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diff --git a/old/hbsnc10.txt b/old/hbsnc10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ba82ce --- /dev/null +++ b/old/hbsnc10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4847 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hobson's Choice, by Harold Brighouse + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Hobson's Choice + +Author: Harold Brighouse + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6347] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on November 29, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOBSON'S CHOICE *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +HOBSON'S CHOICE + +A Lancashire Comedy in Four Acts + +BY + +HAROLD BRIGHOUSE + + + +_Hobson's Choice_ was originally produced in America. Its +first English production took place on June 22, 1916, at the +Apollo Theatre, London, with the following cast: + + ALICE HOBSON . . . . . . . . _Miss Lydia Bilbrooke_. + MAGGIE HOBSON . . . . . . . . _Miss Edyth Goodall_. + VICKEY HOBSON . . . . . . . . _Miss Hilda Davies_. + ALBERT PROSSER . . . . . . . . _Mr. Reginald Fry_. + HENRY HORATIO HOBSON . . . . . . _Mr. Norman McKinnel_. + MRS. HEPWORTH . . . . . . . . _Miss Dora Gregory_. + TIMOTHY WADLOW (TUBBY). . . . . . _Mr. Sydney Paxton_. + WILLIAM MOSSOP . . . . . . . . _Mr. Joe Nightingale_. + JIM HEELER . . . . . . . . . _Mr. J. Cooke Beresford_. + ADA FIGGINS . . . . . . . . . _Miss Mary Byron_. + FRED BEENSTOCK . . . . . . . . _Mr. Jefferson Gore_. + DR. MACFARLANE . . . . . . . . _Mr. J. Fisher White_. + +The play produced by MR. NORMAN McKINNEL. + +_The_ SCENE _is Salford, Lancashire, and the period is +1880_. + +ACT I. _Interior of_ HOBSON'S _Shop in Chapel Street_. + +ACT II. _The same scene_. + +ACT III. WILL MOSSOP'S _Shop_. + +ACT IV. _Living-room of_ HOBSON'S _Shop_. + + + +PUBLISHER'S NOTE. + +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. + +[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. + +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. + + + + +HOBSON'S CHOICE + +ACT 1 + +_The_ SCENE _represents the interior of_ HOBSON'S +_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_ HOBSON'S _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. + +Sitting behind the counter are_ HOBSON'S _two younger +daughters,_ ALICE, R., _who is twenty-three, and_ +VICTORIA, L., _who is twenty-one, and very pretty_. ALICE +_is knitting and_ VICTORIA _is reading. They are in black, +with neat black aprons. The door_ R. _opens, and_ MAGGIE +_enters. She is_ HOBSON'S _eldest daughter, thirty_. + +ALICE. Oh, it's you. I hoped it was father going out. + +MAGGIE. It isn't. (_She crosses and takes her place at desk_ +L.) + +ALICE. He _is_ late this morning. + +MAGGIE. He got up late. (_She busies herself with an account +book_.) + +VICKEY. (_reading_). Has he had breakfast yet, Maggie? + +MAGGIE. Breakfast! With a Masons' meeting last night! + +VICKEY. He'll need reviving. + +ALICE. Then I wish he'd go and do it. + +VICKEY. Are you expecting anyone, Alice? + +ALICE. Yes, I am, and you know I am, and I'll thank you both to +go when he comes. + +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. + +(ALBERT PROSSER _enters from the street. He is twenty-six, +nicely dressed, as the son of an established solicitor would be. +He crosses to_ R. _and raises his hat to _ALICE.) + +ALBERT. Good morning, Miss Alice. + +ALICE. Good morning, Mr. Prosser. (_She leans across +counter_.) Father's not gone out yet. He's late. + +ALBERT. Oh! (_He turns to go, and is half-way to door, when +MAGGIE rises_.) + +MAGGIE (_coming_ C.). What can we do for you, Mr. Prosser? + +ALBERT (_stopping_). Well, I can't say that I came in to buy +anything, Miss Hobson. + +MAGGIE. This is a shop, you know. We're not here to let people go +out without buying. + +ALBERT. Well, I'll just have a pair of bootlaces, please. +(_Moves slightly to_ R.) + +MAGGIE. What size do you take in boots? + +ALBERT. Eights. I've got small feet. (_He simpers, then +perceives that_ MAGGIE _is by no means smiling_.) Does +that matter to the laces? + +MAGGIE (_putting mat in front of arm-chair_ R. C.) It matters +to the boots. (_She pushes him slightly_.) Sit down, Mr. Prosser. + +ALBERT (_sitting in arm-chair_ R. C.) Yes, but-- + +(MAGGIE _is on her knees and takes off his boot_.) + +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. + +ALICE (_moving down a little_). Mr. Prosser didn't come in +to buy boots, Maggie. + +(VICKEY _comes down to_ MAGGIE _with box which she +opens_.) + +MAGGIE. I wonder what does bring him in here so often! + +(ALICE _moves back to behind counter_.) + +ALBERT. I'm terrible hard on bootlaces, Miss Hobson. + +(MAGGIE _puts a new boot on him and laces it_.) + +MAGGIE. Do you get through a pair a day? You must be strong. + +ALBERT. I keep a little stock of them. It's as well to be +prepared for accidents. + +MAGGIE. And now you'll have boots to go with the laces, Mr. +Prosser. How does that feel? + +ALBERT. Very comfortable. + +MAGGIE. Try it standing up. + +ALBERT (_trying and walking a few steps_). Yes, that fits +all right. + +MAGGIE. I'll put the other on. + +ALBERT. Oh no, I really don't want to buy them. + +MAGGIE (_pushing him_). Sit down, Mr. Prosser. You can't go +through the streets in odd boots. + +(ALICE _comes down again_.) + +ALBERT. What's the price of these? + +MAGGIE. A pound. + +ALBERT. A pound! I say-- + +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 +_goes back to counter_.) 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. + +ALBERT. These--these will do. + +MAGGIE. Very well, you'd better have the old pair mended and I'll +send them home to you with the bill. (_She has laced the second +boot, rises, and moves towards desk_ L., _throwing the boot +box at_ VICKEY, _who gives a little scream at the +interruption of her reading_. ALBERT _gasps_.) + +ALBERT. Well, if anyone had told me I was coming in here to spend +a pound I'd have called him crazy. + +MAGGIE. It's not wasted. Those boots will last. Good morning, Mr. +Prosser. (_She holds door open_.) + +ALBERT. Good morning. (_He looks blankly at_ ALICE _and +goes out_.) + +ALICE. Maggie, we know you're a pushing sales-woman, but-- + +MAGGIE (_returning to_ R. _she picks up old boots and puts +them on rack up_ R.). It'll teach him to keep out of here a +bit. He's too much time on his hands. + +ALICE. You know why he comes. + +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. (_Crosses in front of +counter to_ L.) + +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? + +MAGGIE. If he wants to marry you why doesn't he do it? + +ALICE. Courting must come first. + +MAGGIE. It needn't. (_She picks up a slipper on desk_ 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. +(_She replaces slipper and sits at her desk_.) + +(HENRY HORATIO HOBSON _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_.) + +HOBSON. Maggie, I'm just going out for a quarter of an hour. +(_Moves over to doors_ L.) + +MAGGIE. Yes, father. Don't be late for dinner. There's liver. + +HOBSON. It's an hour off dinner-time. (_Going_.) + +MAGGIE. So that, if you stay more than an hour in the Moonraker's +Inn, you'll be late for it. + +HOBSON. "Moonraker's?" Who said--? (_Turning_.) + +VICKEY. If your dinner's ruined, it'll be your own fault. + +HOBSON. Well, I'll be eternally-- + +ALICE. Don't swear, father. + +HOBSON (_putting hat on counter_). No. I'll sit down +instead. (_He moves to_ R. C. _and sits in arm-chair_ +R. +C. _facing them_.) 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. + +MAGGIE. I expect Mr. Heeler's waiting for you in "Moonraker's," +father. + +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. + +VICKEY. Father, you'd have more time to talk after we've closed +to-night. (_She is anxious to resume her reading_.) + +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. + +VICKEY. I'm sure I'm not bumptious, father. + +HOBSON. Yes, you are. You're pretty, but you're bumptious, and I +hate bumptiousness like I hate a lawyer. + +ALICE. If we take trouble to feed you it's not bumptious to ask +you not to be late for your food. + +VICKEY. Give and take, father. + +HOBSON. I give and you take, and it's going to end. + +MAGGIE. How much a week do you give us? + +HOBSON. That's neither here nor there. (_Rises and moves to +doors_ L.) At moment I'm on uppishness, and I'm warning you +your conduct towards your parent's got to change. (_Turns to +the counter_.) 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. + +VICKEY. I don't know what you're talking about. + +HOBSON. Vickey, you're pretty, but you can lie like a gas-meter. +Who had new dresses on last week? + +ALICE. I suppose you mean Vickey and me! + +HOBSON. I do. + +VICKEY. We shall dress as we like, father, and you can save your +breath. + +HOBSON. I'm not stopping in from my business appointment for the +purpose of saving my breath. + +VICKEY. You like to see me in nice clothes. + +HOBSON. I do. I like to see my daughters nice. (_Crosses_ +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. (_Moves_ L.) I saw +you and Alice out of the "Moonraker's" parlour on Thursday night +and my friend Sam Minns--(_Turns_.) + +ALICE. A publican. + +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. + +VICKEY (_scandalized_). Father! + +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! + +ALICE. It is not immodest, father. It's the fashion to wear +bustles. + +HOBSON. Then to hell with the fashion. + +MAGGIE. Father, you are not in the "Moonraker's" now. + +VICKEY. You should open your eyes to what other ladies wear. +(_Rises_.) + +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 _sits_)--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. + +VICKEY. Do you want us to dress like mill girls? + +HOBSON. No. Nor like French Madams, neither. It's un-English, I +say. + +ALICE. We shall continue to dress fashionably, father. + +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. + +ALICE. Can't we choose husbands for ourselves? + +HOBSON. I've been telling you for the last five minutes you're +not even fit to choose dresses for yourselves. + +MAGGIE. You're talking a lot to Vickey and Alice, father. Where +do I come in? + +HOBSON. You? (_Turning on her, astonished_.) + +MAGGIE. If you're dealing husbands round, don't I get one? + +HOBSON. Well, that's a good one! (_Laughs_.) You with a +husband! (_Down in front of desk_.) + +MAGGIE. Why not? + +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. + +MAGGIE. I'm thirty. + +HOBSON (_facing her_). 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. (_He picks up hat and makes for door_.) + +MAGGIE. One o'clock dinner, father. + +HOBSON. See here, Maggie,--(_back again down to in front of +desk_)--I set the hours at this house. It's one o'clock dinner +because I say it is, and not because you do. + +MAGGIE. Yes, father. + +HOBSON. So long as that's clear I'll go. (_He is by door_.) +Oh no, I won't. Mrs. Hepworth's getting out of her carriage. + +(_He puts hat on counter again_. MAGGIE _rises and opens +door. Enter_ MRS. HEPWORTH, _an old lady with a curt manner +and good clothes_.) + +Good morning, Mrs. Hepworth. What a lovely day. (_He +crosses_ R. _and places chair_.) + +MRS. HEPWORTH (_sitting in arm-chair_ R. C.). Morning, +Hobson. (_She raises her skirt_.) I've come about those +boots you sent me home. + +HOBSON (_kneeling on_ MRS. HEPWORTH'S R., _and fondling +foot_. MAGGIE _is_ C.). Yes, Mrs. Hepworth. They look +very nice. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Get up, Hobson. (_He scrambles up, controlling +his feelings_.) You look ridiculous on the floor. Who made +these boots? + +HOBSON. We did. Our own make. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Will you answer a plain question? Who made these +boots? + +HOBSON. They were made on the premises. + +MRS. HEPWORTH (_to_ MAGGIE). Young woman, you seemed to have +some sense when you served me. Can you answer me? + +MAGGIE. I think so, but I'll make sure for you, Mrs. Hepworth. +(_She opens trap and calls_.) Tubby! + +HOBSON (_down_ R.). You wish to see the identical workman, +madam? + +MRS. HEPWORTH. I said so. + +HOBSON. I am responsible for all work turned out here. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. I never said you weren't. + +(TUBBY WADLOW _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_.) + +TUBBY. Yes, Miss Maggie? (_He stands half out of trap, not +coming right up_.) + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Man, did you make these boots? (_She rises and +advances one pace towards him_.) + +TUBBY. No, ma'am. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Then who did? Am I to question every soul in the +place before I find out? (_Looking round_.) + +TUBBY. They're Willie's making, those. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Then tell Willie I want him. + +TUBBY. Certainly, ma'am. (_He goes down trap and calls_ +"Willie!") + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Who's Willie? + +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-- + +(WILLIE MOSSOP _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_ +TUBBY'S. _He comes half-way up trap_.) + +MRS. HEPWORTH (_standing_ R. _of trap_). Are you +Mossop? + +WILLIE. Yes, mum. