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                              _PENELOPE_

                             _THE PLAYS OF
                       WILLIAM SOMERSET MAUGHAM_

        Uniformly bound cloth, 2s 6d; paper covers, 1s 6d each

                           _LADY FREDERICK_
                           _JACK STRAW_
                           _A MAN OF HONOUR_
                           _MRS. DOT_
                           _THE EXPLORER_


                         _NOVELS BY THE SAME AUTHOR_

                         Price 6s each

                           _THE EXPLORER_
                           _THE MAGICIAN_
                           _THE MERRY-GO-ROUND_
                           _MRS. CRADDOCK_

                         _LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_




                              _PENELOPE_

                              _A COMEDY_

                            _In Three Acts_

                          _BY W. S. MAUGHAM_

                      _LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_
                               _MCMXII_

                           _Copyright 1912_

This play, originally called _Man and Wife_, was produced at the Comedy
Theatre on Saturday, January 9, 1909, with the following cast:


                  DR. O’FARRELL         W. GRAHAM BROWNE
                  PROFESSOR GOLIGHTLY      ALFRED BISHOP
                  DAVENPORT BARLOW            ERIC LEWIS
                  MR. BEADSWORTH            HERBERT ROSS
                  MR. ANDERSON              J. H. BREWER
                  MRS. FERGUSSON           NORMA WHALLEY
                  MRS. GOLIGHTLY             KATE BISHOP
                  MRS. WATSON       MRS. CHARLES CALVERT
                  PEYTON                 E. ARTHUR JONES
                  PENELOPE                 MARIE TEMPEST




                        _CHARACTERS_


                          PENELOPE
                          DR. O’FARRELL
                          PROFESSOR GOLIGHTLY
                          MRS. GOLIGHTLY
                          MR. DAVENPORT BARLOW
                          MRS. FERGUSSON
                          MR. BEADSWORTH
                          MRS. WATSON
                          A PATIENT
                          PEYTON


SCENE: _Dr. O’Farrell’s house in John Street, Mayfair_

TIME: _The Present Day_

_The Performing Rights of this play are fully protected, and permission
to perform it, whether by Amateurs or Professionals, must be obtained in
advance from the author’s Sole Agent, R. Golding Bright, 20 Green
Street, Leicester Square, London, W.C., from whom all particulars can be
obtained._




                               PENELOPE




THE FIRST ACT


     SCENE: _A drawing-room in_ O’FARRELL’S _house in John Street. It is
     very prettily but not extravagantly furnished. The_ O’FARRELLS _are
     a young married couple of modest income_.

     _It is between six and seven in the evening._

     PEYTON, _a neat parlour-maid, opens the door and shows in_ MR.
     DAVENPORT BARLOW.

     BARLOW _is a short, self-important person of middle age. He is very
     bald, red in the face, and wears a small, neatly curled moustache;
     he is dressed in the height of fashion. His manner is fussy and
     pompous. He comes forward as though he expected to find some one in
     the room. Seeing that it is empty, he stops and looks at_ PEYTON.
     _He cannot make out why there is no one to receive him._

BARLOW.

[_In a tone of surprise._] Is Mrs. O’Farrell not here?

PEYTON.

No, sir.

BARLOW.

H’m.... Will you let her know I’ve come?

PEYTON.

Mrs. O’Farrell is not at home, sir.

BARLOW.

Not at home?... But....

PEYTON.

Mrs. O’Farrell said, would you kindly sit down and make yourself
comfortable? And I was to give you the _Morning Post_.

BARLOW.

[_Pompously._] I can’t imagine why Mrs. O’Farrell should think I haven’t
read the _Morning Post_ at six o’clock in the evening.

PEYTON.

[_Imperturbably._] And Mrs. O’Farrell said, will you have a whisky and
soda, sir?

BARLOW.

But when is Mrs. O’Farrell coming in?

PEYTON.

I don’t know at all, sir.

BARLOW.

But she telegraphed to me this afternoon, asking me to come and see her
at once.

PEYTON.

Yes, sir; I took the telegram to the post office myself.

BARLOW.

It seems very extraordinary that she should have gone out. The matter
was of considerable importance.

PEYTON.

[_Politely._] Yes, sir.

BARLOW.

Very well, I’ll sit down and wait. But I can’t stay long. I’m dining at
... no matter.

PEYTON.

Very good, sir.

     [PEYTON _goes out_. BARLOW _goes to a looking-glass, takes a little
     brush out of his pocket, and brushes his moustache_. PEYTON _comes
     in again with a small tray on which are a decanter, a syphon, and a
     glass_.

BARLOW.

Oh, thank you. Did you say you had the _Morning Post_?

PEYTON.

Yes, sir. [_She hands it to him.

BARLOW.

Ah, thank you.

