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- Herausgeber: Booksell-Verlag
- Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
"Dandy Dick," a comedic play by Arthur Wing Pinero, deftly explores themes of social status, the rigidity of class distinctions, and the function of artifice in Victorian society. Through sharp dialogue and lively character interactions, the play revolves around the eccentricities of its titular character, the well-dressed and melodramatic Dandy Dick, whose obsession with maintaining a veneer of sophistication often leads to comically absurd situations. Pinero's adept use of humor, paired with a vibrant narrative style, underscores the contrasts between genuine emotion and societal expectations, placing the play firmly in the context of late Victorian theatre, where social satire flourished alongside the exploration of moral dilemmas. Arthur Wing Pinero (1855-1934), an influential figure in British theatre, transitioned from a career in law to the world of playwriting, ultimately becoming a prominent playwright of his time. His works often reflect his keen observations of contemporary society, influenced by his background in law and his experiences within the theatrical milieu. Pinero's ability to intertwine humor with critical social commentary was honed through years spent observing the intricacies of human behavior, which is wonderfully encapsulated in "Dandy Dick." "Dandy Dick" is highly recommended for readers and theatre enthusiasts seeking both entertainment and a rich commentary on societal norms. Pinero'Äôs exploitative wit not only makes for a delightful read but also invites reflection on the constructs of identity and class. This play exemplifies the nuances and complexities of human relationships, making it a timeless piece that resonates with audiences even today.
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Dandy Dick
Table of Contents
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
“Dandy Dick” was the third of the farces which Mr. Pinero wrote for the old Court Theatre—a series of plays which, besides giving playgoers a fresh source of laughter, and the English stage a new order of comic play, brought plentiful prosperity to the joint management of Mr. Arthur Cecil and the late Mr. John Clayton. But a kind of melancholy interest attaches to “Dandy Dick,” for this play was, as it were, the swan-song of the old theatre and of the Clayton and Cecil partnership; and it was the piece in which Mr. Clayton was acting when death overtook him, to the general grief.
The production of “Dandy Dick” may be considered as something of a tour de force in its way. “The Schoolmistress” was at the end of its successful run, and Mr. Pinero was under contract to supply its successor by a certain date, when Mr. Clayton one day went down to Brighton, where the dramatist was then at work, to hear him read the two completed acts of the new play. To Mr. Clayton’s consternation, however, Mr. Pinero announced that he was dissatisfied with his work, and proposed to begin an entirely new play, as he had a more promising idea. But time was pressing, and a successor to “The Schoolmistress” was an immediate necessity. However, Mr. Pinero’s idea of writing a play round a dean, who, while being a paragon of dignity and decorum, should be driven by an indiscreet act into a most undignified dilemma, appealed to Mr. Clayton, and hastening back to London with the sketches for the requisite scenes, he left Mr. Pinero to set to work at once upon the new scheme. And within a few weeks, indeed by the time the scenery was ready, the new play was completed, the rural constable of a village adjacent to Brighton having suggested the character of Noah Topping.
“Dandy Dick” was produced at the Court Theatre on January 27th, 1887, and, meeting with a most favorable initial reception, it settled down immediately into a complete success. The following is a copy of the first-night programme:—
ROYAL COURT THEATRE,
SLOANE SQUARE, S.W.
Lessees and Managers:Mr. John Clayton and Mr. Arthur Cecil.
Programme
THIS EVENING, THURSDAY, JANUARY 27,At 8.30 punctually,
DANDY DICK.
AN ORIGINAL FARCE, IN THREE ACTS, BY A. W. PINERO.
ACT I.
AT THE DEANERY, ST. MARVELL’S.(Morning.)
ACT II.
THE SAME PLACE.(Evening.)
ACT III.—The Next Day.
Scene 1:—“The Strong Box,” St. Marvell’s.Scene 2.—The Deanery again.
The curtain will be lowered for a few minutes between the two scenes.
New Scenery by Mr. T. W. Hall.
Preceded, at Eight o’clock, by“THE NETTLE.”An Original Comedietta by ERNEST WARREN.
