Speaker 1: The Vengeance of Caste from Mister Punch's Dramatic Sequels by
Speaker 1: Saint John Hankin. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox
Speaker 1: recordings are in the public domain. For more information or
Speaker 1: to volunteer, please visit libravox dot org. Cast Most people
Speaker 1: in their day have wept tears of relief at the
Speaker 1: ending of T. W. Robertson's comedy Caste, when the Honorable
Speaker 1: George Dolroy not dead, poor Chap falls into the arms
Speaker 1: of his wife Esther, while his father in law Eccles
Speaker 1: bestows a drunken benediction upon him before starting for Jersey,
Speaker 1: and his sister in law Polly and her adored plumber
Speaker 1: Garage embrace sympathetically in the background. In these circumstances, it
Speaker 1: seems hardly kind to add a further act in this
Speaker 1: harrowing drama, But the writer of sequels like Nemesis is inexorable.
Speaker 1: If the perusal of the following scene prevents any young
Speaker 1: subaltern from emulating Daltroy and marrying a ballet dancer with
Speaker 1: a drunken father, it will not have been written in
Speaker 1: vain dramatis persone Ester.
Speaker 2: Dalroy read by Amanda Friday.
Speaker 3: George the Andlroy read by Lambda.
Speaker 2: Made read by Charlotte Duckats.
Speaker 3: Eccles read by Todd.
Speaker 1: Narrated by Capricia Page. Scene the dining room of the
Speaker 1: Dolroys house in the Suburbs. Dinner is just over and
Speaker 1: George Dalroy, in a seedy coat and carpet slippers, is
Speaker 1: sitting by the fire smoking a pipe. On the other
Speaker 1: side of the fire sits Esther, his wife, darning a song.
Speaker 2: Tired George, Yes, had a bad day in the city.
Speaker 3: Beastly. I believe I am the unluckiest figure in the world.
Speaker 3: Every stock I touch goes down.
Speaker 2: Why don't you give up speculating if you're so unlucky,
Speaker 2: George hurt.
Speaker 3: I don't speculate, Dear, I invest.
Speaker 2: Why don't you give up investing? Then it makes a
Speaker 2: dreadful hole in our income.
Speaker 3: One must do something for one's living.
Speaker 2: Esther sighing, Ah, what a pity it is. You left
Speaker 2: the army.
Speaker 3: I had to the regiment wouldn't stand your father. He
Speaker 3: was always coming to the mess room when he was
Speaker 3: drunk and asking for me. So the colonel said, I
Speaker 3: would better send in my papers.
Speaker 1: Esther gently, not drunk, George.
Speaker 3: The colonel said so, and he was rather a judge.
Speaker 1: Esther, unable to improve upon her own phrase.
Speaker 2: Father is a very eccentric man, but a very good
Speaker 2: man when you know.
Speaker 1: Him, George grimly.
Speaker 3: If you mean by eccentric a man who is always
Speaker 3: drunk and won't die, he is most eccentric.
Speaker 2: Hush, dear, After all, he's my father.
Speaker 3: That's my objection to him.
Speaker 2: I'm afraid you must have lost a great deal of
Speaker 2: money to day.
Speaker 3: Pretty well, but I have noticed that retired military men
Speaker 3: who go into the city invariably do lose money.
Speaker 2: Why do they go into the city, then.
Speaker 1: George gloomily?
Speaker 3: Why?
Speaker 1: Indeed, there is a short pause. George stares moodily at
Speaker 1: the fire.
Speaker 2: I had a visit from your mother to day. How
Speaker 2: was she not very well? She has aged sadly in
Speaker 2: the last few years. Her hair is quite white. Now,
Speaker 2: George have to.
Speaker 3: Himself, poor mother, Poor mother.
Speaker 2: She was very kind, she asked, particularly after you.
Speaker 1: And she saw little George gently.
Speaker 2: I think she is getting more reconciled to our marriage, do.
Speaker 1: You really, Dear, looks at her curiously.
Speaker 2: Yes, and I think it's such a good thing. How
Speaker 2: strange it is that people should attach such importance to
Speaker 2: class distinctions.
Speaker 3: Forgive me, dear, but if you think it's strange that
Speaker 3: Marcus the Samore does not consider mister Eckles and the
Speaker 3: garage's wholly desirable connections, I am afraid I cannot agree
Speaker 3: with you.
Speaker 2: Of course, Papa is a very eccentric man.
Speaker 3: My dear esther Mister Eccles made his hundred and fifty
Speaker 3: sixth appearance in the police court last week. The fact
Speaker 3: was made the subject of jocular comment in the cheaper
Speaker 3: evening papers. The The sentence was five shillings or seven days.
Speaker 2: Poor Papa felt his position acutely.
Speaker 3: Not half so acutely as I did. I paid the
Speaker 3: five shillings if he had only consented to remaind in Jersey.
Speaker 2: But you know Jersey didn't suit him. He was never well.
Speaker 3: There, He was never sobber there. That was the only
Speaker 3: thing that was the matter with them. No, my love,
Speaker 3: let us look at facts in the face. You are,
Speaker 3: my dear little woman, but your father is detestable. And
Speaker 3: there is not the smallest ground for hope that my
Speaker 3: mother will ever be reconciled to our marriage, as long
Speaker 3: as she retains her reason.
Speaker 2: I suppose Father is rather a difficulty.
Speaker 3: Yes, he and the garages between them have made as
Speaker 3: impossible socially.
Speaker 2: What's the matter with the gurages?
