Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 91

CECIL. No ties, no responsibilities, no ghastly little villa with children bellowing in the nursery. Just life in the open hedgerow. Life and love. Happy cuckoo!

EVELYN [_furious_]. I think cuckoos detestable. They're mean, horrid, _disgusting_ birds.

CECIL. No. No. I can't have you abusing cuckoos. They're particular friends of mine. In fact, I'm a sort of cuckoo myself.

EVELYN [_turning on him_]. Oh, I hate you! I hate you! [_Stamps her foot._]

CECIL [_with quiet conviction_]. You don't.

EVELYN. I do!

CECIL [_shaking his head_]. You don't. [_Quite gravely._] One never really hates the people one has once loved.

[_He looks into her eyes. For a moment or two she returns his gaze fiercely. Then her eyes fall and they fill with tears._]

EVELYN [_half crying_]. How horrid you are to say that!

CECIL. Why?

EVELYN. Because it's true, I suppose. Ah, I'm so unhappy! [_Begins to cry._]

CECIL [_genuinely distressed_]. Eve! You're crying. You mustn't do that.

I can't bear seeing people cry. [_Lays hand on her shoulder._]

EVELYN [_shaking it off_]. Don't. I can't bear you to touch me. After falling in love with one girl after another like that. When I thought you were only in love with me.

CECIL. So I am only in love with you--now.

EVELYN [_tearfully_]. But I thought you'd never been in love with any one else. And I let you call me Eve because you said she was the first woman man ever loved.

CECIL. But I never said she was the only one, did I?

[_Argumentatively._] And one can't help being in love with people when one _is_ in love, can one? I couldn't _help_ falling in love with you, for instance, the moment I saw you. You looked simply splendid. It was such a splendid day too. _Of course_ I fell in love with you.

EVELYN [_slightly appeased by his compliment, drying her eyes_]. But you seem to fall in love with such a lot of people.

CECIL. I do. [_Mischievously._] But ought _you_ to throw stones at me?

After all, being in love with more than one person is no worse than having more than one person in love with you. How about Reggie?

EVELYN. Reggie? [_The sparrows' chatter starts again._]

CECIL [_nods_]. Reggie's in love with you, isn't he? So am I. And both at once too! I'm only in love with one person at a time.

EVELYN [_rebelliously_]. I can't help Reggie being in love with me.

CECIL. And I can't help _my_ being in love with you. That's just my point. I knew you'd see it.

EVELYN. I don't see it at all. Reggie is quite different from you.

Reggie's love is true and constant....

CECIL. Well, I'm a _constant_ lover if you come to that.

EVELYN. You aren't. You know you aren't.

CECIL. Yes, I am. A constant lover is a lover who is constantly in love.

EVELYN. Only with the same person.

CECIL. It doesn't say so. It only says constant.

EVELYN [_half-laughing_]. How ridiculous you are! [_Turns away._]

CECIL [_sigh of relief_]. That's right. Now you're good-tempered again.

EVELYN. I'm not.

CECIL. What a story!

EVELYN. I'm not. I'm very, _very_ angry.

CECIL. That's impossible. You can't possibly be angry and laugh at the same time, can you? No one can. And you _did_ laugh. You're doing it now.

[_She does so unwillingly._]

So don't let's quarrel any more. It's absurd to quarrel on such a fine day, isn't it? Let's make it up, and be lovers again.

[_The sparrows die away._]

EVELYN [_shaking her head_]. No.

CECIL. Please!

EVELYN [_shaking her head_]. No.

CECIL. Well, you're very foolish. Love isn't a thing to throw away. It's too precious for that. Love is the most beautiful thing in the whole world. You said so yourself not ten minutes ago.

EVELYN. I didn't. You said it. [_Looking down._]

CECIL. But you said it after me. [_Gently and gravely._] Eve, dear, don't be silly. Let's be in love while we can. Youth is the time to be in love, isn't it? Soon you and I will be dull and stupid and middle-aged like all the other tedious people. And then it will be too late. Youth pa.s.ses so quickly. Don't let's waste a second of it. They say the May-fly only lives for one day. He is born in the morning. All the afternoon he flutters over the river in the suns.h.i.+ne, dodging the trout and flirting with other May-flies. And at evening he dies. Think of the poor May-fly who happens to be born on a wet day! The tragedy of it!

EVELYN [_softly_]. Poor May-fly.

CECIL. There! You're sorry for the May-fly, you see. You're only angry with me.

EVELYN. Because you're not a May-fly.

CECIL. Yes, I am. A sort of May-fly.

EVELYN [_with suspicion of tears in her voice_]. You aren't. How can you be? Besides, you said you were a cuckoo just now.