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. You made these boots? + +WILLIE (_peering at them_). Yes, I made them last week. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Take that. + +(WILLIE, _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_.) + +See what's on it? + +WILLIE (_bending over the card_). Writing? + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Read it. + +WILLIE. I'm trying. (_His lips move as he tries to spell it +out_.) + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Bless the man. Can't you read? + +WILLIE. I do a bit. Only it's such funny print. + +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. + +HOBSON (_moving slightly towards her_). I assure you it +shall not occur again, Mrs. Hepworth. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. What shan't? + +HOBSON (_crestfallen_). I--I don't know. + +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? + +(MAGGIE, _down_ L. C., _is taking it all in_.) + +HOBSON. Yes, madam, of course he shall. + +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. + +HOBSON. Oh, he won't make a change. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. How do you know? The man's a treasure, and I +expect you underpay him. + +HOBSON. That'll do, Willie. You can go. + +WILLIE. Yes, sir. + +(_He dives down trap_. MAGGIE _closes it_.) + +MRS. HEPWORTH. He's like a rabbit. + +MAGGIE. Can I take your order for another pair of boots, Mrs. +Hepworth? + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Not yet, young woman. But I shall send my +daughters here. And, mind you, that man's to make the boots. +(_She crosses_ L.) + +MAGGIE. (_Up at doors and opening them_.) Certainly, Mrs. +Hepworth. + +MRS. HEPWORTH. Good morning. + +HOBSON. Good morning, Mrs. Hepworth. Very glad to have the honour +of serving you, madam. (_Following her up_.) + +(_She goes out_.) + +(_Angry_.) I wish some people would mind their own business. +What does she want to praise a workman to his face for? (_Moves +down_ L. _and then to_ C.) + +MAGGIE. I suppose he deserved it. + +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. + +MAGGIE. Don't be silly, father. + +HOBSON. I'll show her. Thinks she owns the earth because she +lives at Hope Hall. + +(_Enter from street_ JIM HEELER, _who is a grocer, and_ +HOBSON'S _boon companion_.) + +JIM (_looking down street as he enters_). That's a bit of a +startler. + +HOBSON (_swinging round_). Eh? Oh, morning, Jim. + +JIM. You're doing a good class trade if the carriage folk come to +you, Hobson. (_Moves down_ L. C.) + +HOBSON. What? + +JIM. Wasn't that Mrs. Hepworth? + +HOBSON. Oh yes. Mrs. Hepworth's an old and valued customer of +mine. + +JIM. It's funny you deal with Hope Hall and never mentioned it. + +HOBSON. Why, I've made boots for her and all her circle for... +how long, Maggie? Oh, I dunno. + +JIM. You kept it dark. Well, aren't you coming round yonder? +(_Moving up_ L.) + +HOBSON (_reaching for his hat_). Yes. That is, no. + +JIM. Are you ill? + +HOBSON. No. Get away, you girls. I'll look after the shop. I want +to talk to Mr. Heeler. + +JIM. Well, can't you talk in the "Moonraker's"! + +(_The girls go out_ R. _to house_, MAGGIE _last_.) + +HOBSON. Yes, with Sam Minns, and Denton and Tudsbury there. + +JIM. It's private, then. What's the trouble, Henry? + +(HOBSON _waves_ JIM _into arm-chair_ R. C. _and sits +in front of counter_.) + +HOBSON. They're the trouble. (_Indicates door to house_.) Do +your daughters worry you, Jim? + +JIM. Nay,--(_sits_ R. C.)--they mostly do as I bid them, and +the missus does the leathering if they don't. + +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. + +JIM. It sounds a sad case, Henry. + +HOBSON. I'm a talkative man by nature, Jim. You know that. + +JIM. You're an orator, Henry. I doubt John Bright himself is +better gifted of the gab than you. + +HOBSON. Nay, that's putting it a bit too strong. A good case +needs no flattery. + +JIM. Well, you're the best debater in the "Moonraker's" parlour. + +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. (_Rises and moves down_ L.). + +JIM. Nay. Never! + +HOBSON. I am. (_Turns_.) 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. + +JIM. Women are worse than men for getting above themselves. + +HOBSON. A woman's foolishness begins where man's leaves off. + +JIM. They want a firm hand, Henry. + +HOBSON. I've lifted up my voice and roared at them. + +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. + +HOBSON. I've tried all ways, and I'm fair moithered. I dunno what +to do. (_Scratches his head_.) + +JIM. Then you quit roaring at 'em and get 'em wed. +(_Rises_.) + +HOBSON. I've thought of that. Trouble is to find the men. + +JIM. Men's common enough. Are you looking for angels in breeches? + +HOBSON. I'd like my daughters to wed temperance young men, Jim. + +JIM. You keep your ambitions within reasonable limits, Henry. +You've three daughters to find husbands for. + +HOBSON. Two, Jim, two. + +JIM. Two? + +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. + +JIM. I've seen 'em do it at double her age. Still, leaving her +out, you've two. + +HOBSON. One'll do for a start, Jim. (_Crosses to_ R.) It's a +thing I've noticed about wenches. Get one wedding in a family and +it goes through the lot like measles. (_Moves round chair to +up_ R.) + +JIM. Well, you want a man, and you want him temperance. It'll +cost you a bit, you know. (_Sits in chair below_ L. _side +of counter_.) + +HOBSON (_going to him_). Eh? Oh, I'll get my hand down for +the wedding all right. + +JIM. A warm man like you 'ull have to do more than that. There's +things called settlements. + +HOBSON. Settlements? + +JIM. Aye. You've to bait your hook to catch fish, Henry. + +HOBSON. Then I'll none go fishing. (_Sits_.) + +JIM. But you said-- + +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! + +JIM. I had a man in mind. + +HOBSON. You keep him there, Jim. I'll rub along and chance it. +Settlements indeed! + +JIM. You save their keep. + +HOBSON. They work for that. And they're none of them big eaters. + +JIM. And their wages. + +HOBSON. Wages? Do you think I pay wages to my own daughters? +(_Rises and goes to desk_ L.) I'm not a fool. + +JIM. Then it's all off? (_Rises_.) + +HOBSON (_turns_). 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. (_He +takes up hat and rings bell on counter_.) Shop! Shop! + +(MAGGIE _enters from_ R.) + +I'm going out, Maggie. + +MAGGIE (_She remains by door_). Dinner's at one, remember. + +HOBSON. Dinner will be when I come in for it. I'm master here. +(_Moves to go_.) + +MAGGIE. Yes, father. One o'clock. + +HOBSON (_disgusted_.) Come along, Jim. + +(JIM _and_ HOBSON _go out to street_. MAGGIE _turns +to speak inside_ R. _door_.) MAGGIE. Dinner at half-past +one, girls. We'll give him half an hour. (_She closes door, +turns arm-chair facing C. and moves to trap, which she raises_.) +Willie, come here. + +(_In a moment_ WILLIE _appears, and stops half-way up_.) + +WILLIE. Yes, Miss Maggie? + +MAGGIE (L. _of trap_.) Come up, and put the trap down, I +want to talk to you. + +(_He comes, reluctantly_.) + +WILLIE. We're very busy in the cellar. + +(MAGGIE _points to trap. He closes it_.) + +MAGGIE. Show me your hands, Willie. + +WILLIE. They're dirty. (_He holds them out hesitatingly_.) + +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? (_She retains his hands_.) + +WILLIE. Why, Miss Maggie, I learnt my trade here. + +MAGGIE. Hobson's never taught you to make boots the way you do. + +WILLIE. I've had no other teacher. + +MAGGIE (_dropping his hands_.) And needed none. You're a +natural born genius at making boots. It's a pity you're a natural +fool at all else. + +WILLIE. I'm not much good at owt but leather, and that's a fact. + +MAGGIE. When are you going to leave Hobson's? + +WILLIE. Leave Hobson's? I--I thought I gave satisfaction. + +MAGGIE. Don't you want to leave? + +WILLIE. Not me. I've been at Hobson's all my life, and I'm not +for leaving till I'm made. + +MAGGIE. I said you were a fool. + +WILLIE. Then I'm a loyal fool. + +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. + +WILLIE. Nay, I'd be feared to go in them fine places. + +MAGGIE. What keeps you here? Is it the--the people? + +WILLIE. I dunno what it is. I'm used to being here. + +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. + +WILLIE. You're a wonder in the shop, Miss Maggie. + +MAGGIE. And you're a marvel in the workshop. Well? + +WILLIE. Well, what? + +MAGGIE. It seems to me to point one way. + +WILLIE. What way is that? + +MAGGIE. You're leaving me to do the work, my lad. + +WILLIE. I'll be getting back to my stool, Miss Maggie. +(_Moves to trap_.) + +MAGGIE (_stopping him_). 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. + +WILLIE. What way, Miss Maggie? + +MAGGIE. Will Mossop, you're my man. Six months I've counted on +you and it's got to come out some time. + +WILLIE. But I never-- + +MAGGIE. I know you never, or it 'ud not be left to me to do the +job like this. + +WILLIE. I'll--I'll sit down. (_He sits in arm-chair, mopping +his brow_.) I'm feeling queer-like. What dost want me for? + +MAGGIE. To invest in. You're a business idea in the shape of a +man. + +WILLIE. I've got no head for business at all. + +MAGGIE. But I have. My brain and your hands 'ull make a working +partnership. + +WILLIE (_getting up, relieved_). Partnership! Oh, that's a +different thing. I thought you were axing me to wed you. +(_Moves up stage_.) + +MAGGIE. I am. + +WILLIE (_sitting in front of counter_). Well, by gum! And +you the master's daughter. + +MAGGIE. Maybe that's why, Will Mossop. (_Moving up stage_.) +Maybe I've had enough of father, and you're as different from him +as any man I know. (_Sits_ L. _of him_.) + +WILLIE. It's a bit awkward-like. + +MAGGIE. And you don't help me any, lad. What's awkward about it? + +WILLIE. You talking to me like this. + +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. + +WILLIE. I'm your best chance? + +MAGGIE. You are that, Will. + +WILLIE. Well, by gum! (_Rises_.) I never thought of this. + +MAGGIE. Think of it now. + +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. + +MAGGIE. Wait till you're asked. (_Rises_.) 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. + +WILLIE. We'd not get much without there's love between us, lass. + +MAGGIE. I've got the love all right. + +WILLIE. Well, I've not, and that's honest. + +MAGGIE. We'll get along without. + +WILLIE. You're desperate set on this. It's a puzzle to me all +ways. What 'ud your father say? + +MAGGIE. He'll say a lot, and he can say it. It'll make no +difference to me. + +WILLIE. Much better not upset him. It's not worth while. + +MAGGIE. I'm judge of that. You're going to wed me, Will. + +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. + +MAGGIE. When I make arrangements, my lad, they're not made for +upsetting. + +WILLIE. What makes it so desperate awkward is that I'm tokened. + +MAGGIE. You're what? + +WILLIE. I'm tokened to Ada Figgins. + +MAGGIE. Then you'll get loose and quick. Who's Ada Figgins? Do I +know her? (_Moves_ L. _and turns_.) + +WILLIE. I'm the lodger at her mother's. + +MAGGIE. The scheming hussy. It's not that sandy gill who brings +your dinner? (_Moves_ C.) + +WILLIE. She's golden-haired is Ada. Aye, she'll be here soon. + +MAGGIE. And so shall I. I'll talk to Ada. I've seen her and I +know the breed. Ada's the helpless sort. (_Turns_ L.) + +WILLIE. She needs protecting. + +MAGGIE. That's how she got you, was it? (_Turns_ 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. + +WILLIE. Ada does. + +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. + +WILLIE. I'm not ambitious that I know of. + +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. + +WILLIE. I wish you'd leave me alone. (_Sits_ R.) + +MAGGIE. So does the fly when the spider catches him. You're my +man, Willie Mossop. (_Moves to desk_.) + +WILLIE. Aye, so you say. Ada would tell another story, though. + +(ADA FIGGINS _enters from street. She is not ridiculous, but a +weak, poor-blooded, poor-spirited girl of twenty, in clogs and +shawl, with_ WILLIE'S _dinner in a basin carried in a blue +handkerchief. She crosses to him and gives him the basin_.) + +ADA (C.). There's your dinner, Will. + +WILLIE. Thank you, Ada. (_Rises_.) + +(_She turns to go, and finds_ MAGGIE _in her way_.) + +MAGGIE. I want a word with you. You're treading on my foot, young +woman. + +ADA. Me, Miss Hobson? (_She looks stupidly at_ MAGGIE'S +_feet_.) + +MAGGIE. What's this with you and him? + +ADA (_gushing_). Oh, Miss 'Obson, it is good of you to +take notice like that. + +WILLIE. Ada, she-- + +MAGGIE. You hold your hush. This is for me and her to settle. +Take a fair look at him, Ada. + +ADA. At Will? + +MAGGIE (_nodding_). Not much for two women to fall out over, +is there? + +ADA. Maybe he's not so much to look at, but you should hear him +play. + +MAGGIE. Play? Are you a musician, Will? + +WILLIE. I play the Jew's harp. + +MAGGIE. That's what you see in him, is it? A gawky fellow that +plays the Jew's harp? + +ADA. I see the lad I love, Miss 'Obson. + +MAGGIE. It's a funny thing, but I can