DRINKWATER (sarcastically). Ow! Henny ather little suvvice? Mike yrseolf at owm, y’ knaow, lidy.
LADY CICELY (considerately). Don’t go if you’d rather not, Mr. Drinkwater. Perhaps you’re too tired. (Turning to the archway) I’ll ask Captain Brassbound: he won’t mind.
DRINKWATER (terrified, running after her and getting between her and the arch). Naow, naow! Naow, lidy: doesn’t you goes disturbin the Kepn. Awll see to it.
LADY CICELY (gravely). I was sure you would, Mr. Drinkwater. You have such a kind face. (She turns back and goes out through the small door.)
DRINKWATER (looking after her). Garn!
SIR HOWARD (to Drinkwater). Will you ask one of your friends to show me to my room whilst you are getting the water?
DRINKWATER (insolently). Yr room! Ow: this ynt good enaf fr yr, ynt it? (Ferociously) Oo a you orderin abaht, ih?
SIR HOWARD (rising quietly, and taking refuge between Redbrook and Johnson, whom he addresses). Can you find me a more private room than this?
JOHNSON (shaking his head). I’ve no orders. You must wait til the capn comes, sir.
DRINKWATER (following Sir Howard). Yuss; an whawl you’re witin, yll tike your horders from me: see?
JOHNSON (with slow severity, to Drinkwater). Look here: do you see three genlmen talkin to one another here, civil and private, eh?
DRINKWATER (chapfallen). No offence, Miste Jornsn —
JOHNSON (ominously). Ay; but there is offence. Where’s your manners, you guttersnipe? (Turning to Sir Howard) That’s the curse o this kind o life, sir: you got to associate with all sorts. My father, sir, was Capn Johnson o Hull — owned his own schooner, sir. We’re mostly gentlemen here, sir, as you’ll find, except the poor ignorant foreigner and that there scum of the submerged tenth. (Contemptuously looking at Drinkwater) HE ain’t nobody’s son: he’s only a offspring o coster folk or such.
DRINKWATER (bursting into tears). Clawss feelin! thet’s wot it is: clawss feelin! Wot are yer, arter all, bat a bloomin gang o west cowst cazhls (casual ward paupers)? (Johnson is scandalized; and there is a general thrill of indignation.) Better ev naow fembly, an rawse aht of it, lawk me, than ev a specble one and disgrice it, lawk you.
JOHNSON. Brandyfaced Jack: I name you for conduct and language unbecoming to a gentleman. Those who agree will signify the same in the usual manner.
ALL (vehemently). Aye.
DRINKWATER (wildly). Naow.
JOHNSON. Felix Drinkwater: are you goin out, or are you goin to wait til you’re chucked out? You can cry in the passage. If you give any trouble, you’ll have something to cry for.
They make a threatenng movement towards Drinkwater.
DRINKWATER (whimpering). You lee me alown: awm gowin. There’s n’maw true demmecrettick feelin eah than there is in the owl bloomin M division of Noontn Corzwy coppers (Newington Causeway policemen).
As he slinks away in tears towards the arch, Brassbound enters. Drinkwater promptly shelters himself on the captain’s left hand, the others retreating to the opposite side as Brassbound advances to the middle of the room. Sir Howard retires behind them and seats himself on the divan, much fatigued.
BRASSBOUND (to Drinkwater). What are you snivelling at?
DRINKWATER. You awsk the wust cowst herristorcracy. They fawnds maw cornduck hanbecammin to a genlmn.
Brassbound is about to ask Johnson for an explanation, when Lady Cicely returns through the little door, and comes between Brassbound and Drinkwater.
LADY CICELY (to Drinkwater). Have you fetched the water?
DRINKWATER. Yuss: nah YOU begin orn me. (He weeps afresh.)
LADY CICELY (surprised). Oh! This won’t do, Mr. Drinkwater. If you cry, I can’t let you nurse your friend.
DRINKWATER (frantic). Thet’ll brike maw awt, wown’t it nah? (With a lamentable sob, he throws himself down on the divan, raging like an angry child.)
LADY CICELY (after contemplating him in astonishment for a moment). Captain Brassbound: are there any charwomen in the Atlas Mountains?
BRASSBOUND. There are people here who will work if you pay them, as there are elsewhere.
LADY CICELY. This castle is very romantic, Captain; but it hasn’t had a spring cleaning since the Prophet lived in it. There’s only one room I can put that wounded man into. It’s the only one that has a bed in it: the second room on the right out of that passage.
BRASSBOUND (haughtily). That is my room, madam.
LADY CICELY (relieved). Oh, that’s all right. It would have been so awkward if I had had to ask one of your men to turn out. You won’t mind, I know. (All the men stare at her. Even Drinkwater forgets his sorrows in his stupefaction.)
BRASSBOUND. Pray, madam, have you made any arrangements for my accommodation?
LADY CICELY (reassuringly). Yes: you can have my room instead wherever it may be: I’m sure you chose me a nice one. I must be near my patient; and I don’t mind roughing it. Now I must have Marzo moved very carefully. Where is that truly gentlemanly Mr. Johnson? — oh, there you are, Mr. Johnson. (She runs to Johnson, past Brassbound, who has to step back hastily out of her way with every expression frozen out of his face except one of extreme and indignant dumbfoundedness). Will you ask your strong friend to help you with Marzo: strong people are always so gentle.
JOHNSON. Let me introdooce Mr. Redbrook. Your ladyship may know his father, the very Rev. Dean Redbrook. (He goes to Marzo.)
REDBROOK. Happy to oblige you, Lady Cicely.
LADY CICELY (shaking hands). Howdyedo? Of course I knew your father — Dunham, wasn’t it? Were you ever called —
REDBROOK. The kid? Yes.
LADY CICELY. But why —
REDBROOK (anticipating the rest of the question). Cards and drink, Lady Sis. (He follows Johnson to the patient. Lady Cicely goes too.) Now, Count Marzo. (Marzo groans as Johnson and Redbrook raise him.)
LADY CICELY. Now they’re NOT hurting you, Marzo. They couldn’t be more gentle.
MARZO. Drink.
LADY CICELY. I’ll get you some water myself. Your friend Mr. Drinkwater was too overcome — take care of the corner — that’s it — the second door on the right. (She goes out with Marzo and his bearers through the little door.)
BRASSBOUND (still staring). Well, I AM damned — !
DRINKWATER (getting up). Weoll, blimey!
BRASSBOUND (turning irritably on him). What did you say?
DRINKWATER. Weoll, wot did yer sy yrseolf, kepn? Fust tawm aw yever see y’ afride of ennybody. (The others laugh.)
BRASSBOUND. Afraid!
DRINKWATER (maliciously). She’s took y’ bed from hander yr for a bloomin penny hawcemen. If y’ ynt afride, let’s eah yer speak ap to er wen she cams bawck agin.
BRASSBOUND (to Sir Howard). I wish you to understand, Sir Howard, that in this castle, it is I who give orders, and no one else. Will you be good enough to let Lady Cicely Waynflete know that.
SIR HOWARD (sitting up on the divan and pulling himself together). You will have ample opportunity for speaking to Lady Cicely yourself when she returns. (Drinkwater chuckles: and the rest grin.)
BRASSBOUND. My manners are rough, Sir Howard. I have no wish to frighten the lady.
SIR HOWARD. Captain Brassbound: if you can