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    The Silver Shield An Original Comedy in Three Acts
    The Silver Shield An Original Comedy in Three Acts
    The Silver Shield An Original Comedy in Three Acts
    Ebook140 pages1 hour

    The Silver Shield An Original Comedy in Three Acts

    By Sydney Grundy

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 26, 2013
    The Silver Shield An Original Comedy in Three Acts
    Author

    Sydney Grundy

    Sydney Grundy (1848–1914) and Arthur Sullivan (1842–1900) were successful collaborators during the late nineteenth century. Grundy attended Owens College where he studied law before he embarked on his theatrical career. Elsewhere, Sullivan was raised in a musical family where he learned to play multiple instruments at an early age. He would go on to produce H.M.S. Pinafore (1878) and The Pirates of Penzance (1879). Meanwhile, Grundy worked on A Little Change (1872), A Pair of Spectacles (1889) and A Village Priest (1890).

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      Book preview

      The Silver Shield An Original Comedy in Three Acts - Sydney Grundy

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Silver Shield, by Sydney Grundy

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

      Title: The Silver Shield

             An Original Comedy in Three Acts

      Author: Sydney Grundy

      Release Date: October 12, 2012 [EBook #41033]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILVER SHIELD ***

      Produced by Paul Haxo from page images generously made

      available by Google and the Harvard University Library.

      THE SILVER SHIELD

      Act One

      Act Two

      Act Three

      Transcriber’s Note

      THE SILVER SHIELD.

      AN ORIGINAL COMEDY

      IN THREE ACTS.

      BY

      SYDNEY GRUNDY.

      Copyright, 1898, by Thomas Henry French.

      THE SILVER SHIELD.

      ACT I.

      Scene.—A hall; passages, R. and L.; a double window of stained glass, 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 assortment. 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, passed 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 jackasses 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-glass, 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.

      Ned. Take warning, Lucy, and begin them young.

      Mrs. D. Shall I lend you the first volume?

      Lucy. Thanks; I can get it from the library.

      Mrs. D. I’m sure you’d like it, Mr. Potter.

      Tom. Unfortunately, I am going home to-day, and shouldn’t have time to do it justice. (meanwhile Dr. Dozey has entered absently, his eyes cast down, his hands behind his back)

      Dr. (raising his eyes) Going home?

      Mrs. D. Ah, here’s the doctor! (dozes off again)

      Dr. Home! sweet home! The very phrase is fraught with poetry. One seems to stand before the glowing fire, to hear the purring cat, the hissing urn, whilst from without a quaint but welcome cry heralds the advent of the evening milk on its accustomed round. If you are wishful to pursue the subject——

      Lucy. (crosses in front to staircase) Excuse me, I must look after Sir Humphrey. (Exit, L.)

      Dr. (turning to Ned) I would refer you to——

      Ned. Thank you very much, but I’ve some letters to answer. (Exit, R.)

      Dr. (turning to Tom) To the tenth discourse——

      Tom. The light’s so bad here, I must go outside. (Exit through window, C.)

      Dr. (turning to Mrs. Dozey) In my fifth volume.

      Sir H. (top of stairs, L.) See to it at once.

      Dr.

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