worship may not know, but it is the truth. And I would like to say that all through his married life, I have never known him to do such a thing before, though we have passed through great hardships and [speaking with soft emphasis] I am quite sure he would not have done it if he had been himself at the time.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes. But don't you know that that is no excuse?
MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship. I know that it is no excuse.
[The MAGISTRATE leans over and parleys with his CLERK.]
JACK. [Leaning over from his seat behind.] I say, Dad----
BARTHWICK. Tsst! [Sheltering his mouth he speaks to ROPER.] Roper, you had better get up now and say that considering the circumstances and the poverty of the prisoners, we have no wish to proceed any further, and if the magistrate would deal with the case as one of disorder only on the part of----
BALD CONSTABLE. HSSShh!
[ROPER shakes his head.]
MAGISTRATE. Now, supposing what you say and what your husband says is true, what I have to consider is--how did he obtain access to this house, and were you in any way a party to his obtaining access? You are the charwoman employed at the house?
MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship, and of course if I had let him into the house it would have been very wrong of me; and I have never done such a thing in any of the houses where I have been employed.
MAGISTRATE. Well--so you say. Now let us hear what story the male prisoner makes of it.
JONES. [Who leans with his arms on the dock behind, speaks in a slow, sullen voice.] Wot I say is wot my wife says. I 've never been 'ad up in a police court before, an' I can prove I took it when in liquor. I told her, and she can tell you the same, that I was goin' to throw the thing into the water sooner then 'ave it on my mind.
MAGISTRATE. But how did you get into the HOUSE?
JONES. I was passin'. I was goin' 'ome from the "Goat and Bells."
MAGISTRATE. The "Goat and Bells,"--what is that? A public-house?
JONES. Yes, at the corner. It was Bank 'oliday, an' I'd 'ad a drop to drink. I see this young Mr. BARTHWICK tryin' to find the keyhole on the wrong side of the door.
MAGISTRATE. Well?
JONES. [Slowly and with many pauses.] Well---I 'elped 'im to find it--drunk as a lord 'e was. He goes on, an' comes back again, and says, I 've got nothin' for you, 'e says, but come in an' 'ave a drink. So I went in just as you might 'ave done yourself. We 'ad a drink o' whisky just as you might have 'ad, 'nd young Mr. BARTHWICK says to me, "Take a drink 'nd a smoke. Take anything you like, 'e says." And then he went to sleep on the sofa. I 'ad some more whisky--an' I 'ad a smoke--and I 'ad some more whisky--an' I carn't tell yer what 'appened after that.
MAGISTRATE. Do you mean to say that you were so drunk that you can remember nothing?
JACK. [Softly to his father.] I say, that's exactly what----
BARTHWICK. TSSh!
JONES. That's what I do mean.
MAGISTRATE. And yet you say you stole the box?
JONES. I never stole the box. I took it.
MAGISTRATE. [Hissing with protruded neck.] You did not steal it-- you took it. Did it belong to you--what is that but stealing?
JONES. I took it.
MAGISTRATE. You took it--you took it away from their house and you took it to your house----
JONES. [Sullenly breaking in.] I ain't got a house.
MAGISTRATE. Very well, let us hear what this young man Mr.--Mr. BARTHWICK has to say to your story.
[SNOW leaves the witness-box. The BALD CONSTABLE beckons JACK, who, clutching his hat, goes into the witness-box. ROPER moves to the table set apart for his profession.]
SWEARING CLERK. The evidence you give to the court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God. Kiss the book.
[The book is kissed.]
ROPER. [Examining.] What is your name?
JACK. [In a low voice.] John BARTHWICK, Junior.
[The CLERK writes it down.]
ROPER. Where do you live?
JACK. At 6, Rockingham Gate.
[All his answers are recorded by the Clerk.]
ROPER. You are the son of the owner?
JACK. [In a very low voice.] Yes.
ROPER. Speak up, please. Do you know the prisoners?
JACK. [Looking at the JONESES, in a low voice.] I 've seen Mrs. Jones. I [in a loud voice] don't know the man.
