In the garden restaurant of a hotel at Remagen on the Rhine,
on a fine afternoon in August in the eighteen-eighties. Looking
down the Rhine towards Bonn, the gate leading from the garden to
the riverside is seen on the right. The hotel is on the left. It
has a wooden annex with an entrance marked Table d'Hote. A waiter
is in attendance. A couple of English tourists come out of the hotel. The
younger, Dr Harry Trench, is about 24, stoutly built, thick in
the neck, close-cropped and black in the hair, with undignified
medical-student manners, frank, hasty, rather boyish. The other,
Mr William de Burgh Cokane, is older probably over 40, possibly
50 an ill-nourished, scanty-haired gentleman, with affected
manners; fidgety, touchy, and constitutionally ridiculous in
uncompassionate eyes.
COKANE
[on the threshold of the hotel, calling peremptorily to the
waiter] Two beers for us out here.
[The waiter goes for the beer.] Cokane comes into the
garden]. We have got the room with the best view in the hotel,
Harry, thanks to my tact. We'll leave in the morning and do Mainz
and Frankfurt. There is a very graceful female statue in the
private house of a nobleman in Frankfurt. Also a zoo. Next day,
Nuremberg! finest collection of instruments of torture in the
world.
TRENCH All right. You look out the trains, will
you?
[He takes out a Continental Bradshaw, and tosses it on one of
the tables].
COKANE
[baulking himself in the act of sitting down] Pah! the
seat is all dusty. These foreigners are deplorably unclean in their
habits.
TRENCH
[buoyantly] Never mind : It dont matter, old chappie. Buck
up, Billy, buck up. Enjoy yourself.
[He throws Cokane into the chair, and sits down opposite him,
taking out his pipe, and singing noisily]
Pour out the Rhine wine: let it flow Like a free and bounding river
COKANE
[scandalized] In the name of common decency, Harry, will
you remember that you are a gentleman and not a coster on Hampstead
Heath on Bank Holiday? Would you dream of behaving like this in
London?
TRENCH Oh, rot! Ive come abroad to enjoy myself.
So would you if youd just passed an examination after four years in
the medical school and walking the hospital.
[He again bursts into song.]
COKANE
[rising] Trench: either you travel as a gentleman, or you
travel alone. This is what makes Englishmen unpopular on the
Continent. It may not matter before the natives; but the people who
came on board the steamer at Bonn are English. I have been uneasy
all the afternoon about what they must think of us. Look at our
appearance.
TRENCH Whats wrong with our appearance?
COKANE
Negligé, my dear fellow,
negligé. On the steamboat a little
negligé was quite
en regie; but here, in this hotel, some of them are sure
to dress for dinner; and you have nothing but that Norfolk jacket.
How are they to know that you are well connected if you do not shew
it by your manners?
TRENCH Pooh! the steamboat people were the scum of
the earth Americans and all sorts. They may go hang themselves,
Billy. I shall not bother about them.
[He strikes a match, and proceeds to light his pipe.]
COKANE Do drop calling me Billy in public, Trench.
My name is Cokane. I am sure they were persons of consequence: you
were struck with the distinguished appearance of the father
yourself.
TRENCH
[sobered at once] What! those people?
[He blows out the match and puts up his pipe.]
COKANE
[following up his advantage triumphantly] Here, Harry,
here: at this hotel. I recognized the father's umbrella in the
hall.
TRENCH
[with a touch of genuine shame] I suppose I ought to have
brought a change. But a lot of luggage is such a nuisance; and
[rising abruptly] at all events we can go and have a wash.[He turns to go into the hotel, but stops in consternation,
seeing some people coming up to the riverside gate]. Oh, I
say! Here they are.
A lady and gentleman, followed by a porter with some light
parcels, not luggage, but shop purchases, come into the garden.
They are apparently father and daughter. The gentleman is 50,
tall, well preserved, and of upright carriage. His incisive,
domineering utterance and imposing style, with his strong
aquiline nose and resolute clean-shaven mouth, give him an air of
importance. He wears a light grey frock-coat with silk linings, a
white hat, and a field-glass slung in a new leather case. A
self-made man, formidable to servants, not easily accessible to
anyone. His daughter is a well-dressed, well-fed, good-looking,
strong-minded young woman, presentably ladylike, but still her
father's daughter. Nevertheless fresh and attractive, and none
the worse for being vital and energetic rather than delicate and
refined.
COKANE
[quickly taking the arm of Trench, who is staring as if
transfixed] Recollect yourself, Harry: presence of mind,
presence of mind!