Speaker 3: Nothing except that you always ask them to all our
Speaker 3: dinner parties, and as gentle people have a curious prejudice. Again,
Speaker 3: sitting down to dinner with a plumber and a glacier,
Speaker 3: it somewhat narrows of a circle of acquaintance.
Speaker 2: But Sam isn't a working plumber. Now he has a
Speaker 2: shop of his own, quite a large shop, and the
Speaker 2: house is just as good as ours. The furniture is better.
Speaker 2: Sam bought Polly a new carpet for the drawing room
Speaker 2: only last week. It cost fourteen pounds, and our drawing
Speaker 2: room carpet is dreadfully shabby.
Speaker 3: I am glad they are getting on so well.
Speaker 1: With a flicker of hope.
Speaker 3: Do you think there is any chance as they grow
Speaker 3: more prosperous of the air dropping.
Speaker 1: Us esther indignantly?
Speaker 2: How can you think of such a thing, George.
Speaker 1: Sighing, I was afraid not esther enthusiastically.
Speaker 2: Why Sam is as kind as can be, and so
Speaker 2: is Polly, And you know how fun they are of
Speaker 2: little George poor child.
Speaker 3: Yes, he has always played with their children ever since
Speaker 3: he could toddle. And what is their result? A cockney
Speaker 3: accent that is indescribable.
Speaker 2: What does it matter about his accent so long as
Speaker 2: he is a good boy and grows up to be
Speaker 2: a good.
Speaker 3: Man Ethically, my dear, not at all. But practically it
Speaker 3: matters a great deal. It causes me intense physical discomfort,
Speaker 3: and I think it is killing my mother.
Speaker 2: George.
Speaker 3: Moreover, when the time comes for him to go to
Speaker 3: a public school, he will probably be very unhappy in consequence.
Speaker 3: Why merely irrational prejudice. Public school boys dislike all deviations
Speaker 3: from the normal, and to them happily, a pronounce cockney
Speaker 3: accent represents the height of abnormality.
Speaker 2: As Sadly, in spite of our marriage, I'm afraid you're
Speaker 2: still a worshiper of caste. I thought you turned your
Speaker 2: back on all that when you married me.
Speaker 3: So I did, Dear, so I did. But I don't
Speaker 3: want to commit my son to the same hazard as experiment.
Speaker 2: Ah, George, you don't really love me, or you wouldn't
Speaker 2: talk like that.
Speaker 3: My dear, I love you to distraction. That's exactly the
Speaker 3: difficulty I am torn between my devotion to you and
Speaker 3: my abhorrence of your relations. When your father returned from
Speaker 3: Jersey and took a lodging close by us, nothing but
Speaker 3: the warmth of my affection prevented me from leaving you forever.
Speaker 3: He is still here, and so am I. What great
Speaker 3: a proof could you have of the strength of my attachment?
Speaker 2: Poor father, he could not bear to be away from us,
Speaker 2: and he has grown so fond of little George.
Speaker 1: George shudders.
Speaker 2: Father has a good heart.
Speaker 3: I wish he had a stronger head.
Speaker 1: This remark is prompted by the sound of mister Eccles
Speaker 1: entering the front door and having a tipsy altercation with
Speaker 1: the maid maid announcing mister Eccles Eccles joyously.
Speaker 2: Ay evening, eh me children, bless you, bless you, good evening. Father.
Speaker 2: Won't you agin speak to your old father in law.
Speaker 1: Georgy, George says nothing.
Speaker 2: Ah, pride, pride, cruel pride. You come before a fall.
Speaker 3: You do.
Speaker 1: We're just heavily against the table and subsides into a chair.
Speaker 2: Funny that, oh, Mortget, seemed as if that proverb was
Speaker 2: a coming true that time.
Speaker 3: George sternly, how often have I told you, mister Eccles,
Speaker 3: not to come to this house except when you're sober.
Speaker 1: Eccles, raising his voice in indignant protest.
Speaker 3: Shober, perfectly, shober, shobre is a judge. I am afraid
Speaker 3: I can't argue with you as to the precise stage
Speaker 3: of intoxication in which you find yourself. You had better
Speaker 3: go home at once.
Speaker 2: Do you hear that, Esther, Do you hear that? Meet
Speaker 2: you old? Yes, father, I think you had better go home.
Speaker 2: You're not very well tonight.
Speaker 1: Eccles, rising unsteadily from his chair. All right, Esther, I'm
Speaker 1: going good night, Georgie, George, with the greatest politeness.
Speaker 3: Good night, mister Eccles. If you could possibly manage to
Speaker 3: fall down and damage yourself seriously on the way home,
Speaker 3: I should be infinitely obliged.
Speaker 1: Eccles begins to weep.
Speaker 3: There's words to address to a loving him, for in law,
Speaker 3: there's words lurches out.
Speaker 2: I think, George, you had better see him home. It's
Speaker 2: not safe for him to be alone in that state.
Speaker 1: George savagely safe.
Speaker 3: I don't want him to be safe. Nothing would give
Speaker 3: me greater satisfaction than to hear he had broken his
Speaker 3: neck esther gently, but.
Speaker 2: He might meet a policeman.
Speaker 3: George, ha, that's another matter. Perhaps I had better see
Speaker 3: the beast into a cab.
Speaker 2: Esther, sighing, Ah, you never understood, poor father.
Speaker 1: A crash is heard from the hall as Ecoles lurches
Speaker 1: heavily and upsets the hat stand. George throws up his
Speaker 1: hands in despair at the wreck of the hall furniture,
Speaker 1: or perhaps at the obtuseness of his wife's last remark,
Speaker 1: and goes out to call a cab curtain. End of
Speaker 1: the Vengeance of Caste