say the same. + +ADA. You! + +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. + +MAGGIE. So we're quits so far, Ada. + +ADA. You'll pardon me. You've spoke too late. Will and me's +tokened. (_She takes his arm_.) + +MAGGIE. That's the past. It's the future that I'm looking to. +What's your idea for that? + +ADA. You mind your own business, Miss 'Obson. Will Mossop's no +concern of thine. + +WILLIE. That's what I try to tell her myself, only she will have +it it's no use. + +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. + +ADA. I'm trusting him to make the future right. + +MAGGIE. It's as bad as I thought it was. Willie, you wed me. + +ADA (_weakly_). It's daylight robbery. (_Moves +slightly_ L.) + +WILLIE. Aren't you going to put up a better fight for me than +that, Ada? You're fair giving me to her. + +MAGGIE. Will Mossop, you take your orders from me in this shop. +I've told you you'll wed me. + +WILLIE. Seems like there's no escape. (_Sits in arm-chair_.) + +ADA (_angry_). Wait while I get you to home, my lad. I'll +set my mother on to you. + +MAGGIE. Oh, so it's her mother made this match! + +WILLIE. She had above a bit to do with it. + +MAGGIE. I've got no mother, Will. + +WILLIE. You need none, neither. + +MAGGIE. Well, can I sell you a pair of clogs, Miss Figgins? + +ADA. No. Nor anything else. + +MAGGIE. Then you've no business here, have you? (_Moves up to +doors and opens them_.) + +ADA (_going to him_). Will, are you going to see me ordered +out? + +WILLIE. It's her shop, Ada. + +ADA. You mean I'm to go like this? + +WILLIE. She means it. + +ADA. It's cruel hard. (_Moves towards doors_.) + +MAGGIE. When it comes to a parting, it's best to part sudden and +no whimpering about it. + +ADA. I'm not whimpering, and I'm not parting, neither. But he'll +whimper to-night when my mother sets about him. (_Slight +movement back to him_.) + +MAGGIE. That'll do. + +ADA (_in almost a scream_). Will Mossop, I'm telling you, +you'll come home to-night to a thick ear. + +(_She goes_.) + +WILLIE (_rising_). I'd really rather wed Ada, Maggie, if +it's all same to you. + +MAGGIE. Why? Because of her mother? + +WILLIE. She's a terrible rough side to her tongue, has Mrs. +Figgins. + +MAGGIE. Are you afraid of her? + +WILLIE (_hesitates, then says_). Yes. + +MAGGIE. You needn't be. + +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. + +MAGGIE. You won't go home to-night. + +WILLIE. Not go? + +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. + +WILLIE. And I'm not to go back there never no more? + +MAGGIE. No. + +WILLIE. It's like an 'appy dream. Eh, Maggie, you do manage +things. + +(_He opens the trap_.) + +MAGGIE. And while Tubby's there you can go round and see about +putting the banns up for us two. + +WILLIE. Banns! Oh, but I'm hardly used to the idea yet. (_A +step down_.) + +MAGGIE. You'll have three weeks to get used to it in. Now you can +kiss me, Will. + +WILLIE. That's forcing things a bit, and all. It's like saying I +agree to everything, a kiss is. + +MAGGIE. Yes. + +WILLIE. And I don't agree yet. I'm-- + +MAGGIE. Come along. + +(ALICE, _then_ VICKEY _enter_ R.) + +Do what I tell you, Will. + +WILLIE. Now? With them here? + +MAGGIE. Yes. + +WILLIE (_pause_). I couldn't. (_He dives for trap, runs +down, and closes it_.) + +ALICE. What's the matter with Willie? + +MAGGIE. He's a bit upset because I've told him he's to marry me. +Is dinner cooking nicely? (_To desk_, L.) + +ALICE. You're going to marry Willie Mossop! Willie Mossop! + +VICKEY. You've kept it quiet, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. You know about it pretty near as soon as Willie does +himself. + +VICKEY. Well, I don't know! + +ALICE. I know, and if you're afraid to speak your thoughts, I'm +not. Look here, Maggie--(_moving to_ L. C.),--what you do +touches us, and you're mistaken if you think I'll own Willie +Mossop for my brother-in-law. + +MAGGIE. Is there supposed to be some disgrace in him? + +ALICE. You ask father if there's disgrace. And look at me. I'd +hopes of Albert Prosser till this happened. + +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. +(_Goes to_ R.) + +(HOBSON _enters from the street_.) + +HOBSON. Well, what about that dinner? (_Comes_ C.) + +(_The positions are_ MAGGIE R., VICKEY _up_ R. C., HOBSON +_up_ C., ALICE L. C.) MAGGIE. It'll be ready in ten minutes. + +HOBSON. You said one o'clock. + +MAGGIE. Yes, father. One for half-past. If you'll wash your +hands, it'll be ready as soon as you are. + +HOBSON. I won't wash my hands. I don't hold with such finicking +ways, and well you know it. (_Sits in front of counter_.) + +VICKEY. Father, have you heard the news about our Maggie? +(_Down_ R. C.) + +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--(_Rises_.) + +MAGGIE. Don't lose your temper, father. You'll maybe need it soon +when Vickey speaks. (_Moves down_ R.) + +HOBSON. What's Vickey been doing? + +VICKEY. Nothing. It's about Will Mossop, father. + +HOBSON. Will? + +ALICE. Yes. What's your opinion of Will? + +HOBSON. A decent lad. I've nowt against him that I know of. + +ALICE. Would you like him in the family? + +HOBSON. Whose family? (_Coming down_ C.) + +VICKEY. Yours. + +MAGGIE. I'm going to marry Willie, father. That's what all the +fuss is about. + +HOBSON. Marry--you--Mossop? (_Moves to her_.) + +MAGGIE. You thought me past the marrying age. I'm not. That's +all. + +HOBSON. Didn't you hear me say I'd do the choosing when it came +to a question of husbands? + +MAGGIE. You said I was too old to get a husband. + +HOBSON. You are. You all are. + +VICKEY. Father! + +HOBSON. (_crossing to_ C.) And if you're not, it makes no +matter. I'll have no husbands here. + +(VICKEY R., ALICE L. _of_ HOBSON.) + +ALICE. But you said-- + +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. + +ALICE. Oh, father! + +HOBSON (_taking them down_). Go and get my dinner served and +talk less. Go on now. I'm not in right temper to be crossed. + +(_He drives_ ALICE _and_ VICKEY _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_.) + +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. + +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. (_Moves_ C.) + +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. + +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. + +MAGGIE. I'm thirty and I'm marrying Willie Mossop. And now I'll +tell you my terms. + +HOBSON. You're in a nice position to state terms, my lass. + +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. + +HOBSON. Do you think I'm made of brass? + +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. + +HOBSON. I might face it, Maggie. Shop hands are cheap. + +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. + +HOBSON. I'll show you what I propose, Maggie. (_He lifts trap +and calls_.) Will Mossop! (_He places hat on counter and +unbuckles belt_.) I cannot leather you, my lass. You're +female, and exempt, but I can leather him. Come up, Will Mossop. + +(WILL _comes up trap and closes it_.) + +You've taken up with my Maggie, I hear. (_He conceals +strap_.) + +WILLIE. Nay, I've not. She's done the taking up. + +HOBSON. Well, Willie, either way, you've fallen on misfortune. +Love's led you astray, and I feel bound to put you right. +(_Shows strap_.) + +WILLIE. Maggie, what's this? (_Moves down_ R. _a +little_.) + +MAGGIE. I'm watching you, my lad. + +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. (_Getting ready to strike_.) + +WILLIE. You'll not beat love in me. You're making a great +mistake, Mr. Hobson, and-- + +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. (_He swings the +strap_.) + +WILLIE. I'm none wanting thy Maggie, it's her that's after me, +but I'll tell you this, Mr. Hobson--(_seizing_ MAGGIE +_roughly +by the arm_),--if you touch me with that belt, I'll take her +quick, aye, and stick to her like glue. + +HOBSON. There's nobbut one answer to that kind of talk, my lad. +(_He strikes with belt_. MAGGIE _shrinks_.) + +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--(_he +kisses her quickly, with temper, not with passion, as quickly +leaves her, to face_ 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. + +MAGGIE. Willie! I knew you had it in you, lad. (_She puts her +arm round his neck. He is quite unresponsive. His hands fall +limply to his sides_.) + +(HOBSON _stands in amazed indecision_.) + +CURTAIN. + + + +ACT II + +_A month later. The shop as Act I. It is about mid-day_. +ALICE _is in_ MAGGIE'S _chair at the desk, some ledgers in +front of her, and_ VICKEY _is reading behind the counter. +The trap is open and_ TUBBY _stands near the desk by_ +ALICE. + +ALICE. I'm sure I don't know what to tell you to do, Tubby. + +TUBBY. There's nothing in at all to start on, Miss Alice. We're +worked up. + +ALICE. Well, father's out and I can't help you. + +TUBBY. He'll play old Harry if he comes in and finds us doing +nowt in the workroom. + +VICKEY. Then do something. We're not stopping you. (_Rises and +moves over to_ R.) + +TUBBY (_turning on her_). You're not telling me neither. And +I'm supposed to take my orders from the shop. + +ALICE. I don't know what to tell you. Nobody seems to want any +boots made. + +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. + +ALICE. Then you'd better. + +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--(_He +moves towards trap_.) + +ALICE. You suggested it. + +TUBBY. I made the remark. (_Starts going down_.) 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. + +ALICE. Oh, dear! What would Miss Maggie have told you to do? + +TUBBY. I couldn't tell you that, Miss, I'm sure. I don't +recollect things being as slack as this in her time. + +VICKEY. You don't help us much for an intelligent foreman. + +TUBBY. When you've told me what to do, I'll use my intelligence +and see it's done properly. + +ALICE. Then go and make clogs. + +TUBBY. Them's your orders? + +ALICE. Yes. + +TUBBY. Thank you, Miss Alice. + +(TUBBY _goes down trap and closes it_.) + +ALICE (_rises and moves up_ L.). I wonder if I've done +right? + +VICKEY. That's your look-out. + +ALICE. I don't care. It's father's place to be here to tell them +what to do. + +VICKEY. Maggie used to manage without him. + +ALICE. Oh, yes. Go on. Blame me that the place is all at sixes +and sevens. (_Coming down to desk_.) + +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. + +ALICE. I'm not snappy in myself. (_Sitting at desk_.) It's +these figures. I can't get them right. What's 17 and 25? + +VICKEY (_promptly_). Fifty-two, of course. + +ALICE. Well, it doesn't balance right. Oh, I wish I was married +and out of it. (_Closes book_.) + +VICKEY. Same here. + +ALICE. You! (_Rises_.) + +VICKEY. You needn't think you're the only one. + +ALICE. Well, you're sly, Vickey Hobson. You've kept it to +yourself. + +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. + +(MAGGIE _enters, followed by_ FREDDY BEENSTOCK _and +then_ WILL. MAGGIE _and_ WILL _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_. FREDDY _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_ VICKEY'S _eyes_. WILL, _very shy, +remains up_ L. C. _near the counter_.) + +ALICE. Maggie, you here! + +MAGGIE. I thought we'd just drop in. Vickey, what's this that Mr. +Beenstock's telling me about you and him? + +VICKEY (_sullenly_). If he's told you I suppose you know. + +FREDDY (L. _of counter, smilingly_). She got it out of me, +Vickey. + +VICKEY. I don't know that it's any business of yours, Maggie. + +(_The positions now are_ VICKEY R., MAGGIE R. C., FREDDY C., +WILL _up_ L. C., ALICE _down_ L. C.) + +MAGGIE. You'll never get no farther with it by yourselves from +what I hear of father's carryings-on. + +VICKEY. That's your fault. Yours and his. (_Moving behind +counter and indicating_ WILLIE, _who is trying to efface +himself at the back_.) + +MAGGIE (_sharply_). Leave that alone. I'm here to help you +if you'll have my help. + +(VICKEY _would say "No" but--_) + +FREDDY. It's very good of you, Miss Maggie, I must say. Your +father has turned very awkward. + +MAGGIE. I reckon he'll change. Has your young man been in yet +this morning, Alice? (_Moves to desk_.) + +(FREDDY _moves to_ VICKEY _and leaning across the counter +carries on a mild flirtation with her_.) + +ALICE (_indignantly_). My young-- + +MAGGIE. Albert Prosser. + +ALICE. No. + +MAGGIE. Do you expect him? + +ALICE. He's not been here so often since you and Willie Mossop +got-- + +MAGGIE (_sharply_). Since when? + +ALICE. Since you made him buy that pair of boots he didn't want. + +MAGGIE (_moving_ 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? + +ALICE. Yes. Albert's "and Prosser." + +MAGGIE (_moving up stage_ 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. + +VICKEY (_dropping down_ R., _indignantly_). You're ordering +folk about a bit. + +MAGGIE. I'm used to it. + +FREDDY. It's all right, Vickey. + +ALICE. Is it? Suppose father comes in and finds Albert and Freddy +here? + +MAGGIE. He won't. + +ALICE. He's beyond his time already. + +MAGGIE. I know. You must have worried father very badly since I +went, Alice. (_Goes to_ ALICE, L.) + +ALICE. Why? + +MAGGIE. Tell them, Mr. Beenstock. + +FREDDY. Well, the fact is, Mr. Hobson won't come because he's at +our place just now. + +VICKEY. At