Guy Toone ...................The Professor Vanessa Hellgrove ...........The Wife George Fleetway .............Orpheus Maude Hopkins ...............The Faun
Scene: The Stage of a Theatre.
Action continuous, though the curtain is momentarily lowered according to that action.
The Scene is the stage of the theatre set for the dress rehearsal of the little play: “Orpheus with his Lute.” The curtain is up and the audience, though present, is not supposed to be. The set scene represents the end section of a room, with wide French windows, Back Centre, fully opened on to an apple orchard in bloom. The Back Wall with these French windows, is set only about ten feet from the footlights, and the rest of the stage is orchard. What is visible of the room would indicate the study of a writing man of culture. ( Note.—If found advantageous for scenic purposes, this section of room can be changed to a broad verandah or porch with pillars supporting its roof.) In the wall, Stage Left, is a curtained opening, across which the curtain is half drawn. Stage Right of the French windows is a large armchair turned rather towards the window, with a book rest attached, on which is a volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica, while on a stool alongside are writing materials such as a man requires when he writes with a pad on his knees. On a little table close by is a reading-lamp with a dark green shade. A crude light from the floats makes the stage stare; the only person on it is Mr Foreson, the stage manager, who is standing in the centre looking upwards as if waiting for someone to speak. He is a short, broad man, rather blank, and fatal. From the back of the auditorium, or from an empty box, whichever is most convenient, the producer, Mr Blewitt Vane, a man of about thirty four, with his hair brushed back, speaks.
Vane. Mr Foreson?
Vane. We’ll do that lighting again.
[Foreson walks straight of the Stage into the wings Right.]
Mr Foreson! [Crescendo] Mr Foreson.
[Foreson walks on again from Right and shades his eyes.]
Vane. For goodness sake, stand by! We’ll do that lighting again. Check your floats.
Foreson. [Speaking up into the prompt wings] Electrics!
Voice of electrics. Hallo!
Foreson. Give it us again. Check your floats.
[The floats go down,
and there is a sudden blinding glare of
blue lights, in which Foreson looks particularly ghastly.]
Vane. Great Scott! What the blazes! Mr Foreson!
[Foreson walks straight out into the wings Left. Crescendo.]