“Dandy Dick” was performed 171 times between the first night and the 22d of July, when, the old theatre being demolished, Mr. Clayton took a temporary lease of Toole’s Theatre, and transferred the play thither, where it ran 75 nights more.
A company had already been sent out, under the auspices of the Court management, to perform “Dandy Dick” in the provinces; but, when the play was withdrawn from the London boards, Mr. Clayton set out himself with a company, and it was during this tour that he died at Liverpool.
In America Mr. Daly produced “Dandy Dick” with Miss Ada Rehan in Mrs. John Wood’s part, but no very great success was achieved; whereas in Australia its reception was so enthusiastic that it ran for quite an unusual time both in Melbourne and Sydney. In the character of the Dean, Mr. G. W. Anson achieved perhaps the greatest of his Australian successes, and Mr. Robert Brough made his mark as the policeman.
Malcolm C. Salamak.
December, 1892.
DANDY DICK.
THE FIRST ACT.
The morning-room in the Deanery of St. Marvells, with a large arched opening leading to the library on the right, and a deeply-recessed window opening out to the garden on the left. It is a bright spring morning, and an air of comfort and serenity pervades the place.
Salome, a tall, handsome, dark girl, of about three-and-twenty, is sitting with her elbows resting on her knees, staring wildly into vacancy. Sheba, a fair little girl of about seventeen, wearing short petticoats, shares her despondency, and lies prostrate upon the settee.
Salome.
Oh! oh my! oh my! oh my!
Sheba.
[Sitting upright.] Oh, my gracious goodness, goodness gracious me!
[They both walk about excitedly.
Salome.
There’s only one terrible word for it—it’s a fix!
Sheba.
It’s worse than that! It’s a scrape! How did you ever get led into it?
Salome.
How did we get led into it? Halves, Sheba, please.
Sheba.
It was Major Tarver’s proposal, and I believe, Salome, that it is to you Major Tarver is paying attention.
Salome.
The Fancy Dress Masked Ball at Durnstone is promoted by the Officers of the Hussars. I believe that the young gentleman you have impressed calls himself an officer, though he is merely a lieutenant.
Sheba.
[Indignantly.] Mr. Darbey is certainly an officer—a small officer. How dare you gird at me, Salome?
Salome.
Very well, then. When to-night we appear at the Durnstone Athenæum, unknown to dear Papa, on the arms of Major Tarver and Mr. Darbey, I consider that we shall be equally wicked. Oh, how can we be so wrong?
Sheba.
Well, we’re not wrong yet. We’re only going to be wrong; that’s a very different matter.
Salome.
That’s true. Besides, there’s this to remember—we’re inexperienced girls and have only dear Papa. But oh, now that the Ball is to-night, I repent, Sheba, I repent!
Sheba.
I sha’n’t do that till to-morrow. But oh, how I shall repent to-morrow!
Salome.
[Taking an envelope from her pocket, and almost crying.] You’d repent now if you had seen the account for the fancy dresses.
Sheba.
Has it come in?
Salome.
Yes, the Major enclosed it to me this morning. You know, Sheba, Major Tarver promised to get the dresses made in London, so I gave him our brown paper patterns to send to the costumier.
Sheba.
[Shocked.] Oh, Salome, do you think he quizzed them?
Salome.
No; I sealed them up and marked outside “To be opened only by a lady.”
Sheba.
That’s all right. I hate the plan of myself in brown paper.
Salome.
Well, of course Major Tarver begged to be allowed to pay for the dresses, and I said I couldn’t dream of permitting it, and then he said he should be most unhappy if he didn’t, and, just as I thought he was going to have his own way, [bursting into tears] he cheered up and said he’d yield to a lady. [Taking a large account from the envelope.] And oh! he’s yielded.
Sheba.
Read it! Don’t spare me!
Salome.
[Reading.] “Debtor to Lewis Isaacs, Costumier to the Queen, Bow Street. One gown—period French Revolution, 1798—Fifteen guineas!”
Sheba.
[Sinking on her knees, clutching the table.] Oh!
Salome.
“Trimmings, linings, buttons, frillings—Seven guineas!”
Sheba.
[Hysterically.] Yah!
Salome.
That’s mine!
Sheba.