your corn warehouse? What's father doing there? + +FREDDY. He's--he's sleeping, Vickey. + +ALICE. Sleeping? + +(WILLIE _sits on a chair in front of the counter_.) + +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. + +VICKEY. Fell? Is father hurt? (_Up to_ FREDDY.) + +FREDDY. He's snoring very loudly, but he isn't hurt. He fell soft +on some bags. + +MAGGIE. Now you can go for Albert Prosser. + +(FREDDY _moves to doors_. L.) + +ALICE. Is that all we're to be told? + +MAGGIE. It's all there is to tell till Freddy's seen his +solicitor. + +FREDDY (_to_ VICKEY). I'll not be long. + +MAGGIE. Don't. I've a job here for you when you get back. + +(FREDDY _goes out_ L.) + +ALICE. I don't know what you're aiming at, Maggie, but-- + +MAGGIE. The difference between us is that I do. I always did. +(_Goes_ L.) + +VICKEY (_indicating_ WILLIE). It's a queer thing you aimed +at. (_Moves up to behind counter_.) + +MAGGIE (_moving up to_ 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. + +ALICE. He changed his mind. + +MAGGIE. I don't allow for folks to change their minds. He made +his choice. He said get married, and you're going to. + +VICKEY. You haven't made it easier for us, you know. + +MAGGIE. Meaning Willie? + +WILLIE. It wasn't my fault, Miss Vickey, really it wasn't. + +MAGGIE. You call her Vickey, Will. + +VICKEY. No, he doesn't. (_Drops down stage_ R.) + +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. + +ALICE. Willie Mossop was our boot hand. + +MAGGIE. He was, and you'll let bygones be bygones. He's as good +as you are now, and better. + +WILLIE. Nay, come, Maggie-- + +MAGGIE. Better, I say. They're shop assistants. You're your own +master, aren't you? + +WILLIE. I've got my name wrote up on the windows, but I dunno so +much about being master. + +MAGGIE (_producing card and moving down_ L. _to_ 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. Yon can both of you kiss him for your brother- +in-law to be. + +WILLIE (_rising_). Nay, Maggie, I'm no great hand at kissing. + +(VICKEY _and_ ALICE _are much annoyed_.) + +MAGGIE (_dryly_). I've noticed that. A bit of practice will +do you no harm. Come along, Vickey. + +ALICE (_interposing_). But, Maggie ... a shop of your own-- + +MAGGIE (_grimly_). I'm waiting, Vickey. + +WILLIE. I don't see that you ought to drive her to it, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. You hold your hush. (_Crosses_ R. _to_ VICKEY.) + +ALICE. But however did you manage it? Where did the capital come +from? + +MAGGIE. It came. Will, stand still. She's making up her mind to +it. + +WILLIE. I'd just as lief not put her to the trouble. + +MAGGIE. You'll take your proper place in this family, my lad, +trouble or no trouble. + +VICKEY. I don't see why you should always get your way. + +MAGGIE. It's just a habit. Come along now, Vickey, I've a lot to +do to-day and you're holding everything back. + +VICKEY. It's under protest. + +MAGGIE. Protest, but kiss. + +(VICKEY _goes to and kisses_ WILL, _who finds he rather +likes it. She moves back_ R., _then goes up to case up_ +R. _and starts dusting furiously_.) + +Your turn now, Alice. + +ALICE. I'll do it if you'll help me with these books, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. Books? Father's put you in my place? (_Goes_ L. C.) + +ALICE. Yes. + +MAGGIE. Then he must take the consequences. Your books aren't my +affair. + +ALICE. I think you might help me, Maggie. + +(VICKEY _glances back at_ WILL.) + +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. + +ALICE. Very well. (_She moves_ C. _and kisses_ WILL, +_then goes back_ L.) + +WILLIE. There's more in kissing nice young women than I thought. + +MAGGIE. Don't get too fond of it, my lad. (_She goes to him_.) + +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. + +MAGGIE. Eh? Are you trying to sell me something? + +ALICE. I'm asking you, what's your business here? + +MAGGIE. I've told you once. Will and me's taking a day off to put +you in the way of getting wed. + +VICKEY (_moving to back of counter_). It looks like things +are slow at your new shop if you can walk round in your best +clothes on a working day. + +WILLIE. It's not a working day with us. It's a wedding-day. + +ALICE. You've been married this morning! + +MAGGIE. Not us. (_Goes to_ R.) I'll have my sisters there when +I get wed. It's at one o'clock at St. Philip's. (_Sits_ R.) + +VICKEY. But we can't leave the shop to come. + +MAGGIE. Why not? Is trade so brisk? + +VICKEY. No, but-- + +(WILLIE _sits in front of counter_.) + +MAGGIE. Not so much high-class trade doing with you, eh? + +ALICE. I don't see how you knew. + +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. + +VICKEY. It's asking us to approve. + +MAGGIE. You have approved. You've kissed the bridegroom and +you'll go along with us. Father's safe where he is. (_Rises and +crosses_ L.) + +ALICE. And the shop? + +MAGGIE. Tubby can see to the shop. And that reminds me. You +_can_ sell me something. There are some rings in that drawer +there, Vickey. + +VICKEY. Brass rings? + +MAGGIE. Yes. I want one. That's the size. (_She holds up her +wedding-ring finger and moves to the counter_.) + +VICKEY. That! But you're not taking it for-- + +(VICKEY _puts box of rings on counter_.) + +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. (_Putting down money and trying on rings_.) + +ALICE. Wedded with a brass ring! + +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. (_She comes down_ +L. C. and puts ring in her bag_.) + +ALICE. I'm a bit too much astonished at you to think about +accounts. A ring out of stock! + +MAGGIE. They're always out of some one's stock. + +VICKEY. Well, I'd think shame to myself to be married with a ring +like that. + +MAGGIE. When folks can't afford the best they have to do without. + +VICKEY. I'll take good care I never go without. + +MAGGIE. Semi-detached for you, I suppose, and a houseful of new +furniture. + +ALICE. Haven't you furnished? + +MAGGIE. Partly what. We've made a start at the Flat Iron Market. +(_Sits_ L. _of_ WILLIE.) + +ALICE. I'd stay single sooner than have other people's cast-off +sticks in my house. Where's your pride gone to, Maggie? + +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? + +VICKEY. I'd start properly or not at all. (_Goes to desk_, +L.) + +MAGGIE. Then you'll neither of you have any objections to my +clearing out the lumber-room upstairs. (_Rises_.) We brought +a hand-cart round with us. (_Nudges_ WILL.) + +(WILL _rises and takes his coat off. He has detachable cuffs +which he places carefully on the arm-chair_.) + +VICKEY. You made sure of things. + +MAGGIE. Yes. Get upstairs, Will. I told you what to bring. + +ALICE. Wait a bit. (_Crosses to_ C.) + +MAGGIE. Go on. (_Moves_ R. _slightly_.) + +(WILL _goes into the house_.) + +ALICE. Let me tell you if you claim the furniture from your old +bedroom--(_up to_ MAGGIE),--that it's my room now, and +you'll not budge a stick of it. + +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. + +ALICE. Nor to you, neither. + +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. + +VICKEY. And that's the way you're going to live! With cast-off +furniture. (_Moves to window_, L.) + +MAGGIE. Aye. In two cellars in Oldfield Road. + +VICKEY _and_ ALICE. A cellar! + +MAGGIE. _Two_ of 'em, Alice. One to live and work in and the +other to sleep in. + +ALICE. Well, it 'ud not suit me. + +VICKEY. Nor me. + +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. + +(WILL _appears_ R. _with two crippled chairs and begins to +cross the shop_.) + +VICKEY (_stopping him_). Just a minute, Will. (_She +examines the chairs_.) These chairs are not so bad. + +MAGGIE. You can sit on one to-night and see. + +VICKEY. You know, mended up, those chairs would do very well for +my kitchen when I'm wed. + +ALICE. Yes, or for mine. + +MAGGIE. I reckon my parlour comes afront of your kitchens, +though. + +VICKEY. Parlour! I thought you said you'd only one living-room. + +MAGGIE. Then it might as well be called a parlour as by any other +name. (_Crosses to doors_, L., _and opens them_.) Put the +chairs on the hand-cart, Will. + +(WILL _goes out to street_.) + +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. + +ALICE. What? (_Moves to_ C.) + +VICKEY. Marriage portions, Maggie! + +(FREDDY _re-enters, accompanied by_ ALBERT.) + +MAGGIE (_to_ VICKEY _and_ ALICE). You'd better put your +hats on now, or you'll be late at the church. (_Gets +between_ ALICE _and_ VICKEY, C.) + +VICKEY. But aren't we to know first--? + +MAGGIE (_herding them to_ R. _exit_). You'll know all right. +Be quick with your things now. + +(ALICE _and_ VICKEY _go out_ R.) + +MAGGIE (_turns_). Good morning, Albert. (_Goes to him_, +L.) Have you got what Freddy asked you for? + +ALBERT. Yes, but I'm afraid-- + +(WILL _re-enters from street, crosses_ R. _and goes +off_.) + +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. + +FREDDY. But--(_Moving over to_ R.) + +MAGGIE. I've told you what to do, and you can't do it in your +coat. (_Moves down_ 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. + +(FREDDY _takes his coat off and puts it on a chair in front of +the counter_.) + +FREDDY. All right, Maggie. + +(FREDDY _goes out_ R., ALBERT _produces blue paper. She +reads_.) + +MAGGIE (_sitting in arm-chair_, R. C.). Do you call this +English? + +ALBERT (_standing_ L. _of her_). Legal English, Miss +Hobson. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +MAGGIE. Nobody asked you to. It won't come into court. + +(WILL _and_ FREDDY _enter C. with a ramshackle horsehair sofa_.) + +(_Rises_.) Open that door for them, Albert. + +(ALBERT _opens street door. They pass out_.) + +What's the time? You can see the clock from there. + +ALBERT (_outside street door_). It's a quarter to one. + +MAGGIE (_flying to_ R. _door, opening it, and calling_). +Girls, if you're late for my wedding I'll never forgive you. + +(_She turns as_ WILL _and_ FREDDY _return_.) + +Put your coats on. Now, then, Freddy--(_going_ C.),--you +take that paper and put it on _my_ father in _your_ +cellar. + +FREDDY. Now? + +MAGGIE. Now? Yes, of course now. He might waken any time. + +FREDDY. He looked fast enough. Aren't I to come to the church? + +MAGGIE. Yes, if you do that quick enough to get there before +we're through. + +FREDDY. All right. (_He goes out_ L., _pocketing the +paper_. MAGGIE _follows him to the door_.) + +MAGGIE. Now there's that hand-cart. Are we to take it with us? + +ALBERT. To church! You can't do that. + +WILLIE. I'll take it home. (_Slight move_.) + +MAGGIE. And have me waiting for you at the church? That's not +for me, my lad. + +ALBERT. You can't very well leave it where it is. + +MAGGIE. No. There's only one thing for it. You'll have to take it +to our place, Albert. + +ALBERT. Me! + +MAGGIE. There's the key. (_Down to_ ALBERT, L., _and hands +it from her bag_.) It's 39a, Oldfield Road. + +ALBERT. Yes, but to push a hand-cart through Salford in broad +daylight! + +MAGGIE. It won't dirty your collar. + +ALBERT. Suppose some of my friends see me? + +(_They both move up_ L.) + +MAGGIE. Look here, my lad, if you're too proud to do a job like +that, you're not the husband for my sister. + +ALBERT. It's the look of the thing. Can't you send somebody from +here? + +MAGGIE. No. You can think it over. (_She raises trap_.) +Tubby! + +TUBBY (_below_). Yes, Miss. (_He appears half-way up +trap_.) +Why, it's Miss Maggie! + +MAGGIE. Come up, Tubby. You're in charge of the shop. We'll all +be out for awhile. + +TUBBY. I'll be up in half a minute, Miss Maggie. (_He goes down +and closes trap_.) + +MAGGIE. Well, Albert Prosser? + +ALBERT (_up_ L.). I suppose I must. + +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. + +(_Going with him to the door. He goes. She turns and comes +to_ C.) + +Well, Will, you've not had much to say for yourself to-day. Howst +feeling, lad? + +WILLIE. I'm going through with it, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. Eh? + +WILLIE. My mind's made up. I've got wrought up to point. I'm +ready. + +MAGGIE. It's church we're going to, not the dentist's. + +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. + +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-- + +WILLIE. I'll tell him "yea". + +MAGGIE. And truthfully? + +WILLIE. Yes, Maggie. I'm resigned. You're growing on me, lass. +I'll toe the line with you. + +(ALICE _and_ VICKEY _enter_ R. _in their Sunday clothes--the +same at which_ HOBSON _grew indignant in Act I_. MAGGIE +_takes_ WILLIE _across to_ L.) + +ALICE. We're ready, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. And time you were. It's not your weddings that you're +dressing for. (_By trap_.) Come up, Tubby, and keep an eye +on things. + +VICKEY. (_to_ WILL). Will, have you got the ring? + +MAGGIE. I have. Do you think I'd trust him to remember? + +(MAGGIE _goes off with_ WILL. VICKEY _and_ ALICE _are +following, laughing_. TUBBY _comes up trap and throws old +shoes after them_.) + +CURTAIN. + + +[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. + + +ACT III + +_The cellar in Oldfield Road is at once workroom, shop, and +living-room. It is entered from the_ R. _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. + +A door_ L. _leads to the bedroom. Up stage_ L. _is a small +screen or partition whose purpose is to conceal the sink. A +shoemaker's bench, leather and tackle are against the wall_, +R., _above the fire-place. Below the door_, L., _is a small +dresser. Table_ R. C. _Seating accommodation consists solely +of the sofa and the two chairs taken from_ HOBSON'S, _now +repaired. The sofa is_ L. _of the table, the two chairs_ R. +_Crowded on the sofa are, in order, from down up,_ ALBERT, +ALICE, VICKEY, FRED. + +_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_ MAGGIE. _From the other chair_, C., _behind table_, +WILL _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_ WILL _rises_, ALBERT _hammers on the +table_. + +ALICE _suppresses him_. 