JONES. Well, I know you!
BALD CONSTABLE. HSSh!
ROPER. Now, did you come in late on the night of Easter Monday?
JACK. Yes.
ROPER. And did you by mistake leave your latch key in the door?
JACK. Yes.
MAGISTRATE. Oh! You left your latch-key in the door?
ROPER. And is that all you can remember about your coming in?
JACK. [In a loud voice.] Yes, it is.
MAGISTRATE. Now, you have heard the male prisoner's story, what do you say to that?
JACK. [Turning to the MAGISTRATE, speaks suddenly in a confident, straight-forward voice.] The fact of the matter is, sir, that I 'd been out to the theatre that night, and had supper afterwards, and I came in late.
MAGISTRATE. Do you remember this man being outside when you came in?
JACK. No, Sir. [He hesitates.] I don't think I do.
MAGISTRATE. [Somewhat puzzled.] Well, did he help you to open the door, as he says? Did any one help you to open the door?
JACK. No, sir--I don't think so, sir--I don't know.
MAGISTRATE. You don't know? But you must know. It is n't a usual thing for you to have the door opened for you, is it?
JACK. [With a shamefaced smile.] No.
MAGISTRATE. Very well, then----
JACK. [Desperately.] The fact of the matter is, sir, I'm afraid I'd had too much champagne that night.
MAGISTRATE. [Smiling.] Oh! you'd had too much champagne?
JONES. May I ask the gentleman a question?
MAGISTRATE. Yes--yes--you may ask him what questions you like.
JONES. Don't you remember you said you was a Liberal, same as your father, and you asked me wot I was?
JACK. [With his hand against his brow.] I seem to remember----
JONES. And I said to you, "I'm a bloomin' Conservative," I said; an' you said to me, "You look more like one of these 'ere Socialists. Take wotever you like," you said.
JACK. [With sudden resolution.] No, I don't. I don't remember anything of the sort.
JONES. Well, I do, an' my word's as good as yours. I 've never been had up in a police court before. Look 'ere, don't you remember you had a sky-blue bag in your 'and [BARTHWICK jumps.]
ROPER. I submit to your worship that these questions are hardly to the point, the prisoner having admitted that he himself does not remember anything. [There is a smile on the face of Justice.] It is a case of the blind leading the blind.
JONES. [Violently.] I've done no more than wot he 'as. I'm a poor man; I've got no money an' no friends--he 's a toff--he can do wot I can't.
MAGISTRATE: Now, now? All this won't help you--you must be quiet. You say you took this box? Now, what made you take it? Were you pressed for money?
JONES. I'm always pressed for money.
MAGISTRATE. Was that the reason you took it?
JONES. No.
MAGISTRATE. [To SNOW.] Was anything found on him?
SNOW. Yes, your worship. There was six pounds twelve shillin's found on him, and this purse.
[The red silk purse is handed to the MAGISTRATE. BARTHWICK rises his seat, but hastily sits down again.]
MAGISTRATE. [Staring at the purse.] Yes, yes--let me see [There is a silence.] No, no, I 've nothing before me as to the purse. How did you come by all that money?
JONES. [After a long pause, suddenly.] I declines to say.
MAGISTRATE. But if you had all that money, what made you take this box?
JONES. I took it out of spite.
MAGISTRATE. [Hissing, with protruded neck.] You took it out of spite? Well now, that's something! But do you imagine you can go about the town taking things out of spite?
JONES. If you had my life, if you'd been out of work----
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes; I know--because you're out of work you think it's an excuse for everything.
JONES. [Pointing at JACK.] You ask 'im wot made 'im take the----
ROPER. [Quietly.] Does your Worship require this witness in the box any longer?
MAGISTRATE. [Ironically.] I think not; he is hardly profitable.
[JACK leaves the witness-box, and hanging his head, resumes his seat.]
JONES. You ask 'im wot made 'im take the lady's----
[But the BALD CONSTABLE catches him by the sleeve.]
BALD CONSTABLE. SSSh!
