[ubuntu-mono] firebird

[Tisa Eagleson]

Ou tried? Denham. Oh, _we_ can resist temptation, when 


R. An uncynical compliment at last! Denham. (_bowing_) 'Tis but your due, madam, I protest. Come, sit down, and let us be lazy. (_Pushes armchair round for Mrs. Tremaine, takes chair from "throne" and sits near her._) We have worked very hard. Do you ever go to the theatre? Mrs. Tremaine. Sometimes. Denham. Does it amuse you? Mrs. Tremaine. Oh yes! I like a good three act farce. Denham. So do I. But our serious plays are amusing in a deeper way--now that we have begun timidly to scratch the surface of things. I wonder, if you and I were put on the stage, what they would say of us? Mrs. Tremaine. But there is nothing to make a play about in _us_. Denham. They would certainly say there was "no situation," though perhaps-- Mrs. Tremaine. What _is_ a situation? Denham. Oh, you know--something threadbare, the outraged husband driving his erring wife about the stage--all that sort of thing. Mrs. Tremaine. I love an outraged husband; they are so magnificently moral! Denham. Unfortunately I am on no such pinnacle. (_Rises._) I can only humbly ask you, when will you sit again? Mrs. Tremaine. Oh, now that you have painted that masterpiece, I must resign the privilege of being your model. Denham. That is unkind of you, Blanche. But why? (_Puts his pipe down._) Mrs. Tremaine. You can't go on painting _me_ for ever. Denham. I _shall_ go on painting you for ever. But you will surely give me an occasional sitting? Mrs. Tremaine. No; I must be stern. (_Rises and crosses C._) I must work seriously now. Denham. At least you'll come and see us? You'll come and sing the savageness out of this bear? Mrs. Tremaine. No; I must go back into the desert. Denham. Seriously? Mrs. Tremaine. Yes. Denham. I knew it must come to an end, Blanche. (_Crosses C._) Well, we have had a good time. Mrs. Tremaine. Yes. It has been pleasant here. Denham. You have been my good genius. Do you know, I was getting sick of it all before you came? Mrs. Tremaine. Sick of what? Denham. Of myself, of art, of life. Mrs. Tremaine. That was foolish. I am glad if I have reconciled you to existence. Denham. You have made me alive again, opened a door to new possibilities, let me out into the su
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