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-- + +MAGGIE (_in an undertone_). Generous. + +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. + +MAGGIE (_rising and drinking with_ WILL). Our guests. + +(WILL _and_ MAGGIE _sit. General laughter and conversation_.) + +ALBERT (_solemnly rising_). In rising to respond-- + +ALICE (_tugging his coat and putting him into his seat_). +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. + +ALBERT. But we ought to thank him, Alice. + +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. + +FREDDY. Very neat speech indeed. (_Rising_.) + +VICKEY. Who taught you, Will? + +WILLIE. I've been learning a lot lately. + +ALICE. I thought that speech never came natural from Will. + +MAGGIE. I'm educating him. + +FREDDY. Very apt pupil, I must say. + +MAGGIE. He'll do. Another twenty years and I know which of you +three men 'ull be thought most of at the Bank. + +FREDDY. That's looking ahead a bit. + +MAGGIE. I'll admit it needs imagination to see it now. + +ALBERT (_rising and moving slightly_ 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. + +MAGGIE. I? You mustn't call it my shop. It's his. + +ALICE. Do you mean to tell me that Willie found the capital? + +MAGGIE. He's the saving sort. + +ALICE. He must be if you've done this out of what father used to +pay him. + +MAGGIE. Well, we haven't. Not altogether. We've had help. + +ALBERT. Ah! + +VICKEY. It's a mystery to me where you got it from. + +MAGGIE. Same place as those flowers, Albert. + +ALBERT. Hot-house flowers, I see. (_He rises and examines +them_.) I was wondering where they came from. + +(VICKEY _and_ FREDDY _smell flowers_.) + +MAGGIE. Same place as the money, Albert. + +ALBERT. Ah! + +ALICE (_rising and following him_, C.). Well, I think we +ought to be getting home, Maggie. + +MAGGIE (_rising, as do the rest_. VICKEY _and_ FREDDY +_move up stage_). 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-- + +ALICE. That's it. I'm a bit nervous. + +MAGGIE. He'll have an edge on his temper. Come and put your hats +on. + +(_She is going_ L., _with_ ALICE _and_ VICKEY, +_then stops_.) + +Willie, we'll need this table when they're gone. You'd better be +clearing the pots away. + +WILLIE (_by table_, R.) Yes, Maggie. + +(MAGGIE _turns to_ L.) + +FREDDY. But--you-- + +ALBERT. Oh, Lord! + +(_They laugh_.) + +MAGGIE (_quite calmly_). And you and Fred can just lend him +a hand with the washing up, Albert. + +FREDDY. Me wash pots! + +VICKEY (_really outraged_). Maggie, we're guests. + +MAGGIE. I know. Only Albert laughed at Willie, and washing up +'ull maybe make him think on that it's not allowed. + +(_She ushers_ ALICE _and_ VICKEY _out_, L., _and +follows_. WILLIE _begins to put pots on tray which he gets +from behind screen, up_ L.) + +ALBERT (_after he and_ FRED _have looked at each other, +then at_ WILL, _then at each other again_). Are you going +to wash up pots? + +FREDDY. Are you? + +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. + +FREDDY. That's right enough, but there's this plan of hers to get +us married. Are you prepared to work it for us? + +ALBERT. I'm not. Anything but-- + +FREDDY. Then till she's done it we're to keep the sweet side of +Maggie. + +ALBERT. But, washing pots! (_Moves down_ L.) + +(_There is a pause. They look at_ WILL, _who has brought +the tray from behind the screen and is now clearing up the +table_.) + +FREDDY. What would you do in our place, Will? + +WILLIE. Please yourselves. I'm getting on with what she told me. + +FREDDY. You're married to her. We aren't. + +ALBERT. What do you need the table for in such a hurry? + +WILLIE; Nay, I'm not in any hurry myself. + +FREDDY. Maggie wants it for something. + +WILLIE. It'll be for my lessons, I reckon. She's schooling me. + +FREDDY. And don't you want to learn, then? + +WILLIE (_moves_ 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. (_Crosses below table_.) + +ALBERT. Why not? + +WILLIE. I'm fond of a bit of company. + +ALBERT. Do you want company on your wedding night? + +WILLIE. I don't favour your going so soon. (_Crosses_ C. +_again_.) + +FREDDY. He's afraid to be alone with her. That's what it is. He's +shy of his wife. + +(_They laugh_.) + +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. + +FREDDY. You've been engaged to her, haven't you? + +WILLIE. Aye, but it weren't for long. And you see, Maggie's not +the sort you get familiar with. + +FREDDY. You had quite long enough to thaw the ice. It's not our +job to do your melting for you. (_Moves away_ R.) + +ALBERT. No. Fred, these pots need washing. We will wash them. + +(ALBERT _carries tray behind screen. Water runs. He is seen +flourishing towels_. FRED _is following when_ WILLIE +_calls him back and takes tray to table_.) + +WILLIE. Fred, would you like it yourself with--with a wench like +Maggie? (_Goes_ R. C.) + +FREDDY. That's not the point. It wasn't me she married. + +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. + +ALBERT (_coming down, with a dishcloth_). That's not the way +we look at it. Hurry up with those cups, Fred. (_Goes to_ +FRED _up stage_ R.) + +(MAGGIE _enters with_ VICKEY _and_ ALICE _in outdoor +clothes_.) + +MAGGIE. Have you broken anything yet, Albert? + +ALBERT (_indignantly_). Broken? No. (_Takes cup from tray +and wipes it_.) + +MAGGIE. Too slow to, I expect. + +FREDDY. I must say you don't show much gratitude. + +ALBERT. Aren't you at all surprised to find us doing this? + +MAGGIE. Surprised? I told you to do it. + +FREDDY. Yes, but--(_Takes tray up stage_, L.) + +MAGGIE (_taking towel from him_). You can stop now. I'll +finish when you're gone. (_Moves down_ R.) + +(_Knock at door upstairs_, R.) + +ALICE. Who's that? + +MAGGIE. Some one who can't read, I reckon. You hung that card on +door, Will? + +WILLIE. Aye, it's there. And you wrote it, Maggie. + +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. + +HOBSON (_off_ R. _upstairs, after another knock_). Are you +in, Maggie? + +VICKEY (_terrified_). It's father! + +(_General consternation_.) + +ALBERT. Oh, Lord! + +MAGGIE. What's the matter? Are you afraid of him? + +FREDDY. Well, I think, all things considered, and seeing-- + +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. + +ALICE. When he's gone. + +MAGGIE. It'll be before he's gone. + +(MAGGIE _crosses to_ L. _with them_.) + +VICKEY. But we don't want-- + +MAGGIE. Is this your house or mine? + +VICKEY. It's your cellar. + +MAGGIE. And I'm in charge of it. + +(_The four go into bedroom_. VICKEY _starts to argue_. ALBERT +_opens the door_. VICKEY _and_ ALICE _go out followed by_ +FREDDY _and_ ALBERT. VICKEY _is pushed inside_. WILL _is +going to stairs_.) You sit you still, and don't forget you're +gaffer here. I'll open door. (WILLIE _sits in chair above table_. +MAGGIE _goes upstairs and opens the door. Enter_ HOBSON _to +top stair_.) + +HOBSON (_with some slight apology_). Well, Maggie. + +MAGGIE (_uninvitingly_). Well, father. + +HOBSON (_without confidence_). I'll come in. + +MAGGIE (_standing in his way_). Well, I don't know. I'll +have to ask the master about that. + +HOBSON. Eh? The master? + +MAGGIE. You and him didn't part on the best of terms, you +know. (_Over the railings_.) Will, it's my father. Is he to +come in? + +WILLIE (_loudly and boldly_). Aye, let him come. + +(HOBSON _comes downstairs_. MAGGIE _closes door behind him +and follows_. HOBSON _stares round at the cellar_.) + +HOBSON. You don't sound cordial about your invitation, young man. + +WILLIE (_rises and goes_ C.). Nay, but I am. (_Shaking +hands for a long time_.) I'm right down glad to see you, Mr. +Hobson. (MAGGIE _comes down_ 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. + +HOBSON. Well-- + +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. + +(HOBSON _sits on sofa_, R. C. WILLIE _goes back to the +chair_, R.) + +WILLIE (_taking up teapot_). There's nobbut tea to drink and +I reckon what's in the pot is stewed, so I'll-- + +MAGGIE (_taking pot off him as he moves to fire-place with +it_). You'll not do owt of sort. Father likes his liquids +strong. + +WILLIE (_down_ R. _of table_). A piece of pork pie now, +Mr. Hobson? + +HOBSON (_groaning_). Pork pie! + +MAGGIE (_sharply_). You'll be sociable now you're here, I +hope. (_She pours tea at table, top end_.) + +HOBSON. It wasn't sociability that brought me, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. What was it, then? + +HOBSON. Maggie, I'm in disgrace. A sore and sad misfortune's +fallen on me. + +MAGGIE (_cutting_). Happen a piece of wedding cake 'ull do +you good. + +HOBSON (_shuddering_). It's sweet. + +MAGGIE. That's natural in cake. + +(MAGGIE _sits in chair above table_.) + +HOBSON. I've gotten such a head. + +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. + +HOBSON. It's a very serious thing I came about, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. It's not more serious than knowing that you wish us well. + +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. + +MAGGIE (_holding plate_). Then there's your cake, and you +can eat it. + +HOBSON. I've given you my word there's no ill feeling. (_Pushes +cake away_.) + +MAGGIE. So now we'll have the deed. (_Pushes it back_.) + +HOBSON. You're a hard woman. (_He eats_.) You've no +consideration for the weakness of old age. + +MAGGIE. Finished? + +HOBSON. Pass me that tea. + +(_She passes: he drinks_.) + +That's easier. + +MAGGIE. Now tell me what it is you came about? + +HOBSON. I'm in sore trouble, Maggie. + +MAGGIE (_rising and going towards door_, L.). Then I'll +leave you with my husband to talk it over. + +HOBSON. Eh? + +MAGGIE. You'll not be wanting me. Women are only in your way. + +HOBSON (_rising and going_ C.). Maggie, you re not going to +desert me in the hour of my need, are you? + +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. +(_She goes towards door_.) Give me a call when you've +finished, Will. + +HOBSON (_following her_). Maggie! It's private. + +MAGGIE. Why, yes. I'm going and you can discuss it man to man +with no fools of women about. + +HOBSON. I tell you I've come to see you, not him. It's private +from him. + +MAGGIE. Private from Will? Nay, it isn't. Will's in the family-- +(_comes back a little_),--and you've nowt to say to me that +can't be said to him. + +HOBSON. I've to tell you this with him there? + +MAGGIE. Will and me's one. + +WILLIE. Sit down, Mr. Hobson. + +MAGGIE. You call him father now. + +WILLIE (_astonished_). Do I? + +HOBSON. Does he? + +MAGGIE. He does. Sit down, Will. + +(WILL _sits right of table_. MAGGIE _stands at the head of +the table_. HOBSON _sits on sofa_.) + +Now, if you're ready, father, we are. What's the matter? + +HOBSON. That--(_producing the blue paper_)--that's the +matter. + +(MAGGIE _accepts and passes it to_ WILL _and goes behind +his chair. He is reading upside down. She bends over chair and +turns it right way up_.) + +MAGGIE. What is it, Will? + +HOBSON (_banging table_). 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-- + +MAGGIE (_who has been reading over_ WILL'S _shoulder_). +It's an action for damages for trespass, I see. + +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. + +MAGGIE. Did you trespass? + +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. + +MAGGIE (_moving round table to_ C.). I'm still asking you. +Was it an accident? Or did you trespass? + +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. + +WILLIE. My word, and that's summat like a squeeze and all. + +(HOBSON _stares at him_.) + +MAGGIE. I can see it's serious. I shouldn't wonder if you didn't +lose some trade from this. + +HOBSON. Wonder! (_Rising and moving_ 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. + +WILLIE. Do you think it will get into the paper, Maggie? + +MAGGIE. Yes, for sure. You'll see your name in the _Salford +Reporter_, father. + +HOBSON. _Salford Reporter_! 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 _Salford +Reporter_ that takes note of it. This awful cross that's come +to me will be recorded in the _Manchester Guardian_ for the +whole of Lancashire to read. + +WILLIE. Eh, by gum, think of that! To have your name appearing in +the _Guardian_! Why, it's very near worth while to be ruined +for the pleasure of reading about yourself in a printed paper. + +HOBSON (_sits sofa_). It's there for others to read besides +me, my lad. + +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. (_He is perfectly simple and has no malicious +intention_.) + +HOBSON. To hear you talk it sounds like a pleasure to you. + +WILLIE (_sincerely_). 