'I'm glad you like it, old chap,' said Doxey. 'I thought you would.'
They were in Henry's study, seated almost side by side at Henry's great American roll-top desk.
'You've got it a bit hard in places,' Henry pursued. 'But I'll soon put that right.'
'Can you do it to-day?' asked the adapter.
'Why?'
'Because I know old Johnny Pilgrim wants to shove a new curtain-raiser into the bill at once. If I could take him this to-morrow——'
'I'll post it to you to-night,' said Henry. 'But I shall want to see Mr. Pilgrim myself before anything is definitely arranged.'
[Pg 309]
'Oh, of course,' Mr. Doxey agreed. 'Of course. I'll tell him.'
Henry softened2 the rigour of his collaborator's pen in something like half an hour. The perusal3 of this trifling4 essay in the dramatic form (it certainly did not exceed four thousand words, and could be played in twenty-five minutes) filled his mind with a fresh set of ideas. He suspected that he could write for the stage rather better than Mr. Doxey, and he saw, with the eye of faith, new plumes5 waving in his cap. He was aware, because he had read it in the papers, that the English drama needed immediate6 assistance, and he determined7 to render that assistance. The first instalment of The Plague-Spot had just come out in the July number of Macalistair's Magazine, and the extraordinary warmth of its reception had done nothing to impair8 Henry's belief in his gift for pleasing the public. Hence he stretched out a hand to the West End stage with a magnanimous gesture of rescuing the fallen.
And yet, curiously9 enough, when he entered the stage-door of Prince's Theatre one afternoon, to see John Pilgrim, he was as meek10 as if the world had never heard of him.
[Pg 310]
He informed the doorkeeper that he had an appointment with Mr. Pilgrim, whereupon the doorkeeper looked him over, took a pull at a glass of rum-and-milk, and said he would presently inquire whether Mr. Pilgrim could see anyone. The passage from the portals of the theatre to Mr. Pilgrim's private room occupied exactly a quarter of an hour.
Then, upon beholding11 the figure of John Pilgrim, he seemed suddenly to perceive what fame and celebrity12 and renown13 really were. Here was the man whose figure and voice were known to every theatre-goer in England and America, and to every idler who had once glanced at a photograph-window; the man who for five-and-twenty years had stilled unruly crowds by a gesture, conquered the most beautiful women with a single smile, died for the fatherland, and lived for love, before a nightly audience of two thousand persons; who existed absolutely in the eye of the public, and who long ago had formed a settled, honest, serious conviction that he was the most interesting and remarkable14 phenomenon in the world. In the ingenuous15 mind of Mr. Pilgrim the universe was the frame, and John Pilgrim was[Pg 311] the picture: his countless16 admirers had forced him to think so.
Mr. Pilgrim greeted Henry as though in a dream.
'What name?' he whispered, glancing round, apparently17 not quite sure whether they were alone and unobserved.
He seemed to be trying to awake from his dream, to recall the mundane18 and the actual, without success.
He said, still whispering, that the little play pleased him.
'Let me see,' he reflected. 'Didn't Doxey say that you had written other things?'
'Several books,' Henry informed him.
'Books? Ah!' Mr. Pilgrim had the air of trying to imagine what sort of thing books were. 'That's very interesting. Novels?'
'Yes,' said Henry.
Mr. Pilgrim, opening his magnificent chest and passing a hand through his brown hair, grew impressively humble19. 'You must excuse my ignorance,' he explained. 'I am afraid I'm not quite abreast20 of modern literature. I never read.' And he repeated firmly: 'I never read. Not[Pg 312] even the newspapers. What time have I for reading?' he whispered sadly. 'In my brougham, I snatch a glance at the contents-bills of the evening papers. No more.'
Henry had the idea that even to be ignored by John Pilgrim was more flattering than to be admired by the rest of mankind.
Mr. Pilgrim rose and walked several times across the room; then addressed Henry mysteriously and imposingly21:
'I've got the finest theatre in London.'
'Yes?' said Henry.
'In the world,' Mr. Pilgrim corrected himself.
Then he walked again, and again stopped.
'I'll produce your piece,' he whispered. 'Yes, I'll produce it.'
