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    The Squire: An Original Comedy in Three Acts
    The Squire: An Original Comedy in Three Acts
    The Squire: An Original Comedy in Three Acts
    Ebook123 pages1 hour

    The Squire: An Original Comedy in Three Acts

    By Arthur Wing Pinero

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    About this ebook

    'The Squire' is a three-act comedy written by Arthur Wing Pinero. In the first act, we learn that Izod, one of the main characters in this play, is a disreputable looking person who is pestering Chris for something to drink and money for tobacco. Chris gives him a mug of milk and tells him not to spend the money on tobacco but to have a meal instead.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGood Press
    Release dateDec 20, 2019
    ISBN4064066147419
    The Squire: An Original Comedy in Three Acts

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      Book preview

      The Squire - Arthur Wing Pinero

      Arthur Wing Pinero

      The Squire

      An Original Comedy in Three Acts

      Published by Good Press, 2022

      goodpress@okpublishing.info

      EAN 4064066147419

      Table of Contents

      THE SQUIRE

      ACT I. — THE SECRET.

      ACT II. — THE SIREN.

      ACT III. — GOOD-BYE.

      Produced at the St. James's Theatre, London, on December 29th, 1881 with the following cast:--

      Characters:

      THE SQUIRE

      Table of Contents

      ACT I. — THE SECRET.

      Table of Contents

      Scene:—The exterior of a decayed, weatherbeaten, Elizabethan 'mansion, overgrown with ivy and autumn-tinted creeper. On the R., the lower part of a tower, square or circular. Facing the audience, about five feet from the ground, a door opening into the tower, the entrance proper to the house. This door leads out on to a stone terrace, which is run off the stage R., and which terminates R. C., in a few broken and irregular steps. At the foot of the steps, C., of stage, an old halting stone. Below the terrace, R., a wooden garden seat. On the R., of garden seat, a small rustic table, on which is a work-basket with materials for needlework. At back, up stage, the house runs from R., to L., In R., corner, a piece of broken stonework, almost concealed by ivy, forming a footing to gain a broad beam which runs about twelve feet from the ground, from R., to L., Above the beam, two substantial casement windows, R., c. and L., Below the beams, R., C., a window, and on the L. a large archway, with broken iron gates leaning against its walls. Through the archway, a bright view of farm lands, ricks, etc., etc. On the L., continuing the house wall, down the stage, an outhouse, suggesting a kitchen dairy; outside this, up stage L., a wooden bench with milk-pails, etc. Down stage, a door leading into outhouse. Above door, L., C., rough deal table and two chairs. The ground is flagged with broken stones, which are much overgrown with moss and weed.

      (Bright Music at opening. Lights full up. At rise

      of curtain, the bell rings in a discordant way.

      Christiana Haggerston discovered L., scrubbing

      a small wooden pail. Christiana is a handsome

      dark woman with the tinge of the gipsy upon her

      face.)

      Chris. What is it? (puts pail on form L., goes

      up into archway and looks off R.)

      Izod. (offstage) Hullo! Christie!

      Chris. Why, come in, Izod, darling—what's

      wrong?

      Izod. (R. off stage) It's the dog, he can't abide

      me.

      (Chris, hurls her scrubbing brush at the dog.)

      Chris. (savagely) Lie down, you beast, (softly) Come along, Izod, dear! (comes down)

      (Izod backs on as though afraid of dog. Izod

      Haggerston enters through archway. He is a little

      thin, dark fellow—half cad, half gipsy—with a

      brown face, and crisp, curly, black hair. He is

      dirty and disreputable, an idler and a sneak.)

      (L. C.—putting her arms round his neck) I haven't

      seen you for nearly a week, brother dear.

      Izod. (C., shaking himself clear) All right, don't

      maul, Christie. If the Squire was commonly civil

      to a poor chap, you'd see a little more of me. I

      want something to drink, and some coin for tobacco.

      Chris. (standing by him and stroking his head) No luck, dearie?

      Izod. Luck! No! The farmers won't look at

      a fellow with a dark skin—curse 'em!

      Chris. The brutes. (fondling him)

      Izod. Well, don't maul, Christie. I'm dead dry.

      Chris, (looking round) Wait here and I'll bring

      you a drink, (she crosses to L.)

      (She goes into outhouse L., Izod looks round

      towards door R., C., with an evil expression. He then

      deliberately takes off the coloured handkerchief

      which he wears round his neck, unfolds it and

      produces a bunch of bright keys.)

      Izod. (jingling the keys and looking towards

      door R., C., ) Keys! I wonder if keys are worth

      anything. (slips keys into side pocket, and crosses

      to door L., meeting Chris., who comes out with a

      mug of milk. Snatching it from her) There's a

      dear! (he puts mug to lips and takes it away quickly,

      wiping his mouth with the back of his hand) Pah!

      You're a good sort of a sister—milk!

      Chris. I dursn't tap the ale without Squire's

      orders—the new barrel isn't to be touched till the

      Harvest Feast. Down with it—it's meat and drink.

      Izod. Ugh! Here goes! Confound the Squire!

      (he drinks, gives back mug and holds out hand for

      coin. She puts mug on table) Coin for tobacco.

      Chris. Don't spend your money on tobacco, darling.

      Have a meal.

      Izod. I had a meal yesterday, mid-day. (proudly) I earned two shillings in half-an-hour.

      Chris. Good gracious! How?

      Izod. (walking R., and back) I and old Mrs.

      Thorndyke's gardener carried a sick woman on a litter

      from Pagley Railway Station to the White Lion,

      at Market-Sinfield. Oh, she was a weight! (sits R.

      of L., table)

      Chris. Carried a sick woman on a litter? (leans

      against table L., of it)

      Izod. The railway journey had upset her, and the

      doctor said she was too ill to be shook up on the

      roadway.

      Chris. A common woman or a lady?

      Izod. A lady—jolly dark, jolly pretty, and

      jolly ill.

      Chris. (curiously) What does she do at an inn in

      Market-Sinfield? (sits on table)

      Izod. She gave out that she was a stranger in

      these parts, and wanted to see a clergyman. She

      was a weight!

      Chris. Well?

      Izod. So I fetched Mr. Dormer, the mad parson.

      Chris. Did he go to her?

      Izod. I dunno. Coin for tobacco! (rises)

      (Izod goes up to arch.)

      Chris. I've only got

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