King Arthur's Socks and Other Village Plays Part 16

HE. (_surprised_) No! Why do you say that?

SHE. (_coolly_) Why should I marry you? I know nothing about you.

I've known you for less than an hour.

HE. (_sardonically_) That fact didn't seem to keep you from kissing me.

SHE. Besides--I don't like the way you go about it. If you'd propose the same way you made love to me, maybe I'd accept you.

HE. All right. (_Dropping on one knee before her_) Beloved! (_An awkward pause_) No, I can't do it. (_He gets up and distractedly dusts off his knees with his handkerchief_.) I'm very sorry.

SHE. (_with calm inquiry_) Perhaps it's because you don't love me any more?

HE. (_fretfully_) Of course I love you!

SHE. (_coldly_) But you don't want to marry me.... I see.

HE. Not at all! I do want to marry you. But--

SHE. Well?

HE. Marriage is a serious matter. Now don't take offense! I only meant that-well--(_He starts again_.) We _are_ in love with each other, and that's the important thing. But, as you said, we don't know each other.

I've no doubt that when we get acquainted we will like each other better still. But we've got to get acquainted first.

SHE. (_rising_) You're just like Tubby buying a house. You want to know all about it. Well! I warn you that you'll never know all about me. So you needn't try.

HE. (_apologetically_) It was _your_ suggestion.

SHE. (_impatiently_) Oh, all right! Go ahead and cross-examine me if you like. I'll tell you to begin with that I'm perfectly healthy, and that there's no T. B., insanity, or Socialism in my family. What else do you want to know?

HE.(_hesitantly_) Why did you put in Socialism, along with insanity and T. B.?

SHE. Oh, just for fun. You aren't a Socialist, are you?

HE. Yes. (_Earnestly_) Do you know what Socialism is?

SHE. (_innocently_) It's the same thing as Anarchy, isn't it?

HE. (_gently_) No. At least not my kind. I believe in munic.i.p.al owners.h.i.+p of street cars, and all that sort of thing. I'll give you some books to read.

SHE. Well, I never ride in street cars, so I don't care whether they're munic.i.p.ally owned or not. By the way, do you dance?

HE. No.

SHE. You must learn right away. I can't bother to teach you myself, but I know where you can get private lessons and become really good in a month. It is stupid not to be able to dance.

HE. (_as if he had tasted quinine_) I can see myself doing the tango!

Grr!

SHE. The tango went out long ago, my dear.

HE. (_with great decision_) Well--I _won't_ learn to dance. You might as well know that to begin with.

SHE. And I won't read your old books on Socialism. You might as well know that to begin with!

HE. Come, come! This will never do. You see, my dear, it's simply that I _can't_ dance, and there's no use for me to try to learn.

SHE. Anybody can learn. I've made expert dancers out of the awkwardest men!

HE. But, you see, I've no inclination toward dancing. It's out of my world.

SHE. And I've no inclination toward munic.i.p.al owners.h.i.+p. _It's_ out of _my_ world!

HE. It ought not to be out of the world of any intelligent person.

SHE. (_turning her back on him_) All right--if you want to call me stupid!

HE. (_turning and looking away meditatively_) It appears that we have very few tastes in common.

SHE. (_tapping her foot_) So it seems.

HE. If we married we might be happy for a month--

SHE. Perhaps.

_They remain with their backs to each other_.

HE. And then--the old story. Quarrels. . . .

SHE. I never could bear quarrels. . . .

HE. An unhappy marriage. . . .

SHE. (_realizing it_) Oh!

HE. (_hopelessly turning toward her_) I can't marry you.

SHE. (_recovering quickly and facing him with a smile_) n.o.body asked you, sir!

HE. (_with a gesture of finality_) Well--there seems to be no more to say.

SHE. (_sweetly_) Except good-bye.

HE. (_firmly_) Good-by, then.

_He holds out his hand_.

SHE. (_taking it_) Good-bye!