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diff --git a/old/msali10.txt b/old/msali10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..670ed1a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/msali10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4548 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Misalliance by George Bernard Shaw +#2 in our series by George Bernard Shaw + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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Punctuation and spelling are retained as in the printed text. +Shaw used a non-standard system of spelling and punctuation. For +example, contractions usually have no apostrophe: "don't" is given as +"dont", "you've" as "youve", and so on. Abbreviated honorifics have +no trailing period: "Dr." is given as "Dr", "Mrs." as "Mrs", and so +on. "Shakespeare" is given as "Shakespear". Where several characters +in the play are speaking at once, I have indicated it with vertical +bars ("|"). The pound (currency) symbol has been replaced by the word +"pounds". + + + + + +MISALLIANCE + +BY BERNARD SHAW + + + + +_Johnny Tarleton, an ordinary young business man of thirty or less, is +taking his weekly Friday to Tuesday in the house of his father, John +Tarleton, who has made a great deal of money out of Tarleton's +Underwear. The house is in Surrey, on the slope of Hindhead; and +Johnny, reclining, novel in hand, in a swinging chair with a little +awning above it, is enshrined in a spacious half hemisphere of glass +which forms a pavilion commanding the garden, and, beyond it, a barren +but lovely landscape of hill profile with fir trees, commons of +bracken and gorse, and wonderful cloud pictures._ + +_The glass pavilion springs from a bridgelike arch in the wall of the +house, through which one comes into a big hall with tiled flooring, +which suggests that the proprietor's notion of domestic luxury is +founded on the lounges of week-end hotels. The arch is not quite in +the centre of the wall. There is more wall to its right than to its +left, and this space is occupied by a hat rack and umbrella stand in +which tennis rackets, white parasols, caps, Panama hats, and other +summery articles are bestowed. Just through the arch at this corner +stands a new portable Turkish bath, recently unpacked, with its crate +beside it, and on the crate the drawn nails and the hammer used in +unpacking. Near the crate are open boxes of garden games: bowls and +croquet. Nearly in the middle of the glass wall of the pavilion is a +door giving on the garden, with a couple of steps to surmount the +hot-water pipes which skirt the glass. At intervals round the +pavilion are marble pillars with specimens of Viennese pottery on +them, very flamboyant in colour and florid in design. Between them +are folded garden chairs flung anyhow against the pipes. In the side +walls are two doors: one near the hat stand, leading to the interior +of the house, the other on the opposite side and at the other end, +leading to the vestibule._ + +_There is no solid furniture except a sideboard which stands against +the wall between the vestibule door and the pavilion, a small writing +table with a blotter, a rack for telegram forms and stationery, and a +wastepaper basket, standing out in the hall near the sideboard, and a +lady's worktable, with two chairs at it, towards the other side of the +lounge. The writing table has also two chairs at it. On the +sideboard there is a tantalus, liqueur bottles, a syphon, a glass jug +of lemonade, tumblers, and every convenience for casual drinking. +Also a plate of sponge cakes, and a highly ornate punchbowl in the +same style as the keramic display in the pavilion. Wicker chairs and +little bamboo tables with ash trays and boxes of matches on them are +scattered in all directions. In the pavilion, which is flooded with +sunshine, is the elaborate patent swing seat and awning in which +Johnny reclines with his novel. There are two wicker chairs right and +left of him._ + +_Bentley Summerhays, one of those smallish, thinskinned youths, who +from 17 to 70 retain unaltered the mental airs of the later and the +physical appearance of the earlier age, appears in the garden and +comes through the glass door into the pavilion. He is unmistakably a +grade above Johnny socially; and though he looks sensitive enough, his +assurance and his high voice are a little exasperating._ + +JOHNNY. Hallo! Wheres your luggage? + +BENTLEY. I left it at the station. Ive walked up from Haslemere. +_[He goes to the hat stand and hangs up his hat]._ + +JOHNNY _[shortly]_ Oh! And who's to fetch it? + +BENTLEY. Dont know. Dont care. Providence, probably. If not, your +mother will have it fetched. + +JOHNNY. Not her business, exactly, is it? + +BENTLEY. _[returning to the pavilion]_ Of course not. Thats why one +loves her for doing it. Look here: chuck away your silly week-end +novel, and talk to a chap. After a week in that filthy office my +brain is simply blue-mouldy. Lets argue about something intellectual. +_[He throws himself into the wicker chair on Johnny's right]._ + +JOHNNY. _[straightening up in the swing with a yell of protest]_ No. +Now seriously, Bunny, Ive come down here to have a pleasant week-end; +and I'm not going to stand your confounded arguments. If you want to +argue, get out of this and go over to the Congregationalist +minister's. He's a nailer at arguing. He likes it. + +BENTLEY. You cant argue with a person when his livelihood depends on +his not letting you convert him. And would you mind not calling me +Bunny. My name is Bentley Summerhays, which you please. + +JOHNNY. Whats the matter with Bunny? + +BENTLEY. It puts me in a false position. Have you ever considered +the fact that I was an afterthought? + +JOHNNY. An afterthought? What do you mean by that? + +BENTLEY. I-- + +JOHNNY. No, stop: I dont want to know. It's only a dodge to start +an argument. + +BENTLEY. Dont be afraid: it wont overtax your brain. My father was +44 when I was born. My mother was 41. There was twelve years between +me and the next eldest. I was unexpected. I was probably +unintentional. My brothers and sisters are not the least like me. +Theyre the regular thing that you always get in the first batch from +young parents: quite pleasant, ordinary, do-the-regular-thing sort: +all body and no brains, like you. + +JOHNNY. Thank you. + +BENTLEY. Dont mention it, old chap. Now I'm different. By the time +I was born, the old couple knew something. So I came out all brains +and no more body than is absolutely necessary. I am really a good +deal older than you, though you were born ten years sooner. Everybody +feels that when they hear us talk; consequently, though it's quite +natural to hear me calling you Johnny, it sounds ridiculous and +unbecoming for you to call me Bunny. _[He rises]._ + +JOHNNY. Does it, by George? You stop me doing it if you can: thats +all. + +BENTLEY. If you go on doing it after Ive asked you not, youll feel an +awful swine. _[He strolls away carelessly to the sideboard with his +eye on the sponge cakes]._ At least I should; but I suppose youre not +so particular. + +JOHNNY _[rising vengefully and following Bentley, who is forced to +turn and listen]_ I'll tell you what it is, my boy: you want a good +talking to; and I'm going to give it to you. If you think that +because your father's a K.C.B., and you want to marry my sister, you +can make yourself as nasty as you please and say what you like, youre +mistaken. Let me tell you that except Hypatia, not one person in this +house is in favor of her marrying you; and I dont believe shes happy +about it herself. The match isnt settled yet: dont forget that. +Youre on trial in the office because the Governor isnt giving his +daughter money for an idle man to live on her. Youre on trial here +because my mother thinks a girl should know what a man is like in the +house before she marries him. Thats been going on for two months now; +and whats the result? Youve got yourself thoroughly disliked in the +office; and youre getting yourself thoroughly disliked here, all +through your bad manners and your conceit, and the damned impudence +you think clever. + +BENTLEY. _[deeply wounded and trying hard to control himself]_ Thats +enough, thank you. You dont suppose, I hope, that I should have come +down if I had known that that was how you felt about me. _[He makes +for the vestibule door]._ + +JOHNNY. _[collaring him]._ No: you dont run away. I'm going to +have this out with you. Sit down: d'y' hear? _[Bentley attempts to +go with dignity. Johnny slings him into a chair at the writing table, +where he sits, bitterly humiliated, but afraid to speak lest he should +burst into tears]._ Thats the advantage of having more body than +brains, you see: it enables me to teach you manners; and I'm going to +do it too. Youre a spoilt young pup; and you need a jolly good +licking. And if youre not careful youll get it: I'll see to that +next time you call me a swine. + +BENTLEY. I didnt call you a swine. But _[bursting into a fury of +tears]_ you are a swine: youre a beast: youre a brute: youre a +cad: youre a liar: youre a bully: I should like to wring your +damned neck for you. + +JOHNNY. _[with a derisive laugh]_ Try it, my son. _[Bentley gives +an inarticulate sob of rage]._ Fighting isnt in your line. Youre too +small and youre too childish. I always suspected that your cleverness +wouldnt come to very much when it was brought up against something +solid: some decent chap's fist, for instance. + +BENTLEY. I hope your beastly fist may come up against a mad bull or a +prizefighter's nose, or something solider than me. I dont care about +your fist; but if everybody here dislikes me-- _[he is checked by a +sob]._ Well, I dont care. _[Trying to recover himself]_ I'm sorry I +intruded: I didnt know. _[Breaking down again]_ Oh you beast! you +pig! Swine, swine, swine, swine, swine! Now! + +JOHNNY. All right, my lad, all right. Sling your mud as hard as you +please: it wont stick to me. What I want to know is this. How is it +that your father, who I suppose is the strongest man England has +produced in our time-- + +BENTLEY. You got that out of your halfpenny paper. A lot you know +about him! + +JOHNNY. I dont set up to be able to do anything but admire him and +appreciate him and be proud of him as an Englishman. If it wasnt for +my respect for him, I wouldnt have stood your cheek for two days, let +alone two months. But what I cant understand is why he didnt lick it +out of you when you were a kid. For twenty-five years he kept a place +twice as big as England in order: a place full of seditious +coffee-colored heathens and pestilential white agitators in the middle +of a lot of savage tribes. And yet he couldnt keep you in order. I +dont set up to be half the man your father undoubtedly is; but, by +George, it's lucky for you you were not my son. I dont hold with my +own father's views about corporal punishment being wrong. It's +necessary for some people; and I'd have tried it on you until you +first learnt to howl and then to behave yourself. + +BENTLEY. _[contemptuously]_ Yes: behavior wouldnt come naturally to +your son, would it? + +JOHNNY. _[stung into sudden violence]_ Now you keep a civil tongue +in your head. I'll stand none of your snobbery. I'm just as proud of +Tarleton's Underwear as you are of your father's title and his K.C.B., +and all the rest of it. My father began in a little hole of a shop in +Leeds no bigger than our pantry down the passage there. He-- + +BENTLEY. Oh yes: I know. Ive read it. "The Romance of Business, or +The Story of Tarleton's Underwear. Please Take One!" I took one the +day after I first met Hypatia. I went and bought half a dozen +unshrinkable vests for her sake. + +JOHNNY. Well: did they shrink? + +BENTLEY. Oh, dont be a fool. + +JOHNNY. Never mind whether I'm a fool or not. Did they shrink? +Thats the point. Were they worth the money? + +BENTLEY. I couldnt wear them: do you think my skin's as thick as +your customers' hides? I'd as soon have dressed myself in a nutmeg +grater. + +JOHNNY. Pity your father didnt give your thin skin a jolly good +lacing with a cane--! + +BENTLEY. Pity you havnt got more than one idea! If you want to know, +they did try that on me once, when I was a small kid. A silly +governess did it. I yelled fit to bring down the house and went into +convulsions and brain fever and that sort of thing for three weeks. +So the old girl got the sack; and serve her right! After that, I was +let do what I like. My father didnt want me to grow up a +broken-spirited spaniel, which is your idea of a man, I suppose. + +JOHNNY. Jolly good thing for you that my father made you come into +the office and shew what you were made of. And it didnt come to much: +let me tell you that. When the Governor asked me where I thought we +ought to put you, I said, "Make him the Office Boy." The Governor +said you were too green. And so you were. + +BENTLEY. I daresay. So would you be pretty green if you were shoved +into my father's set. I picked up your silly business in a fortnight. +Youve been at it ten years; and you havnt picked it up yet. + +JOHNNY. Dont talk rot, child. You know you simply make me pity you. + +BENTLEY. "Romance of