     [PEYTON _goes out_. BARLOW _helps himself to a whisky and soda,
     turns to the fashionable intelligence in the paper, and begins to
     read it with a little smile of self-satisfaction_.

BARLOW.

[_Half to himself._] The Duchess of St. Erth returned to Wales
yesterday. The Marchioness of Mereston has arrived at 89 Grosvenor
Square. The Marchioness of Serlo and Lady Eleanor King leave for Paris
this morning.

     [PEYTON _comes in, followed by_ MRS. GOLIGHTLY. MRS. GOLIGHTLY _is
     an extremely stout, good-natured lady of middle age. She is very
     active, but short of breath. She gives one a continual impression
     of having just run up a steep hill. She is_ DAVENPORT BARLOW’S
     _sister_.

PEYTON.

Mrs. Golightly.

BARLOW.

Isabel!

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

Are you here, Davenport? Where’s Penelope?

BARLOW.

[_As if it were the most extraordinary thing in the world._] She’s out!

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

[_Astonished._] Out?

     [_She turns to_ PEYTON _with a look of inquiry_.

PEYTON.

Mrs. O’Farrell said, would you kindly sit down and make yourself
comfortable, ma’am? And I was to bring you the _Church Times_.

BARLOW.

But....

PEYTON.

[_Calmly._] And Mrs. O’Farrell said, will you have a strong cup of tea,
ma’am?

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

I’m surprised that Mrs. O’Farrell should have gone out, because she
expected me.

PEYTON.

[_Handing_ MRS. GOLIGHTLY _a paper_.] Yes, ma’am.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

[_Taking it._] What is this?

PEYTON.

The _Church Times_, ma’am.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

[_With a look of exasperation at_ BARLOW.] Oh, thank you.... I think I
will have a cup of tea, please.

PEYTON.

Very good, ma’am.

     [_Exit._

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

I wonder why on earth Penelope should insist on my reading the _Church
Times_.

BARLOW.

I’ve just had a telegram from her.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

So have I, asking me to come at once. [_With a ray of light._] Perhaps
we shall find some explanation in the _Church Times_.

BARLOW.

Nonsense. What can the _Church Times_ have to do with the Archduchess
Anastasia?

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

My dear Davenport, what are you talking about?

     [PEYTON _enters to announce_ PROFESSOR GOLIGHTLY _and immediately
     afterwards goes out_. GOLIGHTLY _is a tall, spare man with grey
     hair, well groomed and alert. He is neatly dressed, quite tidy, and
     might just as well be a lawyer or a doctor as a professor of
     mathematics. He is clean-shaven._

PEYTON.

Professor Golightly.

GOLIGHTLY.

Hulloa, Davenport! [_To his wife._] My dear, you’re the last person I
expected to find here. I thought there was a meeting of the Missionary
Society at the Albert Hall.

     [PEYTON _comes in with a tray on which are tea-things, a glass of
     barley-water, and a copy of the “Athenæum_.”

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

Oh, thank you.

PEYTON.

[_To_ GOLIGHTLY.] Mrs. O’Farrell said, will you have a glass of
barley-water, sir?

GOLIGHTLY.

Barley-water!

PEYTON.

And I was to bring you the _Athenæum_. We couldn’t get this week’s, sir,
but this is last week’s, and Mrs. O’Farrell hopes it will do as well.

GOLIGHTLY.

[_With a faint smile._] It’s very kind of you to have taken so much
trouble.

PEYTON.

Thank you, sir.

     [_Exit._

GOLIGHTLY.

What on earth does Penelope want me to do with last week’s _Athenæum_
and a glass of barley-water?

BARLOW.

Well, presumably she wants you to drink the one and to read the other.

GOLIGHTLY.

[_To his wife._] My dear, I think it’s very hard that you should have
brought up our only child on the idea that my favourite form of
refreshment is barley-water.

BARLOW.

It looks as if Penelope expected you, too.

GOLIGHTLY.

I’ve just had a wire from her.

BARLOW.

Have you? I wonder why on earth she wired to you.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

It’s so extraordinary that she shouldn’t be here. It makes me feel very
nervous.

GOLIGHTLY.

Well, frankly, I couldn’t make head or tail of it, so I jumped into a
motor cab and came round from the club at once.

     [PEYTON _comes in, followed by_ BEADSWORTH. _He is a middle-aged
     solicitor, with a benign manner._

PEYTON.

Mr. Beadsworth.

GOLIGHTLY.

Well, I’m hanged.

BARLOW.

My dear Charles, I wish you wouldn’t be slangy. It’s gone out in our
set.

BEADSWORTH.

[_Shaking hands with_ MRS. GOLIGHTLY.] I’ve just had a telegram from
Penelope asking me to come at once. [_Turning to_ PEYTON.] Will you let
Mrs. O’Farrell know I’m here?