MAGISTRATE. [Emphatically.] Now listen to me.
I 've nothing to do with what he may or may not have taken. Why did you resist the police in the execution of their duty?
JONES. It war n't their duty to take my wife, a respectable woman, that 'ad n't done nothing.
MAGISTRATE. But I say it was. What made you strike the officer a blow?
JONES. Any man would a struck 'im a blow. I'd strike 'im again, I would.
MAGISTRATE. You are not making your case any better by violence. How do you suppose we could get on if everybody behaved like you?
JONES. [Leaning forward, earnestly.] Well, wot, about 'er; who's to make up to 'er for this? Who's to give 'er back 'er good name?
MRS. JONES. Your Worship, it's the children that's preying on his mind, because of course I 've lost my work. And I've had to find another room owing to the scandal.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, I know--but if he had n't acted like this nobody would have suffered.
JONES. [Glaring round at JACK.] I 've done no worse than wot 'e 'as. Wot I want to know is wot 's goin' to be done to 'im.
[The BALD CONSTABLE again says "HSSh"]
ROPER. Mr. BARTHWICK wishes it known, your Worship, that considering the poverty of the prisoners, he does not press the charge as to the box. Perhaps your Worship would deal with the case as one of disorder.
JONES. I don't want it smothered up, I want it all dealt with fair --I want my rights----
MAGISTRATE. [Rapping his desk.] Now you have said all you have to say, and you will be quiet.
[There is a silence; the MAGISTRATE bends over and parleys with his CLERK.]
Yes, I think I may discharge the woman. [In a kindly voice he addresses MRS. JONES, who stands unmoving with her hands crossed on the rail.] It is very unfortunate for you that this man has behaved as he has. It is not the consequences to him but the consequences to you. You have been brought here twice, you have lost your work-- [He glares at JONES]--and this is what always happens. Now you may go away, and I am very sorry it was necessary to bring you here at all.
MRS. JONES. [Softly.] Thank you very much, your Worship.
[She leaves the dock, and looking back at JONES, twists her fingers and is still.]
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, but I can't pass it over. Go away, there's a good woman.
[MRS. JONES stands back. The MAGISTRATE leans his head on his hand; then raising it he speaks to JONES.]
Now, listen to me. Do you wish the case to be settled here, or do you wish it to go before a jury?
JONES. [Muttering.] I don't want no jury.
MAGISTRATE. Very well then, I will deal with it here. [After a pause.] You have pleaded guilty to stealing this box----
JONES. Not to stealin'----
BALD CONSTABLE. HSSShh!
MAGISTRATE. And to assaulting the police----
JONES. Any man as was a man----
MAGISTRATE. Your conduct here has been most improper. You give the excuse that you were drunk when you stole the box. I tell you that is no excuse. If you choose to get drunk and break the law afterwards you must take the consequences. And let me tell you that men like you, who get drunk and give way to your spite or whatever it is that's in you, are--are--a nuisance to the community.
JACK. [Leaning from his seat.] Dad! that's what you said to me!
BARTHWICK. TSSt!
[There is a silence, while the MAGISTRATE consults his CLERK; JONES leans forward waiting.]
MAGISTRATE. This is your first offence, and I am going to give you a light sentence. [Speaking sharply, but without expression.] One month with hard labour.
[He bends, and parleys with his CLERK. The BALD CONSTABLE and another help JONES from the dock.]
JONES. [Stopping and twisting round.] Call this justice? What about 'im? 'E got drunk! 'E took the purse--'e took the purse but [in a muffled shout] it's 'is money got 'im off--JUSTICE!
[The prisoner's door is shut on JONES, and from the seedy-looking men and women comes a hoarse and whispering groan.]
MAGISTRATE. We will now adjourn for lunch! [He rises from his seat.]
[The Court is in a stir. ROPER gets up and speaks to the reporter. JACK, throwing up his head, walks with a swagger to the corridor; BARTHWICK follows.]
MRS. JONES. [Turning to him zenith a humble gesture.] Oh! sir!