[He strolls with him towards the hotel. The waiter comes out
with the beer]. Kellner:
Ceci-la est notre table. Est-ce que vous comprenez
Français?
WAITER Yes, zare. Oil right, zare.
THE GENTLEMAN
[to his porter] Place those things on that table.
[The porter does not understand]
WAITER
[interposing] Zese zhentellmen are using zis table, zare.
Vould you mind?
THE GENTLEMAN
[severely] You should have told me so before.
[To Cokane, with fierce condescension] I regret the
mistake, sir.
COKANE Dont mention it, my dear sir: dont mention
it. Retain the place, I beg.
THE GENTLEMAN
{coldly turning his back on him] Thank you.
[To the porter] Place them on that table.
[The porter makes no movement until the gentleman points to the
parcels and peremptorily raps on another table, nearer the
gate]
.
PORTER
Ja wohl, gnad'g' Herr.
[He puts down the parcels].
THE GENTLEMAN
[taking out a handful of money] Waiter.
WAITER
[awestruck] Yes, zare.
THE GENTLEMAN Tea. For two. Out here.
WAITER Yes, zare.
[He goes into the hotel.]
The gentleman selects a small coin from his handful of money,
and gives it to the porter, who receives it with a submissive
touch to his cap, and goes out, not daring to speak. His daughter
sits down and opens a parcel of photographs. The gentleman takes
out a Baedeker; places a chair for himself; and then, before
sitting down, looks truculently at Cokane,as if waiting for him
to take himself off. Cokane, not at all abashed, resumes his
place at the other table with an air of modest good breeding, and
calls to Trench, who is prowling irresolutely in the
background.
COKANE Trench, my dear fellow: your beer is
waiting for you.
[He drinks.]
TRENCH
[glad of the excuse to come back to his chair] Thank you,
Cokane.
[He also drinks.]
COKANE By the way, Harry, I have often meant to
ask you: is Lady Roxdale your mother's sister or your father's?
[This shot tells immediately. The gentleman is perceptibly
interested.]
TRENCH My mother's, of course. What put that into
your head?
COKANE Nothing. I was just thinking hm! She will
expect you to marry, Harry: a doctor ought to marry.
TRENCH What has she got to do with it?
COKANE A great deal, dear boy. She looks forward
to floating your wife in society in London.
TRENCH What rot!
COKANE Ah, you are young, dear boy: You dont know
the importance of these things apparently idle ceremonial trifles,
really the springs and wheels of a great aristocratic system.
[The waiter comes back with the tea things, which he brings to
the gentleman's table. Cokane rises and addresses the
gentleman] My dear sir, excuse my addressing you; but I cannot
help feeling that you prefer this table and that we are in your
way.
THE GENTLEMAN
[grafiously] Thank you. Blanche: This gentleman very
kindly offers us his table, if you would prefer it.
BLANCHE Oh, thanks: It makes no difference.
THE GENTLEMAN
[to Cokane} We are fellow travellers, I believe, sir.
COKANE Fellow travellers and fellow countrymen.
Ah, we rarely feel the charm of our own tongue until it reaches our
ears under a foreign sky. You have no doubt noticed that?
THE GENTLEMAN
[a little puzzled] Hm! From a romantic point of view,
possibly, very possibly. As a matter of fact, the sound of English
makes me feel at home; and I dislike feeling at home when I am
abroad. It is not precisely what one goes to the expense for.
[He looks at Trench] I think this gentleman travelled with
us also.
COKANE
[acting as master of the ceremonies] My valued friend, Dr
Trench.
[The gentleman and Trench rise.] Trench, my dear fellow,
allow me to introduce you to er?
[He looks enquiringly at the gentleman, waiting for the
name.]
THE GENTLEMAN Permit me to shake your hand, Dr
Trench. My name is Sartorius; and I have the honor of being known
to Lady Roxdale, who is, I believe, a near relative of yours.
Blanche,
[She looks up.] Dr Trench.
[They bow.]
TRENCH Perhaps I should introduce my friend Cokane
to you, Mr Sartorius: Mr William de Burgh Cokane.
[Cokane makes an elaborate bow. Sartorius accepts it with
dignity. The waiter meanwhile returns with teapot, hot water,
etc.]
SARTORIUS
[to the waiter] Two more cups.
WAITER Yes, zare.
[He goes into the hotel.]
BLANCHE Do you take sugar, Mr Cokane?
COKANE Thank you.
[To Sartorius] This is really too kind. Harry: Bring your
chair round.
SARTORIUS You are very welcome.
