Far from the Madding Crowd (NHB Modern Plays)
eBook - ePub

Far from the Madding Crowd (NHB Modern Plays)

Stage Version

Thomas Hardy

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eBook - ePub

Far from the Madding Crowd (NHB Modern Plays)

Stage Version

Thomas Hardy

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About This Book

Thomas Hardy's popular and enduring novel, adapted for the stage by Mark Healy.

Having inherited her father's farm, the spirited and feisty young Bathsheba Everdene finds herself playing mistress in a man's world. She is pursued by three would-be lovers: the constant shepherd, Gabriel Oak; the obsessive landowner, William Boldwood; and the reckless Sergeant Troy. But are any of them a match for the headstrong and independent Bathsheba?

This edition includes notes by adaptor Mark Healy on producing the play yourself, including advice on cast size, staging, music and accents.

'Haunting... brooding... smouldering... dynamic drama' - Guardian

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Information

Year
2016
ISBN
9781780017532
BATHSHEBA. Wake up! You must wake up!
OAK (waking from his dream, gasping for breath). What’s the matter?
BATHSHEBA. Nothing now, since you’re not dead… It’s a wonder you weren’t suffocated in that hut of yours.
OAK, choking, stares at her, hardly believing she is really there.
You shouldn’t have been so foolish as to go to sleep with the slides closed, and your fire still burning.
OAK (coughs). How did you find me?
BATHSHEBA. I saw the smoke billowing through your door when I came to milking. I had to drag you out, you were so overcome.
OAK. I believe you saved my life, miss –
BATHSHEBA. Don’t be foolish.
OAK. What’s your name?
BATHSHEBA. I would just as soon not tell it, rather not.
OAK. My name’s Gabriel Oak.
BATHSHEBA. And mine isn’t. You seem fond of yours in speaking it so decisively, Gabriel Oak.
OAK (uncertain). It’s the only one I’ve got.
BATHSHEBA. I always think mine sounds… ugly.
OAK. I should think you might soon get a new one…
An awkward moment.
Come, give me your hand.
BATHSHEBA. Whatever for?
OAK. Why, to shake it, with thanks.
After a moment’s hesitation, she does so.
BATHSHEBA. Very well.
OAK. So, thank you… whatever your name is…
He looks at her hand.
It’s so soft – not chapped or rough, or anything.
BATHSHEBA. I suppose you are thinking you’d like to kiss it, Mr Oak?
OAK looks at her, astonished.
You may if you want to.
OAK (letting her hand go). I wasn’t thinking any such thing.
BATHSHEBA laughs.
Why, indeed, you might be a handsome maid but you are not without your faults.
BATHSHEBA. Am I now? I’m somewhat surprised to hear that from one whose life I have just saved.
She studies him.
So, what exactly are these ‘faults’ of mine?
OAK. I’ve seen you since you come to Norcombe. I’ve watched you minding the herd, driving your aunt’s cart to Chalk-Newton. You work hard but you always stop to mind your looks. So, I would say your greatest fault is as it always is in beauty.
BATHSHEBA (laughing). Oh, yes, and what would you know of beauty?
She sees she has offended him.
Tell me then, what is this great weakness of mine?
OAK. Vanity.
BATHSHEBA is shocked.
Yet you are right, I shall for ever be in debt to you.
BATHSHEBA starts to leave.
Wait. Where are you going?
BATHSHEBA. Home.
OAK. At least tell me your name. ’Tis unbalanced this way.
BATHSHEBA. No. If you wish to know it, you must find it out. Good day, Gabriel Oak!
BATHSHEBA leaves.
OAK notices her hat on the ground.
OAK. Your hat, miss!
OAK. Ah, Mrs Hurst.
MRS HURST. Good day to you, Mr Oak.
OAK. Will you tell your niece that I’d be glad to speak with her?
BATHSHEBA listens from her hiding p...

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