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. + +HOBSON (_turning to her_). I'm getting a lot of comfort from +your husband, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. It's about what you deserve. (_Goes to him_.) + +HOBSON. Have you got any more consolation for me, Will? + +WILLIE (_aggrieved_). I only spoke what came into my mind. + +HOBSON. Well, have you spoken it all? + +WILLIE. I can keep my mouth shut if you'd rather. + +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. + +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. + +HOBSON. I didn't come to you, you jumped-up cock-a-hooping-- +(_Rising_.) + +MAGGIE. That 'ull do, father. (_Pushes him down_.) My +husband's _trying_ to help you. + +HOBSON (_glares impatiently for a time, then meekly says_). +Yes, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. Now about this accident of yours. + +HOBSON. Yes, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. It's the publicity that you're afraid of most. + +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. + +MAGGIE. Then we must try to keep it out of court. (_Moves away +to_ L. C.) + +HOBSON (_rising and moving to_ 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. + +MAGGIE. I've heard of cases being settled out of court, in +private. + +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. + +MAGGIE. I make no doubt it's going to cost you something, but +you'd rather do it privately than publicly? + +HOBSON (_coming back to sofa and sitting again_). If only it +were not a lawyer's office. + +MAGGIE. You can settle it with the lawyer out of his office. You +can settle with him here. + +(_She goes_ L. _and opens door. Then comes down_ L.) +Albert! + +(_Enter_ ALBERT, _who leaves door open. He comes_ C.) + +This is Mr. Prosser, of Prosser, Pilkington, and Prosser. + +HOBSON (_amazed_). He is! + +MAGGIE. Yes. + +HOBSON (_incredulously, rising_). You're a lawyer! + +ALBERT. Yes, I'm a lawyer. + +HOBSON (_with disgust almost too deep for words_). At your +age! + +MAGGIE (_going up to door_). Come out, all of you. (_She +moves to top end of table_.) + +(_There is reluctance inside, then_ VICKEY, ALICE _and_ +FRED _enter and stand in a row_, L.) + +HOBSON. Alice! Vickey! + +MAGGIE. Family gathering. This is Mr. Beenstock, of Beenstock & +Co. + +FREDDY. How do you do? + +HOBSON. What! Here! + +(_The situation is plainly beyond his mused brain's +capacity_.) + +MAGGIE. When you've got a thing to settle, you need all the +parties to be present. + +HOBSON. But there are so many of them. Where have they all come +from? + +MAGGIE. My bedroom. + +HOBSON. Your--? Maggie, I wish you'd explain before my brain +gives way. + +MAGGIE. It's quite simple. I got them here because I expected +you. + +HOBSON. You expected me! + +MAGGIE. Yes. You're in trouble. + +HOBSON (_shaking his head, then as if finding an outlet, +pouncing on_ ALICE). What's it got to do with Alice and +Vickey? What are they doing here ? What's happening to the shop? +(_Moves_ C.) + +ALICE. Tubby Wadlow's looking after it. + +HOBSON. And is it Tubby's job to look after the shop? + +VICKEY. He'd got no other job. The shop's so slack since Maggie +left. + +HOBSON (_swelling with rage_). 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? + +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. + +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. (_Turns to_ MAGGIE.) One daughter defying me is +quite enough. + +ALBERT. Hadn't we better get to business, sir? + +HOBSON (_turning on him_). 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. + +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. + +HOBSON. What! So it's libel now. Isn't trespass and... and +spying on trade secrets enough for you, you blood-sucking-- +(_To_ ALBERT.) + +ALBERT. One moment, Mr. Hobson. You can call me what you like-- + +HOBSON. And I shall. You-- + +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-- + +HOBSON. How much? + +ALBERT. Er--I beg your pardon? + +HOBSON. I'm not so fond of the sound of your voice as you are. +What's the figure? + +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. + +HOBSON. What! + +MAGGIE. It isn't. + +HOBSON. One thousand pounds for tumbling down a cellar! Why, I +might have broken my leg. (_Moves away to_ R.) + +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. (_Turns towards_ FREDDY.) + +(HOBSON _sits_ R.) + +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. (_Comes_ C.) + +ALBERT. We thought-- + +MAGGIE. Then you can think again. + +FREDDY. But-- + +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. + +HOBSON. (_rising_). Maggie, you've saved me. I'll bring that +action. I'll show them up. + +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. + +HOBSON. Not so much of your can't afford, Maggie. You'll make me +out a pauper. + +MAGGIE (_turns to HOBSON_). You can afford 500 pounds and +you're going to pay 500 pounds. + +HOBSON. Oh, but... there's a difference between affording and +paying. + +MAGGIE. You can go to the courts and be reported in the papers if +you like. (_Moves to above table_, R.C.) + +HOBSON. It's the principle I care about. I'm being beaten by a +lawyer. + +VICKEY (_going to_ HOBSON). Father, dear, how can you be +beaten when they wanted a thousand pounds and you're only going +to give 500 pounds? + +HOBSON. I hadn't thought of that. + +VICKEY. It's they who are beaten. + +HOBSON. I'd take a good few beatings myself at the price, Vickey. +Still, I want this keeping out of court. + +ALBERT. Then we can take it as settled? + +HOBSON. Do you want to see the money before you believe me? Is +that your nasty lawyer's way? + +ALBERT. Not at all, Mr. Hobson. Your word is as good as your +bond. (_Moves back_ L.) + +VICKEY. It's settled! It's settled! Hurrah! Hurrah! (_Moves_ +L. _to_ FREDDY.) + +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. (_Sits +sofa_, R. C.) + +MAGGIE. It's not going out of the family, father. (_Moves +up_ R.) + +HOBSON. I don't see how you make it out. + +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. + +(ALBERT _and_ ALICE, FRED _and_ VICKEY _stand arm in +arm_, L.) HOBSON. You mean to tell me-- + +MAGGIE. You won't forget you've passed your word, will you +father? + +HOBSON (_rising_). I've been diddled. (_Moves_ C.) It's +a plant. It-- + +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. + +ALICE. It will be much easier for you without us in your way, +father. + +HOBSON. Aye, and you can keep out of my way and all. Do you hear +that, all of you? + +VICKEY. Father...! + +HOBSON (_picking up his hat_). 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. (_He goes to foot of stairs_.) + +MAGGIE. Don't be vicious, father. + +HOBSON. Will Mossop, I'm sorry for you. (_Over banisters_.) +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. + +(HOBSON _is going up the stairs_.) + +ALICE. So does my Albert know his trade. (_Goes_ R. C.) + +HOBSON (_half-way up-stairs_). I'll grant you that. He knows +his trade. He's good at robbery. (ALICE _shows great +indignation_.) And I've to have it on my conscience that my +daughter's wed a lawyer and an employer of lawyers. + +VICKEY. It didn't worry your conscience to keep us serving in the +shop at no wages. + +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. (_Going_.) + +ALICE. Father! + +HOBSON (_turning_). 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. + +(_He opens door and exits_ R.) + +MAGGIE (_coming_ C.). You'd better arrange to get married +quick. Alice and Vickey will have a sweet time with him. + +FREDDY. Can they go home at all! + +MAGGIE. Why not? + +FREDDY. After what he said? + +MAGGIE. He'll not remember half of it. He's for the "Moonraker's" +now--if there's time. What is the time? + +ALBERT. Time we were going, Maggie--(_going to her_, C.);-- +you'll be glad to see the back of us. (_He shows_ MAGGIE +_his watch_.) + +WILLIE. No. No. (_Rising_.) I wouldn't dream of asking you +to go. + +MAGGIE (_moving up to get hats_). Then I would. It's high +time we turned you out. There are your hats. + +(_She gets_ ALBERT'S _and_ FRED'S _hats from +rack_, R.) + +Good night. + +(ALBERT _and_ FREDDY _go upstairs_. MAGGIE _comes +back_, C.) + +Good night, Vickey. + +VICKEY (_with a quick kiss_). Good night, Maggie. + +(VICKEY _goes upstairs. She and_ FREDDY _go out_.) + +MAGGIE. Good night, Alice. + +ALICE. Good night, Maggie. (_The same quick kiss_.) And +thank you. + +MAGGIE. Oh, that! (_She goes with her to stairs_.) 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. + +ALICE. I dare say. (_Upstairs_.) + +(_The general exit is continuous, punctuated with laughter and +merry "Good nights!"_) + +MAGGIE. Send us word when the day is. + +ALBERT. We'll be glad to see you at the wedding. + +MAGGIE. We'll come to that. You'll be too grand for us +afterwards. + +ALBERT. Oh, no, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. Well, happen we'll be catching up with you before so +long. We're only starting here. Good night. + +ALBERT & ALICE Good night, Maggie. + +(_They go out, closing door_. MAGGIE _turns to_ WILL, +_putting her hands on his shoulders. He starts_.) + +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. + +WILLIE. I heard you say it, Maggie. + +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. + +WILLIE. Well, I dunno. They've a long start on us. + +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. + +(_She moves round to_ R. _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_, R. WILL _goes +to bedroom and returns with a slate and slate pencil. The slate +is covered with writing. He puts it on table_.) + +MAGGIE. Off with your Sunday coat now. You don't want to make a +mess of that. + +(_He takes coat off and gets rag from behind screen and brings +it back to table. He hangs his coat on a peg_, R.) + +What are you doing with that mopping rag? + +WILLIE. I was going to wash out what's on the slate. + +MAGGIE. Let me see it first. That's what you did last night at +Tubby's after I came here? + +WILLIE. Yes, Maggie. + +MAGGIE (_sitting at table up_ R. C., _reading_). "There +is always room at the top." (_Washing it out_.) 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. (_Writing_.) "Great things grow from small." Now, +then, you can sit down here and copy that! + +(_He takes her place at the table_. MAGGIE _watches a moment, +then goes to fire-place and fingers the flowers_.) + +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. + +(_She takes up basin, stops, looks at_ WILL, _who is bent over +his slate, and takes a flower out, throwing the rest behind the +fire and going to bedroom with the one_.) + +WILLIE (_looking up_). You're saving one. + +MAGGIE (_caught in an act of sentiment and apologetically_). +I thought I'd press it in my Bible for a keepsake, Will. I'm not +beyond liking to be reminded of this day. + +(_She looks at screen and yawns_.) + +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. + +WILLIE (_industrious at his slate_). No. + +MAGGIE. I'm for my bed. You finish that copy before you come. + +WILLIE. Yes, Maggie. + +(_Exit_ MAGGIE _to bedroom, with the flower. She closes +door_. WILL _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_ MAGGIE _opens +the bedroom door. She has a candle and is in a plain calico +night-dress. She comes to_ WILL, _shines the light on him, +takes him by the ear, and returns with him to bedroom_). + +CURTAIN. + +[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. + + + +ACT IV + +_The scene represents_ HOBSON'S _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. + +It is eight o'clock on a morning a year later. + +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 _is quite +contented with it, and doesn't realize that it is at present very +dirty. + +There is probably a kitchen elsewhere, but_ TUBBY WADLOW _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_ JIM +HEELER _appears_. + +JIM (_crossing_). I'll go straight up to him, Tubby. + +TUBBY (_checking him_). He's getting up, Mr. Heeler. + +JIM. Getting up! Why, you said-- + +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. (_Goes to +fire_, R.) + +JIM (_moving towards door up_ R.). Nonsense, Tubby. Of +course, I'll go up to him. + +TUBBY. You know what he is, sir. I'll get blamed if you go, and +he's short-tempered this morning. + +JIM. I don't want to get you into trouble, Tubby. (_He sits_ +R. _of table_.) + +TUBBY. Thank you, Mr. Heeler. (_Puts bacon on plate and plate +down on the hearth_.) + +JIM. I quite thought it was something serious. + +TUBBY. If you ask me, it is. (_Coming back to table_.) + +JIM. Which way? + +TUBBY (_cutting bread_). 