[Trench brings his chair to the tea table; and they all sit
round it. The waiter returns with two more cups.]
WAITER
Table d'hote at 'alf past zix, zhentellmenn. Ahnyzing else
now, zare?
SARTORIUS No. You can go.
[The waiter goes.]
COKANE
[very agreeably] Do you contemplate a long stay here, Miss
Sartorius?
BLANCHE We were thinking of going on to
Rolandseck. Is it as nice as this place?
COKANE Harry: The Baedeker. Thank you.
[He consults the index, and looks out Rolandseck.]
BLANCHE Sugar, Dr Trench?
TRENCH Thanks.
[She hands him the cup, and looks meaningly at him for an
instant. He looks down hastily, and glances apprehensively at
Sartorius, who is preoccupied with a piece of bread and
butter].
COKANE Rolandseck appears to be an extremely
interesting place.
[Rereads] "It is one of the most beautiful and frequented
spots on the river, and is surrounded with numerous villas and
pleasant gardens, chiefly belonging to wealthy merchants from the
Lower Rhine, and extending along the wooded slopes at the back of
the village."
BLANCHE That sounds civilized and comfortable. I
vote we go there.
SARTORIUS Quite like our place at Surbiton, my
dear.
BLANCHE Quite.
COKANE You have a place down the river? Ah, I envy
you.
SARTORIUS No: I have merely taken a furnished
villa at Surbiton for the summer. I live in Bedford Square. I am a
vestryman and must reside in the parish.
BLANCHE Another cup, Mr Cokane?
COKANE Thank you, no.
[To Sartorius] I presume you have been round this little
place. Not much to see here, except the Apollinaris Church.
SARTORIUS
[scandalized] The what!
COKANE The Apollinaris Church.
SARTORIUS A strange name to give a church. Very
continental, I must say.
COKANE Ah, yes, yes, yes. That is where our
neighbors fall short sometimes, Mr Sartorius: Taste, taste is what
they occasionally fail in. But in this instance they are not to
blame. The water is called after the church, not the church after
the water.
SARTORIUS
[as if this were an extenuating circumstance but not a complete
excuse] I am glad to hear it. Is the church a celebrated one?
COKANE Baedeker stars it.
SARTORIUS
[respectfully] Oh, in that case I should like to see it.
COKANE
[reading] "...erected in 1839 by Zwirner, the late eminent
architect of the cathedral of Cologne, at the expense of Count
Fiirstenberg-Stammheim."
SARTORIUS
[much impressed] We must certainly see that, Mr Cokane. I
had no idea that the architect of Cologne cathedral lived so
recently.
BLANCHE Dont let us bother about any more
churches, papa. Theyre all the same; and I'm tired to death of
them.
SARTORIUS Well, my dear, if you think it sensible
to take a long and expensive journey to see what there is to be
seen, and then go away without seeing it
BLANCHE Not this afternoon, papa, please.
SARTORIUS My dear: I should like you to see
everything. It is part of your education
BLANCHE
[rising, with a petulant sigh] Oh, my education! Very
well, very well: I suppose I must go through with it. Are you
coming, Dr Trench?
[with a grimace] I'm sure the Johannis Church will be a
treat for you.
COKANE
[laughing softly and archly] Ah, excellent, excellent:
Very good, indeed.
[Seriously] But do you know, Miss Sartorius, there
actually are Johannis churches here several of them as well as
Apollinaris ones?
SARTORIUS
[Sententiously, taking out his field-glass and leading the way
to the gate] There is many a true word spoken in jest, Mr
Cokane.
COKANE
[accompanying him] How true! How true!
[They go out together, ruminating profoundly. Blanche makes no
movement to follow them. She watches until they are safely out of
sight, and then posts herself before Trench, looking at him with an
enigmatic smile, which he returns with a half sheepish, half
conceited grin.]
BLANCHE Well! So you have done it at last.
TRENCH Yes. At least Cokane's done it. I told you
he'd manage it. He's rather an ass in some ways; but he has
tremendous tact.
BLANCHE
[contemptuously] Tact! Thats not tact : thats
inquisitiveness. Inquisitive people always have a lot of practice
in getting into conversation with strangers. Why didnt you speak to
my father yourself on the boat? You were ready enough to speak to
me without any introduction.
TRENCH I didnt particularly want to talk to him.
BLANCHE It didnt occur to you, I suppose, that you
put me in a false position by that.
TRENCH Oh, I dont see that, exactly. Besides, your
father isnt an easy man to tackle. Of course, now that I know him,
I see that he's pleasant enough; but then youve got to know him
first, havnt you?
