Part 12 (1/2)

[_He does nothing._

_She._ Well, you may as well go on. It will be something, anyhow.

(_Yawns._) Nothing ever seems to happen in this play. I don't know why. It isn't my fault. Oh, go on.

_He._ All right. Don't suppose it amuses me, though. Darling, I love you--will you marry me?

_She_ (_very wearily_). Oh, I suppose so.

_He._ Thanks very much. (_Kisses her._) There!

[_Returns proudly to his seat, and does nothing._

_She_ (_with sudden excitement_). Supposing I had said ”No,” would you have shot yourself?--would you have gone to the front?--would your life have been a blank hereafter? Would anything interesting have happened?

_He_ (_with a great determination in his eyes_). Had you spurned my love----

_She_ (_excitedly_). Yes, yes?

_He_ (_with emotion_).--I should have--I should have--done nothing.

[_Does it._

_She._ Oh!

_He._ Yes. As for shooting or drowning myself if any little thing of that sort had happened it would have been _off_ the stage. I hope I know my place.

[_She does nothing._

_He_ (_politely_). I don't know if you're keen about stopping here?

If not, we might----

_She._ We must wait till somebody else comes on.

_He._ True. (_Reflects deeply._) Er--do you mote much?

[_She sleeps. The audience follows suit. Curtain eventually._

[Ill.u.s.tration: HOW HE OUGHT _NOT_ TO LOOK

_Excited Prompter_ (_to the Ghost of Hamlet's father, who is working himself up to the most funereal aspect he can a.s.sume_).

”Now then, Walker, _LOOK ALIVE_!”]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PREHISTORIC SHAKSPEARE.--”MACBETH”

”Infirm of purpose!