SIR WEBLEY: The Secretary ought to be more careful. Waiter!
JERGINS: Yes, Sir Webley. [He comes.
SIR WEBLEY: Coffee, Jergins. Same as usual.
JERGINS: Yes, Sir Webley.
SIR WEBLEY: And, Jergins-there's a man called Mr. William Shakespeare putting up for the Club.
JERGINS: I'm sorry to hear that, Sir Webley.
SIR WEBLEY: Yes, Jergins. Well, there it is, you see; and I want you to go up and ask Mr. Trundleben if he'd come down.
JERGINS: Certainly, Sir Webley.
SIR WEBLEY: And then get my coffee.
JERGINS: Yes, Sir Webley.
[He goes slowly away.
NEEKS: He'll be able to tell us all about him.
SIR WEBLEY: At the same time he should be more careful.
NEEKS: I'm afraid-I'm afraid he's getting rather, rather old.
SIR WEBLEY: Oh, I don't know, he was seventy only the other day. I don't call that too old-nowadays. He can't be now, he can't be more than, let me see, seventy-eight. Where does this Mr. Shaker live?
NEEKS: Shakespeare. Somewhere down in Warwickshire. A village called Bradford, I think, is the address he gives in the Candidates' Book.
SIR WEBLEY: Warwickshire! I do seem to remember something about him now. If he's the same man I certainly do. William Shakespeare, you said.
NEEKS: Yes, that's the name.
SIR WEBLEY: Well, I certainly have heard about him now you mention it.
NEEKS: Really! And what does he do?
SIR WEBLEY: Do? Well, from what I heard he poaches.
NEEKS: Poaches!
SIR WEBLEY: Yes, a poacher. Trundleben deserves to get the sack for this. A poacher from the wilds of Warwickshire. I heard all about him. He got after the deer at Charlecote.
NEEKS: A poacher!
SIR WEBLEY: That's all he is, a poacher. A member of the Olympus! He'll be dropping in here one fine day with other people's rabbits in his pockets.
[Enter JERGINS.
JERGINS: Your coffee, Sir Webley.
SIR WEBLEY: My coffee. I should think so. (He sips it. ) One needs it.
JERGINS: Mr. Trundleben will be down at once, Sir Webley. I telephoned up to him.
SIR WEBLEY: Telephoned! Telephoned! The Club's getting more full of new-fangled devices every day. I remember the time when--Thank you, Jergins.
[JERGINS retires.
This is a pretty state of things, Neeks.
NEEKS: A pretty state of things indeed, Sir Webley.
SIR WEBLEY: Ah, here's Trundleben.
NEEKS: He'll tell us all about it, Sir Webley. I'm sure he'll--
SIR WEBLEY: Ah, Trundleben. Come and sit down here. Come and--
TRUNDLEBEN: Thank you, Sir Webley. I think I will. I don't walk quite as well as I used, and what with--
SIR WEBLEY: What's all this we hear about this Mr. Shakespeare, Trundleben?
TRUNDLEBEN: Oh, ah, well yes, yes indeed. Well, you see, Sir Webley, he was put up for the Club. Mr. Henry put him up.
SIR WEBLEY (disapprovingly): Oh, Mr. Henry.
NEEKS: Yes, yes, yes. Long hair and all that.
SIR WEBLEY: I'm afraid so.
NEEKS: Writes poetry, I believe.
SIR WEBLEY: I'm afraid so.
TRUNDLEBEN: Well then, what does Mr. Newton do but go and second him, and there you are, Sir Webley.
SIR WEBLEY: Yes, a pretty state of things. Has he ... Does he ... What is he?
TRUNDLEBEN: He seems to write, Sir Webley.
SIR WEBLEY: Oh, he does, does he? What does he write?
TRUNDLEBEN: Well, I wrote and asked him that, Sir Webley, and he said plays.
SIR WEBLEY: Plays? Plays? Plays? I'm sure I never heard ... What plays?
TRUNDLEBEN: I asked him that, Sir Webley, and he said ... he sent me a list (fumbling). Ah, here it is.
[He holds it high, far from his face, tilts his head back and looks down his nose through his glasses.
He says-let me see-"Hamelt," or "Hamlet," I don't know how he pronounces it. "Hamelt, Hamlet"; he spells it "H-a-m-l-e-t." If you pronounce it the way one pronounces handle, it would be "Hamelt," but if--
SIR WEBLEY: What's it all about?
TRUNDLEBEN: Well, I gathered the scene was in Denmark.
NEEKS: Denmark! H'm! another of those neutrals!
SIR WEBLEY: Well, I wouldn't so much mind where the scene of the play was put, if only it was a play one ever had heard of.
NEEKS: But those men who have much to do with neutrals are rather the men-don't you think, Sir Webley?-who ...
SIR WEBLEY: Who want watching. I believe you're right, Neeks. And that type of unsuccessful play-wright is just the kind of man I always rather ...
NEEKS: That's rather what I feel, Sir Webley.
SIR WEBLEY: It wouldn't be a bad plan if we told somebody about him.
NEEKS: I think I know just the man, Sir Webley. I'll just drop him a line.
SIR WEBLEY: Yes, and if he's all right there's no harm done, but I always suspect that kind of fellow. Well, what else, Trundleben? This is getting interesting.
TRUNDLEBEN: Well, Sir Webley, it's really very funny, but he sent me a list of the characters in this play of his, "Hamelt," and, and it's really rather delicious--
NEEKS: Yes?
SIR WEBLEY: Yes? What is it?
TRUNDLEBEN: He's got a ghost in his play. (He-he-he-he-he) A ghost! He really has.
SIR WEBLEY: What! Not on the stage?
TRUNDLEBEN: Yes, on the stage!
NEEKS: Well, well, well.
SIR WEBLEY: But that's absurd.
TRUNDLEBEN: I met Mr. Vass the other day-it was his four hundredth presentation of "The Nighty"-and I told him about it. He said that bringing a ghost on the stage was, of course-er-ludicrous.
SIR WEBLEY: What else does he say he's done?
TRUNDLEBEN: Er-er-there's an absurdly long list-er-"Macbeth."
SIR WEBLEY: "Macbeth." That's Irish.
NEEKS: Ah, yes. Abbey Theatre style of thing.
TRUNDLEBEN: I think I heard he offered it them. But of course--
SIR WEBLEY: No, quite so.
TRUNDLEBEN: I gathered it was all rather a-rather a sordid story.
SIR WEBLEY (solemnly): Ah!
[NEEKS[5] with equal solemnity wags his head.
TRUNDLEBEN (focussing his list again): Here's a very funny one. This is funnier than "Hamlet." "The Tempest." And the stage directions are "The sea, with a ship."
SIR WEBLEY (laughs): Oh, that's lovely! That's really too good. The sea with a ship! And what's it all about?
TRUNDLEBEN: Well, I rather gathered that it was about a magician, and he-he makes a storm.
SIR WEBLEY: He makes a storm. Splendid! On the stage, I suppose.
TRUNDLEBEN: Oh yes, on the stage.