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-- + +JIM. By all accounts there's not much else for you to do. + +TUBBY. There's better things than being a housemaid, if it's only +making clogs. (_Crosses to fire to toast_.) + +JIM. They tell me clogs are a cut line. + +TUBBY. Well, what are you to do? There's nothing else wanted. +(_Turns_.) Hobson's in a bad way, and I'm telling no secret +when I say it. It's a fact that's known. + +JIM. It's a thousand pities with an old-established trade like +this. + +TUBBY. And who's to blame? + +JIM. I don't think you ought to discuss that with me, Tubby. + +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. + +JIM. They say in Chapel Street it's Willie Mossop. + +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. + +JIM. Cost more than women. + +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? + +JIM. Well-- + +TUBBY. There you are. Stands to reason. It's human nature. + +JIM. But there are two sides to that, Tubby. Look at the other. + +TUBBY. Ladies? + +JIM. Yes. + +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. + +(_Enter_ HOBSON _up_ R., _unshaven, without collar. +He +comes down stage between them_.) + +JIM (_with cheerful sympathy_). Well, Henry! + +HOBSON (_with acute melancholy and self-pity_). Oh, Jim! Oh, +Jim! Oh, Jim! + +TUBBY. Will you sit on the arm-chair by the fire or at the table? + +HOBSON. The table? Breakfast? Bacon? Bacon, and I'm like this. + +(JIM _assists him to arm-chair_.) + +JIM. When a man's like this he wants a woman about the house, +Henry. + +HOBSON (_sitting_). I'll want then. + +TUBBY. Shall I go for Miss Maggie, sir?--Mrs. Mossop, I mean. + +JIM. I think your daughters should be here. + +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? + +TUBBY. I might find some if I looked hard. + +HOBSON. Then go and look. And take that bacon with you. I don't +like the smell. + +TUBBY (_getting bacon_). Are you sure you wouldn't like Miss +Maggie here? I'll go for her and--(_He holds the bacon very +close to_ HOBSON'S _face_.) + +HOBSON. Oh, go for her. Go for the devil. What does it matter who +you go for? I'm a dying man. + +(TUBBY _takes bacon and goes out_ L.) + +JIM. What's all this talk about dying, Henry? + +HOBSON. Oh, Jim! Oh, Jim! I've sent for the doctor. We'll know +soon how near the end is. + +JIM. Well, this is very sudden. (_Sits chair,_ R.) You've +never been ill in your life. + +HOBSON. It's been saved up, and all come now at once. + +JIM. What are your symptoms, Henry? + +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? + +JIM. Clean? Of course I would. Clean in body and mind. + +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. + +JIM. Oh, come, come. + +HOBSON. It's awful. I'll never trust myself again. I'm going to +grow a beard--if I live. + +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? + +HOBSON. "Moonraker's." + +JIM. You don't think-- + +HOBSON. I don't think. I know. I've seen it happen to others, but +I never thought that it would come to me. + +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. + +(TUBBY _enters_ L., _showing in_ DOCTOR MACFARLANE, +_a domineering Scotsman of fifty_.) + +TUBBY. Here's Doctor MacFarlane. (_Exit_ TUBBY.) + +DOCTOR. Good morning, gentlemen. Where's my patient? (_He puts +hat on table_.) + +JIM (_speaking without indicating_ HOBSON). Here. (_He does +not rise_.) + +DOCTOR. Here? Up? + +HOBSON. Looks like it. + +DOCTOR. And for a patient who's downstairs I'm made to rise from +my bed at this hour? + +JIM. It's not so early as all that. + +DOCTOR. But I've been up all night, sir. Young woman with her +first. Are you Mr. Hobson? + +JIM (_quickly_). Certainly not. I'm not ill. + +DOCTOR. Hum. Not much to choose between you. You've both got your +fate written on your faces. + +JIM. Do you mean that I--? (_Rises_.) + +DOCTOR. I mean he has and you will. + +HOBSON. Doctor, will you attend to me? + +(JIM _moves round_ HOBSON'S _arm-chair to up stage and +then to_ L. _of table_.) + +DOCTOR. Yes. Now, sir. (_He sits by him and holds his wrist_.) + +HOBSON. I've never been in a bad way before this morning. Never +wanted a doctor in my life. + +DOCTOR. You've needed. But you've not sent. + +HOBSON. But this morning-- + +DOCTOR. I ken--well. + +HOBSON. What! You know! + +DOCTOR. Any fool would ken. + +HOBSON. Eh? + +DOCTOR. Any fool but one fool and that's yourself. + +HOBSON. You're damned polite. + +DOCTOR. If ye want flattery, I dare say ye can get it from your +friend. I'm giving you ma medical opinion. + +HOBSON. I want your opinion on my complaint, not on my character. + +DOCTOR. Your complaint and your character are the same. + +HOBSON. Then you'll kindly separate them and you'll tell me-- + +DOCTOR (_rising and taking up hat_). 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. (_Turns_ L.) + +JIM (_meeting him below table_). But you have not diagnosed. + +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. + +JIM. After that, there's only one thing for it. He shifts or I +do. + +HOBSON. You'd better go, Jim. + +JIM. There are other doctors, Henry. + +HOBSON. I'll keep this one. I've got to teach him a lesson. +Scotchmen can't come over Salford lads this road. + +JIM. If that's it, I'll leave you. + +HOBSON. That's it. I can bully as well as a foreigner. + +(JIM _goes out_ L.) + +DOCTOR. That's better, Mr. Hobson. (_He puts hat down and comes +back_ R.) + +HOBSON. If I'm better, you've not had much to do with it. + +DOCTOR. I think my calculated rudeness-- + +HOBSON. If you calculate your fees at the same rate as your +rudeness, they'll be high. + +DOCTOR. I calculate by time, Mr. Hobson, so we'd better get to +business. Will you unbutton your shirt? + +HOBSON (_doing it_). No hanky-panky now. + +DOCTOR (_ignoring his remark and examining_). Aye. It just +confirms ma first opinion. Ye've had a breakdown this A.M.? + +HOBSON. You might say so. + +DOCTOR. Melancholic? Depressed? + +HOBSON (_buttoning shirt_). 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. + +DOCTOR. And do you seriously require me to tell you the cause, +Mr. Hobson? + +HOBSON. I'm paying thee brass to tell me. + +DOCTOR. Chronic alcoholism, if you know that what means. + +HOBSON. Aye. + +DOCTOR. A serious case. + +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. + +DOCTOR. Very well. I will write you a prescription. (_Produces +notebook. Sits at table and writes with copying pencil_.) + +HOBSON. Stop that! + +DOCTOR. I beg your pardon? + +HOBSON. I won't take it. None of your druggist's muck for me. I'm +particular about what I put into my stomach. + +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. + +HOBSON. By taking your prescription? + +DOCTOR. Precisely. You will take this mixture, Mr. Hobson, and +you will practise total abstinence for the future. + +HOBSON. You ask me to give up my reasonable refreshment! + +DOCTOR. I forbid alcohol absolutely. (_Starts writing_.) + +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. + +DOCTOR (_rising and taking hat again_). If that's the way +you talk, my services are of no use to you. (_Moves down_ +L.) + +HOBSON. They're not. I'll pay you on the nail for this. +(_Rising and sorting money from pocket_.) + +DOCTOR. I congratulate you on the impulse, Mr. Hobson. + +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. (_Holds out money_.) + +DOCTOR (_putting hat down, moving to_ HOBSON _and talking +earnestly_). 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. + +HOBSON. You're getting warm about it. Will you take your fee? +(_Holding out money_.) + +DOCTOR. Yes. When I've earned it. Put it in your pocket, Mr. +Hobson. I hae na finished with ye yet. + +HOBSON. I thought you had. (_Sits again_.) + +DOCTOR (_up to_ 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? + +(HOBSON _points upwards_.) + +In bed? + +HOBSON. Higher than that. + +DOCTOR. It's a pity. A man like you should keep a wife handy. + +HOBSON. I'm not so partial to women. + +DOCTOR. Women are a necessity, sir. Have ye no female relative +that can manage ye? + +HOBSON. Manage? + +DOCTOR. Keep her thumb firm on ye? + +HOBSON. I've got three daughters, Doctor MacFarlane, and they +tried to keep their thumbs on me. + +DOCTOR. Well? Where are they? + +HOBSON. Married--and queerly married. + +DOCTOR. You drove them to it. + +HOBSON. They all grew uppish. Maggie worst of all. + +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. (_Movement +from_ HOBSON.) I don't know Maggie, but I prescribe her, and-- +damn ye, sir, are ye going to defy me again? + +HOBSON. I tell you I won't have it. + +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. + +HOBSON. I've escaped from the thraldom of women once, and-- + +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. + +HOBSON. You'll waste your time. + +DOCTOR. I'll cure you, Mr. Hobson. (_Crosses to_ C. _and turns_.) + +HOBSON. She won't come back. + +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. + +HOBSON. I want no pity. + +DOCTOR. If she's the woman that I take her for ye'll get no pity. +Ye'll get discipline. + +(HOBSON _rises and tries to speak_.) + +Don't interrupt me, sir. I'm talking. + +HOBSON. I've noticed it. (_Sits_.) + +DOCTOR. You asked me for a cure, and Maggie's the name of the +cure you need. Maggie, sir, do you hear? Maggie! + +(_Enter_ MAGGIE L., _in outdoor clothes_.) + +MAGGIE. What about me? + +DOCTOR (_staggered, then_). Are you Maggie? + +MAGGIE. I'm Maggie. + +DOCTOR. Ye'll do. + +HOBSON (_getting his breath_). What are you doing under my +roof? + +MAGGIE. I've come because I was fetched. (_Coming_ C.) + +HOBSON. Who fetched you? + +MAGGIE. Tubby Wadlow. + +HOBSON (_rising_). Tubby can quit my shop this minute. + +DOCTOR (_putting him back_). Sit down, Mr. Hobson. + +MAGGIE. He said you're dangerously ill. + +DOCTOR. He is. I'm Doctor MacFarlane. (_Coming_ C.) Will you +come and live here again? + +MAGGIE. I'm married. + +DOCTOR. I know that, Mrs.-- + +MAGGIE. Mossop. + +DOCTOR. Your father's drinking himself to death, Mrs. Mossop. + +HOBSON. Look here, Doctor, what's passed between you and me isn't +for everybody's ears. + +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. + +MAGGIE (_nodding appreciatively_). Go on. I'd like to hear +it all. (_Goes to and sits in chair_ R. _of table_.) + +HOBSON. Just nasty-minded curiosity. + +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. + +HOBSON. Sacrifice! If you saw her home you'd find another word +than that. Two cellars in Oldfield Road. + +MAGGIE. I'm waiting, Doctor. + +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. + +MAGGIE. I've not same chance I had before I married. + +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-- + +MAGGIE. I might. + +DOCTOR. Nay, but will ye? + +MAGGIE. You've told me what you think. The rest's my business. +(_Rises and goes_ L.) + +HOBSON. That's right, Maggie. (_To_ 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. + +DOCTOR. On the contrary, I am going, Mr. Hobson, with the +profound conviction that I leave you in excellent hands. (R. +_of table_.) One prescription is on the table, Mrs. Mossop. +The other two are total abstinence and--you. + +MAGGIE (_nodding amiably_). Good morning. + +DOCTOR. Good morning. + +(_Exit_ DOCTOR L. MAGGIE _picks up prescription and +follows to door_, L.) MAGGIE. Tubby! + +(_She stands by door_, TUBBY _just enters inside it_.) + +Go round to Oldfield Road and ask my husband to come here and get +this made up at Hallow's on your way back. + +TUBBY. Yes, Miss--Mrs. Mossop. + +MAGGIE. Tell Mr. Mossop that I want him quick. + +(TUBBY _nods and goes_. MAGGIE _goes_ R.) + +HOBSON. Maggie, you know I can't be an abstainer. A man of my +habits. At my time of life. + +MAGGIE. You can if I come here to make you. + +HOBSON. Are you coming? + +MAGGIE. I don't know yet. I haven't asked my husband. + +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. + +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. (_Sits_ R. _of table_.) + +HOBSON. You know as well as I do asking Will's a matter of form. + +MAGGIE. Matter of form! (_Rises and moves_ R.) My husband a +matter of form! He's the-- + +HOBSON. I dare say, but he is not the man that wears the breeches +at your house. + +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. (_Moves +back_ R. C.) + +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. + +MAGGIE. All of us? + +HOBSON. No. Not all of you. You're eldest. + +MAGGIE. There's another man with claims on me. + +HOBSON. I'll give him claims. Aren't I your father? + +(ALICE _enters_ L. _She is rather elaborately dressed for +so early in the day, and languidly haughty_.) + +MAGGIE. And I'm not your only daughter. + +ALICE. You been here long, Maggie? + +MAGGIE. A while. + +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. + +MAGGIE. A couple of hours earlier. (_Moves up_ R.) + +ALICE (_going to_ HOBSON). You're looking all right, father. +You've quite a colour. + +HOBSON. I'm very ill. + +MAGGIE (_sitting_ R. _of table_). He's not so well, Alice. +The doctor says one of us must come and live here to look +after him. + +ALICE. I live in the Crescent myself. + +MAGGIE. I've heard it was that way on. Somebody's home will have +to go. + +ALICE. I don't think I can be expected to come back to this after +what I've been used to lately. + +HOBSON. Alice! + +ALICE. Well, I say it ought to be Maggie, father. She's the +eldest. (_Moves to above table_.) + +HOBSON. And I say you're-- + +(_What she is we don't learn, as_ VICKEY _enters +effectively and goes effusively to_ HOBSON, R. ALICE _moves +round to_ L.) + +VICKEY. Father, you're ill! (_Embracing him_.) + +HOBSON. Vickey! My baby! At last I find a daughter who cares for +me. + +VICKEY. Of course I care. Don't the others? (_Releasing herself +from his grasp_.) + +HOBSON. You will live with me, Vickey, won't you? + +VICKEY. What? (_She stands away from him_.) + +MAGGIE. One of us is needed to look after him. + +VICKEY. Oh, but it can't be me. In my circumstances, Maggie! + +MAGGIE. What circumstances? + +ALICE. Don't you know? + +MAGGIE. No. + +(VICKEY _whispers to_ MAGGIE.) + +HOBSON. What's the matter? What are you all whispering about? + +MAGGIE. Father, don't you think you ought to put a collar on +before Will comes? (_Goes to him_, R.) + +HOBSON. Put a collar on for Will Mossop? There's something wrong +with your sense of proportion, my girl. + +VICKEY (_moving_ C.). You're always pretending to folk about +your husband, Maggie, but you needn't keep it up with us. We know +Will here. + +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. (_Going +up to window_.) + +ALICE. I expect you'd put a collar on in any case, father. + +HOBSON (_rising_). 