He spoke22 as if saying also: 'You will have a difficulty in crediting this extraordinary and generous decision: nevertheless you must endeavour to do so.'
'Of course I shan't play in it myself,' added Mr. Pilgrim, laughing as one laughs at a fantastic conceit25.
'No, naturally not,' said Henry.
[Pg 313]
'Nor will Jane,' said Mr. Pilgrim.
Jane Map was Mr. Pilgrim's leading lady, for the time being.
'And about terms, young man?' Mr. Pilgrim demanded, folding his arms. 'What is your notion of terms?'
Now, Henry had taken the precaution of seeking advice concerning fair terms.
'One pound a performance is my notion,' he answered.
'I never give more than ten shillings a night for a curtain-raiser,' said Mr. Pilgrim ultimatively, 'Never. I can't afford to.'
'I'm afraid that settles it, then, Mr. Pilgrim,' said Henry.
'You'll take ten shillings?'
'I'll take a pound. I can't take less. I'm like you, I can't afford to.'
John Pilgrim showed a faint interest in Henry's singular—indeed, incredible—attitude.
'You don't mean to say,' he mournfully murmured, 'that you'll miss the chance of having your play produced in my theatre for the sake of half a sovereign?'
Before Henry could reply to this grieved[Pg 314] question, Jane Map burst into the room. She was twenty-five, tall, dark, and arresting. John Pilgrim had found her somewhere.
'Not the author of The Plague-Spot?' asked Jane Map, clasping her jewelled fingers.
'Are you the author of The Plague-Spot?' Mr. Pilgrim whispered—'whatever The Plague-Spot is.'
The next moment Jane Map was shaking hands effusively27 with Henry. 'I just adore you!' she told him. 'And your Love in Babylon—oh, Mr. Knight, how do you think of such beautiful stories?'
John Pilgrim sank into a chair and closed his eyes.
'Oh, you must take it! you must take it!' cried Jane to John, as soon as she learnt that a piece based on Love in Babylon was under discussion. 'I shall play Enid Anstruther myself. Don't you see me in it, Mr. Knight?'
'Mr. Knight's terms are twice mine,' John Pilgrim intoned, without opening his eyes. 'He wants a pound a night.'
[Pg 315]
'He must have it,' said Jane Map. 'If I'm in the piece——'
'But, Jane——'
'I insist!' said Jane, with fire.
'Very well, Mr. Knight,' John Pilgrim continued to intone, his eyes still shut, his legs stretched out, his feet resting perpendicularly28 on the heels. 'Jane insists. You understand—Jane insists. Take your pound, I call the first rehearsal29 for Monday.'
Thenceforward Henry lived largely in the world of the theatre, a pariah's life, the life almost of a poor relation. Doxey appeared to enjoy the existence; it was Doxey's brief hour of bliss30. But Henry, spoilt by editors, publishers, and the reading public, could not easily reconcile himself to the classical position of an author in the world of the theatre. It hurt him to encounter the prevalent opinion that, just as you cannot have a dog without a tail or a stump31, so you cannot have a play without an author. The actors and actresses were the play, and when they were pleased with themselves the author was expected to fulfil his sole function of wagging.
[Pg 316]
Even Jane Map, Henry's confessed adorer, was the victim, Henry thought, of a highly-distorted sense of perspective. The principal comfort which he derived32 from Jane Map was that she ignored Doxey entirely33.
The preliminary rehearsals34 were desolating35. Henry went away from the first one convinced that the piece would have to be rewritten from end to end. No performer could make anything of his own part, and yet each was sure that all the other parts were effective in the highest degree.
At the fourth rehearsal John Pilgrim came down to direct. He sat in the dim stalls by Henry's side, and Henry could hear him murmuring softly and endlessly:
'Punch, brothers, punch with care—
Punch in the presence of the passenjare!'
The scene was imagined to represent a studio, and Jane Map, as Enid Anstruther, was posing on the model's throne.
'Well,' Jane retorted, 'I am an artist's model.'
[Pg 317]
'No, you aren't,' said John. 'You're an actress on my stage, and you must pose like one.'
