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_The Big Drum_


_THE PLAYS OF ARTHUR W. PINERO_

Paper cover, 1s. 6d.; cloth, 2s. 6d. each


_THE TIMES_
_THE PROFLIGATE_
_THE CABINET MINISTER_
_THE HOBBY-HORSE_[1]
_LADY BOUNTIFUL_
_THE MAGISTRATE_
_DANDY DICK_
_SWEET LAVENDER_
_THE SCHOOLMISTRESS_
_THE WEAKER SEX_
_THE AMAZONS_[1]
_THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY_[1]
_THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH_
_THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT_[1]
_THE PRINCESS AND THE BUTTERFLY_
_TRELAWNY OF THE "WELLS"_
_THE GAY LORD QUEX_[2]
_IRIS_
_LETTY_
_A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE_
_HIS HOUSE IN ORDER_[1]
_THE THUNDERBOLT_
_MID-CHANNEL_
_THE "MIND THE PAINT" GIRL_

THE PINERO BIRTHDAY BOOK

SELECTED AND ARRANGED BY MYRA HAMILTON
With a Portrait, cloth extra, price 2s. 6d.

_LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_

      [1] This Play can be had in library form, 4to, cloth, with a
      portrait, 5s.

      [2] A Limited Edition of this play on hand-made paper, with a
      new portrait, 10s, net.




_The Big Drum_



_A COMEDY_

_In Four Acts_



_By_

_ARTHUR PINERO_



_"The desire of fame betrays an ambitious
man into indecencies that lessen his
reputation; he is still afraid lest any of
his actions should be thrown away in
private."_

                               ADDISON



_LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_
_MCMXV_

_Copyright 1915, by Arthur Pinero_

_This play was Produced in London, at the
St. James's Theatre, on Wednesday,
September 1, 1915_




_PREFACE_


The Big Drum is published exactly as it was written, and as it was
originally performed. At its first representation, however, the
audience was reported to have been saddened by its "unhappy ending."
Pressure was forthwith put upon me to reconcile Philip and Ottoline at
the finish, and at the third performance of the play the curtain fell
upon the picture, violently and crudely brought about, of Ottoline in
Philip's arms.

I made the alteration against my principles and against my conscience,
and yet not altogether unwillingly. For we live in depressing times;
and perhaps in such times it is the first duty of a writer for the
stage to make concessions to his audiences and, above everything, to
try to afford them a complete, if brief, distraction from the gloom
which awaits them outside the theatre.

My excuse for having at the start provided an "unhappy" ending is that
I was blind enough not to regard the ultimate break between Philip and
Ottoline as really unhappy for either party. On the contrary, I looked
upon the separation of these two people as a fortunate occurrence for
both; and I conceived it as a piece of ironic comedy which might not
prove unentertaining that the falling away of Philip from his high
resolves was checked by the woman he had once despised and who had at
last grown to know and to despise herself.

But comedy of this order has a knack of cutting rather deeply, of
ceasing, in some minds, to be comedy at all; and it may be said that
this is what has happened in the present instance. Luckily it is
equally true that certain matters are less painful, because less
actual, in print than upon the stage. The "wicked publisher,"
therefore, even when bombs are dropping round him, can afford to be
more independent than the theatrical manager; and for this reason I
have not hesitated to ask my friend Mr. Heinemann to publish THE BIG
DRUM in its original form.

ARTHUR PINERO

LONDON,
_September_ 1915




_THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY_


PHILIP MACKWORTH
SIR RANDLE FILSON, KNT.
BERTRAM FILSON (_his son_)
SIR TIMOTHY BARRADELL, BART.
ROBERT ROOPE
COLLINGHAM GREEN
LEONARD WESTRIP (_Sir Randle's secretary_)
ALFRED DUNNING (_of Sillitoe and Dunning's Private Detective Agency_)
NOYES (_Mr. Roope's servant_)
UNDERWOOD (_servant at Sir Randle's_)
JOHN (_Mr. Mackworth's servant_)
A WAITER

OTTOLINE DE CHAUMIE, COMTESSE DE CHAUMIE, _nee_ FILSON
LADY FILSON
HON. MRS. GODFREY ANSLOW
MRS. WALTER QUEBEC
MISS TRACER (_Lady Filson's secretary_)

PERIOD--1913




ACT I.

ROBERT ROOPE'S FLAT IN SOUTH AUDLEY STREET. JUNE.


ACT II.

MORNING-ROOM AT SIR RANDLE FILSON'S, ENNISMORE GARDENS. THE NEXT DAY.


ACT III.

MACKWORTH'S CHAMBERS, GRAY'S INN. NOVEMBER.


ACT IV.

THE SAME PLACE. THE FOLLOWING MORNING.