GOLIGHTLY.

She’s out.

PEYTON.

Mrs. O’Farrell said, would you make yourself comfortable, sir, and we’ve
got the _Law Times_ if you’d like to read it, and will you have a glass
of port, sir?

     [BEADSWORTH _looks round at the others in bewilderment_.

GOLIGHTLY.

By all means have a glass of port, and I’ll swop it for my barley-water.

BEADSWORTH.

[_To_ PEYTON.] Thank you.

PEYTON.

[_Handing him the paper._] Very good, sir.

     [_Exit._

BEADSWORTH.

What does she want me to do with the _Law Times_?

GOLIGHTLY.

I asked the same question when Peyton handed me last week’s _Athenæum_,
and Davenport, with the perspicacity that distinguishes him, answered:
read it.

BEADSWORTH.

Can you tell me what Penelope wants? Her telegram suggested that she
wished to see me not as an old friend, but in my official capacity as
the family solicitor.

GOLIGHTLY.

I haven’t an idea. I thought her telegram most mysterious.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

I wish she’d come in. I’m beginning to be dreadfully uneasy.

BARLOW.

[_Rather pompously._] I think I can put your minds at rest. I am in a
position to explain the whole matter to you. The telegram she sent me
makes it perfectly clear. I daresay you know that the Archduchess
Anastasia is a patient of Dickie’s. And a very nice patient for him to
have. I’ve never met her, though I happen to know several members of her
family, and she’s a very cultivated, pleasant woman. I’ve always said to
Dickie that that is the sort of practice he ought to get. The middle
classes do a doctor no good.

GOLIGHTLY.

My dear Davenport, do go on with your story.

BARLOW.

Well, it appears that the Archduchess Anastasia has signified her desire
to know Penelope. Very charming and graceful action on her part, and
just like her. Of course she’s extremely grateful to Dickie for all he’s
done. He’s worked a miraculous cure, and I daresay she’s heard that
Penelope is my niece. It’s a maxim you can always go on: royalty knows
everything. And the long and the short of it is that she’s coming to
lunch here. Of course Penelope knows nothing about these matters, and in
a state of great excitement she’s sent for me. It’s the best thing she
could do. I can tell her everything. I’ve lived in that set all my life.
It’s nothing to be particularly proud about--mere accident of birth--I
happen to be a gentleman. A certain family. Well, there it is, you see.

GOLIGHTLY.

But do you mean to say that Penelope wired all that to you? It must have
cost her a perfect fortune.

BARLOW.

She put it a little more briefly, of course, but that was the gist of
it.

BEADSWORTH.

I can’t imagine why she should send for me because a royalty is coming
to luncheon with her. It was very inconvenient to get away. I had a
dozen people waiting to see me, and I was obliged to slip out by the
back door in order to avoid them.

GOLIGHTLY.

But what are the exact words of the wire she sent you, Davenport?

BARLOW.

You can see it if you like. [_Taking it from his pocket and reading._]
“Come at once. Archduchess Anastasia. Penelope.”

GOLIGHTLY.

But d’you mean to say that you made up all that story out of those three
words?

BARLOW.

Penelope knew I had a certain amount of intelligence. She didn’t want to
waste her money, so she just put what was essential, and left me to
gather the rest.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

But my telegram says nothing about the Archduchess Anastasia.

BARLOW.

What did Penelope say to you?

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

[_Taking out the telegram._] “Come at once! Grave scandal! Central
African Mission. Penelope.”

BARLOW.

But that’s absurd. You know how stupid the Post Office is. They must
have made a mistake. I know that the Pomeranian Royal Family is very
odd, but there _are_ limits, and I can’t imagine the Archduchess
Anastasia being mixed up in a scandal with a Central African missionary.

BEADSWORTH.

Well, my wire merely said: “Come at once; six and eightpence. Penelope.”

BARLOW.

Six and eightpence! Why six and eightpence?

BEADSWORTH.

I don’t know. That is why I lost no time in coming.

GOLIGHTLY.

[_With a twinkle._] My impression is that the Archduchess Anastasia,
instead of paying Dickie’s bill for miraculously curing her, has eloped
with a missionary, and Penelope, by aid of the law [_with a gesture
towards_ BEADSWORTH], wants to recover the money.

BARLOW.

It’s nonsense! You’re so unpractical, Charles.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

[_To her husband._] But you had a telegram too, dear.

GOLIGHTLY.

“Come at once. Decimal 7035. Penelope.”

BARLOW.

How very odd.

     [_The door is softly opened and_ PENELOPE _slips in; for a moment
     the others do not see her, and she stands smiling at them_.
     GOLIGHTLY _catches sight of her. All the others turn._]

GOLIGHTLY.