Whereupon Mr. Pilgrim ascended37 to the stage and began to arrange Jane's limbs. By accident Jane's delightful38 elbow came into contact with John Pilgrim's eye. The company was horror-struck as Mr. Pilgrim lowered his head and pressed a handkerchief to that eye.
'Jane, Jane!' he complained in his hoarse39 and conspiratorial40 whisper, 'I've been teaching you the elements of your art for two years, and all you have achieved is to poke23 your elbow in my eye. The rehearsal is stopped.'
And everybody went home.
However, as the first night approached, the condition of affairs improved a little, and Henry saw with satisfaction that the resemblance of Prince's Theatre to a lunatic asylum42 was more superficial than real. Also, the tone of the newspapers in referring to the imminent43 production convinced even John Pilgrim that Henry was perhaps not quite an ordinary author. John Pilgrim cancelled a proof of a poster which he[Pg 318] had already passed, and ordered a double-crown, thus:
LOVE IN BABYLON.
A PLAY IN ONE ACT, FOUNDED ON
HENRY SHAKSPERE KNIGHT'S
FAMOUS NOVEL.
BY
Henry Shakspere Knight and Alfred Doxey.
ENID ANSTRUTHER—MISS JANE MAP.
Geraldine met Jane, and asked her to tea at the flat. And Geraldine hired a brougham at thirty pounds a month. From that day Henry's reception at the theatre was all that he could have desired, and more than any mere44 author had the right to expect. At the final rehearsals, in the absence of John Pilgrim, his word was law. It was whispered in the green-room that he earned ten thousand a year by writing things called novels. 'Well, dear old pal,' said one old actor to another old actor, 'it takes all sorts to make a world. But ten thousand! Johnny himself don't make more than that, though he spends more.'
The mischief45 was that Henry's digestion46, what[Pg 319] with the irregular hours and the irregular drinks, went all to pieces.
'You don't look nervous, Harry,' said Geraldine when he came into the drawing-room before dinner on the evening of the production.
'Nervous?' said Henry. 'Of course I'm not.'
'Then, why have you forgotten to brush your hair, dearest?' she asked.
He glanced in a mirror. Yes, he had certainly forgotten to brush his hair.
Geraldine drove to the theatre. She was to meet there Mrs. Knight and Aunt Annie, in whose breasts pride and curiosity had won a tardy48 victory over the habits of a lifetime; they had a stage-box. Henry remarked that it was a warm night and that he preferred to walk; he would see them afterwards.
No one could have been more surprised than Henry, when he arrived at Prince's Theatre, to discover that he was incapable49 of entering that edifice50. He honestly and physically51 tried to go in by the stage-door, but he could not, and, instead[Pg 320] of turning within, he kept a straight course along the footpath52. It was as though an invisible barrier had been raised to prevent his ingress.
'Never mind!' he said. 'I'll walk to the Circus and back again, and then I'll go in.'
He walked to the Circus and back again, and once more failed to get himself inside Prince's Theatre.
'This is the most curious thing that ever happened to me,' he thought, as he stood for the second time in Piccadilly Circus. 'Why the devil can't I go into that theatre? I'm not nervous. I'm not a bit nervous.' It was so curious that he felt an impulse to confide53 to someone how curious it was.
Then he went into the Criterion bar and sat down. The clock showed seventeen minutes to nine. His piece was advertised to start at eight-thirty precisely54. The Criterion Bar is never empty, but it has its moments of lassitude, and seventeen minutes to nine is one of them. After an interval55 a waiter slackly approached him.
'Brandy-and-soda!' Henry ordered, well knowing that brandy-and-soda never suited him.
He glanced away from the clock, repeated[Pg 321] 'Punch, brothers, punch with care,' twenty times, recited 'God save the Queen,' took six small sips56 at the brandy-and-soda, and then looked at the clock again, and it was only fourteen minutes to nine. He had guessed it might be fourteen minutes to ten.
He caught the eye of a barmaid, and she seemed to be saying to him sternly: 'If you think you can occupy this place all night on a ninepenny drink, you are mistaken. Either you ought to order another or hook it.' He braved it for several more ages, then paid, and went; and still it was only ten minutes to nine. All mundane phenomena57 were inexplicably58 contorted that night. As he was passing the end of the short street which contains the stage-door of Prince's Theatre, a man, standing59 at the door on the lookout60, hailed him loudly. He hesitated, and the man—it was the doorkeeper—flew forward and seized him and dragged him in.
