Lady Frederick - William Somerset Maugham - E-Book

Lady Frederick E-Book

William Somerset Maugham

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Beschreibung

"Lady Frederick: A Comedy in Three Acts" by William Somerset Maugham centers on the charismatic Lady Frederick, a charming widow navigating the complexities of love and society. Set in the elegant salons of early 20th-century London, the play follows Lady Frederick as she deftly handles suitors, gossip, and financial woes with wit and poise. Maugham's sharp dialogue and keen observations of human nature create a delightful, humorous exploration of romance, social maneuvering, and resilience.

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William Somerset Maugham

Lady Frederick:

A Comedy in Three Acts

New Edition

New Edition

Published by Sovereign Classic

This Edition

First published in 2021

Copyright © 2021 Sovereign Classic

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9781787362727

Contents

CHARACTERS

THE FIRST ACT

THE SECOND ACT

THIRD ACT

CHARACTERS

Lady Frederick Berolles

Sir Gerald O’Mara

Mr. Paradine Fouldes

Marchioness of Mereston

Marquess of Mereston

Admiral Carlisle

Rose

Lady Frederick’s Dressmaker

Lady Frederick’s Footman

Lady Frederick’s Maid

Thompson

A Waiter at the Hotel Splendide

Time: The Present Day

Acts I and II—Drawing-room at the Hotel Splendide, Monte Carlo.

Act III—Lady Frederick’s Dressing-Room.

THE FIRST ACT

Scene: Drawing-room of the Hotel Splendide at Monte Carlo. A large, handsomely furnished room, with doors right and left, and French windows at the back leading to a terrace. Through these is seen the starry southern night. On one side is a piano, on the other a table with papers neatly laid out on it. There is a lighted stove.

Lady Mereston, in evening dress, rather magnificently attired, is reading the papers. She is a handsome woman of forty. She puts down the paper impatiently and rings the bell. A servant answers. He has a French accent.

Lady Mereston.

Did Mr. Paradine Fouldes come this evening?

Servant.

Yes, miladi.

Lady Mereston.

Is he in the hotel now?

Servant.

Yes, miladi.

Lady Mereston.

Will you send some one up to his room to say I’m waiting to see him?

Servant.

Pardon, miladi, but the gentleman say ‘e was on no account to be disturbed.

Lady Mereston.

Nonsense. Mr. Fouldes is my brother. You must go to him immediately.

Servant.

Mr. Fouldes his valet is in the ‘all. Will your ladyship speak with him?

Lady Mereston.

Mr. Fouldes is more difficult to see than a cabinet minister. Send his servant to me.

Servant.

Very good, miladi.

[Exit Servant, and presently Thompson, Mr. Fouldes’ man, comes in.

Thompson.

Your ladyship wished to see me.

Lady Mereston.

Good evening, Thompson. I hope you had a comfortable journey.

Thompson.

Yes, my lady. Mr. Fouldes always has a comfortable journey.

Lady Mereston.

Was the sea calm when you crossed?

Thompson.

Yes, my lady. Mr. Fouldes would look upon it as a great liberty if the sea was not calm.

Lady Mereston.

Will you tell Mr. Fouldes that I should like to see him at once?

Thompson.

[Looking at his watch.] Excuse me, my lady, but Mr. Fouldes said no one was to disturb him till ten o’clock. It’s more than my place is worth to go to him at five minutes to.

Lady Mereston.

But what on earth’s he doing?

Thompson.

I don’t know at all, my lady.

Lady Mereston.

How long have you been with Mr. Fouldes?

Thompson.

Twenty-five years, my lady.

Lady Mereston.

I should have thought you knew how he spent every minute of his day.

[Paradine comes in. He is a very well-dressed

man of forty-odd. Self-possessed, worldly,

urbane. He is never at a loss or put out

of countenance. He overhears Lady

Mereston’s last words.

Fouldes.

When I engaged Thompson I told him the first thing he must learn was the very difficult feat of keeping his eyes open and shut at one and the same time.

Lady Mereston.

My dear Paradine, I’ve been waiting to see you for the last two hours. How tiresome you are.

Fouldes.

You may give me a kiss, Maud, but don’t be rough.

Lady Mereston.

[Kissing his cheek.] You ridiculous creature. You really might have come to see me at once.

Fouldes.

My dear, you cannot grudge me a little repose after a long and tedious journey. I had to repair the ravages to my person caused by twenty-seven hours in the train.

Lady Mereston.

Don’t be so absurd. I’m sure your person is never ravished.

Fouldes.

Ravaged, my dear, ravaged. I should look upon it as an affectation at my age if I were not a little upset by the journey from London to Monte Carlo.

Lady Mereston.

I’ll be bound you ate a very hearty dinner.

Fouldes.

Thompson, did I eat any dinner at all?

Thompson.