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. + +(_Exit_ HOBSON R.) + +MAGGIE (_coming down_). Now, then, which of us is it to be? + +VICKEY. It's no use looking at me like that, Maggie. I've told +you I'm expecting. + +MAGGIE. I don't see that that rules you out. It might happen to +any of us. + +ALICE. Maggie! + +MAGGIE. What's the matter? Children do happen to married women, +and we're all married. + +ALICE. Well, I'm not going to break my home up and that's flat. + +VICKEY. My child comes first with me. + +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. + +ALICE. That's not fair speaking. I'd come if there were no one +else. You know very well it's your duty, Maggie. + +VICKEY. Duty? I should think it 'ud be a pleasure to live here +after a year of two cellars. + +MAGGIE. I've had thirty years of the pleasure of living with +father, thanks. (_Going to chair_ R. _of table and +sitting_.) + +ALICE. Do you mean to say you won't come? + +MAGGIE. It isn't for me to say at all. It's for my husband. + +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. (_Crosses to fire-place_.) + +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. + +(_Rises and exits_ MAGGIE L.) + +VICKEY. Stop her! (_Going to door_.) + +ALICE (_detaining her_). Let her do it in her own way. I'm +not coming back here. + +VICKEY (R. _of_ ALICE). Nor me. + +ALICE. There's only Maggie for it. + +VICKEY. Yes. But we've got to be careful, Alice. She mustn't have +things too much her way. + +ALICE. It's our way as well, isn't it? + +VICKEY. Not coming is our way. But when she's with him alone and +we're not--(_Stopping_.) + +ALICE. Yes. + +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? + +ALICE. He might leave them his money! + +VICKEY. That would be most unfair to us. + +ALICE. Father must make his will at once. Albert shall draw it +up. (_Goes_ R.) + +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. (_She opens door left_.) +Why, Will, what are you doing up the ladder? + +WILLIE (_off_ L). I'm looking over the stock. + +VICKEY (_indignantly_). It's father's stock, not yours. + +WILLIE. That's so. But if I'm to come into a thing I like to know +what I'm coming into. + +ALICE. That's never Willie Mossop. + +VICKEY (_still by door_). Are you coming into this? + +(WILL _enters_ L. MAGGIE _follows him. He is not +aggressive, but he is prosperous and has self-confidence. +Against_ ALICE _and_ VICKEY _he is consciously on his +mettle_.) + +WILLIE. That's the proposal, isn't it? + +VICKEY (C.). I didn't know it was. + +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. + +(MAGGIE _takes_ WILL'S _hat off and puts it on settee, +then exits up_ R.) + +It's been a good business in its day, too, has Hobson's. + +ALICE. What on earth do you mean? It's a good business still. + +WILLIE. You try to sell it, and you'd learn. Stock and goodwill +'ud fetch about two hundred. (_Goes_ C.) + +VICKEY. Don't talk so foolish, Will. Two hundred for a business +like father's! + +WILLIE. Two hundred as it is. Not as it was in our time, Vickey. + +ALICE. Do you mean to tell me father isn't rich? + +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. + +VICKEY (_indignantly_). My Fred in trade! + +WILLIE. Isn't he? + +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. +(_Moves_ L.) + +WILLIE. Now I thought maybe it was. If Maggie and me are coming +here-- + +VICKEY. You're coming to look after father. + +WILLIE. Maggie can do that with one hand tied behind her back. +I'll look after the business. + +ALICE. You'll do what's arranged for you. + +WILLIE. I'll do the arranging, Alice. If we come here, we come +here on my terms. + +VICKEY. They'll be fair terms. + +WILLIE. I'll see they're fair to me and Maggie. (_Goes_ R.) + +ALICE. Will Mossop, do you know who you're talking to? + +WILLIE (_turning_). Aye. My wife's young sisters. Times have +changed a bit since you used to order me about this shop, haven't +they, Alice? + +ALICE. Yes. I'm Mrs. Albert Prosser now. + +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 _moves up stage_.) + +VICKEY. Some folks get on too fast. + +WILLIE. It's a matter of opinion. (_Coming_ 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. + +(_Enter_ HOBSON _and_ MAGGIE.) + +WILLIE. Good morning, father. I'm sorry to hear you're not so +well. + +HOBSON. I'm a changed man, Will. (_He comes down and sits on +arm-chair_, R.) + +WILLIE. There used to be room for improvement. + +HOBSON. What! (_He starts up_.) + +MAGGIE. Sit down, father. + +WILLIE (_sitting_ R. _of table_). 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. + +HOBSON. Is your shop more important than my life? + +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. + +HOBSON. This isn't what I've a right to expect from you, Will. + +WILLIE. You've no _right_ to expect I care whether you sink +or swim. + +MAGGIE. Will! + +WILLIE. What's to do? You told me to take a high hand, didn't +you? + +(MAGGIE _sits down_ R.) + +ALICE. And we're to stay here and watch Maggie and Will abusing +father when he's ill. + +(_Positions now_: MAGGIE _sitting down_ R., HOBSON +_sitting in armchair_, ALICE _standing behind and between +them_, VICKEY _standing_ L. _of table_.) + +WILLIE. No need for you to stay. + +HOBSON. That's a true word, Will Mossop. + +VICKEY. Father! You take his side against your flesh and blood. + +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. + +ALICE. We're not against you, father. We want to stay and see +that Will deals fairly by you. + +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. + +VICKEY. But father--dear father-- + +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. + +ALICE. Did Maggie skip? + +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? + +ALICE (_sullenly_). No. + +HOBSON. Or you, Vickey? + +VICKEY. It's my child, father. I-- + +HOBSON. Never mind what it is. Are you coming or not? + +VICKEY. No. + +HOBSON. Then you that aren't willing can leave me to talk with +them that are. + +ALICE. Do you mean that we're to go? + +HOBSON. I understand you've homes to go to. + +ALICE. Oh, father! + +HOBSON. Open the door for them, Will. + +(WILL _rises, crosses, and opens door_. ALICE _and_ +VICKEY _stare in silent anger. Then_ ALICE _sweeps +to her gloves on the table_.) + +ALICE. Vickey! + +(ALICE _moves on towards door_.) + +VICKEY. Well, I don't know! + +MAGGIE (_from her chair by the fire-place_). We'll be glad +to see you here at tea-time on a Sunday afternoon if you'll +condescend to come sometimes. + +VICKEY. Beggars on horseback. + +(VICKEY _and_ ALICE _pass out_.) + +WILL (_closing door_). Nay, come, there's no ill-will. (He +_returns to table and sits_ R. _of it_.) + +HOBSON. Now, my lad, I'll tell you what I'll do. + +WILLIE. Aye, we can come to grips better now there are no fine +ladies about. + +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. + +WILLIE. Come home, Maggie. (_He rises, goes_ L.) + +MAGGIE. I think I'll have to. (_She rises_.) + +HOBSON. Whatever's the hurry for? + +WILLIE. It may be news to you--(_moving a little_ R.),--but +I've a business round in Oldfield Road and I'm neglecting it with +wasting my time here. + +HOBSON. Wasting time? Maggie, what's the matter with Will? I've +made him a proposal. + +MAGGIE. He's a shop of his own to see to, father. + +HOBSON. (_incredulous_). 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. + +WILLIE. Shall I tell him, Maggie, or shall we go? + +HOBSON. Go! I don't want to keep a man who--(_Rises_.) + +MAGGIE. If he goes, I go with him, father. You'd better speak +out, Will. + +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. + +HOBSON. But--but--you're Will Mossop, you're my old shoe hand. + +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-- + +HOBSON. Oh! That doesn't sound like doing so well. + +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. (_Goes_ L.) + +HOBSON. A partner! You--here-- + +WILLIE. William Mossop, late Hobson, is the name this shop 'ull +have. + +MAGGIE. Wait a bit, Will. I don't agree to that. + +HOBSON (_over to her_). Oh, so you have piped up at last. I +began to think you'd both lost your senses together. + +MAGGIE. It had better not be "late Hobson." + +WILLIE (L. C.). Well, I meant it should. + +HOBSON. Just wait a bit. I want to know if I'm taking this in +aright. (_Moves_ 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? + +WILLIE. That's it. + +HOBSON. Well, I've heard of impudence before, but-- + +MAGGIE. It's all right, father. + +HOBSON. But did you hear what he said? + +MAGGIE. Yes. That's settled. Quite settled, father. (_Pushing +him_.) It's only the name we're arguing about. (_To_ +WILL.) I won't have "late Hobson's", Will. + +HOBSON. I'm not dead, yet, my lad, and I'll show you I'm not. + +MAGGIE. I think Hobson and Mossop is best. + +HOBSON. His name on my sign-board! + +WILLIE. The best I'll do is this: Mossop and Hobson. + +MAGGIE. No. + +WILLIE. Mossop and Hobson or it's Oldfield Road for us, Maggie. + +MAGGIE. Very well. Mossop and Hobson. + +(WILL _moves_ L.) + +HOBSON. But-- + +(MAGGIE _moves up stage_ R.) + +WILLIE (_opening door and looking through_). I'll make some +alterations in this shop, and all. I will so. (_He goes through +door and returns at once with a battered cane chair_.) + +HOBSON. Alterations in my shop! (_Goes_ C.) + +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. + +HOBSON. Cretonne! It's pampering folk. + +(MAGGIE _comes down stage_ R.) + +WILLIE. Cretonne for a cellar, and morocco for this shop. Folk +like to be pampered. Pampering pays. (_He takes the chair out +and returns immediately_.) There'll be a carpet on that floor, +too. + +HOBSON. Carpet! Morocco! Young man, do you think this shop is in +Saint Ann's Square, Manchester? + +WILLIE. Not yet. But it is going to be. + +HOBSON. What does he mean? (_Appealing to heaven_.) + +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 +_sits_ R. _of table_.) 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. + +HOBSON (_looking pathetically first at_ MAGGIE, _then +at_ WILLIE, _rising obediently_). I'll go and get my hat. + +(_Exit_ HOBSON R.) + +WILLIE. He's crushed-like, Maggie. I'm afraid I bore on him too +hard. (_Going_ R. C.) + +MAGGIE. You needn't be. + +WILLIE. I said such things to him, and they sounded as if I meant +them, too. + +MAGGIE. Didn't you? + +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-- + +MAGGIE. And you're the new. + +WILLIE. Master of Hobson's! It's an outrageous big idea. Did I +sound confident, Maggie? + +MAGGIE. You did all right. + +WILLIE (_sits_ R. _of table_). 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. + +MAGGIE. Don't spoil it, Will. (_Moves to him_.) You're the +man I've made you and I'm proud. + +WILLIE. Thy pride is not in same street, lass, with the pride I +have in you. And that reminds me. (_Rises, moves up and gets +his hat_.) I've a job to see to. + +MAGGIE. What job? + +WILLIE (_coming down_ L.). Oh--about the improvements. + +MAGGIE. You'll not do owt without consulting me. + +WILLIE. I'll do this, lass. (_Goes to and takes her hand_.) + +MAGGIE. What are you doing? You leave my wedding ring alone. +(_Wrenches hand free_.) + +WILLIE. You've worn a brass one long enough. + +MAGGIE. I'll wear that ring for ever, Will. + +WILLIE. I was for getting you a proper one, Maggie. + +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! (_She touches him affectionately_.) + +WILL. Eh, lass! (_He kisses her_.) + +(_Enter_ HOBSON R. _with his hat on_.) + +MAGGIE. Ready, father. Come along to Albert's. + +HOBSON (_meekly_). Yes, Maggie. + +(MAGGIE _and_ HOBSON _cross below_ WILL _and go +out_ L. WILL _comes down with amazement, triumph and +incredulity written on his face, and attempts to express the +inexpressible by saying_--) + +WILL. Well, by gum! (_He turns to follow the others_.) + + +CURTAIN. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hobson's Choice, by Harold Brighouse + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOBSON'S CHOICE *** + +This file should be named hbsnc10.txt or hbsnc10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, hbsnc11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, hbsnc10a.txt + +Produced by Delphine Lettau, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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