'Drink this, Mr. Knight,' commanded the doorkeeper.
'I'm all right,' said Henry. 'What's up?'
'Yes, I know you're all right. Drink it.'
And he drank a whisky-and-soda.
[Pg 322]
'Come upstairs,' said the doorkeeper. 'You'll be wanted, Mr. Knight.'
As he approached the wings of the stage, under the traction61 of the breathless doorkeeper, he was conscious of the falling of the curtain, and of the noisiest noise beyond the curtain that he had ever heard.
'Here, Mr. Knight, drink this,' said someone in his ear. 'Keep steady. It's nothing.'
And he drank a glass of port.
His overcoat was jerked off by a mysterious agency.
The noise continued to be terrible: it rose and fell like the sea.
Then he was aware of Jane Map rushing towards him and of Jane Map kissing him rapturously on the mouth. 'Come on,' cried Jane Map, and pulled him by the hand, helter-skelter, until they came in front of a blaze of light and the noise crashed at his ears.
'I've been through this before somewhere,' he thought, while Jane Map wrung62 his hand. 'Was it in a previous existence? No. The Alhambra!' What made him remember the Alhambra was the figure of little Doxey sheepishly joining [Pg 323]himself and Jane. Doxey, with a disastrous63 lack of foresight64, had been in the opposite wing, and had had to run round the stage in order to come before the curtain. Doxey's share in the triumph was decidedly less than half....
'No,' Henry said later, with splendid calm, when Geraldine, Jane, Doxey, and himself were drinking champagne65 in Jane's Empire dressing-room, 'it wasn't nervousness. I don't quite know what it was.'
He gathered that the success had been indescribable.
Jane radiated bliss.
'I tell you what, old man,' said Doxey: 'we must adapt The Plague-Spot, eh?'
'We'll see about that,' said Henry.
Two days afterwards Henry arose from a bed of pain, and was able to consume a little tea and dry toast. Geraldine regaled his spiritual man with the press notices, which were tremendous. But more tremendous than the press notices was John Pilgrim's decision to put Love in Babylon after the main piece in the bill of Prince's Theatre. Love in Babylon was to begin at the honourable[Pg 324] hour of ten-forty in future, for the benefit of the stalls and the dress-circle.
'Have you thought about Mr. Doxey's suggestion?' Geraldine asked him.
'Yes,' said Henry; 'but I don't quite see the point of it.'
'Don't see the point of it, sweetheart?' she protested, stroking his dressing-gown. 'But it would be bound to be a frightful66 success, after this.'
'I know,' said Henry. 'But why drag in Doxey? I can write the next play myself.'
She kissed him.
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1
judicial
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| adj.司法的，法庭的，审判的，明断的，公正的 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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perusal
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| n.细读，熟读；目测 | |
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4
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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impair
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| v.损害，损伤；削弱，减少 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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10
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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12
celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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renown
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| n.声誉，名望 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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15
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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16
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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17
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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18
mundane
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| adj.平凡的；尘世的；宇宙的 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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imposingly
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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23
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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27
effusively
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| adv.变溢地，热情洋溢地 | |
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perpendicularly
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| adv. 垂直地, 笔直地, 纵向地 | |
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rehearsal
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| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
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30
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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32
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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33
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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rehearsals
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| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
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35
desolating
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| 毁坏( desolate的现在分词 )； 极大地破坏； 使沮丧； 使痛苦 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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conspiratorial
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| adj.阴谋的，阴谋者的 | |
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41
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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45
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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tardy
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| adj.缓慢的，迟缓的 | |
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49
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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50
edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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51
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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52
footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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53
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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54
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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55
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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56
sips
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| n.小口喝，一小口的量( sip的名词复数 )v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的第三人称单数 ) | |
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57
phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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58
inexplicably
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| adv.无法说明地，难以理解地，令人难以理解的是 | |
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59
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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60
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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61
traction
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| n.牵引；附着摩擦力 | |
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62
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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63
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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64
foresight
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| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
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65
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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66
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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