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diff --git a/3543-h/3543-h.htm b/3543-h/3543-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1301309 --- /dev/null +++ b/3543-h/3543-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7981 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Heartbreak House, by Bernard Shaw + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Heartbreak House, by George Bernard Shaw + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Heartbreak House + +Author: George Bernard Shaw + +Release Date: January 13, 2009 [EBook #3543] +Last Updated: December 10, 2012 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HEARTBREAK HOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Eve Sobol, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + HEARTBREAK HOUSE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + A FANTASIA IN THE RUSSIAN MANNER ON ENGLISH THEMES + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Bernard Shaw + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + 1913-1916 + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <h3> + Contents + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> HEARTBREAK HOUSE AND HORSEBACK HALL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> HEARTBREAK HOUSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> ACT I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> ACT II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> ACT III </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + HEARTBREAK HOUSE AND HORSEBACK HALL + </h2> + <p> + Where Heartbreak House Stands + </p> + <p> + Heartbreak House is not merely the name of the play which follows this + preface. It is cultured, leisured Europe before the war. When the play was + begun not a shot had been fired; and only the professional diplomatists + and the very few amateurs whose hobby is foreign policy even knew that the + guns were loaded. A Russian playwright, Tchekov, had produced four + fascinating dramatic studies of Heartbreak House, of which three, The + Cherry Orchard, Uncle Vanya, and The Seagull, had been performed in + England. Tolstoy, in his Fruits of Enlightenment, had shown us through it + in his most ferociously contemptuous manner. Tolstoy did not waste any + sympathy on it: it was to him the house in which Europe was stifling its + soul; and he knew that our utter enervation and futilization in that + overheated drawingroom atmosphere was delivering the world over to the + control of ignorant and soulless cunning and energy, with the frightful + consequences which have now overtaken it. Tolstoy was no pessimist: he was + not disposed to leave the house standing if he could bring it down about + the ears of its pretty and amiable voluptuaries; and he wielded the + pickaxe with a will. He treated the case of the inmates as one of opium + poisoning, to be dealt with by seizing the patients roughly and exercising + them violently until they were broad awake. Tchekov, more of a fatalist, + had no faith in these charming people extricating themselves. They would, + he thought, be sold up and sent adrift by the bailiffs; and he therefore + had no scruple in exploiting and even flattering their charm. + </p> + <p> + The Inhabitants + </p> + <p> + Tchekov's plays, being less lucrative than swings and roundabouts, got no + further in England, where theatres are only ordinary commercial affairs, + than a couple of performances by the Stage Society. We stared and said, + "How Russian!" They did not strike me in that way. Just as Ibsen's + intensely Norwegian plays exactly fitted every middle and professional + class suburb in Europe, these intensely Russian plays fitted all the + country houses in Europe in which the pleasures of music, art, literature, + and the theatre had supplanted hunting, shooting, fishing, flirting, + eating, and drinking. The same nice people, the same utter futility. The + nice people could read; some of them could write; and they were the sole + repositories of culture who had social opportunities of contact with our + politicians, administrators, and newspaper proprietors, or any chance of + sharing or influencing their activities. But they shrank from that + contact. They hated politics. They did not wish to realize Utopia for the + common people: they wished to realize their favorite fictions and poems in + their own lives; and, when they could, they lived without scruple on + incomes which they did nothing to earn. The women in their girlhood made + themselves look like variety theatre stars, and settled down later into + the types of beauty imagined by the previous generation of painters. They + took the only part of our society in which there was leisure for high + culture, and made it an economic, political and; as far as practicable, a + moral vacuum; and as Nature, abhorring the vacuum, immediately filled it + up with sex and with all sorts of refined pleasures, it was a very + delightful place at its best for moments of relaxation. In other moments + it was disastrous. For prime ministers and their like, it was a veritable + Capua. + </p> + <p> + Horseback Hall + </p> + <p> + But where were our front benchers to nest if not here? The alternative to + Heartbreak House was Horseback Hall, consisting of a prison for horses + with an annex for the ladies and gentlemen who rode them, hunted them, + talked about them, bought them and sold them, and gave nine-tenths of + their lives to them, dividing the other tenth between charity, churchgoing + (as a substitute for religion), and conservative electioneering (as a + substitute for politics). It is true that the two establishments got mixed + at the edges. Exiles from the library, the music room, and the picture + gallery would be found languishing among the stables, miserably + discontented; and hardy horsewomen who slept at the first chord of + Schumann were born, horribly misplaced, into the garden of Klingsor; but + sometimes one came upon horsebreakers and heartbreakers who could make the + best of both worlds. As a rule, however, the two were apart and knew + little of one another; so the prime minister folk had to choose between + barbarism and Capua. And of the two atmospheres it is hard to say which + was the more fatal to statesmanship. + </p> + <p> + Revolution on the Shelf + </p> + <p> + Heartbreak House was quite familiar with revolutionary ideas on paper. It + aimed at being advanced and freethinking, and hardly ever went to church + or kept the Sabbath except by a little extra fun at weekends. When you + spent a Friday to Tuesday in it you found on the shelf in your bedroom not + only the books of poets and novelists, but of revolutionary biologists and + even economists. Without at least a few plays by myself and Mr Granville + Barker, and a few stories by Mr H. G. Wells, Mr Arnold Bennett, and Mr + John Galsworthy, the house would have been out of the movement. You would + find Blake among the poets, and beside him Bergson, Butler, Scott Haldane, + the poems of Meredith and Thomas Hardy, and, generally speaking, all the + literary implements for forming the mind of the perfect modern Socialist + and Creative Evolutionist. It was a curious experience to spend Sunday in + dipping into these books, and the Monday morning to read in the daily + paper that the country had just been brought to the verge of anarchy + because a new Home Secretary or chief of police without an idea in his + head that his great-grandmother might not have had to apologize for, had + refused to "recognize" some powerful Trade Union, just as a gondola might + refuse to recognize a 20,000-ton liner. + </p> + <p> + In short, power and culture were in separate compartments. The barbarians + were not only literally in the saddle, but on the front bench in the House + of commons, with nobody to correct their incredible ignorance of modern + thought and political science but upstarts from the counting-house, who + had spent their lives furnishing their pockets instead of their minds. + Both, however, were practised in dealing with money and with men, as far + as acquiring the one and exploiting the other went; and although this is + as undesirable an expertness as that of the medieval robber baron, it + qualifies men to keep an estate or a business going in its old routine + without necessarily understanding it, just as Bond Street tradesmen and + domestic servants keep fashionable society going without any instruction + in sociology. + </p> + <p> + The Cherry Orchard + </p> + <p> + The Heartbreak people neither could nor would do anything of the sort. + With their heads as full of the Anticipations of Mr H. G. Wells as the + heads of our actual rulers were empty even of the anticipations of Erasmus + or Sir Thomas More, they refused the drudgery of politics, and would have + made a very poor job of it if they had changed their minds. Not that they + would have been allowed to meddle anyhow, as only through the accident of + being a hereditary peer can anyone in these days of Votes for Everybody + get into parliament if handicapped by a serious modern cultural equipment; + but if they had, their habit of living in a vacuum would have left them + helpless end ineffective in public affairs. Even in private life they were + often helpless wasters of their inheritance, like the people in Tchekov's + Cherry Orchard. Even those who lived within their incomes were really kept + going by their solicitors and agents, being unable to manage an estate or + run a business without continual prompting from those who have to learn + how to do such things or starve. + </p> + <p> + From what is called Democracy no corrective to this state of things could + be hoped. It is said that every people has the Government it deserves. It + is more to the point that every Government has the electorate it deserves; + for the orators of the front bench can edify or debauch an ignorant + electorate at will. Thus our democracy moves in a vicious circle of + reciprocal worthiness and unworthiness. + </p> + <p> + Nature's Long Credits + </p> + <p> + Nature's way of dealing with unhealthy conditions is unfortunately not one + that compels us to conduct a solvent hygiene on a cash basis. She + demoralizes us with long credits and reckless overdrafts, and then pulls + us up cruelly with catastrophic bankruptcies. Take, for example, common + domestic sanitation. A whole city generation may neglect it utterly and + scandalously, if not with absolute impunity, yet without any evil + consequences that anyone thinks of tracing to it. In a hospital two + generations of medical students way tolerate dirt and carelessness, and + then go out into general practice to spread the doctrine that fresh air is + a fad, and sanitation an imposture set up to make profits for plumbers. + Then suddenly Nature takes her revenge. She strikes at the city with a + pestilence and at the hospital with an epidemic of hospital gangrene, + slaughtering right and left until the innocent young have paid for the + guilty old, and the account is balanced. And then she goes to sleep again + and gives another period of credit, with the same result. + </p> + <p> + This is what has just happened in our political hygiene. Political science + has been as recklessly neglected by Governments and electorates during my + lifetime as sanitary science was in the days of Charles the Second. In + international relations diplomacy has been a boyishly lawless affair of + family intrigues, commercial and territorial brigandage, torpors of + pseudo-goodnature produced by laziness and spasms of ferocious activity + produced by terror. But in these islands we muddled through. Nature gave + us a longer credit than she gave to France or Germany or Russia. To + British centenarians who died in their beds in 1914, any dread of having + to hide underground in London from the shells of an enemy seemed more + remote and fantastic than a dread of the appearance of a colony of cobras + and rattlesnakes in Kensington Gardens. In the prophetic works of Charles + Dickens we were warned against many evils which have since come to pass; + but of the evil of being slaughtered by a foreign foe on our own doorsteps + there was no shadow. Nature gave us a very long credit; and we abused it + to the utmost. But when she struck at last she struck with a vengeance. + For four years she smote our firstborn and heaped on us plagues of which + Egypt never dreamed. They were all as preventable as the great Plague of + London, and came solely because they had not been prevented. They were not + undone by winning the war. The earth is still bursting with the dead + bodies of the victors. + </p> + <p> + The Wicked Half Century + </p> + <p> + It is difficult to say whether indifference and neglect are worse than + false doctrine; but Heartbreak House and Horseback Hall unfortunately + suffered from both. For half a century before the war civilization had + been going to the devil very precipitately under the influence of a + pseudo-science as disastrous as the blackest Calvinism. Calvinism taught + that as we are predestinately saved or damned, nothing that we can do can + alter our destiny. Still, as Calvinism gave the individual no clue as to + whether he had drawn a lucky number or an unlucky one, it left him a + fairly strong interest in encouraging his hopes of salvation and allaying + his fear of damnation by behaving as one of the elect might be expected to + behave rather than as one of the reprobate. But in the middle of the + nineteenth century naturalists and physicists assured the world, in the + name of Science, that salvation and damnation are all nonsense, and that + predestination is the central truth of religion, inasmuch as human beings + are produced by their environment, their sins and good deeds being only a + series of chemical and mechanical reactions over which they have no + control. Such figments as mind, choice, purpose, conscience, will, and so + forth, are, they taught, mere illusions, produced because they are useful + in the continual struggle of the human machine to maintain its environment + in a favorable condition, a process incidentally involving the ruthless + destruction or subjection of its competitors for the supply (assumed to be + limited) of subsistence available. We taught Prussia this religion; and + Prussia bettered our instruction so effectively that we presently found + ourselves confronted with the necessity of destroying Prussia to prevent + Prussia destroying us. And that has just ended in each destroying the + other to an extent doubtfully reparable in our time. + </p> + <p> + It may be asked how so imbecile and dangerous a creed ever came to be + accepted by intelligent beings. I will answer that question more fully in + my next volume of plays, which will be entirely devoted to the subject. + For the present I will only say that there were better reasons than the + obvious one that such sham science as this opened a scientific career to + very stupid men, and all the other careers to shameless rascals, provided + they were industrious enough. It is true that this motive operated very + powerfully; but when the new departure in scientific doctrine which is + associated with the name of the great naturalist Charles Darwin began, it + was not only a reaction against a barbarous pseudo-evangelical teleology + intolerably obstructive to all scientific progress, but was accompanied, + as it happened, by discoveries of extraordinary interest in physics, + chemistry, and that lifeless method of evolution which its investigators + called Natural Selection. Howbeit, there was only one result possible in + the ethical sphere, and that was the banishment of conscience from human + affairs, or, as Samuel Butler vehemently put it, "of mind from the + universe." + </p> + <p> + Hypochondria + </p> + <p> + Now Heartbreak House, with Butler and Bergson and Scott Haldane alongside + Blake and the other major poets on its shelves (to say nothing of Wagner + and the tone poets), was not so completely blinded by the doltish + materialism of the laboratories as the uncultured world outside. But being + an idle house it was a hypochondriacal house, always running after cures. + It would stop eating meat, not on valid Shelleyan grounds, but in order to + get rid of a bogey called Uric Acid; and it would actually let you pull + all its teeth out to exorcise another demon named Pyorrhea. It was + superstitious, and addicted to table-rapping, materialization seances, + clairvoyance, palmistry, crystal-gazing and the like to such an extent + that it may be doubted whether ever before in the history of the world did + soothsayers, astrologers, and unregistered therapeutic specialists of all + sorts flourish as they did during this half century of the drift to the + abyss. The registered doctors and surgeons were hard put to it to compete + with the unregistered. They were not clever enough to appeal to the + imagination and sociability of the Heartbreakers by the arts of the actor, + the orator, the poet, the winning conversationalist. They had to fall back + coarsely on the terror of infection and death. They prescribed + inoculations and operations. Whatever part of a human being could be cut + out without necessarily killing him they cut out; and he often died + (unnecessarily of course) in consequence. From such trifles as uvulas and + tonsils they went on to ovaries and appendices until at last no one's + inside was safe. They explained that the human intestine was too long, and + that nothing could make a child of Adam healthy except short circuiting + the pylorus by cutting a length out of the lower intestine and fastening + it directly to the stomach. As their mechanist theory taught them that + medicine was the business of the chemist's laboratory, and surgery of the + carpenter's shop, and also that Science (by which they meant their + practices) was so important that no consideration for the interests of any + individual creature, whether frog or philosopher, much less the vulgar + commonplaces of sentimental ethics, could weigh for a moment against the + remotest off-chance of an addition to the body of scientific knowledge, + they operated and vivisected and inoculated and lied on a stupendous + scale, clamoring for and actually acquiring such legal powers over the + bodies of their fellow-citizens as neither king, pope, nor parliament dare + ever have claimed. The Inquisition itself was a Liberal institution + compared to the General Medical Council. + </p> + <p> + Those who do not know how to live must make a Merit of Dying + </p> + <p> + Heartbreak House was far too lazy and shallow to extricate itself from + this palace of evil enchantment. It rhapsodized about love; but it + believed in cruelty. It was afraid of the cruel people; and it saw that + cruelty was at least effective. Cruelty did things that made money, + whereas Love did nothing but prove the soundness of Larochefoucauld's + saying that very few people would fall in love if they had never read + about it. Heartbreak House, in short, did not know how to live, at which + point all that was left to it was the boast that at least it knew how to + die: a melancholy accomplishment which the outbreak of war presently gave + it practically unlimited opportunities of displaying. Thus were the + firstborn of Heartbreak House smitten; and the young, the innocent, the + hopeful, expiated the folly and worthlessness of their elders. + </p> + <p> + War Delirium + </p> + <p> + Only those who have lived through a first-rate war, not in the field, but + at home, and kept their heads, can possibly understand the bitterness of + Shakespeare and Swift, who both went through this experience. The horror + of Peer Gynt in the madhouse, when the lunatics, exalted by illusions of + splendid talent and visions of a dawning millennium, crowned him as their + emperor, was tame in comparison. I do not know whether anyone really kept + his head completely except those who had to keep it because they had to + conduct the war at first hand. I should not have kept my own (as far as I + did keep it) if I had not at once understood that as a scribe and speaker + I too was under the most serious public obligation to keep my grip on + realities; but this did not save me from a considerable degree of + hyperaesthesia. There were of course some happy people to whom the war + meant nothing: all political and general matters lying outside their + little circle of interest. But the ordinary war-conscious civilian went + mad, the main symptom being a conviction that the whole order of nature + had been reversed. All foods, he felt, must now be adulterated. All + schools must be closed. No advertisements must be sent to the newspapers, + of which new editions must appear and be bought up every ten minutes. + Travelling must be stopped, or, that being impossible, greatly hindered. + All pretences about fine art and culture and the like must be flung off as + an intolerable affectation; and the picture galleries and museums and + schools at once occupied by war workers. The British Museum itself was + saved only by a hair's breadth. The sincerity of all this, and of much + more which would not be believed if I chronicled it, may be established by + one conclusive instance of the general craziness. Men were seized with the + illusion that they could win the war by giving away money. And they not + only subscribed millions to Funds of all sorts with no discoverable + object, and to ridiculous voluntary organizations for doing what was + plainly the business of the civil and military authorities, but actually + handed out money to any thief in the street who had the presence of mind + to pretend that he (or she) was "collecting" it for the annihilation of + the enemy. Swindlers were emboldened to take offices; label themselves + Anti-Enemy Leagues; and simply pocket the money that was heaped on them. + Attractively dressed young women found that they had nothing to do but + parade the streets, collecting-box in hand, and live gloriously on the + profits. Many months elapsed before, as a first sign of returning sanity, + the police swept an Anti-Enemy secretary into prison pour encourages les + autres, and the passionate penny collecting of the Flag Days was brought + under some sort of regulation. + </p> + <p> + Madness in Court + </p> + <p> + The demoralization did not spare the Law Courts. Soldiers were acquitted, + even on fully proved indictments for wilful murder, until at last the + judges and magistrates had to announce that what was called the Unwritten + Law, which meant simply that a soldier could do what he liked with + impunity in civil life, was not the law of the land, and that a Victoria + Cross did not carry with it a perpetual plenary indulgence. Unfortunately + the insanity of the juries and magistrates did not always manifest itself + in indulgence. No person unlucky enough to be charged with any sort of + conduct, however reasonable and salutary, that did not smack of war + delirium, had the slightest chance of acquittal. There were in the + country, too, a certain number of people who had conscientious objections + to war as criminal or unchristian. The Act of Parliament introducing + Compulsory Military Service thoughtlessly exempted these persons, merely + requiring them to prove the genuineness of their convictions. Those who + did so were very ill-advised from the point of view of their own personal + interest; for they were persecuted with savage logicality in spite of the + law; whilst those who made no pretence of having any objection to war at + all, and had not only had military training in Officers' Training Corps, + but had proclaimed on public occasions that they were perfectly ready to + engage in civil war on behalf of their political opinions, were allowed + the benefit of the Act on the ground that they did not approve of this + particular war. For the Christians there was no mercy. In cases where the + evidence as to their being killed by ill treatment was so unequivocal that + the verdict would certainly have been one of wilful murder had the + prejudice of the coroner's jury been on the other side, their tormentors + were gratuitously declared to be blameless. There was only one virtue, + pugnacity: only one vice, pacifism. That is an essential condition of war; + but the Government had not the courage to legislate accordingly; and its + law was set aside for Lynch law. + </p> + <p> + The climax of legal lawlessness was reached in France. The greatest + Socialist statesman in Europe, Jaures, was shot and killed by a gentleman + who resented his efforts to avert the war. M. Clemenceau was shot by + another gentleman of less popular opinions, and happily came off no worse + than having to spend a precautionary couple of days in bed. The slayer of + Jaures was recklessly acquitted: the would-be slayer of M. Clemenceau was + carefully found guilty. There is no reason to doubt that the same thing + would have happened in England if the war had begun with a successful + attempt to assassinate Keir Hardie, and ended with an unsuccessful one to + assassinate Mr Lloyd George. + </p> + <p> + The Long Arm of War + </p> + <p> + The pestilence which is the usual accompaniment of war was called + influenza. Whether it was really a war pestilence or not was made doubtful + by the fact that it did its worst in places remote from the battlefields, + notably on the west coast of North America and in India. But the moral + pestilence, which was unquestionably a war pestilence, reproduced this + phenomenon. One would have supposed that the war fever would have raged + most furiously in the countries actually under fire, and that the others + would be more reasonable. Belgium and Flanders, where over large districts + literally not one stone was left upon another as the opposed armies drove + each other back and forward over it after terrific preliminary + bombardments, might have been pardoned for relieving their feelings more + emphatically than by shrugging their shoulders and saying, "C'est la + guerre." England, inviolate for so many centuries that the swoop of war on + her homesteads had long ceased to be more credible than a return of the + Flood, could hardly be expected to keep her temper sweet when she knew at + last what it was to hide in cellars and underground railway stations, or + lie quaking in bed, whilst bombs crashed, houses crumbled, and aircraft + guns distributed shrapnel on friend and foe alike until certain shop + windows in London, formerly full of fashionable hats, were filled with + steel helmets. Slain and mutilated women and children, and burnt and + wrecked dwellings, excuse a good deal of violent language, and produce a + wrath on which many suns go down before it is appeased. Yet it was in the + United States of America where nobody slept the worse for the war, that + the war fever went beyond all sense and reason. In European Courts there + was vindictive illegality: in American Courts there was raving lunacy. It + is not for me to chronicle the extravagances of an Ally: let some candid + American do that. I can only say that to us sitting in our gardens in + England, with the guns in France making themselves felt by a throb in the + air as unmistakeable as an audible sound, or with tightening hearts + studying the phases of the moon in London in their bearing on the chances + whether our houses would be standing or ourselves alive next morning, the + newspaper accounts of the sentences American Courts were passing on young + girls and old men alike for the expression of opinions which were being + uttered amid thundering applause before huge audiences in England, and the + more private records of the methods by which the American War Loans were + raised, were so amazing that they put the guns and the possibilities of a + raid clean out of our heads for the moment. + </p> + <p> + The Rabid Watchdogs of Liberty + </p> + <p> + Not content with these rancorous abuses of the existing law, the war + maniacs made a frantic rush to abolish all constitutional guarantees of + liberty and well-being. The ordinary law was superseded by Acts under + which newspapers were seized and their printing machinery destroyed by + simple police raids a la Russe, and persons arrested and shot without any + pretence of trial by jury or publicity of procedure or evidence. Though it + was urgently necessary that production should be increased by the most + scientific organization and economy of labor, and though no fact was + better established than that excessive duration and intensity of toil + reduces production heavily instead of increasing it, the factory laws were + suspended, and men and women recklessly over-worked until the loss of + their efficiency became too glaring to be ignored. Remonstrances and + warnings were met either with an accusation of pro-Germanism or the + formula, "Remember that we are at war now." I have said that men assumed + that war had reversed the order of nature, and that all was lost unless we + did the exact opposite of everything we had found necessary and beneficial + in peace. But the truth was worse than that. The war did not change men's + minds in any such impossible way. What really happened was that the impact + of physical death and destruction, the one reality that every fool can + understand, tore off the masks of education, art, science and religion + from our ignorance and barbarism, and left us glorying grotesquely in the + licence suddenly accorded to our vilest passions and most abject terrors. + Ever since Thucydides wrote his history, it has been on record that when + the angel of death sounds his trumpet the pretences of civilization are + blown from men's heads into the mud like hats in a gust of wind. But when + this scripture was fulfilled among us, the shock was not the less + appalling because a few students of Greek history were not surprised by + it. Indeed these students threw themselves into the orgy as shamelessly as + the illiterate. The Christian priest, joining in the war dance without + even throwing off his cassock first, and the respectable school governor + expelling the German professor with insult and bodily violence, and + declaring that no English child should ever again be taught the language + of Luther and Goethe, were kept in countenance by the most impudent + repudiations of every decency of civilization and every lesson of + political experience on the part of the very persons who, as university + professors, historians, philosophers, and men of science, were the + accredited custodians of culture. It was crudely natural, and perhaps + necessary for recruiting purposes, that German militarism and German + dynastic ambition should be painted by journalists and recruiters in black + and red as European dangers (as in fact they are), leaving it to be + inferred that our own militarism and our own political constitution are + millennially democratic (which they certainly are not); but when it came + to frantic denunciations of German chemistry, German biology, German + poetry, German music, German literature, German philosophy, and even + German engineering, as malignant abominations standing towards British and + French chemistry and so forth in the relation of heaven to hell, it was + clear that the utterers of such barbarous ravings had never really + understood or cared for the arts and sciences they professed and were + profaning, and were only the appallingly degenerate descendants of the men + of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries who, recognizing no national + frontiers in the great realm of the human mind, kept the European comity + of that realm loftily and even ostentatiously above the rancors of the + battle-field. Tearing the Garter from the Kaiser's leg, striking the + German dukes from the roll of our peerage, changing the King's illustrious + and historically appropriate surname (for the war was the old war of + Guelph against Ghibelline, with the Kaiser as Arch-Ghibelline) to that of + a traditionless locality. One felt that the figure of St. George and the + Dragon on our coinage should be replaced by that of the soldier driving + his spear through Archimedes. But by that time there was no coinage: only + paper money in which ten shillings called itself a pound as confidently as + the people who were disgracing their country called themselves patriots. + </p> + <p> + The Sufferings of the Sane + </p> + <p> + The mental distress of living amid the obscene din of all these + carmagnoles and corobberies was not the only burden that lay on sane + people during the war. There was also the emotional strain, complicated by + the offended economic sense, produced by the casualty lists. The stupid, + the selfish, the narrow-minded, the callous and unimaginative were spared + a great deal. "Blood and destruction shall be so in use that mothers shall + but smile when they behold their infantes quartered by the hands of war," + was a Shakespearean prophecy that very nearly came true; for when nearly + every house had a slaughtered son to mourn, we should all have gone quite + out of our senses if we had taken our own and our friend's bereavements at + their peace value. It became necessary to give them a false value; to + proclaim the young life worthily and gloriously sacrificed to redeem the + liberty of mankind, instead of to expiate the heedlessness and folly of + their fathers, and expiate it in vain. We had even to assume that the + parents and not the children had made the sacrifice, until at last the + comic papers were driven to satirize fat old men, sitting comfortably in + club chairs, and boasting of the sons they had "given" to their country. + </p> + <p> + No one grudged these anodynes to acute personal grief; but they only + embittered those who knew that the young men were having their teeth set + on edge because their parents had eaten sour political grapes. Then think + of the young men themselves! Many of them had no illusions about the + policy that led to the war: they went clear-sighted to a horribly + repugnant duty. Men essentially gentle and essentially wise, with really + valuable work in hand, laid it down voluntarily and spent months forming + fours in the barrack yard, and stabbing sacks of straw in the public eye, + so that they might go out to kill and maim men as gentle as themselves. + These men, who were perhaps, as a class, our most efficient soldiers + (Frederick Keeling, for example), were not duped for a moment by the + hypocritical melodrama that consoled and stimulated the others. They left + their creative work to drudge at destruction, exactly as they would have + left it to take their turn at the pumps in a sinking ship. They did not, + like some of the conscientious objectors, hold back because the ship had + been neglected by its officers and scuttled by its wreckers. The ship had + to be saved, even if Newton had to leave his fluxions and Michael Angelo + his marbles to save it; so they threw away the tools of their beneficent + and ennobling trades, and took up the blood-stained bayonet and the + murderous bomb, forcing themselves to pervert their divine instinct for + perfect artistic execution to the effective handling of these diabolical + things, and their economic faculty for organization to the contriving of + ruin and slaughter. For it gave an ironic edge to their tragedy that the + very talents they were forced to prostitute made the prostitution not only + effective, but even interesting; so that some of them were rapidly + promoted, and found themselves actually becoming artists in wax, with a + growing relish for it, like Napoleon and all the other scourges of + mankind, in spite of themselves. For many of them there was not even this + consolation. They "stuck it," and hated it, to the end. + </p> + <p> + Evil in the Throne of Good + </p> + <p> + This distress of the gentle was so acute that those who shared it in civil + life, without having to shed blood with their own hands, or witness + destruction with their own eyes, hardly care to obtrude their own woes. + Nevertheless, even when sitting at home in safety, it was not easy for + those who had to write and speak about the war to throw away their highest + conscience, and deliberately work to a standard of inevitable evil instead + of to the ideal of life more abundant. I can answer for at least one + person who found the change from the wisdom of Jesus and St. Francis to + the morals of Richard III and the madness of Don Quixote extremely + irksome. But that change had to be made; and we are all the worse for it, + except those for whom it was not really a change at all, but only a relief + from hypocrisy. + </p> + <p> + Think, too, of those who, though they had neither to write nor to fight, + and had no children of their own to lose, yet knew the inestimable loss to + the world of four years of the life of a generation wasted on destruction. + Hardly one of the epoch-making works of the human mind might not have been + aborted or destroyed by taking their authors away from their natural work + for four critical years. Not only were Shakespeares and Platos being + killed outright; but many of the best harvests of the survivors had to be + sown in the barren soil of the trenches. And this was no mere British + consideration. To the truly civilized man, to the good European, the + slaughter of the German youth was as disastrous as the slaughter of the + English. Fools exulted in "German losses." They were our losses as well. + Imagine exulting in the death of Beethoven because Bill Sykes dealt him + his death blow! + </p> + <p> + Straining at the Gnat and swallowing the Camel + </p> + <p> + But most people could not comprehend these sorrows. There was a frivolous + exultation in death for its own sake, which was at bottom an inability to + realize that the deaths were real deaths and not stage ones. Again and + again, when an air raider dropped a bomb which tore a child and its mother + limb from limb, the people who saw it, though they had been reading with + great cheerfulness of thousands of such happenings day after day in their + newspapers, suddenly burst into furious imprecations on "the Huns" as + murderers, and shrieked for savage and satisfying vengeance. At such + moments it became clear that the deaths they had not seen meant no more to + them than the mimic death of the cinema screen. Sometimes it was not + necessary that death should be actually witnessed: it had only to take + place under circumstances of sufficient novelty and proximity to bring it + home almost as sensationally and effectively as if it had been actually + visible. + </p> + <p> + For example, in the spring of 1915 there was an appalling slaughter of our + young soldiers at Neuve Chapelle and at the Gallipoli landing. I will not + go so far as to say that our civilians were delighted to have such + exciting news to read at breakfast. But I cannot pretend that I noticed + either in the papers, or in general intercourse, any feeling beyond the + usual one that the cinema show at the front was going splendidly, and that + our boys were the bravest of the brave. Suddenly there came the news that + an Atlantic liner, the Lusitania, had been torpedoed, and that several + well-known first-class passengers, including a famous theatrical manager + and the author of a popular farce, had been drowned, among others. The + others included Sir Hugh Lane; but as he had only laid the country under + great obligations in the sphere of the fine arts, no great stress was laid + on that loss. Immediately an amazing frenzy swept through the country. Men + who up to that time had kept their heads now lost them utterly. "Killing + saloon passengers! What next?" was the essence of the whole agitation; but + it is far too trivial a phrase to convey the faintest notion of the rage + which possessed us. To me, with my mind full of the hideous cost of Neuve + Chapelle, Ypres, and the Gallipoli landing, the fuss about the Lusitania + seemed almost a heartless impertinence, though I was well acquainted + personally with the three best-known victims, and understood, better + perhaps than most people, the misfortune of the death of Lane. I even + found a grim satisfaction, very intelligible to all soldiers, in the fact + that the civilians who found the war such splendid British sport should + get a sharp taste of what it was to the actual combatants. I expressed my + impatience very freely, and found that my very straightforward and natural + feeling in the matter was received as a monstrous and heartless paradox. + When I asked those who gaped at me whether they had anything to say about + the holocaust of Festubert, they gaped wider than before, having totally + forgotten it, or rather, having never realized it. They were not heartless + anymore than I was; but the big catastrophe was too big for them to grasp, + and the little one had been just the right size for them. I was not + surprised. Have