BLANCHE
[impatiently] Everybody is afraid of papa: I'm sure I dont
know why.
[She sits down again, pouting a little.]
TRENCH
[tenderly] However, it's all right now: Isnt it?
[He sits near her.]
BLANCHE
[sharply] I dont know. How should I? You had no right to
speak to me that day on board the steamer. You thought I was alone,
because
[with false pathos] I had no mother with me.
TRENCH
[protesting] Oh, I say! Come! It was you who spoke to me.
Of course I was only too glad of the chance; but on my word I
shouldnt have moved an eyelid if you hadnt given me a lead.
BLANCHE I only asked you the name of a castle.
There was nothing unladylike in that.
TRENCH Of course not. Why shouldnt you?
[With renewed tenderness] But it's all right now: Isnt it?
BLANCHE
[softly, looking subtly at him] Is it?
TRENCH
[suddenly becoming shy] I, I suppose so. By the way, what
about the Apollinaris Church? Your father expects us to follow him,
doesnt he?
BLANCHE
[with suppressed resentment] Dont let me detain you if you
wish to see it.
TRENCH Wont you come?
BLANCHE No.
[She turns her face away moodily.]
TRENCH
[alarmed] I say: youre not offended, are you?
[She looks round at him for a moment with a reproachful film on
her eyes.] Blanche-
[She bristles instantly; overdoes it and frightens him.] I
beg your pardon for calling you by your name; but I er-
[She corrects her mistake by softening her expression
eloquently. He responds with a gush] You dont mind, do you? I
felt sure you wouldnt, somehow. Well, look here. I have no idea how
you will receive this: It must seem horribly abrupt; but the
circumstances do not admit of- The fact is, my utter want of tact-
[he founders more and more, unable to see that she can
hardly contain her eagerness.]
Now, if it were Cokane-
BLANCHE
[impatiently] Cokane!
TRENCH
[terrified] No, not Cokane. Though I assure you I was only
going to say about him that-
BLANCHE That he will be back presently with papa.
TRENCH
[stupidly] Yes: They cant be very long now. I hope I'm not
detaining you.
BLANCHE I thought you were detaining me because
you had something to say.
TRENCH
[totally unnerved] Not at all. At least, nothing very
particular. That is, I'm afraid you wouldnt think it very
particular. Another time, perhaps-
BLANCHE What other time? How do you know that we
shall ever meet again?
[Desperately] Tell me now. I want you to tell me now.
TRENCH Well, I was thinking that if we could make
up our minds to or not to at least er-
[His nervousness deprives him of the power of speech]
BLANCHE
[giving him up as hopeless] I dont think theres much
danger of your making up your mind, Dr Trench.
TRENCH
[stammering] I only thought-
[He stops and looks at her piteously. She hesitates a moment,
and then puts her hands into his with calculated impulsiveness. He
catches her in his arms with a cry of relief.]
Dear Blanche! I thought I should never have said it. I believe
I should have stood stuttering here all day if you hadnt helped me
out with it.
BLANCHE
[trying to get away from him] I didnt help you out with
it.
TRENCH
[holding her] I dont mean that you did it on purpose, of
course. Only instinctively.
BLANCHE
[still a little anxious] But you havnt said anything.
TRENCH What more can I say than this?
[He kisses her again.]
BLANCHE
[overcome by the kiss, but holding on to her point] But
Harry-
TRENCH
[delighted at the name] Yes?
BLANCHE
When shall we be married?
TRENCH At the first church we meet: the
Apollinaris Church, if you like.
BLANCHE No, but seriously. This is serious, Harry:
you musnt joke about it.
TRENCH
[looking suddenly round to the riverside gate and quickly
releasing her] Sh! Here they are back again.
BLANCHE Oh, d-
[The word is drowned by the clangor of a bell from within the
hotel. The waiter appears on the steps, ringing it. Cokane and
Sartorius are seen returning by the river gate]
WAITER
Table d'h6te in dwendy minutes, ladies and zhentellmenn.
[He goes into the hotel.]
SARTORIUS
[gravely] I intended you to accompany us, Blanche.
BLANCHE Yes, papa. We were just about to start.
SARTORIUS We are rather dusty : we must make
ourselves presentable at the
table d'hote. I think you had better come in with me, my
child. Come.
[He offers Blanche his arm. The gravity of his manner overawes
them all. Blanche silently takes his arm and goes into the hotel
with him. Cokane, hardly less momentous than Sartorius himself,
contemplates Trench with the severity of a judge].
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