CREMER. What's that? [Then, as STRANGWAY does not answer] I'll
just be walkin'--I won' be gain' 'ome to-night. 'Tes the full mune--
lucky.

STRANGWAY. [Suddenly] Wait for me at the crossroads, Jack. I'll
come with you. Will you have me, brother?

CREMER. Sure!

STRANGWAY. Wait, then.

CREMER. Aye, zurr.

[With his heavy tread CREMER passes on. And STRANGWAY leans
against the lintel of the door, looking at the moon, that, quite
full and golden, hangs not far above the straight horizon, where
the trees stand small, in a row.]

STRANGWAY. [Lifting his hand in the gesture of prayer] God, of the
moon and the sun; of joy and beauty, of loneliness and sorrow--give
me strength to go on, till I love every living thing!

[He moves away, following JACK CREMER. The full moon shines;
the owl hoots; and some one is shaking TIBBY'S tambourine.]

THE FOUNDATIONS

(AN EXTRAVAGANT PLAY)

PERSONS OF THE PLAY

LORD WILLIAM DROMONDY, M.P.
LADY WILLIAM DROMONDY
LITTLE ANNE
MISS STOKES
MR. POULDER
JAMES
HENRY
THOMAS
CHARLES
THE PRESS
LEMMY
OLD MRS. LEMMY
LITTLE AIDA
THE DUKE OF EXETER

Some ANTI-SWEATERS; Some SWEATED WORKERS; and a CROWD

SCENES

SCENE I. The cellar at LORD WILLIAM DROMONDY'S in Park Lane.

SCENE II. The room of old MRS. LEMMY in Bethnal Green.

SCENE III. Ante-room of the hall at LORD WILLIAM DROMONDY'S

The Action passes continuously between 8 and 10.30 of a
summer evening, some years after the Great War.

ACT I

LORD WILLIAM DROMONDY'S mansion in Park Lane. Eight o'clock of the
evening. LITTLE ANNE DROMONDY and the large footman, JAMES, gaunt
and grin, discovered in the wine cellar, by light of gas. JAMES, in
plush breeches, is selecting wine.

L. ANNE: James, are you really James?

JAMES. No, my proper name's John.

L. ANNE. Oh! [A pause] And is Charles's an improper name too?

JAMES. His proper name's Mark.

L. ANNE. Then is Thomas Matthew?

JAMES. Miss Anne, stand clear o' that bin. You'll put your foot
through one o' those 'ock bottles.

L. ANNE. No, but James--Henry might be Luke, really?

JAMES. Now shut it, Miss Anne!

L. ANNE. Who gave you those names? Not your godfathers and
godmothers?

JAMES. Poulder. Butlers think they're the Almighty. [Gloomily]
But his name's Bartholomew.

L. ANNE. Bartholomew Poulder? It's rather jolly.

JAMES. It's hidjeous.

L. ANNE