[Stolidly.] Soup, sir.

Fouldes.

I remember looking at it.

Thompson.

Fish, sir.

Fouldes.

I trifled with a fried sole.

Thompson.

Bouchées à la Reine, sir.

Fouldes.

They have left absolutely no impression upon me.

Thompson.

Tournedos à la Splendide.

Fouldes.

They were distinctly tough, Thompson. You must lodge a complaint in the proper quarter.

Thompson.

Roast pheasant, sir.

Fouldes.

Yes, yes, now you mention it, I do remember the pheasant.

Thompson.

Chocolate ice, sir.

Fouldes.

It was too cold, Thompson. It was distinctly too cold.

Lady Mereston.

My dear Paradine, I think you dined uncommonly well.

Fouldes.

I have reached an age when love, ambition and wealth pale into insignificance beside a really well-grilled steak. That’ll do, Thompson.

Thompson.

Very well, sir.

[He goes out.

Lady Mereston.

It’s too bad of you, Paradine, to devour a substantial meal when I’m eating out my very heart with anxiety.

Fouldes.

It seems to agree with you very well. I’ve not seen you look better for years.

Lady Mereston.

For heaven’s sake be serious and listen to me.

Fouldes.

I started immediately I got your telegram. Pray tell me what I can do for you?

Lady Mereston.

My dear Paradine, Charlie’s head over ears in love.

Fouldes.

It’s not altogether an unexpected condition for a young man of twenty-two. If the lady’s respectable, marry him and resign yourself to being a dowager. If she’s not, give her five hundred pounds and pack her off to Paris or London or wherever else she habitually practises her arts and graces.

Lady Mereston.

I wish I could. But who d’you think it is?

Fouldes.

My dear, there’s nothing I detest more than riddles. I can imagine quite a number of fair ladies who would look without disdain upon a young marquess with fifty thousand a year.

Lady Mereston.

Lady Frederick Berolles.

Fouldes.

By Jupiter!

Lady Mereston.

She’s fifteen years older than he is.

Fouldes.

Then she’s not old enough to be his mother, which is a distinct advantage.

Lady Mereston.

She dyes her hair.

Fouldes.

She dyes it uncommonly well.

Lady Mereston.

She paints.

Fouldes.

Much better than a Royal Academician.

Lady Mereston.

And poor Charlie’s simply infatuated. He rides with her all the morning, motors with her all the afternoon, and gambles with her half the night. I never see him.

Fouldes.

But why should you think Lady Frederick cares two straws for him?

Lady Mereston.

Don’t be ridiculous, Paradine. Every one knows she hasn’t a penny, and she’s crippled with debts.

Fouldes.

One has to keep up appearances in this world. Life nowadays for the woman of fashion is a dilemma of which one horn is the Bankruptcy Court and the other—dear Sir Francis Jeune.

Lady Mereston.

I wish I knew how she manages to dress so beautifully. It’s one of the injustices of fate that clothes only hang on a woman really well when she’s lost every shred of reputation.

Fouldes.

My dear, you must console yourself with the thought that she’ll probably frizzle for it hereafter.

Lady Mereston.

I hope I’m not wicked, Paradine, but to wear draperies and wings in the next world offers me no compensation for looking dowdy in a Paquin gown in this.

Fouldes.

I surmised she was on the verge of bankruptcy when I heard she’d bought a new motor. And you seriously think Charlie wants to marry her?

Lady Mereston.

I’m sure of it.

Fouldes.

And what d’you want me to do?

Lady Mereston.

Good heavens, I want you to prevent it. After all he has a magnificent position; he’s got every chance of making a career for himself. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t be Prime Minister—it’s not fair to the boy to let him marry a woman like that.

Fouldes.

Of course you know Lady Frederick?

Lady Mereston.

My dear Paradine, we’re the greatest friends. You don’t suppose I’m going to give her the advantage of quarrelling with me. I think I shall ask her to luncheon to meet you.

Fouldes.

Women have such an advantage over men in affairs of this sort. They’re troubled by no scruples, and, like George Washington, never hesitate to lie.

Lady Mereston.

I look upon her as an abandoned creature, and I tell you frankly I shall stop at nothing to save my son from her clutches.

Fouldes.

Only a thoroughly good woman could so calmly announce her intention of using the crookedest ways to gain her ends.

Lady Mereston.

[Looking at him.] There must be some incident in her career which she wouldn’t like raked up. If we could only get hold of that....

Fouldes.

[Blandly.] How d’you imagine I can help you?

Lady Mereston.

A reformed burglar is always the best detective.

Fouldes.

My dear, I wish you could be frank without being sententious.

Lady Mereston.

You’ve run through two fortunes, and if we all got our deserts you would be starving now instead of being richer than ever.

Fouldes.

My second cousins have a knack of dying at the psychological moment.

Lady Mereston.