[BARTHWICK hesitates, then yielding to his nerves, he makes a shame-faced gesture of refusal, and hurries out of court. MRS. JONES stands looking after him.]
The curtain falls.
JOY
A PLAY ON THE LETTER "I"
IN THREE ACTS
PERSONS OF THE PLAY
COLONEL HOPE, R.A., retired MRS. HOPE, his wife MISS BEECH, their old governess LETTY, their daughter ERNEST BLUNT, her husband MRS. GWYN, their niece JOY, her daughter DICK MERTON, their young friend HON. MAURICE LEVER, their guest ROSE, their parlour-maid
TIME: The present. The action passes throughout midsummer day on the lawn of Colonel Hope's house, near the Thames above Oxford.
## ACT I
The time is morning, and the scene a level lawn, beyond which the river is running amongst fields. A huge old beech tree overshadows everything, in the darkness of whose hollow many things are hidden. A rustic seat encircles it. A low wall clothed in creepers, with two openings, divides this lawn from the flowery approaches to the house. Close to the wall there is a swing. The sky is clear and sunny. COLONEL HOPE is seated in a garden-chair, reading a newspaper through pince-nez. He is fifty-five and bald, with drooping grey moustaches and a weather-darkened face. He wears a flannel suit and a hat from Panama; a tennis racquet leans against his chair. MRS. HOPE comes quickly through the opening of the wall, with roses in her hands. She is going grey; she wears tan gauntlets, and no hat. Her manner is decided, her voice emphatic, as though aware that there is no nonsense in its owner's composition. Screened from sight, MISS BEECH is seated behind the hollow tree; and JOY is perched on a lower branch hidden by foliage.
MRS. HOPE. I told Molly in my letter that she'd have to walk up, Tom.
COLONEL. Walk up in this heat? My dear, why didn't you order Benson's fly?
MRS. HOPE. Expense for nothing! Bob can bring up her things in the barrow. I've told Joy I won't have her going down to meet the train. She's so excited about her mother's coming there's no doing anything with her.
COLONEL. No wonder, after two months.
MRS. HOPE. Well, she's going home to-morrow; she must just keep herself fresh for the dancing tonight. I'm not going to get people in to dance, and have Joy worn out before they begin.
COLONEL. [Dropping his paper.] I don't like Molly's walking up.
MRS. HOPE. A great strong woman like Molly Gwyn! It isn't half a mile.
COLONEL. I don't like it, Nell; it's not hospitable.
MRS. HOPE. Rubbish! If you want to throw away money, you must just find some better investment than those wretched 3 per cents. of yours. The greenflies are in my roses already! Did you ever see anything so disgusting? [They bend over the roses they have grown, and lose all sense of everything.] Where's the syringe? I saw you mooning about with it last night, Tom.
COLONEL. [Uneasily.] Mooning!
[He retires behind his paper. MRS. HOPE enters the hollow of the tree.]
There's an account of that West Australian swindle. Set of ruffians! Listen to this, Nell! "It is understood that amongst the share-holders are large numbers of women, clergymen, and Army officers." How people can be such fools!
[Becoming aware that his absorption is unobserved, he drops his glasses, and reverses his chair towards the tree.]
MRS. HOPE. [Reappearing with a garden syringe.] I simply won't have Dick keep his fishing things in the tree; there's a whole potful of disgusting worms. I can't touch them. You must go and take 'em out, Tom.
[In his turn the COLONEL enters the hollow of the tree.]
MRS. HOPE. [Personally.] What on earth's the pleasure of it? I can't see! He never catches anything worth eating.
[The COLONEL reappears with a paint pot full of worms; he holds them out abstractedly.]
MRS. HOPE. [Jumping.] Don't put them near me!
MISS BEECH. [From behind the tree.] Don't hurt the poor creatures.
COLONEL. [Turning.] Hallo, Peachey? What are you doing round there?
[He puts the worms down on the seat.]
MRS. HOPE. Tom, take the worms off that seat at once!
COLONEL. [Somewhat flurried.] Good gad! I don't know what to do with the beastly worms!
