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John Galsworthy
John Galsworthy (1867-1933) was an English novelist and playwright renowned for his series of novels collectively titled "The Forsyte Saga," which offers a critical portrayal of the upper-middle-class in Britain during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1932 for his distinguished art of narration which takes its highest form in "The Forsyte Saga." Galsworthy was also a social activist, advocating for prison reform, women's rights, and animal welfare throughout his life.
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John Galsworthy
ACT I SCENE I The curtain rises on the BARTHWICK'S dining-room, large, modern, and well furnished; the window curtains drawn. Electric light is burning. On the large round dining-table is set out a tray with whisky, a syphon, and a silver cigarette-box. It is past midnight. A fumbling is heard outside the door. It is opened suddenly; JACK BARTHWICK seems to fall into the room. He stands holding by...
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John Galsworthy
SCENE I It is just after sunset of an August evening. The scene is aroom in a mountain hut, furnished only with a table, benches.and a low broad window seat. Through this window three rockypeaks are seen by the light of a moon which is slowly whiteningthe last hues of sunset. An oil lamp is burning. SEELCHEN, amountain girl, eighteen years old, is humming a folk-song, andputting away in a cupboard...
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John Galsworthy
ACT I It is Ascension Day in a village of the West. In the low panelled hall-sittingroom of the BURLACOMBE'S farmhouse on the village green, MICHAEL STRANGWAY, a clerical collar round his throat and a dark Norfolk jacket on his back, is playing the flute before a very large framed photograph of a woman, which is the only picture on the walls. His age is about thirty-five his figure thin and very...
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John Galsworthy
CHAPTER I Mayday afternoon in Oxford Street, and Felix Freeland, a little late, on his way from Hampstead to his brother John's house in Porchester Gardens. Felix Freeland, author, wearing the very first gray top hat of the season. A compromise, that—like many other things in his life and works—between individuality and the accepted view of things, aestheticism and fashion, the critical sense...
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John Galsworthy
THE FIRST AND LAST "So the last shall be first, and the first last."—HOLY WRIT. It was a dark room at that hour of six in the evening, when just the single oil reading-lamp under its green shade let fall a dapple of light over the Turkey carpet; over the covers of books taken out of the bookshelves, and the open pages of the one selected; over the deep blue and gold of the coffee service on...
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John Galsworthy
ACT I The time is morning, and the scene a level lawn, beyond whichthe river is running amongst fields. A huge old beech treeovershadows everything, in the darkness of whose hollow manythings are hidden. A rustic seat encircles it. A low wallclothed in creepers, with two openings, divides this lawn fromthe flowery approaches to the house. Close to the wall there isa swing. The sky is clear and sunny....
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John Galsworthy
ACT I It is the night of Christmas Eve, the SCENE is a Studio, flushwith the street, having a skylight darkened by a fall of snow.There is no one in the room, the walls of which are whitewashed,above a floor of bare dark boards. A fire is cheerfullyburning. On a model's platform stands an easel and canvas.There are busts and pictures; a screen, a little stool, two arm.chairs, and a long...
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John Galsworthy
ENCOUNTER Soames Forsyte emerged from the Knightsbridge Hotel, where he was staying, in the afternoon of the 12th of May, 1920, with the intention of visiting a collection of pictures in a Gallery off Cork Street, and looking into the Future. He walked. Since the War he never took a cab if he could help it. Their drivers were, in his view, an uncivil lot, though, now that the War was over and supply...
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by:
John Galsworthy
ACT I SCENE I The curtain rises on the BARTHWICK'S dining-room, large, modern, and well furnished; the window curtains drawn. Electric light is burning. On the large round dining-table is set out a tray with whisky, a syphon, and a silver cigarette-box. It is past midnight. A fumbling is heard outside the door. It is opened suddenly; JACK BARTHWICK seems to fall into the room. He stands holding by...
more...
by:
John Galsworthy
QUALITY I knew him from the days of my extreme youth, because he made my father's boots; inhabiting with his elder brother two little shops let into one, in a small by-street-now no more, but then most fashionably placed in the West End. That tenement had a certain quiet distinction; there was no sign upon its face that he made for any of the Royal Family—merely his own German name of Gessler...
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