The Profligate: A Play in Four Acts

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William Heinemann, 1914 - 123 pages
 

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Page 122 - How dull sleeplessness makes me! How much could I regain of what I've lost! Why, she knows me — nothing can ever undo that — she knows me. Every day would be a dreary, hideous masquerade; every night a wakeful, torturing retrospect. If she smiled, I should whisper to myself — "Yes, yes, that's a very pretty pretence, but — she knows you!
Page 67 - I married her, as it were, in darkness ; she seemed to take me by the hand and to lead me out into the light. Murray, the companionship of this pure woman is a revelation of life to me ! I tell you there are times when she stands before me that I am like a man dazzled and can scarcely look at her without shading my eyes. But you know — because you read my future — you know what my existence has become ! The Past has overtaken me ! I am in deadly fear ! I dread the visit of a stranger, or the...
Page 38 - Renshaw, do you imagine there is no autumn in the life of a profligate? Do you think there is no moment when the accursed crop begins to rear its millions of heads above ground; when the rich man would give his wealth to be able to tread them back into the earth which rejects the foul load?
Page 123 - ... upon my shoulders, and the little good that is in me shall enter into your heart. We will start life anew — always seeking for the best that we can do, always trying to repair the worst that we have done. [Stretching out her hand to him.] Dunstan! [He approaches her as in a dream.'} Don't fear me! I will be your wife, not your judge. Let us from this moment begin the new life you spoke of. DUNSTAN. [He tremblingly touches her hand as she bursts into tears.] Wife! Ah, God bless you!
Page 38 - To-morrow, next week, next month, you may be happy — but what of the time when those wild oats thrust their ears through the very seams of the floor trodden by the wife whose respect you will have learned to covet! You may drag her into the crowded streets — there is the same vile growth springing up from the chinks of the pavement! In your house or in the open, the scent of the mildewed grain always in your nostrils, and in your ears no music but the wind's rustle amongst the fat sheaves! And,...
Page 121 - Dunstan. Fool! Fool! Why couldn't you have died in Florence? Why did you drag yourself here all these miles — to end it here? I should have known better — I should have known better. (He takes a phial from his pocket and slowly pours some poison into a tumbler.) When I've proved that I could not live away from her, perhaps she'll pity me. I shall never know it, but perhaps she'll pity me then. (About to drink.) Supposing I am blind! Supposing there is some chance of my regaining her. Regaining...
Page iii - Not — part — from me ? LESLIE. No. DUNSTAN I don't understand you. You — will— not— relent? You cannot forget what I am ! LESLIE. No. But the burden of the sin you have committed I will bear upon my shoulders, and the little good that is in me shall enter into your heart. We will start life anew — always seeking for the best that we can do, always trying to repair the worst that we have done. [Stretching out her hand to him.] Dunstan! [He approaches her as in a dream.] Don't fear me!
Page iii - ... DUNSTAN. I don't understand you. You — will — not — relent? You cannot forget what I am! LESLIE. No. But the burden of the sin you have committed I will bear upon my shoulders, and the little good that is in me shall enter into your heart. We will start life anew — always seeking for the best that we can do, always trying to repair the worst that we have done. [Stretching out her hand to him.] Dunstan! [He approaches her as in a dream.'} Don't fear me! I will be your wife, not your judge.

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