The Silver Shield.

by Sydney Grundy.

THE SILVER SHIELD.

ACT I.

SCENE.--_A hall; pa.s.sages, R. and L.; a double window of stained gla.s.s, on swivel hinges, opens upon a lawn, with view of grounds; large portrait on the wall; landscape, and mirror; a staircase, L. TOM POTTER discovered working at an easel placed near the open window; NED CHETWYND seated at a table, opening and destroying letters leisurely.

LUCY PRESTON watching him; MRS. DOZEY asleep in an armchair, with a book of sermons lying open in her lap; footstool; fireplace, R.; large armchair side of fireplace._

LUCY. You've a great many letters?

NED. A few friends inquiring after me.

LUCY. More creditors?

NED. A regular a.s.sortment. I have 'em of all sizes--big and little; of all styles--polite to peremptory; of all nations--Jew and Gentile.

(_opens another letter_) Another lawyer's letter! (_LUCY goes up to TOM_) "Unless the amount, together with our charges, five and sixpence, be at once remitted----" Just so--common form. (_opens another letter_)

LUCY. Getting on, Mr. Potter?

TOM. Famously.

LUCY. I can begin to make out what it's going to be.

TOM. Don't say that, please.

LUCY. Why not?

TOM. I shall be told I am a servile copyist without a soul.

LUCY. Soul? What is "soul"?

TOM. The gift of representing things as they don't exist.

LUCY. Surely that isn't a gift. Isn't it art to show things as they are?

TOM. Not in the least. That's realism.

LUCY. Then what's art?

TOM. That's art. (_points to portrait, L._)

LUCY. Sir Humphrey's portrait.

TOM. (_crosses to portrait, L._) I beg your pardon--whose?

LUCY. Sir Humphrey's. Can't you see the likeness?

TOM. Has anybody seen it?

LUCY. Of course! a score of people.

TOM. It'd take a score. (_crosses to easel_)

LUCY. (_turns to TOM_) It is by Sir Clarence Gibbs, the Royal Academician, and it cost five hundred guineas.

TOM. Ah! If I could only paint like that. (_looks at portrait_)

LUCY. (_looking at picture_) Perhaps you will in time.

TOM. Never. I may deteriorate, but I shall never be as bad as that.

(_looking at picture_) Now, look at this aggravating thing. After all my trouble you can positively tell what it's meant for. (_NED rises and joins them_)

LUCY. Yes, two knights, on horseback, fighting.

NED. What are you going to call it?

TOM. The Silver Shield.

LUCY. Silver Shield? (_crosses to back of easel; NED leans on back of chair_)

TOM. Haven't you heard the fable? Two knights, riding in opposite directions, pa.s.sed a shield, hung on a tree to mark a boundary, and meeting some time afterwards, one of them happened to make some remark about the Silver Shield they had both ridden past. "Silver," exclaimed the other, "it was gold." Then they disputed, and words came to blows.

They fought, and killed each other. When they were both dead, it occurred to somebody to examine the shield, when it turned out that it was gold on one side, and silver on the other.

NED. What jacka.s.ses those two knights must have been.

TOM. So remarked everybody.

LUCY. Well, they _were_ rather silly. (_crosses to MRS. DOZEY, R._)

TOM. No sillier than we are, who see a fool in the looking-gla.s.s, and don't recognise him.

MRS. D. (_waking with a start_) Bless me! I've been asleep.

LUCY. For two hours, Mrs. Dozey.

MRS. D. I beg everybody's pardon. The fact is, I thought I was in church, and Dionysius was preaching.

NED. That sent you off to sleep. (_sitting on edge of chair_)

MRS. D. Oh, no, that woke me up. I wouldn't miss one of his discourses for the world. This is a splendid one I'm reading now--the 22nd, in the 17th volume.

LUCY. You have got so far?

MRS. D. Yes, my dear; I've read sixteen volumes of the twenty. The set were given to me by my husband on our honeymoon. Imagine my delight.

I've been reading at them steadily for five and twenty years, and my only fear is that I shan't live to finish them.