Penelope.

THE OTHERS.

Penelope.

PENELOPE.

[_Coming forward and kissing_ MRS. GOLIGHTLY.] Good evening, mamma!

BARLOW.

[_Eagerly._] Well?

PENELOPE.

Well, papa. [_She puts her face up for him to kiss._]

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

[_Anxiously._] Now, Penelope.

PENELOPE.

Oh, Mr. Beadsworth, how nice of you to come. [_She shakes hands with
him._] Kiss me, Uncle Davenport. [_She calmly puts up her face. With
some irritation he kisses her._]

PENELOPE.

Thank you.... Was your whisky and soda quite right? [_Looking round._]
And the port? Father, you haven’t touched the barley-water. You
ungrateful old thing!

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

[_Exasperated._] My dear, for goodness’ sake explain.

BARLOW.

Where have you been all this time?

PENELOPE.

I--I’ve been sitting in the consulting-room. [_With a roguish smile._] I
watched you all come in.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

[_Rather injured._] Peyton said you were out.

BARLOW.

Really, Penelope, I think your behaviour is outrageous.

PENELOPE.

You see, I thought if I saw you one after the other as you came in, I
should have to make four scenes instead of one. It would have been very
exhausting and not nearly so effective.

GOLIGHTLY.

Are you going to make a scene?

PENELOPE.

[_With the greatest satisfaction._] I’m going to make a dreadful scene
in a minute.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

Now, my dear, before you go any further, for goodness’ sake tell us what
you meant by your telegrams.

PENELOPE.

Well, you see, I wanted you all to come immediately, and I thought the
best thing was to trail your ruling passions under your noses.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

Do you understand what she means, Charles?

PENELOPE.

My dear mother, it’s the simplest thing in the world. You spend your
life in converting the heathen--from a distance--and I knew if I
mentioned the Central African Mission you’d fly here on the wings of the
wind.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

In point of fact I came in an omnibus. But do you mean to tell me that
there has been no scandal in connection with the Central African
Mission?

PENELOPE.

[_Smiling._] I’m dreadfully sorry to disappoint you, mother.

GOLIGHTLY.

And what in heaven’s name made you wire decimal 7035 to me?

PENELOPE.

Oh, that’s our telephone number, and I just put decimal instead of
Gerrard.

GOLIGHTLY.

I thought the figures were strangely familiar.

PENELOPE.

And there you are, you see.

BARLOW.

[_Chuckling._] I think it’s a capital idea. And she just flung the words
six and eightpence at you, Beadsworth, and knew she’d fetch the lawyer.

PENELOPE.

[_To_ BEADSWORTH.] You’re not cross with me, are you?

     [_He shakes his head, smiling._

BARLOW.

And now, my dear, that you’ve disposed of them, tell me all about the
Archduchess Anastasia.

PENELOPE.

[_Looking at him blankly._] The Archduchess Anastasia? But I invented
her.

BARLOW.

What d’you mean, you invented her? I know her well, I’ve known her for
years. I know her whole family.

PENELOPE.

[_Rather embarrassed, but trying not to laugh._] Well, you see--I wanted
you to come, too. And....

BARLOW.

I don’t understand what you mean at all, Penelope. You mention one of my
most intimate friends, and then you tell me you invented her.

PENELOPE.

I’m awfully sorry. I really didn’t know there was such a person, and I
thought I’d made her up out of my own head.... [_With a chuckle._] I
think it was rather clever of me to hit upon some one you know so well.

BARLOW.

I don’t know why you should think the mere mention of the Archduchess’s
name would make me come here.

PENELOPE.

Well, you see, I know that you go out a great deal, and you know such
crowds of people. I felt quite sure that if there were an Archduchess
Anastasia you’d know her, and [_with a wave of the hand_] well, there it
is you see.

     [BARLOW _fumes silently, but does not answer_.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

Now, Penelope, tell us what you really do want.

PENELOPE.

[_In matter-of-fact tones._] I want to divorce Dickie.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

What!

GOLIGHTLY.

My dear child.

BARLOW.

Good gracious!

     [_These three speeches are said simultaneously._

PENELOPE.

[_Ruefully._] I intended to make such a scene, and now you’ve made me
blurt it all out in three words.

MRS. GOLIGHTLY.

But I don’t understand.

PENELOPE.

I’ll say it again, shall I? I want to divorce Dickie.

BEADSWORTH.

You don’t really mean it, do you?

PENELOPE.

[_Indignantly._] Of course I mean it. I’m never going to speak to him
again. That’s to say, I shall have a scene with him first. I’m quite
determined to have a scene with somebody.

GOLIGHTLY.

And where is Dickie now?

PENELOPE.

He’s on his way home with the usual story. [_With a sudden break in her
voice._] Oh