MRS. HOPE. It's not my business to look after Dick's worms. Don't put them on the ground. I won't have them anywhere where they can crawl about. [She flicks some greenflies off her roses.]
COLONEL. [Looking into the pot as though the worms could tell him where to put them.] Dash!
MISS BEECH. Give them to me.
MRS. HOPE. [Relieved.] Yes, give them to Peachey.
[There comes from round the tree Miss BEECH, old-fashioned, barrel-shaped, balloony in the skirts. She takes the paint pot, and sits beside it on the rustic seat.]
MISS BEECH. Poor creatures!
MRS. HOPE. Well, it's beyond me how you can make pets of worms- wriggling, crawling, horrible things!
[ROSE, who is young and comely, in a pale print frock, comes from the house and places letters before her on a silver salver.]
[Taking the letters.]
What about Miss joy's frock, Rose?
ROSE. Please, 'm, I can't get on with the back without Miss Joy.
MRS. HOPE. Well, then you must just find her. I don't know where she is.
ROSE. [In a slow, sidelong manner.] If you please, Mum, I think Miss Joy's up in the----
[She stops, seeing Miss BEECH signing to her with both hands.]
MRS. HOPE. [Sharply.] What is it, Peachey?
MISS BEECH. [Selecting a finger.] Pricked meself!
MRS. HOPE. Let's look!
[She bends to look, but Miss BEECH places the finger in her mouth.]
ROSE. [Glancing askance at the COLONEL.] If you please, Mum, it's below the waist; I think I can manage with the dummy.
MRS. HOPE. Well, you can try. [Opening her letter as ROSE retires.] Here's Molly about her train.
MISS BEECH. Is there a letter for me?
MRS. HOPE. No, Peachey.
MISS BEECH. There never is.
COLONEL. What's that? You got four by the first post.
MISS BEECH. Exceptions!
COLONEL. [Looking over his glasses.] Why! You know, you get 'em every day!
MRS. HOPE. Molly says she'll be down by the eleven thirty. [In an injured voice.] She'll be here in half an hour! [Reading with disapproval from the letter.] "MAURICE LEVER is coming down by the same train to see Mr. Henty about the Tocopala Gold Mine. Could you give him a bed for the night?"
[Silence, slight but ominous.]
COLONEL. [Calling into his aid his sacred hospitality.] Of course we must give him a bed!
MRS. HOPE. Just like a man! What room I should like to know!
COLONEL. Pink.
MRS. HOPE. As if Molly wouldn't have the pink!
COLONEL. [Ruefully.] I thought she'd have the blue!
MRS. HOPE. You know perfectly well it's full of earwigs, Tom. I killed ten there yesterday morning.
MISS BEECH. Poor creatures!
MRS. HOPE. I don't know that I approve of this Mr. Lever's dancing attendance. Molly's only thirty-six.
COLONEL. [In a high voice.] You can't refuse him a bed; I never heard of such a thing.
MRS. HOPE. [Reading from the letter.] "This gold mine seems to be a splendid chance. [She glances at the COLONEL.] I've put all my spare cash into it. They're issuing some Preference shares now; if Uncle Tom wants an investment"--[She pauses, then in a changed, decided voice ]--Well, I suppose I shall have to screw him in somehow.
COLONEL. What's that about gold mines? Gambling nonsense! Molly ought to know my views.
MRS. HOPE. [Folding the letter away out of her consciousness.] Oh! your views! This may be a specially good chance.
MISS BEECH. Ahem! Special case!
MRS. HOPE. [Paying no attention.] I 'm sick of these 3 per cent. dividends. When you've only got so little money, to put it all into that India Stock, when it might be earning 6 per cent. at least, quite safely! There are ever so many things I want.
COLONEL. There you go!
MRS. HOPE. As to Molly, I think it's high time her husband came home to look after her, instead of sticking out there in that hot place. In fact
[Miss BEECH looks up at the tree and exhibits cerebral excitement]
I don't know what Geoff's about; why doesn't he find something in England, where they could live together.
COLONEL. Don't say anything against Molly, Nell!