I not seen a public body for just the same reason pass a + vote for £30,000 without a word, and then spend three special meetings, + prolonged into the night, over an item of seven shillings for + refreshments? + </p> + <p> + Little Minds and Big Battles + </p> + <p> + Nobody will be able to understand the vagaries of public feeling during + the war unless they bear constantly in mind that the war in its entire + magnitude did not exist for the average civilian. He could not conceive + even a battle, much less a campaign. To the suburbs the war was nothing + but a suburban squabble. To the miner and navvy it was only a series of + bayonet fights between German champions and English ones. The enormity of + it was quite beyond most of us. Its episodes had to be reduced to the + dimensions of a railway accident or a shipwreck before it could produce + any effect on our minds at all. To us the ridiculous bombardments of + Scarborough and Ramsgate were colossal tragedies, and the battle of + Jutland a mere ballad. The words "after thorough artillery preparation" in + the news from the front meant nothing to us; but when our seaside trippers + learned that an elderly gentleman at breakfast in a week-end marine hotel + had been interrupted by a bomb dropping into his egg-cup, their wrath and + horror knew no bounds. They declared that this would put a new spirit into + the army; and had no suspicion that the soldiers in the trenches roared + with laughter over it for days, and told each other that it would do the + blighters at home good to have a taste of what the army was up against. + Sometimes the smallness of view was pathetic. A man would work at home + regardless of the call "to make the world safe for democracy." His brother + would be killed at the front. Immediately he would throw up his work and + take up the war as a family blood feud against the Germans. Sometimes it + was comic. A wounded man, entitled to his discharge, would return to the + trenches with a grim determination to find the Hun who had wounded him and + pay him out for it. + </p> + <p> + It is impossible to estimate what proportion of us, in khaki or out of it, + grasped the war and its political antecedents as a whole in the light of + any philosophy of history or knowledge of what war is. I doubt whether it + was as high as our proportion of higher mathematicians. But there can be + no doubt that it was prodigiously outnumbered by the comparatively + ignorant and childish. Remember that these people had to be stimulated to + make the sacrifices demanded by the war, and that this could not be done + by appeals to a knowledge which they did not possess, and a comprehension + of which they were incapable. When the armistice at last set me free to + tell the truth about the war at the following general election, a soldier + said to a candidate whom I was supporting, "If I had known all that in + 1914, they would never have got me into khaki." And that, of course, was + precisely why it had been necessary to stuff him with a romance that any + diplomatist would have laughed at. Thus the natural confusion of ignorance + was increased by a deliberately propagated confusion of nursery bogey + stories and melodramatic nonsense, which at last overreached itself and + made it impossible to stop the war before we had not only achieved the + triumph of vanquishing the German army and thereby overthrowing its + militarist monarchy, but made the very serious mistake of ruining the + centre of Europe, a thing that no sane European State could afford to do. + </p> + <p> + The Dumb Capables and the Noisy Incapables + </p> + <p> + Confronted with this picture of insensate delusion and folly, the critical + reader will immediately counterplead that England all this time was + conducting a war which involved the organization of several millions of + fighting men and of the workers who were supplying them with provisions, + munitions, and transport, and that this could not have been done by a mob + of hysterical ranters. This is fortunately true. To pass from the + newspaper offices and political platforms and club fenders and suburban + drawing-rooms to the Army and the munition factories was to pass from + Bedlam to the busiest and sanest of workaday worlds. It was to rediscover + England, and find solid ground for the faith of those who still believed + in her. But a necessary condition of this efficiency was that those who + were efficient should give all their time to their business and leave the + rabble raving to its heart's content. Indeed the raving was useful to the + efficient, because, as it was always wide of the mark, it often distracted + attention very conveniently from operations that would have been defeated + or hindered by publicity. A precept which I endeavored vainly to + popularize early in the war, "If you have anything to do go and do it: if + not, for heaven's sake get out of the way," was only half carried out. + Certainly the capable people went and did it; but the incapables would by + no means get out of the way: they fussed and bawled and were only + prevented from getting very seriously into the way by the blessed fact + that they never knew where the way was. Thus whilst all the efficiency of + England was silent and invisible, all its imbecility was deafening the + heavens with its clamor and blotting out the sun with its dust. It was + also unfortunately intimidating the Government by its blusterings into + using the irresistible powers of the State to intimidate the sensible + people, thus enabling a despicable minority of would-be lynchers to set up + a reign of terror which could at any time have been broken by a single + stern word from a responsible minister. But our ministers had not that + sort of courage: neither Heartbreak House nor Horseback Hall had bred it, + much less the suburbs. When matters at last came to the looting of shops + by criminals under patriotic pretexts, it was the police force and not the + Government that put its foot down. There was even one deplorable moment, + during the submarine scare, in which the Government yielded to a childish + cry for the maltreatment of naval prisoners of war, and, to our great + disgrace, was forced by the enemy to behave itself. And yet behind all + this public blundering and misconduct and futile mischief, the effective + England was carrying on with the most formidable capacity and activity. + The ostensible England was making the empire sick with its incontinences, + its ignorances, its ferocities, its panics, and its endless and + intolerable blarings of Allied national anthems in season and out. The + esoteric England was proceeding irresistibly to the conquest of Europe. + </p> + <p> + The Practical Business Men + </p> + <p> + From the beginning the useless people set up a shriek for "practical + business men." By this they meant men who had become rich by placing their + personal interests before those of the country, and measuring the success + of every activity by the pecuniary profit it brought to them and to those + on whom they depended for their supplies of capital. The pitiable failure + of some conspicuous samples from the first batch we tried of these poor + devils helped to give the whole public side of the war an air of monstrous + and hopeless farce. They proved not only that they were useless for public + work, but that in a well-ordered nation they would never have been allowed + to control private enterprise. + </p> + <p> + How the Fools shouted the Wise Men down + </p> + <p> + Thus, like a fertile country flooded with mud, England showed no sign of + her greatness in the days when she was putting forth all her strength to + save herself from the worst consequences of her littleness. Most of the + men of action, occupied to the last hour of their time with urgent + practical work, had to leave to idler people, or to professional + rhetoricians, the presentation of the war to the reason and imagination of + the country and the world in speeches, poems, manifestoes, picture + posters, and newspaper articles. I have had the privilege of hearing some + of our ablest commanders talking about their work; and I have shared the + common lot of reading the accounts of that work given to the world by the + newspapers. No two experiences could be more different. But in the end the + talkers obtained a dangerous ascendancy over the rank and file of the men + of action; for though the great men of action are always inveterate + talkers and often very clever writers, and therefore cannot have their + minds formed for them by others, the average man of action, like the + average fighter with the bayonet, can give no account of himself in words + even to himself, and is apt to pick up and accept what he reads about + himself and other people in the papers, except when the writer is rash + enough to commit himself on technical points. It was not uncommon during + the war to hear a soldier, or a civilian engaged on war work, describing + events within his own experience that reduced to utter absurdity the + ravings and maunderings of his daily paper, and yet echo the opinions of + that paper like a parrot. Thus, to escape from the prevailing confusion + and folly, it was not enough to seek the company of the ordinary man of + action: one had to get into contact with the master spirits. This was a + privilege which only a handful of people could enjoy. For the unprivileged + citizen there was no escape. To him the whole country seemed mad, futile, + silly, incompetent, with no hope of victory except the hope that the enemy + might be just as mad. Only by very resolute reflection and reasoning could + he reassure himself that if there was nothing more solid beneath their + appalling appearances the war could not possibly have gone on for a single + day without a total breakdown of its organization. + </p> + <p> + The Mad Election + </p> + <p> + Happy were the fools and the thoughtless men of action in those days. The + worst of it was that the fools were very strongly represented in + parliament, as fools not only elect fools, but can persuade men of action + to elect them too. The election that immediately followed the armistice + was perhaps the maddest that has ever taken place. Soldiers who had done + voluntary and heroic service in the field were defeated by persons who had + apparently never run a risk or spent a farthing that they could avoid, and + who even had in the course of the election to apologize publicly for + bawling Pacifist or Pro-German at their opponent. Party leaders seek such + followers, who can always be depended on to walk tamely into the lobby at + the party whip's orders, provided the leader will make their seats safe + for them by the process which was called, in derisive reference to the war + rationing system, "giving them the coupon." Other incidents were so + grotesque that I cannot mention them without enabling the reader to + identify the parties, which would not be fair, as they were no more to + blame than thousands of others who must necessarily be nameless. The + general result was patently absurd; and the electorate, disgusted at its + own work, instantly recoiled to the opposite extreme, and cast out all the + coupon candidates at the earliest bye-elections by equally silly + majorities. But the mischief of the general election could not be undone; + and the Government had not only to pretend to abuse its European victory + as it had promised, but actually to do it by starving the enemies who had + thrown down their arms. It had, in short, won the election by pledging + itself to be thriftlessly wicked, cruel, and vindictive; and it did not + find it as easy to escape from this pledge as it had from nobler ones. The + end, as I write, is not yet; but it is clear that this thoughtless + savagery will recoil on the heads of the Allies so severely that we shall + be forced by the sternest necessity to take up our share of healing the + Europe we have wounded almost to death instead of attempting to complete + her destruction. + </p> + <p> + The Yahoo and the Angry Ape + </p> + <p> + Contemplating this picture of a state of mankind so recent that no denial + of its truth is possible, one understands Shakespeare comparing Man to an + angry ape, Swift describing him as a Yahoo rebuked by the superior virtue + of the horse, and Wellington declaring that the British can behave + themselves neither in victory nor defeat. Yet none of the three had seen + war as we have seen it. Shakespeare blamed great men, saying that "Could + great men thunder as Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet; for + every pelting petty officer would use his heaven for thunder: nothing but + thunder." What would Shakespeare have said if he had seen something far + more destructive than thunder in the hand of every village laborer, and + found on the Messines Ridge the craters of the nineteen volcanoes that + were let loose there at the touch of a finger that might have been a + child's finger without the result being a whit less ruinous? Shakespeare + may have seen a Stratford cottage struck by one of Jove's thunderbolts, + and have helped to extinguish the lighted thatch and clear away the bits + of the broken chimney. What would he have said if he had seen Ypres as it + is now, or returned to Stratford, as French peasants are returning to + their homes to-day, to find the old familiar signpost inscribed "To + Stratford, 1 mile," and at the end of the mile nothing but some holes in + the ground and a fragment of a broken churn here and there? Would not the + spectacle of the angry ape endowed with powers of destruction that Jove + never pretended to, have beggared even his command of words? + </p> + <p> + And yet, what is there to say except that war puts a strain on human + nature that breaks down the better half of it, and makes the worse half a + diabolical virtue? Better, for us if it broke it down altogether, for then + the warlike way out of our difficulties would be barred to us, and we + should take greater care not to get into them. In truth, it is, as Byron + said, "not difficult to die," and enormously difficult to live: that + explains why, at bottom, peace is not only better than war, but infinitely + more arduous. Did any hero of the war face the glorious risk of death more + bravely than the traitor Bolo faced the ignominious certainty of it? Bolo + taught us all how to die: can we say that he taught us all how to live? + Hardly a week passes now without some soldier who braved death in the + field so recklessly that he was decorated or specially commended for it, + being haled before our magistrates for having failed to resist the + paltriest temptations of peace, with no better excuse than the old one + that "a man must live." Strange that one who, sooner than do honest work, + will sell his honor for a bottle of wine, a visit to the theatre, and an + hour with a strange woman, all obtained by passing a worthless cheque, + could yet stake his life on the most desperate chances of the + battle-field! Does it not seem as if, after all, the glory of death were + cheaper than the glory of life? If it is not easier to attain, why do so + many more men attain it? At all events it is clear that the kingdom of the + Prince of Peace has not yet become the kingdom of this world. His attempts + at invasion have been resisted far more fiercely than the Kaiser's. + Successful as that resistance has been, it has piled up a sort of National + Debt that is not the less oppressive because we have no figures for it and + do not intend to pay it. A blockade that cuts off "the grace of our Lord" + is in the long run less bearable than the blockades which merely cut off + raw materials; and against that blockade our Armada is impotent. In the + blockader's house, he has assured us, there are many mansions; but I am + afraid they do not include either Heartbreak House or Horseback Hall. + </p> + <p> + Plague on Both your Houses! + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the Bolshevist picks and petards are at work on the foundations + of both buildings; and though the Bolshevists may be buried in the ruins, + their deaths will not save the edifices. Unfortunately they can be built + again. Like Doubting Castle, they have been demolished many times by + successive Greathearts, and rebuilt by Simple, Sloth, and Presumption, by + Feeble Mind and Much Afraid, and by all the jurymen of Vanity Fair. + Another generation of "secondary education" at our ancient public schools + and the cheaper institutions that ape them will be quite sufficient to + keep the two going until the next war. For the instruction of that + generation I leave these pages as a record of what civilian life was + during the war: a matter on which history is usually silent. Fortunately + it was a very short war. It is true that the people who thought it could + not last more than six months were very signally refuted by the event. As + Sir Douglas Haig has pointed out, its Waterloos lasted months instead of + hours. But there would have been nothing surprising in its lasting thirty + years. If it had not been for the fact that the blockade achieved the + amazing feat of starving out Europe, which it could not possibly have done + had Europe been properly organized for war, or even for peace, the war + would have lasted until the belligerents were so tired of it that they + could no longer be compelled to compel themselves to go on with it. + Considering its magnitude, the war of 1914-18 will certainly be classed as + the shortest in history. The end came so suddenly that the combatant + literally stumbled over it; and yet it came a full year later than it + should have come if the belligerents had not been far too afraid of one + another to face the situation sensibly. Germany, having failed to provide + for the war she began, failed again to surrender before she was + dangerously exhausted. Her opponents, equally improvident, went as much + too close to bankruptcy as Germany to starvation. It was a bluff at which + both were bluffed. And, with the usual irony of war, it remains doubtful + whether Germany and Russia, the defeated, will not be the gainers; for the + victors are already busy fastening on themselves the chains they have + struck from the limbs of the vanquished. + </p> + <p> + How the Theatre fared + </p> + <p> + Let us now contract our view rather violently from the European theatre of + war to the theatre in which the fights are sham fights, and the slain, + rising the moment the curtain has fallen, go comfortably home to supper + after washing off their rose-pink wounds. It is nearly twenty years since + I was last obliged to introduce a play in the form of a book for lack of + an opportunity of presenting it in its proper mode by a performance in a + theatre. The war has thrown me back on this expedient. Heartbreak House + has not yet reached the stage. I have withheld it because the war has + completely upset the economic conditions which formerly enabled serious + drama to pay its way in London. The change is not in the theatres nor in + the management of them, nor in the authors and actors, but in the + audiences. For four years the London theatres were crowded every night + with thousands of soldiers on leave from the front. These soldiers were + not seasoned London playgoers. A childish experience of my own gave me a + clue to their condition. When I was a small boy I was taken to the opera. + I did not then know what an opera was, though I could whistle a good deal + of opera music. I had seen in my mother's album photographs of all the + great opera singers, mostly in evening dress. In the theatre I found + myself before a gilded balcony filled with persons in evening dress whom I + took to be the opera singers. I picked out one massive dark lady as + Alboni, and wondered how soon she would stand up and sing. I was puzzled + by the fact that I was made to sit with my back to the singers instead of + facing them. When the curtain went up, my astonishment and delight were + unbounded. + </p> + <p> + The Soldier at the Theatre Front + </p> + <p> + In 1915, I saw in the theatres men in khaki in just the same predicament. + To everyone who had my clue to their state of mind it was evident that + they had never been in a theatre before and did not know what it was. At + one of our great variety theatres I sat beside a young officer, not at all + a rough specimen, who, even when the curtain rose and enlightened him as + to the place where he had to look for his entertainment, found the + dramatic part of it utterly incomprehensible. He did not know how to play + his part of the game. He could understand the people on the stage singing + and dancing and performing gymnastic feats. He not only understood but + intensely enjoyed an artist who imitated cocks crowing and pigs squeaking. + But the people who pretended that they were somebody else, and that the + painted picture behind them was real, bewildered him. In his presence I + realized how very sophisticated the natural man has to become before the + conventions of the theatre can be easily acceptable, or the purpose of the + drama obvious to him. + </p> + <p> + Well, from the moment when the routine of leave for our soldiers was + established, such novices, accompanied by damsels (called flappers) often + as innocent as themselves, crowded the theatres to the doors. It was + hardly possible at first to find stuff crude enough to nurse them on. The + best music-hall comedians ransacked their memories for the oldest quips + and the most childish antics to avoid carrying the military spectators out + of their depth. I believe that this was a mistake as far as the novices + were concerned. Shakespeare, or the dramatized histories of George + Barnwell, Maria Martin, or the Demon Barber of Fleet Street, would + probably have been quite popular with them. But the novices were only a + minority after all. The cultivated soldier, who in time of peace would + look at nothing theatrical except the most advanced postIbsen plays in the + most artistic settings, found himself, to his own astonishment, thirsting + for silly jokes, dances, and brainlessly sensuous exhibitions of pretty + girls. The author of some of the most grimly serious plays of our time + told me that after enduring the trenches for months without a glimpse of + the female of his species, it gave him an entirely innocent but delightful + pleasure merely to see a flapper. The reaction from the battle-field + produced a condition of hyperaesthesia in which all the theatrical values + were altered. Trivial things gained intensity and stale things novelty. + The actor, instead of having to coax his audiences out of the boredom + which had driven them to the theatre in an ill humor to seek some sort of + distraction, had only to exploit the bliss of smiling men who were no + longer under fire and under military discipline, but actually clean and + comfortable and in a mood to be pleased with anything and everything that + a bevy of pretty girls and a funny man, or even a bevy of girls pretending + to be pretty and a man pretending to be funny, could do for them. + </p> + <p> + Then could be seen every night in the theatres oldfashioned farcical + comedies, in which a bedroom, with four doors on each side and a + practicable window in the middle, was understood to resemble exactly the + bedroom in the flats beneath and above, all three inhabited by couples + consumed with jealousy. When these people came home drunk at night; + mistook their neighbor's flats for their own; and in due course got into + the wrong beds, it was not only the novices who found the resulting + complications and scandals exquisitely ingenious and amusing, nor their + equally verdant flappers who could not help squealing in a manner that + astonished the oldest performers when the gentleman who had just come in + drunk through the window pretended to undress, and allowed glimpses of his + naked person to be descried from time to time. + </p> + <p> + Heartbreak House + </p> + <p> + Men who had just read the news that Charles Wyndham was dying, and were + thereby sadly reminded of Pink Dominos and the torrent of farcical + comedies that followed it in his heyday until every trick of that trade + had become so stale that the laughter they provoked turned to loathing: + these veterans also, when they returned from the field, were as much + pleased by what they knew to be stale and foolish as the novices by what + they thought fresh and clever. + </p> + <p> + Commerce in the Theatre + </p> + <p> + Wellington said that an army moves on its belly. So does a London theatre. + Before a man acts he must eat. Before he performs plays he must pay rent. + In London we have no theatres for the welfare of the people: they are all + for the sole purpose of producing the utmost obtainable rent for the + proprietor. If the twin flats and twin beds produce a guinea more than + Shakespeare, out goes Shakespeare and in come the twin flats and the twin + beds. If the brainless bevy of pretty girls and the funny man outbid + Mozart, out goes Mozart. + </p> + <p> + Unser Shakespeare + </p> + <p> + Before the war an effort was made to remedy this by establishing a + national theatre in celebration of the tercentenary of the death of + Shakespeare. A committee was formed; and all sorts of illustrious and + influential persons lent their names to a grand appeal to our national + culture. My play, The Dark Lady of The Sonnets, was one of the incidents + of that appeal. After some years of effort the result was a single + handsome subscription from a German gentleman. Like the celebrated swearer + in the anecdote when the cart containing all his household goods lost its + tailboard at the top of the hill and let its contents roll in ruin to the + bottom, I can only say, "I cannot do justice to this situation," and let + it pass without another word. + </p> + <p> + The Higher Drama put out of Action + </p> + <p> + The effect of the war on the London theatres may now be imagined. The beds + and the bevies drove every higher form of art out of it. Rents went up to + an unprecedented figure. At the same time prices doubled everywhere except + at the theatre pay-boxes, and raised the expenses of management to such a + degree that unless the houses were quite full every night, profit was + impossible. Even bare solvency could not be attained without a very wide + popularity. Now what had made serious drama possible to a limited extent + before the war was that a play could pay its way even if the theatre were + only half full until Saturday and three-quarters full then. A manager who + was an enthusiast and a desperately hard worker, with an occasional + grant-in-aid from an artistically disposed millionaire, and a due + proportion of those rare and happy accidents by which plays of the higher + sort turn out to be potboilers as well, could hold out for some years, by + which time a relay might arrive in the person of another enthusiast. Thus + and not otherwise occurred that remarkable revival of the British drama at + the beginning of the century which made my own career as a playwright + possible in England. In America I had already established myself, not as + part of the ordinary theatre system, but in association with the + exceptional genius of Richard Mansfield. In Germany and Austria I had no + difficulty: the system of publicly aided theatres there, Court and + Municipal, kept drama of the kind I dealt in alive; so that I was indebted + to the Emperor of Austria for magnificent productions of my works at a + time when the sole official attention paid me by the British Courts was + the announcement to the English-speaking world that certain plays of mine + were unfit for public performance, a substantial set-off against this + being that the British Court, in the course of its private playgoing, paid + no regard to the bad character given me by the chief officer of its + household. + </p> + <p> + Howbeit, the fact that my plays effected a lodgment on the London stage, + and were presently followed by the plays of Granville Barker, Gilbert + Murray, John Masefield, St. John Hankin, Lawrence Housman, Arnold Bennett, + John Galsworthy, John Drinkwater, and others which would in the nineteenth + century have stood rather less chance of production at a London theatre + than the Dialogues of Plato, not to mention revivals of the ancient + Athenian drama and a restoration to the stage of Shakespeare's plays as he + wrote them, was made economically possible solely by a supply of theatres + which could hold nearly twice as much money as it cost to rent and + maintain them. In such theatres work appealing to a relatively small class + of cultivated persons, and therefore attracting only from half to + three-quarters as many spectators as the more popular pastimes, could + nevertheless keep going in the hands of young adventurers who were doing + it for its own sake, and had not yet been forced by advancing age and + responsibilities to consider the commercial value of their time and energy + too closely. The war struck this foundation away in the manner I have just + described. The expenses of running the cheapest west-end theatres rose to + a sum which exceeded by twenty-five per cent the utmost that the higher + drama can, as an ascertained matter of fact, be depended on to draw. Thus + the higher drama, which has never really been a commercially sound + speculation, now became an impossible one. Accordingly, attempts are being + made to provide a refuge for it in suburban theatres in London and + repertory theatres in the provinces. But at the moment when the army has + at last disgorged the survivors of the gallant band of dramatic pioneers + whom it swallowed, they find that the economic conditions which formerly + made their work no worse than precarious now put it out of the question + altogether, as far as the west end of London is concerned. + </p> + <p> + Church and Theatre + </p> + <p> + I do not suppose many people care particularly. We are not brought up to + care; and a sense of the national importance of the theatre is not born in + mankind: the natural man, like so many of the soldiers at the beginning of + the war, does not know what a theatre is. But please note that all these + soldiers who did not know what a theatre was, knew what a church was. And + they had been taught to respect churches. Nobody had ever warned them + against a church as a place where frivolous women paraded in their best + clothes; where stories of improper females like Potiphar's wife, and + erotic poetry like the Song of Songs, were read aloud; where the sensuous + and sentimental music of Schubert, Mendelssohn, Gounod, and Brahms was + more popular than severe music by greater composers; where the prettiest + sort of pretty pictures of pretty saints assailed the imagination and + senses through stained-glass windows; and where sculpture and architecture + came to the help of painting. Nobody ever reminded them that these things + had sometimes produced such developments of erotic idolatry that men who + were not only enthusiastic amateurs of literature, painting, and music, + but famous practitioners of them, had actually exulted when mobs and even + regular troops under express command had mutilated church statues, smashed + church windows, wrecked church organs, and torn up the sheets from which + the church music was read and sung. When they saw broken statues in + churches, they were told that this was the work of wicked, godless + rioters, instead of, as it was, the work partly of zealots bent on driving + the world, the flesh, and the devil out of the temple, and partly of + insurgent men who had become intolerably poor because the temple had + become a den of thieves. But all the sins and perversions that were so + carefully hidden from them in the history of the Church were laid on the + shoulders of the Theatre: that stuffy, uncomfortable place of penance in + which we suffer so much inconvenience on the slenderest chance of gaining + a scrap of food for our starving souls. When the Germans bombed the + Cathedral of Rheims the world rang with the horror of the sacrilege. When + they bombed the Little Theatre in the Adelphi, and narrowly missed bombing + two writers of plays who lived within a few yards of it, the fact was not + even mentioned in the papers. In point of appeal to the senses no theatre + ever built could touch the fane at Rheims: no actress could rival its + Virgin in beauty, nor any operatic tenor look otherwise than a fool beside + its David. Its picture glass was glorious even to those who had seen the + glass of Chartres. It was wonderful in its very grotesques: who would look + at the Blondin Donkey after seeing its leviathans? In spite of the + Adam-Adelphian decoration on which Miss Kingston had lavished so much + taste and care, the Little Theatre was in comparison with Rheims the + gloomiest of little conventicles: indeed the cathedral must, from the + Puritan point of view, have debauched a million voluptuaries for every one + whom the Little Theatre had sent home thoughtful to a chaste bed after Mr + Chesterton's Magic or Brieux's Les Avaries. Perhaps that is the real + reason why the Church is lauded and the Theatre reviled. Whether or no, + the fact remains that the lady to whose public spirit and sense of the + national value of the theatre I owed the first regular public performance + of a play of mine had to conceal her action as if it had been a crime, + whereas if she had given the money to the Church she would have worn a + halo for it. And I admit, as I have always done, that this state of things + may have been a very sensible one. I have asked Londoners again and again + why they pay half a guinea to go to a theatre when they can go to St. + Paul's or Westminster Abbey for nothing. Their only possible reply is that + they want to see something new and possibly something wicked; but the + theatres mostly disappoint both hopes. If ever a revolution makes me + Dictator, I shall establish a heavy charge for admission to our churches. + But everyone who pays at the church door shall receive a ticket entitling + him or her to free admission to one performance at any theatre he or she + prefers. Thus shall the sensuous charms of the church service be made to + subsidize the sterner virtue of the drama. + </p> + <p> + The Next Phase + </p> + <p> + The present situation will not last. Although the newspaper I read at + breakfast this morning before writing these words contains a calculation + that no less than twenty-three wars are at present being waged to confirm + the peace, England is no longer in khaki; and a violent reaction is + setting in against the crude theatrical fare of the four terrible years. + Soon the rents of theatres will once more be fixed on the assumption that + they cannot always be full, nor even on the average half full week in and + week out. Prices will change. The higher drama will be at no greater + disadvantage than it was before the war; and it may benefit, first, by the + fact that many of us have been torn from the fools' paradise in which the + theatre formerly traded, and thrust upon the sternest realities and + necessities until we have lost both faith in and patience with the + theatrical pretences that had no root either in reality or necessity; + second, by the startling change made by the war in the distribution of + income. It seems only the other day that a millionaire was a man with + £50,000 a year. To-day, when he has paid his income tax and super tax, and + insured his life for the amount of his death duties, he is lucky if his + net income is 10,000 pounds though his nominal property remains the same. + And this is the result of a Budget which is called "a respite for the + rich." At the other end of the scale millions of persons have had regular + incomes for the first time in their lives; and their men have been + regularly clothed, fed, lodged, and taught to make up their minds that + certain things have to be done, also for the first time in their lives. + Hundreds of thousands of women have been taken out of their domestic cages + and tasted both discipline and independence. The thoughtless and snobbish + middle classes have been pulled up short by the very unpleasant experience + of being ruined to an unprecedented extent. We have all had a tremendous + jolt; and although the widespread notion that the shock of the war would + automatically make a new heaven and a new earth, and that the dog would + never go back to his vomit nor the sow to her wallowing in the mire, is + already seen to be a delusion, yet we are far more conscious of our + condition than we were, and far less disposed to submit to it. Revolution, + lately only a sensational chapter in history or a demagogic claptrap, is + now a possibility so imminent that hardly by trying to suppress it in + other countries by arms and defamation, and calling the process + anti-Bolshevism, can our Government stave it off at home. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the most tragic figure of the day is the American President who + was once a historian. In those days it became his task to tell us how, + after that great war in America which was more clearly than any other war + of our time a war for an idea, the conquerors, confronted with a heroic + task of reconstruction, turned recreant, and spent fifteen years in + abusing their victory under cover of pretending to accomplish the task + they were doing what they could to make impossible. Alas! Hegel was right + when he said that we learn from history that men never learn anything from + history. With what anguish of mind the President sees that we, the new + conquerors, forgetting everything we professed to fight for, are sitting + down with watering mouths to a good square meal of ten years revenge upon + and humiliation of our prostrate foe, can only be guessed by those who + know, as he does, how hopeless is remonstrance, and how happy Lincoln was + in perishing from the earth before his inspired messages became scraps of + paper. He knows well that from the Peace Conference will come, in spite of + his utmost, no edict on which he will be able, like Lincoln, to invoke + "the considerate judgment of mankind: and the gracious favor of Almighty + God." He led his people to destroy the militarism of Zabern; and the army + they rescued is busy in Cologne imprisoning every German who does not + salute a British officer; whilst the government at home, asked whether it + approves, replies that it does not propose even to discontinue this + Zabernism when the Peace is concluded, but in effect looks forward to + making Germans salute British officers until the end of the world. That is + what war makes of men and women. It will wear off; and the worst it + threatens is already proving impracticable; but before the humble and + contrite heart ceases to be despised, the President and I, being of the + same age, will be dotards. In the meantime there is, for him, another + history to write; for me, another comedy to stage. Perhaps, after all, + that is what wars are for, and what historians and playwrights are for. If + men will not learn until their lessons are written in blood, why, blood + they must have, their own for preference. + </p> + <p> + The Ephemeral Thrones and the Eternal Theatre + </p> + <p> + To the theatre it will not matter. Whatever Bastilles fall, the theatre + will stand. Apostolic Hapsburg has collapsed; All Highest Hohenzollern + languishes in Holland, threatened with trial on a capital charge of + fighting for his country against England; Imperial Romanoff, said to have + perished miserably by a more summary method of murder, is perhaps alive or + perhaps dead: nobody cares more than if he had been a peasant; the lord of + Hellas is level with his lackeys in republican Switzerland; Prime + Ministers and Commanders-in-Chief have passed from a brief glory as Solons + and Caesars into failure and obscurity as closely on one another's heels + as the descendants of Banquo; but Euripides and Aristophanes, Shakespeare + and Moliere, Goethe and Ibsen remain fixed in their everlasting seats. + </p> + <p> + How War muzzles the Dramatic Poet + </p> + <p> + As for myself, why, it may be asked, did I not write two plays about the + war instead of two pamphlets on it? The answer is significant. You cannot + make war on war and on your neighbor at the same time. War cannot bear the + terrible castigation of comedy, the ruthless light of laughter that glares + on the stage. When men are heroically dying for their country, it is not + the time to show their lovers and wives and fathers and mothers how they + are being sacrificed to the blunders of boobies, the cupidity of + capitalists, the ambition of conquerors, the electioneering of demagogues, + the Pharisaism of patriots, the lusts and lies and rancors and + bloodthirsts that love war because it opens their prison doors, and sets + them in the thrones of power and popularity. For unless these things are + mercilessly exposed they will hide under the mantle of the ideals on the + stage just as they do in real life. + </p> + <p> + And though there may be better things to reveal, it may not, and indeed + cannot, be militarily expedient to reveal them whilst the issue is still + in the balance. Truth telling is not compatible with the defence of the + realm. We are just now reading the revelations of our generals and + admirals, unmuzzled at last by the armistice. During the war, General A, + in his moving despatches from the field, told how General B had covered + himself with deathless glory in such and such a battle. He now tells us + that General B came within an ace of losing us the war by disobeying his + orders on that occasion, and fighting instead of running away as he ought + to have done. An excellent subject for comedy now that the war is over, no + doubt; but if General A had let this out at the time, what would have been + the effect on General B's soldiers? And had the stage made known what the + Prime Minister and the Secretary of State for War who overruled General A + thought of him, and what he thought of them, as now revealed in raging + controversy, what would have been the effect on the nation? That is why + comedy, though sorely tempted, had to be loyally silent; for the art of + the dramatic poet knows no patriotism; recognizes no obligation but truth + to natural history; cares not whether Germany or England perish; is ready + to cry with Brynhild, "Lass'uns verderben, lachend zu grunde geh'n" sooner + than deceive or be deceived; and thus becomes in time of war a greater + military danger than poison, steel, or trinitrotoluene. That is why I had + to withhold Heartbreak House from the footlights during the war; for the + Germans might on any night have turned the last act from play into + earnest, and even then might not have waited for their cues. + </p> + <p> + June, 1919. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HEARTBREAK HOUSE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <div class="play"> + <h2> + ACT I + </h2> + <p> + The hilly country in the middle of the north edge of Sussex, looking + very pleasant on a fine evening at the end of September, is seen through + the windows of a room which has been built so as to resemble the after + part of an old-fashioned high-pooped ship, with a stern gallery; for the + windows are ship built with heavy timbering, and run right across the + room as continuously as the stability of the wall allows. A row of + lockers under the windows provides an unupholstered windowseat + interrupted by twin glass doors, respectively halfway between the stern + post and the sides. Another door strains the illusion a little by being + apparently in the ship's port side, and yet leading, not to the open + sea, but to the entrance hall of the house. Between this door and the + stern gallery are bookshelves. There are electric light switches beside + the door leading to the hall and the glass doors in the stern gallery. + Against the starboard wall is a carpenter's bench. The vice has a board + in its jaws; and the floor is littered with shavings, overflowing from a + waste-paper basket. A couple of planes and a centrebit are on the bench. + In the same wall, between the bench and the windows, is a narrow doorway + with a half door, above which a glimpse of the room beyond shows that it + is a shelved pantry with bottles and kitchen crockery. + </p> + <p> + On the starboard side, but close to the middle, is a plain oak + drawing-table with drawing-board, T-square, straightedges, set squares, + mathematical instruments, saucers of water color, a tumbler of + discolored water, Indian ink, pencils, and brushes on it. The + drawing-board is set so that the draughtsman's chair has the window on + its left hand. On the floor at the end of the table, on its right, is a + ship's fire bucket. On the port side of the room, near the bookshelves, + is a sofa with its back to the windows. It is a sturdy mahogany article, + oddly upholstered in sailcloth, including the bolster, with a couple of + blankets hanging over the back. Between the sofa and the drawing-table + is a big wicker chair, with broad arms and a low sloping back, with its + back to the light. A small but stout table of teak, with a round top and + gate legs, stands against the port wall between the door and the + bookcase. It is the only article in the room that suggests (not at all + convincingly) a woman's hand in the furnishing. The uncarpeted floor of + narrow boards is caulked and holystoned like a deck. + </p> + <p> + The garden to which the glass doors lead dips to the south before the + landscape rises again to the hills. Emerging from the hollow is the + cupola of an observatory. Between the observatory and the house is a + flagstaff on a little esplanade, with a hammock on the east side and a + long garden seat on the west. + </p> + <p> + A young lady, gloved and hatted, with a dust coat on, is sitting in the + window-seat with her body twisted to enable her to look out at the view. + One hand props her chin: the other hangs down with a volume of the + Temple Shakespeare in it, and her finger stuck in the page she has been + reading. + </p> + <p> + A clock strikes six. + </p> + <p> + The young lady turns and looks at her watch. She rises with an air of + one who waits, and is almost at the end of her patience. She is a pretty + girl, slender, fair, and intelligent looking, nicely but not expensively + dressed, evidently not a smart idler. + </p> + <p> + With a sigh of weary resignation she comes to the draughtsman's chair; + sits down; and begins to read Shakespeare. Presently the book sinks to + her lap; her eyes close; and she dozes into a slumber. + </p> + <p> + An elderly womanservant comes in from the hall with three unopened + bottles of rum on a tray. She passes through and disappears in the + pantry without noticing the young lady. She places the bottles on the + shelf and fills her tray with empty bottles. As she returns with these, + the young lady lets her book drop, awakening herself, and startling the + womanservant so that she all but lets the tray fall. + </p> + <p> + THE WOMANSERVANT. God bless us! [The young lady picks up the book and + places it on the table]. Sorry to wake you, miss, I'm sure; but you are + a stranger to me. What might you be waiting here for now? + </p> + <p> + THE YOUNG LADY. Waiting for somebody to show some signs of knowing that + I have been invited here. + </p> + <p> + THE WOMANSERVANT. Oh, you're invited, are you? And has nobody come? + Dear! dear! + </p> + <p> + THE YOUNG LADY. A wild-looking old gentleman came and looked in at the + window; and I heard him calling out, "Nurse, there is a young and + attractive female waiting in the poop. Go and see what she wants." Are + you the nurse? + </p> + <p> + THE WOMANSERVANT. Yes, miss: I'm Nurse Guinness. That was old Captain + Shotover, Mrs Hushabye's father. I heard him roaring; but I thought it + was for something else. I suppose it was Mrs Hushabye that invited you, + ducky? + </p> + <p> + THE YOUNG LADY. I understood her to do so. But really I think I'd better + go. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. Oh, don't think of such a thing, miss. If Mrs Hushabye + has forgotten all about it, it will be a pleasant surprise for her to + see you, won't it? + </p> + <p> + THE YOUNG LADY. It has been a very unpleasant surprise to me to find + that nobody expects me. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. You'll get used to it, miss: this house is full of + surprises for them that don't know our ways. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [looking in from the hall suddenly: an ancient but + still hardy man with an immense white beard, in a reefer jacket with a + whistle hanging from his neck]. Nurse, there is a hold-all and a handbag + on the front steps for everybody to fall over. Also a tennis racquet. + Who the devil left them there? + </p> + <p> + THE YOUNG LADY. They are mine, I'm afraid. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [advancing to the drawing-table]. Nurse, who is this + misguided and unfortunate young lady? + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. She says Miss Hessy invited her, sir. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. And had she no friend, no parents, to warn her against my + daughter's invitations? This is a pretty sort of house, by heavens! A + young and attractive lady is invited here. Her luggage is left on the + steps for hours; and she herself is deposited in the poop and abandoned, + tired and starving. This is our hospitality. These are our manners. No + room ready. No hot water. No welcoming hostess. Our visitor is to sleep + in the toolshed, and to wash in the duckpond. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. Now it's all right, Captain: I'll get the lady some tea; + and her room shall be ready before she has finished it. [To the young + lady]. Take off your hat, ducky; and make yourself at home [she goes to + the door leading to the hall]. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [as she passes him]. Ducky! Do you suppose, woman, that + because this young lady has been insulted and neglected, you have the + right to address her as you address my wretched children, whom you have + brought up in ignorance of the commonest decencies of social + intercourse? + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. Never mind him, doty. [Quite unconcerned, she goes out + into the hall on her way to the kitchen]. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. Madam, will you favor me with your name? [He sits down in + the big wicker chair]. + </p> + <p> + THE YOUNG LADY. My name is Ellie Dunn. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. Dunn! I had a boatswain whose name was Dunn. He was + originally a pirate in China. He set up as a ship's chandler with stores + which I have every reason to believe he stole from me. No doubt he + became rich. Are you his daughter? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [indignant]. No, certainly not. I am proud to be able to say that + though my father has not been a successful man, nobody has ever had one + word to say against him. I think my father is the best man I have ever + known. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. He must be greatly changed. Has he attained the seventh + degree of concentration? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I don't understand. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. But how could he, with a daughter? I, madam, have two + daughters. One of them is Hesione Hushabye, who invited you here. I keep + this house: she upsets it. I desire to attain the seventh degree of + concentration: she invites visitors and leaves me to entertain them. + [Nurse Guinness returns with the tea-tray, which she places on the teak + table]. I have a second daughter who is, thank God, in a remote part of + the Empire with her numskull of a husband. As a child she thought the + figure-head of my ship, the Dauntless, the most beautiful thing on + earth. He resembled it. He had the same expression: wooden yet + enterprising. She married him, and will never set foot in this house + again. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS [carrying the table, with the tea-things on it, to + Ellie's side]. Indeed you never were more mistaken. She is in England + this very moment. You have been told three times this week that she is + coming home for a year for her health. And very glad you should be to + see your own daughter again after all these years. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. I am not glad. The natural term of the affection of the + human animal for its offspring is six years. My daughter Ariadne was + born when I was forty-six. I am now eighty-eight. If she comes, I am not + at home. If she wants anything, let her take it. If she asks for me, let + her be informed that I am extremely old, and have totally forgotten her. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. That's no talk to offer to a young lady. Here, ducky, + have some tea; and don't listen to him [she pours out a cup of tea]. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [rising wrathfully]. Now before high heaven they have given + this innocent child Indian tea: the stuff they tan their own leather + insides with. [He seizes the cup and the tea-pot and empties both into + the leathern bucket]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [almost in tears]. Oh, please! I am so tired. I should have been + glad of anything. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. Oh, what a thing to do! The poor lamb is ready to drop. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. You shall have some of my tea. Do not touch that fly-blown + cake: nobody eats it here except the dogs. [He disappears into the + pantry]. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. There's a man for you! They say he sold himself to the + devil in Zanzibar before he was a captain; and the older he grows the + more I believe them. + </p> + <p> + A WOMAN'S VOICE [in the hall]. Is anyone at home? Hesione! Nurse! Papa! + Do come, somebody; and take in my luggage. + </p> + <p> + Thumping heard, as of an umbrella, on the wainscot. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. My gracious! It's Miss Addy, Lady Utterword, Mrs + Hushabye's sister: the one I told the captain about. [Calling]. Coming, + Miss, coming. + </p> + <p> + She carries the table back to its place by the door and is harrying out + when she is intercepted by Lady Utterword, who bursts in much flustered. + Lady Utterword, a blonde, is very handsome, very well dressed, and so + precipitate in speech and action that the first impression (erroneous) + is one of comic silliness. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Oh, is that you, Nurse? How are you? You don't look a + day older. Is nobody at home? Where is Hesione? Doesn't she expect me? + Where are the servants? Whose luggage is that on the steps? Where's + papa? Is everybody asleep? [Seeing Ellie]. Oh! I beg your pardon. I + suppose you are one of my nieces. [Approaching her with outstretched + arms]. Come and kiss your aunt, darling. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I'm only a visitor. It is my luggage on the steps. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. I'll go get you some fresh tea, ducky. [She takes up the + tray]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. But the old gentleman said he would make some himself. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. Bless you! he's forgotten what he went for already. His + mind wanders from one thing to another. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Papa, I suppose? + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. Yes, Miss. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [vehemently]. Don't be silly, Nurse. Don't call me Miss. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS [placidly]. No, lovey [she goes out with the tea-tray]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [sitting down with a flounce on the sofa]. I know what + you must feel. Oh, this house, this house! I come back to it after + twenty-three years; and it is just the same: the luggage lying on the + steps, the servants spoilt and impossible, nobody at home to receive + anybody, no regular meals, nobody ever hungry because they are always + gnawing bread and butter or munching apples, and, what is worse, the + same disorder in ideas, in talk, in feeling. When I was a child I was + used to it: I had never known anything better, though I was unhappy, and + longed all the time—oh, how I longed!—to be respectable, to + be a lady, to live as others did, not to have to think of everything for + myself. I married at nineteen to escape from it. My husband is Sir + Hastings Utterword, who has been governor of all the crown colonies in + succession. I have always been the mistress of Government House. I have + been so happy: I had forgotten that people could live like this. I + wanted to see my father, my sister, my nephews and nieces (one ought to, + you know), and I was looking forward to it. And now the state of the + house! the way I'm received! the casual impudence of that woman + Guinness, our old nurse! really Hesione might at least have been here: + some preparation might have been made for me. You must excuse my going + on in this way; but I am really very much hurt and annoyed and + disillusioned: and if I had realized it was to be like this, I wouldn't + have come. I have a great mind to go away without another word [she is + on the point of weeping]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [also very miserable]. Nobody has been here to receive me either. + I thought I ought to go away too. But how can I, Lady Utterword? My + luggage is on the steps; and the station fly has gone. + </p> + <p> + The captain emerges from the pantry with a tray of Chinese lacquer and a + very fine tea-set on it. He rests it provisionally on the end of the + table; snatches away the drawing-board, which he stands on the floor + against table legs; and puts the tray in the space thus cleared. Ellie + pours out a cup greedily. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. Your tea, young lady. What! another lady! I must fetch + another cup [he makes for the pantry]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [rising from the sofa, suffused with emotion]. Papa! + Don't you know me? I'm your daughter. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. Nonsense! my daughter's upstairs asleep. [He vanishes + through the half door]. + </p> + <p> + Lady Utterword retires to the window to conceal her tears. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [going to her with the cup]. Don't be so distressed. Have this cup + of tea. He is very old and very strange: he has been just like that to + me. I know how dreadful it must be: my own father is all the world to + me. Oh, I'm sure he didn't mean it. + </p> + <p> + The captain returns with another cup. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. Now we are complete. [He places it on the tray]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [hysterically]. Papa, you can't have forgotten me. I am + Ariadne. I'm little Paddy Patkins. Won't you kiss me? [She goes to him + and throws her arms round his neck]. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [woodenly enduring her embrace]. How can you be Ariadne? You + are a middle-aged woman: well preserved, madam, but no longer young. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. But think of all the years and years I have been away, + Papa. I have had to grow old, like other people. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [disengaging himself]. You should grow out of kissing + strange men: they may be striving to attain the seventh degree of + concentration. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. But I'm your daughter. You haven't seen me for years. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. So much the worse! When our relatives are at home, we have + to think of all their good points or it would be impossible to endure + them. But when they are away, we console ourselves for their absence by + dwelling on their vices. That is how I have come to think my absent + daughter Ariadne a perfect fiend; so do not try to ingratiate yourself + here by impersonating her [he walks firmly away to the other side of the + room]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Ingratiating myself indeed! [With dignity]. Very well, + papa. [She sits down at the drawing-table and pours out tea for + herself]. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. I am neglecting my social duties. You remember Dunn? Billy + Dunn? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. DO you mean that villainous sailor who robbed you? + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [introducing Ellie]. His daughter. [He sits down on the + sofa]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [protesting]. No— + </p> + <p> + Nurse Guinness returns with fresh tea. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. Take that hogwash away. Do you hear? + </p> + <p> + NURSE. You've actually remembered about the tea! [To Ellie]. Oh, miss, + he didn't forget you after all! You HAVE made an impression. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [gloomily]. Youth! beauty! novelty! They are badly wanted in + this house. I am excessively old. Hesione is only moderately young. Her + children are not youthful. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. How can children be expected to be youthful in this + house? Almost before we could speak we were filled with notions that + might have been all very well for pagan philosophers of fifty, but were + certainly quite unfit for respectable people of any age. + </p> + <p> + NURSE. You were always for respectability, Miss Addy. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Nurse, will you please remember that I am Lady + Utterword, and not Miss Addy, nor lovey, nor darling, nor doty? Do you + hear? + </p> + <p> + NURSE. Yes, ducky: all right. I'll tell them all they must call you My + Lady. [She takes her tray out with undisturbed placidity]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. What comfort? what sense is there in having servants + with no manners? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [rising and coming to the table to put down her empty cup]. Lady + Utterword, do you think Mrs Hushabye really expects me? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Oh, don't ask me. You can see for yourself that I've + just arrived; her only sister, after twenty-three years' absence! and it + seems that I am not expected. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. What does it matter whether the young lady is expected or + not? She is welcome. There are beds: there is food. I'll find a room for + her myself [he makes for the door]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [following him to stop him]. Oh, please—[He goes out]. Lady + Utterword, I don't know what to do. Your father persists in believing + that my father is some sailor who robbed him. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You had better pretend not to notice it. My father is a + very clever man; but he always forgot things; and now that he is old, of + course he is worse. And I must warn you that it is sometimes very hard + to feel quite sure that he really forgets. + </p> + <p> + Mrs Hushabye bursts into the room tempestuously and embraces Ellie. She + is a couple of years older than Lady Utterword, and even better looking. + She has magnificent black hair, eyes like the fishpools of Heshbon, and + a nobly modelled neck, short at the back and low between her shoulders + in front. Unlike her sister she is uncorseted and dressed anyhow in a + rich robe of black pile that shows off her white skin and statuesque + contour. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Ellie, my darling, my pettikins [kissing her], how long + have you been here? I've been at home all the time: I was putting + flowers and things in your room; and when I just sat down for a moment + to try how comfortable the armchair was I went off to sleep. Papa woke + me and told me you were here. Fancy your finding no one, and being + neglected and abandoned. [Kissing her again]. My poor love! [She + deposits Ellie on the sofa. Meanwhile Ariadne has left the table and + come over to claim her share of attention]. Oh! you've brought someone + with you. Introduce me. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Hesione, is it possible that you don't know me? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [conventionally]. Of course I remember your face quite + well. Where have we met? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Didn't Papa tell you I was here? Oh! this is really too + much. [She throws herself sulkily into the big chair]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Papa! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Yes, Papa. Our papa, you unfeeling wretch! [Rising + angrily]. I'll go straight to a hotel. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [seizing her by the shoulders]. My goodness gracious + goodness, you don't mean to say that you're Addy! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I certainly am Addy; and I don't think I can be so + changed that you would not have recognized me if you had any real + affection for me. And Papa didn't think me even worth mentioning! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What a lark! Sit down [she pushes her back into the chair + instead of kissing her, and posts herself behind it]. You DO look a + swell. You're much handsomer than you used to be. You've made the + acquaintance of Ellie, of course. She is going to marry a perfect hog of + a millionaire for the sake of her father, who is as poor as a church + mouse; and you must help me to stop her. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, please, Hesione! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. My pettikins, the man's coming here today with your father + to begin persecuting you; and everybody will see the state of the case + in ten minutes; so what's the use of making a secret of it? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. He is not a hog, Hesione. You don't know how wonderfully good he + was to my father, and how deeply grateful I am to him. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [to Lady Utterword]. Her father is a very remarkable man, + Addy. His name is Mazzini Dunn. Mazzini was a celebrity of some kind who + knew Ellie's grandparents. They were both poets, like the Brownings; and + when her father came into the world Mazzini said, "Another soldier born + for freedom!" So they christened him Mazzini; and he has been fighting + for freedom in his quiet way ever since. That's why he is so poor. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I am proud of his poverty. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Of course you are, pettikins. Why not leave him in it, and + marry someone you love? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [rising suddenly and explosively]. Hesione, are you going + to kiss me or are you not? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What do you want to be kissed for? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I DON'T want to be kissed; but I do want you to behave + properly and decently. We are sisters. We have been separated for + twenty-three years. You OUGHT to kiss me. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. To-morrow morning, dear, before you make up. I hate the + smell of powder. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Oh! you unfeeling—[she is interrupted by the + return of the captain]. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [to Ellie]. Your room is ready. [Ellie rises]. The sheets + were damp; but I have changed them [he makes for the garden door on the + port side]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Oh! What about my sheets? + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [halting at the door]. Take my advice: air them: or take + them off and sleep in blankets. You shall sleep in Ariadne's old room. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Indeed I shall do nothing of the sort. That little hole! + I am entitled to the best spare room. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN [continuing unmoved]. She married a numskull. She told me + she would marry anyone to get away from home. + </p> + <p> + LADT UTTERWORD. You are pretending not to know me on purpose. I will + leave the house. + </p> + <p> + Mazzini Dunn enters from the hall. He is a little elderly man with + bulging credulous eyes and earnest manners. He is dressed in a blue + serge jacket suit with an unbuttoned mackintosh over it, and carries a + soft black hat of clerical cut. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. At last! Captain Shotover, here is my father. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN. This! Nonsense! not a bit like him [he goes away through + the garden, shutting the door sharply behind him]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I will not be ignored and pretended to be somebody else. + I will have it out with Papa now, this instant. [To Mazzini]. Excuse me. + [She follows the captain out, making a hasty bow to Mazzini, who returns + it]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [hospitably shaking hands]. How good of you to come, Mr + Dunn! You don't mind Papa, do you? He is as mad as a hatter, you know, + but quite harmless and extremely clever. You will have some delightful + talks with him. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I hope so. [To Ellie]. So here you are, Ellie, dear. [He draws + her arm affectionately through his]. I must thank you, Mrs Hushabye, for + your kindness to my daughter. I'm afraid she would have had no holiday + if you had not invited her. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Not at all. Very nice of her to come and attract young + people to the house for us. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [smiling]. I'm afraid Ellie is not interested in young men, Mrs + Hushabye. Her taste is on the graver, solider side. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [with a sudden rather hard brightness in her manner]. Won't + you take off your overcoat, Mr Dunn? You will find a cupboard for coats + and hats and things in the corner of the hall. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [hastily releasing Ellie]. Yes—thank you—I had + better— [he goes out]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [emphatically]. The old brute! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Who? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Who! Him. He. It [pointing after Mazzini]. "Graver, + solider tastes," indeed! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [aghast]. You don't mean that you were speaking like that of my + father! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I was. You know I was. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [with dignity]. I will leave your house at once. [She turns to the + door]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. If you attempt it, I'll tell your father why. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [turning again]. Oh! How can you treat a visitor like this, Mrs + Hushabye? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I thought you were going to call me Hesione. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Certainly not now? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Very well: I'll tell your father. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [distressed]. Oh! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. If you turn a hair—if you take his part against me + and against your own heart for a moment, I'll give that born soldier of + freedom a piece of my mind that will stand him on his selfish old head + for a week. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Hesione! My father selfish! How little you know— + </p> + <p> + She is interrupted by Mazzini, who returns, excited and perspiring. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Ellie, Mangan has come: I thought you'd like to know. Excuse + me, Mrs Hushabye, the strange old gentleman— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Papa. Quite so. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh, I beg your pardon, of course: I was a little confused by + his manner. He is making Mangan help him with something in the garden; + and he wants me too— + </p> + <p> + A powerful whistle is heard. + </p> + <p> + THE CAPTAIN'S VOICE. Bosun ahoy! [the whistle is repeated]. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [flustered]. Oh dear! I believe he is whistling for me. [He + hurries out]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Now MY father is a wonderful man if you like. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Hesione, listen to me. You don't understand. My father and Mr + Mangan were boys together. Mr Ma— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I don't care what they were: we must sit down if you are + going to begin as far back as that. [She snatches at Ellie's waist, and + makes her sit down on the sofa beside her]. Now, pettikins, tell me all + about Mr Mangan. They call him Boss Mangan, don't they? He is a Napoleon + of industry and disgustingly rich, isn't he? Why isn't your father rich? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. My poor father should never have been in business. His parents + were poets; and they gave him the noblest ideas; but they could not + afford to give him a profession. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Fancy your grandparents, with their eyes in fine frenzy + rolling! And so your poor father had to go into business. Hasn't he + succeeded in it? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. He always used to say he could succeed if he only had some + capital. He fought his way along, to keep a roof over our heads and + bring us up well; but it was always a struggle: always the same + difficulty of not having capital enough. I don't know how to describe it + to you. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Poor Ellie! I know. Pulling the devil by the tail. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [hurt]. Oh, no. Not like that. It was at least dignified. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. That made it all the harder, didn't it? I shouldn't have + pulled the devil by the tail with dignity. I should have pulled hard—[between + her teeth] hard. Well? Go on. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. At last it seemed that all our troubles were at an end. Mr Mangan + did an extraordinarily noble thing out of pure friendship for my father + and respect for his character. He asked him how much capital he wanted, + and gave it to him. I don't mean that he lent it to him, or that he + invested it in his business. He just simply made him a present of it. + Wasn't that splendid of him? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. On condition that you married him? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, no, no, no! This was when I was a child. He had never even + seen me: he never came to our house. It was absolutely disinterested. + Pure generosity. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh! I beg the gentleman's pardon. Well, what became of the + money? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. We all got new clothes and moved into another house. And I went + to another school for two years. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Only two years? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. That was all: for at the end of two years my father was utterly + ruined. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. How? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I don't know. I never could understand. But it was dreadful. When + we were poor my father had never been in debt. But when he launched out + into business on a large scale, he had to incur liabilities. When the + business went into liquidation he owed more money than Mr Mangan had + given him. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Bit off more than he could chew, I suppose. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I think you are a little unfeeling about it. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. My pettikins, you mustn't mind my way of talking. I was + quite as sensitive and particular as you once; but I have picked up so + much slang from the children that I am really hardly presentable. I + suppose your father had no head for business, and made a mess of it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, that just shows how entirely you are mistaken about him. The + business turned out a great success. It now pays forty-four per cent + after deducting the excess profits tax. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Then why aren't you rolling in money? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I don't know. It seems very unfair to me. You see, my father was + made bankrupt. It nearly broke his heart, because he had persuaded + several of his friends to put money into the business. He was sure it + would succeed; and events proved that he was quite right. But they all + lost their money. It was dreadful. I don't know what we should have done + but for Mr Mangan. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What! Did the Boss come to the rescue again, after all his + money being thrown away? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. He did indeed, and never uttered a reproach to my father. He + bought what was left of the business—the buildings and the + machinery and things—from the official trustee for enough money to + enable my father to pay six-and-eight-pence in the pound and get his + discharge. Everyone pitied Papa so much, and saw so plainly that he was + an honorable man, that they let him off at six-and-eight-pence instead + of ten shillings. Then Mr. Mangan started a company to take up the + business, and made my father a manager in it to save us from starvation; + for I wasn't earning anything then. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HUSHABYE. Quite a romance. And when did the Boss develop the tender + passion? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, that was years after, quite lately. He took the chair one + night at a sort of people's concert. I was singing there. As an amateur, + you know: half a guinea for expenses and three songs with three encores. + He was so pleased with my singing that he asked might he walk home with + me. I never saw anyone so taken aback as he was when I took him home and + introduced him to my father, his own manager. It was then that my father + told me how nobly he had behaved. Of course it was considered a great + chance for me, as he is so rich. And—and—we drifted into a + sort of understanding—I suppose I should call it an engagement—[she + is distressed and cannot go on]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [rising and marching about]. You may have drifted into it; + but you will bounce out of it, my pettikins, if I am to have anything to + do with it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [hopelessly]. No: it's no use. I am bound in honor and gratitude. + I will go through with it. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [behind the sofa, scolding down at her]. You know, of + course, that it's not honorable or grateful to marry a man you don't + love. Do you love this Mangan man? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Yes. At least— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I don't want to know about "at least": I want to know the + worst. Girls of your age fall in love with all sorts of impossible + people, especially old people. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I like Mr Mangan very much; and I shall always be— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [impatiently completing the sentence and prancing away + intolerantly to starboard]. —grateful to him for his kindness to + dear father. I know. Anybody else? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. What do you mean? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Anybody else? Are you in love with anybody else? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Of course not. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Humph! [The book on the drawing-table catches her eye. She + picks it up, and evidently finds the title very unexpected. She looks at + Ellie, and asks, quaintly] Quite sure you're not in love with an actor? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. No, no. Why? What put such a thing into your head? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. This is yours, isn't it? Why else should you be reading + Othello? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. My father taught me to love Shakespeare. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHAYE [flinging the book down on the table]. Really! your father + does seem to be about the limit. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [naively]. Do you never read Shakespeare, Hesione? That seems to + me so extraordinary. I like Othello. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Do you, indeed? He was jealous, wasn't he? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, not that. I think all the part about jealousy is horrible. + But don't you think it must have been a wonderful experience for + Desdemona, brought up so quietly at home, to meet a man who had been out + in the world doing all sorts of brave things and having terrible + adventures, and yet finding something in her that made him love to sit + and talk with her and tell her about them? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. That's your idea of romance, is it? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Not romance, exactly. It might really happen. + </p> + <p> + Ellie's eyes show that she is not arguing, but in a daydream. Mrs + Hushabye, watching her inquisitively, goes deliberately back to the sofa + and resumes her seat beside her. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Ellie darling, have you noticed that some of those stories + that Othello told Desdemona couldn't have happened—? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, no. Shakespeare thought they could have happened. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Hm! Desdemona thought they could have happened. But they + didn't. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Why do you look so enigmatic about it? You are such a sphinx: I + never know what you mean. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Desdemona would have found him out if she had lived, you + know. I wonder was that why he strangled her! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Othello was not telling lies. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. How do you know? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Shakespeare would have said if he was. Hesione, there are men who + have done wonderful things: men like Othello, only, of course, white, + and very handsome, and— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Ah! Now we're coming to it. Tell me all about him. I knew + there must be somebody, or you'd never have been so miserable about + Mangan: you'd have thought it quite a lark to marry him. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [blushing vividly]. Hesione, you are dreadful. But I don't want to + make a secret of it, though of course I don't tell everybody. Besides, I + don't know him. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Don't know him! What does that mean? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Well, of course I know him to speak to. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. But you want to know him ever so much more intimately, eh? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. No, no: I know him quite—almost intimately. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You don't know him; and you know him almost intimately. + How lucid! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I mean that he does not call on us. I—I got into + conversation with him by chance at a concert. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You seem to have rather a gay time at your concerts, + Ellie. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Not at all: we talk to everyone in the greenroom waiting for our + turns. I thought he was one of the artists: he looked so splendid. But + he was only one of the committee. I happened to tell him that I was + copying a picture at the National Gallery. I make a little money that + way. I can't paint much; but as it's always the same picture I can do it + pretty quickly and get two or three pounds for it. It happened that he + came to the National Gallery one day. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. One students' day. Paid sixpence to stumble about through + a crowd of easels, when he might have come in next day for nothing and + found the floor clear! Quite by accident? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [triumphantly]. No. On purpose. He liked talking to me. He knows + lots of the most splendid people. Fashionable women who are all in love + with him. But he ran away from them to see me at the National Gallery + and persuade me to come with him for a drive round Richmond Park in a + taxi. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. My pettikins, you have been going it. It's wonderful what + you good girls can do without anyone saying a word. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I am not in society, Hesione. If I didn't make acquaintances in + that way I shouldn't have any at all. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Well, no harm if you know how to take care of yourself. + May I ask his name? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [slowly and musically]. Marcus Darnley. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [echoing the music]. Marcus Darnley! What a splendid name! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, I'm so glad you think so. I think so too; but I was afraid it + was only a silly fancy of my own. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Hm! Is he one of the Aberdeen Darnleys? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Nobody knows. Just fancy! He was found in an antique chest— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. A what? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. An antique chest, one summer morning in a rose garden, after a + night of the most terrible thunderstorm. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What on earth was he doing in the chest? Did he get into + it because he was afraid of the lightning? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, no, no: he was a baby. The name Marcus Darnley was + embroidered on his baby clothes. And five hundred pounds in gold. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [Looking hard at her]. Ellie! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. The garden of the Viscount— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. —de Rougemont? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [innocently]. No: de Larochejaquelin. A French family. A vicomte. + His life has been one long romance. A tiger— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Slain by his own hand? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, no: nothing vulgar like that. He saved the life of the tiger + from a hunting party: one of King Edward's hunting parties in India. The + King was furious: that was why he never had his military services + properly recognized. But he doesn't care. He is a Socialist and despises + rank, and has been in three revolutions fighting on the barricades. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. How can you sit there telling me such lies? You, Ellie, of + all people! And I thought you were a perfectly simple, straightforward, + good girl. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [rising, dignified but very angry]. Do you mean you don't believe + me? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Of course I don't believe you. You're inventing every word + of it. Do you take me for a fool? + </p> + <p> + Ellie stares at her. Her candor is so obvious that Mrs Hushabye is + puzzled. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Goodbye, Hesione. I'm very sorry. I see now that it sounds very + improbable as I tell it. But I can't stay if you think that way about + me. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [catching her dress]. You shan't go. I couldn't be so + mistaken: I know too well what liars are like. Somebody has really told + you all this. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [flushing]. Hesione, don't say that you don't believe him. I + couldn't bear that. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [soothing her]. Of course I believe him, dearest. But you + should have broken it to me by degrees. [Drawing her back to her seat]. + Now tell me all about him. Are you in love with him? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, no. I'm not so foolish. I don't fall in love with people. I'm + not so silly as you think. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I see. Only something to think about—to give some + interest and pleasure to life. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Just so. That's all, really. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. It makes the hours go fast, doesn't it? No tedious waiting + to go to sleep at nights and wondering whether you will have a bad + night. How delightful it makes waking up in the morning! How much better + than the happiest dream! All life transfigured! No more wishing one had + an interesting book to read, because life is so much happier than any + book! No desire but to be alone and not to have to talk to anyone: to be + alone and just think about it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [embracing her]. Hesione, you are a witch. How do you know? Oh, + you are the most sympathetic woman in the world! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [caressing her]. Pettikins, my pettikins, how I envy you! + and how I pity you! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Pity me! Oh, why? + </p> + <p> + A very handsome man of fifty, with mousquetaire moustaches, wearing a + rather dandified curly brimmed hat, and carrying an elaborate + walking-stick, comes into the room from the hall, and stops short at + sight of the women on the sofa. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [seeing him and rising in glad surprise]. Oh! Hesione: this is Mr + Marcus Darnley. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [rising]. What a lark! He is my husband. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. But now—[she stops suddenly: then turns pale and sways]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [catching her and sitting down with her on the sofa]. + Steady, my pettikins. + </p> + <p> + THE MAN [with a mixture of confusion and effrontery, depositing his hat + and stick on the teak table]. My real name, Miss Dunn, is Hector + Hushabye. I leave you to judge whether that is a name any sensitive man + would care to confess to. I never use it when I can possibly help it. I + have been away for nearly a month; and I had no idea you knew my wife, + or that you were coming here. I am none the less delighted to find you + in our little house. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [in great distress]. I don't know what to do. Please, may I speak + to papa? Do leave me. I can't bear it. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Be off, Hector. + </p> + HECTOR. I— + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Quick, quick. Get out. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. If you think it better—[he goes out, taking his hat with + him but leaving the stick on the table]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [laying Ellie down at the end of the sofa]. Now, pettikins, + he is gone. There's nobody but me. You can let yourself go. Don't try to + control yourself. Have a good cry. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [raising her head]. Damn! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Splendid! Oh, what a relief! I thought you were going to + be broken-hearted. Never mind me. Damn him again. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I am not damning him. I am damning myself for being such a fool. + [Rising]. How could I let myself be taken in so? [She begins prowling to + and fro, her bloom gone, looking curiously older and harder]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [cheerfully]. Why not, pettikins? Very few young women can + resist Hector. I couldn't when I was your age. He is really rather + splendid, you know. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [turning on her]. Splendid! Yes, splendid looking, of course. But + how can you love a liar? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I don't know. But you can, fortunately. Otherwise there + wouldn't be much love in the world. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. But to lie like that! To be a boaster! a coward! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [rising in alarm]. Pettikins, none of that, if you please. + If you hint the slightest doubt of Hector's courage, he will go straight + off and do the most horribly dangerous things to convince himself that + he isn't a coward. He has a dreadful trick of getting out of one + third-floor window and coming in at another, just to test his nerve. He + has a whole drawerful of Albert Medals for saving people's lives. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. He never told me that. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. He never boasts of anything he really did: he can't bear + it; and it makes him shy if anyone else does. All his stories are + made-up stories. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [coming to her]. Do you mean that he is really brave, and really + has adventures, and yet tells lies about things that he never did and + that never happened? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Yes, pettikins, I do. People don't have their virtues and + vices in sets: they have them anyhow: all mixed. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [staring at her thoughtfully]. There's something odd about this + house, Hesione, and even about you. I don't know why I'm talking to you + so calmly. I have a horrible fear that my heart is broken, but that + heartbreak is not like what I thought it must be. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [fondling her]. It's only life educating you, pettikins. + How do you feel about Boss Mangan now? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [disengaging herself with an expression of distaste]. Oh, how can + you remind me of him, Hesione? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Sorry, dear. I think I hear Hector coming back. You don't + mind now, do you, dear? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Not in the least. I am quite cured. + </p> + <p> + Mazzini Dunn and Hector come in from the hall. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [as he opens the door and allows Mazzini to pass in]. One second + more, and she would have been a dead woman! + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Dear! dear! what an escape! Ellie, my love, Mr Hushabye has + just been telling me the most extraordinary— + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Yes, I've heard it [she crosses to the other side of the room]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [following her]. Not this one: I'll tell it to you after dinner. + I think you'll like it. The truth is I made it up for you, and was + looking forward to the pleasure of telling it to you. But in a moment of + impatience at being turned out of the room, I threw it away on your + father. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [turning at bay with her back to the carpenter's bench, scornfully + self-possessed]. It was not thrown away. He believes it. I should not + have believed it. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [benevolently]. Ellie is very naughty, Mr Hushabye. Of course + she does not really think that. [He goes to the bookshelves, and + inspects the titles of the volumes]. + </p> + <p> + Boss Mangan comes in from the hall, followed by the captain. Mangan, + carefully frock-coated as for church or for a diHECTORs' meeting, is + about fifty-five, with a careworn, mistrustful expression, standing a + little on an entirely imaginary dignity, with a dull complexion, + straight, lustreless hair, and features so entirely commonplace that it + is impossible to describe them. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [to Mrs Hushabye, introducing the newcomer]. Says his + name is Mangan. Not able-bodied. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [graciously]. How do you do, Mr Mangan? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [shaking hands]. Very pleased. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Dunn's lost his muscle, but recovered his nerve. Men + seldom do after three attacks of delirium tremens [he goes into the + pantry]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I congratulate you, Mr Dunn. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [dazed]. I am a lifelong teetotaler. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You will find it far less trouble to let papa have his own + way than try to explain. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. But three attacks of delirium tremens, really! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [to Mangan]. Do you know my husband, Mr Mangan [she + indicates Hector]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [going to Hector, who meets him with outstretched hand]. Very + pleased. [Turning to Ellie]. I hope, Miss Ellie, you have not found the + journey down too fatiguing. [They shake hands]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Hector, show Mr Dunn his room. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Certainly. Come along, Mr Dunn. [He takes Mazzini out]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. You haven't shown me my room yet, Hesione. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. How stupid of me! Come along. Make yourself quite at home, + Mr Mangan. Papa will entertain you. [She calls to the captain in the + pantry]. Papa, come and explain the house to Mr Mangan. + </p> + <p> + She goes out with Ellie. The captain comes from the pantry. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You're going to marry Dunn's daughter. Don't. You're + too old. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [staggered]. Well! That's fairly blunt, Captain. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It's true. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. She doesn't think so. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. She does. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Older men than I have— + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [finishing the sentence for him].—made fools of + themselves. That, also, is true. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [asserting himself]. I don't see that this is any business of + yours. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It is everybody's business. The stars in their courses + are shaken when such things happen. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I'm going to marry her all the same. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. How do you know? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [playing the strong man]. I intend to. I mean to. See? I never + made up my mind to do a thing yet that I didn't bring it off. That's the + sort of man I am; and there will be a better understanding between us + when you make up your mind to that, Captain. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You frequent picture palaces. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Perhaps I do. Who told you? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Talk like a man, not like a movie. You mean that you + make a hundred thousand a year. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I don't boast. But when I meet a man that makes a hundred + thousand a year, I take off my hat to that man, and stretch out my hand + to him and call him brother. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Then you also make a hundred thousand a year, hey? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. No. I can't say that. Fifty thousand, perhaps. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. His half brother only [he turns away from Mangan with + his usual abruptness, and collects the empty tea-cups on the Chinese + tray]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [irritated]. See here, Captain Shotover. I don't quite understand + my position here. I came here on your daughter's invitation. Am I in her + house or in yours? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You are beneath the dome of heaven, in the house of + God. What is true within these walls is true outside them. Go out on the + seas; climb the mountains; wander through the valleys. She is still too + young. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [weakening]. But I'm very little over fifty. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You are still less under sixty. Boss Mangan, you will + not marry the pirate's child [he carries the tray away into the pantry]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [following him to the half door]. What pirate's child? What are + you talking about? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [in the pantry]. Ellie Dunn. You will not marry her. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Who will stop me? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [emerging]. My daughter [he makes for the door leading + to the hall]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [following him]. Mrs Hushabye! Do you mean to say she brought me + down here to break it off? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [stopping and turning on him]. I know nothing more than + I have seen in her eye. She will break it off. Take my advice: marry a + West Indian negress: they make excellent wives. I was married to one + myself for two years. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Well, I am damned! + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I thought so. I was, too, for many years. The negress + redeemed me. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [feebly]. This is queer. I ought to walk out of this house. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Why? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Well, many men would be offended by your style of talking. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Nonsense! It's the other sort of talking that makes + quarrels. Nobody ever quarrels with me. + </p> + <p> + A gentleman, whose first-rate tailoring and frictionless manners + proclaim the wellbred West Ender, comes in from the hall. He has an + engaging air of being young and unmarried, but on close inspection is + found to be at least over forty. + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN. Excuse my intruding in this fashion, but there is no + knocker on the door and the bell does not seem to ring. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Why should there be a knocker? Why should the bell + ring? The door is open. + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN. Precisely. So I ventured to come in. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Quite right. I will see about a room for you [he makes + for the door]. + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN [stopping him]. But I'm afraid you don't know who I am. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. DO you suppose that at my age I make distinctions + between one fellow creature and another? [He goes out. Mangan and the + newcomer stare at one another]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Strange character, Captain Shotover, sir. + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN. Very. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [shouting outside]. Hesione, another person has arrived + and wants a room. Man about town, well dressed, fifty. + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN. Fancy Hesione's feelings! May I ask are you a member of + the family? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. No. + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN. I am. At least a connection. + </p> + <p> + Mrs Hushabye comes back. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. How do you do? How good of you to come! + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN. I am very glad indeed to make your acquaintance, Hesione. + [Instead of taking her hand he kisses her. At the same moment the + captain appears in the doorway]. You will excuse my kissing your + daughter, Captain, when I tell you that— + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Stuff! Everyone kisses my daughter. Kiss her as much + as you like [he makes for the pantry]. + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN. Thank you. One moment, Captain. [The captain halts and + turns. The gentleman goes to him affably]. Do you happen to remember but + probably you don't, as it occurred many years ago— that your + younger daughter married a numskull? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Yes. She said she'd marry anybody to get away from + this house. I should not have recognized you: your head is no longer + like a walnut. Your aspect is softened. You have been boiled in bread + and milk for years and years, like other married men. Poor devil! [He + disappears into the pantry]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [going past Mangan to the gentleman and scrutinizing him]. + I don't believe you are Hastings Utterword. + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN. I am not. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Then what business had you to kiss me? + </p> + <p> + THE GENTLEMAN. I thought I would like to. The fact is, I am Randall + Utterword, the unworthy younger brother of Hastings. I was abroad + diplomatizing when he was married. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [dashing in]. Hesione, where is the key of the wardrobe + in my room? My diamonds are in my dressing-bag: I must lock it up—[recognizing + the stranger with a shock] Randall, how dare you? [She marches at him + past Mrs Hushabye, who retreats and joins Mangan near the sofa]. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. How dare I what? I am not doing anything. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Who told you I was here? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Hastings. You had just left when I called on you at Claridge's; + so I followed you down here. You are looking extremely well. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Don't presume to tell me so. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What is wrong with Mr Randall, Addy? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [recollecting herself]. Oh, nothing. But he has no right + to come bothering you and papa without being invited [she goes to the + window-seat and sits down, turning away from them ill-humoredly and + looking into the garden, where Hector and Ellie are now seen strolling + together]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I think you have not met Mr Mangan, Addy. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [turning her head and nodding coldly to Mangan]. I beg + your pardon. Randall, you have flustered me so: I make a perfect fool of + myself. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Lady Utterword. My sister. My younger sister. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [bowing]. Pleased to meet you, Lady Utterword. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [with marked interest]. Who is that gentleman walking in + the garden with Miss Dunn? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I don't know. She quarrelled mortally with my husband only + ten minutes ago; and I didn't know anyone else had come. It must be a + visitor. [She goes to the window to look]. Oh, it is Hector. They've + made it up. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Your husband! That handsome man? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Well, why shouldn't my husband be a handsome man? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [joining them at the window]. One's husband never is, Ariadne + [he sits by Lady Utterword, on her right]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. One's sister's husband always is, Mr Randall. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Don't be vulgar, Randall. And you, Hesione, are just as + bad. + </p> + <p> + Ellie and Hector come in from the garden by the starboard door. Randall + rises. Ellie retires into the corner near the pantry. Hector comes + forward; and Lady Utterword rises looking her very best. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HUSHABYE. Hector, this is Addy. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [apparently surprised]. Not this lady. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [smiling]. Why not? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [looking at her with a piercing glance of deep but respectful + admiration, his moustache bristling]. I thought— [pulling himself + together]. I beg your pardon, Lady Utterword. I am extremely glad to + welcome you at last under our roof [he offers his hand with grave + courtesy]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. She wants to be kissed, Hector. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Hesione! [But she still smiles]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Call her Addy; and kiss her like a good brother-in-law; + and have done with it. [She leaves them to themselves]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Behave yourself, Hesione. Lady Utterword is entitled not only to + hospitality but to civilization. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [gratefully]. Thank you, Hector. [They shake hands + cordially]. + </p> + <p> + Mazzini Dunn is seen crossing the garden from starboard to port. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [coming from the pantry and addressing Ellie]. Your + father has washed himself. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [quite self-possessed]. He often does, Captain Shotover. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. A strange conversion! I saw him through the pantry + window. + </p> + <p> + Mazzini Dunn enters through the port window door, newly washed and + brushed, and stops, smiling benevolently, between Mangan and Mrs + Hushabye. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [introducing]. Mr Mazzini Dunn, Lady Ut—oh, I forgot: + you've met. [Indicating Ellie] Miss Dunn. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [walking across the room to take Ellie's hand, and beaming at + his own naughty irony]. I have met Miss Dunn also. She is my daughter. + [He draws her arm through his caressingly]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Of course: how stupid! Mr Utterword, my sister's—er— + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [shaking hands agreeably]. Her brother-in-law, Mr Dunn. How do + you do? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. This is my husband. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. We have met, dear. Don't introduce us any more. [He moves away + to the big chair, and adds] Won't you sit down, Lady Utterword? [She + does so very graciously]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Sorry. I hate it: it's like making people show their + tickets. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [sententiously]. How little it tells us, after all! The great + question is, not who we are, but what we are. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Ha! What are you? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [taken aback]. What am I? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. A thief, a pirate, and a murderer. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I assure you you are mistaken. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. An adventurous life; but what does it end in? + Respectability. A ladylike daughter. The language and appearance of a + city missionary. Let it be a warning to all of you [he goes out through + the garden]. + </p> + <p> + DUNN. I hope nobody here believes that I am a thief, a pirate, or a + murderer. Mrs Hushabye, will you excuse me a moment? I must really go + and explain. [He follows the captain]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [as he goes]. It's no use. You'd really better— [but + Dunn has vanished]. We had better all go out and look for some tea. We + never have regular tea; but you can always get some when you want: the + servants keep it stewing all day. The kitchen veranda is the best place + to ask. May I show you? [She goes to the starboard door]. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [going with her]. Thank you, I don't think I'll take any tea + this afternoon. But if you will show me the garden— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. There's nothing to see in the garden except papa's + observatory, and a gravel pit with a cave where he keeps dynamite and + things of that sort. However, it's pleasanter out of doors; so come + along. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Dynamite! Isn't that rather risky? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Well, we don't sit in the gravel pit when there's a + thunderstorm. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERORRD. That's something new. What is the dynamite for? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. To blow up the human race if it goes too far. He is trying to + discover a psychic ray that will explode all the explosive at the well + of a Mahatma. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. The captain's tea is delicious, Mr Utterword. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [stopping in the doorway]. Do you mean to say that you've + had some of my father's tea? that you got round him before you were ten + minutes in the house? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I did. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You little devil! [She goes out with Randall]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Won't you come, Miss Ellie? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I'm too tired. I'll take a book up to my room and rest a little. + [She goes to the bookshelf]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Right. You can't do better. But I'm disappointed. [He follows + Randall and Mrs Hushabye]. + </p> + <p> + Ellie, Hector, and Lady Utterword are left. Hector is close to Lady + Utterword. They look at Ellie, waiting for her to go. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [looking at the title of a book]. Do you like stories of + adventure, Lady Utterword? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [patronizingly]. Of course, dear. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Then I'll leave you to Mr Hushabye. [She goes out through the + hall]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. That girl is mad about tales of adventure. The lies I have to + tell her! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [not interested in Ellie]. When you saw me what did you + mean by saying that you thought, and then stopping short? What did you + think? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [folding his arms and looking down at her magnetically]. May I + tell you? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Of course. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. It will not sound very civil. I was on the point of saying, "I + thought you were a plain woman." + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Oh, for shame, Hector! What right had you to notice + whether I am plain or not? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Listen to me, Ariadne. Until today I have seen only photographs + of you; and no photograph can give the strange fascination of the + daughters of that supernatural old man. There is some damnable quality + in them that destroys men's moral sense, and carries them beyond honor + and dishonor. You know that, don't you? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Perhaps I do, Hector. But let me warn you once for all + that I am a rigidly conventional woman. You may think because I'm a + Shotover that I'm a Bohemian, because we are all so horribly Bohemian. + But I'm not. I hate and loathe Bohemianism. No child brought up in a + strict Puritan household ever suffered from Puritanism as I suffered + from our Bohemianism. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Our children are like that. They spend their holidays in the + houses of their respectable schoolfellows. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I shall invite them for Christmas. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Their absence leaves us both without our natural chaperones. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Children are certainly very inconvenient sometimes. But + intelligent people can always manage, unless they are Bohemians. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. You are no Bohemian; but you are no Puritan either: your + attraction is alive and powerful. What sort of woman do you count + yourself? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I am a woman of the world, Hector; and I can assure you + that if you will only take the trouble always to do the perfectly + correct thing, and to say the perfectly correct thing, you can do just + what you like. An ill-conducted, careless woman gets simply no chance. + An ill-conducted, careless man is never allowed within arm's length of + any woman worth knowing. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. I see. You are neither a Bohemian woman nor a Puritan woman. You + are a dangerous woman. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. On the contrary, I am a safe woman. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. You are a most accursedly attractive woman. Mind, I am not + making love to you. I do not like being attracted. But you had better + know how I feel if you are going to stay here. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You are an exceedingly clever lady-killer, Hector. And + terribly handsome. I am quite a good player, myself, at that game. Is it + quite understood that we are only playing? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Quite. I am deliberately playing the fool, out of sheer + worthlessness. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [rising brightly]. Well, you are my brother-in-law, + Hesione asked you to kiss me. [He seizes her in his arms and kisses her + strenuously]. Oh! that was a little more than play, brother-in-law. [She + pushes him suddenly away]. You shall not do that again. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. In effect, you got your claws deeper into me than I intended. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUBHABYE [coming in from the garden]. Don't let me disturb you; I + only want a cap to put on daddiest. The sun is setting; and he'll catch + cold [she makes for the door leading to the hall]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Your husband is quite charming, darling. He has actually + condescended to kiss me at last. I shall go into the garden: it's cooler + now [she goes out by the port door]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Take care, dear child. I don't believe any man can kiss + Addy without falling in love with her. [She goes into the hall]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [striking himself on the chest]. Fool! Goat! + </p> + <p> + Mrs Hushabye comes back with the captain's cap. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Your sister is an extremely enterprising old girl. Where's Miss + Dunn! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Mangan says she has gone up to her room for a nap. Addy + won't let you talk to Ellie: she has marked you for her own. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. She has the diabolical family fascination. I began making love + to her automatically. What am I to do? I can't fall in love; and I can't + hurt a woman's feelings by telling her so when she falls in love with + me. And as women are always falling in love with my moustache I get + landed in all sorts of tedious and terrifying flirtations in which I'm + not a bit in earnest. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, neither is Addy. She has never been in love in her + life, though she has always been trying to fall in head over ears. She + is worse than you, because you had one real go at least, with me. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. That was a confounded madness. I can't believe that such an + amazing experience is common. It has left its mark on me. I believe that + is why I have never been able to repeat it. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [laughing and caressing his arm]. We were frightfully in + love with one another, Hector. It was such an enchanting dream that I + have never been able to grudge it to you or anyone else since. I have + invited all sorts of pretty women to the house on the chance of giving + you another turn. But it has never come off. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. I don't know that I want it to come off. It was damned + dangerous. You fascinated me; but I loved you; so it was heaven. This + sister of yours fascinates me; but I hate her; so it is hell. I shall + kill her if she persists. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HUSHABYE. Nothing will kill Addy; she is as strong as a horse. + [Releasing him]. Now I am going off to fascinate somebody. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. The Foreign Office toff? Randall? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Goodness gracious, no! Why should I fascinate him? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. I presume you don't mean the bloated capitalist, Mangan? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Hm! I think he had better be fascinated by me than by + Ellie. [She is going into the garden when the captain comes in from it + with some sticks in his hand]. What have you got there, daddiest? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Dynamite. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You've been to the gravel pit. Don't drop it about the + house, there's a dear. [She goes into the garden, where the evening + light is now very red]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Listen, O sage. How long dare you concentrate on a feeling + without risking having it fixed in your consciousness all the rest of + your life? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Ninety minutes. An hour and a half. [He goes into the + pantry]. + </p> + <p> + Hector, left alone, contracts his brows, and falls into a day-dream. He + does not move for some time. Then he folds his arms. Then, throwing his + hands behind him, and gripping one with the other, he strides tragically + once to and fro. Suddenly he snatches his walking stick from the teak + table, and draws it; for it is a swordstick. He fights a desperate duel + with an imaginary antagonist, and after many vicissitudes runs him + through the body up to the hilt. He sheathes his sword and throws it on + the sofa, falling into another reverie as he does so. He looks straight + into the eyes of an imaginary woman; seizes her by the arms; and says in + a deep and thrilling tone, "Do you love me!" The captain comes out of + the pantry at this moment; and Hector, caught with his arms stretched + out and his fists clenched, has to account for his attitude by going + through a series of gymnastic exercises. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. That sort of strength is no good. You will never be as + strong as a gorilla. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. What is the dynamite for? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. To kill fellows like Mangan. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. No use. They will always be able to buy more dynamite than you. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I will make a dynamite that he cannot explode. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. And that you can, eh? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Yes: when I have attained the seventh degree of + concentration. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. What's the use of that? You never do attain it. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What then is to be done? Are we to be kept forever in + the mud by these hogs to whom the universe is nothing but a machine for + greasing their bristles and filling their snouts? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Are Mangan's bristles worse than Randall's lovelocks? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER,. We must win powers of life and death over them both. + I refuse to die until I have invented the means. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Who are we that we should judge them? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What are they that they should judge us? Yet they do, + unhesitatingly. There is enmity between our seed and their seed. They + know it and act on it, strangling our souls. They believe in themselves. + When we believe in ourselves, we shall kill them. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. It is the same seed. You forget that your pirate has a very nice + daughter. Mangan's son may be a Plato: Randall's a Shelley. What was my + father? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. The damnedst scoundrel I ever met. [He replaces the + drawing-board; sits down at the table; and begins to mix a wash of + color]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Precisely. Well, dare you kill his innocent grandchildren? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. They are mine also. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Just so—we are members one of another. [He throws himself + carelessly on the sofa]. I tell you I have often thought of this killing + of human vermin. Many men have thought of it. Decent men are like Daniel + in the lion's den: their survival is a miracle; and they do not always + survive. We live among the Mangans and Randalls and Billie Dunns as + they, poor devils, live among the disease germs and the doctors and the + lawyers and the parsons and the restaurant chefs and the tradesmen and + the servants and all the rest of the parasites and blackmailers. What + are our terrors to theirs? Give me the power to kill them; and I'll + spare them in sheer— + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [cutting in sharply]. Fellow feeling? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. No. I should kill myself if I believed that. I must believe that + my spark, small as it is, is divine, and that the red light over their + door is hell fire. I should spare them in simple magnanimous pity. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You can't spare them until you have the power to kill + them. At present they have the power to kill you. There are millions of + blacks over the water for them to train and let loose on us. They're + going to do it. They're doing it already. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. They are too stupid to use their power. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [throwing down his brush and coming to the end of the + sofa]. Do not deceive yourself: they do use it. We kill the better half + of ourselves every day to propitiate them. The knowledge that these + people are there to render all our aspirations barren prevents us having + the aspirations. And when we are tempted to seek their destruction they + bring forth demons to delude us, disguised as pretty daughters, and + singers and poets and the like, for whose sake we spare them. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [sitting up and leaning towards him]. May not Hesione be such a + demon, brought forth by you lest I should slay you? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. That is possible. She has used you up, and left you + nothing but dreams, as some women do. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Vampire women, demon women. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Men think the world well lost for them, and lose it + accordingly. Who are the men that do things? The husbands of the shrew + and of the drunkard, the men with the thorn in the flesh. [Walking + distractedly away towards the pantry]. I must think these things out. + [Turning suddenly]. But I go on with the dynamite none the less. I will + discover a ray mightier than any X-ray: a mind ray that will explode the + ammunition in the belt of my adversary before he can point his gun at + me. And I must hurry. I am old: I have no time to waste in talk [he is + about to go into the pantry, and Hector is making for the hall, when + Hesione comes back]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Daddiest, you and Hector must come and help me to + entertain all these people. What on earth were you shouting about? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [stopping in the act of turning the door handle]. He is madder + than usual. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. We all are. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. I must change [he resumes his door opening]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Stop, stop. Come back, both of you. Come back. [They + return, reluctantly]. Money is running short. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Money! Where are my April dividends? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Where is the snow that fell last year? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Where is all the money you had for that patent + lifeboat I invented? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Five hundred pounds; and I have made it last since Easter! + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Since Easter! Barely four months! Monstrous + extravagance! I could live for seven years on 500 pounds. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Not keeping open house as we do here, daddiest. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Only 500 pounds for that lifeboat! I got twelve + thousand for the invention before that. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Yes, dear; but that was for the ship with the magnetic + keel that sucked up submarines. Living at the rate we do, you cannot + afford life-saving inventions. Can't you think of something that will + murder half Europe at one bang? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No. I am ageing fast. My mind does not dwell on + slaughter as it did when I was a boy. Why doesn't your husband invent + something? He does nothing but tell lies to women. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Well, that is a form of invention, is it not? However, you are + right: I ought to support my wife. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Indeed you shall do nothing of the sort: I should never + see you from breakfast to dinner. I want my husband. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [bitterly]. I might as well be your lapdog. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Do you want to be my breadwinner, like the other poor + husbands? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. No, by thunder! What a damned creature a husband is anyhow! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [to the captain]. What about that harpoon cannon? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No use. It kills whales, not men. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Why not? You fire the harpoon out of a cannon. It sticks + in the enemy's general; you wind him in; and there you are. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. You are your father's daughter, Hesione. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. There is something in it. Not to wind in generals: + they are not dangerous. But one could fire a grapnel and wind in a + machine gun or even a tank. I will think it out. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [squeezing the captain's arm affectionately]. Saved! You + are a darling, daddiest. Now we must go back to these dreadful people + and entertain them. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. They have had no dinner. Don't forget that. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Neither have I. And it is dark: it must be all hours. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, Guinness will produce some sort of dinner for them. + The servants always take jolly good care that there is food in the + house. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [raising a strange wail in the darkness]. What a house! + What a daughter! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [raving]. What a father! + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [following suit]. What a husband! + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Is there no thunder in heaven? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Is there no beauty, no bravery, on earth? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What do men want? They have their food, their firesides, + their clothes mended, and our love at the end of the day. Why are they + not satisfied? Why do they envy us the pain with which we bring them + into the world, and make strange dangers and torments for themselves to + be even with us? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [weirdly chanting]. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I builded a house for my daughters, and opened the doors + thereof, + That men might come for their choosing, and their betters + spring from their love; + But one of them married a numskull; +</pre> + <p> + HECTOR [taking up the rhythm]. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The other a liar wed; +</pre> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [completing the stanza]. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + And now must she lie beside him, even as she made her bed. +</pre> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [calling from the garden]. Hesione! Hesione! Where are + you? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. The cat is on the tiles. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Coming, darling, coming [she goes quickly into the + garden]. + </p> + <p> + The captain goes back to his place at the table. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [going out into the hall]. Shall I turn up the lights for you? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No. Give me deeper darkness. Money is not made in the + light. + </p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT II + </h2> + <p> + The same room, with the lights turned up and the curtains drawn. Ellie + comes in, followed by Mangan. Both are dressed for dinner. She strolls + to the drawing-table. He comes between the table and the wicker chair. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. What a dinner! I don't call it a dinner: I call it a meal. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I am accustomed to meals, Mr Mangan, and very lucky to get them. + Besides, the captain cooked some maccaroni for me. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [shuddering liverishly]. Too rich: I can't eat such things. I + suppose it's because I have to work so much with my brain. That's the + worst of being a man of business: you are always thinking, thinking, + thinking. By the way, now that we are alone, may I take the opportunity + to come to a little understanding with you? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [settling into the draughtsman's seat]. Certainly. I should like + to. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [taken aback]. Should you? That surprises me; for I thought I + noticed this afternoon that you avoided me all you could. Not for the + first time either. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I was very tired and upset. I wasn't used to the ways of this + extraordinary house. Please forgive me. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Oh, that's all right: I don't mind. But Captain Shotover has + been talking to me about you. You and me, you know. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [interested]. The captain! What did he say? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Well, he noticed the difference between our ages. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. He notices everything. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. You don't mind, then? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Of course I know quite well that our engagement— + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Oh! you call it an engagement. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Well, isn't it? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Oh, yes, yes: no doubt it is if you hold to it. This is the + first time you've used the word; and I didn't quite know where we stood: + that's all. [He sits down in the wicker chair; and resigns himself to + allow her to lead the conversation]. You were saying—? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Was I? I forget. Tell me. Do you like this part of the country? I + heard you ask Mr Hushabye at dinner whether there are any nice houses to + let down here. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I like the place. The air suits me. I shouldn't be surprised if + I settled down here. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Nothing would please me better. The air suits me too. And I want + to be near Hesione. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [with growing uneasiness]. The air may suit us; but the question + is, should we suit one another? Have you thought about that? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Mr Mangan, we must be sensible, mustn't we? It's no use + pretending that we are Romeo and Juliet. But we can get on very well + together if we choose to make the best of it. Your kindness of heart + will make it easy for me. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [leaning forward, with the beginning of something like deliberate + unpleasantness in his voice]. Kindness of heart, eh? I ruined your + father, didn't I? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, not intentionally. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Yes I did. Ruined him on purpose. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. On purpose! + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Not out of ill-nature, you know. And you'll admit that I kept a + job for him when I had finished with him. But business is business; and + I ruined him as a matter of business. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I don't understand how that can be. Are you trying to make me + feel that I need not be grateful to you, so that I may choose freely? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [rising aggressively]. No. I mean what I say. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. But how could it possibly do you any good to ruin my father? The + money he lost was yours. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [with a sour laugh]. Was mine! It is mine, Miss Ellie, and all + the money the other fellows lost too. [He shoves his hands into his + pockets and shows his teeth]. I just smoked them out like a hive of + bees. What do you say to that? A bit of shock, eh? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. It would have been, this morning. Now! you can't think how little + it matters. But it's quite interesting. Only, you must explain it to me. + I don't understand it. [Propping her elbows on the drawingboard and her + chin on her hands, she composes herself to listen with a combination of + conscious curiosity with unconscious contempt which provokes him to more + and more unpleasantness, and an attempt at patronage of her ignorance]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Of course you don't understand: what do you know about business? + You just listen and learn. Your father's business was a new business; + and I don't start new businesses: I let other fellows start them. They + put all their money and their friends' money into starting them. They + wear out their souls and bodies trying to make a success of them. + They're what you call enthusiasts. But the first dead lift of the thing + is too much for them; and they haven't enough financial experience. In a + year or so they have either to let the whole show go bust, or sell out + to a new lot of fellows for a few deferred ordinary shares: that is, if + they're lucky enough to get anything at all. As likely as not the very + same thing happens to the new lot. They put in more money and a couple + of years' more work; and then perhaps they have to sell out to a third + lot. If it's really a big thing the third lot will have to sell out too, + and leave their work and their money behind them. And that's where the + real business man comes in: where I come in. But I'm cleverer than some: + I don't mind dropping a little money to start the process. I took your + father's measure. I saw that he had a sound idea, and that he would work + himself silly for it if he got the chance. I saw that he was a child in + business, and was dead certain to outrun his expenses and be in too + great a hurry to wait for his market. I knew that the surest way to ruin + a man who doesn't know how to handle money is to give him some. I + explained my idea to some friends in the city, and they found the money; + for I take no risks in ideas, even when they're my own. Your father and + the friends that ventured their money with him were no more to me than a + heap of squeezed lemons. You've been wasting your gratitude: my kind + heart is all rot. I'm sick of it. When I see your father beaming at me + with his moist, grateful eyes, regularly wallowing in gratitude, I + sometimes feel I must tell him the truth or burst. What stops me is that + I know he wouldn't believe me. He'd think it was my modesty, as you did + just now. He'd think anything rather than the truth, which is that he's + a blamed fool, and I am a man that knows how to take care of himself. + [He throws himself back into the big chair with large self approval]. + Now what do you think of me, Miss Ellie? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [dropping her hands]. How strange! that my mother, who knew + nothing at all about business, should have been quite right about you! + She always said not before papa, of course, but to us children—that + you were just that sort of man. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [sitting up, much hurt]. Oh! did she? And yet she'd have let you + marry me. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Well, you see, Mr Mangan, my mother married a very good man—for + whatever you may think of my father as a man of business, he is the soul + of goodness—and she is not at all keen on my doing the same. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Anyhow, you don't want to marry me now, do you? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. [very calmly]. Oh, I think so. Why not? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. [rising aghast]. Why not! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I don't see why we shouldn't get on very well together. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Well, but look here, you know—[he stops, quite at a loss]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. [patiently]. Well? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Well, I thought you were rather particular about people's + characters. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. If we women were particular about men's characters, we should + never get married at all, Mr Mangan. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. A child like you talking of "we women"! What next! You're not in + earnest? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Yes, I am. Aren't you? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. You mean to hold me to it? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Do you wish to back out of it? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Oh, no. Not exactly back out of it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Well? + </p> + <p> + He has nothing to say. With a long whispered whistle, he drops into the + wicker chair and stares before him like a beggared gambler. But a + cunning look soon comes into his face. He leans over towards her on his + right elbow, and speaks in a low steady voice. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Suppose I told you I was in love with another woman! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [echoing him]. Suppose I told you I was in love with another man! + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [bouncing angrily out of his chair]. I'm not joking. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Who told you I was? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I tell you I'm serious. You're too young to be serious; but + you'll have to believe me. I want to be near your friend Mrs Hushabye. + I'm in love with her. Now the murder's out. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I want to be near your friend Mr Hushabye. I'm in love with him. + [She rises and adds with a frank air] Now we are in one another's + confidence, we shall be real friends. Thank you for telling me. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [almost beside himself]. Do you think I'll be made a convenience + of like this? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Come, Mr Mangan! you made a business convenience of my father. + Well, a woman's business is marriage. Why shouldn't I make a domestic + convenience of you? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Because I don't choose, see? Because I'm not a silly gull like + your father. That's why. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [with serene contempt]. You are not good enough to clean my + father's boots, Mr Mangan; and I am paying you a great compliment in + condescending to make a convenience of you, as you call it. Of course + you are free to throw over our engagement if you like; but, if you do, + you'll never enter Hesione's house again: I will take care of that. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [gasping]. You little devil, you've done me. [On the point of + collapsing into the big chair again he recovers himself]. Wait a bit, + though: you're not so cute as you think. You can't beat Boss Mangan as + easy as that. Suppose I go straight to Mrs Hushabye and tell her that + you're in love with her husband. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. She knows it. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. You told her!!! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. She told me. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [clutching at his bursting temples]. Oh, this is a crazy house. + Or else I'm going clean off my chump. Is she making a swop with you—she + to have your husband and you to have hers? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Well, you don't want us both, do you? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [throwing himself into the chair distractedly]. My brain won't + stand it. My head's going to split. Help! Help me to hold it. Quick: + hold it: squeeze it. Save me. [Ellie comes behind his chair; clasps his + head hard for a moment; then begins to draw her hands from his forehead + back to his ears]. Thank you. [Drowsily]. That's very refreshing. + [Waking a little]. Don't you hypnotize me, though. I've seen men made + fools of by hypnotism. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [steadily]. Be quiet. I've seen men made fools of without + hypnotism. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [humbly]. You don't dislike touching me, I hope. You never + touched me before, I noticed. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Not since you fell in love naturally with a grown-up nice woman, + who will never expect you to make love to her. And I will never expect + him to make love to me. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. He may, though. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [making her passes rhythmically]. Hush. Go to sleep. Do you hear? + You are to go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep; be quiet, deeply + deeply quiet; sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep. + </p> + <p> + He falls asleep. Ellie steals away; turns the light out; and goes into + the garden. + </p> + <p> + Nurse Guinness opens the door and is seen in the light which comes in + from the hall. + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS [speaking to someone outside]. Mr Mangan's not here, duckie: + there's no one here. It's all dark. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [without]. Try the garden. Mr Dunn and I will be in my + boudoir. Show him the way. + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. Yes, ducky. [She makes for the garden door in the dark; + stumbles over the sleeping Mangan and screams]. Ahoo! O Lord, Sir! I beg + your pardon, I'm sure: I didn't see you in the dark. Who is it? [She + goes back to the door and turns on the light]. Oh, Mr Mangan, sir, I + hope I haven't hurt you plumping into your lap like that. [Coming to + him]. I was looking for you, sir. Mrs Hushabye says will you please + [noticing that he remains quite insensible]. Oh, my good Lord, I hope I + haven't killed him. Sir! Mr Mangan! Sir! [She shakes him; and he is + rolling inertly off the chair on the floor when she holds him up and + props him against the cushion]. Miss Hessy! Miss Hessy! quick, doty + darling. Miss Hessy! [Mrs Hushabye comes in from the hall, followed by + Mazzini Dunn]. Oh, Miss Hessy, I've been and killed him. + </p> + <p> + Mazzini runs round the back of the chair to Mangan's right hand, and + sees that the nurse's words are apparently only too true. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. What tempted you to commit such a crime, woman? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [trying not to laugh]. Do you mean, you did it on purpose? + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. Now is it likely I'd kill any man on purpose? I fell over him + in the dark; and I'm a pretty tidy weight. He never spoke nor moved + until I shook him; and then he would have dropped dead on the floor. + Isn't it tiresome? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [going past the nurse to Mangan's side, and inspecting him + less credulously than Mazzini]. Nonsense! he is not dead: he is only + asleep. I can see him breathing. + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. But why won't he wake? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [speaking very politely into Mangan's ear]. Mangan! My dear + Mangan! [he blows into Mangan's ear]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. That's no good [she shakes him vigorously]. Mr Mangan, + wake up. Do you hear? [He begins to roll over]. Oh! Nurse, nurse: he's + falling: help me. + </p> + <p> + Nurse Guinness rushes to the rescue. With Mazzini's assistance, Mangan + is propped safely up again. + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS [behind the chair; bending over to test the case with her + nose]. Would he be drunk, do you think, pet? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Had he any of papa's rum? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. It can't be that: he is most abstemious. I am afraid he drank + too much formerly, and has to drink too little now. You know, Mrs + Hushabye, I really think he has been hypnotized. + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. Hip no what, sir? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. One evening at home, after we had seen a hypnotizing + performance, the children began playing at it; and Ellie stroked my + head. I assure you I went off dead asleep; and they had to send for a + professional to wake me up after I had slept eighteen hours. They had to + carry me upstairs; and as the poor children were not very strong, they + let me slip; and I rolled right down the whole flight and never woke up. + [Mrs Hushabye splutters]. Oh, you may laugh, Mrs Hushabye; but I might + have been killed. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I couldn't have helped laughing even if you had been, Mr + Dunn. So Ellie has hypnotized him. What fun! + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh no, no, no. It was such a terrible lesson to her: nothing + would induce her to try such a thing again. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Then who did it? I didn't. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I thought perhaps the captain might have done it + unintentionally. He is so fearfully magnetic: I feel vibrations whenever + he comes close to me. + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. The captain will get him out of it anyhow, sir: I'll back him + for that. I'll go fetch him [she makes for the pantry]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Wait a bit. [To Mazzini]. You say he is all right for + eighteen hours? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Well, I was asleep for eighteen hours. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Were you any the worse for it? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I don't quite remember. They had poured brandy down my throat, + you see; and— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Quite. Anyhow, you survived. Nurse, darling: go and ask + Miss Dunn to come to us here. Say I want to speak to her particularly. + You will find her with Mr Hushabye probably. + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. I think not, ducky: Miss Addy is with him. But I'll find her + and send her to you. [She goes out into the garden]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [calling Mazzini's attention to the figure on the chair]. + Now, Mr Dunn, look. Just look. Look hard. Do you still intend to + sacrifice your daughter to that thing? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [troubled]. You have completely upset me, Mrs Hushabye, by all + you have said to me. That anyone could imagine that I—I, a + consecrated soldier of freedom, if I may say so—could sacrifice + Ellie to anybody or anyone, or that I should ever have dreamed of + forcing her inclinations in any way, is a most painful blow to my—well, + I suppose you would say to my good opinion of myself. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [rather stolidly]. Sorry. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [looking forlornly at the body]. What is your objection to poor + Mangan, Mrs Hushabye? He looks all right to me. But then I am so + accustomed to him. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Have you no heart? Have you no sense? Look at the brute! + Think of poor weak innocent Ellie in the clutches of this slavedriver, + who spends his life making thousands of rough violent workmen bend to + his will and sweat for him: a man accustomed to have great masses of + iron beaten into shape for him by steam-hammers! to fight with women and + girls over a halfpenny an hour ruthlessly! a captain of industry, I + think you call him, don't you? Are you going to fling your delicate, + sweet, helpless child into such a beast's claws just because he will + keep her in an expensive house and make her wear diamonds to show how + rich he is? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [staring at her in wide-eyed amazement]. Bless you, dear Mrs + Hushabye, what romantic ideas of business you have! Poor dear Mangan + isn't a bit like that. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [scornfully]. Poor dear Mangan indeed! + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. But he doesn't know anything about machinery. He never goes + near the men: he couldn't manage them: he is afraid of them. I never can + get him to take the least interest in the works: he hardly knows more + about them than you do. People are cruelly unjust to Mangan: they think + he is all rugged strength just because his manners are bad. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Do you mean to tell me he isn't strong enough to crush + poor little Ellie? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Of course it's very hard to say how any marriage will turn out; + but speaking for myself, I should say that he won't have a dog's chance + against Ellie. You know, Ellie has remarkable strength of character. I + think it is because I taught her to like Shakespeare when she was very + young. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [contemptuously]. Shakespeare! The next thing you will tell + me is that you could have made a great deal more money than Mangan. [She + retires to the sofa, and sits down at the port end of it in the worst of + humors]. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [following her and taking the other end]. No: I'm no good at + making money. I don't care enough for it, somehow. I'm not ambitious! + that must be it. Mangan is wonderful about money: he thinks of nothing + else. He is so dreadfully afraid of being poor. I am always thinking of + other things: even at the works I think of the things we are doing and + not of what they cost. And the worst of it is, poor Mangan doesn't know + what to do with his money when he gets it. He is such a baby that he + doesn't know even what to eat and drink: he has ruined his liver eating + and drinking the wrong things; and now he can hardly eat at all. Ellie + will diet him splendidly. You will be surprised when you come to know + him better: he is really the most helpless of mortals. You get quite a + protective feeling towards him. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Then who manages his business, pray? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I do. And of course other people like me. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Footling people, you mean. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I suppose you'd think us so. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. And pray why don't you do without him if you're all so + much cleverer? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh, we couldn't: we should ruin the business in a year. I've + tried; and I know. We should spend too much on everything. We should + improve the quality of the goods and make them too dear. We should be + sentimental about the hard cases among the work people. But Mangan keeps + us in order. He is down on us about every extra halfpenny. We could + never do without him. You see, he will sit up all night thinking of how + to save sixpence. Won't Ellie make him jump, though, when she takes his + house in hand! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Then the creature is a fraud even as a captain of + industry! + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I am afraid all the captains of industry are what you call + frauds, Mrs Hushabye. Of course there are some manufacturers who really + do understand their own works; but they don't make as high a rate of + profit as Mangan does. I assure you Mangan is quite a good fellow in his + way. He means well. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. He doesn't look well. He is not in his first youth, is he? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. After all, no husband is in his first youth for very long, Mrs + Hushabye. And men can't afford to marry in their first youth nowadays. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Now if I said that, it would sound witty. Why can't you + say it wittily? What on earth is the matter with you? Why don't you + inspire everybody with confidence? with respect? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [humbly]. I think that what is the matter with me is that I am + poor. You don't know what that means at home. Mind: I don't say they + have ever complained. They've all been wonderful: they've been proud of + my poverty. They've even joked about it quite often. But my wife has had + a very poor time of it. She has been quite resigned— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [shuddering involuntarily!] + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. There! You see, Mrs Hushabye. I don't want Ellie to live on + resignation. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Do you want her to have to resign herself to living with a + man she doesn't love? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [wistfully]. Are you sure that would be worse than living with a + man she did love, if he was a footling person? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [relaxing her contemptuous attitude, quite interested in + Mazzini now]. You know, I really think you must love Ellie very much; + for you become quite clever when you talk about her. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I didn't know I was so very stupid on other subjects. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You are, sometimes. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [turning his head away; for his eyes are wet]. I have learnt a + good deal about myself from you, Mrs Hushabye; and I'm afraid I shall + not be the happier for your plain speaking. But if you thought I needed + it to make me think of Ellie's happiness you were very much mistaken. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [leaning towards him kindly]. Have I been a beast? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [pulling himself together]. It doesn't matter about me, Mrs + Hushabye. I think you like Ellie; and that is enough for me. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I'm beginning to like you a little. I perfectly loathed + you at first. I thought you the most odious, self-satisfied, boresome + elderly prig I ever met. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [resigned, and now quite cheerful]. I daresay I am all that. I + never have been a favorite with gorgeous women like you. They always + frighten me. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [pleased]. Am I a gorgeous woman, Mazzini? I shall fall in + love with you presently. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [with placid gallantry]. No, you won't, Hesione. But you would + be quite safe. Would you believe it that quite a lot of women have + flirted with me because I am quite safe? But they get tired of me for + the same reason. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [mischievously]. Take care. You may not be so safe as you + think. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh yes, quite safe. You see, I have been in love really: the + sort of love that only happens once. [Softly]. That's why Ellie is such + a lovely girl. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Well, really, you are coming out. Are you quite sure you + won't let me tempt you into a second grand passion? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Quite. It wouldn't be natural. The fact is, you don't strike on + my box, Mrs Hushabye; and I certainly don't strike on yours. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I see. Your marriage was a safety match. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. What a very witty application of the expression I used! I + should never have thought of it. + </p> + <p> + Ellie comes in from the garden, looking anything but happy. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [rising]. Oh! here is Ellie at last. [She goes behind the + sofa]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [on the threshold of the starboard door]. Guinness said you wanted + me: you and papa. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You have kept us waiting so long that it almost came to—well, + never mind. Your father is a very wonderful man [she ruffles his hair + affectionately]: the only one I ever met who could resist me when I made + myself really agreeable. [She comes to the big chair, on Mangan's left]. + Come here. I have something to show you. [Ellie strolls listlessly to + the other side of the chair]. Look. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [contemplating Mangan without interest]. I know. He is only + asleep. We had a talk after dinner; and he fell asleep in the middle of + it. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You did it, Ellie. You put him asleep. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [rising quickly and coming to the back of the chair]. Oh, I hope + not. Did you, Ellie? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [wearily]. He asked me to. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. But it's dangerous. You know what happened to me. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [utterly indifferent]. Oh, I daresay I can wake him. If not, + somebody else can. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. It doesn't matter, anyhow, because I have at last + persuaded your father that you don't want to marry him. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [suddenly coming out of her listlessness, much vexed]. But why did + you do that, Hesione? I do want to marry him. I fully intend to marry + him. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Are you quite sure, Ellie? Mrs Hushabye has made me feel that I + may have been thoughtless and selfish about it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [very clearly and steadily]. Papa. When Mrs. Hushabye takes it on + herself to explain to you what I think or don't think, shut your ears + tight; and shut your eyes too. Hesione knows nothing about me: she + hasn't the least notion of the sort of person I am, and never will. I + promise you I won't do anything I don't want to do and mean to do for my + own sake. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. You are quite, quite sure? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Quite, quite sure. Now you must go away and leave me to talk to + Mrs Hushabye. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. But I should like to hear. Shall I be in the way? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [inexorable]. I had rather talk to her alone. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [affectionately]. Oh, well, I know what a nuisance parents are, + dear. I will be good and go. [He goes to the garden door]. By the way, + do you remember the address of that professional who woke me up? Don't + you think I had better telegraph to him? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [moving towards the sofa]. It's too late to telegraph + tonight. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I suppose so. I do hope he'll wake up in the course of the + night. [He goes out into the garden]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [turning vigorously on Hesione the moment her father is out of the + room]. Hesione, what the devil do you mean by making mischief with my + father about Mangan? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [promptly losing her temper]. Don't you dare speak to me + like that, you little minx. Remember that you are in my house. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Stuff! Why don't you mind your own business? What is it to you + whether I choose to marry Mangan or not? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Do you suppose you can bully me, you miserable little + matrimonial adventurer? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Every woman who hasn't any money is a matrimonial adventurer. + It's easy for you to talk: you have never known what it is to want + money; and you can pick up men as if they were daisies. I am poor and + respectable— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [interrupting]. Ho! respectable! How did you pick up + Mangan? How did you pick up my husband? You have the audacity to tell me + that I am a—a—a— + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. A siren. So you are. You were born to lead men by the nose: if + you weren't, Marcus would have waited for me, perhaps. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [suddenly melting and half laughing]. Oh, my poor Ellie, my + pettikins, my unhappy darling! I am so sorry about Hector. But what can + I do? It's not my fault: I'd give him to you if I could. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I don't blame you for that. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What a brute I was to quarrel with you and call you names! + Do kiss me and say you're not angry with me. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [fiercely]. Oh, don't slop and gush and be sentimental. Don't you + see that unless I can be hard—as hard as nails—I shall go + mad? I don't care a damn about your calling me names: do you think a + woman in my situation can feel a few hard words? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Poor little woman! Poor little situation! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I suppose you think you're being sympathetic. You are just + foolish and stupid and selfish. You see me getting a smasher right in + the face that kills a whole part of my life: the best part that can + never come again; and you think you can help me over it by a little + coaxing and kissing. When I want all the strength I can get to lean on: + something iron, something stony, I don't care how cruel it is, you go + all mushy and want to slobber over me. I'm not angry; I'm not + unfriendly; but for God's sake do pull yourself together; and don't + think that because you're on velvet and always have been, women who are + in hell can take it as easily as you. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [shrugging her shoulders]. Very well. [She sits down on the + sofa in her old place.] But I warn you that when I am neither coaxing + and kissing nor laughing, I am just wondering how much longer I can + stand living in this cruel, damnable world. You object to the siren: + well, I drop the siren. You want to rest your wounded bosom against a + grindstone. Well [folding her arms] here is the grindstone. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [sitting down beside her, appeased]. That's better: you really + have the trick of falling in with everyone's mood; but you don't + understand, because you are not the sort of woman for whom there is only + one man and only one chance. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I certainly don't understand how your marrying that object + [indicating Mangan] will console you for not being able to marry Hector. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Perhaps you don't understand why I was quite a nice girl this + morning, and am now neither a girl nor particularly nice. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, yes, I do. It's because you have made up your mind to + do something despicable and wicked. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I don't think so, Hesione. I must make the best of my ruined + house. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Pooh! You'll get over it. Your house isn't ruined. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Of course I shall get over it. You don't suppose I'm going to sit + down and die of a broken heart, I hope, or be an old maid living on a + pittance from the Sick and Indigent Roomkeepers' Association. But my + heart is broken, all the same. What I mean by that is that I know that + what has happened to me with Marcus will not happen to me ever again. In + the world for me there is Marcus and a lot of other men of whom one is + just the same as another. Well, if I can't have love, that's no reason + why I should have poverty. If Mangan has nothing else, he has money. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. And are there no YOUNG men with money? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Not within my reach. Besides, a young man would have the right to + expect love from me, and would perhaps leave me when he found I could + not give it to him. Rich young men can get rid of their wives, you know, + pretty cheaply. But this object, as you call him, can expect nothing + more from me than I am prepared to give him. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. He will be your owner, remember. If he buys you, he will + make the bargain pay him and not you. Ask your father. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [rising and strolling to the chair to contemplate their subject]. + You need not trouble on that score, Hesione. I have more to give Boss + Mangan than he has to give me: it is I who am buying him, and at a + pretty good price too, I think. Women are better at that sort of bargain + than men. I have taken the Boss's measure; and ten Boss Mangans shall + not prevent me doing far more as I please as his wife than I have ever + been able to do as a poor girl. [Stooping to the recumbent figure]. + Shall they, Boss? I think not. [She passes on to the drawing-table, and + leans against the end of it, facing the windows]. I shall not have to + spend most of my time wondering how long my gloves will last, anyhow. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [rising superbly]. Ellie, you are a wicked, sordid little + beast. And to think that I actually condescended to fascinate that + creature there to save you from him! Well, let me tell you this: if you + make this disgusting match, you will never see Hector again if I can + help it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [unmoved]. I nailed Mangan by telling him that if he did not marry + me he should never see you again [she lifts herself on her wrists and + seats herself on the end of the table]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [recoiling]. Oh! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. So you see I am not unprepared for your playing that trump + against me. Well, you just try it: that's all. I should have made a man + of Marcus, not a household pet. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [flaming]. You dare! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [looking almost dangerous]. Set him thinking about me if you dare. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Well, of all the impudent little fiends I ever met! Hector + says there is a certain point at which the only answer you can give to a + man who breaks all the rules is to knock him down. What would you say if + I were to box your ears? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [calmly]. I should pull your hair. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [mischievously]. That wouldn't hurt me. Perhaps it comes + off at night. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [so taken aback that she drops off the table and runs to her]. Oh, + you don't mean to say, Hesione, that your beautiful black hair is false? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [patting it]. Don't tell Hector. He believes in it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [groaning]. Oh! Even the hair that ensnared him false! Everything + false! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Pull it and try. Other women can snare men in their hair; + but I can swing a baby on mine. Aha! you can't do that, Goldylocks. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [heartbroken]. No. You have stolen my babies. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Pettikins, don't make me cry. You know what you said about + my making a household pet of him is a little true. Perhaps he ought to + have waited for you. Would any other woman on earth forgive you? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, what right had you to take him all for yourself! [Pulling + herself together]. There! You couldn't help it: neither of us could help + it. He couldn't help it. No, don't say anything more: I can't bear it. + Let us wake the object. [She begins stroking Mangan's head, reversing + the movement with which she put him to sleep]. Wake up, do you hear? You + are to wake up at once. Wake up, wake up, wake— + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [bouncing out of the chair in a fury and turning on them]. Wake + up! So you think I've been asleep, do you? [He kicks the chair violently + back out of his way, and gets between them]. You throw me into a trance + so that I can't move hand or foot—I might have been buried alive! + it's a mercy I wasn't—and then you think I was only asleep. If + you'd let me drop the two times you rolled me about, my nose would have + been flattened for life against the floor. But I've found you all out, + anyhow. I know the sort of people I'm among now. I've heard every word + you've said, you and your precious father, and [to Mrs Hushabye] you + too. So I'm an object, am I? I'm a thing, am I? I'm a fool that hasn't + sense enough to feed myself properly, am I? I'm afraid of the men that + would starve if it weren't for the wages I give them, am I? I'm nothing + but a disgusting old skinflint to be made a convenience of by designing + women and fool managers of my works, am I? I'm— + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [with the most elegant aplomb]. Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh! Mr Mangan, + you are bound in honor to obliterate from your mind all you heard while + you were pretending to be asleep. It was not meant for you to hear. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Pretending to be asleep! Do you think if I was only pretending + that I'd have sprawled there helpless, and listened to such unfairness, + such lies, such injustice and plotting and backbiting and slandering of + me, if I could have up and told you what I thought of you! I wonder I + didn't burst. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [sweetly]. You dreamt it all, Mr Mangan. We were only + saying how beautifully peaceful you looked in your sleep. That was all, + wasn't it, Ellie? Believe me, Mr Mangan, all those unpleasant things + came into your mind in the last half second before you woke. Ellie + rubbed your hair the wrong way; and the disagreeable sensation suggested + a disagreeable dream. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [doggedly]. I believe in dreams. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. So do I. But they go by contraries, don't they? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [depths of emotion suddenly welling up in him]. I shan't forget, + to my dying day, that when you gave me the glad eye that time in the + garden, you were making a fool of me. That was a dirty low mean thing to + do. You had no right to let me come near you if I disgusted you. It + isn't my fault if I'm old and haven't a moustache like a bronze + candlestick as your husband has. There are things no decent woman would + do to a man—like a man hitting a woman in the breast. + </p> + <p> + Hesione, utterly shamed, sits down on the sofa and covers her face with + her hands. Mangan sits down also on his chair and begins to cry like a + child. Ellie stares at them. Mrs Hushabye, at the distressing sound he + makes, takes down her hands and looks at him. She rises and runs to him. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Don't cry: I can't bear it. Have I broken your heart? I + didn't know you had one. How could I? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I'm a man, ain't I? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [half coaxing, half rallying, altogether tenderly]. Oh no: + not what I call a man. Only a Boss: just that and nothing else. What + business has a Boss with a heart? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Then you're not a bit sorry for what you did, nor ashamed? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I was ashamed for the first time in my life when you said + that about hitting a woman in the breast, and I found out what I'd done. + My very bones blushed red. You've had your revenge, Boss. Aren't you + satisfied? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Serve you right! Do you hear? Serve you right! You're just + cruel. Cruel. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Yes: cruelty would be delicious if one could only find + some sort of cruelty that didn't really hurt. By the way [sitting down + beside him on the arm of the chair], what's your name? It's not really + Boss, is it? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [shortly]. If you want to know, my name's Alfred. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [springs up]. Alfred!! Ellie, he was christened after + Tennyson!!! + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [rising]. I was christened after my uncle, and never had a penny + from him, damn him! What of it? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. It comes to me suddenly that you are a real person: that + you had a mother, like anyone else. [Putting her hands on his shoulders + and surveying him]. Little Alf! + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Well, you have a nerve. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. And you have a heart, Alfy, a whimpering little heart, but + a real one. [Releasing him suddenly]. Now run and make it up with Ellie. + She has had time to think what to say to you, which is more than I had + [she goes out quickly into the garden by the port door]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. That woman has a pair of hands that go right through you. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Still in love with her, in spite of all we said about you? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Are all women like you two? Do they never think of anything + about a man except what they can get out of him? You weren't even + thinking that about me. You were only thinking whether your gloves would + last. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I shall not have to think about that when we are married. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. And you think I am going to marry you after what I heard there! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. You heard nothing from me that I did not tell you before. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Perhaps you think I can't do without you. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I think you would feel lonely without us all, now, after coming + to know us so well. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [with something like a yell of despair]. Am I never to have the + last word? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [appearing at the starboard garden door]. There is a + soul in torment here. What is the matter? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. This girl doesn't want to spend her life wondering how long her + gloves will last. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [passing through]. Don't wear any. I never do [he goes + into the pantry]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [appearing at the port garden door, in a handsome dinner + dress]. Is anything the matter? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. This gentleman wants to know is he never to have the last word? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [coming forward to the sofa]. I should let him have it, + my dear. The important thing is not to have the last word, but to have + your own way. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. She wants both. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. She won't get them, Mr Mangan. Providence always has the + last word. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [desperately]. Now you are going to come religion over me. In + this house a man's mind might as well be a football. I'm going. [He + makes for the hall, but is stopped by a hail from the Captain, who has + just emerged from his pantry]. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Whither away, Boss Mangan? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. To hell out of this house: let that be enough for you and all + here. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You were welcome to come: you are free to go. The wide + earth, the high seas, the spacious skies are waiting for you outside. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. But your things, Mr Mangan. Your bag, your comb and + brushes, your pyjamas— + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [who has just appeared in the port doorway in a handsome Arab + costume]. Why should the escaping slave take his chains with him? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. That's right, Hushabye. Keep the pyjamas, my lady, and much good + may they do you. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [advancing to Lady Utterword's left hand]. Let us all go out into + the night and leave everything behind us. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. You stay where you are, the lot of you. I want no company, + especially female company. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Let him go. He is unhappy here. He is angry with us. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Go, Boss Mangan; and when you have found the land + where there is happiness and where there are no women, send me its + latitude and longitude; and I will join you there. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You will certainly not be comfortable without your + luggage, Mr Mangan. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [impatient]. Go, go: why don't you go? It is a heavenly night: you + can sleep on the heath. Take my waterproof to lie on: it is hanging up + in the hall. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Breakfast at nine, unless you prefer to breakfast with the + captain at six. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Good night, Alfred. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Alfred! [He runs back to the door and calls into the garden]. + Randall, Mangan's Christian name is Alfred. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [appearing in the starboard doorway in evening dress]. Then + Hesione wins her bet. + </p> + <p> + Mrs Hushabye appears in the port doorway. She throws her left arm round + Hector's neck: draws him with her to the back of the sofa: and throws + her right arm round Lady Utterword's neck. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. They wouldn't believe me, Alf. + </p> + <p> + They contemplate him. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Is there any more of you coming in to look at me, as if I was + the latest thing in a menagerie? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You are the latest thing in this menagerie. + </p> + <p> + Before Mangan can retort, a fall of furniture is heard from upstairs: + then a pistol shot, and a yell of pain. The staring group breaks up in + consternation. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI'S VOICE [from above]. Help! A burglar! Help! + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [his eyes blazing]. A burglar!!! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. No, Hector: you'll be shot [but it is too late; he has + dashed out past Mangan, who hastily moves towards the bookshelves out of + his way]. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [blowing his whistle]. All hands aloft! [He strides out + after Hector]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. My diamonds! [She follows the captain]. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [rushing after her]. No. Ariadne. Let me. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, is papa shot? [She runs out]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Are you frightened, Alf? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. No. It ain't my house, thank God. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. If they catch a burglar, shall we have to go into court as + witnesses, and be asked all sorts of questions about our private lives? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. You won't be believed if you tell the truth. + </p> + <p> + Mazzini, terribly upset, with a duelling pistol in his hand, comes from + the hall, and makes his way to the drawing-table. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh, my dear Mrs Hushabye, I might have killed him. [He throws + the pistol on the table and staggers round to the chair]. I hope you + won't believe I really intended to. + </p> + <p> + Hector comes in, marching an old and villainous looking man before him + by the collar. He plants him in the middle of the room and releases him. + </p> + <p> + Ellie follows, and immediately runs across to the back of her father's + chair and pats his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [entering with a poker]. Keep your eye on this door, Mangan. + I'll look after the other [he goes to the starboard door and stands on + guard there]. + </p> + <p> + Lady Utterword comes in after Randall, and goes between Mrs Hushabye and + Mangan. + </p> + <p> + Nurse Guinness brings up the rear, and waits near the door, on Mangan's + left. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What has happened? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Your housekeeper told me there was somebody upstairs, and gave + me a pistol that Mr Hushabye had been practising with. I thought it + would frighten him; but it went off at a touch. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Yes, and took the skin off my ear. Precious near took the + top off my head. Why don't you have a proper revolver instead of a thing + like that, that goes off if you as much as blow on it? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. One of my duelling pistols. Sorry. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. He put his hands up and said it was a fair cop. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. So it was. Send for the police. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. No, by thunder! It was not a fair cop. We were four to one. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What will they do to him? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Ten years. Beginning with solitary. Ten years off my life. + I shan't serve it all: I'm too old. It will see me out. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You should have thought of that before you stole my + diamonds. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Well, you've got them back, lady, haven't you? Can you give + me back the years of my life you are going to take from me? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, we can't bury a man alive for ten years for a few + diamonds. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Ten little shining diamonds! Ten long black years! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Think of what it is for us to be dragged through the + horrors of a criminal court, and have all our family affairs in the + papers! If you were a native, and Hastings could order you a good + beating and send you away, I shouldn't mind; but here in England there + is no real protection for any respectable person. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. I'm too old to be giv a hiding, lady. Send for the police + and have done with it. It's only just and right you should. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [who has relaxed his vigilance on seeing the burglar so + pacifically disposed, and comes forward swinging the poker between his + fingers like a well folded umbrella]. It is neither just nor right that + we should be put to a lot of inconvenience to gratify your moral + enthusiasm, my friend. You had better get out, while you have the + chance. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR [inexorably]. No. I must work my sin off my conscience. This + has come as a sort of call to me. Let me spend the rest of my life + repenting in a cell. I shall have my reward above. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [exasperated]. The very burglars can't behave naturally in this + house. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. My good sir, you must work out your salvation at somebody else's + expense. Nobody here is going to charge you. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Oh, you won't charge me, won't you? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. No. I'm sorry to be inhospitable; but will you kindly leave the + house? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Right. I'll go to the police station and give myself up. + [He turns resolutely to the door: but Hector stops him]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. + + { Oh, no. You mustn't do that. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. [speaking together] { No no. Clear out man, can't you; and + don't be a fool. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HUSHABYE + { Don't be so silly. Can't you repent at home? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You will have to do as you are told. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. It's compounding a felony, you know. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. This is utterly ridiculous. Are we to be forced to + prosecute this man when we don't want to? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Am I to be robbed of my salvation to save you the trouble + of spending a day at the sessions? Is that justice? Is it right? Is it + fair to me? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [rising and leaning across the table persuasively as if it were + a pulpit desk or a shop counter]. Come, come! let me show you how you + can turn your very crimes to account. Why not set up as a locksmith? You + must know more about locks than most honest men? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. That's true, sir. But I couldn't set up as a locksmith + under twenty pounds. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Well, you can easily steal twenty pounds. You will find it in + the nearest bank. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR [horrified]. Oh, what a thing for a gentleman to put into + the head of a poor criminal scrambling out of the bottomless pit as it + were! Oh, shame on you, sir! Oh, God forgive you! [He throws himself + into the big chair and covers his face as if in prayer]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Really, Randall! + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. It seems to me that we shall have to take up a collection for + this inopportunely contrite sinner. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. But twenty pounds is ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR [looking up quickly]. I shall have to buy a lot of tools, + lady. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Nonsense: you have your burgling kit. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. What's a jimmy and a centrebit and an acetylene welding + plant and a bunch of skeleton keys? I shall want a forge, and a smithy, + and a shop, and fittings. I can't hardly do it for twenty. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. My worthy friend, we haven't got twenty pounds. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR [now master of the situation]. You can raise it among you, + can't you? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Give him a sovereign, Hector, and get rid of him. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [giving him a pound]. There! Off with you. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR [rising and taking the money very ungratefully]. I won't + promise nothing. You have more on you than a quid: all the lot of you, I + mean. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [vigorously]. Oh, let us prosecute him and have done with + it. I have a conscience too, I hope; and I do not feel at all sure that + we have any right to let him go, especially if he is going to be greedy + and impertinent. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR [quickly]. All right, lady, all right. I've no wish to be + anything but agreeable. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen; and thank + you kindly. + </p> + <p> + He is hurrying out when he is confronted in the doorway by Captain + Shotover. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [fixing the burglar with a piercing regard]. What's + this? Are there two of you? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR [falling on his knees before the captain in abject terror]. + Oh, my good Lord, what have I done? Don't tell me it's your house I've + broken into, Captain Shotover. + </p> + <p> + The captain seizes him by the collar: drags him to his feet: and leads + him to the middle of the group, Hector falling back beside his wife to + make way for them. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [turning him towards Ellie]. Is that your daughter? [He + releases him]. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Well, how do I know, Captain? You know the sort of life you + and me has led. Any young lady of that age might be my daughter anywhere + in the wide world, as you might say. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [to Mazzini]. You are not Billy Dunn. This is Billy + Dunn. Why have you imposed on me? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR [indignantly to Mazzini]. Have you been giving yourself out + to be me? You, that nigh blew my head off! Shooting yourself, in a + manner of speaking! + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. My dear Captain Shotover, ever since I came into this house I + have done hardly anything else but assure you that I am not Mr William + Dunn, but Mazzini Dunn, a very different person. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. He don't belong to my branch, Captain. There's two sets in + the family: the thinking Dunns and the drinking Dunns, each going their + own ways. I'm a drinking Dunn: he's a thinking Dunn. But that didn't + give him any right to shoot me. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. So you've turned burglar, have you? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. No, Captain: I wouldn't disgrace our old sea calling by + such a thing. I am no burglar. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. What were you doing with my diamonds? + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. What did you break into the house for if you're no burglar? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Mistook the house for your own and came in by the wrong window, + eh? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Well, it's no use my telling you a lie: I can take in most + captains, but not Captain Shotover, because he sold himself to the devil + in Zanzibar, and can divine water, spot gold, explode a cartridge in + your pocket with a glance of his eye, and see the truth hidden in the + heart of man. But I'm no burglar. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Are you an honest man? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. I don't set up to be better than my fellow-creatures, and + never did, as you well know, Captain. But what I do is innocent and + pious. I enquire about for houses where the right sort of people live. I + work it on them same as I worked it here. I break into the house; put a + few spoons or diamonds in my pocket; make a noise; get caught; and take + up a collection. And you wouldn't believe how hard it is to get caught + when you're actually trying to. I have knocked over all the chairs in a + room without a soul paying any attention to me. In the end I have had to + walk out and leave the job. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. When that happens, do you put back the spoons and diamonds? + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Well, I don't fly in the face of Providence, if that's what + you want to know. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Guinness, you remember this man? + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. I should think I do, seeing I was married to him, the + blackguard! + </p> + <p> + HESIONE [exclaiming together] { Married to him! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD + {Guinness!! + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. It wasn't legal. I've been married to no end of women. No + use coming that over me. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Take him to the forecastle [he flings him to the door + with a strength beyond his years]. + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. I suppose you mean the kitchen. They won't have him there. Do + you expect servants to keep company with thieves and all sorts? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Land-thieves and water-thieves are the same flesh and + blood. I'll have no boatswain on my quarter-deck. Off with you both. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Yes, Captain. [He goes out humbly]. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Will it be safe to have him in the house like that? + </p> + <p> + GUINNESS. Why didn't you shoot him, sir? If I'd known who he was, I'd + have shot him myself. [She goes out]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Do sit down, everybody. [She sits down on the sofa]. + </p> + <p> + They all move except Ellie. Mazzini resumes his seat. Randall sits down + in the window-seat near the starboard door, again making a pendulum of + his poker, and studying it as Galileo might have done. Hector sits on + his left, in the middle. Mangan, forgotten, sits in the port corner. + Lady Utterword takes the big chair. Captain Shotover goes into the + pantry in deep abstraction. They all look after him: and Lady Utterword + coughs consciously. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. So Billy Dunn was poor nurse's little romance. I knew + there had been somebody. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. They will fight their battles over again and enjoy themselves + immensely. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [irritably]. You are not married; and you know nothing + about it, Randall. Hold your tongue. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Tyrant! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Well, we have had a very exciting evening. Everything will + be an anticlimax after it. We'd better all go to bed. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Another burglar may turn up. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh, impossible! I hope not. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Why not? There is more than one burglar in England. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. What do you say, Alf? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [huffily]. Oh, I don't matter. I'm forgotten. The burglar has put + my nose out of joint. Shove me into a corner and have done with me. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [jumping up mischievously, and going to him]. Would you + like a walk on the heath, Alfred? With me? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Go, Mr Mangan. It will do you good. Hesione will soothe you. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [slipping her arm under his and pulling him upright]. Come, + Alfred. There is a moon: it's like the night in Tristan and Isolde. [She + caresses his arm and draws him to the port garden door]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [writhing but yielding]. How you can have the face-the heart-[he + breaks down and is heard sobbing as she takes him out]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. What an extraordinary way to behave! What is the matter + with the man? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [in a strangely calm voice, staring into an imaginary distance]. + His heart is breaking: that is all. [The captain appears at the pantry + door, listening]. It is a curious sensation: the sort of pain that goes + mercifully beyond our powers of feeling. When your heart is broken, your + boats are burned: nothing matters any more. It is the end of happiness + and the beginning of peace. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [suddenly rising in a rage, to the astonishment of the + rest]. How dare you? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Good heavens! What's the matter? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [in a warning whisper]. Tch—tch-tch! Steady. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [surprised and haughty]. I was not addressing you particularly, + Lady Utterword. And I am not accustomed to being asked how dare I. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Of course not. Anyone can see how badly you have been + brought up. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh, I hope not, Lady Utterword. Really! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I know very well what you meant. The impudence! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. What on earth do you mean? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [advancing to the table]. She means that her heart will + not break. She has been longing all her life for someone to break it. At + last she has become afraid she has none to break. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [flinging herself on her knees and throwing her arms + round him]. Papa, don't say you think I've no heart. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [raising her with grim tenderness]. If you had no heart + how could you want to have it broken, child? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [rising with a bound]. Lady Utterword, you are not to be trusted. + You have made a scene [he runs out into the garden through the starboard + door]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Oh! Hector, Hector! [she runs out after him]. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Only nerves, I assure you. [He rises and follows her, waving + the poker in his agitation]. Ariadne! Ariadne! For God's sake, be + careful. You will—[he is gone]. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [rising]. How distressing! Can I do anything, I wonder? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [promptly taking his chair and setting to work at the + drawing-board]. No. Go to bed. Good-night. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [bewildered]. Oh! Perhaps you are right. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Good-night, dearest. [She kisses him]. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Good-night, love. [He makes for the door, but turns aside to + the bookshelves]. I'll just take a book [he takes one]. Good-night. [He + goes out, leaving Ellie alone with the captain]. + </p> + <p> + The captain is intent on his drawing. Ellie, standing sentry over his + chair, contemplates him for a moment. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Does nothing ever disturb you, Captain Shotover? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I've stood on the bridge for eighteen hours in a + typhoon. Life here is stormier; but I can stand it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Do you think I ought to marry Mr Mangan? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [never looking up]. One rock is as good as another to + be wrecked on. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I am not in love with him. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Who said you were? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. You are not surprised? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Surprised! At my age! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. It seems to me quite fair. He wants me for one thing: I want him + for another. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Money? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Yes. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Well, one turns the cheek: the other kisses it. One + provides the cash: the other spends it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Who will have the best of the bargain, I wonder? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You. These fellows live in an office all day. You will + have to put up with him from dinner to breakfast; but you will both be + asleep most of that time. All day you will be quit of him; and you will + be shopping with his money. If that is too much for you, marry a + seafaring man: you will be bothered with him only three weeks in the + year, perhaps. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. That would be best of all, I suppose. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It's a dangerous thing to be married right up to the + hilt, like my daughter's husband. The man is at home all day, like a + damned soul in hell. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I never thought of that before. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. If you're marrying for business, you can't be too + businesslike. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Why do women always want other women's husbands? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Why do horse-thieves prefer a horse that is broken-in + to one that is wild? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [with a short laugh]. I suppose so. What a vile world it is! + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It doesn't concern me. I'm nearly out of it. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. And I'm only just beginning. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Yes; so look ahead. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Well, I think I am being very prudent. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I didn't say prudent. I said look ahead. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. What's the difference? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It's prudent to gain the whole world and lose your own + soul. But don't forget that your soul sticks to you if you stick to it; + but the world has a way of slipping through your fingers. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [wearily, leaving him and beginning to wander restlessly about the + room]. I'm sorry, Captain Shotover; but it's no use talking like that to + me. Old-fashioned people are no use to me. Old-fashioned people think + you can have a soul without money. They think the less money you have, + the more soul you have. Young people nowadays know better. A soul is a + very expensive thing to keep: much more so than a motor car. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Is it? How much does your soul eat? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, a lot. It eats music and pictures and books and mountains and + lakes and beautiful things to wear and nice people to be with. In this + country you can't have them without lots of money: that is why our souls + are so horribly starved. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Mangan's soul lives on pig's food. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Yes: money is thrown away on him. I suppose his soul was starved + when he was young. But it will not be thrown away on me. It is just + because I want to save my soul that I am marrying for money. All the + women who are not fools do. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. There are other ways of getting money. Why don't you + steal it? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Because I don't want to go to prison. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Is that the only reason? Are you quite sure honesty + has nothing to do with it? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, you are very very old-fashioned, Captain. Does any modern + girl believe that the legal and illegal ways of getting money are the + honest and dishonest ways? Mangan robbed my father and my father's + friends. I should rob all the money back from Mangan if the police would + let me. As they won't, I must get it back by marrying him. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I can't argue: I'm too old: my mind is made up and + finished. All I can tell you is that, old-fashioned or new-fashioned, if + you sell yourself, you deal your soul a blow that all the books and + pictures and concerts and scenery in the world won't heal [he gets up + suddenly and makes for the pantry]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [running after him and seizing him by the sleeve]. Then why did + you sell yourself to the devil in Zanzibar? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [stopping, startled]. What? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. You shall not run away before you answer. I have found out that + trick of yours. If you sold yourself, why shouldn't I? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I had to deal with men so degraded that they wouldn't + obey me unless I swore at them and kicked them and beat them with my + fists. Foolish people took young thieves off the streets; flung them + into a training ship where they were taught to fear the cane instead of + fearing God; and thought they'd made men and sailors of them by private + subscription. I tricked these thieves into believing I'd sold myself to + the devil. It saved my soul from the kicking and swearing that was + damning me by inches. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [releasing him]. I shall pretend to sell myself to Boss Mangan to + save my soul from the poverty that is damning me by inches. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Riches will damn you ten times deeper. Riches won't + save even your body. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Old-fashioned again. We know now that the soul is the body, and + the body the soul. They tell us they are different because they want to + persuade us that we can keep our souls if we let them make slaves of our + bodies. I am afraid you are no use to me, Captain. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What did you expect? A Savior, eh? Are you + old-fashioned enough to believe in that? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. No. But I thought you were very wise, and might help me. Now I + have found you out. You pretend to be busy, and think of fine things to + say, and run in and out to surprise people by saying them, and get away + before they can answer you. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It confuses me to be answered. It discourages me. I + cannot bear men and women. I have to run away. I must run away now [he + tries to]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [again seizing his arm]. You shall not run away from me. I can + hypnotize you. You are the only person in the house I can say what I + like to. I know you are fond of me. Sit down. [She draws him to the + sofa]. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [yielding]. Take care: I am in my dotage. Old men are + dangerous: it doesn't matter to them what is going to happen to the + world. + </p> + <p> + They sit side by side on the sofa. She leans affectionately against him + with her head on his shoulder and her eyes half closed. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [dreamily]. I should have thought nothing else mattered to old + men. They can't be very interested in what is going to happen to + themselves. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. A man's interest in the world is only the overflow + from his interest in himself. When you are a child your vessel is not + yet full; so you care for nothing but your own affairs. When you grow + up, your vessel overflows; and you are a politician, a philosopher, or + an explorer and adventurer. In old age the vessel dries up: there is no + overflow: you are a child again. I can give you the memories of my + ancient wisdom: mere scraps and leavings; but I no longer really care + for anything but my own little wants and hobbies. I sit here working out + my old ideas as a means of destroying my fellow-creatures. I see my + daughters and their men living foolish lives of romance and sentiment + and snobbery. I see you, the younger generation, turning from their + romance and sentiment and snobbery to money and comfort and hard common + sense. I was ten times happier on the bridge in the typhoon, or frozen + into Arctic ice for months in darkness, than you or they have ever been. + You are looking for a rich husband. At your age I looked for hardship, + danger, horror, and death, that I might feel the life in me more + intensely. I did not let the fear of death govern my life; and my reward + was, I had my life. You are going to let the fear of poverty govern your + life; and your reward will be that you will eat, but you will not live. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [sitting up impatiently]. But what can I do? I am not a sea + captain: I can't stand on bridges in typhoons, or go slaughtering seals + and whales in Greenland's icy mountains. They won't let women be + captains. Do you want me to be a stewardess? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. There are worse lives. The stewardesses could come + ashore if they liked; but they sail and sail and sail. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. What could they do ashore but marry for money? I don't want to be + a stewardess: I am too bad a sailor. Think of something else for me. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I can't think so long and continuously. I am too old. + I must go in and out. [He tries to rise]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [pulling him back]. You shall not. You are happy here, aren't you? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I tell you it's dangerous to keep me. I can't keep + awake and alert. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. What do you run away for? To sleep? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No. To get a glass of rum. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [frightfully disillusioned]. Is that it? How disgusting! Do you + like being drunk? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No: I dread being drunk more than anything in the + world. To be drunk means to have dreams; to go soft; to be easily + pleased and deceived; to fall into the clutches of women. Drink does + that for you when you are young. But when you are old: very very old, + like me, the dreams come by themselves. You don't know how terrible that + is: you are young: you sleep at night only, and sleep soundly. But later + on you will sleep in the afternoon. Later still you will sleep even in + the morning; and you will awake tired, tired of life. You will never be + free from dozing and dreams; the dreams will steal upon your work every + ten minutes unless you can awaken yourself with rum. I drink now to keep + sober; but the dreams are conquering: rum is not what it was: I have had + ten glasses since you came; and it might be so much water. Go get me + another: Guinness knows where it is. You had better see for yourself the + horror of an old man drinking. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. You shall not drink. Dream. I like you to dream. You must never + be in the real world when we talk together. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I am too weary to resist, or too weak. I am in my + second childhood. I do not see you as you really are. I can't remember + what I really am. I feel nothing but the accursed happiness I have + dreaded all my life long: the happiness that comes as life goes, the + happiness of yielding and dreaming instead of resisting and doing, the + sweetness of the fruit that is going rotten. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. You dread it almost as much as I used to dread losing my dreams + and having to fight and do things. But that is all over for me: my + dreams are dashed to pieces. I should like to marry a very old, very + rich man. I should like to marry you. I had much rather marry you than + marry Mangan. Are you very rich? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No. Living from hand to mouth. And I have a wife + somewhere in Jamaica: a black one. My first wife. Unless she's dead. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. What a pity! I feel so happy with you. [She takes his hand, + almost unconsciously, and pats it]. I thought I should never feel happy + again. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Why? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Don't you know? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Heartbreak. I fell in love with Hector, and didn't know he was + married. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Heartbreak? Are you one of those who are so sufficient + to themselves that they are only happy when they are stripped of + everything, even of hope? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [gripping the hand]. It seems so; for I feel now as if there was + nothing I could not do, because I want nothing. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. That's the only real strength. That's genius. That's + better than rum. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [throwing away his hand]. Rum! Why did you spoil it? + </p> + <p> + Hector and Randall come in from the garden through the starboard door. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. I beg your pardon. We did not know there was anyone here. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [rising]. That means that you want to tell Mr Randall the story + about the tiger. Come, Captain: I want to talk to my father; and you had + better come with me. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [rising]. Nonsense! the man is in bed. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Aha! I've caught you. My real father has gone to bed; but the + father you gave me is in the kitchen. You knew quite well all along. + Come. [She draws him out into the garden with her through the port + door]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. That's an extraordinary girl. She has the Ancient Mariner on a + string like a Pekinese dog. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Now that they have gone, shall we have a friendly chat? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. You are in what is supposed to be my house. I am at your + disposal. + </p> + <p> + Hector sits down in the draughtsman's chair, turning it to face Randall, + who remains standing, leaning at his ease against the carpenter's bench. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. I take it that we may be quite frank. I mean about Lady + Utterword. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. You may. I have nothing to be frank about. I never met her until + this afternoon. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [straightening up]. What! But you are her sister's husband. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Well, if you come to that, you are her husband's brother. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. But you seem to be on intimate terms with her. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. So do you. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Yes: but I AM on intimate terms with her. I have known her for + years. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. It took her years to get to the same point with you that she got + to with me in five minutes, it seems. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [vexed]. Really, Ariadne is the limit [he moves away huffishly + towards the windows]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [coolly]. She is, as I remarked to Hesione, a very enterprising + woman. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [returning, much troubled]. You see, Hushabye, you are what + women consider a good-looking man. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. I cultivated that appearance in the days of my vanity; and + Hesione insists on my keeping it up. She makes me wear these ridiculous + things [indicating his Arab costume] because she thinks me absurd in + evening dress. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Still, you do keep it up, old chap. Now, I assure you I have + not an atom of jealousy in my disposition. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. The question would seem to be rather whether your brother has + any touch of that sort. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. What! Hastings! Oh, don't trouble about Hastings. He has the + gift of being able to work sixteen hours a day at the dullest detail, + and actually likes it. That gets him to the top wherever he goes. As + long as Ariadne takes care that he is fed regularly, he is only too + thankful to anyone who will keep her in good humor for him. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. And as she has all the Shotover fascination, there is plenty of + competition for the job, eh? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [angrily]. She encourages them. Her conduct is perfectly + scandalous. I assure you, my dear fellow, I haven't an atom of jealousy + in my composition; but she makes herself the talk of every place she + goes to by her thoughtlessness. It's nothing more: she doesn't really + care for the men she keeps hanging about her; but how is the world to + know that? It's not fair to Hastings. It's not fair to me. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Her theory is that her conduct is so correct + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Correct! She does nothing but make scenes from morning till + night. You be careful, old chap. She will get you into trouble: that is, + she would if she really cared for you. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Doesn't she? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Not a scrap. She may want your scalp to add to her collection; + but her true affection has been engaged years ago. You had really better + be careful. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Do you suffer much from this jealousy? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Jealousy! I jealous! My dear fellow, haven't I told you that + there is not an atom of— + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Yes. And Lady Utterword told me she never made scenes. Well, + don't waste your jealousy on my moustache. Never waste jealousy on a + real man: it is the imaginary hero that supplants us all in the long + run. Besides, jealousy does not belong to your easy man-of-the-world + pose, which you carry so well in other respects. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Really, Hushabye, I think a man may be allowed to be a + gentleman without being accused of posing. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. It is a pose like any other. In this house we know all the + poses: our game is to find out the man under the pose. The man under + your pose is apparently Ellie's favorite, Othello. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Some of your games in this house are damned annoying, let me + tell you. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Yes: I have been their victim for many years. I used to writhe + under them at first; but I became accustomed to them. At last I learned + to play them. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. If it's all the same to you I had rather you didn't play them + on me. You evidently don't quite understand my character, or my notions + of good form. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Is it your notion of good form to give away Lady Utterword? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [a childishly plaintive note breaking into his huff]. I have not + said a word against Lady Utterword. This is just the conspiracy over + again. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. What conspiracy? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. You know very well, sir. A conspiracy to make me out to be + pettish and jealous and childish and everything I am not. Everyone knows + I am just the opposite. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [rising]. Something in the air of the house has upset you. It + often does have that effect. [He goes to the garden door and calls Lady + Utterword with commanding emphasis]. Ariadne! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [at some distance]. Yes. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. What are you calling her for? I want to speak— + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [arriving breathless]. Yes. You really are a terribly + commanding person. What's the matter? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. I do not know how to manage your friend Randall. No doubt you + do. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Randall: have you been making yourself ridiculous, as + usual? I can see it in your face. Really, you are the most pettish + creature. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. You know quite well, Ariadne, that I have not an ounce of + pettishness in my disposition. I have made myself perfectly pleasant + here. I have remained absolutely cool and imperturbable in the face of a + burglar. Imperturbability is almost too strong a point of mine. But + [putting his foot down with a stamp, and walking angrily up and down the + room] I insist on being treated with a certain consideration. I will not + allow Hushabye to take liberties with me. I will not stand your + encouraging people as you do. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. The man has a rooted delusion that he is your husband. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I know. He is jealous. As if he had any right to be! He + compromises me everywhere. He makes scenes all over the place. Randall: + I will not allow it. I simply will not allow it. You had no right to + discuss me with Hector. I will not be discussed by men. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Be reasonable, Ariadne. Your fatal gift of beauty forces men to + discuss you. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Oh indeed! what about YOUR fatal gift of beauty? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. How can I help it? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You could cut off your moustache: I can't cut off my + nose. I get my whole life messed up with people falling in love with me. + And then Randall says I run after men. + </p> + RANDALL. I— + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Yes you do: you said it just now. Why can't you think of + something else than women? Napoleon was quite right when he said that + women are the occupation of the idle man. Well, if ever there was an + idle man on earth, his name is Randall Utterword. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. Ariad— + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [overwhelming him with a torrent of words]. Oh yes you + are: it's no use denying it. What have you ever done? What good are you? + You are as much trouble in the house as a child of three. You couldn't + live without your valet. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. This is— + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Laziness! You are laziness incarnate. You are + selfishness itself. You are the most uninteresting man on earth. You + can't even gossip about anything but yourself and your grievances and + your ailments and the people who have offended you. [Turning to Hector]. + Do you know what they call him, Hector? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [speaking together] { Please don't tell me. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL { I'll not stand it— + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Randall the Rotter: that is his name in good society. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [shouting]. I'll not bear it, I tell you. Will you listen to me, + you infernal—[he chokes]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Well: go on. What were you going to call me? An infernal + what? Which unpleasant animal is it to be this time? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [foaming]. There is no animal in the world so hateful as a woman + can be. You are a maddening devil. Hushabye, you will not believe me + when I tell you that I have loved this demon all my life; but God knows + I have paid for it [he sits down in the draughtsman's chair, weeping]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [standing over him with triumphant contempt]. Cry-baby! + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [gravely, coming to him]. My friend, the Shotover sisters have + two strange powers over men. They can make them love; and they can make + them cry. Thank your stars that you are not married to one of them. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [haughtily]. And pray, Hector— + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [suddenly catching her round the shoulders: swinging her right + round him and away from Randall: and gripping her throat with the other + hand]. Ariadne, if you attempt to start on me, I'll choke you: do you + hear? The cat-and-mouse game with the other sex is a good game; but I + can play your head off at it. [He throws her, not at all gently, into + the big chair, and proceeds, less fiercely but firmly]. It is true that + Napoleon said that woman is the occupation of the idle man. But he added + that she is the relaxation of the warrior. Well, I am the warrior. So + take care. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [not in the least put out, and rather pleased by his + violence]. My dear Hector, I have only done what you asked me to do. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. How do you make that out, pray? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You called me in to manage Randall, didn't you? You said + you couldn't manage him yourself. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Well, what if I did? I did not ask you to drive the man mad. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. He isn't mad. That's the way to manage him. If you were + a mother, you'd understand. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Mother! What are you up to now? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. It's quite simple. When the children got nerves and were + naughty, I smacked them just enough to give them a good cry and a + healthy nervous shock. They went to sleep and were quite good + afterwards. Well, I can't smack Randall: he is too big; so when he gets + nerves and is naughty, I just rag him till he cries. He will be all + right now. Look: he is half asleep already [which is quite true]. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [waking up indignantly]. I'm not. You are most cruel, Ariadne. + [Sentimentally]. But I suppose I must forgive you, as usual [he checks + himself in the act of yawning]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [to Hector]. Is the explanation satisfactory, dread + warrior? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Some day I shall kill you, if you go too far. I thought you were + a fool. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [laughing]. Everybody does, at first. But I am not such a + fool as I look. [She rises complacently]. Now, Randall, go to bed. You + will be a good boy in the morning. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [only very faintly rebellious]. I'll go to bed when I like. It + isn't ten yet. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. It is long past ten. See that he goes to bed at once, + Hector. [She goes into the garden]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Is there any slavery on earth viler than this slavery of men to + women? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [rising resolutely]. I'll not speak to her tomorrow. I'll not + speak to her for another week. I'll give her such a lesson. I'll go + straight to bed without bidding her good-night. [He makes for the door + leading to the hall]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. You are under a spell, man. Old Shotover sold himself to the + devil in Zanzibar. The devil gave him a black witch for a wife; and + these two demon daughters are their mystical progeny. I am tied to + Hesione's apron-string; but I'm her husband; and if I did go stark + staring mad about her, at least we became man and wife. But why should + you let yourself be dragged about and beaten by Ariadne as a toy donkey + is dragged about and beaten by a child? What do you get by it? Are you + her lover? + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. You must not misunderstand me. In a higher sense—in a + Platonic sense— + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Psha! Platonic sense! She makes you her servant; and when + pay-day comes round, she bilks you: that is what you mean. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [feebly]. Well, if I don't mind, I don't see what business it is + of yours. Besides, I tell you I am going to punish her. You shall see: I + know how to deal with women. I'm really very sleepy. Say good-night to + Mrs Hushabye for me, will you, like a good chap. Good-night. [He hurries + out]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Poor wretch! Oh women! women! women! [He lifts his fists in + invocation to heaven]. Fall. Fall and crush. [He goes out into the + garden]. + </p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT III + </h2> + <p> + In the garden, Hector, as he comes out through the glass door of the + poop, finds Lady Utterword lying voluptuously in the hammock on the east + side of the flagstaff, in the circle of light cast by the electric arc, + which is like a moon in its opal globe. Beneath the head of the hammock, + a campstool. On the other side of the flagstaff, on the long garden + seat, Captain Shotover is asleep, with Ellie beside him, leaning + affectionately against him on his right hand. On his left is a deck + chair. Behind them in the gloom, Hesione is strolling about with Mangan. + It is a fine still night, moonless. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. What a lovely night! It seems made for us. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. The night takes no interest in us. What are we to the night? [He + sits down moodily in the deck chair]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [dreamily, nestling against the captain]. Its beauty soaks into my + nerves. In the night there is peace for the old and hope for the young. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Is that remark your own? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. No. Only the last thing the captain said before he went to sleep. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I'm not asleep. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Randall is. Also Mr Mazzini Dunn. Mangan, too, probably. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. No. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Oh, you are there. I thought Hesione would have sent you to bed + by this time. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [coming to the back of the garden seat, into the light, + with Mangan]. I think I shall. He keeps telling me he has a presentiment + that he is going to die. I never met a man so greedy for sympathy. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [plaintively]. But I have a presentiment. I really have. And you + wouldn't listen. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. I was listening for something else. There was a sort of + splendid drumming in the sky. Did none of you hear it? It came from a + distance and then died away. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I tell you it was a train. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. And I tell you, Alf, there is no train at this hour. The + last is nine forty-five. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. But a goods train. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Not on our little line. They tack a truck on to the + passenger train. What can it have been, Hector? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Heaven's threatening growl of disgust at us useless futile + creatures. [Fiercely]. I tell you, one of two things must happen. Either + out of that darkness some new creation will come to supplant us as we + have supplanted the animals, or the heavens will fall in thunder and + destroy us. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [in a cool instructive manner, wallowing comfortably in + her hammock]. We have not supplanted the animals, Hector. Why do you ask + heaven to destroy this house, which could be made quite comfortable if + Hesione had any notion of how to live? Don't you know what is wrong with + it? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. We are wrong with it. There is no sense in us. We are useless, + dangerous, and ought to be abolished. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Nonsense! Hastings told me the very first day he came + here, nearly twenty-four years ago, what is wrong with the house. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What! The numskull said there was something wrong with + my house! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I said Hastings said it; and he is not in the least a + numskull. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What's wrong with my house? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Just what is wrong with a ship, papa. Wasn't it clever + of Hastings to see that? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. The man's a fool. There's nothing wrong with a ship. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Yes, there is. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. But what is it? Don't be aggravating, Addy. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Guess. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Demons. Daughters of the witch of Zanzibar. Demons. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Not a bit. I assure you, all this house needs to make it + a sensible, healthy, pleasant house, with good appetites and sound sleep + in it, is horses. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Horses! What rubbish! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Yes: horses. Why have we never been able to let this + house? Because there are no proper stables. Go anywhere in England where + there are natural, wholesome, contented, and really nice English people; + and what do you always find? That the stables are the real centre of the + household; and that if any visitor wants to play the piano the whole + room has to be upset before it can be opened, there are so many things + piled on it. I never lived until I learned to ride; and I shall never + ride really well because I didn't begin as a child. There are only two + classes in good society in England: the equestrian classes and the + neurotic classes. It isn't mere convention: everybody can see that the + people who hunt are the right people and the people who don't are the + wrong ones. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. There is some truth in this. My ship made a man of me; + and a ship is the horse of the sea. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Exactly how Hastings explained your being a gentleman. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Not bad for a numskull. Bring the man here with you + next time: I must talk to him. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Why is Randall such an obvious rotter? He is well bred; + he has been at a public school and a university; he has been in the + Foreign Office; he knows the best people and has lived all his life + among them. Why is he so unsatisfactory, so contemptible? Why can't he + get a valet to stay with him longer than a few months? Just because he + is too lazy and pleasure-loving to hunt and shoot. He strums the piano, + and sketches, and runs after married women, and reads literary books and + poems. He actually plays the flute; but I never let him bring it into my + house. If he would only—[she is interrupted by the melancholy + strains of a flute coming from an open window above. She raises herself + indignantly in the hammock]. Randall, you have not gone to bed. Have you + been listening? [The flute replies pertly]. How vulgar! Go to bed + instantly, Randall: how dare you? [The window is slammed down. She + subsides]. How can anyone care for such a creature! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Addy: do you think Ellie ought to marry poor Alfred merely + for his money? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [much alarmed]. What's that? Mrs Hushabye, are my affairs to be + discussed like this before everybody? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I don't think Randall is listening now. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Everybody is listening. It isn't right. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. But in the dark, what does it matter? Ellie doesn't mind. + Do you, Ellie? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Not in the least. What is your opinion, Lady Utterword? You have + so much good sense. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. But it isn't right. It—[Mrs Hushabye puts her hand on his + mouth]. Oh, very well. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. How much money have you, Mr. Mangan? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Really—No: I can't stand this. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Nonsense, Mr Mangan! It all turns on your income, + doesn't it? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Well, if you come to that, how much money has she? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. None. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You are answered, Mr Mangan. And now, as you have made + Miss Dunn throw her cards on the table, you cannot refuse to show your + own. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Come, Alf! out with it! How much? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [baited out of all prudence]. Well, if you want to know, I have + no money and never had any. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Alfred, you mustn't tell naughty stories. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I'm not telling you stories. I'm telling you the raw truth. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Then what do you live on, Mr Mangan? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Travelling expenses. And a trifle of commission. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What more have any of us but travelling expenses for + our life's journey? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. But you have factories and capital and things? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. People think I have. People think I'm an industrial Napoleon. + That's why Miss Ellie wants to marry me. But I tell you I have nothing. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Do you mean that the factories are like Marcus's tigers? That + they don't exist? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. They exist all right enough. But they're not mine. They belong + to syndicates and shareholders and all sorts of lazy good-for-nothing + capitalists. I get money from such people to start the factories. I find + people like Miss Dunn's father to work them, and keep a tight hand so as + to make them pay. Of course I make them keep me going pretty well; but + it's a dog's life; and I don't own anything. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Alfred, Alfred, you are making a poor mouth of it to get + out of marrying Ellie. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I'm telling the truth about my money for the first time in my + life; and it's the first time my word has ever been doubted. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. How sad! Why don't you go in for politics, Mr Mangan? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Go in for politics! Where have you been living? I am in + politics. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I'm sure I beg your pardon. I never heard of you. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Let me tell you, Lady Utterword, that the Prime Minister of this + country asked me to join the Government without even going through the + nonsense of an election, as the dictator of a great public department. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. As a Conservative or a Liberal? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. No such nonsense. As a practical business man. [They all burst + out laughing]. What are you all laughing at? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHARYE. Oh, Alfred, Alfred! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. You! who have to get my father to do everything for you! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You! who are afraid of your own workmen! + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. You! with whom three women have been playing cat and mouse all + the evening! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You must have given an immense sum to the party funds, + Mr Mangan. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Not a penny out of my own pocket. The syndicate found the money: + they knew how useful I should be to them in the Government. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. This is most interesting and unexpected, Mr Mangan. And + what have your administrative achievements been, so far? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Achievements? Well, I don't know what you call achievements; but + I've jolly well put a stop to the games of the other fellows in the + other departments. Every man of them thought he was going to save the + country all by himself, and do me out of the credit and out of my chance + of a title. I took good care that if they wouldn't let me do it they + shouldn't do it themselves either. I may not know anything about my own + machinery; but I know how to stick a ramrod into the other fellow's. And + now they all look the biggest fools going. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. And in heaven's name, what do you look like? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I look like the fellow that was too clever for all the others, + don't I? If that isn't a triumph of practical business, what is? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Is this England, or is it a madhouse? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Do you expect to save the country, Mr Mangan? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Well, who else will? Will your Mr Randall save it? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Randall the rotter! Certainly not. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Will your brother-in-law save it with his moustache and his fine + talk? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Yes, if they will let me. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [sneering]. Ah! Will they let you? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. No. They prefer you. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Very well then, as you're in a world where I'm appreciated and + you're not, you'd best be civil to me, hadn't you? Who else is there but + me? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. There is Hastings. Get rid of your ridiculous sham + democracy; and give Hastings the necessary powers, and a good supply of + bamboo to bring the British native to his senses: he will save the + country with the greatest ease. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It had better be lost. Any fool can govern with a + stick in his hand. I could govern that way. It is not God's way. The man + is a numskull. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. The man is worth all of you rolled into one. What do you + say, Miss Dunn? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I think my father would do very well if people did not put upon + him and cheat him and despise him because he is so good. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [contemptuously]. I think I see Mazzini Dunn getting into + parliament or pushing his way into the Government. We've not come to + that yet, thank God! What do you say, Mrs Hushabye? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, I say it matters very little which of you governs the + country so long as we govern you. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. We? Who is we, pray? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. The devil's granddaughters, dear. The lovely women. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [raising his hands as before]. Fall, I say, and deliver us from + the lures of Satan! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. There seems to be nothing real in the world except my father and + Shakespeare. Marcus's tigers are false; Mr Mangan's millions are false; + there is nothing really strong and true about Hesione but her beautiful + black hair; and Lady Utterword's is too pretty to be real. The one thing + that was left to me was the Captain's seventh degree of concentration; + and that turns out to be— + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Rum. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [placidly]. A good deal of my hair is quite genuine. The + Duchess of Dithering offered me fifty guineas for this [touching her + forehead] under the impression that it was a transformation; but it is + all natural except the color. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [wildly]. Look here: I'm going to take off all my clothes [he + begins tearing off his coat]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. [in consternation] { Mr. Mangan! + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER { What's that? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. { Ha! Ha! Do. Do. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE { Please don't. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [catching his arm and stopping him]. Alfred, for shame! Are + you mad? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Shame! What shame is there in this house? Let's all strip stark + naked. We may as well do the thing thoroughly when we're about it. We've + stripped ourselves morally naked: well, let us strip ourselves + physically naked as well, and see how we like it. I tell you I can't + bear this. I was brought up to be respectable. I don't mind the women + dyeing their hair and the men drinking: it's human nature. But it's not + human nature to tell everybody about it. Every time one of you opens + your mouth I go like this [he cowers as if to avoid a missile], afraid + of what will come next. How are we to have any self-respect if we don't + keep it up that we're better than we really are? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I quite sympathize with you, Mr Mangan. I have been + through it all; and I know by experience that men and women are delicate + plants and must be cultivated under glass. Our family habit of throwing + stones in all directions and letting the air in is not only unbearably + rude, but positively dangerous. Still, there is no use catching physical + colds as well as moral ones; so please keep your clothes on. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I'll do as I like: not what you tell me. Am I a child or a grown + man? I won't stand this mothering tyranny. I'll go back to the city, + where I'm respected and made much of. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Goodbye, Alf. Think of us sometimes in the city. Think of + Ellie's youth! + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Think of Hesione's eyes and hair! + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Think of this garden in which you are not a dog + barking to keep the truth out! + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Think of Lady Utterword's beauty! her good sense! her style! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Flatterer. Think, Mr. Mangan, whether you can really do + any better for yourself elsewhere: that is the essential point, isn't + it? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [surrendering]. All right: all right. I'm done. Have it your own + way. Only let me alone. I don't know whether I'm on my head or my heels + when you all start on me like this. I'll stay. I'll marry her. I'll do + anything for a quiet life. Are you satisfied now? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. No. I never really intended to make you marry me, Mr Mangan. + Never in the depths of my soul. I only wanted to feel my strength: to + know that you could not escape if I chose to take you. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [indignantly]. What! Do you mean to say you are going to throw me + over after my acting so handsome? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I should not be too hasty, Miss Dunn. You can throw Mr + Mangan over at any time up to the last moment. Very few men in his + position go bankrupt. You can live very comfortably on his reputation + for immense wealth. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I cannot commit bigamy, Lady Utterword. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. { Bigamy! Whatever on earth are you talking about, Ellie? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [exclaiming altogether] { Bigamy! What do you mean, Miss + Dunn? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN { Bigamy! Do you mean to say you're married already? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR { Bigamy! This is some enigma. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Only half an hour ago I became Captain Shotover's white wife. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Ellie! What nonsense! Where? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. In heaven, where all true marriages are made. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Really, Miss Dunn! Really, papa! + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. He told me I was too old! And him a mummy! + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [quoting Shelley]. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Their altar the grassy earth outspreads + And their priest the muttering wind." +</pre> + <p> + ELLIE. Yes: I, Ellie Dunn, give my broken heart and my strong sound soul + to its natural captain, my spiritual husband and second father. + </p> + <p> + She draws the captain's arm through hers, and pats his hand. The captain + remains fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, that's very clever of you, pettikins. Very clever. + Alfred, you could never have lived up to Ellie. You must be content with + a little share of me. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [snifflng and wiping his eyes]. It isn't kind—[his emotion + chokes him]. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You are well out of it, Mr Mangan. Miss Dunn is the most + conceited young woman I have met since I came back to England. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, Ellie isn't conceited. Are you, pettikins? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I know my strength now, Hesione. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Brazen, I call you. Brazen. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Tut, tut, Alfred: don't be rude. Don't you feel how lovely + this marriage night is, made in heaven? Aren't you happy, you and + Hector? Open your eyes: Addy and Ellie look beautiful enough to please + the most fastidious man: we live and love and have not a care in the + world. We women have managed all that for you. Why in the name of common + sense do you go on as if you were two miserable wretches? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I tell you happiness is no good. You can be happy when + you are only half alive. I am happier now I am half dead than ever I was + in my prime. But there is no blessing on my happiness. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [her face lighting up]. Life with a blessing! that is what I want. + Now I know the real reason why I couldn't marry Mr Mangan: there would + be no blessing on our marriage. There is a blessing on my broken heart. + There is a blessing on your beauty, Hesione. There is a blessing on your + father's spirit. Even on the lies of Marcus there is a blessing; but on + Mr Mangan's money there is none. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. I don't understand a word of that. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Neither do I. But I know it means something. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Don't say there was any difficulty about the blessing. I was + ready to get a bishop to marry us. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Isn't he a fool, pettikins? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [fiercely]. Do not scorn the man. We are all fools. + </p> + <p> + Mazzini, in pyjamas and a richly colored silk dressing gown, comes from + the house, on Lady Utterword's side. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh! here comes the only man who ever resisted me. What's + the matter, Mr Dunn? Is the house on fire? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh, no: nothing's the matter: but really it's impossible to go + to sleep with such an interesting conversation going on under one's + window, and on such a beautiful night too. I just had to come down and + join you all. What has it all been about? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, wonderful things, soldier of freedom. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. For example, Mangan, as a practical business man, has tried to + undress himself and has failed ignominiously; whilst you, as an + idealist, have succeeded brilliantly. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I hope you don't mind my being like this, Mrs Hushabye. [He + sits down on the campstool]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. On the contrary, I could wish you always like that. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Your daughter's match is off, Mr Dunn. It seems that Mr + Mangan, whom we all supposed to be a man of property, owns absolutely + nothing. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Well, of course I knew that, Lady Utterword. But if people + believe in him and are always giving him money, whereas they don't + believe in me and never give me any, how can I ask poor Ellie to depend + on what I can do for her? + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Don't you run away with this idea that I have nothing. I— + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Oh, don't explain. We understand. You have a couple of thousand + pounds in exchequer bills, 50,000 shares worth tenpence a dozen, and + half a dozen tabloids of cyanide of potassium to poison yourself with + when you are found out. That's the reality of your millions. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh no, no, no. He is quite honest: the businesses are genuine + and perfectly legal. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [disgusted]. Yah! Not even a great swindler! + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. So you think. But I've been too many for some honest men, for + all that. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. There is no pleasing you, Mr Mangan. You are determined + to be neither rich nor poor, honest nor dishonest. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. There you go again. Ever since I came into this silly house I + have been made to look like a fool, though I'm as good a man in this + house as in the city. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [musically]. Yes: this silly house, this strangely happy house, + this agonizing house, this house without foundations. I shall call it + Heartbreak House. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Stop, Ellie; or I shall howl like an animal. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [breaks into a low snivelling]!!! + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSAHBYE. There! you have set Alfred off. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. I like him best when he is howling. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Silence! [Mangan subsides into silence]. I say, let + the heart break in silence. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Do you accept that name for your house? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It is not my house: it is only my kennel. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. We have been too long here. We do not live in this house: we + haunt it. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [heart torn]. It is dreadful to think how you have been + here all these years while I have gone round the world. I escaped young; + but it has drawn me back. It wants to break my heart too. But it shan't. + I have left you and it behind. It was silly of me to come back. I felt + sentimental about papa and Hesione and the old place. I felt them + calling to me. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. But what a very natural and kindly and charming human feeling, + Lady Utterword! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. So I thought, Mr Dunn. But I know now that it was only + the last of my influenza. I found that I was not remembered and not + wanted. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You left because you did not want us. Was there no + heartbreak in that for your father? You tore yourself up by the roots; + and the ground healed up and brought forth fresh plants and forgot you. + What right had you to come back and probe old wounds? + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You were a complete stranger to me at first, Addy; but now + I feel as if you had never been away. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Thank you, Hesione; but the influenza is quite cured. + The place may be Heartbreak House to you, Miss Dunn, and to this + gentleman from the city who seems to have so little self-control; but to + me it is only a very ill-regulated and rather untidy villa without any + stables. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Inhabited by—? + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. A crazy old sea captain and a young singer who adores him. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. A sluttish female, trying to stave off a double chin and + an elderly spread, vainly wooing a born soldier of freedom. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh, really, Mrs Hushabye— + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. A member of His Majesty's Government that everybody sets down as + a nincompoop: don't forget him, Lady Utterword. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. And a very fascinating gentleman whose chief occupation + is to be married to my sister. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. All heartbroken imbeciles. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh no. Surely, if I may say so, rather a favorable specimen of + what is best in our English culture. You are very charming people, most + advanced, unprejudiced, frank, humane, unconventional, democratic, + free-thinking, and everything that is delightful to thoughtful people. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. You do us proud, Mazzini. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I am not flattering, really. Where else could I feel perfectly + at ease in my pyjamas? I sometimes dream that I am in very distinguished + society, and suddenly I have nothing on but my pyjamas! Sometimes I + haven't even pyjamas. And I always feel overwhelmed with confusion. But + here, I don't mind in the least: it seems quite natural. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. An infallible sign that you are now not in really + distinguished society, Mr Dunn. If you were in my house, you would feel + embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I shall take particular care to keep out of your house, Lady + Utterword. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You will be quite wrong, Mr Dunn. I should make you very + comfortable; and you would not have the trouble and anxiety of wondering + whether you should wear your purple and gold or your green and crimson + dressing-gown at dinner. You complicate life instead of simplifying it + by doing these ridiculous things. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Your house is not Heartbreak House: is it, Lady Utterword? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Yet she breaks hearts, easy as her house is. That poor devil + upstairs with his flute howls when she twists his heart, just as Mangan + howls when my wife twists his. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. That is because Randall has nothing to do but have his + heart broken. It is a change from having his head shampooed. Catch + anyone breaking Hastings' heart! + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. The numskull wins, after all. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I shall go back to my numskull with the greatest + satisfaction when I am tired of you all, clever as you are. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [huffily]. I never set up to be clever. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. I forgot you, Mr Mangan. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. Well, I don't see that quite, either. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You may not be clever, Mr Mangan; but you are + successful. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN. But I don't want to be regarded merely as a successful man. I + have an imagination like anyone else. I have a presentiment. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, you are impossible, Alfred. Here I am devoting myself + to you; and you think of nothing but your ridiculous presentiment. You + bore me. Come and talk poetry to me under the stars. [She drags him away + into the darkness]. + </p> + <p> + MANGAN [tearfully, as he disappears]. Yes: it's all very well to make + fun of me; but if you only knew— + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [impatiently]. How is all this going to end? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. It won't end, Mr Hushabye. Life doesn't end: it goes on. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Oh, it can't go on forever. I'm always expecting something. I + don't know what it is; but life must come to a point sometime. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. The point for a young woman of your age is a baby. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Yes, but, damn it, I have the same feeling; and I can't have a + baby. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. By deputy, Hector. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. But I have children. All that is over and done with for me: and + yet I too feel that this can't last. We sit here talking, and leave + everything to Mangan and to chance and to the devil. Think of the powers + of destruction that Mangan and his mutual admiration gang wield! It's + madness: it's like giving a torpedo to a badly brought up child to play + at earthquakes with. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I know. I used often to think about that when I was young. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Think! What's the good of thinking about it? Why didn't you do + something? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. But I did. I joined societies and made speeches and wrote + pamphlets. That was all I could do. But, you know, though the people in + the societies thought they knew more than Mangan, most of them wouldn't + have joined if they had known as much. You see they had never had any + money to handle or any men to manage. Every year I expected a + revolution, or some frightful smash-up: it seemed impossible that we + could blunder and muddle on any longer. But nothing happened, except, of + course, the usual poverty and crime and drink that we are used to. + Nothing ever does happen. It's amazing how well we get along, all things + considered. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Perhaps somebody cleverer than you and Mr Mangan was at + work all the time. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Perhaps so. Though I was brought up not to believe in anything, + I often feel that there is a great deal to be said for the theory of an + over-ruling Providence, after all. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. Providence! I meant Hastings. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh, I beg your pardon, Lady Utterword. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Every drunken skipper trusts to Providence. But one of + the ways of Providence with drunken skippers is to run them on the + rocks. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Very true, no doubt, at sea. But in politics, I assure you, + they only run into jellyfish. Nothing happens. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. At sea nothing happens to the sea. Nothing happens to + the sky. The sun comes up from the east and goes down to the west. The + moon grows from a sickle to an arc lamp, and comes later and later until + she is lost in the light as other things are lost in the darkness. After + the typhoon, the flying-fish glitter in the sunshine like birds. It's + amazing how they get along, all things considered. Nothing happens, + except something not worth mentioning. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. What is that, O Captain, O my captain? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [savagely]. Nothing but the smash of the drunken + skipper's ship on the rocks, the splintering of her rotten timbers, the + tearing of her rusty plates, the drowning of the crew like rats in a + trap. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Moral: don't take rum. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [vehemently]. That is a lie, child. Let a man drink ten + barrels of rum a day, he is not a drunken skipper until he is a drifting + skipper. Whilst he can lay his course and stand on his bridge and steer + it, he is no drunkard. It is the man who lies drinking in his bunk and + trusts to Providence that I call the drunken skipper, though he drank + nothing but the waters of the River Jordan. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Splendid! And you haven't had a drop for an hour. You see you + don't need it: your own spirit is not dead. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Echoes: nothing but echoes. The last shot was fired + years ago. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. And this ship that we are all in? This soul's prison we call + England? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. The captain is in his bunk, drinking bottled + ditch-water; and the crew is gambling in the forecastle. She will strike + and sink and split. Do you think the laws of God will be suspended in + favor of England because you were born in it? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Well, I don't mean to be drowned like a rat in a trap. I still + have the will to live. What am I to do? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Do? Nothing simpler. Learn your business as an + Englishman. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. And what may my business as an Englishman be, pray? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Navigation. Learn it and live; or leave it and be + damned. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Quiet, quiet: you'll tire yourself. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I thought all that once, Captain; but I assure you nothing will + happen. + </p> + <p> + A dull distant explosion is heard. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [starting up]. What was that? + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Something happening [he blows his whistle]. Breakers + ahead! + </p> + <p> + The light goes out. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [furiously]. Who put that light out? Who dared put that light + out? + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS [running in from the house to the middle of the + esplanade]. I did, sir. The police have telephoned to say we'll be + summoned if we don't put that light out: it can be seen for miles. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. It shall be seen for a hundred miles [he dashes into the house]. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. The Rectory is nothing but a heap of bricks, they say. + Unless we can give the Rector a bed he has nowhere to lay his head this + night. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. The Church is on the rocks, breaking up. I told him it + would unless it headed for God's open sea. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. And you are all to go down to the cellars. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Go there yourself, you and all the crew. Batten down + the hatches. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. And hide beside the coward I married! I'll go on the + roof first. [The lamp lights up again]. There! Mr Hushabye's turned it + on again. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR [hurrying in and appealing to Nurse Guinness]. Here: where's + the way to that gravel pit? The boot-boy says there's a cave in the + gravel pit. Them cellars is no use. Where's the gravel pit, Captain? + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. Go straight on past the flagstaff until you fall into it + and break your dirty neck. [She pushes him contemptuously towards the + flagstaff, and herself goes to the foot of the hammock and waits there, + as it were by Ariadne's cradle]. + </p> + <p> + Another and louder explosion is heard. The burglar stops and stands + trembling. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [rising]. That was nearer. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. The next one will get us. [He rises]. Stand by, all + hands, for judgment. + </p> + <p> + THE BURGLAR. Oh my Lordy God! [He rushes away frantically past the + flagstaff into the gloom]. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [emerging panting from the darkness]. Who was that running + away? [She comes to Ellie]. Did you hear the explosions? And the sound + in the sky: it's splendid: it's like an orchestra: it's like Beethoven. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. By thunder, Hesione: it is Beethoven. + </p> + <p> + She and Hesione throw themselves into one another's arms in wild + excitement. The light increases. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [anxiously]. The light is getting brighter. + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS [looking up at the house]. It's Mr Hushabye turning on + all the lights in the house and tearing down the curtains. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [rushing in in his pyjamas, distractedly waving a flute]. + Ariadne, my soul, my precious, go down to the cellars: I beg and implore + you, go down to the cellars! + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD [quite composed in her hammock]. The governor's wife in + the cellars with the servants! Really, Randall! + </p> + <p> + RANDALL. But what shall I do if you are killed? + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. You will probably be killed, too, Randall. Now play your + flute to show that you are not afraid; and be good. Play us "Keep the + home fires burning." + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS [grimly]. THEY'LL keep the home fires burning for us: + them up there. + </p> + <p> + RANDALL [having tried to play]. My lips are trembling. I can't get a + sound. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. I hope poor Mangan is safe. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. He is hiding in the cave in the gravel pit. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. My dynamite drew him there. It is the hand of God. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [returning from the house and striding across to his former + place]. There is not half light enough. We should be blazing to the + skies. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [tense with excitement]. Set fire to the house, Marcus. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. My house! No. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. I thought of that; but it would not be ready in time. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. The judgment has come. Courage will not save you; but + it will show that your souls are still live. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. Sh-sh! Listen: do you hear it now? It's magnificent. + </p> + <p> + They all turn away from the house and look up, listening. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [gravely]. Miss Dunn, you can do no good here. We of this house + are only moths flying into the candle. You had better go down to the + cellar. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [scornfully]. I don't think. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Ellie, dear, there is no disgrace in going to the cellar. An + officer would order his soldiers to take cover. Mr Hushabye is behaving + like an amateur. Mangan and the burglar are acting very sensibly; and it + is they who will survive. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE. Let them. I shall behave like an amateur. But why should you run + any risk? + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Think of the risk those poor fellows up there are running! + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS. Think of them, indeed, the murdering blackguards! What + next? + </p> + <p> + A terrific explosion shakes the earth. They reel back into their seats, + or clutch the nearest support. They hear the falling of the shattered + glass from the windows. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Is anyone hurt? + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Where did it fall? + </p> + <p> + NURSE GUINNESS [in hideous triumph]. Right in the gravel pit: I seen it. + Serve un right! I seen it [she runs away towards the gravel pit, + laughing harshly]. + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. One husband gone. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Thirty pounds of good dynamite wasted. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. Oh, poor Mangan! + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. Are you immortal that you need pity him? Our turn next. + </p> + <p> + They wait in silence and intense expectation. Hesione and Ellie hold + each other's hand tight. + </p> + <p> + A distant explosion is heard. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE [relaxing her grip]. Oh! they have passed us. + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. The danger is over, Randall. Go to bed. + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Turn in, all hands. The ship is safe. [He sits down + and goes asleep]. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [disappointedly]. Safe! + </p> + <p> + HECTOR [disgustedly]. Yes, safe. And how damnably dull the world has + become again suddenly! [he sits down]. + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI [sitting down]. I was quite wrong, after all. It is we who have + survived; and Mangan and the burglar— + </p> + <p> + HECTOR. —the two burglars— + </p> + <p> + LADY UTTERWORD. —the two practical men of business— + </p> + <p> + MAZZINI. —both gone. And the poor clergyman will have to get a new + house. + </p> + <p> + MRS HUSHABYE. But what a glorious experience! I hope they'll come again + tomorrow night. + </p> + <p> + ELLIE [radiant at the prospect]. Oh, I hope so. + </p> + <p> + Randall at last succeeds in keeping the home fires burning on his flute. + </p> + <br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Heartbreak House, by George Bernard Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HEARTBREAK HOUSE *** + +***** This file should be named 3543-h.htm or 3543-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/4/3543/ + +Produced by Eve Sobol, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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