_The curtain falls for a moment in the course of the First and Third
Acts._




THE BIG DRUM




THE FIRST ACT


_The scene is a room, elegantly decorated, in a flat in South Audley
Street. On the right, two windows give a view, through muslin curtains,
of the opposite houses. In the wall facing the spectator are two doors,
one on the right, the other on the left. The left-hand door opens into
the room from a dimly-lighted corridor, the door on the right from the
dining-room. Between the doors there is a handsome fireplace. No fire
is burning and the grate is banked with flowers. When the dining-room
door is opened, a sideboard and a side-table are seen in the further
room, upon which are dishes of fruit, an array of ice-plates and
finger-bowls, liqueurs in decanters, glasses, silver, etc._

_The pictures, the ornaments upon the mantelpiece, and the articles of
furniture are few but choice. A high-backed settee stands on the right
of the fireplace; near the settee is a fauteuil-stool; facing the
settee is a Charles II arm-chair. On the left of the room there is a
small table with a chair beside it; on the right, not far from the
nearer window, are a writing-table and writing-chair. Pieces of
bric-a-brac lie upon the tables, where there are also some graceful
statuettes in ivory and bronze. Another high-backed settee fills the
space between the windows, and in each window there is an arm-chair of
the same period as the one at the fireplace._

_The street is full of sunlight._

(_Note: Throughout, "right" and "left" are the spectators' right and
left, not the actor's._)


               [ROBERT ROOPE, _seated at the writing-table, is sealing
               a letter._ NOYES _enters at the door on the left,
               followed by_ PHILIP MACKWORTH.

                              NOYES.

[_Announcing_ PHILIP.] Mr. Mackworth.

                              ROOPE.

[_A simple-looking gentleman of fifty, scrupulously attired--jumping up
and shaking hands warmly with_ PHILIP _as the servant withdraws._] My
dear Phil!

                              PHILIP.

[_A negligently--almost shabbily--dressed man in his late thirties,
with a handsome but worn face._] My dear Robbie!

                              ROOPE.

A triumph, to have dragged you out! [_Looking at his watch._] Luncheon
isn't till a quarter-to-two. I asked you for half-past-one because I
want to have a quiet little jaw with you beforehand.

                              PHILIP.

Delightful.

                              ROOPE.

Er--I'd better tell you at once, old chap, whom you'll meet here
to-day.

                              PHILIP.

Aha! Your tone presages a most distinguished guest. [_Seating himself
in the chair by the small table._] Is she a _grande-duchesse_, or is he
a crowned head?

                              ROOPE.

[_Smiling rather uneasily._] Wait. I work up to my great effect by
degrees. We shall only be six. Collingham Green----

                              PHILIP.

[_In disgust._] Oh, lord!

                              ROOPE.

Now, Phil, don't be naughty.

                              PHILIP.

The fellow who does the Society gossip for the _Planet_!

                              ROOPE.

And does it remarkably neatly, in my opinion.

                              PHILIP.

Pouah! [_Leaning back in his chair, his legs outstretched, and
spouting._] "Mrs. Trevelyan Potter, wearing a gown of yellow charmeuse
exquisitely draped with chiffon, gave a dance for her niece Miss
Hermione Stubbs at the Ritz Hotel last night." That sort o' stuff!

                              ROOPE.

[_Pained._] _Somebody_ has to supply it.

                              PHILIP.

"Pretty Mrs. Claud Grymes came on from the opera in her pearls, and
Lady Beakly looked younger than her daughter in blue."

                              ROOPE.

[_Ruefully._] You don't grow a bit more reasonable, Phil; not a bit.

                              PHILIP.

I beg pardon. Go ahead.

                              ROOPE.

[_Sitting on the fauteuil-stool._] Mrs. Godfrey Anslow and Mrs. Wally
Quebec. Abuse _them_.

                              PHILIP.

Bless their innocent hearts! _They'll_ be glad to meet Mr. Green.

                              ROOPE.

I trust so.

                              PHILIP.

[_Scowling._] A couple of pushing, advertising women.

                              ROOPE.

Really----!

                              PHILIP.

Ha, ha! Sorry. That's five, with you and me.

                              ROOPE.

That's five, as you justly observe. [_Clearing his throat._] H'm! H'm!

                              PHILIP.

The sixth? I prepare myself for your great effect.

                              ROOPE.

[_With an effort._] Er--Madame de Chaumie is in London, Phil.

                              PHILIP.

[_Sitting upright._] Madame de Chaumie! [_Disturbed._] Is _she_ coming?

                              ROOPE.

Y-y-yes.

                              PHILIP.

[_Rising._] Confound you, Robbie----!

                              ROOPE.

[_Hastily._] She has got rid of her house in Paris and rejoined her
people. She's with them in Ennismore Gardens.

                              PHILIP.

Thank you, I'm aware of it. One reads of Ottoline's movements in every
rag one picks up. [_Walking over to the right._] She's the biggest
_chasseuse_ of the crowd.

                              ROOPE.

I assure you she appears very much altered.

                              PHILIP.

What, can the leopard change his spots!

                              ROOPE.

Her family may still bang the big drum occasionally, and give it an
extra whack on _her_ account; but Ottoline herself----

                              PHILIP.

Faugh! [_Returning to_ ROOPE.] Why the devil have you done this?

                              ROOPE.

[_Feebly._] I confess, in the hope of bringing about a reconciliation.

                              PHILIP.

You--you good-natured old meddler. [_Quickly._] Does she expect to find
me here?

                              ROOPE.

No.

                              PHILIP.

[_Making for the door on the left._] I'll bolt, then.

                              ROOPE.

[_Rising and seizing him._] You shall do nothing of the kind. [_Forcing
him down upon the fauteuil-stool._] You'll upset my luncheon-table!
[_Tidying himself._] You're most inconsiderate; you are positively. And
you've disarranged my necktie.

                              PHILIP.

[_In a low voice._] How is she looking, Robbie?

                              ROOPE.

Brilliant. [_Putting his necktie in order._] Is that straight?
Brilliant.

                              PHILIP.

[_