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diff --git a/6347-h/6347-h.htm b/6347-h/6347-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..60a5f86 --- /dev/null +++ b/6347-h/6347-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6295 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!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> + Hobson's Choice, by Harold Brighouse + </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;} + .side { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hobson's Choice, by Harold Brighouse + +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: Hobson's Choice + +Author: Harold Brighouse + + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6347] +This file was first posted on November 29, 2002 +Last Updated: June 22, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOBSON'S CHOICE *** + + + + +Text file produced by Delphine Lettau, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + HOBSON'S CHOICE + </h1> + <h3> + A Lancashire Comedy in Four Acts + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Harold Brighouse + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <i>Hobson's Choice</i> was originally produced in America. Its first + English production took place on June 22, 1916, at the Apollo Theatre, + London, with the following cast: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ALICE HOBSON . . . . . . . . <i>Miss Lydia Bilbrooke</i>. + MAGGIE HOBSON . . . . . . . . <i>Miss Edyth Goodall</i>. + VICKEY HOBSON . . . . . . . . <i>Miss Hilda Davies</i>. + ALBERT PROSSER . . . . . . . . <i>Mr. Reginald Fry</i>. + HENRY HORATIO HOBSON . . . . . . <i>Mr. Norman McKinnel</i>. + MRS. HEPWORTH . . . . . . . . <i>Miss Dora Gregory</i>. + TIMOTHY WADLOW (TUBBY). . . . . . <i>Mr. Sydney Paxton</i>. + WILLIAM MOSSOP . . . . . . . . <i>Mr. Joe Nightingale</i>. + JIM HEELER . . . . . . . . . <i>Mr. J. Cooke Beresford</i>. + ADA FIGGINS . . . . . . . . . <i>Miss Mary Byron</i>. + FRED BEENSTOCK . . . . . . . . <i>Mr. Jefferson Gore</i>. + DR. MACFARLANE . . . . . . . . <i>Mr. J. Fisher White</i>. +</pre> + <p> + The play produced by MR. NORMAN McKINNEL. + </p> + <p> + <i>The</i> SCENE <i>is Salford, Lancashire, and the period is 1880</i>. + </p> + <h4> + ACT I. <i>Interior of</i> HOBSON'S <i>Shop in Chapel Street</i>. <br /> + <br /> ACT II. <i>The same scene</i>. <br /> <br /> ACT III. WILL MOSSOP'S <i>Shop</i>. + <br /><br /> ACT IV. <i>Living-room of</i> HOBSON'S <i>Shop</i>. + </h4> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> PUBLISHER'S NOTE. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>HOBSON'S CHOICE</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> ACT I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> ACT II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> ACT III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> ACT IV </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PUBLISHER'S NOTE. + </h2> + <p> + Acknowledgements are made to Mr. William Armstrong, Director of the + Liverpool Repertory Company, for allowing his prompt copy to be used in + preparing this acting edition. + </p> + <p> + {Illustration} Red Walls, Brown oaken dado. T. gas bracket over counter. + Turkey red curtains half up window. No carpet. Small rug at door R. Shoes + on counter and showcases. Hanging laces. Advertisements. Boot polishes. + Brushes. Brown paper on counter. Clogs in rows under shelves R. C. Black + cane furniture and rush-bottomed. Heavy leather armchair. Piece of rough + leather on shelves. + </p> + <p> + The trap is eminently desirable. However, should the stage used have no + trap, the work-room may be supposed to be off-stage, with a door up Right. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + HOBSON'S CHOICE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT I + </h2> + <p> + <i>The</i> SCENE <i>represents the interior of</i> HOBSON'S <i>Boot Shop + in Chapel Street, Bedford. The shop windows and entrance from street + occupy the left side. Facing the audience is the counter, with exhibits of + boots and slippers, behind which the wall is fitted with racks containing + boot boxes. Cane chairs in front of counter. There is a desk down L. with + a chair. A door R. leads up to the house. In the centre of the stage is a + trap leading to the cellar where work is done. There are no elaborate + fittings. Gas brackets in the windows and walls. The business is + prosperous, but to prosper in Salford in 1880 you did not require the + elaborate accessories of a later day. A very important customer goes for + fitting into</i> HOBSON'S <i>sitting-room. The rank and file use the cane + chairs in the shop, which is dingy but business-like. The windows exhibit + little stock, and amongst what there is clogs figure prominently. Through + the windows comes the bright light of noon.</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>Sitting behind the counter are</i> HOBSON'S <i>two younger daughters,</i> + ALICE, R., <i>who is twenty-three, and</i> VICTORIA, L., <i>who is + twenty-one, and very pretty</i>. ALICE <i>is knitting and</i> VICTORIA <i>is + reading. They are in black, with neat black aprons. The door</i> R. <i>opens, + and</i> MAGGIE <i>enters. She is</i> HOBSON'S <i>eldest daughter, thirty</i>. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Oh, it's you. I hoped it was father going out. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It isn't. (<i>She crosses and takes her place at desk</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. He <i>is</i> late this morning. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He got up late. (<i>She busies herself with an account book</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. (<i>reading</i>). Has he had breakfast yet, Maggie? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Breakfast! With a Masons' meeting last night! + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. He'll need reviving. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Then I wish he'd go and do it. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Are you expecting anyone, Alice? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Yes, I am, and you know I am, and I'll thank you both to go when he + comes. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Well, I'll oblige you, Alice, if father's gone out first, only you + know I can't leave the counter till he goes. + </p> + <p> + (ALBERT PROSSER <i>enters from the street. He is twenty-six, nicely + dressed, as the son of an established solicitor would be. He crosses to</i> + R. <i>and raises his hat to </i>ALICE.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Good morning, Miss Alice. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Good morning, Mr. Prosser. (<i>She leans across counter</i>.) + Father's not gone out yet. He's late. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Oh! (<i>He turns to go, and is half-way to door, when MAGGIE rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>coming</i> C.). What can we do for you, Mr. Prosser? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>stopping</i>). Well, I can't say that I came in to buy + anything, Miss Hobson. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. This is a shop, you know. We're not here to let people go out + without buying. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Well, I'll just have a pair of bootlaces, please. (<i>Moves + slightly to</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What size do you take in boots? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Eights. I've got small feet. (<i>He simpers, then perceives that</i> + MAGGIE <i>is by no means smiling</i>.) Does that matter to the laces? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>putting mat in front of arm-chair</i> R. C.) It matters to the + boots. (<i>She pushes him slightly</i>.) Sit down, Mr. Prosser. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>sitting in arm-chair</i> R. C.) Yes, but— + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>is on her knees and takes off his boot</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's time you had a new pair. These uppers are disgraceful for a + professional man to wear. Number eights from the third rack, Vickey, + please. + </p> + <p> + ALICE (<i>moving down a little</i>). Mr. Prosser didn't come in to buy + boots, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>comes down to</i> MAGGIE <i>with box which she opens</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I wonder what does bring him in here so often! + </p> + <p> + (ALICE <i>moves back to behind counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. I'm terrible hard on bootlaces, Miss Hobson. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>puts a new boot on him and laces it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Do you get through a pair a day? You must be strong. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. I keep a little stock of them. It's as well to be prepared for + accidents. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And now you'll have boots to go with the laces, Mr. Prosser. How + does that feel? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Very comfortable. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Try it standing up. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>trying and walking a few steps</i>). Yes, that fits all right. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'll put the other on. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Oh no, I really don't want to buy them. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>pushing him</i>). Sit down, Mr. Prosser. You can't go through + the streets in odd boots. + </p> + <p> + (ALICE <i>comes down again</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. What's the price of these? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. A pound. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. A pound! I say— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. They're good boots, and you don't need to buy a pair of laces + to-day, because we give them in as discount. (VICKEY <i>goes back to + counter</i>.) Braid laces, that is. Of course, if you want leather ones, + you being so strong in the arm and breaking so many pairs, you can have + them, only it's tuppence more. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. These—these will do. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Very well, you'd better have the old pair mended and I'll send + them home to you with the bill. (<i>She has laced the second boot, rises, + and moves towards desk</i> L., <i>throwing the boot box at</i> VICKEY, <i>who + gives a little scream at the interruption of her reading</i>. ALBERT <i>gasps</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Well, if anyone had told me I was coming in here to spend a pound + I'd have called him crazy. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's not wasted. Those boots will last. Good morning, Mr. Prosser. + (<i>She holds door open</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Good morning. (<i>He looks blankly at</i> ALICE <i>and goes out</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Maggie, we know you're a pushing sales-woman, but— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>returning to</i> R. <i>she picks up old boots and puts them on + rack up</i> R.). It'll teach him to keep out of here a bit. He's too much + time on his hands. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. You know why he comes. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I know it's time he paid a rent for coming. A pair of laces a + day's not half enough. Coming here to make sheep's eyes at you. I'm sick + of the sight of him. (<i>Crosses in front of counter to</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. It's all very well for an old maid like you to talk, but if father + won't have us go courting, where else can Albert meet me except here when + father's out? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. If he wants to marry you why doesn't he do it? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Courting must come first. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It needn't. (<i>She picks up a slipper on desk</i> L.). See that + slipper with a fancy buckle on to make it pretty? Courting's like that, my + lass. All glitter and no use to nobody. (<i>She replaces slipper and sits + at her desk</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (HENRY HORATIO HOBSON <i>enters from the house. He is fifty-five, + successful, coarse, florid, and a parent of the period. His hat is on. It + is one of those felt hats which are half-way to tall hats in shape. He has + a heavy gold chain and masonic emblems on it. His clothes are bought to + wear</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Maggie, I'm just going out for a quarter of an hour. (<i>Moves + over to doors</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes, father. Don't be late for dinner. There's liver. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. It's an hour off dinner-time. (<i>Going</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. So that, if you stay more than an hour in the Moonraker's Inn, + you'll be late for it. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. "Moonraker's?" Who said—? (<i>Turning</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. If your dinner's ruined, it'll be your own fault. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Well, I'll be eternally— + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Don't swear, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>putting hat on counter</i>). No. I'll sit down instead. (<i>He + moves to</i> R. C. <i>and sits in arm-chair</i> R. C. <i>facing them</i>.) + Listen to me, you three. I've come to conclusions about you. And I won't + have it. Do you hear that? Interfering with my goings out and comings in. + The idea! I've a mind to take measures with the lot of you. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I expect Mr. Heeler's waiting for you in "Moonraker's," father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. He can go on waiting. At present, I'm addressing a few remarks to + the rebellious females of this house, and what I say will be listened to + and heeded. I've noticed it coming on ever since your mother died. There's + been a gradual increase of uppishness towards me. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Father, you'd have more time to talk after we've closed to-night. + (<i>She is anxious to resume her reading</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm talking now, and you're listening. Providence has decreed that + you should lack a mother's hand at the time when single girls grow + bumptious and must have somebody to rule. But I'll tell you this, you'll + none rule me. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. I'm sure I'm not bumptious, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Yes, you are. You're pretty, but you're bumptious, and I hate + bumptiousness like I hate a lawyer. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. If we take trouble to feed you it's not bumptious to ask you not to + be late for your food. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Give and take, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I give and you take, and it's going to end. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. How much a week do you give us? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. That's neither here nor there. (<i>Rises and moves to doors</i> + L.) At moment I'm on uppishness, and I'm warning you your conduct towards + your parent's got to change. (<i>Turns to the counter</i>.) But that's not + all. That's private conduct, and now I pass to broader aspects and I speak + of public conduct. I've looked upon my household as they go about the + streets, and I've been disgusted. The fair name and fame of Hobson have + been outraged by members of Hobson's family, and uppishness has done it. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. I don't know what you're talking about. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Vickey, you're pretty, but you can lie like a gas-meter. Who had + new dresses on last week? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I suppose you mean Vickey and me! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I do. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. We shall dress as we like, father, and you can save your breath. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm not stopping in from my business appointment for the purpose + of saving my breath. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. You like to see me in nice clothes. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I do. I like to see my daughters nice. (<i>Crosses</i> R.) That's + why I pay Mr. Tudsbury, the draper, 10 pounds a year a head to dress you + proper. It pleases the eye and it's good for trade. But, I'll tell you, if + some women could see themselves as men see them, they'd have a shock, and + I'll have words with Tudsbury an' all, for letting you dress up like guys. + (<i>Moves</i> L.) I saw you and Alice out of the "Moonraker's" parlour on + Thursday night and my friend Sam Minns—(<i>Turns</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. A publican. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Aye, a publican. As honest a man as God Almighty ever set behind a + bar, my ladies. My friend, Sam Minns, asked me who you were. And well he + might. You were going down Chapel Street with a hump added to nature + behind you. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>scandalized</i>). Father! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. The hump was wagging, and you put your feet on pavement as if + you'd got chilblains—aye, stiff neck above and weak knees below. + It's immodest! + </p> + <p> + ALICE. It is not immodest, father. It's the fashion to wear bustles. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Then to hell with the fashion. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Father, you are not in the "Moonraker's" now. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. You should open your eyes to what other ladies wear. (<i>Rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. If what I saw on you is any guide, I should do nowt of kind. I'm a + decent-minded man. I'm Hobson. I'm British middle class and proud of it. I + stand for common sense and sincerity. You're affected, which is bad sense + and insincerity. You've overstepped nice dressing and you've tried grand + dressing—(VICKEY <i>sits</i>)—which is the occupation of fools + and such as have no brains. You forget the majesty of trade and the + unparalleled virtues of the British Constitution which are all based on + the sanity of the middle classes, combined with the diligence of the + working-classes. You're losing balance, and you're putting the things + which don't matter in front of the things which do, and if you mean to be + a factor in the world in Lancashire or a factor in the house of Hobson, + you'll become sane. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Do you want us to dress like mill girls? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. No. Nor like French Madams, neither. It's un-English, I say. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. We shall continue to dress fashionably, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Then I've a choice for you two. Vickey, you I'm talking to, and + Alice. You'll become sane if you're going on living here. You'll control + this uppishness that's growing on you. And if you don't, you'll get out of + this, and exercise your gifts on some one else than me. You don't know + when you're well off. But you'll learn it when I'm done with you. I'll + choose a pair of husbands for you, my girls. That's what I'll do. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Can't we choose husbands for ourselves? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've been telling you for the last five minutes you're not even + fit to choose dresses for yourselves. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You're talking a lot to Vickey and Alice, father. Where do I come + in? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You? (<i>Turning on her, astonished</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. If you're dealing husbands round, don't I get one? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Well, that's a good one! (<i>Laughs</i>.) You with a husband! (<i>Down + in front of desk</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Why not? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Why not? I thought you'd sense enough to know. But if you want the + brutal truth, you're past the marrying age. You're a proper old maid, + Maggie, if ever there was one. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm thirty. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>facing her</i>). Aye, thirty and shelved. Well, all the women + can't get husbands. But you others, now. I've told you. I'll have less + uppishness from you or else I'll shove you off my hands on to some other + men. You can just choose which way you like. (<i>He picks up hat and makes + for door</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. One o'clock dinner, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. See here, Maggie,—(<i>back again down to in front of desk</i>)—I + set the hours at this house. It's one o'clock dinner because I say it is, + and not because you do. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. So long as that's clear I'll go. (<i>He is by door</i>.) Oh no, I + won't. Mrs. Hepworth's getting out of her carriage. + </p> + <p> + (<i>He puts hat on counter again</i>. MAGGIE <i>rises and opens door. + Enter</i> MRS. HEPWORTH, <i>an old lady with a curt manner and good + clothes</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Good morning, Mrs. Hepworth. What a lovely day. (<i>He crosses</i> R. <i>and + places chair</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH (<i>sitting in arm-chair</i> R. C.). Morning, Hobson. (<i>She + raises her skirt</i>.) I've come about those boots you sent me home. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>kneeling on</i> MRS. HEPWORTH'S R., <i>and fondling foot</i>. + MAGGIE <i>is</i> C.). Yes, Mrs. Hepworth. They look very nice. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Get up, Hobson. (<i>He scrambles up, controlling his + feelings</i>.) You look ridiculous on the floor. Who made these boots? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. We did. Our own make. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Will you answer a plain question? Who made these boots? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. They were made on the premises. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH (<i>to</i> MAGGIE). Young woman, you seemed to have some + sense when you served me. Can you answer me? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I think so, but I'll make sure for you, Mrs. Hepworth. (<i>She + opens trap and calls</i>.) Tubby! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>down</i> R.). You wish to see the identical workman, madam? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. I said so. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I am responsible for all work turned out here. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. I never said you weren't. + </p> + <p> + (TUBBY WADLOW <i>comes up trap. A white-haired little man with thin legs + and a paunch, in dingy clothes with no collar and a coloured cotton shirt. + He has no coat on</i>.) + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Yes, Miss Maggie? (<i>He stands half out of trap, not coming right + up</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Man, did you make these boots? (<i>She rises and advances + one pace towards him</i>.) + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. No, ma'am. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Then who did? Am I to question every soul in the place + before I find out? (<i>Looking round</i>.) + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. They're Willie's making, those. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Then tell Willie I want him. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Certainly, ma'am. (<i>He goes down trap and calls</i> "Willie!") + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Who's Willie? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Name of Mossop, madam. But if there is anything wrong I assure you + I'm capable of making the man suffer for it. I'll— + </p> + <p> + (WILLIE MOSSOP <i>comes up trap. He is a lanky fellow, about thirty, not + naturally stupid but stunted mentally by a brutalized childhood. He is a + raw material of a charming man, but, at present, it requires a very keen + eye to detect his potentialities. His clothes are an even poorer edition + of</i> TUBBY'S. <i>He comes half-way up trap</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH (<i>standing</i> R. <i>of trap</i>). Are you Mossop? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Yes, mum. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. You made these boots? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>peering at them</i>). Yes, I made them last week. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Take that. + </p> + <p> + (WILLIE, <i>bending down, rather expects "that" to be a blow. Then he + raises his head and finds she is holding out a visiting card. He takes it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + See what's on it? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>bending over the card</i>). Writing? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Read it. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm trying. (<i>His lips move as he tries to spell it out</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Bless the man. Can't you read? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I do a bit. Only it's such funny print. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. It's the usual italics of a visiting card, my man. Now + listen to me. I heard about this shop, and what I heard brought me here + for these boots. I'm particular about what I put on my feet. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>moving slightly towards her</i>). I assure you it shall not + occur again, Mrs. Hepworth. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. What shan't? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>crestfallen</i>). I—I don't know. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Then hold your tongue. Mossop, I've tried every shop in + Manchester, and these are the best-made pair of boots I've ever had. Now, + you'll make my boots in future. You hear that, Hobson? + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE, <i>down</i> L. C., <i>is taking it all in</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Yes, madam, of course he shall. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. You'll keep that card, Mossop, and you won't dare leave + here to go to another shop without letting me know where you are. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Oh, he won't make a change. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. How do you know? The man's a treasure, and I expect you + underpay him. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. That'll do, Willie. You can go. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Yes, sir. + </p> + <p> + (<i>He dives down trap</i>. MAGGIE <i>closes it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. He's like a rabbit. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Can I take your order for another pair of boots, Mrs. Hepworth? + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Not yet, young woman. But I shall send my daughters here. + And, mind you, that man's to make the boots. (<i>She crosses</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. (<i>Up at doors and opening them</i>.) Certainly, Mrs. Hepworth. + </p> + <p> + MRS. HEPWORTH. Good morning. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Good morning, Mrs. Hepworth. Very glad to have the honour of + serving you, madam. (<i>Following her up</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>She goes out</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>Angry</i>.) I wish some people would mind their own business. What + does she want to praise a workman to his face for? (<i>Moves down</i> L. + <i>and then to</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I suppose he deserved it. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Deserved be blowed! Making them uppish. That's what it is. Last + time she puts her foot in my shop, I give you my word. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Don't be silly, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'll show her. Thinks she owns the earth because she lives at Hope + Hall. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Enter from street</i> JIM HEELER, <i>who is a grocer, and</i> HOBSON'S + <i>boon companion</i>.) + </p> + <p> + JIM (<i>looking down street as he enters</i>). That's a bit of a startler. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>swinging round</i>). Eh? Oh, morning, Jim. + </p> + <p> + JIM. You're doing a good class trade if the carriage folk come to you, + Hobson. (<i>Moves down</i> L. C.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. What? + </p> + <p> + JIM. Wasn't that Mrs. Hepworth? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Oh yes. Mrs. Hepworth's an old and valued customer of mine. + </p> + <p> + JIM. It's funny you deal with Hope Hall and never mentioned it. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Why, I've made boots for her and all her circle for... how long, + Maggie? Oh, I dunno. + </p> + <p> + JIM. You kept it dark. Well, aren't you coming round yonder? (<i>Moving up</i> + L.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>reaching for his hat</i>). Yes. That is, no. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Are you ill? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. No. Get away, you girls. I'll look after the shop. I want to talk + to Mr. Heeler. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Well, can't you talk in the "Moonraker's"! + </p> + <p> + (<i>The girls go out</i> R. <i>to house</i>, MAGGIE <i>last</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Yes, with Sam Minns, and Denton and Tudsbury there. + </p> + <p> + JIM. It's private, then. What's the trouble, Henry? + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>waves</i> JIM <i>into arm-chair</i> R. C. <i>and sits in front + of counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. They're the trouble. (<i>Indicates door to house</i>.) Do your + daughters worry you, Jim? + </p> + <p> + JIM. Nay,—(<i>sits</i> R. C.)—they mostly do as I bid them, + and the missus does the leathering if they don't. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Ah, Jim, a wife's a handy thing, and you don't know it proper till + she's taken from you. I felt grateful for the quiet when my Mary fell on + rest, but I can see my mistake now. I used to think I was hard put to it + to fend her off when she wanted summat out of me, but the dominion of one + woman is Paradise to the dominion of three. + </p> + <p> + JIM. It sounds a sad case, Henry. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm a talkative man by nature, Jim. You know that. + </p> + <p> + JIM. You're an orator, Henry. I doubt John Bright himself is better gifted + of the gab than you. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Nay, that's putting it a bit too strong. A good case needs no + flattery. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Well, you're the best debater in the "Moonraker's" parlour. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. And that's no more than truth. Yes, Jim, in the estimation of my + fellow men, I give forth words of weight. In the eyes of my daughters I'm + a windbag. (<i>Rises and moves down</i> L.). + </p> + <p> + JIM. Nay. Never! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I am. (<i>Turns</i>.) They scorn my wisdom, Jim. They answer back. + I'm landed in a hole—a great and undignified hole. My own daughters + have got the upper hand of me. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Women are worse than men for getting above themselves. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. A woman's foolishness begins where man's leaves off. + </p> + <p> + JIM. They want a firm hand, Henry. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've lifted up my voice and roared at them. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Beware of roaring at women, Henry. Roaring is mainly hollow sound. + It's like trying to defeat an army with banging drums instead of cold + steel. And it's steel in a man's character that subdues the women. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've tried all ways, and I'm fair moithered. I dunno what to do. (<i>Scratches + his head</i>.) + </p> + <p> + JIM. Then you quit roaring at 'em and get 'em wed. (<i>Rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've thought of that. Trouble is to find the men. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Men's common enough. Are you looking for angels in breeches? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'd like my daughters to wed temperance young men, Jim. + </p> + <p> + JIM. You keep your ambitions within reasonable limits, Henry. You've three + daughters to find husbands for. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Two, Jim, two. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Two? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Vickey and Alice are mostly window dressing in the shop. But + Maggie's too useful to part with. And she's a bit on the ripe side for + marrying, is our Maggie. + </p> + <p> + JIM. I've seen 'em do it at double her age. Still, leaving her out, you've + two. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. One'll do for a start, Jim. (<i>Crosses to</i> R.) It's a thing + I've noticed about wenches. Get one wedding in a family and it goes + through the lot like measles. (<i>Moves round chair to up</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + JIM. Well, you want a man, and you want him temperance. It'll cost you a + bit, you know. (<i>Sits in chair below</i> L. <i>side of counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>going to him</i>). Eh? Oh, I'll get my hand down for the + wedding all right. + </p> + <p> + JIM. A warm man like you 'ull have to do more than that. There's things + called settlements. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Settlements? + </p> + <p> + JIM. Aye. You've to bait your hook to catch fish, Henry. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Then I'll none go fishing. (<i>Sits</i>.) + </p> + <p> + JIM. But you said— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've changed my mind. I'd a fancy for a bit of peace, but there's + luxuries a man can buy too dear. Settlements indeed! + </p> + <p> + JIM. I had a man in mind. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You keep him there, Jim. I'll rub along and chance it. Settlements + indeed! + </p> + <p> + JIM. You save their keep. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. They work for that. And they're none of them big eaters. + </p> + <p> + JIM. And their wages. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Wages? Do you think I pay wages to my own daughters? (<i>Rises and + goes to desk</i> L.) I'm not a fool. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Then it's all off? (<i>Rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>turns</i>). From the moment that you breathed the word + "settlements" it was dead off, Jim. Let's go to the "Moonraker's" and + forget there's such a thing as women in the world. (<i>He takes up hat and + rings bell on counter</i>.) Shop! Shop! + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>enters from</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + I'm going out, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>She remains by door</i>). Dinner's at one, remember. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Dinner will be when I come in for it. I'm master here. (<i>Moves + to go</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes, father. One o'clock. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>disgusted</i>.) Come along, Jim. + </p> + <p> + (JIM <i>and</i> HOBSON <i>go out to street</i>. MAGGIE <i>turns to speak + inside</i> R. <i>door</i>.) MAGGIE. Dinner at half-past one, girls. We'll + give him half an hour. (<i>She closes door, turns arm-chair facing C. and + moves to trap, which she raises</i>.) Willie, come here. + </p> + <p> + (<i>In a moment</i> WILLIE <i>appears, and stops half-way up</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Yes, Miss Maggie? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (L. <i>of trap</i>.) Come up, and put the trap down, I want to talk + to you. + </p> + <p> + (<i>He comes, reluctantly</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. We're very busy in the cellar. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>points to trap. He closes it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Show me your hands, Willie. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. They're dirty. (<i>He holds them out hesitatingly</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes, they're dirty, but they're clever. They can shape the leather + like no other man's that ever came into the shop. Who taught you, Willie? + (<i>She retains his hands</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Why, Miss Maggie, I learnt my trade here. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Hobson's never taught you to make boots the way you do. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I've had no other teacher. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>dropping his hands</i>.) And needed none. You're a natural born + genius at making boots. It's a pity you're a natural fool at all else. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm not much good at owt but leather, and that's a fact. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. When are you going to leave Hobson's? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Leave Hobson's? I—I thought I gave satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Don't you want to leave? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Not me. I've been at Hobson's all my life, and I'm not for leaving + till I'm made. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I said you were a fool. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Then I'm a loyal fool. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Don't you want to get on, Will Mossop? You heard what Mrs. + Hepworth said. You know the wages you get and you know the wages a + bootmaker like you could get in one of the big shops in Manchester. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Nay, I'd be feared to go in them fine places. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What keeps you here? Is it the—the people? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I dunno what it is. I'm used to being here. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Do you know what keeps this business on its legs? Two things: + one's the good boots you make that sell themselves, the other's the bad + boots other people make and I sell. We're a pair, Will Mossop. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. You're a wonder in the shop, Miss Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And you're a marvel in the workshop. Well? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Well, what? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It seems to me to point one way. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. What way is that? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You're leaving me to do the work, my lad. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'll be getting back to my stool, Miss Maggie. (<i>Moves to trap</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>stopping him</i>). You'll go back when I've done with you. I've + watched you for a long time and everything I've seen, I've liked. I think + you'll do for me. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. What way, Miss Maggie? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Will Mossop, you're my man. Six months I've counted on you and + it's got to come out some time. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. But I never— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I know you never, or it 'ud not be left to me to do the job like + this. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'll—I'll sit down. (<i>He sits in arm-chair, mopping his + brow</i>.) I'm feeling queer-like. What dost want me for? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. To invest in. You're a business idea in the shape of a man. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I've got no head for business at all. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. But I have. My brain and your hands 'ull make a working + partnership. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>getting up, relieved</i>). Partnership! Oh, that's a different + thing. I thought you were axing me to wed you. (<i>Moves up stage</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I am. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>sitting in front of counter</i>). Well, by gum! And you the + master's daughter. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Maybe that's why, Will Mossop. (<i>Moving up stage</i>.) Maybe + I've had enough of father, and you're as different from him as any man I + know. (<i>Sits</i> L. <i>of him</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It's a bit awkward-like. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And you don't help me any, lad. What's awkward about it? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. You talking to me like this. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'll tell you something, Will. It's a poor sort of woman who'll + stay lazy when she sees her best chance slipping from her. A Salford + life's too near the bone to lose things through the fear of speaking out. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm your best chance? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You are that, Will. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Well, by gum! (<i>Rises</i>.) I never thought of this. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Think of it now. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I am doing. Only the blow's a bit too sudden to think very clear. + I've a great respect for you, Miss Maggie. You're a shapely body, and + you're a masterpiece at selling in the shop, but when it comes to + marrying, I'm bound to tell you that I'm none in love with you. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Wait till you're asked. (<i>Rises</i>.) I want your hand in mine + and your word for it that you'll go through life with me for the best we + can get out of it. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. We'd not get much without there's love between us, lass. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I've got the love all right. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Well, I've not, and that's honest. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. We'll get along without. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. You're desperate set on this. It's a puzzle to me all ways. What + 'ud your father say? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He'll say a lot, and he can say it. It'll make no difference to + me. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Much better not upset him. It's not worth while. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm judge of that. You're going to wed me, Will. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Oh, nay, I'm not. Really I can't do that, Maggie. I can see that + I'm disturbing your arrangements like, but I'll be obliged if you'll put + this notion from you. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. When I make arrangements, my lad, they're not made for upsetting. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. What makes it so desperate awkward is that I'm tokened. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You're what? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm tokened to Ada Figgins. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Then you'll get loose and quick. Who's Ada Figgins? Do I know her? + (<i>Moves</i> L. <i>and turns</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm the lodger at her mother's. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. The scheming hussy. It's not that sandy gill who brings your + dinner? (<i>Moves</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. She's golden-haired is Ada. Aye, she'll be here soon. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And so shall I. I'll talk to Ada. I've seen her and I know the + breed. Ada's the helpless sort. (<i>Turns</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. She needs protecting. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. That's how she got you, was it? (<i>Turns</i> C.) Yes, I can see + her clinging round your neck until you fancied you were strong. But I'll + tell you this, my lad, it's a desperate poor kind of a woman that'll look + for protection to the likes of you. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Ada does. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And that gives me the weight of her. She's born to meekness, Ada + is. You wed her, and you'll be an eighteen shilling a week bootmaker all + the days of your life. You'll be a slave, and a contented slave. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm not ambitious that I know of. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. No. But you're going to be. I'll see to that. I've got my work cut + out, but there's the makings of a man about you. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I wish you'd leave me alone. (<i>Sits</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. So does the fly when the spider catches him. You're my man, Willie + Mossop. (<i>Moves to desk</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Aye, so you say. Ada would tell another story, though. + </p> + <p> + (ADA FIGGINS <i>enters from street. She is not ridiculous, but a weak, + poor-blooded, poor-spirited girl of twenty, in clogs and shawl, with</i> + WILLIE'S <i>dinner in a basin carried in a blue handkerchief. She crosses + to him and gives him the basin</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ADA (C.). There's your dinner, Will. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Thank you, Ada. (<i>Rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>She turns to go, and finds</i> MAGGIE <i>in her way</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I want a word with you. You're treading on my foot, young woman. + </p> + <p> + ADA. Me, Miss Hobson? (<i>She looks stupidly at</i> MAGGIE'S <i>feet</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What's this with you and him? + </p> + <p> + ADA (<i>gushing</i>). Oh, Miss 'Obson, it is good of you to take notice + like that. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Ada, she— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You hold your hush. This is for me and her to settle. Take a fair + look at him, Ada. + </p> + <p> + ADA. At Will? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>nodding</i>). Not much for two women to fall out over, is + there? + </p> + <p> + ADA. Maybe he's not so much to look at, but you should hear him play. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Play? Are you a musician, Will? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I play the Jew's harp. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. That's what you see in him, is it? A gawky fellow that plays the + Jew's harp? + </p> + <p> + ADA. I see the lad I love, Miss 'Obson. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's a funny thing, but I can say the same. + </p> + <p> + ADA. You! + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. That's what I've been trying to tell you, Ada, and—and, by + gum, she'll have me from you if you don't be careful. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. So we're quits so far, Ada. + </p> + <p> + ADA. You'll pardon me. You've spoke too late. Will and me's tokened. (<i>She + takes his arm</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. That's the past. It's the future that I'm looking to. What's your + idea for that? + </p> + <p> + ADA. You mind your own business, Miss 'Obson. Will Mossop's no concern of + thine. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. That's what I try to tell her myself, only she will have it it's + no use. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Not an atom. I've asked for your idea of Willie's future. If it's + a likelier one than mine, I'll give you best and you can have the lad. + </p> + <p> + ADA. I'm trusting him to make the future right. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's as bad as I thought it was. Willie, you wed me. + </p> + <p> + ADA (<i>weakly</i>). It's daylight robbery. (<i>Moves slightly</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Aren't you going to put up a better fight for me than that, Ada? + You're fair giving me to her. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Will Mossop, you take your orders from me in this shop. I've told + you you'll wed me. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Seems like there's no escape. (<i>Sits in arm-chair</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ADA (<i>angry</i>). Wait while I get you to home, my lad. I'll set my + mother on to you. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Oh, so it's her mother made this match! + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. She had above a bit to do with it. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I've got no mother, Will. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. You need none, neither. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Well, can I sell you a pair of clogs, Miss Figgins? + </p> + <p> + ADA. No. Nor anything else. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Then you've no business here, have you? (<i>Moves up to doors and + opens them</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ADA (<i>going to him</i>). Will, are you going to see me ordered out? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It's her shop, Ada. + </p> + <p> + ADA. You mean I'm to go like this? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. She means it. + </p> + <p> + ADA. It's cruel hard. (<i>Moves towards doors</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. When it comes to a parting, it's best to part sudden and no + whimpering about it. + </p> + <p> + ADA. I'm not whimpering, and I'm not parting, neither. But he'll whimper + to-night when my mother sets about him. (<i>Slight movement back to him</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. That'll do. + </p> + <p> + ADA (<i>in almost a scream</i>). Will Mossop, I'm telling you, you'll come + home to-night to a thick ear. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She goes</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>rising</i>). I'd really rather wed Ada, Maggie, if it's all + same to you. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Why? Because of her mother? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. She's a terrible rough side to her tongue, has Mrs. Figgins. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Are you afraid of her? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>hesitates, then says</i>). Yes. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You needn't be. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Yes, but you don't know her. She'll jaw me till I'm black in the + face when I go home to-night. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You won't go home to-night. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Not go? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You've done with lodging there. You'll go to Tubby Wadlow's when + you knock off work and Tubby'll go round to Mrs. Figgins for your things. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. And I'm not to go back there never no more? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. No. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It's like an 'appy dream. Eh, Maggie, you do manage things. + </p> + <p> + (<i>He opens the trap</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And while Tubby's there you can go round and see about putting the + banns up for us two. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Banns! Oh, but I'm hardly used to the idea yet. (<i>A step down</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You'll have three weeks to get used to it in. Now you can kiss me, + Will. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. That's forcing things a bit, and all. It's like saying I agree to + everything, a kiss is. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. And I don't agree yet. I'm— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Come along. + </p> + <p> + (ALICE, <i>then</i> VICKEY <i>enter</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + Do what I tell you, Will. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Now? With them here? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>pause</i>). I couldn't. (<i>He dives for trap, runs down, and + closes it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. What's the matter with Willie? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He's a bit upset because I've told him he's to marry me. Is dinner + cooking nicely? (<i>To desk</i>, L.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. You're going to marry Willie Mossop! Willie Mossop! + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. You've kept it quiet, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You know about it pretty near as soon as Willie does himself. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Well, I don't know! + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I know, and if you're afraid to speak your thoughts, I'm not. Look + here, Maggie—(<i>moving to</i> L. C.),—what you do touches us, + and you're mistaken if you think I'll own Willie Mossop for my + brother-in-law. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Is there supposed to be some disgrace in him? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. You ask father if there's disgrace. And look at me. I'd hopes of + Albert Prosser till this happened. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You'll marry Albert Prosser when he's able, and that'll be when ho + starts spending less on laundry bills and hair cream. (<i>Goes to</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>enters from the street</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Well, what about that dinner? (<i>Comes</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>The positions are</i> MAGGIE R., VICKEY <i>up</i> R. C., HOBSON <i>up</i> + C., ALICE L. C.) MAGGIE. It'll be ready in ten minutes. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You said one o'clock. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes, father. One for half-past. If you'll wash your hands, it'll + be ready as soon as you are. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I won't wash my hands. I don't hold with such finicking ways, and + well you know it. (<i>Sits in front of counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Father, have you heard the news about our Maggie? (<i>Down</i> R. + C.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. News? There is no news. It's the same old tale. Uppishness. You'd + keep a starving man from the meat he earns in the sweat of his brow, would + you? I'll put you in your places. I'll—(<i>Rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Don't lose your temper, father. You'll maybe need it soon when + Vickey speaks. (<i>Moves down</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. What's Vickey been doing? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Nothing. It's about Will Mossop, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Will? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Yes. What's your opinion of Will? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. A decent lad. I've nowt against him that I know of. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Would you like him in the family? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Whose family? (<i>Coming down</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Yours. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm going to marry Willie, father. That's what all the fuss is + about. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Marry—you—Mossop? (<i>Moves to her</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You thought me past the marrying age. I'm not. That's all. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Didn't you hear me say I'd do the choosing when it came to a + question of husbands? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You said I was too old to get a husband. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You are. You all are. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Father! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. (<i>crossing to</i> C.) And if you're not, it makes no matter. + I'll have no husbands here. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY R., ALICE L. <i>of</i> HOBSON.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. But you said— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've changed my mind. I've learnt some things since then. There's + a lot too much expected of a father nowadays. There'll be no weddings + here. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Oh, father! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>taking them down</i>). Go and get my dinner served and talk + less. Go on now. I'm not in right temper to be crossed. + </p> + <p> + (<i>He drives</i> ALICE <i>and</i> VICKEY <i>before him. They go out + protesting loudly. But MAGGIE stands in his way as he follows and she + closes the door. She looks at him from the stair</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You and I 'ull be straight with one another, father. I'm not a + fool and you're not a fool, and things may as well be put in their places + as left untidy. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I tell you my mind's made up. You can't have Willie Mossop. Why, + lass, his father was a workhouse brat. A come-by-chance. (<i>Moves</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's news to me we're snobs in Salford. I have Willie Mossop. I've + to settle my life's course, and a good course, too, so think on. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'd be the laughing-stock of the place if I allowed it. I won't + have it, Maggie. It's hardly decent at your time of life. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm thirty and I'm marrying Willie Mossop. And now I'll tell you + my terms. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You're in a nice position to state terms, my lass. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You will pay my man, Will Mossop, the same wages as before. And as + for me, I've given you the better part of twenty years of work without + wages. I'll work eight hours a day in future and you will pay me fifteen + shillings by the week. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Do you think I'm made of brass? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You'll soon be made of less than you are if you let Willie go. And + if Willie goes, I go. That's what you've got to face. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I might face it, Maggie. Shop hands are cheap. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Cheap ones are cheap. The sort you'd have to watch all day, and + you'd feel happy helping them to tie up parcels and sell laces with + Tudsbury and Heeler and Minns supping their ale without you. I'm value to + you, so's my man; and you can boast it at the "Moonraker's" that your + daughter Maggie's made the strangest, finest match a woman's made this + fifty year. And you can put your hand in your pocket and do what I + propose. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'll show you what I propose, Maggie. (<i>He lifts trap and calls</i>.) + Will Mossop! (<i>He places hat on counter and unbuckles belt</i>.) I + cannot leather you, my lass. You're female, and exempt, but I can leather + him. Come up, Will Mossop. + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>comes up trap and closes it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + You've taken up with my Maggie, I hear. (<i>He conceals strap</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Nay, I've not. She's done the taking up. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Well, Willie, either way, you've fallen on misfortune. Love's led + you astray, and I feel bound to put you right. (<i>Shows strap</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Maggie, what's this? (<i>Moves down</i> R. <i>a little</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm watching you, my lad. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Mind, Willie, you can keep your job. I don't bear malice, but we + must beat the love from your body, and every morning you come here to work + with love still sitting in you, you'll get a leathering. (<i>Getting ready + to strike</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. You'll not beat love in me. You're making a great mistake, Mr. + Hobson, and— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You'll put aside your weakness for my Maggie if you've a liking + for a sound skin. You'll waste a gradely lot of brass at chemist's if I am + at you for a week with this. (<i>He swings the strap</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm none wanting thy Maggie, it's her that's after me, but I'll + tell you this, Mr. Hobson—(<i>seizing</i> MAGGIE <i>roughly by the + arm</i>),—if you touch me with that belt, I'll take her quick, aye, + and stick to her like glue. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. There's nobbut one answer to that kind of talk, my lad. (<i>He + strikes with belt</i>. MAGGIE <i>shrinks</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. And I've nobbut one answer back. Maggie, I've none kissed you yet. + I shirked before. But, by gum, I'll kiss you now—(<i>he kisses her + quickly, with temper, not with passion, as quickly leaves her, to face</i> + HOBSON)-and take you and hold you. And if Mr. Hobson raises up that strap + again, I'll do more. I'll walk straight out of shop with thee and us two + 'ull set up for ourselves. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Willie! I knew you had it in you, lad. (<i>She puts her arm round + his neck. He is quite unresponsive. His hands fall limply to his sides</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>stands in amazed indecision</i>.) + </p> + <h3> + CURTAIN. + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT II + </h2> + <p> + <i>A month later. The shop as Act I. It is about mid-day</i>. ALICE <i>is + in</i> MAGGIE'S <i>chair at the desk, some ledgers in front of her, and</i> + VICKEY <i>is reading behind the counter. The trap is open and</i> TUBBY <i>stands + near the desk by</i> ALICE. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I'm sure I don't know what to tell you to do, Tubby. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. There's nothing in at all to start on, Miss Alice. We're worked up. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Well, father's out and I can't help you. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. He'll play old Harry if he comes in and finds us doing nowt in the + workroom. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Then do something. We're not stopping you. (<i>Rises and moves + over to</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + TUBBY (<i>turning on her</i>). You're not telling me neither. And I'm + supposed to take my orders from the shop. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I don't know what to tell you. Nobody seems to want any boots made. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. The high-class trade has dropped like a stone this last month. Of + course we can go on making clogs for stock if you like. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Then you'd better. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. You know what's got by selling clogs won't pay the rent, let alone + wages, but if clogs are your orders, Miss Alice—(<i>He moves towards + trap</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. You suggested it. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. I made the remark. (<i>Starts going down</i>.) But I'm not a rash + man, and I'm not going to be responsible to the master with his temper so + nowty and all since Miss Maggie went. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Oh, dear! What would Miss Maggie have told you to do? + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. I couldn't tell you that, Miss, I'm sure. I don't recollect things + being as slack as this in her time. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. You don't help us much for an intelligent foreman. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. When you've told me what to do, I'll use my intelligence and see + it's done properly. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Then go and make clogs. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Them's your orders? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Yes. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Thank you, Miss Alice. + </p> + <p> + (TUBBY <i>goes down trap and closes it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE (<i>rises and moves up</i> L.). I wonder if I've done right? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. That's your look-out. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I don't care. It's father's place to be here to tell them what to + do. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Maggie used to manage without him. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Oh, yes. Go on. Blame me that the place is all at sixes and sevens. + (<i>Coming down to desk</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. I don't blame you. I know as well as you do that it's father's + fault. He ought to look after his business himself instead of wasting more + time than ever in the "Moonraker's," but you needn't be snappy with me + about it. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I'm not snappy in myself. (<i>Sitting at desk</i>.) It's these + figures. I can't get them right. What's 17 and 25? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>promptly</i>). Fifty-two, of course. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Well, it doesn't balance right. Oh, I wish I was married and out of + it. (<i>Closes book</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Same here. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. You! (<i>Rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. You needn't think you're the only one. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Well, you're sly, Vickey Hobson. You've kept it to yourself. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It's just as well now that I did. Maggie's spoilt our chances for + ever. Nobody's fretting to get Willie Mossop for a brother-in-law. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>enters, followed by</i> FREDDY BEENSTOCK <i>and then</i> WILL. + MAGGIE <i>and</i> WILL <i>are actually about to be married, but their + dress does not specially indicate it. They are not in their older clothes, + and that is all</i>. FREDDY <i>is smarter than either, though only in his + everyday dress. He is not at all a blood, but the respectable son of a + respectable tradesman, and his appearance is such as to justify his + attractiveness in</i> VICKEY'S <i>eyes</i>. WILL, <i>very shy, remains up</i> + L. C. <i>near the counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Maggie, you here! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I thought we'd just drop in. Vickey, what's this that Mr. + Beenstock's telling me about you and him? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>sullenly</i>). If he's told you I suppose you know. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY (L. <i>of counter, smilingly</i>). She got it out of me, Vickey. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. I don't know that it's any business of yours, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + (<i>The positions now are</i> VICKEY R., MAGGIE R. C., FREDDY C., WILL <i>up</i> + L. C., ALICE <i>down</i> L. C.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You'll never get no farther with it by yourselves from what I hear + of father's carryings-on. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. That's your fault. Yours and his. (<i>Moving behind counter and + indicating</i> WILLIE, <i>who is trying to efface himself at the back</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>sharply</i>). Leave that alone. I'm here to help you if you'll + have my help. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>would say "No" but—</i>) + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. It's very good of you, Miss Maggie, I must say. Your father has + turned very awkward. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I reckon he'll change. Has your young man been in yet this + morning, Alice? (<i>Moves to desk</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (FREDDY <i>moves to</i> VICKEY <i>and leaning across the counter carries + on a mild flirtation with her</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE (<i>indignantly</i>). My young— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Albert Prosser. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. No. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Do you expect him? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. He's not been here so often since you and Willie Mossop got— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>sharply</i>). Since when? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Since you made him buy that pair of boots he didn't want. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>moving</i> C.). I see. He didn't like paying for taking his + pleasure in our shop. Well, if he's not expected, somebody must go for + him. Prosser, Pilkington & Prosser, Solicitors of Bexley Square. + That's right, isn't it? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Yes. Albert's "and Prosser." + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>moving up stage</i> R.). Aye? Quite a big man in his way. Then, + will you go and fetch him, Mr. Beenstock? Tell him to bring the paper with + him. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>dropping down</i> R., <i>indignantly</i>). You're ordering folk + about a bit. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm used to it. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. It's all right, Vickey. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Is it? Suppose father comes in and finds Albert and Freddy here? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He won't. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. He's beyond his time already. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I know. You must have worried father very badly since I went, + Alice. (<i>Goes to</i> ALICE, L.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Why? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Tell them, Mr. Beenstock. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Well, the fact is, Mr. Hobson won't come because he's at our place + just now. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. At your corn warehouse? What's father doing there? + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. He's—he's sleeping, Vickey. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Sleeping? + </p> + <p> + (WILLIE <i>sits on a chair in front of the counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. You see, we've a cellar trap in our place that opens in the + pavement and your father—wasn't looking very carefully where he was + going and he fell into it. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Fell? Is father hurt? (<i>Up to</i> FREDDY.) + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. He's snoring very loudly, but he isn't hurt. He fell soft on some + bags. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Now you can go for Albert Prosser. + </p> + <p> + (FREDDY <i>moves to doors</i>. L.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Is that all we're to be told? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's all there is to tell till Freddy's seen his solicitor. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY (<i>to</i> VICKEY). I'll not be long. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Don't. I've a job here for you when you get back. + </p> + <p> + (FREDDY <i>goes out</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I don't know what you're aiming at, Maggie, but— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. The difference between us is that I do. I always did. (<i>Goes</i> + L.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>indicating</i> WILLIE). It's a queer thing you aimed at. (<i>Moves + up to behind counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>moving up to</i> WILL). I've done uncommon well myself, and + I've come here to put things straight for you. Father told you to get + married and you don't shape. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. He changed his mind. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I don't allow for folks to change their minds. He made his choice. + He said get married, and you're going to. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. You haven't made it easier for us, you know. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Meaning Willie? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It wasn't my fault, Miss Vickey, really it wasn't. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You call her Vickey, Will. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. No, he doesn't. (<i>Drops down stage</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He's in the family or going to be. And I'll tell you this. If you + want your Freddy, and if you want your Albert, you'll be respectful to my + Willie. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Willie Mossop was our boot hand. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He was, and you'll let bygones be bygones. He's as good as you are + now, and better. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Nay, come, Maggie— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Better, I say. They're shop assistants. You're your own master, + aren't you? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I've got my name wrote up on the windows, but I dunno so much + about being master. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>producing card and moving down</i> L. <i>to</i> ALICE). That's + his business card, William Mossop, Practical Boot and Shoe Maker, 39a, + Oldfield Road, Salford. William Mossop, Master Bootmaker! That's the man + you're privileged to call by his Christian name. Aye, and I'll do more for + you than let you call him in his name. You can both of you kiss him for + your brother-in-law to be. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>rising</i>). Nay, Maggie, I'm no great hand at kissing. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>and</i> ALICE <i>are much annoyed</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>dryly</i>). I've noticed that. A bit of practice will do you no + harm. Come along, Vickey. + </p> + <p> + ALICE (<i>interposing</i>). But, Maggie ... a shop of your own— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>grimly</i>). I'm waiting, Vickey. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I don't see that you ought to drive her to it, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You hold your hush. (<i>Crosses</i> R. <i>to</i> VICKEY.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. But however did you manage it? Where did the capital come from? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It came. Will, stand still. She's making up her mind to it. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'd just as lief not put her to the trouble. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You'll take your proper place in this family, my lad, trouble or + no trouble. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. I don't see why you should always get your way. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's just a habit. Come along now, Vickey, I've a lot to do to-day + and you're holding everything back. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It's under protest. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Protest, but kiss. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>goes to and kisses</i> WILL, <i>who finds he rather likes it. + She moves back</i> R., <i>then goes up to case up</i> R. <i>and starts + dusting furiously</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Your turn now, Alice. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I'll do it if you'll help me with these books, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Books? Father's put you in my place? (<i>Goes</i> L. C.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Yes. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Then he must take the consequences. Your books aren't my affair. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I think you might help me, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>glances back at</i> WILL.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm surprised at you, Alice, I really am, after what you've just + been told. Exposing your books to a rival shop. You ought to know better. + Will's waiting. And you're to kiss him hearty now. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Very well. (<i>She moves</i> C. <i>and kisses</i> WILL, <i>then + goes back</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. There's more in kissing nice young women than I thought. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Don't get too fond of it, my lad. (<i>She goes to him</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Well, I hope you're satisfied, Maggie. You've got your way again, + and now perhaps you'll tell us if there's anything you want in this shop. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Eh? Are you trying to sell me something? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I'm asking you, what's your business here? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I've told you once. Will and me's taking a day off to put you in + the way of getting wed. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>moving to back of counter</i>). It looks like things are slow + at your new shop if you can walk round in your best clothes on a working + day. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It's not a working day with us. It's a wedding-day. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. You've been married this morning! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Not us. (<i>Goes to</i> R.) I'll have my sisters there when I get + wed. It's at one o'clock at St. Philip's. (<i>Sits</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. But we can't leave the shop to come. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Why not? Is trade so brisk? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. No, but— + </p> + <p> + (WILLIE <i>sits in front of counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Not so much high-class trade doing with you, eh? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I don't see how you knew. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm good at guessing. You'll not miss owt by coming with us to + church, and we'll expect you at home to-night for a wedding-spread. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It's asking us to approve. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You have approved. You've kissed the bridegroom and you'll go + along with us. Father's safe where he is. (<i>Rises and crosses</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. And the shop? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Tubby can see to the shop. And that reminds me. You <i>can</i> + sell me something. There are some rings in that drawer there, Vickey. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Brass rings? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes. I want one. That's the size. (<i>She holds up her + wedding-ring finger and moves to the counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. That! But you're not taking it for— + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>puts box of rings on counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes, I am. Will and me aren't throwing money round, but we can pay + our way. There's fourpence for the ring. Gather it up, Vickey. (<i>Putting + down money and trying on rings</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Wedded with a brass ring! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. This one will do. It's a nice fit. Alice, you haven't entered that + sale in your book. No wonder you're worried with the accounts if that's + the way you see to them. (<i>She comes down</i> L. C. <i>and puts ring in + her bag</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I'm a bit too much astonished at you to think about accounts. A + ring out of stock! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. They're always out of some one's stock. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Well, I'd think shame to myself to be married with a ring like + that. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. When folks can't afford the best they have to do without. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. I'll take good care I never go without. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Semi-detached for you, I suppose, and a houseful of new furniture. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Haven't you furnished? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Partly what. We've made a start at the Flat Iron Market. (<i>Sits</i> + L. <i>of</i> WILLIE.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I'd stay single sooner than have other people's cast-off sticks in + my house. Where's your pride gone to, Maggie? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm not getting wed myself to help the furnishing trade along. I + suppose you'd turn your nose up at second-hand stuff, too, Vickey? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. I'd start properly or not at all. (<i>Goes to desk</i>, L.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Then you'll neither of you have any objections to my clearing out + the lumber-room upstairs. (<i>Rises</i>.) We brought a hand-cart round + with us. (<i>Nudges</i> WILL.) + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>rises and takes his coat off. He has detachable cuffs which he + places carefully on the arm-chair</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. You made sure of things. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes. Get upstairs, Will. I told you what to bring. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Wait a bit. (<i>Crosses to</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Go on. (<i>Moves</i> R. <i>slightly</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>goes into the house</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Let me tell you if you claim the furniture from your old bedroom—(<i>up + to</i> MAGGIE),—that it's my room now, and you'll not budge a stick + of it. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I expected you'd promote yourself, Alice. But I said lumber-room. + There's a two-three broken chairs in the attic and a sofa with the springs + all gone. You'll not tell me they're of any use to you. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Nor to you, neither. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Will's handy with his fingers. He'll put in this afternoon mending + them. They'll be secure against you come to sit on them at supper-time + to-night. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. And that's the way you're going to live! With cast-off furniture. + (<i>Moves to window</i>, L.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Aye. In two cellars in Oldfield Road. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY <i>and</i> ALICE. A cellar! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. <i>Two</i> of 'em, Alice. One to live and work in and the other to + sleep in. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Well, it 'ud not suit me. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Nor me. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It suits me fine. And when me and Will are richer than the lot of + you together, it'll be a grand satisfaction to look back and think about + how we were when we began. + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>appears</i> R. <i>with two crippled chairs and begins to cross + the shop</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>stopping him</i>). Just a minute, Will. (<i>She examines the + chairs</i>.) These chairs are not so bad. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You can sit on one to-night and see. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. You know, mended up, those chairs would do very well for my + kitchen when I'm wed. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Yes, or for mine. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I reckon my parlour comes afront of your kitchens, though. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Parlour! I thought you said you'd only one living-room. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Then it might as well be called a parlour as by any other name. (<i>Crosses + to doors</i>, L., <i>and opens them</i>.) Put the chairs on the hand-cart, + Will. + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>goes out to street</i>.) + </p> + <p> + And as for your kitchens, you've got none yet, and if you want my plan for + you to work, you'll just remember all I'm taking off you is some crippled + stuff that isn't yours and what I'm getting for you is marriage portions. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. What? (<i>Moves to</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Marriage portions, Maggie! + </p> + <p> + (FREDDY <i>re-enters, accompanied by</i> ALBERT.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>to</i> VICKEY <i>and</i> ALICE). You'd better put your hats on + now, or you'll be late at the church. (<i>Gets between</i> ALICE <i>and</i> + VICKEY, C.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. But aren't we to know first—? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>herding them to</i> R. <i>exit</i>). You'll know all right. Be + quick with your things now. + </p> + <p> + (ALICE <i>and</i> VICKEY <i>go out</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>turns</i>). Good morning, Albert. (<i>Goes to him</i>, L.) Have + you got what Freddy asked you for? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Yes, but I'm afraid— + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>re-enters from street, crosses</i> R. <i>and goes off</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Never mind being afraid. Freddy, I told you I'd a job here for + you. You go upstairs with Will. There's a sofa to come down. Get your coat + off to it. Now, then, Albert. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. But—(<i>Moving over to</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I've told you what to do, and you can't do it in your coat. (<i>Moves + down</i> L.) If that sofa isn't here in two minutes, I'll leave the lot of + you to tackle this yourselves and a nice hash you'll make of it. + </p> + <p> + (FREDDY <i>takes his coat off and puts it on a chair in front of the + counter</i>.) + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. All right, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + (FREDDY <i>goes out</i> R., ALBERT <i>produces blue paper. She reads</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>sitting in arm-chair</i>, R. C.). Do you call this English? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>standing</i> L. <i>of her</i>). Legal English, Miss Hobson. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I thought it weren't the sort we talk in Lancashire. What is it + when you've got behind the whereases and the saids and to wits? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. It's what you told Freddy to instruct me. Action against Henry + Horatio Hobson for trespass on the premises of Jonathan Beenstock & + Co., Corn Merchants, of Chapel Street, Salford, with damages to certain + corn bags caused by falling on them and further damages claimed for spying + on the trade secrets of the aforesaid J. B. & Co. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Well, I'll take your word that this means that—I shouldn't + have thought it, but I suppose lawyers are like doctors. They've each a + secret language, of their own so that if you get a letter from one lawyer + you've to take it to another to get it read, just like a doctor sends you + to a chemist with a rigmarole that no one else can read, so they can + charge you what they like for a drop of coloured water. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. I've made this out to your instructions, Miss Hobson, but I'm far + from saying it's good law, and I'd not be keen on going into court with + it. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Nobody asked you to. It won't come into court. + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>and</i> FREDDY <i>enter C. with a ramshackle horsehair sofa</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>Rises</i>.) Open that door for them, Albert. + </p> + <p> + (ALBERT <i>opens street door. They pass out</i>.) + </p> + <p> + What's the time? You can see the clock from there. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>outside street door</i>). It's a quarter to one. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>flying to</i> R. <i>door, opening it, and calling</i>). Girls, + if you're late for my wedding I'll never forgive you. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She turns as</i> WILL <i>and</i> FREDDY <i>return</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Put your coats on. Now, then, Freddy—(<i>going</i> C.),—you + take that paper and put it on <i>my</i> father in <i>your</i> cellar. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Now? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Now? Yes, of course now. He might waken any time. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. He looked fast enough. Aren't I to come to the church? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes, if you do that quick enough to get there before we're + through. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. All right. (<i>He goes out</i> L., <i>pocketing the paper</i>. + MAGGIE <i>follows him to the door</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Now there's that hand-cart. Are we to take it with us? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. To church! You can't do that. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'll take it home. (<i>Slight move</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And have me waiting for you at the church? That's not for me, my + lad. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. You can't very well leave it where it is. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. No. There's only one thing for it. You'll have to take it to our + place, Albert. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Me! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. There's the key. (<i>Down to</i> ALBERT, L., <i>and hands it from + her bag</i>.) It's 39a, Oldfield Road. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Yes, but to push a hand-cart through Salford in broad daylight! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It won't dirty your collar. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Suppose some of my friends see me? + </p> + <p> + (<i>They both move up</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Look here, my lad, if you're too proud to do a job like that, + you're not the husband for my sister. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. It's the look of the thing. Can't you send somebody from here? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. No. You can think it over. (<i>She raises trap</i>.) Tubby! + </p> + <p> + TUBBY (<i>below</i>). Yes, Miss. (<i>He appears half-way up trap</i>.) + Why, it's Miss Maggie! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Come up, Tubby. You're in charge of the shop. We'll all be out for + awhile. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. I'll be up in half a minute, Miss Maggie. (<i>He goes down and + closes trap</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Well, Albert Prosser? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>up</i> L.). I suppose I must. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. That's right. We'll call it your wedding gift to me, and I'll + allow you're putting yourself out a bit for me. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Going with him to the door. He goes. She turns and comes to</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + Well, Will, you've not had much to say for yourself to-day. Howst feeling, + lad? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm going through with it, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Eh? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. My mind's made up. I've got wrought up to point. I'm ready. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's church we're going to, not the dentist's. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I know. You get rid of summat at dentist's, but it's taking summat + on to go to church with a wench, and the Lord knows what. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Sithee, Will, I've a respect for church. Yon's not the place for + lies. The parson's going to ask you will you have me and you'll either + answer truthfully or not at all. If you're not willing, just say so now, + and— + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'll tell him "yea". + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And truthfully? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Yes, Maggie. I'm resigned. You're growing on me, lass. I'll toe + the line with you. + </p> + <p> + (ALICE <i>and</i> VICKEY <i>enter</i> R. <i>in their Sunday clothes—the + same at which</i> HOBSON <i>grew indignant in Act I</i>. MAGGIE <i>takes</i> + WILLIE <i>across to</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. We're ready, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And time you were. It's not your weddings that you're dressing + for. (<i>By trap</i>.) Come up, Tubby, and keep an eye on things. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. (<i>to</i> WILL). Will, have you got the ring? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I have. Do you think I'd trust him to remember? + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>goes off with</i> WILL. VICKEY <i>and</i> ALICE <i>are + following, laughing</i>. TUBBY <i>comes up trap and throws old shoes after + them</i>.) + </p> + <h3> + CURTAIN. + </h3> + <p> + {Illustration} Reddish brick walls. Plaster falling off in places. Very + old square carpet. Fire burning. No ornaments. Tin box on mantelpiece. A + few plates, workbasket and tin boxes on dresser. Shoes, clogs on top of + dresser. Old coloured tablecloth on table. Roll of leather, etc., at table + behind screen. Three hat pegs on wall above fireplace. Lamp on + mantelpiece. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT III + </h2> + <p> + <i>The cellar in Oldfield Road is at once workroom, shop, and living-room. + It is entered from the</i> R. <i>corner by a door at the top of a flight + of some seven stairs. Its three windows are high up at the back—not + shop windows, but simply to give light. Each window has on it "William + Mossop, Practical Bootmaker," reversed as seen from the inside and is + illuminated dimly from outside by a neighbouring street lamp. </i> + </p> + <p> + A door L. <i>leads to the bedroom. Up stage</i> L. <i>is a small screen or + partition whose purpose is to conceal the sink. A shoemaker's bench, + leather and tackle are against the wall</i>, R., <i>above the fire-place. + Below the door</i>, L., <i>is a small dresser. Table</i> R. C. <i>Seating + accommodation consists solely of the sofa and the two chairs taken from</i> + HOBSON'S, <i>now repaired. The sofa is</i> L. <i>of the table, the two + chairs</i> R. <i>Crowded on the sofa are, in order, from down up,</i> + ALBERT, ALICE, VICKEY, FRED. + </p> + <p> + <i>As the curtain rises, the four are standing, tea-cups in hand, saying + together "The Bride and Bridegroom." They drink and sit. General laughter + and conversation. On the chair down stage is</i> MAGGIE. <i>From the other + chair</i>, C., <i>behind table</i>, WILL <i>rises, nervously, and rushes + his little speech like a child who has learnt a lesson. The table has + hot-house flowers (in a basin) and the remains of a meal at which tea only + has been drunk, and the feast is represented by the sections of a large + pork pie and a small wedding cake. As</i> WILL <i>rises</i>, ALBERT <i>hammers + on the table</i>. + </p> + <p> + ALICE <i>suppresses him</i>. WILLIE. It's a very great pleasure to us to + see you here to-night. It's an honour you do us, and I assure you, + speaking for my—my wife, as well as for myself, that the—the— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>in an undertone</i>). Generous. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Oh, aye. That's it. That the generous warmth of the sentiments so + cordially expressed by Mr. Beenstock and so enthusiastically seconded by—no, + I've gotten that wrong road round—expressed by Mr. Prosser and + seconded by Mr. Beenstock—will never be forgotten by either my life + partner or self—and—and I'd like to drink this toast to you in + my own house. Our guests, and may they all be married soon themselves. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>rising and drinking with</i> WILL). Our guests. + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>and</i> MAGGIE <i>sit. General laughter and conversation</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>solemnly rising</i>). In rising to respond— + </p> + <p> + ALICE (<i>tugging his coat and putting him into his seat</i>). Sit down. + We've had enough of speeches. I know men fancy themselves when they're + talking, but you've had one turn and you needn't start again. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. But we ought to thank him, Alice. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I dare say. But you'll not speak as well as he did, so we can leave + it with a good wind-up. I'm free to own you took me by surprise, Will. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Very neat speech indeed. (<i>Rising</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Who taught you, Will? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I've been learning a lot lately. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I thought that speech never came natural from Will. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm educating him. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Very apt pupil, I must say. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He'll do. Another twenty years and I know which of you three men + 'ull be thought most of at the Bank. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. That's looking ahead a bit. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'll admit it needs imagination to see it now. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>rising and moving slightly</i> C.). Well, the start's all + right, you know. Snug little rooms. Shop of your own. And so on. I was + wondering where you raised the capital for this, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I? You mustn't call it my shop. It's his. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Do you mean to tell me that Willie found the capital? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He's the saving sort. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. He must be if you've done this out of what father used to pay him. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Well, we haven't. Not altogether. We've had help. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Ah! + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It's a mystery to me where you got it from. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Same place as those flowers, Albert. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Hot-house flowers, I see. (<i>He rises and examines them</i>.) I + was wondering where they came from. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>and</i> FREDDY <i>smell flowers</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Same place as the money, Albert. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Ah! + </p> + <p> + ALICE (<i>rising and following him</i>, C.). Well, I think we ought to be + getting home, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>rising, as do the rest</i>. VICKEY <i>and</i> FREDDY <i>move up + stage</i>). I shouldn't marvel. I reckon Tubby's a bit tired of looking + after the shop by now, and if father's wakened up and come in— + </p> + <p> + ALICE. That's it. I'm a bit nervous. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He'll have an edge on his temper. Come and put your hats on. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She is going</i> L., <i>with</i> ALICE <i>and</i> VICKEY, <i>then + stops</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Willie, we'll need this table when they're gone. You'd better be clearing + the pots away. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>by table</i>, R.) Yes, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>turns to</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. But—you— + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Oh, Lord! + </p> + <p> + (<i>They laugh</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>quite calmly</i>). And you and Fred can just lend him a hand + with the washing up, Albert. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Me wash pots! + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>really outraged</i>). Maggie, we're guests. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I know. Only Albert laughed at Willie, and washing up 'ull maybe + make him think on that it's not allowed. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She ushers</i> ALICE <i>and</i> VICKEY <i>out</i>, L., <i>and follows</i>. + WILLIE <i>begins to put pots on tray which he gets from behind screen, up</i> + L.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>after he and</i> FRED <i>have looked at each other, then at</i> + WILL, <i>then at each other again</i>). Are you going to wash up pots? + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Are you? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. I look at it like this myself. All being well, you and I are + marrying into this family and we know what Maggie is. If we start giving + in to her now, she'll be a nuisance to us all our lives. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. That's right enough, but there's this plan of hers to get us + married. Are you prepared to work it for us? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. I'm not. Anything but— + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Then till she's done it we're to keep the sweet side of Maggie. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. But, washing pots! (<i>Moves down</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>There is a pause. They look at</i> WILL, <i>who has brought the tray + from behind the screen and is now clearing up the table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. What would you do in our place, Will? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Please yourselves. I'm getting on with what she told me. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. You're married to her. We aren't. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. What do you need the table for in such a hurry? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE; Nay, I'm not in any hurry myself. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Maggie wants it for something. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It'll be for my lessons, I reckon. She's schooling me. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. And don't you want to learn, then? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>moves</i> C.). 'Tisn't that. I—just don't want to be rude + to you—turning you out so early. I don't see you need to go away so + soon. (<i>Crosses below table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Why not? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm fond of a bit of company. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Do you want company on your wedding night? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I don't favour your going so soon. (<i>Crosses</i> C. <i>again</i>.) + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. He's afraid to be alone with her. That's what it is. He's shy of + his wife. + </p> + <p> + (<i>They laugh</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. That's a fact. I've not been married before, you see. I've not + been left alone with her, either. Up to now she's been coming round to + where I lodged at Tubby Wadlow's to give me my lessons. It's different + now, and I freely own I'm feeling awkward-like. I'd be deeply obliged if + you would stay on a bit to help to—to thaw the ice for me. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. You've been engaged to her, haven't you? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Aye, but it weren't for long. And you see, Maggie's not the sort + you get familiar with. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. You had quite long enough to thaw the ice. It's not our job to do + your melting for you. (<i>Moves away</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. No. Fred, these pots need washing. We will wash them. + </p> + <p> + (ALBERT <i>carries tray behind screen. Water runs. He is seen flourishing + towels</i>. FRED <i>is following when</i> WILLIE <i>calls him back and + takes tray to table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Fred, would you like it yourself with—with a wench like + Maggie? (<i>Goes</i> R. C.) + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. That's not the point. It wasn't me she married. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It's that being alone with her that worries me, and I did think + you'd stand by a fellow man to make things not so strange at first. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>coming down, with a dishcloth</i>). That's not the way we look + at it. Hurry up with those cups, Fred. (<i>Goes to</i> FRED <i>up stage</i> + R.) + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>enters with</i> VICKEY <i>and</i> ALICE <i>in outdoor clothes</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Have you broken anything yet, Albert? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT (<i>indignantly</i>). Broken? No. (<i>Takes cup from tray and wipes + it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Too slow to, I expect. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. I must say you don't show much gratitude. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Aren't you at all surprised to find us doing this? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Surprised? I told you to do it. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Yes, but—(<i>Takes tray up stage</i>, L.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>taking towel from him</i>). You can stop now. I'll finish when + you're gone. (<i>Moves down</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>Knock at door upstairs</i>, R.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Who's that? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Some one who can't read, I reckon. You hung that card on door, + Will? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Aye, it's there. And you wrote it, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I knew better than to trust to you. "Business suspended for the + day" it says, and they that can't read it can go on knocking. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>off</i> R. <i>upstairs, after another knock</i>). Are you in, + Maggie? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>terrified</i>). It's father! + </p> + <p> + (<i>General consternation</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Oh, Lord! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What's the matter? Are you afraid of him? + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Well, I think, all things considered, and seeing— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. All right. We'll consider 'em. You can go into the bedroom, the + lot of you.... No, not you, Willie. The rest. I'll shout when I want you. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. When he's gone. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It'll be before he's gone. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>crosses to</i> L. <i>with them</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. But we don't want— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Is this your house or mine? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It's your cellar. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And I'm in charge of it. + </p> + <p> + (<i>The four go into bedroom</i>. VICKEY <i>starts to argue</i>. ALBERT <i>opens + the door</i>. VICKEY <i>and</i> ALICE <i>go out followed by</i> FREDDY <i>and</i> + ALBERT. VICKEY <i>is pushed inside</i>. WILL <i>is going to stairs</i>.) + You sit you still, and don't forget you're gaffer here. I'll open door. + (WILLIE <i>sits in chair above table</i>. MAGGIE <i>goes upstairs and + opens the door. Enter</i> HOBSON <i>to top stair</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>with some slight apology</i>). Well, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>uninvitingly</i>). Well, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>without confidence</i>). I'll come in. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>standing in his way</i>). Well, I don't know. I'll have to ask + the master about that. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Eh? The master? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You and him didn't part on the best of terms, you know. (<i>Over + the railings</i>.) Will, it's my father. Is he to come in? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>loudly and boldly</i>). Aye, let him come. + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>comes downstairs</i>. MAGGIE <i>closes door behind him and + follows</i>. HOBSON <i>stares round at the cellar</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You don't sound cordial about your invitation, young man. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>rises and goes</i> C.). Nay, but I am. (<i>Shaking hands for a + long time</i>.) I'm right down glad to see you, Mr. Hobson. (MAGGIE <i>comes + down</i> R.) It makes the wedding-day complete-like, you being her father + and I—I hope you'll see your way to staying a good long while. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Well— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. That's enough, Will. You don't need to overdo it. You can sit down + for five minutes, father. That sofa 'ull bear your weight. It's been + tested. + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>sits on sofa</i>, R. C. WILLIE <i>goes back to the chair</i>, + R.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>taking up teapot</i>). There's nobbut tea to drink and I reckon + what's in the pot is stewed, so I'll— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>taking pot off him as he moves to fire-place with it</i>). + You'll not do owt of sort. Father likes his liquids strong. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>down</i> R. <i>of table</i>). A piece of pork pie now, Mr. + Hobson? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>groaning</i>). Pork pie! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>sharply</i>). You'll be sociable now you're here, I hope. (<i>She + pours tea at table, top end</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. It wasn't sociability that brought me, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What was it, then? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Maggie, I'm in disgrace. A sore and sad misfortune's fallen on me. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>cutting</i>). Happen a piece of wedding cake 'ull do you good. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>shuddering</i>). It's sweet. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. That's natural in cake. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>sits in chair above table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've gotten such a head. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Aye. But wedding cake's a question of heart. There'd be no bride + cakes made at all if we thought first about our heads. I'm quite aware + it's foolishness, but I've a wish to see my father sitting at my table + eating my wedding cake on my wedding-day. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. It's a very serious thing I came about, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's not more serious than knowing that you wish us well. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Well, Maggie, you know my way. When a thing's done it's done. + You've had your way and done what you wanted. I'm none proud of the choice + you made and I'll not lie and say I am, but I've shaken your husband's + hand, and that's a sign for you. The milk's spilt and I'll not cry. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>holding plate</i>). Then there's your cake, and you can eat it. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've given you my word there's no ill feeling. (<i>Pushes cake + away</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. So now we'll have the deed. (<i>Pushes it back</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You're a hard woman. (<i>He eats</i>.) You've no consideration for + the weakness of old age. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Finished? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Pass me that tea. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She passes: he drinks</i>.) + </p> + <p> + That's easier. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Now tell me what it is you came about? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm in sore trouble, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>rising and going towards door</i>, L.). Then I'll leave you + with my husband to talk it over. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Eh? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You'll not be wanting me. Women are only in your way. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>rising and going</i> C.). Maggie, you re not going to desert me + in the hour of my need, are you? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Surely to goodness you don't want a woman to help you after all + you've said! Will 'ull do his best, I make no doubt. (<i>She goes towards + door</i>.) Give me a call when you've finished, Will. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>following her</i>). Maggie! It's private. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Why, yes. I'm going and you can discuss it man to man with no + fools of women about. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I tell you I've come to see you, not him. It's private from him. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Private from Will? Nay, it isn't. Will's in the family—(<i>comes + back a little</i>),—and you've nowt to say to me that can't be said + to him. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've to tell you this with him there? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Will and me's one. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Sit down, Mr. Hobson. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You call him father now. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>astonished</i>). Do I? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Does he? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He does. Sit down, Will. + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>sits right of table</i>. MAGGIE <i>stands at the head of the + table</i>. HOBSON <i>sits on sofa</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Now, if you're ready, father, we are. What's the matter? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. That—(<i>producing the blue paper</i>)—that's the + matter. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>accepts and passes it to</i> WILL <i>and goes behind his chair. + He is reading upside down. She bends over chair and turns it right way up</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What is it, Will? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>banging table</i>). Ruin, Maggie, that's what it is! Ruin and + bankruptcy. Am I vicar's warden at St. Philip's or am I not? Am I Hobson + of Hobson's Boot Shop on Chapel Street, Salford? Am I a respectable + ratepayer and the father of a family or— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>who has been reading over</i> WILL'S <i>shoulder</i>). It's an + action for damages for trespass, I see. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. It's a stab in the back, it's an unfair, un-English, cowardly way + of taking a mean advantage of a casual accident. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Did you trespass? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Maggie, I say it solemnly, it is all your fault. I had an + accident. I don't deny it. I'd been in the "Moonraker's" and I'd stayed + too long. And why? Why did I stay too long? To try to forget that I'd a + thankless child, to erase from the tablets of memory the recollection of + your conduct. That was the cause of it. And the result, the blasting, + withering result? I fell into that cellar. I slept in that cellar and I + awoke to this catastrophe. Lawyers... law-costs... publicity... ruin. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>moving round table to</i> C.). I'm still asking you. Was it an + accident? Or did you trespass? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. It's an accident. As plain as Salford Town Hall it's an accident, + but they that live by law have twisted ways of putting things that make + white show as black. I'm in their grip at last. I've kept away from + lawyers all my life, I've hated lawyers, and they've got their chance to + make me bleed for it. I've dodged them, and they've caught me in the end. + They'll squeeze me dry for it. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. My word, and that's summat like a squeeze and all. + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>stares at him</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I can see it's serious. I shouldn't wonder if you didn't lose some + trade from this. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Wonder! (<i>Rising and moving</i> C.) It's as certain as + Christmas. My good-class customers are not going to buy their boots from a + man who's stood up in open court and had to acknowledge he was overcome at + 12 o'clock in the morning. They'll not remember it was private grief that + caused it all. They'll only think the worse of me because I couldn't + control my daughter better than to let her go and be the cause of sorrow + to me in my age. That's what you've done. Brought this on me, you two, + between you. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Do you think it will get into the paper, Maggie? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes, for sure. You'll see your name in the <i>Salford Reporter</i>, + father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. <i>Salford Reporter</i>! Yes, and more. When there is ruin and + disaster, and outrageous fortune overwhelms a man of my importance to the + world, it isn't only the <i>Salford Reporter</i> that takes note of it. + This awful cross that's come to me will be recorded in the <i>Manchester + Guardian</i> for the whole of Lancashire to read. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Eh, by gum, think of that! To have your name appearing in the <i>Guardian</i>! + Why, it's very near worth while to be ruined for the pleasure of reading + about yourself in a printed paper. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>sits sofa</i>). It's there for others to read besides me, my + lad. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Aye, you're right. I didn't think of that. This 'ull give a lot of + satisfaction to a many I could name. Other people's troubles is mostly + what folks read the paper for, and I reckon it's twice the pleasure to + them when it's trouble of a man they know themselves. (<i>He is perfectly + simple and has no malicious intention</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. To hear you talk it sounds like a pleasure to you. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>sincerely</i>). Nay, it's not. You've ate my wedding cake and + you've shook my hand. We're friends, I hope, and I were nobbut meditating + like a friend. I always think it's best to look on the worst side of + things first, then whatever chances can't be worse than you looked for. + There's St. Philip's now. I don't suppose you'll go on being vicar's + warden after this to do, and it brought you a powerful lot of customers + from the church, did that. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>turning to her</i>). I'm getting a lot of comfort from your + husband, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's about what you deserve. (<i>Goes to him</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Have you got any more consolation for me, Will? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>aggrieved</i>). I only spoke what came into my mind. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Well, have you spoken it all? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I can keep my mouth shut if you'd rather. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Don't strain yourself, Will Mossop. When a man's mind is full of + thoughts like yours, they're better out than in. You let them come, my + lad. They'll leave a cleaner place behind. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm not much good at talking, and I always seem to say wrong + things when I do talk. I'm sorry if my well-meant words don't suit your + taste, but I thought you came here for advice. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I didn't come to you, you jumped-up cock-a-hooping—(<i>Rising</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. That 'ull do, father. (<i>Pushes him down</i>.) My husband's <i>trying</i> + to help you. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>glares impatiently for a time, then meekly says</i>). Yes, + Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Now about this accident of yours. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Yes, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's the publicity that you're afraid of most. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. It's being dragged into a court of law at all, me that's voted + right all through my life and been a sound supporter of the Queen and + Constitution. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Then we must try to keep it out of court. (<i>Moves away to</i> L. + C.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>rising and moving to</i> C.). If there are lawyers in Heaven, + Maggie, which I doubt, they may keep cases out of courts there. On earth a + lawyer's job's to squeeze a man and squeeze him where his squirming's seen + the most—in court. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I've heard of cases being settled out of court, in private. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. In private? Yes, I dare say, and all the worse for that. It's done + amongst themselves in lawyers' offices behind closed doors so no one can + see they're squeezing twice as hard in private as they'd dare to do in + public. There's some restraint demanded by a public place, but privately! + It'll cost a fortune to settle this in private, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I make no doubt it's going to cost you something, but you'd rather + do it privately than publicly? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>coming back to sofa and sitting again</i>). If only it were not + a lawyer's office. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You can settle it with the lawyer out of his office. You can + settle with him here. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She goes</i> L. <i>and opens door. Then comes down</i> L.) Albert! + </p> + <p> + (<i>Enter</i> ALBERT, <i>who leaves door open. He comes</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + This is Mr. Prosser, of Prosser, Pilkington, and Prosser. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>amazed</i>). He is! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>incredulously, rising</i>). You're a lawyer! + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Yes, I'm a lawyer. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>with disgust almost too deep for words</i>). At your age! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>going up to door</i>). Come out, all of you. (<i>She moves to + top end of table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>There is reluctance inside, then</i> VICKEY, ALICE <i>and</i> FRED <i>enter + and stand in a row</i>, L.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Alice! Vickey! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Family gathering. This is Mr. Beenstock, of Beenstock & Co. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. How do you do? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. What! Here! + </p> + <p> + (<i>The situation is plainly beyond his mused brain's capacity</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. When you've got a thing to settle, you need all the parties to be + present. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. But there are so many of them. Where have they all come from? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. My bedroom. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Your—? Maggie, I wish you'd explain before my brain gives + way. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's quite simple. I got them here because I expected you. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You expected me! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes. You're in trouble. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>shaking his head, then as if finding an outlet, pouncing on</i> + ALICE). What's it got to do with Alice and Vickey? What are they doing + here ? What's happening to the shop? (<i>Moves</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Tubby Wadlow's looking after it. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. And is it Tubby's job to look after the shop? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. He'd got no other job. The shop's so slack since Maggie left. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>swelling with rage</i>). And do you run that shop? Do you give + orders there? Do you decide when you can put your hats on and walk out of + it? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. They come out because it's my wedding-day, father. It's reason + enough, and Will and me 'ull do the same for them. We'll close the shop + and welcome on their wedding-days. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Their wedding-days! That's a long time off. It'll be many a year + before there's another wedding in this family, I give you my word. (<i>Turns + to</i> MAGGIE.) One daughter defying me is quite enough. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Hadn't we better get to business, sir? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>turning on him</i>). Young man, don't abuse a noble word. + You're a lawyer. By your own admission you're a lawyer. Honest men live by + business and lawyers live by law. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. In this matter, sir, I am following the instructions of my client, + Mr. Beenstock, and the remark you have just let fall, before witnesses, + appears to me to bear a libellous reflection on the action of my client. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. What! So it's libel now. Isn't trespass and... and spying on trade + secrets enough for you, you blood-sucking—(<i>To</i> ALBERT.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. One moment, Mr. Hobson. You can call me what you like— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. And I shall. You— + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. But I wish to remind you, in your own interests, that abuse of a + lawyer is remembered in the costs. Now, my client tells me he is prepared + to settle this matter out of court. Personally, I don't advise him to, + because we should probably get higher damages in court. But Mr. Beenstock + has no desire to be vindictive. He remembers your position, your + reputation for respectability, and— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. How much? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Er—I beg your pardon? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm not so fond of the sound of your voice as you are. What's the + figure? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. The sum we propose, which will include my ordinary costs, but not + any additional costs incurred by your use of defamatory language to me, is + one thousand pounds. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. What! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It isn't. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. One thousand pounds for tumbling down a cellar! Why, I might have + broken my leg. (<i>Moves away to</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. That is in the nature of an admission, Mr. Hobson. Our flour bags + saved your legs from fracture and I am therefore inclined to add to the + sum I have stated a reasonable estimate of the doctor's bill we have saved + you by protecting your legs with our bags. (<i>Turns towards</i> FREDDY.) + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>sits</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Eh, Albert Prosser, I can see you're going to get on in the world, + but you needn't be greedy here. That one thousand's too much. (<i>Comes</i> + C.) + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. We thought— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Then you can think again. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. But— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. If there are any more signs of greediness from you two, there'll + be a counter-action for personal damages due to your criminal carelessness + in leaving your cellar flap open. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. (<i>rising</i>). Maggie, you've saved me. I'll bring that action. + I'll show them up. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You're not damaged, and one lawyer's quite enough. But he'll be + more reasonable now. I know perfectly well what father can afford to pay, + and it's not a thousand pounds nor anything like a thousand pounds. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Not so much of your can't afford, Maggie. You'll make me out a + pauper. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>turns to HOBSON</i>). You can afford 500 pounds and you're + going to pay 500 pounds. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Oh, but... there's a difference between affording and paying. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You can go to the courts and be reported in the papers if you + like. (<i>Moves to above table</i>, R.C.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. It's the principle I care about. I'm being beaten by a lawyer. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>going to</i> HOBSON). Father, dear, how can you be beaten when + they wanted a thousand pounds and you're only going to give 500 pounds? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I hadn't thought of that. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It's they who are beaten. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'd take a good few beatings myself at the price, Vickey. Still, I + want this keeping out of court. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Then we can take it as settled? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Do you want to see the money before you believe me? Is that your + nasty lawyer's way? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Not at all, Mr. Hobson. Your word is as good as your bond. (<i>Moves + back</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It's settled! It's settled! Hurrah! Hurrah! (<i>Moves</i> L. <i>to</i> + FREDDY.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Well, I don't see what you have to cheer about, Vickey. I'm not to + be dragged to public scorn, but you know this is a tidy bit of money to be + going out of the family. (<i>Sits sofa</i>, R. C.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's not going out of the family, father. (<i>Moves up</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I don't see how you make it out. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Their wedding-day is not so far off as you thought, now there's + the half of five hundred pounds apiece for them to make a start on. + </p> + <p> + (ALBERT <i>and</i> ALICE, FRED <i>and</i> VICKEY <i>stand arm in arm</i>, + L.) HOBSON. You mean to tell me— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You won't forget you've passed your word, will you father? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>rising</i>). I've been diddled. (<i>Moves</i> C.) It's a plant. + It— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It takes two daughters off your hands at once, and clears your + shop of all the fools of women that used to lumber up the place. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. It will be much easier for you without us in your way, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Aye, and you can keep out of my way and all. Do you hear that, all + of you? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Father...! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>picking up his hat</i>). I'll run that shop with men and—and + I'll show Salford how it should be run. Don't you imagine there'll be room + for you when you come home crying and tired of your fine husbands. I'm rid + of ye, and it's a lasting riddance, mind. I'll pay this money, that you've + robbed me of, and that's the end of it. All of you. You, especially, + Maggie. I'm not blind yet, and I can see who 'tis I've got to thank for + this. (<i>He goes to foot of stairs</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Don't be vicious, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Will Mossop, I'm sorry for you. (<i>Over banisters</i>.) Take you + for all in all, you're the best of the bunch. You're a backward lad, but + you know your trade and it's an honest one. + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>is going up the stairs</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. So does my Albert know his trade. (<i>Goes</i> R. C.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>half-way up-stairs</i>). I'll grant you that. He knows his + trade. He's good at robbery. (ALICE <i>shows great indignation</i>.) And + I've to have it on my conscience that my daughter's wed a lawyer and an + employer of lawyers. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It didn't worry your conscience to keep us serving in the shop at + no wages. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I kept you, didn't I? It's some one else's job to victual you in + future. Aye, you may grin, you two, but girls don't live on air. Your + penny buns 'ull cost you tuppence now—and more. Wait, till the + families begin to come. Don't come to me for keep, that's all. (<i>Going</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Father! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>turning</i>). Aye. You may father me. But that's a piece of + work I've finished with. I've done with fathering, and they're beginning + it. They'll know what marrying a woman means before so long. They're + putting chains upon themselves and I have thrown the shackles off. I've + suffered thirty years and more and I'm a free man from to-day. Lord, what + a thing you're taking on! You poor, poor wretches. You're red-nosed + robbers, but you're going to pay for it. + </p> + <p> + (<i>He opens door and exits</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>coming</i> C.). You'd better arrange to get married quick. + Alice and Vickey will have a sweet time with him. + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. Can they go home at all! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Why not? + </p> + <p> + FREDDY. After what he said? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He'll not remember half of it. He's for the "Moonraker's" now—if + there's time. What is the time? + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Time we were going, Maggie—(<i>going to her</i>, C.);—you'll + be glad to see the back of us. (<i>He shows</i> MAGGIE <i>his watch</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. No. No. (<i>Rising</i>.) I wouldn't dream of asking you to go. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>moving up to get hats</i>). Then I would. It's high time we + turned you out. There are your hats. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She gets</i> ALBERT'S <i>and</i> FRED'S <i>hats from rack</i>, R.) + </p> + <p> + Good night. + </p> + <p> + (ALBERT <i>and</i> FREDDY <i>go upstairs</i>. MAGGIE <i>comes back</i>, + C.) + </p> + <p> + Good night, Vickey. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>with a quick kiss</i>). Good night, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>goes upstairs. She and</i> FREDDY <i>go out</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Good night, Alice. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Good night, Maggie. (<i>The same quick kiss</i>.) And thank you. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Oh, that! (<i>She goes with her to stairs</i>.) I'll see you again + soon, only don't come round here too much, because Will and me's going to + be busy and you'll maybe find enough to do yourselves with getting wed. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I dare say. (<i>Upstairs</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>The general exit is continuous, punctuated with laughter and merry + "Good nights!"</i>) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Send us word when the day is. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. We'll be glad to see you at the wedding. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. We'll come to that. You'll be too grand for us afterwards. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT. Oh, no, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Well, happen we'll be catching up with you before so long. We're + only starting here. Good night. + </p> + <p> + ALBERT & ALICE Good night, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + (<i>They go out, closing door</i>. MAGGIE <i>turns to</i> WILL, <i>putting + her hands on his shoulders. He starts</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Now you've heard what I've said of you to-night. In twenty years + you're going to be thought more of than either of your brothers-in-law. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I heard you say it, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And we're to make it good. I'm not a boaster, Will. And it's to be + in less than twenty years, and all. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Well, I dunno. They've a long start on us. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And you've got me. Your slate's in the bedroom. Bring it out. I'll + have this table clear by the time you come back. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She moves round to</i> R. <i>of table and hustles off the last remains + of the meal, putting the flowers on the mantel and takes off cloth, + placing it over the back of the chair</i>, R. WILL <i>goes to bedroom and + returns with a slate and slate pencil. The slate is covered with writing. + He puts it on table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Off with your Sunday coat now. You don't want to make a mess of + that. + </p> + <p> + (<i>He takes coat off and gets rag from behind screen and brings it back + to table. He hangs his coat on a peg</i>, R.) + </p> + <p> + What are you doing with that mopping rag? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I was going to wash out what's on the slate. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Let me see it first. That's what you did last night at Tubby's + after I came here? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Yes, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>sitting at table up</i> R. C., <i>reading</i>). "There is + always room at the top." (<i>Washing it out</i>.) Your writing's + improving, Will. I'll set you a short copy for to-night, because it's + getting late and we've a lot to do in the morning. (<i>Writing</i>.) + "Great things grow from small." Now, then, you can sit down here and copy + that! + </p> + <p> + (<i>He takes her place at the table</i>. MAGGIE <i>watches a moment, then + goes to fire-place and fingers the flowers</i>.) + </p> + <p> + I'll put these flowers of Mrs. Hepworth's behind the fire, Will. We'll not + want litter in the place come working time to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She takes up basin, stops, looks at</i> WILL, <i>who is bent over his + slate, and takes a flower out, throwing the rest behind the fire and going + to bedroom with the one</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>looking up</i>). You're saving one. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>caught in an act of sentiment and apologetically</i>). I + thought I'd press it in my Bible for a keepsake, Will. I'm not beyond + liking to be reminded of this day. + </p> + <p> + (<i>She looks at screen and yawns</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Lord, I'm tired. I reckon I'll leave those pots till morning. It's a + slackish way of starting, but I don't get married every day. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>industrious at his slate</i>). No. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm for my bed. You finish that copy before you come. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Yes, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Exit</i> MAGGIE <i>to bedroom, with the flower. She closes door</i>. + WILL <i>copies, repeats letters and words as he writes them slowly, + finishes, then rises and rakes out fire. He looks shyly at bedroom door, + sits and takes his boots off. He rises, boots in hand, moves towards door, + hesitates, and turns back, puts boots down at door, then returns to table + and takes off his collar. Then hesitates again, finally makes up his mind, + puts out light, and lies down on sofa with occasional glances at the + bedroom door. At first he faces the fire. He is uncomfortable. He turns + over and faces the door. In a minute</i> MAGGIE <i>opens the bedroom door. + She has a candle and is in a plain calico night-dress. She comes to</i> + WILL, <i>shines the light on him, takes him by the ear, and returns with + him to bedroom</i>). + </p> + <h3> + CURTAIN. + </h3> + <p> + {Illustration.} Red papered chamber of an old-fashioned design. + Antimacassars on chairs. All sorts of china ornaments. Dogs, vases, + artificial flowers, lace curtains on window, books, boot boxes, cushions + with lace covers, fire lit. Gas brackets each side of mantelpiece. Old + pictures, velvet-framed views. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT IV + </h2> + <p> + <i>The scene represents</i> HOBSON'S <i>living-room, the door to which was + seen in Act I. From inside the room that door is now seen to be at the + left, the opposite wall having the fire-place and another door to the + house. </i> + </p> + <p> + It is eight o'clock on a morning a year later. + </p> + <p> + In front of the fire-place is a horsehair arm-chair. Chairs to match are + at the table. There are coloured prints of Queen Victoria and the Prince + Consort on the walls on each side of the door at the back, and a plain one + of Lord Beaconsfield over the fire-place. Antimacassars abound, and the + decoration is quaintly ugly. It is an overcrowded, "cosy" room. HOBSON <i>is + quite contented with it, and doesn't realize that it is at present very + dirty. </i> + </p> + <p> + There is probably a kitchen elsewhere, but TUBBY WADLOW <i>is cooking + bacon at the fire. He is simultaneously laying breakfast for one on the + table. At both proceedings he is a puzzled and incompetent amateur. + Presently the left door opens, and</i> JIM HEELER <i>appears</i>. + </p> + <p> + JIM (<i>crossing</i>). I'll go straight up to him, Tubby. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY (<i>checking him</i>). He's getting up, Mr. Heeler. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Getting up! Why, you said— + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. I told you what he told me to tell you. Run for Doctor MacFarlane, + he said. And I ran for Doctor MacFarlane. Now go to Mr. Heeler, he said, + and tell him I'm very ill, and I came and told you. Then he said he would + get up, and I was to have his breakfast ready for him, and he'd see you + down here. (<i>Goes to fire</i>, R.) + </p> + <p> + JIM (<i>moving towards door up</i> R.). Nonsense, Tubby. Of course, I'll + go up to him. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. You know what he is, sir. I'll get blamed if you go, and he's + short-tempered this morning. + </p> + <p> + JIM. I don't want to get you into trouble, Tubby. (<i>He sits</i> R. <i>of + table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Thank you, Mr. Heeler. (<i>Puts bacon on plate and plate down on + the hearth</i>.) + </p> + <p> + JIM. I quite thought it was something serious. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. If you ask me, it is. (<i>Coming back to table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + JIM. Which way? + </p> + <p> + TUBBY (<i>cutting bread</i>). Every way you look at it. Mr. Hobson's not + his own old self, and the shop's not its own old self, and look at me. Now + I ask you, Mr. Heeler, man to man, is this work for a foreman shoe hand? + Cooking and laying tables and— + </p> + <p> + JIM. By all accounts there's not much else for you to do. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. There's better things than being a housemaid, if it's only making + clogs. (<i>Crosses to fire to toast</i>.) + </p> + <p> + JIM. They tell me clogs are a cut line. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Well, what are you to do? There's nothing else wanted. (<i>Turns</i>.) + Hobson's in a bad way, and I'm telling no secret when I say it. It's a + fact that's known. + </p> + <p> + JIM. It's a thousand pities with an old-established trade like this. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. And who's to blame? + </p> + <p> + JIM. I don't think you ought to discuss that with me, Tubby. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Don't you? I'm an old servant of the master's, and I'm sticking to + him now when everybody's calling me a doting fool because I don't look + after Tubby Wadlow first, and if that don't give me the right to say what + I please, I don't know. It's temper's ruining this shop, Mr. Heeler. + Temper and obstinacy. + </p> + <p> + JIM. They say in Chapel Street it's Willie Mossop. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Willie's a good lad, though I say it that trained him. He hit us + hard, did Willie, but we'd have got round that in time. With care, you + understand, and tact. Tact. That's what the gaffer lacks. Miss Maggie, now + ... well, she's a marvel, aye, a fair knock-out. Not slavish, mind you. + Stood up to the customers all the time, but she'd a way with her that sold + the goods and made them come again for more. Look at us now. Men + assistants in the shop. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Cost more than women. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Cost? They'd be dear at any price. Look here, Mr. Heeler, take + yourself. When you go to buy a pair of boots do you like to be tried on by + a man or a nice soft young woman? + </p> + <p> + JIM. Well— + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. There you are. Stands to reason. It's human nature. + </p> + <p> + JIM. But there are two sides to that, Tubby. Look at the other. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Ladies? + </p> + <p> + JIM. Yes. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Ladies that are ladies wants trying on by their own sex, and them + that aren't buys clogs. It's the good-class trade that pays, and Hobson's + have lost it. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Enter</i> HOBSON <i>up</i> R., <i>unshaven, without collar. He comes + down stage between them</i>.) + </p> + <p> + JIM (<i>with cheerful sympathy</i>). Well, Henry! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>with acute melancholy and self-pity</i>). Oh, Jim! Oh, Jim! Oh, + Jim! + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Will you sit on the arm-chair by the fire or at the table? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. The table? Breakfast? Bacon? Bacon, and I'm like this. + </p> + <p> + (JIM <i>assists him to arm-chair</i>.) + </p> + <p> + JIM. When a man's like this he wants a woman about the house, Henry. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>sitting</i>). I'll want then. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Shall I go for Miss Maggie, sir?—Mrs. Mossop, I mean. + </p> + <p> + JIM. I think your daughters should be here. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. They should. Only they're not. They're married, and I'm deserted + by them all and I'll die deserted, then perhaps they'll be sorry for the + way they've treated me. Tubby, have you got no work to do in the shop? + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. I might find some if I looked hard. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Then go and look. And take that bacon with you. I don't like the + smell. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY (<i>getting bacon</i>). Are you sure you wouldn't like Miss Maggie + here? I'll go for her and—(<i>He holds the bacon very close to</i> + HOBSON'S <i>face</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Oh, go for her. Go for the devil. What does it matter who you go + for? I'm a dying man. + </p> + <p> + (TUBBY <i>takes bacon and goes out</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + JIM. What's all this talk about dying, Henry? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Oh, Jim! Oh, Jim! I've sent for the doctor. We'll know soon how + near the end is. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Well, this is very sudden. (<i>Sits chair,</i> R.) You've never been + ill in your life. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. It's been saved up, and all come now at once. + </p> + <p> + JIM. What are your symptoms, Henry? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm all one symptom, head to foot. I'm frightened of myself, Jim. + That's worst. You would call me a clean man, Jim? + </p> + <p> + JIM. Clean? Of course I would. Clean in body and mind. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm dirty now. I haven't washed this morning. Couldn't face the + water. The only use I saw for water was to drown myself. The same with + shaving. I've thrown my razor through the window. Had to or I'd have cut + my throat. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Oh, come, come. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. It's awful. I'll never trust myself again. I'm going to grow a + beard—if I live. + </p> + <p> + JIM. You'll cheat the undertaker, Henry, but I fancy a doctor could + improve you. What do you reckon is the cause of it now? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. "Moonraker's." + </p> + <p> + JIM. You don't think— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I don't think. I know. I've seen it happen to others, but I never + thought that it would come to me. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Nor me, neither. You're not a toper, Henry. I grant you're regular, + but you don't exceed. It's a hard thing if a man can't take a drop of ale + without its getting back at him like this. Why, it might be my turn next. + </p> + <p> + (TUBBY <i>enters</i> L., <i>showing in</i> DOCTOR MACFARLANE, <i>a + domineering Scotsman of fifty</i>.) + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Here's Doctor MacFarlane. (<i>Exit</i> TUBBY.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Good morning, gentlemen. Where's my patient? (<i>He puts hat on + table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + JIM (<i>speaking without indicating</i> HOBSON). Here. (<i>He does not + rise</i>.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Here? Up? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Looks like it. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. And for a patient who's downstairs I'm made to rise from my bed at + this hour? + </p> + <p> + JIM. It's not so early as all that. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. But I've been up all night, sir. Young woman with her first. Are + you Mr. Hobson? + </p> + <p> + JIM (<i>quickly</i>). Certainly not. I'm not ill. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Hum. Not much to choose between you. You've both got your fate + written on your faces. + </p> + <p> + JIM. Do you mean that I—? (<i>Rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I mean he has and you will. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Doctor, will you attend to me? + </p> + <p> + (JIM <i>moves round</i> HOBSON'S <i>arm-chair to up stage and then to</i> + L. <i>of table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Yes. Now, sir. (<i>He sits by him and holds his wrist</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've never been in a bad way before this morning. Never wanted a + doctor in my life. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. You've needed. But you've not sent. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. But this morning— + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I ken—well. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. What! You know! + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Any fool would ken. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Eh? + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Any fool but one fool and that's yourself. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You're damned polite. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. If ye want flattery, I dare say ye can get it from your friend. + I'm giving you ma medical opinion. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I want your opinion on my complaint, not on my character. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Your complaint and your character are the same. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Then you'll kindly separate them and you'll tell me— + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR (<i>rising and taking up hat</i>). I'll tell you nothing, sir. I + don't diagnose as my patients wish, but as my intellect and sagacity + direct. Good morning to you. (<i>Turns</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + JIM (<i>meeting him below table</i>). But you have not diagnosed. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Sir, if I am to interview a patient in the presence of a third + party, the least that third party can do is to keep his mouth shut. + </p> + <p> + JIM. After that, there's only one thing for it. He shifts or I do. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You'd better go, Jim. + </p> + <p> + JIM. There are other doctors, Henry. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'll keep this one. I've got to teach him a lesson. Scotchmen + can't come over Salford lads this road. + </p> + <p> + JIM. If that's it, I'll leave you. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. That's it. I can bully as well as a foreigner. + </p> + <p> + (JIM <i>goes out</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. That's better, Mr. Hobson. (<i>He puts hat down and comes back</i> + R.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. If I'm better, you've not had much to do with it. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I think my calculated rudeness— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. If you calculate your fees at the same rate as your rudeness, + they'll be high. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I calculate by time, Mr. Hobson, so we'd better get to business. + Will you unbutton your shirt? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>doing it</i>). No hanky-panky now. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR (<i>ignoring his remark and examining</i>). Aye. It just confirms + ma first opinion. Ye've had a breakdown this A.M.? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You might say so. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Melancholic? Depressed? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>buttoning shirt</i>). Question was whether the razor would beat + me, or I'd beat razor. I won, that time. The razor's in the yard. But I'll + never dare to try shaving myself again. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. And do you seriously require me to tell you the cause, Mr. Hobson? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm paying thee brass to tell me. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Chronic alcoholism, if you know that what means. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Aye. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. A serious case. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I know it's serious. What do you think you're here for? It isn't + to tell me something I know already. It's to cure me. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Very well. I will write you a prescription. (<i>Produces notebook. + Sits at table and writes with copying pencil</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Stop that! + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I beg your pardon? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I won't take it. None of your druggist's muck for me. I'm + particular about what I put into my stomach. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Mr. Hobson, if you don't mend your manners, I'll certify you for a + lunatic asylum. Are you aware that you've drunk yourself within six months + of the grave? You'd a warning this morning that any sane man would listen + to and you're going to listen to it, sir. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. By taking your prescription? + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Precisely. You will take this mixture, Mr. Hobson, and you will + practise total abstinence for the future. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You ask me to give up my reasonable refreshment! + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I forbid alcohol absolutely. (<i>Starts writing</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Much use your forbidding is. I've had my liquor for as long as I + remember, and I'll have it to the end. If I'm to be beaten by beer I'll + die fighting, and I'm none practising unnatural teetotalism for the sake + of lengthening out my unalcoholic days. Life's got to be worth living + before I'll live it. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR (<i>rising and taking hat again</i>). If that's the way you talk, + my services are of no use to you. (<i>Moves down</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. They're not. I'll pay you on the nail for this. (<i>Rising and + sorting money from pocket</i>.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I congratulate you on the impulse, Mr. Hobson. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Nay, it's a fair deal, doctor. I've had value. You've been a tonic + to me. When I got up I never thought to see the "Moonraker's" again, but + I'm ready for my early morning draught this minute. (<i>Holds out money</i>.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR (<i>putting hat down, moving to</i> HOBSON <i>and talking earnestly</i>). + Man, will ye no be warned? Ye pig-headed animal, alcohol is poison to ye, + deadly, virulent with a system in the state yours is. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You're getting warm about it. Will you take your fee? (<i>Holding + out money</i>.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Yes. When I've earned it. Put it in your pocket, Mr. Hobson. I hae + na finished with ye yet. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I thought you had. (<i>Sits again</i>.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR (<i>up to</i> HOBSON, R.). Do ye ken that ye're defying me? Ye'll + die fighting, will ye? Aye, it's a gay, high-sounding sentiment, ma + mannie, but ye'll no dae it, do ye hear? Ye'll no slip from me now. I've + got ma grip on ye. Ye'll die sober, and ye'll live the longest time ye can + before ye die. Have ye a wife, Mr. Hobson? + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>points upwards</i>.) + </p> + <p> + In bed? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Higher than that. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. It's a pity. A man like you should keep a wife handy. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm not so partial to women. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Women are a necessity, sir. Have ye no female relative that can + manage ye? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Manage? + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Keep her thumb firm on ye? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've got three daughters, Doctor MacFarlane, and they tried to + keep their thumbs on me. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Well? Where are they? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Married—and queerly married. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. You drove them to it. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. They all grew uppish. Maggie worst of all. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Maggie? Then I'll tell ye what ye'll do, Mr. Hobson. You will get + Maggie back. At any price. At all costs to your pride, as your medical man + I order you to get Maggie back. (<i>Movement from</i> HOBSON.) I don't + know Maggie, but I prescribe her, and—damn ye, sir, are ye going to + defy me again? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I tell you I won't have it. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. You'll have to have it. You're a dunderheaded lump of obstinacy, + but I've taken a fancy to ye and I decline to let ye kill yeself. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've escaped from the thraldom of women once, and— + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. And a pretty mess you've made of your liberty. Now this Maggie ye + mention—if ye'll tell me where she's to be found, I'll just step + round and have a crack with her maself, for I've gone beyond the sparing + of a bit of trouble over ye. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You'll waste your time. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I'll cure you, Mr. Hobson. (<i>Crosses to</i> C. <i>and turns</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. She won't come back. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Oh. Now that's a possibility. If she's a sensible body I concur + with your opinion she'll no come back, but women are a soft-hearted race + and she'll maybe take pity on ye after all. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I want no pity. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. If she's the woman that I take her for ye'll get no pity. Ye'll + get discipline. + </p> + <p> + (HOBSON <i>rises and tries to speak</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Don't interrupt me, sir. I'm talking. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I've noticed it. (<i>Sits</i>.) + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. You asked me for a cure, and Maggie's the name of the cure you + need. Maggie, sir, do you hear? Maggie! + </p> + <p> + (<i>Enter</i> MAGGIE L., <i>in outdoor clothes</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What about me? + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR (<i>staggered, then</i>). Are you Maggie? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm Maggie. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Ye'll do. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>getting his breath</i>). What are you doing under my roof? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I've come because I was fetched. (<i>Coming</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Who fetched you? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Tubby Wadlow. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>rising</i>). Tubby can quit my shop this minute. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR (<i>putting him back</i>). Sit down, Mr. Hobson. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He said you're dangerously ill. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. He is. I'm Doctor MacFarlane. (<i>Coming</i> C.) Will you come and + live here again? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm married. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I know that, Mrs.— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Mossop. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Your father's drinking himself to death, Mrs. Mossop. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Look here, Doctor, what's passed between you and me isn't for + everybody's ears. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I judge your daughter's not the sort to want the truth wrapped + round with a feather-bed for fear it hits her hard. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>nodding appreciatively</i>). Go on. I'd like to hear it all. (<i>Goes + to and sits in chair</i> R. <i>of table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Just nasty-minded curiosity. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I don't agree with you, Mr. Hobson. If Mrs. Mossop is to sacrifice + her own home to come to you, she's every right to know the reason why. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Sacrifice! If you saw her home you'd find another word than that. + Two cellars in Oldfield Road. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm waiting, Doctor. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. I've a constitutional objection to seeing patients slip through ma + fingers when it's avoidable, Mrs. Mossop, and I'll do ma best for your + father, but ma medicine will na do him any good without your medicine to + back me up. He needs a tight hand on him all the time. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I've not same chance I had before I married. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Ye'll have no chance at all unless ye come and live here. I willna + talk about the duty of a daughter because I doubt he's acted badly by ye, + but on the broad grounds of humanity, it's saving life if ye'll come— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I might. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Nay, but will ye? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You've told me what you think. The rest's my business. (<i>Rises + and goes</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. That's right, Maggie. (<i>To</i> DOCTOR.) That's what you get for + interfering with folks' private affairs. So now you can go, with your tail + between your legs, Doctor MacFarlane. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. On the contrary, I am going, Mr. Hobson, with the profound + conviction that I leave you in excellent hands. (R. <i>of table</i>.) One + prescription is on the table, Mrs. Mossop. The other two are total + abstinence and—you. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>nodding amiably</i>). Good morning. + </p> + <p> + DOCTOR. Good morning. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Exit</i> DOCTOR L. MAGGIE <i>picks up prescription and follows to door</i>, + L.) MAGGIE. Tubby! + </p> + <p> + (<i>She stands by door</i>, TUBBY <i>just enters inside it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + Go round to Oldfield Road and ask my husband to come here and get this + made up at Hallow's on your way back. + </p> + <p> + TUBBY. Yes, Miss—Mrs. Mossop. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Tell Mr. Mossop that I want him quick. + </p> + <p> + (TUBBY <i>nods and goes</i>. MAGGIE <i>goes</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Maggie, you know I can't be an abstainer. A man of my habits. At + my time of life. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You can if I come here to make you. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Are you coming? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I don't know yet. I haven't asked my husband. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You ask Will Mossop! Maggie, I'd better thoughts of you. Making an + excuse like that to me. If you want to come you'll come so what Will + Mossop says and well you know it. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I don't want to come, father. I expect no holiday existence here + with you to keep in health. But if Will tells me it's my duty I shall + come. (<i>Sits</i> R. <i>of table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You know as well as I do asking Will's a matter of form. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Matter of form! (<i>Rises and moves</i> R.) My husband a matter of + form! He's the— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I dare say, but he is not the man that wears the breeches at your + house. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. My husband's my husband, father, so whatever else he is. And my + home's my home, and all and what you said of it now to Doctor MacFarlane's + a thing you'll pay for. It's no gift to a married woman to come back to + the home she's shut of. (<i>Moves back</i> R. C.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Look here, Maggie, you're talking straight and I'll talk straight + and all. When I'm set I'm set. You're coming here. I didn't want you when + that doctor said it, but, by gum, I want you now. It's been my daughters' + hobby crossing me. Now you'll come and look after me. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. All of us? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. No. Not all of you. You're eldest. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. There's another man with claims on me. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'll give him claims. Aren't I your father? + </p> + <p> + (ALICE <i>enters</i> L. <i>She is rather elaborately dressed for so early + in the day, and languidly haughty</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And I'm not your only daughter. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. You been here long, Maggie? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. A while. + </p> + <p> + ALICE (L.C.). Ah, well, a fashionable solicitor's wife doesn't rise so + early as the wife of a working cobbler. You'd be up when Tubby came. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. A couple of hours earlier. (<i>Moves up</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE (<i>going to</i> HOBSON). You're looking all right, father. You've + quite a colour. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm very ill. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>sitting</i> R. <i>of table</i>). He's not so well, Alice. The + doctor says one of us must come and live here to look after him. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I live in the Crescent myself. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I've heard it was that way on. Somebody's home will have to go. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I don't think I can be expected to come back to this after what + I've been used to lately. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Alice! + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Well, I say it ought to be Maggie, father. She's the eldest. (<i>Moves + to above table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. And I say you're— + </p> + <p> + (<i>What she is we don't learn, as</i> VICKEY <i>enters effectively and + goes effusively to</i> HOBSON, R. ALICE <i>moves round to</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Father, you're ill! (<i>Embracing him</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Vickey! My baby! At last I find a daughter who cares for me. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Of course I care. Don't the others? (<i>Releasing herself from his + grasp</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. You will live with me, Vickey, won't you? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. What? (<i>She stands away from him</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. One of us is needed to look after him. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Oh, but it can't be me. In my circumstances, Maggie! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What circumstances? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Don't you know? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. No. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>whispers to</i> MAGGIE.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. What's the matter? What are you all whispering about? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Father, don't you think you ought to put a collar on before Will + comes? (<i>Goes to him</i>, R.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Put a collar on for Will Mossop? There's something wrong with your + sense of proportion, my girl. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>moving</i> C.). You're always pretending to folk about your + husband, Maggie, but you needn't keep it up with us. We know Will here. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Father, either I can go home or you can go and put a collar on for + Will. I'll have him treated with respect. (<i>Going up to window</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. I expect you'd put a collar on in any case, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>rising</i>). Of course I should. I'm going to put a collar on. + But understand me, Maggie, it's not for the sake of Will Mossop. It's + because my neck is cold. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Exit</i> HOBSON R.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>coming down</i>). Now, then, which of us is it to be? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It's no use looking at me like that, Maggie. I've told you I'm + expecting. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I don't see that that rules you out. It might happen to any of us. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Maggie! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What's the matter? Children do happen to married women, and we're + all married. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Well, I'm not going to break my home up and that's flat. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. My child comes first with me. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I see. You've got a house of furniture, and you've got a child + coming, so father can drink himself to death for you. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. That's not fair speaking. I'd come if there were no one else. You + know very well it's your duty, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Duty? I should think it 'ud be a pleasure to live here after a + year of two cellars. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I've had thirty years of the pleasure of living with father, + thanks. (<i>Going to chair</i> R. <i>of table and sitting</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Do you mean to say you won't come? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It isn't for me to say at all. It's for my husband. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Oh, do stop talking about your husband. If Alice and I don't need + to ask our husbands, I'm sure you never need ask yours. Will Mossop hasn't + the spirit of a louse and we know it as well as you do. (<i>Crosses to + fire-place</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Maybe Will's come on since you saw him, Vickey. It's getting a + while ago. There he is now in the shop. I'll go and put it to him. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Rises and exits</i> MAGGIE L.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Stop her! (<i>Going to door</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE (<i>detaining her</i>). Let her do it in her own way. I'm not coming + back here. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (R. <i>of</i> ALICE). Nor me. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. There's only Maggie for it. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Yes. But we've got to be careful, Alice. She mustn't have things + too much her way. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. It's our way as well, isn't it? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Not coming is our way. But when she's with him alone and we're not—(<i>Stopping</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Yes. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Can't you see what I'm thinking, Alice? It is so difficult to say. + Suppose poor father gets worse and they are here, Maggie and Will, and you + and I—out of sight and out of mind. Can't you see what I mean? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. He might leave them his money! + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. That would be most unfair to us. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Father must make his will at once. Albert shall draw it up. (<i>Goes</i> + R.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. That's it, Alice. And don't let's leave Maggie too long with Will. + She's only telling him what to say, and then she'll pretend he thought of + it himself. (<i>She opens door left</i>.) Why, Will, what are you doing up + the ladder? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>off</i> L). I'm looking over the stock. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>indignantly</i>). It's father's stock, not yours. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. That's so. But if I'm to come into a thing I like to know what I'm + coming into. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. That's never Willie Mossop. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>still by door</i>). Are you coming into this? + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>enters</i> L. MAGGIE <i>follows him. He is not aggressive, but he + is prosperous and has self-confidence. Against</i> ALICE <i>and</i> VICKEY + <i>he is consciously on his mettle</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. That's the proposal, isn't it? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (C.). I didn't know it was. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Now, then, Maggie, go and bring your father down and be sharp. I'm + busy at my shop, so what they are at his. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>takes</i> WILL'S <i>hat off and puts it on settee, then exits + up</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + It's been a good business in its day, too, has Hobson's. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. What on earth do you mean? It's a good business still. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. You try to sell it, and you'd learn. Stock and goodwill 'ud fetch + about two hundred. (<i>Goes</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Don't talk so foolish, Will. Two hundred for a business like + father's! + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Two hundred as it is. Not as it was in our time, Vickey. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Do you mean to tell me father isn't rich? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. If you'd not married into the law you'd know what they think of + your father to-day in trading circles. Vickey ought to know. Her husband's + in trade. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY (<i>indignantly</i>). My Fred in trade! + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Isn't he? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. He's in the wholesale. That's business, not trade. And the value + of father's shop is no affair of yours, Will Mossop. (<i>Moves</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Now I thought maybe it was. If Maggie and me are coming here— + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. You're coming to look after father. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Maggie can do that with one hand tied behind her back. I'll look + after the business. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. You'll do what's arranged for you. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'll do the arranging, Alice. If we come here, we come here on my + terms. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. They'll be fair terms. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'll see they're fair to me and Maggie. (<i>Goes</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Will Mossop, do you know who you're talking to? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>turning</i>). Aye. My wife's young sisters. Times have changed + a bit since you used to order me about this shop, haven't they, Alice? + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Yes. I'm Mrs. Albert Prosser now. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. So you are, to outsiders. And you'd be surprised the number of + people that call me Mr. Mossop now. We do get on in the world, don't we? + (ALICE <i>moves up stage</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Some folks get on too fast. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It's a matter of opinion. (<i>Coming</i> C.) I know Maggie and me + gave both of you a big leg up when we arranged your marriage portions, but + I dunno that we're grudging you the sudden lift you got. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Enter</i> HOBSON <i>and</i> MAGGIE.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Good morning, father. I'm sorry to hear you're not so well. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm a changed man, Will. (<i>He comes down and sits on arm-chair</i>, + R.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. There used to be room for improvement. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. What! (<i>He starts up</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Sit down, father. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>sitting</i> R. <i>of table</i>). Aye. Don't let us be too long + about this. You've kept me waiting now a good while and my time's + valuable. I'm busy at my shop. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Is your shop more important than my life? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. That's a bit like asking if a pound of tea weighs heavier than a + pound of lead. I'm worrited about your life because it worrits Maggie, but + I'm none worrited that bad I'll see my business suffer for the sake of + you. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. This isn't what I've a right to expect from you, Will. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. You've no <i>right</i> to expect I care whether you sink or swim. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Will! + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. What's to do? You told me to take a high hand, didn't you? + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>sits down</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. And we're to stay here and watch Maggie and Will abusing father + when he's ill. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Positions now</i>: MAGGIE <i>sitting down</i> R., HOBSON <i>sitting in + armchair</i>, ALICE <i>standing behind and between them</i>, VICKEY <i>standing</i> + L. <i>of table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. No need for you to stay. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. That's a true word, Will Mossop. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Father! You take his side against your flesh and blood. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. That doesn't come too well from you, my girl. Neither of you would + leave your homes to come to care for me. You're not for me, so you're + against me. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. We're not against you, father. We want to stay and see that Will + deals fairly by you. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Oh, I'm not capable of looking after myself, amn't I? I've to be + protected by you girls lest I'm overreached, and overreached by whom? By + Willie Mossop! I may be ailing, but I've fight enough left in me for a + dozen such as him, and if you're thinking that the manhood's gone from me, + you can go and think it somewhere else than in my house. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. But father—dear father— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm not so dear to you if you'd to think twice about coming here + to do for me, let alone jibbing at it the way you did. A proper daughter + would have jumped—aye, skipped like a calf by the cedars of Lebanon—at + the thought of being helpful to her father. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Did Maggie skip? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. She's a bit ancient for skipping exercise, is Maggie; but she's + coming round to reconcilement with the thought of living here, and that is + more than you are doing, Alice, isn't it? Eh? Are you willing to come? + </p> + <p> + ALICE (<i>sullenly</i>). No. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Or you, Vickey? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. It's my child, father. I— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Never mind what it is. Are you coming or not? + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. No. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Then you that aren't willing can leave me to talk with them that + are. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Do you mean that we're to go? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I understand you've homes to go to. + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Oh, father! + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Open the door for them, Will. + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>rises, crosses, and opens door</i>. ALICE <i>and</i> VICKEY <i>stare + in silent anger. Then</i> ALICE <i>sweeps to her gloves on the table</i>.) + </p> + <p> + ALICE. Vickey! + </p> + <p> + (ALICE <i>moves on towards door</i>.) + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Well, I don't know! + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE (<i>from her chair by the fire-place</i>). We'll be glad to see you + here at tea-time on a Sunday afternoon if you'll condescend to come + sometimes. + </p> + <p> + VICKEY. Beggars on horseback. + </p> + <p> + (VICKEY <i>and</i> ALICE <i>pass out</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILL (<i>closing door</i>). Nay, come, there's no ill-will. (He <i>returns + to table and sits</i> R. <i>of it</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Now, my lad, I'll tell you what I'll do. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Aye, we can come to grips better now there are no fine ladies + about. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. They've got stiff necks with pride, and the difference between you + two and them's a thing I ought to mark and that I'm going to mark. There's + times for holding back and times for letting loose, and being generous. + Now, you're coming here, to this house, both of you, and you can have the + back bedroom for your own and the use of this room split along with me. + Maggie 'ull keep house, and if she's time to spare she can lend a hand in + the shop. I'm finding Will a job. You can come back to your old bench in + the cellar, Will, and I'll pay you the old wage of eighteen shillings a + week and you and me 'ull go equal whacks in the cost of the housekeeping, + and if that's not handsome, I dunno what is. I'm finding you a house rent + free and paying half the keep of your wife. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Come home, Maggie. (<i>He rises, goes</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I think I'll have to. (<i>She rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Whatever's the hurry for? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It may be news to you—(<i>moving a little</i> R.),—but + I've a business round in Oldfield Road and I'm neglecting it with wasting + my time here. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Wasting time? Maggie, what's the matter with Will? I've made him a + proposal. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. He's a shop of his own to see to, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. (<i>incredulous</i>). A man who's offered a job at Hobson's + doesn't want to worry with a shop of his own in a wretched cellar in + Oldfield Road. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Shall I tell him, Maggie, or shall we go? + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Go! I don't want to keep a man who—(<i>Rises</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. If he goes, I go with him, father. You'd better speak out, Will. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. All right, I will. We've been a year in yon wretched cellar and do + you know what we've done? We've paid off Mrs. Hepworth what she lent us + for our start and made a bit o' brass on top o' that. We've got your + high-class trade away from you. That shop's a cellar, and as you say, it's + wretched, but they come to us in it, and they don't come to you. Your + trade's gone down till all you sell is clogs. You've got no trade, and me + and Maggie's got it all and now you're on your bended knees to her to come + and live with you, and all you think to offer me is my old job at eighteen + shillings a week. Me that's the owner of a business that is starving yours + to death. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. But—but—you're Will Mossop, you're my old shoe hand. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Aye. I were, but I've moved on a bit since then. Your daughter + married me and set about my education. And—and now I'll tell you + what I'll do and it'll be the handsome thing and all from me to you. I'll + close my shop— + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Oh! That doesn't sound like doing so well. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'm doing well, but I'll do better here. I'll transfer to this + address and what I'll do that's generous is this: I'll take you into + partnership and give you your half-share on the condition you're sleeping + partner and you don't try interference on with me. (<i>Goes</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. A partner! You—here— + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. William Mossop, late Hobson, is the name this shop 'ull have. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Wait a bit, Will. I don't agree to that. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>over to her</i>). Oh, so you have piped up at last. I began to + think you'd both lost your senses together. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It had better not be "late Hobson." + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (L. C.). Well, I meant it should. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Just wait a bit. I want to know if I'm taking this in aright. (<i>Moves</i> + R. C.) I'm to be given a half-share in my own business on condition I take + no part in running it. Is that what you said? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. That's it. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Well, I've heard of impudence before, but— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. It's all right, father. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. But did you hear what he said? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Yes. That's settled. Quite settled, father. (<i>Pushing him</i>.) + It's only the name we're arguing about. (<i>To</i> WILL.) I won't have + "late Hobson's", Will. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. I'm not dead, yet, my lad, and I'll show you I'm not. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I think Hobson and Mossop is best. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. His name on my sign-board! + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. The best I'll do is this: Mossop and Hobson. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. No. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Mossop and Hobson or it's Oldfield Road for us, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Very well. Mossop and Hobson. + </p> + <p> + (WILL <i>moves</i> L.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. But— + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>moves up stage</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>opening door and looking through</i>). I'll make some + alterations in this shop, and all. I will so. (<i>He goes through door and + returns at once with a battered cane chair</i>.) + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Alterations in my shop! (<i>Goes</i> C.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. In mine. Look at that chair. How can you expect the high-class + customers to come and sit on a chair like that? Why, we'd only a cellar, + but they did sit on cretonne for their trying on. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Cretonne! It's pampering folk. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>comes down stage</i> R.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Cretonne for a cellar, and morocco for this shop. Folk like to be + pampered. Pampering pays. (<i>He takes the chair out and returns + immediately</i>.) There'll be a carpet on that floor, too. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. Carpet! Morocco! Young man, do you think this shop is in Saint + Ann's Square, Manchester? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Not yet. But it is going to be. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON. What does he mean? (<i>Appealing to heaven</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. It's no farther from Chapel Street to Saint Ann's Square than it + is from Oldfield Road to Chapel Street. I've done one jump in a year and + if I wait a bit I'll do the other. (HOBSON <i>sits</i> R. <i>of table</i>.) + Maggie, I reckon your father could do with a bit of fresh air after this. + I dare say it's come sudden to him. Suppose you walk with him to Albert + Prosser's office and get Albert to draw up the deed of partnership. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>looking pathetically first at</i> MAGGIE, <i>then at</i> + WILLIE, <i>rising obediently</i>). I'll go and get my hat. + </p> + <p> + (<i>Exit</i> HOBSON R.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. He's crushed-like, Maggie. I'm afraid I bore on him too hard. (<i>Going</i> + R. C.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You needn't be. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I said such things to him, and they sounded as if I meant them, + too. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Didn't you? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Did I? Yes ... I suppose I did. That's just the worst ... from me + to him. You told me to be strong and use the power that's come to me + through you, but he's the old master, and— + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. And you're the new. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Master of Hobson's! It's an outrageous big idea. Did I sound + confident, Maggie? + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You did all right. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>sits</i> R. <i>of table</i>). Eh, but I weren't by half so + certain as I sounded. Words came from my mouth that made me jump at my own + boldness, and when it came to facing you about the name, I tell you I fair + trembled in my shoes. I was carried away like, or I'd not have dared to + cross you, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Don't spoil it, Will. (<i>Moves to him</i>.) You're the man I've + made you and I'm proud. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. Thy pride is not in same street, lass, with the pride I have in + you. And that reminds me. (<i>Rises, moves up and gets his hat</i>.) I've + a job to see to. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What job? + </p> + <p> + WILLIE (<i>coming down</i> L.). Oh—about the improvements. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. You'll not do owt without consulting me. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I'll do this, lass. (<i>Goes to and takes her hand</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. What are you doing? You leave my wedding ring alone. (<i>Wrenches + hand free</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. You've worn a brass one long enough. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'll wear that ring for ever, Will. + </p> + <p> + WILLIE. I was for getting you a proper one, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. I'm not preventing you. I'll wear your gold for show, but that + brass stays where you put it, Will, and if we get too rich and proud we'll + just sit down together quiet and take a long look at it, so as we'll not + forget the truth about ourselves ... Eh, lad! (<i>She touches him + affectionately</i>.) + </p> + <p> + WILL. Eh, lass! (<i>He kisses her</i>.) + </p> + <p> + (<i>Enter</i> HOBSON R. <i>with his hat on</i>.) + </p> + <p> + MAGGIE. Ready, father. Come along to Albert's. + </p> + <p> + HOBSON (<i>meekly</i>). Yes, Maggie. + </p> + <p> + (MAGGIE <i>and</i> HOBSON <i>cross below</i> WILL <i>and go out</i> L. + WILL <i>comes down with amazement, triumph and incredulity written on his + face, and attempts to express the inexpressible by saying</i>—) + </p> + <p> + WILL. Well, by gum! (<i>He turns to follow the others</i>.) + </p> + <h3> + CURTAIN. + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hobson's Choice, by Harold Brighouse + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOBSON'S CHOICE *** + +***** This file should be named 6347-h.htm or 6347-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/4/6347/ + + +Text file produced by Delphine Lettau, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by 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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