[Putting her fingers into her ears.] Now for mine, oooh!
Salome.
[Reading.] “One skirt and bodice—flower girl—period uncertain—Ten guineas.”
Sheba.
Less than yours! What a shame!
Salome.
“Trimmings, linings, buttons, frillings—Five guineas! Extras, Two guineas. Total, Forty pounds, nineteen. Ladies’ own brown paper patterns mislaid. Terms, Cash!”
[They throw themselves into each other’s arms.
Salome.
Oh, Sheba!
Sheba.
Salome! Are there forty pounds in the wide world?
Salome.
My heart weighs twenty. What shall we do?
Sheba.
If we were only a few years older I should suggest that we wrote nice notes to Papa and committed suicide.
Salome.
Brought up as we have been, that’s out of the question!
Sheba.
Then let us be brave women and wear the dresses!
Salome.
Of course we’ll do that, but—the bill!
Sheba.
We must get dear Papa in a good humor and coax him to make us a present of money. He knows we haven’t been charitable in the town for ever so long.
Salome.
Poor dear Papa! He hasn’t paid our proper dressmaker’s bill yet, and I’m sure he’s pressed for money.
Sheba.
But we can’t help that when we’re pressed for money—poor dear Papa!
Salome.
Suppose poor Papa refuses to give us a present?
Sheba.
Then we must play the piano when he’s at work on his Concordance—poor dear Papa!
Salome.
However, don’t let us wrong poor Papa in advance. Let us try to think how nice we shall look.
Sheba.
Oh yes—sha’n’t I!
Salome.
Oh, I shall! And as for stealing out of the house with Major Tarver when poor dear Papa has gone to bed, why, Gerald Tarver would die for me!
Sheba.
So would Nugent Darbey for me; besides I’m not old enough to know better.
Salome.
You’re not so very much younger than I, Sheba!
Sheba.
Indeed, Salome! Then why do you keep me in short skirts?
Salome.
Why! you cruel girl! You know I can’t lengthen you till I’m married!
[Blore,the butler, a venerable-looking person, with rather a clerical suggestion about his dress, enters by the window.
Blore.
[Benignly.] The two soldier gentlemen have just rode hup, Miss Salome.
[The girls clutch each other’s hands.
Salome.
You mean Major Tarver?
Sheba.
And Mr. Darbey. They have called to inquire after poor Papa.
Salome.
Poor Papa!
Blore.
Shall I show them hin, Miss Sheba?
Sheba.
Yes, Blore, dear, and hang your h’s on the hat-stand.
[Blorelaughs sweetly at Sheba and shakes his fingers at her playfully.
Blore.
[Vindictively, behind their backs.] ’Ussies!
[He goes out.
Salome.
Am I all right, Sheba?
Sheba.
Yes. Am I?
Salome.
Yes. [Looking out at window.] Here they are! How well Gerald Tarver dismounts! Oh!
Sheba.
He left his liver in India, didn’t he?
Salome.
No—only part of it.
Sheba.
Well—part of it.
Salome.
And that he gave to his Queen, brave fellow!
Sheba.
[Seating herself in an artificial attitude.] Where shall we be—here?
Salome.
[Running to the piano.] All right; you be admiring my voice!
Sheba.
Oh, I dare say!
Salome.
Here they are, and we’re doing nothing!
Sheba.
Let’s run away and then come in unconsciously.
Salome.
Yes—unconsciously.
[They run off through the Library. Blore shows in Major Tarver and Mr. Darbey, who are both in regimentals. Major Tarver is a middle-aged, tall, angular officer, with a thin face, yellow complexion, and red eyes. He is alternately in a state of great excitement and depression. Mr. Darbey is a mere boy, but with a pompous, patronizing manner.
Darbey.
The Dean’s out of the way, eh!
Blore.
Yes, sir, he his.
Tarver.
Eh? How is the Dean? Never mind—perhaps Miss Jedd is at home?
Blore.
Yes, sir, she his.
Tarver.
It would be discourteous to run away without asking Miss Jedd after her father.
Darbey.
[Throwing himself on the settee.] Deuced bad form!
Blore.
The ladies were ’ere a minute ago.