Business" indeed! The real romance of +Tarleton's business is the story that you understand anything about +it. You never could explain any mortal thing about it to me when I +asked you. "See what was done the last time": that was the beginning +and the end of your wisdom. Youre nothing but a turnspit. + +JOHNNY. A what! + +BENTLEY. A turnspit. If your father hadnt made a roasting jack for +you to turn, youd be earning twenty-four shillings a week behind a +counter. + +JOHNNY. If you dont take that back and apologize for your bad +manners, I'll give you as good a hiding as ever-- + +BENTLEY. Help! Johnny's beating me! Oh! Murder! _[He throws +himself on the ground, uttering piercing yells]._ + +JOHNNY. Dont be a fool. Stop that noise, will you. I'm not going to +touch you. Sh--sh-- + +_Hypatia rushes in through the inner door, followed by Mrs Tarleton, +and throws herself on her knees by Bentley. Mrs Tarleton, whose knees +are stiffer, bends over him and tries to lift him. Mrs Tarleton is a +shrewd and motherly old lady who has been pretty in her time, and is +still very pleasant and likeable and unaffected. Hypatia is a typical +English girl of a sort never called typical: that is, she has an +opaque white skin, black hair, large dark eyes with black brows and +lashes, curved lips, swift glances and movements that flash out of a +waiting stillness, boundless energy and audacity held in leash._ + +HYPATIA. _[pouncing on Bentley with no very gentle hand]_ Bentley: +whats the matter? Dont cry like that: whats the use? Whats +happened? + +MRS TARLETON. Are you ill, child? _[They get him up. There, there, +pet! It's all right: dont cry _[they put him into a chair]_: there! +there! there! Johnny will go for the doctor; and he'll give you +something nice to make it well. + +HYPATIA. What has happened, Johnny? + +MRS TARLETON. Was it a wasp? + +BENTLEY. _[impatiently]_ Wasp be dashed! + +MRS TARLETON. Oh Bunny! that was a naughty word. + +BENTLEY. Yes, I know: I beg your pardon. _[He rises, and extricates +himself from them]_ Thats all right. Johnny frightened me. You know +how easy it is to hurt me; and I'm too small to defend myself against +Johnny. + +MRS TARLETON. Johnny: how often have I told you that you must not +bully the little ones. I thought youd outgrown all that. + +HYPATIA. _[angrily]_ I do declare, mamma, that Johnny's brutality +makes it impossible to live in the house with him. + +JOHNNY. _[deeply hurt]_ It's twenty-seven years, mother, since you +had that row with me for licking Robert and giving Hypatia a black eye +because she bit me. I promised you then that I'd never raise my hand +to one of them again; and Ive never broken my word. And now because +this young whelp begins to cry out before he's hurt, you treat me as +if I were a brute and a savage. + +MRS TARLETON. No dear, not a savage; but you know you must not call +our visitor naughty names. + +BENTLEY. Oh, let him alone-- + +JOHNNY. _[fiercely]_ Dont you interfere between my mother and me: +d'y' hear? + +HYPATIA. Johnny's lost his temper, mother. We'd better go. Come, +Bentley. + +MRS TARLETON. Yes: that will be best. _[To Bentley]_ Johnny doesnt +mean any harm, dear: he'll be himself presently. Come. + +_The two ladies go out through the inner door with Bentley, who turns +at the door to grin at Johnny as he goes out._ + +_Johnny, left alone, clenches his fists and grinds his teeth, but can +find no relief in that way for his rage. After choking and stamping +for a moment, he makes for the vestibule door. It opens before he +reaches it; and Lord Summerhays comes in. Johnny glares at him, +speechless. Lord Summerhays takes in the situation, and quickly takes +the punchbowl from the sideboard and offers it to Johnny._ + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Smash it. Dont hesitate: it's an ugly thing. +Smash it: hard. _[Johnny, with a stifled yell, dashes it in pieces, +and then sits down and mops his brow]._ Feel better now? _[Johnny +nods]._ I know only one person alive who could drive me to the point +of having either to break china or commit murder; and that person is +my son Bentley. Was it he? _[Johnny nods again, not yet able to +speak]._ As the car stopped I heard a yell which is only too familiar +to me. It generally means that some infuriated person is trying to +thrash Bentley. Nobody has ever succeeded, though almost everybody +has tried. _[He seats himself comfortably close to the writing table, +and sets to work to collect the fragments of the punchbowl in the +wastepaper basket whilst Johnny, with diminishing difficulty, collects +himself]._ Bentley is a problem which I confess I have never been +able to solve. He was born to be a great success at the age of fifty. +Most Englishmen of his class seem to be born to be great successes at +the age of twenty-four at most. The domestic problem for me is how to +endure Bentley until he is fifty. The problem for the nation is how +to get itself governed by men whose growth is arrested when they are +little more than college lads. Bentley doesnt really mean to be +offensive. You can always make him cry by telling him you dont like +him. Only, he cries so loud that the experiment should be made in the +open air: in the middle of Salisbury Plain if possible. He has a +hard and penetrating intellect and a remarkable power of looking facts +in the face; but unfortunately, being very young, he has no idea of +how very little of that sort of thing most of us can stand. On the +other hand, he is frightfully sensitive and even affectionate; so that +he probably gets as much as he gives in the way of hurt feelings. +Youll excuse me rambling on like this about my son. + +JOHNNY. _[who has pulled himself together]_ You did it on purpose. +I wasnt quite myself: I needed a moment to pull round: thank you. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Not at all. Is your father at home? + +JOHNNY. No: he's opening one of his free libraries. Thats another +nice little penny gone. He's mad on reading. He promised another +free library last week. It's ruinous. Itll hit you as well as me +when Bunny marries Hypatia. When all Hypatia's money is thrown away +on libraries, where will Bunny come in? Cant you stop him? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I'm afraid not. Hes a perfect whirlwind. +Indefatigable at public work. Wonderful man, I think. + +JOHNNY. Oh, public work! He does too much of it. It's really a sort +of laziness, getting away from your own serious business to amuse +yourself with other people's. Mind: I dont say there isnt another +side to it. It has its value as an advertisement. It makes useful +acquaintances and leads to valuable business connections. But it +takes his mind off the main chance; and he overdoes it. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. The danger of public business is that it never ends. +A man may kill himself at it. + +JOHNNY. Or he can spend more on it than it brings him in: thats how +I look at it. What I say is that everybody's business is nobody's +business. I hope I'm not a hard man, nor a narrow man, nor unwilling +to pay reasonable taxes, and subscribe in reason to deserving +charities, and even serve on a jury in my turn; and no man can say I +ever refused to help a friend out of a difficulty when he was worth +helping. But when you ask me to go beyond that, I tell you frankly I +dont see it. I never did see it, even when I was only a boy, and had +to pretend to take in all the ideas the Governor fed me up with. I +didnt see it; and I dont see it. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. There is certainly no business reason why you should +take more than your share of the world's work. + +JOHNNY. So I say. It's really a great encouragement to me to find +you agree with me. For of course if nobody agrees with you, how are +you to know that youre not a fool? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Quite so. + +JOHNNY. I wish youd talk to him about it. It's no use my saying +anything: I'm a child to him still: I have no influence. Besides, +you know how to handle men. See how you handled me when I was making +a fool of myself about Bunny! + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Not at all. + +JOHNNY. Oh yes I was: I know I was. Well, if my blessed father had +come in he'd have told me to control myself. As if I was losing my +temper on purpose! + +_Bentley returns, newly washed. He beams when he sees his father, and +comes affectionately behind him and pats him on the shoulders._ + +BENTLEY. Hel-lo, commander! have you come? Ive been making a filthy +silly ass of myself here. I'm awfully sorry, Johnny, old chap: I beg +your pardon. Why dont you kick me when I go on like that? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. As we came through Godalming I thought I heard some +yelling-- + +BENTLEY. I should think you did. Johnny was rather rough on me, +though. He told me nobody here liked me; and I was silly enough to +believe him. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. And all the women have been kissing you and pitying +you ever since to stop your crying, I suppose. Baby! + +BENTLEY. I did cry. But I always feel good after crying: it +relieves my wretched nerves. I feel perfectly jolly now. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Not at all ashamed of yourself, for instance? + +BENTLEY. If I started being ashamed of myself I shouldnt have time +for anything else all my life. I say: I feel very fit and spry. +Lets all go down and meet the Grand Cham. _[He goes to the hatstand +and takes down his hat]._ + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Does Mr Tarleton like to be called the Grand Cham, +do you think, Bentley? + +BENTLEY. Well, he thinks hes too modest for it. He calls himself +Plain John. But you cant call him that in his own office: besides, +it doesnt suit him: it's not flamboyant enough. + +JOHNNY. Flam what? + +BENTLEY. Flamboyant. Lets go and meet him. Hes telephoned from +Guildford to say hes on the road. The dear old son is always +telephoning or telegraphing: he thinks hes hustling along like +anything when hes only sending unnecessary messages. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Thank you: I should prefer a quiet afternoon. + +BENTLEY. Right O. I shant press Johnny: hes had enough of me for +one week-end. _[He goes out through the pavilion into the grounds]._ + +JOHNNY. Not a bad idea, that. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. What? + +JOHNNY. Going to meet the Governor. You know you wouldnt think it; +but the Governor likes Bunny rather. And Bunny is cultivating it. I +shouldnt be surprised if he thought he could squeeze me out one of +these days. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. You dont say so! Young rascal! I want to consult +you about him, if you dont mind. Shall we stroll over to the Gibbet? +Bentley is too fast for me as a walking companion; but I should like a +short turn. + +JOHNNY. _[rising eagerly, highly flattered]_ Right you are. Thatll +suit me down to the ground. _[He takes a Panama and stick from the +hat stand]._ + +_Mrs Tarleton and Hypatia come back just as the two men are going out. +Hypatia salutes Summerhays from a distance with an enigmatic lift of +her eyelids in his direction and a demure nod before she sits down at +the worktable and busies herself with her needle. Mrs Tarleton, +hospitably fussy, goes over to him._ + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, Lord Summerhays, I didnt know you were here. Wont +you have some tea? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. No, thank you: I'm not allowed tea. And I'm +ashamed to say Ive knocked over your beautiful punch-bowl. You must +let me replace it. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, it doesnt matter: I'm only too glad to be rid of +it. The shopman told me it was in the best taste; but when my poor +old nurse Martha got cataract, Bunny said it was a merciful provision +of Nature to prevent her seeing our china. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[gravely]_ That was exceedingly rude of Bentley, +Mrs Tarleton. I hope you told him so. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, bless you! I dont care what he says; so long as he +says it to me and not before visitors. + +JOHNNY. We're going out for a stroll, mother. + +MRS TARLETON. All right: dont let us keep you. Never mind about +that crock: I'll get the girl to come and take the pieces away. +_[Recollecting herself]_ There! Ive done it again! + +JOHNNY. Done what? + +MRS TARLETON. Called her the girl. You know, Lord Summerhays, its a +funny thing; but now I'm getting old, I'm dropping back into all the +ways John and I had when we had barely a hundred a year. You should +have known me when I was forty! I talked like a duchess; and if +Johnny or Hypatia let slip a word that was like old times, I was down +on them like anything. And now I'm beginning to do it myself at every +turn. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. There comes a time when all that seems to matter so +little. Even queens drop the mask when they reach our time of life. + +MRS TARLETON. Let you alone for giving a thing a pretty turn! Youre +a humbug, you know, Lord Summerhays. John doesnt know it; and Johnny +doesnt know it; but you and I know it, dont we? Now thats something +that even you cant answer; so be off with you for your walk without +another word. + +_Lord Summerhays smiles; bows; and goes out through the vestibule +door, followed by Johnny. Mrs Tarleton sits down at the worktable and +takes out her darning materials and one of her husband's socks. +Hypatia is at the other side of the table, on her mother's right. +They chat as they work. + +HYPATIA. I wonder whether they laugh at us when they are by +themselves! + +MRS TARLETON. Who? + +HYPATIA. Bentley and his father and all the toffs in their set. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, thats only their way. I used to think that the +aristocracy were a nasty sneering lot, and that they were laughing at +me and John. Theyre always giggling and pretending not to care much +about anything. But you get used to it: theyre the same to one +another and to everybody. Besides, what does it matter what they +think? It's far worse when theyre civil, because that always means +that they want you to lend them money; and you must never do that, +Hypatia, because they never pay. How can they? They dont make +anything, you see. Of course, if you can make up your mind to regard +it as a gift, thats different; but then they generally ask you again; +and you may as well say no first as last. You neednt be afraid of the +aristocracy, dear: theyre only human creatures like ourselves after +all; and youll hold your own with them easy enough. + +HYPATIA. Oh, I'm not a bit afraid of them, I assure you. + +MRS TARLETON. Well, no, not afraid of them, exactly; but youve got to +pick up their ways. You know, dear, I never quite agreed with your +father's notion of keeping clear of them, and sending you to a school +that was so expensive that they couldnt afford to send their daughters +there; so that all the girls belonged to big business families like +ourselves. It takes all sorts to make a world; and I wanted you to +see a little of all sorts. When you marry Bunny, and go among the +women of his father's set, theyll shock you at first. + +HYPATIA. _[incredulously]_ How? + +MRS TARLETON. Well, the things they talk about. + +HYPATIA. Oh! scandalmongering? + +MRS TARLETON. Oh no: we all do that: thats only human nature. But +you know theyve no notion of decency. I shall never forget the first +day I spent with a marchioness, two duchesses, and no end of Ladies +This and That. Of course it was only a committee: theyd put me on to +get a big subscription out of John. I'd never heard such talk in my +life. The things they mentioned! And it was the marchioness that +started it. + +HYPATIA. What sort of things? + +MRS TARLETON. Drainage!! She'd tried three systems in her castle; +and she was going to do away with them all and try another. I didnt +know which way to look when she began talking about it: I thought +theyd all have got up and gone out of the room. But not a bit of it, +if you please. They were all just as bad as she. They all had +systems; and each of them swore by her own system. I sat there with +my cheeks burning until one of the duchesses, thinking I looked out of +it, I suppose, asked me what system I had. I said I was sure I knew +nothing about such things, and hadnt we better change the subject. +Then the fat was in the fire, I can tell you. There was a regular +terror of a countess with an anaerobic system; and she told me, +downright brutally, that I'd better learn something about them before +my children died of diphtheria. That was just two months after I'd +buried poor little Bobby; and that was the very thing he died of, poor +little lamb! I burst out crying: I couldnt help it. It was as good +as telling me I'd killed my own child. I had to go away; but before I +was out of the door one of the duchesses--quite a young woman--began +talking about what sour milk did in her inside and how she expected to +live to be over a hundred if she took it regularly. And me listening +to her, that had never dared to think that a duchess could have +anything so common as an inside! I shouldnt have minded if it had +been children's insides: we have to talk about them. But grown-up +people! I was glad to get away that time. + +HYPATIA. There was a physiology and hygiene class started at school; +but of course none of our girls were let attend it. + +MRS TARLETON. If it had been an aristocratic school plenty would have +attended it. Thats what theyre like: theyve nasty minds. With +really nice good women a thing is either decent or indecent; and if +it's indecent, we just dont mention it or pretend to know about it; +and theres an end of it. But all the aristocracy cares about is +whether it can get any good out of the thing. Theyre what Johnny +calls cynical-like. And of course nobody can say a word to them for +it. Theyre so high up that they can do and say what they like. + +HYPATIA. Well, I think they might leave the drains to their husbands. +I shouldnt think much of a man that left such things to me. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, dont think that, dear, whatever you do. I never +let on about it to you; but it's me that takes care of the drainage +here. After what that countess said to me I wasnt going to lose +another child or trust John. And I don't want my grandchildren to die +any more than my children. + +HYPATIA. Do you think Bentley will ever be as big a man as his +father? I dont mean clever: I mean big and strong. + +MRS TARLETON. Not he. Hes overbred, like one of those expensive +little dogs. I like a bit of a mongrel myself, whether it's a man or +a dog: theyre the best for everyday. But we all have our tastes: +whats one woman's meat is another woman's poison. Bunny's a dear +little fellow; but I never could have fancied him for a husband when I +was your age. + +HYPATIA. Yes; but he has some brains. Hes not like all the rest. +One can't have everything. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, youre quite right, dear: quite right. It's a +great thing to have brains: look what it's done for your father! +Thats the reason I never said a word when you jilted poor Jerry +Mackintosh. + +HYPATIA. _[excusing herself]_ I really couldnt stick it out with +Jerry, mother. I know you liked him; and nobody can deny that hes a +splendid animal-- + +MRS TARLETON. _[shocked]_ Hypatia! How can you! The things that +girls say nowadays! + +HYPATIA. Well, what else can you call him? If I'd been deaf or he'd +been dumb, I could have married him. But living with father, Ive got +accustomed to cleverness. Jerry would drive me mad: you know very +well hes a fool: even Johnny thinks him a fool. + +MRS TARLETON. _[up in arms at once in defence of her boy]_ Now dont +begin about my Johnny. You know it annoys me. Johnny's as clever as +anybody else in his own way. I dont say hes as clever as you in some +ways; but hes a man, at all events, and not a little squit of a thing +like your Bunny. + +HYPATIA. Oh, I say nothing against your darling: we all know +Johnny's perfection. + +MRS TARLETON. Dont be cross, dearie. You let Johnny alone; and I'll +let Bunny alone. I'm just as bad as you. There! + +HYPATIA. Oh, I dont mind your saying that about Bentley. It's true. +He is a little squit of a thing. I wish he wasnt. But who else is +there? Think of all the other chances Ive had! Not one of them has +as much brains in his whole body as Bentley has in his little finger. +Besides, theyve no distinction. It's as much as I can do to tell one +from the other. They wouldnt even have money if they werent the sons +of their fathers, like Johnny. Whats a girl to do? I never met +anybody like Bentley before. He may be small; but hes the best of the +bunch: you cant deny that. + +MRS TARLETON. _[with a sigh]_ Well, my pet, if you fancy him, theres +no more to be said. + +_A pause follows this remark: the two women sewing silently._ + +HYPATIA. Mother: do you think marriage is as much a question of +fancy as it used to be in your time and father's? + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, it wasnt much fancy with me, dear: your father +just wouldnt take no for an answer; and I was only too glad to be his +wife instead of his shop-girl. Still, it's curious; but I had more +choice than you in a way, because, you see, I was poor; and there are +so many more poor men than rich ones that I might have had more of a +pick, as you might say, if John hadnt suited me. + +HYPATIA. I can imagine all sorts of men I could fall in love with; +but I never seem to meet them. The real ones are too small, like +Bunny, or too silly, like Jerry. Of course one can get into a state +about any man: fall in love with him if you like to call it that. +But who would risk marrying a man for love? _I_ shouldnt. I remember +three girls at school who agreed that the one man you should never +marry was the man you were in love with, because it would make a +perfect slave of you. Theres a sort of instinct against it, I think, +thats just as strong as the other instinct. One of them, to my +certain knowledge, refused a man she was in love with, and married +another who was in love with her; and it turned out very well. + +MRS TARLETON. Does all that mean that youre not in love with Bunny? + +HYPATIA. Oh, how could anybody be in love with Bunny? I like him to +kiss me just as I like a baby to kiss me. I'm fond of him; and he +never bores me; and I see that hes very clever; but I'm not what you +call gone about him, if thats what you mean. + +MRS TARLETON. Then why need you marry him? + +HYPATIA. What better can I do? I must marry somebody, I suppose. +Ive realized that since I was twenty-three. I always used to take it +as a matter of course that I should be married before I was twenty. + +BENTLEY'S VOICE. _[in the garden]_ Youve got to keep yourself fresh: +to look at these things with an open mind. + +JOHN TARLETON'S VOICE. Quite right, quite right: I always say so. + +MRS TARLETON. Theres your father, and Bunny with him. + +BENTLEY. Keep young. Keep your eye on me. Thats the tip for you. + +_Bentley and Mr Tarleton (an immense and genial veteran of trade) come +into view and enter the pavilion._ + +JOHN TARLETON. You think youre young, do you? You think I'm old? +_[energetically shaking off his motoring coat and hanging it up with +his cap]._ + +BENTLEY. _[helping him with the coat]_ Of course youre old. Look at +your face and look at mine. What you call your youth is nothing but +your levity. Why do we get on so well together? Because I'm a young +cub and youre an old josser. _[He throws a cushion at Hypatia's feet +and sits down on it with his back against her knees]._ + +TARLETON. Old! Thats all you know about it, my lad. How do, Patsy! +_[Hypatia kisses him]._ How is my Chickabiddy? _[He kisses Mrs +Tarleton's hand and poses expansively in the middle of the picture]._ +Look at me! Look at these wrinkles, these gray hairs, this repulsive +mask that you call old age! What is it? _[Vehemently]_ I ask you, +what is it? + +BENTLEY. Jolly nice and venerable, old man. Dont be discouraged. + +TARLETON. Nice? Not a bit of it. Venerable? Venerable be blowed! +Read your Darwin, my boy. Read your Weismann. _[He goes to the +sideboard for a drink of lemonade]._ + +MRS TARLETON. For shame, John! Tell him to read his Bible. + +TARLETON. _[manipulating the syphon]_ Whats the use of telling +children to read the Bible when you know they wont. I was kept away +from the Bible for forty years by being told to read it when I was +young. Then I picked it up one evening in a hotel in Sunderland when +I had left all my papers in the train; and I found it wasnt half bad. +_[He drinks, and puts down the glass with a smack of enjoyment]._ +Better than most halfpenny papers, anyhow, if only you could make +people believe it. _[He sits down by the writing-table, near his +wife]._ But if you want to understand old age scientifically, read +Darwin and Weismann. Of course if you want to understand it +romantically, read about Solomon. + +MRS TARLETON. Have you had tea, John? + +TARLETON. Yes. Dont interrupt me when I'm improving the boy's mind. +Where was I? This repulsive mask--Yes. _[Explosively]_ What is +death? + +MRS TARLETON. John! + +HYPATIA. Death is a rather unpleasant subject, papa. + +TARLETON. Not a bit. Not scientifically. Scientifically it's a +delightful subject. You think death's natural. Well, it isnt. You +read Weismann. There wasnt any death to start with. You go look in +any ditch outside and youll find swimming about there as fresh as +paint some of the identical little live cells that Adam christened in +the Garden of Eden. But if big things like us didnt die, we'd crowd +one another off the face of the globe. Nothing survived, sir, except +the sort of people that had the sense and good manners to die and make +room for the fresh supplies. And so death was introduced by Natural +Selection. You get it out of your head, my lad, that I'm going to die +because I'm wearing out or decaying. Theres no such thing as decay to +a vital man. I shall clear out; but I shant decay. + +BENTLEY. And what about the wrinkles and the almond tree and the +grasshopper that becomes a burden and the desire that