Four Short Plays [12]
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?
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. We'll do that lighting again.
[FORESON walks straight of the Stage into the wings Right.
[A pause.]
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.]
Mr Foreson!
FORESON. [Re-appearing] Sir?
VANE. Tell Miller to come down.
FORESON. Electrics! Mr Blewitt Vane wants to speak to you. Come down!
VANE. Tell Herbert to sit in that chair.
[FORESON walks straight out into the Right wings.]
Mr Foreson!
FORESON. [Re-appearing] Sir?
VANE. Don't go off the stage. [FORESON mutters.]
[ELECTRICS appears from the wings, Stage Left. He is a dark, thin-faced man with rather spikey hair.]
ELECTRICS. Yes, Mr Vane?
VANE. Look!
ELECTRICS. That's what I'd got marked, Mr Vane.
VANE. Once for all, what I want is the orchard in full moonlight, and the room dark except for the reading lamp. Cut off your front battens.
[ELECTRICS withdraws Left. FORESON walks off the Stage into the Right wings.]
Mr Foreson!
FORES0N. [Re-appearing] Sir?
VANE. See this marked right. Now, come on with it! I want to get some beauty into this!
[While he is speaking, HERBERT, the call boy, appears from the wings Right, a mercurial youth of about sixteen with a wide mouth.]
FORESON. [Maliciously] Here you are, then, Mr Vane. Herbert, sit in that chair.
[HERBERT sits an the armchair, with an air of perfect peace.]
VANE. Now! [All the lights go out. In a wail] Great Scott!
[A throaty chuckle from FORESON in the darkness. The light dances up, flickers, shifts, grows steady, falling on the orchard outside. The reading lamp darts alight and a piercing little glare from it strikes into the auditorium away from HERBERT.
[In a terrible voice] Mr Foreson.
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. Look--at--that--shade!
[FORESON mutters, walks up to it and turns it round so that the light shines on HERBERT'S legs.]
On his face, on his face!
[FORESON turns the light accordingly.]
FORESON. Is that what you want, Mr Vane?
VANE. Yes. Now, mark that!
FORESON. [Up into wings Right] Electrics!
ELECTRICS. Hallo!
FORESON. Mark that!
VANE. My God!
[The blue suddenly becomes amber.]
[The blue returns. All is steady. HERBERT is seen diverting himself with an imaginary cigar.]
Mr Foreson.
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. Ask him if he's got that?
FORESON. Have you got that?
ELECTRICS. Yes.
VANE. Now pass to the change. Take your floats off altogether.
FORESON. [Calling up] Floats out. [They go out.]
VANE. Cut off that lamp. [The lamp goes out] Put a little amber in your back batten. Mark that! Now pass to the end. Mr Foreson!
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. Black out
FORESON. [Calling up] Black out!
[The lights go out.]
VANE. Give us your first lighting-lamp on. And then the two changes. Quick as you can. Put some pep into it. Mr Foreson!
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. Stand for me where Miss Hellgrove comes in. FORESON crosses to the window. No, no!--by the curtain.
VANE. Mr Foreson?
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. We'll do that lighting again.
[FORESON walks straight of the Stage into the wings Right.
[A pause.]
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.]
Mr Foreson!
FORESON. [Re-appearing] Sir?
VANE. Tell Miller to come down.
FORESON. Electrics! Mr Blewitt Vane wants to speak to you. Come down!
VANE. Tell Herbert to sit in that chair.
[FORESON walks straight out into the Right wings.]
Mr Foreson!
FORESON. [Re-appearing] Sir?
VANE. Don't go off the stage. [FORESON mutters.]
[ELECTRICS appears from the wings, Stage Left. He is a dark, thin-faced man with rather spikey hair.]
ELECTRICS. Yes, Mr Vane?
VANE. Look!
ELECTRICS. That's what I'd got marked, Mr Vane.
VANE. Once for all, what I want is the orchard in full moonlight, and the room dark except for the reading lamp. Cut off your front battens.
[ELECTRICS withdraws Left. FORESON walks off the Stage into the Right wings.]
Mr Foreson!
FORES0N. [Re-appearing] Sir?
VANE. See this marked right. Now, come on with it! I want to get some beauty into this!
[While he is speaking, HERBERT, the call boy, appears from the wings Right, a mercurial youth of about sixteen with a wide mouth.]
FORESON. [Maliciously] Here you are, then, Mr Vane. Herbert, sit in that chair.
[HERBERT sits an the armchair, with an air of perfect peace.]
VANE. Now! [All the lights go out. In a wail] Great Scott!
[A throaty chuckle from FORESON in the darkness. The light dances up, flickers, shifts, grows steady, falling on the orchard outside. The reading lamp darts alight and a piercing little glare from it strikes into the auditorium away from HERBERT.
[In a terrible voice] Mr Foreson.
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. Look--at--that--shade!
[FORESON mutters, walks up to it and turns it round so that the light shines on HERBERT'S legs.]
On his face, on his face!
[FORESON turns the light accordingly.]
FORESON. Is that what you want, Mr Vane?
VANE. Yes. Now, mark that!
FORESON. [Up into wings Right] Electrics!
ELECTRICS. Hallo!
FORESON. Mark that!
VANE. My God!
[The blue suddenly becomes amber.]
[The blue returns. All is steady. HERBERT is seen diverting himself with an imaginary cigar.]
Mr Foreson.
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. Ask him if he's got that?
FORESON. Have you got that?
ELECTRICS. Yes.
VANE. Now pass to the change. Take your floats off altogether.
FORESON. [Calling up] Floats out. [They go out.]
VANE. Cut off that lamp. [The lamp goes out] Put a little amber in your back batten. Mark that! Now pass to the end. Mr Foreson!
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. Black out
FORESON. [Calling up] Black out!
[The lights go out.]
VANE. Give us your first lighting-lamp on. And then the two changes. Quick as you can. Put some pep into it. Mr Foreson!
FORESON. Sir?
VANE. Stand for me where Miss Hellgrove comes in. FORESON crosses to the window. No, no!--by the curtain.