fails? + +TARLETON. Does it? by George! No, sir: it spiritualizes. As to +your grasshopper, I can carry an elephant. + +MRS TARLETON. You do say such things, Bunny! What does he mean by +the almond tree? + +TARLETON. He means my white hairs: the repulsive mask. That, my +boy, is another invention of Natural Selection to disgust young women +with me, and give the lads a turn. + +MRS TARLETON. John: I wont have it. Thats a forbidden subject. + +TARLETON. They talk of the wickedness and vanity of women painting +their faces and wearing auburn wigs at fifty. But why shouldnt they? +Why should a woman allow Nature to put a false mask of age on her when +she knows that shes as young as ever? Why should she look in the +glass and see a wrinkled lie when a touch of fine art will shew her a +glorious truth? The wrinkles are a dodge to repel young men. Suppose +she doesnt want to repel young men! Suppose she likes them! + +MRS TARLETON. Bunny: take Hypatia out into the grounds for a walk: +theres a good boy. John has got one of his naughty fits this evening. + +HYPATIA. Oh, never mind me. I'm used to him. + +BENTLEY. I'm not. I never heard such conversation: I cant believe +my ears. And mind you, this is the man who objected to my marrying +his daughter on the ground that a marriage between a member of the +great and good middle class with one of the vicious and corrupt +aristocracy would be a misalliance. A misalliance, if you please! +This is the man Ive adopted as a father! + +TARLETON. Eh! Whats that? Adopted me as a father, have you? + +BENTLEY. Yes. Thats an idea of mine. I knew a chap named Joey +Percival at Oxford (you know I was two months at Balliol before I was +sent down for telling the old woman who was head of that silly college +what I jolly well thought of him. He would have been glad to have me +back, too, at the end of six months; but I wouldnt go: I just let him +want; and serve him right!) Well, Joey was a most awfully clever +fellow, and so nice! I asked him what made such a difference between +him and all the other pups--they were pups, if you like. He told me +it was very simple: they had only one father apiece; and he had +three. + +MRS TARLETON. Dont talk nonsense, child. How could that be? + +BENTLEY. Oh, very simple. His father-- + +TARLETON. Which father? + +BENTLEY. The first one: the regulation natural chap. He kept a tame +philosopher in the house: a sort of Coleridge or Herbert Spencer kind +of card, you know. That was the second father. Then his mother was +an Italian princess; and she had an Italian priest always about. He +was supposed to take charge of her conscience; but from what I could +make out, she jolly well took charge of his. The whole three of them +took charge of Joey's conscience. He used to hear them arguing like +mad about everything. You see, the philosopher was a freethinker, and +always believed the latest thing. The priest didnt believe anything, +because it was sure to get him into trouble with someone or another. +And the natural father kept an open mind and believed whatever paid +him best. Between the lot of them Joey got cultivated no end. He +said if he could only have had three mothers as well, he'd have backed +himself against Napoleon. + +TARLETON. _[impressed]_ Thats an idea. Thats a most interesting +idea: a most important idea. + +MRS TARLETON. You always were one for ideas, John. + +TARLETON. Youre right, Chickabiddy. What do I tell Johnny when he +brags about Tarleton's Underwear? It's not the underwear. The +underwear be hanged! Anybody can make underwear. Anybody can sell +underwear. Tarleton's Ideas: thats whats done it. Ive often thought +of putting that up over the shop. + +BENTLEY. Take me into partnership when you do, old man. I'm wasted +on the underwear; but I shall come in strong on the ideas. + +TARLETON. You be a good boy; and perhaps I will. + +MRS TARLETON. _[scenting a plot against her beloved Johnny]_ Now, +John: you promised-- + +TARLETON. Yes, yes. All right, Chickabiddy: dont fuss. Your +precious Johnny shant be interfered with. _[Bouncing up, too +energetic to sit still]_ But I'm getting sick of that old shop. +Thirty-five years Ive had of it: same blessed old stairs to go up and +down every day: same old lot: same old game: sorry I ever started +it now. I'll chuck it and try something else: something that will +give a scope to all my faculties. + +HYPATIA. Theres money in underwear: theres none in wild-cat ideas. + +TARLETON. Theres money in me, madam, no matter what I go into. + +MRS TARLETON. Dont boast, John. Dont tempt Providence. + +TARLETON. Rats! You dont understand Providence. Providence likes to +be tempted. Thats the secret of the successful man. Read Browning. +Natural theology on an island, eh? Caliban was afraid to tempt +Providence: that was why he was never able to get even with Prospero. +What did Prospero do? Prospero didnt even tempt Providence: he was +Providence. Thats one of Tarleton's ideas; and dont you forget it. + +BENTLEY. You are full of beef today, old man. + +TARLETON. Beef be blowed! Joy of life. Read Ibsen. _[He goes into +the pavilion to relieve his restlessness, and stares out with his +hands thrust deep in his pockets]._ + +HYPATIA. _[thoughtful]_ Bentley: couldnt you invite your friend Mr +Percival down here? + +BENTLEY. Not if I know it. Youd throw me over the moment you set +eyes on him. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, Bunny! For shame! + +BENTLEY. Well, who'd marry me, dyou suppose, if they could get my +brains with a full-sized body? No, thank you. I shall take jolly +good care to keep Joey out of this until Hypatia is past praying for. + +_Johnny and Lord Summerhays return through the pavilion from their +stroll._ + +TARLETON. Welcome! welcome! Why have you stayed away so long? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[shaking hands]_ Yes: I should have come sooner. +But I'm still rather lost in England. _[Johnny takes his hat and +hangs it up beside his own]._ Thank you. _[Johnny returns to his +swing and his novel. Lord Summerhays comes to the writing table]._ +The fact is that as Ive nothing to do, I never have time to go +anywhere. _[He sits down next Mrs Tarleton]._ + +TARLETON. _[following him and sitting down on his left]_ Paradox, +paradox. Good. Paradoxes are the only truths. Read Chesterton. But +theres lots for you to do here. You have a genius for government. +You learnt your job out there in Jinghiskahn. Well, we want to be +governed here in England. Govern us. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Ah yes, my friend; but in Jinghiskahn you have to +govern the right way. If you dont, you go under and come home. Here +everything has to be done the wrong way, to suit governors who +understand nothing but partridge shooting (our English native princes, +in fact) and voters who dont know what theyre voting about. I dont +understand these democratic games; and I'm afraid I'm too old to +learn. What can I do but sit in the window of my club, which consists +mostly of retired Indian Civil servants? We look on at the muddle and +the folly and amateurishness; and we ask each other where a single +fortnight of it would have landed us. + +TARLETON. Very true. Still, Democracy's all right, you know. Read +Mill. Read Jefferson. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Yes. Democracy reads well; but it doesnt act well, +like some people's plays. No, no, my friend Tarleton: to make +Democracy work, you need an aristocratic democracy. To make +Aristocracy work, you need a democratic aristocracy. Youve got +neither; and theres an end of it. + +TARLETON. Still, you know, the superman may come. The superman's an +idea. I believe in ideas. Read Whatshisname. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Reading is a dangerous amusement, Tarleton. I wish +I could persuade your free library people of that. + +TARLETON. Why, man, it's the beginning of education. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. On the contrary, it's the end of it. How can you +dare teach a man to read until youve taught him everything else first? + +JOHNNY. _[intercepting his father's reply by coming out of the swing +and taking the floor]_ Leave it at that. Thats good sense. Anybody +on for a game of tennis? + +BENTLEY. Oh, lets have some more improving conversation. Wouldnt you +rather, Johnny? + +JOHNNY. If you ask me, no. + +TARLETON. Johnny: you dont cultivate your mind. You dont read. + +JOHNNY. _[coming between his mother and Lord Summerhays, book in +hand]_ Yes I do. I bet you what you like that, page for page, I read +more than you, though I dont talk about it so much. Only, I dont read +the same books. I like a book with a plot in it. You like a book +with nothing in it but some idea that the chap that writes it keeps +worrying, like a cat chasing its own tail. I can stand a little of +it, just as I can stand watching the cat for two minutes, say, when +Ive nothing better to do. But a man soon gets fed up with that sort +of thing. The fact is, you look on an author as a sort of god. _I_ +look on him as a man that I pay to do a certain thing for me. I pay +him to amuse me and to take me out of myself and make me forget. + +TARLETON. No. Wrong principle. You want to remember. Read Kipling. +"Lest we forget." + +JOHNNY. If Kipling wants to remember, let him remember. If he had to +run Tarleton's Underwear, he'd be jolly glad to forget. As he has a +much softer job, and wants to keep himself before the public, his cry +is, "Dont you forget the sort of things I'm rather clever at writing +about." Well, I dont blame him: it's his business: I should do the +same in his place. But what he wants and what I want are two +different things. I want to forget; and I pay another man to make me +forget. If I buy a book or go to the theatre, I want to forget the +shop and forget myself from the moment I go in to the moment I come +out. Thats what I pay my money for. And if I find that the author's +simply getting at me the whole time, I consider that hes obtained my +money under false pretences. I'm not a morbid crank: I'm a natural +man; and, as such, I dont like being got at. If a man in my +employment did it, I should sack him. If a member of my club did it, +I should cut him. If he went too far with it, I should bring his +conduct before the committee. I might even punch his head, if it came +to that. Well, who and what is an author that he should be privileged +to take liberties that are not allowed to other men? + +MRS TARLETON. You see, John! What have I always told you? Johnny +has as much to say for himself as anybody when he likes. + +JOHNNY. I'm no fool, mother, whatever some people may fancy. I dont +set up to have as many ideas as the Governor; but what ideas I have +are consecutive, at all events. I can think as well as talk. + +BENTLEY. _[to Tarleton, chuckling]_ Had you there, old man, hadnt +he? You are rather all over the shop with your ideas, aint you? + +JOHNNY. _[handsomely]_ I'm not saying anything against you, +Governor. But I do say that the time has come for sane, healthy, +unpretending men like me to make a stand against this conspiracy of +the writing and talking and artistic lot to put us in the back row. +It isnt a fact that we're inferior to them: it's a put-up job; and +it's they that have put the job up. It's we that run the country for +them; and all the thanks we get is to be told we're Philistines and +vulgar tradesmen and sordid city men and so forth, and that theyre all +angels of light and leading. The time has come to assert ourselves +and put a stop to their stuck-up nonsense. Perhaps if we had nothing +better to do than talking or writing, we could do it better than they. +Anyhow, theyre the failures and refuse of business (hardly a man of +them that didnt begin in an office) and we're the successes of it. +Thank God I havnt failed yet at anything; and I dont believe I should +fail at literature if it would pay me to turn my hand to it. + +BENTLEY. Hear, hear! + +MRS TARLETON. Fancy you writing a book, Johnny! Do you think he +could, Lord Summerhays? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Why not? As a matter of fact all the really +prosperous authors I have met since my return to England have been +very like him. + +TARLETON. _[again impressed]_ Thats an idea. Thats a new idea. I +believe I ought to have made Johnny an author. Ive never said so +before for fear of hurting his feelings, because, after all, the lad +cant help it; but Ive never thought Johnny worth tuppence as a man of +business. + +JOHNNY. _[sarcastic]_ Oh! You think youve always kept that to +yourself, do you, Governor? I know your opinion of me as well as you +know it yourself. It takes one man of business to appreciate another; +and you arnt, and you never have been, a real man of business. I know +where Tarleton's would have been three of four times if it hadnt been +for me. _[With a snort and a nod to emphasize the implied warning, he +retreats to the Turkish bath, and lolls against it with an air of +good-humoured indifference]._ + +TARLETON. Well, who denies it? Youre quite right, my boy. I don't +mind confessing to you all that the circumstances that condemned me to +keep a shop are the biggest tragedy in modern life. I ought to have +been a writer. I'm essentially a man of ideas. When I was a young +man I sometimes used to pray that I might fail, so that I should be +justified in giving up business and doing something: something +first-class. But it was no good: I couldnt fail. I said to myself +that if I could only once go to my Chickabiddy here and shew her a +chartered accountant's statement proving that I'd made 20 pounds less +than last year, I could ask her to let me chance Johnny's and +Hypatia's future by going into literature. But it was no good. First +it was 250 pounds more than last year. Then it was 700 pounds. Then +it was 2000 pounds. Then I saw it was no use: Prometheus was chained +to his rock: read Shelley: read Mrs Browning. Well, well, it was +not to be. _[He rises solemnly]._ Lord Summerhays: I ask you to +excuse me for a few moments. There are times when a man needs to +meditate in solitude on his destiny. A chord is touched; and he sees +the drama of his life as a spectator sees a play. Laugh if you feel +inclined: no man sees the comic side of it more than I. In the +theatre of life everyone may be amused except the actor. +_[Brightening]_ Theres an idea in this: an idea for a picture. What +a pity young Bentley is not a painter! Tarleton meditating on his +destiny. Not in a toga. Not in the trappings of the tragedian or the +philosopher. In plain coat and trousers: a man like any other man. +And beneath that coat and trousers a human soul. Tarleton's +Underwear! _[He goes out gravely into the vestibule]._ + +MRS TARLETON. _[fondly]_ I suppose it's a wife's partiality, Lord +Summerhays; but I do think John is really great. I'm sure he was +meant to be a king. My father looked down on John, because he was a +rate collector, and John kept a shop. It hurt his pride to have to +borrow money so often from John; and he used to console himself by +saying, "After all, he's only a linendraper." But at last one day he +said to me, "John is a king." + +BENTLEY. How much did he borrow on that occasion? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[sharply]_ Bentley! + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, dont scold the child: he'd have to say something +like that if it was to be his last word on earth. Besides, hes quite +right: my poor father had asked for his usual five pounds; and John +gave him a hundred in his big way. Just like a king. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Not at all. I had five kings to manage in +Jinghiskahn; and I think you do your husband some injustice, Mrs +Tarleton. They pretended to like me because I kept their brothers +from murdering them; but I didnt like them. And I like Tarleton. + +MRS TARLETON. Everybody does. I really must go and make the cook do +him a Welsh rabbit. He expects one on special occasions. _[She goes +to the inner door]._ Johnny: when he comes back ask him where we're +to put that new Turkish bath. Turkish baths are his latest. _[She +goes out]._ + +JOHNNY. _[coming forward again]_ Now that the Governor has given +himself away, and the old lady's gone, I'll tell you something, Lord +Summerhays. If you study men whove made an enormous pile in business +without being keen on money, youll find that they all have a slate +off. The Governor's a wonderful man; but hes not quite all there, you +know. If you notice, hes different from me; and whatever my failings +may be, I'm a sane man. Erratic: thats what he is. And the danger +is that some day he'll give the whole show away. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Giving the show away is a method like any other +method. Keeping it to yourself is only another method. I should keep +an open mind about it. + +JOHNNY. Has it ever occurred to you that a man with an open mind must +be a bit of a scoundrel? If you ask me, I like a man who makes up his +mind once for all as to whats right and whats wrong and then sticks to +it. At all events you know where to have him. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. That may not be his object. + +BENTLEY. He may want to have you, old chap. + +JOHNNY. Well, let him. If a member of my club wants to steal my +umbrella, he knows where to find it. If a man put up for the club who +had an open mind on the subject of property in umbrellas, I should +blackball him. An open mind is all very well in clever talky-talky; +but in conduct and in business give me solid ground. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Yes: the quicksands make life difficult. Still, +there they are. It's no use pretending theyre rocks. + +JOHNNY. I dont know. You can draw a line and make other chaps toe +it. Thats what I call morality. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Very true. But you dont make any progress when +youre toeing a line. + +HYPATIA. _[suddenly, as if she could bear no more of it]_ Bentley: +do go and play tennis with Johnny. You must take exercise. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Do, my boy, do. _[To Johnny]_ Take him out and +make him skip about. + +BENTLEY. _[rising reluctantly]_ I promised you two inches more round +my chest this summer. I tried exercises with an indiarubber expander; +but I wasnt strong enough: instead of my expanding it, it crumpled me +up. Come along, Johnny. + +JOHNNY. Do you no end of good, young chap. _[He goes out with +Bentley through the pavilion]._ + +_Hypatia throws aside her work with an enormous sigh of relief._ + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. At last! + +HYPATIA. At last. Oh, if I might only have a holiday in an asylum +for the dumb. How I envy the animals! They cant talk. If Johnny +could only put back his ears or wag his tail instead of laying down +the law, how much better it would be! We should know when he was +cross and when he was pleased; and thats all we know now, with all his +talk. It never stops: talk, talk, talk, talk. Thats my life. All +the day I listen to mamma talking; at dinner I listen to papa talking; +and when papa stops for breath I listen to Johnny talking. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. You make me feel very guilty. I talk too, I'm +afraid. + +HYPATIA. Oh, I dont mind that, because your talk is a novelty. But +it must have been dreadful for your daughters. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I suppose so. + +HYPATIA. If parents would only realize how they bore their children! +Three or four times in the last half hour Ive been on the point of +screaming. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Were we very dull? + +HYPATIA. Not at all: you were very clever. Thats whats so hard to +bear, because it makes it so difficult to avoid listening. You see, +I'm young; and I do so want something to happen. My mother tells me +that when I'm her age, I shall be only too glad that nothing's +happened; but I'm not her age; so what good is that to me? Theres my +father in the garden, meditating on his destiny. All very well for +him: hes had a destiny to meditate on; but I havnt had any destiny +yet. Everything's happened to him: nothing's happened to me. Thats +why this unending talk is so maddeningly uninteresting to me. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. It would be worse if we sat in silence. + +HYPATIA. No it wouldnt. If you all sat in silence, as if you were +waiting for something to happen, then there would be hope even if +nothing did happen. But this eternal cackle, cackle, cackle about +things in general is only fit for old, old, OLD people. I suppose it +means something to them: theyve had their fling. All I listen for is +some sign of it ending in something; but just when it seems to be +coming to a point, Johnny or papa just starts another hare; and it all +begins over again; and I realize that it's never going to lead +anywhere and never going to stop. Thats when I want to scream. I +wonder how you can stand it. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Well, I'm old and garrulous myself, you see. +Besides, I'm not here of my own free will, exactly. I came because +you ordered me to come. + +HYPATIA. Didnt you want to come? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. My dear: after thirty years of managing other +people's business, men lose the habit of considering what they want or +dont want. + +HYPATIA. Oh, dont begin to talk about what men do, and about thirty +years experience. If you cant get off that subject, youd better send +for Johnny and papa and begin it all over again. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I'm sorry. I beg your pardon. + +HYPATIA. I asked you, didnt you want to come? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I did not stop to consider whether I wanted or not, +because when I read your letter I knew I had to come. + +HYPATIA. Why? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Oh come, Miss Tarleton! Really, really! Dont force +me to call you a blackmailer to your face. You have me in your power; +and I do what you tell me very obediently. Dont ask me to pretend I +do it of my own free will. + +HYPATIA. I dont know what a blackmailer is. I havnt even that much +experience. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. A blackmailer, my dear young lady, is a person who +knows a disgraceful secret in the life of another person, and extorts +money from that other person by threatening to make his secret public +unless the money is paid. + +HYPATIA. I havnt asked you for money. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. No; but you asked me to come down here and talk to +you; and you mentioned casually that if I didnt youd have nobody to +talk about me to but Bentley. That was a threat, was it not? + +HYPATIA. Well, I wanted you to come. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. In spite of my age and my unfortunate talkativeness? + +HYPATIA. I like talking to you. I can let myself go with you. I can +say things to you I cant say to other people. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I wonder why? + +HYPATIA. Well, you are the only really clever, grown-up, high-class, +experienced man I know who has given himself away to me by making an +utter fool of himself with me. You cant wrap yourself up in your toga +after that. You cant give yourself airs with me. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. You mean you can tell Bentley about me if I do. + +HYPATIA. Even if there wasnt any Bentley: even if you didnt care +(and I really dont see why you should care so much) still, we never +could be on conventional terms with one another again. Besides, Ive +got a feeling for you: almost a ghastly sort of love for you. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[shrinking]_ I beg you--no, please. + +HYPATIA. Oh, it's nothing at all flattering: and, of course, nothing +wrong, as I suppose youd call it. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Please believe that I know that. When men of my +age-- + +HYPATIA. _[impatiently]_ Oh, do talk about yourself when you mean +yourself, and not about men of your age. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I'll put it as bluntly as I can. When, as you say, +I made an utter fool of myself, believe me, I made a poetic fool of +myself. I was seduced, not by appetites which, thank Heaven, Ive long +outlived: not even by the desire of second childhood for a child +companion, but by the innocent impulse to place the delicacy and +wisdom and spirituality of my age at the affectionate service of your +youth for a few years, at the end of which you would be a grown, +strong, formed--widow. Alas, my dear, the delicacy of age reckoned, +as usual, without the derision and cruelty of youth. You told me that +you didnt want to be an old man's nurse, and that you didnt want to +have undersized children like Bentley. It served me right: I dont +reproach you: I was an old fool. But how you can imagine, after +that, that I can suspect you of the smallest feeling for me except the +inevitable feeling of early youth for late age, or imagine that I have +any feeling for you except one of shrinking humiliation, I cant +understand. + +HYPATIA. I dont blame you for falling in love with me. I shall be +grateful to you all my life for it, because that was the first time +that anything really interesting happened to me. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Do you mean to tell me that nothing of that kind had +ever happened before? that no man had ever-- + +HYPATIA. Oh, lots. Thats part of the routine of life here: the very +dullest part of it. The young man who comes a-courting is as familiar +an incident in my life as coffee for breakfast. Of course, hes too +much of a gentleman to misbehave himself; and I'm too much of a lady +to let him; and hes shy and sheepish; and I'm correct and +self-possessed; and at last, when I can bear it no longer, I either +frighten him off, or give him a chance of proposing, just to see how +he'll do it, and refuse him because he does it in the same silly way +as all the rest. You dont call that an event in one's life, do you? +With you it was different. I should as soon have expected the North +Pole to fall in love with me as you. You know I'm only a +linen-draper's daughter when all's said. I was afraid of you: you, a +great man! a lord! and older than my father. And then what a +situation it was! Just think of it! I was engaged to your son; and +you knew nothing about it. He was afraid to tell you: he brought you +down here because he thought if he could throw us together I could get +round you because I was such a ripping girl. We arranged it all: he +and I. We got Papa and Mamma and Johnny out of the way splendidly; +and then Bentley took himself off, and left us--you and me!--to take a +walk through the heather and admire the scenery of Hindhead. You +never dreamt that it was all a plan: that what made me so nice was +the way I was playing up to my destiny as the sweet girl that was to +make your boy happy. And then! and then! _[She rises to dance and +clap her hands in her glee]._ + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[shuddering]_ Stop, stop. Can no woman understand +a man's delicacy? + +HYPATIA. _[revelling in the recollection]_ And then--ha, ha!--you +proposed. You! A father! For your son's girl! + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Stop, I tell you. Dont profane what you dont +understand. + +HYPATIA. That was something happening at last with a vengeance. It +was splendid. It was my first peep behind the scenes. If I'd been +seventeen I should have fallen in love with you. Even as it is, I +feel quite differently towards you from what I do towards other old +men. So _[offering her hand]_ you may kiss my hand if that will be +any fun for you. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[rising and recoiling to the table, deeply +revolted]_ No, no, no. How dare you? _[She laughs mischievously]._ +How callous youth is! How coarse! How cynical! How ruthlessly +cruel! + +HYPATIA. Stuff! It's only that youre tired of a great many things +Ive never tried. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. It's not alone that. Ive not forgotten the +brutality of my own boyhood. But do try to learn, glorious young +beast that you are, that age is squeamish, sentimental, fastidious. +If you cant understand my holier feelings, at least you know the +bodily infirmities of the old. You know that I darent eat all the +rich things you gobble up at every meal; that I cant bear the noise +and racket and clatter that affect you no more than they affect a +stone. Well, my soul is like that too. Spare it: be gentle with it +_[he involuntarily puts out his hands to plead: she takes them with a +laugh]._ If you could possibly think of me as half an angel and half +an invalid, we should get on much better together. + +HYPATIA. We get on very well, I think. Nobody else ever called me a +glorious young beast. I like that. Glorious young beast expresses +exactly what I like to be. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[extricating his hands and sitting down]_ Where on +earth did you get these morbid tastes? You seem to have been well +brought up in a normal, healthy, respectable, middle-class family. +Yet you go on like the most unwholesome product of the rankest +Bohemianism. + +HYPATIA. Thats just it. I'm fed up with-- + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Horrible expression. Dont. + +HYPATIA. Oh, I daresay it's vulgar; but theres no other word for it. +I'm fed up with nice things: with respectability, with propriety! +When a woman has nothing to do, money and respectability mean that +nothing is ever allowed to happen to her. I dont want to be good; and +I dont want to be bad: I just dont want to be bothered about either +good or bad: I want to be an active verb. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. An active verb? Oh, I see. An active verb +signifies to be, to do, or to suffer. + +HYPATIA. Just so: how clever of you! I want to be; I want to do; +and I'm game to suffer if it costs that. But stick here doing nothing +but being good and nice and ladylike I simply wont. Stay down here +with us for a week; and I'll shew you what it means: shew it to you +going on day after day, year after year, lifetime after lifetime. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Shew me what? + +HYPATIA. Girls withering into ladies. Ladies withering into old +maids. Nursing old women. Running errands for old men. Good for +nothing else at last. Oh, you cant imagine the fiendish selfishness +of the old people and the maudlin sacrifice of the young. It's more +unbearable than any poverty: more horrible than any +regular-right-down wickedness. Oh, home! home! parents! family! duty! +how I loathe them! How I'd like to see them all blown to bits! The +poor escape. The wicked escape. Well, I cant be poor: we're rolling +in money: it's no use pretending we're not. But I can be wicked; and +I'm quite prepared to be. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. You think that easy? + +HYPATIA. Well, isnt it? Being a man, you ought to know. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. It requires some natural talent, which can no doubt +be cultivated. It's not really easy to be anything out of the common. + +HYPATIA. Anyhow, I mean to make a fight for living. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Living your own life, I believe the Suffragist +phrase is. + +HYPATIA. Living any life. Living, instead of withering without even +a gardener to snip you off when youre rotten. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Ive lived an active life; but Ive withered all the +same. + +HYPATIA. No: youve worn out: thats quite different. And youve some +life in you yet or you wouldnt have fallen in love with me. You can +never imagine how delighted I was to find that instead of being the +correct sort of big panjandrum you were supposed to be, you were +really an old rip like papa. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. No, no: not about your father: I really cant bear +it. And if you must say these terrible things: these heart-wounding +shameful things, at least find something prettier to call me than an +old rip. + +HYPATIA. Well, what would you call a man proposing to a girl who +might be-- + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. His daughter: yes, I know. + +HYPATIA. I was going to say his granddaughter. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. You always have one more blow to get in. + +HYPATIA. Youre too sensitive. Did you ever make mud pies when you +were a kid--beg pardon: a child. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I hope not. + +HYPATIA. It's a dirty job; but Johnny and I were vulgar enough to +like it. I like young people because theyre not too afraid of dirt to +live. Ive grown out of the mud pies; but I like slang; and I like +bustling you up by saying things that shock you; and I'd rather put up +with swearing and smoking than with dull respectability; and there are +lots of things that would just shrivel you up that I think rather +jolly. Now! + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Ive not the slightest doubt of it. Dont insist. + +HYPATIA. It's not your ideal, is it? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. No. + +HYPATIA. Shall I tell you why? Your ideal is an old woman. I +daresay shes got a young face; but shes an old woman. Old, old, old. +Squeamish. Cant stand up to things. Cant enjoy things: not real +things. Always on the shrink. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. On the shrink! Detestable expression. + +HYPATIA. Bah! you cant stand even a little thing like that. What +good are you? Oh, what good are you? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Dont ask me. I dont know. I dont know. + +_Tarleton returns from the vestibule. Hypatia sits down demurely._ + +HYPATIA. Well, papa: have you meditated on your destiny? + +TARLETON. _[puzzled]_ What? Oh! my destiny. Gad, I forgot all +about it: Jock started a rabbit and put it clean out of my head. +Besides, why should I give way to morbid introspection? It's a sign +of madness. Read Lombroso. _[To Lord Summerhays]_ Well, Summerhays, +has my little girl been entertaining you? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Yes. She is a wonderful entertainer. + +TARLETON. I think my idea of bringing up a young girl has been rather +a success. Dont you listen to this, Patsy: it might make you +conceited. Shes never been treated like a child. I always said the +same thing to her mother. Let her read what she likes. Let her do +what she likes. Let her go where she likes. Eh, Patsy? + +HYPATIA. Oh yes, if there had only been anything for me to do, any +place for me to go, anything I wanted to read. + +TARLETON. There, you see! Shes not satisfied. Restless. Wants +things to happen. Wants adventures to drop out of the sky. + +HYPATIA. _[gathering up her work]_ If youre going to talk about me +and my education, I'm off. + +TARLETON. Well, well, off with you. _[To Lord Summerhays]_ Shes +active, like me. She actually wanted me to put her into the shop. + +HYPATIA. Well, they tell me that the girls there have adventures +sometimes. _[She goes out through the inner door]_ + +TARLETON. She had me there, though she doesnt know it, poor innocent +lamb! Public scandal exaggerates enormously, of course; but moralize +as you will, superabundant vitality is a physical fact that cant be +talked away. _[He sits down between the writing table and the +sideboard]._ Difficult question this, of bringing up children. +Between ourselves, it has beaten me. I never was so surprised in my +life as when I came to know Johnny as a man of business and found out +what he was really like. How did you manage with your sons? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Well, I really hadnt time to be a father: thats the +plain truth of the matter. Their poor dear mother did the usual thing +while they were with us. Then of course, Harrow, Cambridge, the usual +routine of their class. I saw very little of them, and thought very +little about them: how could I? with a whole province on my hands. +They and I are--acquaintances. Not perhaps, quite ordinary +acquaintances: theres a sort of--er--I should almost call it a sort +of remorse about the way we shake hands (when we do shake hands) which +means, I suppose, that we're sorry we dont care more for one another; +and I'm afraid we dont meet oftener than we can help. We put each +other too much out of countenance. It's really a very difficult +relation. To my mind not altogether a natural one. + +TARLETON. _[impressed, as usual]_ Thats an idea, certainly. I dont +think anybody has ever written about that. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Bentley is the only one who was really my son in any +serious sense. He was completely spoilt. When he was sent to a +preparatory school he simply yelled until he was sent home. Harrow +was out of the question; but we managed to tutor him into Cambridge. +No use: he was sent down. By that time my work was over; and I saw a +good deal of him. But I could do nothing with him--except look on. I +should have thought your case was quite different. You keep up the +middle-class tradition: the day school and the business training +instead of the university. I believe in the day school part of it. +At all events, you know your own children. + +TARLETON. Do you? I'm not so sure of it. Fact is, my dear +Summerhays, once childhood is over, once the little animal has got +past the stage at which it acquires what you might call a sense of +decency, it's all up with the relation between parent and child. You +cant get over the fearful shyness of it. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Shyness? + +TARLETON. Yes, shyness. Read Dickens. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS _[surprised]_ Dickens!! Of all authors, Charles +Dickens! Are you serious? + +TARLETON. I dont mean his books. Read his letters to his family. +Read any man's letters to his children. Theyre not human. Theyre not +about himself or themselves. Theyre about hotels, scenery, about the +weather, about getting wet and losing the train and what he saw on the +road and all that. Not a word about himself. Forced. Shy. Duty +letters. All fit to be published: that says everything. I tell you +theres a wall ten feet thick and ten miles high between parent and +child. I know what I'm talking about. Ive girls in my employment: +girls and young men. I had ideas on the subject. I used to go to the +parents and tell them not to let their children go out into the world +without instruction in the dangers and temptations they were going to +be thrown into. What did every one of the mothers say to me? "Oh, +sir, how could I speak of such things to my own daughter?" The men +said I was quite right; but they didnt do it, any more than I'd been +able to do it myself to Johnny. I had to leave books in his way; and +I felt just awful when I did it. Believe me, Summerhays, the relation +between the young and the old should be an innocent relation. It +should be something they could talk about. Well, the relation between +parent and child may be an affectionate relation. It may be a useful +relation. It may be a necessary relation. But it can never be an +innocent relation. Youd die rather than allude to it. Depend on it, +in a thousand years itll be considered bad form to know who your +father and mother are. Embarrassing. Better hand Bentley over to me. +I can look him in the face and talk to him as man to man. You can +have Johnny. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Thank you. Ive lived so long in a country where a +man may have fifty sons, who are no more to him than a regiment of +soldiers, that I'm afraid Ive lost the English feeling about it. + +TARLETON. _[restless again]_ You mean Jinghiskahn. Ah yes. Good +thing the empire. Educates us. Opens our minds. Knocks the Bible +out of us. And civilizes the other chaps. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Yes: it civilizes them. And it uncivilizes us. +Their gain. Our loss, Tarleton, believe me, our loss. + +TARLETON. Well, why not? Averages out the human race. Makes the +nigger half an Englishman. Makes the Englishman half a nigger. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Speaking as the unfortunate Englishman in question, +I dont like the process. If I had my life to live over again, I'd +stay at home and supercivilize myself. + +TARLETON. Nonsense! dont be selfish. Think how youve improved the +other chaps. Look at the Spanish empire! Bad job for Spain, but +splendid for South America. Look at what the Romans did for Britain! +They burst up and had to clear out; but think of all they taught us! +They were the making of us: I believe there was a Roman camp on +Hindhead: I'll shew it to you tomorrow. Thats the good side of +Imperialism: it's unselfish. I despise the Little Englanders: +theyre always thinking about England. Smallminded. I'm for the +Parliament of man, the federation of the world. Read Tennyson. _[He +settles down again]._ Then theres the great food question. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[apprehensively]_ Need we go into that this +afternoon? + +TARLETON. No; but I wish youd tell the Chickabiddy that the +Jinghiskahns eat no end of toasted cheese, and that it's the secret of +their amazing health and long life! + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Unfortunately they are neither healthy nor long +lived. And they dont eat toasted cheese. + +TARLETON. There you are! They would be if they ate it. Anyhow, +say what you like, provided the moral is a Welsh rabbit for my supper. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. British morality in a nutshell! + +TARLETON. _[hugely amused]_ Yes. Ha ha! Awful hypocrites, aint we? + +_They are interrupted by excited cries from the grounds._ + +HYPATIA. | Papa! Mamma! Come out as fast as you can. + | Quick. Quick. + | +BENTLEY. | Hello, governor! Come out. An aeroplane. + | Look, look. + +TARLETON. _[starting up]_ Aeroplane! Did he say an aeroplane? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Aeroplane! _[A shadow falls on the pavilion; and +some of the glass at the top is shattered and falls on the floor]._ + +_Tarleton and Lord Summerhays rush out through the pavilion into the +garden._ + +HYPATIA. | Take care. Take care of the chimney. + | +BENTLEY. | Come this side: it's coming right + | where youre standing. + | +TARLETON. | Hallo! where the devil are you + | coming? youll have my roof off. + | +LORD SUMMERHAYS| He's lost control. + +MRS TARLETON. Look, look, Hypatia. There are two people in it. + +BENTLEY. Theyve cleared it. Well steered! + +TARLETON. | Yes; but theyre coming slam into the greenhouse. + | +LORD SUMMERHAYS| Look out for the glass. + | +MRS TARLETON. | Theyll break all the glass. Theyll + | spoil all the grapes. + | +BENTLEY. | Mind where youre coming. He'll + | save it. No: theyre down. + +_An appalling crash of breaking glass is heard. Everybody shrieks._ + +MRS TARLETON. | Oh, are they killed? John: are they killed? + | +LORD SUMMERHAYS| Are you hurt? Is anything broken? Can you stand? + | +HYPATIA. | Oh, you must be hurt. Are you sure? Shall I get + | you some water? Or some wine? + | +TARLETON. | Are you all right? Sure you wont have some + | brandy just to take off the shock. + +THE AVIATOR. No, thank you. Quite right. Not a scratch. I assure +you I'm all right. + +BENTLEY. What luck! And what a smash! You are a lucky chap, I can +tell you. + +_The Aviator and Tarleton come in through the pavilion, followed by +Lord Summerhays and Bentley, the Aviator on Tarleton's right. Bentley +passes the Aviator and turns to have an admiring look at him. Lord +Summerhays overtakes Tarleton less pointedly on the opposite side with +the same object._ + +THE AVIATOR. I'm really very sorry. I'm afraid Ive knocked your +vinery into a cocked hat. (_Effusively_) You dont mind, do you? + +TARLETON. Not a bit. Come in and have some tea. Stay to dinner. +Stay over the week-end. All my life Ive wanted to fly. + +THE AVIATOR. _[taking off his goggles]_ Youre really more than kind. + +BENTLEY. Why, its Joey Percival. + +PERCIVAL. Hallo, Ben! That you? + +TARLETON. What! The man with three fathers! + +PERCIVAL. Oh! has Ben been talking about me? + +TARLETON. Consider yourself as one of the family--if you will do me +the honor. And your friend too. Wheres your friend? + +PERCIVAL. Oh, by the way! before he comes in: let me explain. I +dont know him. + +TARLETON. Eh? + +PERCIVAL. Havnt even looked at him. I'm trying to make a club record +with a passenger. The club supplied the passenger. He just got in; +and Ive been too busy handling the aeroplane to look at him. I havnt +said a word to him; and I cant answer for him socially; but hes an +ideal passenger for a flyer. He saved me from a smash. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I saw it. It was extraordinary. When you were +thrown out he held on to the top bar with one hand. You came past him +in the air, going straight for the glass. He caught you and turned +you off into the flower bed, and then lighted beside you like a bird. + +PERCIVAL. How he kept his head I cant imagine. Frankly, _I_ didnt. + +_The Passenger, also begoggled, comes in through the pavilion with +Johnny and the two ladies. The Passenger comes between Percival and +Tarleton, Mrs Tarleton between Lord Summerhays and her husband, +Hypatia between Percival and Bentley, and Johnny to Bentley's right._ + +TARLETON. Just discussing your prowess, my dear sir. Magnificent. +Youll stay to dinner. Youll stay the night. Stay over the week. The +Chickabiddy will be delighted. + +MRS TARLETON. Wont you take off your goggles and have some tea? + +_The Passenger begins to remove the goggles._ + +TARLETON. Do. Have a wash. Johnny: take the gentleman to your +room: I'll look after Mr Percival. They must-- + +_By this time the passenger has got the goggles off, and stands +revealed as a remarkably good-looking woman._ + +MRS TARLETON. | Well I never!!! | + | | +BENTLEY. | [_in a whisper_] Oh, I say! | + | | +JOHNNY. | By George! | + | | _All +LORD SUMMERHAYS| A lady! | to- + | | gether._ +HYPATIA. | A woman! | + | | +TARLETON. | [_to Percival_] You never told me-- | + | | +PERCIVAL. | I hadnt the least idea-- | + +_An embarrassed pause._ + +PERCIVAL. I assure you if I'd had the faintest notion that my +passenger was a lady I shouldnt have left you to shift for yourself in +that selfish way. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. The lady seems to have shifted for both very +effectually, sir. + +PERCIVAL. Saved my life. I admit it most gratefully. + +TARLETON. I must apologize, madam, for having offered you the +civilities appropriate to the opposite sex. And yet, why opposite? +We are all human: males and females of the same species. When the +dress is the same the distinction vanishes. I'm proud to receive in +my house a lady of evident refinement and distinction. Allow me to +introduce myself: Tarleton: John Tarleton (_seeing conjecture in the +passenger's eye_)--yes, yes: Tarleton's Underwear. My wife, Mrs +Tarleton: youll excuse me for having in what I had taken to be a +confidence between man and man alluded to her as the Chickabiddy. My +daughter Hypatia, who has always wanted some adventure to drop out of +the sky, and is now, I hope, satisfied at last. Lord Summerhays: a +man known wherever the British flag waves. His son Bentley, engaged +to Hypatia. Mr Joseph Percival, the promising son of three highly +intellectual fathers. + +HYPATIA. _[startled]_ Bentley's friend? _[Bentley nods]._ + +TARLETON. _[continuing, to the passenger]_ May I now ask to be +allowed the pleasure of knowing your name? + +THE PASSENGER. My name is Lina Szczepanowska _[pronouncing it +Sh-Chepanovska]._ + +PERCIVAL. Sh-- I beg your pardon? + +LINA. Szczepanowska. + +PERCIVAL. _[dubiously]_ Thank you. + +TARLETON. _[very politely]_ Would you mind saying it again? + +LINA. Say fish. + +TARLETON. Fish. + +LINA. Say church. + +TARLETON. Church. + +LINA. Say fish church. + +TARLETON. _[remonstrating]_ But it's not good sense. + +LINA. _[inexorable]_ Say fish church. + +TARLETON. Fish church. + +LINA. Again. + +TARLETON. No, but--_[resigning himself]_ fish church. + +LINA. Now say Szczepanowska. + +TARLETON. Szczepanowska. Got it, by Gad. _[A sibilant whispering +becomes audible: they are all saying Sh-ch to themselves]._ +Szczepanowska! Not an English name, is it? + +LINA. Polish. I'm a Pole. + +TARLETON. Ah yes. Interesting nation. Lucky people to get the +government of their country taken off their hands. Nothing to do but +cultivate themselves. Same as we took Gibraltar off the hands of the +Spaniards. Saves the Spanish taxpayer. Jolly good thing for us if +the Germans took Portsmouth. Sit down, wont you? + +_The group breaks up. Johnny and Bentley hurry to the pavilion and +fetch the two wicker chairs. Johnny gives his to Lina. Hypatia and +Percival take the chairs at the worktable. Lord Summerhays gives the +chair at the vestibule end of the writing table to Mrs Tarleton; and +Bentley replaces it with a wicker chair, which Lord Summerhays takes. +Johnny remains standing behind the worktable, Bentley behind his +father._ + +MRS TARLETON. _[to Lina]_ Have some tea now, wont you? + +LINA. I never drink tea. + +TARLETON. _[sitting down at the end of the writing table nearest +Lina]_ Bad thing to aeroplane on, I should imagine. Too jumpy. Been +up much? + +LINA. Not in an aeroplane. Ive parachuted; but thats child's play. + +MRS TARLETON. But arnt you very foolish to run such a dreadful risk? + +LINA. You cant live without running risks. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, what a thing to say! Didnt you know you might have +been killed? + +LINA. That was why I went up. + +HYPATIA. Of course. Cant you understand the fascination of the +thing? the novelty! the daring! the sense of something happening! + +LINA. Oh no. It's too tame a business for that. I went up for +family reasons. + +TARLETON. Eh? What? Family reasons? + +MRS TARLETON. I hope it wasnt to spite your mother? + +PERCIVAL. _[quickly]_ Or your husband? + +LINA. I'm not married. And why should I want to spite my mother? + +HYPATIA. _[aside to Percival]_ That was clever of you, Mr Percival. + +PERCIVAL. What? + +HYPATIA. To find out. + +TARLETON. I'm in a difficulty. I cant understand a lady going up in +an aeroplane for family reasons. It's rude to be curious and ask +questions; but then it's inhuman to be indifferent, as if you didnt +care. + +LINA. I'll tell you with pleasure. For the last hundred and fifty +years, not a single day has passed without some member of my family +risking his life--or her life. It's a point of honor with us to keep +up that tradition. Usually several of us do it; but it happens that +just at this moment it is being kept up by one of my brothers only. +Early this morning I got a telegram from him to say that there had +been a fire, and that he could do nothing for the rest of the week. +Fortunately I had an invitation from the Aerial League to see this +gentleman try to break the passenger record. I appealed to the +President of the League to let me save the honor of my family. He +arranged it for me. + +TARLETON. Oh, I must be dreaming. This is stark raving nonsense. + +LINA. _[quietly]_ You are quite awake, sir. + +JOHNNY. We cant all be dreaming the same thing, Governor. + +TARLETON. Of course not, you duffer; but then I'm dreaming you as +well as the lady. + +MRS TARLETON. Dont be silly, John. The lady is only joking, I'm +sure. _[To Lina]_ I suppose your luggage is in the aeroplane. + +PERCIVAL. Luggage was out of the question. If I stay to dinner I'm +afraid I cant change unless youll lend me some clothes. + +MRS TARLETON. Do you mean neither of you? + +PERCIVAL. I'm afraid so. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh well, never mind: Hypatia will lend the lady a +gown. + +LINA. Thank you: I'm quite comfortable as I am. I am not accustomed +to gowns: they hamper me and make me feel ridiculous; so if you dont +mind I shall not change. + +MRS TARLETON. Well, I'm beginning to think I'm doing a bit of +dreaming myself. + +HYPATIA. _[impatiently]_ Oh, it's all right, mamma. Johnny: look +after Mr. Percival. _[To Lina, rising]_ Come with me. + +_Lina follows her to the inner door. They all rise._ + +JOHNNY. _[to Percival]_ I'll shew you. + +PERCIVAL. Thank you. + +_Lina goes out with Hypatia, and Percival with Johnny._ + +MRS TARLETON. Well, this is a nice thing to happen! And look at the +greenhouse! Itll cost thirty pounds to mend it. People have no right +to do such things. And you invited them to dinner too! What sort of +woman is that to have in our house when you know that all Hindhead +will be calling on us to see that aeroplane? Bunny: come with me and +help me to get all the people out of the grounds: I declare they came +running as if theyd sprung up out of the earth _[she makes for the +inner door]._ + +TARLETON. No: dont you trouble, Chickabiddy: I'll tackle em. + +MRS TARLETON. Indeed youll do nothing of the kind: youll stay here +quietly with Lord Summerhays. Youd invite them all to dinner. Come, +Bunny. _[She goes out, followed by Bentley. Lord Summerhays sits +down again]._ + +TARLETON. Singularly beautiful woman Summerhays. What do you make of +her? She must be a princess. Whats this family of warriors and +statesmen that risk their lives every day? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. They are evidently not warriors and statesmen, or +they wouldnt do that. + +TARLETON. Well, then, who the devil are they? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I think I know. The last time I saw that lady, she +did something I should not have thought possible. + +TARLETON. What was that? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Well, she walked backwards along a taut wire without +a balancing pole and turned a somersault in the middle. I remember +that her name was Lina, and that the other name was foreign; though I +dont recollect it. + +TARLETON. Szcz! You couldnt have forgotten that if youd heard it. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I didnt hear it: I only saw it on a program. But +it's clear shes an acrobat. It explains how she saved Percival. And +it accounts for her family pride. + +TARLETON. An acrobat, eh? Good, good, good! Summerhays: that +brings her within reach. Thats better than a princess. I steeled +this evergreen heart of mine when I thought she was a princess. Now I +shall let it be touched. She is accessible. Good. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I hope you are not serious. Remember: you have a +family. You have a position. You are not in your first youth. + +TARLETON. No matter. + + Theres magic in the night + When the heart is young. + +My heart is young. Besides, I'm a married man, not a widower like +you. A married man can do anything he likes if his wife dont mind. A +widower cant be too careful. Not that I would have you think me an +unprincipled man or a bad husband. I'm not. But Ive a superabundance +of vitality. Read Pepys' Diary. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. The woman is your guest, Tarleton. + +TARLETON. Well, is she? A woman I bring into my house is my guest. +A woman you bring into my house is my guest. But a woman who drops +bang down out of the sky into my greenhouse and smashes every blessed +pane of glass in it must take her chance. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Still, you know that my name must not be associated +with any scandal. Youll be careful, wont you? + +TARLETON. Oh Lord, yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. I was only joking, +of course. + +_Mrs Tarleton comes back through the inner door._ + +MRS TARLETON. Well I never! John: I dont think that young woman's +right in her head. Do you know what shes just asked for? + +TARLETON. Champagne? + +MRS TARLETON. No. She wants a Bible and six oranges. + +TARLETON. What? + +MRS TARLETON. A Bible and six oranges. + +TARLETON. I understand the oranges: shes doing an orange cure of +some sort. But what on earth does she want the Bible for? + +MRS TARLETON. I'm sure I cant imagine. She cant be right in her +head. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Perhaps she wants to read it. + +MRS TARLETON. But why should she, on a weekday, at all events. What +would you advise me to do, Lord Summerhays? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Well, is there a Bible in the house? + +TARLETON. Stacks of em. Theres the family Bible, and the Dore Bible, +and the parallel revised version Bible, and the Doves Press Bible, and +Johnny's Bible and Bobby's Bible and Patsy's Bible, and the +Chickabiddy's Bible and my Bible; and I daresay the servants could +raise a few more between them. Let her have the lot. + +MRS TARLETON. Dont talk like that before Lord Summerhays, John. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. It doesnt matter, Mrs Tarleton: in Jinghiskahn it +was a punishable offence to expose a Bible for sale. The empire has +no religion. + +_Lina comes in. She has left her cap in Hypatia's room. She stops on +the landing just inside the door, and speaks over the handrail._ + +LINA. Oh, Mrs Tarleton, shall I be making myself very troublesome if +I ask for a music-stand in my room as well? + +TARLETON. Not at all. You can have the piano if you like. Or the +gramophone. Have the gramophone. + +LINA. No, thank you: no music. + +MRS TARLETON. _[going to the steps]_ Do you think it's good for you +to eat so many oranges? Arnt you afraid of getting jaundice? + +LINA. _[coming down]_ Not in the least. But billiard balls will do +quite as well. + +MRS TARLETON. But you cant eat billiard balls, child! + +TARLETON. Get em, Chickabiddy. I understand. _[He imitates a +juggler tossing up balls]._ Eh? + +LINA. _[going to him, past his wife]_ Just so. + +TARLETON. Billiard balls and cues. Plates, knives, and forks. Two +paraffin lamps and a hatstand. + +LINA. No: that is popular low-class business. In our family we +touch nothing but classical work. Anybody can do lamps and hatstands. +_I_ can do silver bullets. That is really hard. _[She passes on to +Lord Summerhays, and looks gravely down at him as he sits by the +writing table]._ + +MRS TARLETON. Well, I'm sure I dont know what youre talking about; +and I only hope you know yourselves. However, you shall have what you +want, of course. _[She goes up the steps and leaves the room]._ + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Will you forgive my curiosity? What is the Bible +for? + +LINA. To quiet my soul. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS _[with a sigh]_ Ah yes, yes. It no longer quiets +mine, I am sorry to say. + +LINA. That is because you do not know how to read it. Put it up +before you on a stand; and open it at the Psalms. When you can read +them and understand them, quite quietly and happily, and keep six +balls in the air all the time, you are in perfect condition; and youll +never make a mistake that evening. If you find you cant do that, then +go and pray until you can. And be very careful that evening. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Is that the usual form of test in your profession? + +LINA. Nothing that we Szczepanowskis do is usual, my lord. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Are you all so wonderful? + +LINA. It is our profession to be wonderful. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Do you never condescend to do as common people do? +For instance, do you not pray as common people pray? + +LINA. Common people do not pray, my lord: they only beg. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. You never ask for anything? + +LINA. No. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Then why do you pray? + +LINA. To remind myself that I have a soul. + +TARLETON. _[walking about]_ True. Fine. Good. Beautiful. All +this damned materialism: what good is it to anybody? Ive got a soul: +dont tell me I havnt. Cut me up and you cant find it. Cut up a steam +engine and you cant find the steam. But, by George, it makes the +engine go. Say what you will, Summerhays, the divine spark is a fact. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Have I denied it? + +TARLETON. Our whole civilization is a denial of it. Read Walt +Whitman. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I shall go to the billiard room and get the balls +for you. + +LINA. Thank you. + +_Lord Summerhays goes out through the vestibule door._ + +TARLETON. _[going to her]_ Listen to me. _[She turns quickly]._ +What you said just now was beautiful. You touch chords. You appeal +to the poetry in a man. You inspire him. Come now! Youre a woman of +the world: youre independent: you must have driven lots of men +crazy. You know the sort of man I am, dont you? See through me at a +glance, eh? + +LINA. Yes. _[She sits down quietly in the chair Lord Summerhays has +just left]._ + +TARLETON. Good. Well, do you like me? Dont misunderstand me: I'm +perfectly aware that youre not going to fall in love at first sight +with a ridiculous old shopkeeper. I cant help that ridiculous old +shopkeeper. I have to carry him about with me whether I like it or +not. I have to pay for his clothes, though I hate the cut of them: +especially the waistcoat. I have to look at him in the glass while +I'm shaving. I loathe him because hes a living lie. My soul's not +like that: it's like yours. I want to make a fool of myself. About +you. Will you let me? + +LINA. _[very calm]_ How much will you pay? + +TARLETON. Nothing. But I'll throw as many sovereigns as you like +into the sea to shew you that I'm in earnest. + +LINA. Are those your usual terms? + +TARLETON. No. I never made that bid before. + +LINA. _[producing a dainty little book and preparing to write in it]_ +What did you say your name was? + +TARLETON. John Tarleton. The great John Tarleton of Tarleton's +Underwear. + +LINA. _[writing]_ T-a-r-l-e-t-o-n. Er--? _[She looks up at him +inquiringly]._ + +TARLETON. _[promptly]_ Fifty-eight. + +LINA. Thank you. I keep a list of all my offers. I like to know +what I'm considered worth. + +TARLETON. Let me look. + +LINA. _[offering the book to him]_ It's in Polish. + +TARLETON. Thats no good. Is mine the lowest offer? + +LINA. No: the highest. + +TARLETON. What do most of them come to? Diamonds? Motor cars? +Furs? Villa at Monte Carlo? + +LINA. Oh yes: all that. And sometimes the devotion of a lifetime. + +TARLETON. Fancy that! A young man offering a woman his old age as a +temptation! + +LINA. By the way, you did not say how long. + +TARLETON. Until you get tired of me. + +LINA. Or until you get tired of me? + +TARLETON. I never get tired. I never go on long enough for that. +But when it becomes so grand, so inspiring that I feel that everything +must be an anti-climax after that, then I run away. + +LINA. Does she let you go without a struggle? + +TARLETON. Yes. Glad to get rid of me. When love takes a man as it +takes me--when it makes him great--it frightens a woman. + +LINA. The lady here is your wife, isnt she? Dont you care for her? + +TARLETON. Yes. And mind! she comes first always. I reserve her +dignity even when I sacrifice my own. Youll respect that point of +honor, wont you? + +LINA. Only a point of honor? + +TARLETON. _[impulsively]_ No, by God! a point of affection as well. + +LINA. _[smiling, pleased with him]_ Shake hands, old pal _[she rises +and offers him her hand frankly]._ + +TARLETON. _[giving his hand rather dolefully]_ Thanks. That means +no, doesnt it? + +LINA. It means something that will last longer than yes. I like you. +I admit you to my friendship. What a pity you were not trained when +you were young! Youd be young still. + +TARLETON. I suppose, to an athlete like you, I'm pretty awful, eh? + +LINA. Shocking. + +TARLETON. Too much crumb. Wrinkles. Yellow patches that wont come +off. Short wind. I know. I'm ashamed of myself. I could do nothing +on the high rope. + +LINA. Oh yes: I could put you in a wheelbarrow and run you along, +two hundred feet up. + +TARLETON. _[shuddering]_ Ugh! Well, I'd do even that for you. Read +The Master Builder. + +LINA. Have you learnt everything from books? + +TARLETON. Well, have you learnt everything from the flying trapeze? + +LINA. On the flying trapeze there is often another woman; and her +life is in your hands every night and your life in hers. + +TARLETON. Lina: I'm going to make a fool of myself. I'm going to +cry _[he crumples into the nearest chair]._ + +LINA. Pray instead: dont cry. Why should you cry? Youre not the +first I've said no to. + +TARLETON. If you had said yes, should I have been the first then? + +LINA. What right have you to ask? Have I asked am _I_ the first? + +TARLETON. Youre right: a vulgar question. To a man like me, +everybody is the first. Life renews itself. + +LINA. The youngest child is the sweetest. + +TARLETON. Dont probe too deep, Lina. It hurts. + +LINA. You must get out of the habit of thinking that these things +matter so much. It's linendraperish. + +TARLETON. Youre quite right. Ive often said so. All the same, it +does matter; for I want to cry. _[He buries his face in his arms on +the work-table and sobs]._ + +LINA. _[going to him]_ O la la! _[She slaps him vigorously, but not +unkindly, on the shoulder]._ Courage, old pal, courage! Have you a +gymnasium here? + +TARLETON. Theres a trapeze and bars and things in the billiard room. + +LINA. Come. You need a few exercises. I'll teach you how to stop +crying. _[She takes his arm and leads him off into the vestibule]._ + +_A young man, cheaply dressed and strange in manner, appears in the +garden; steals to the pavilion door; and looks in. Seeing that there +is nobody, he enters cautiously until he has come far enough to see +into the hatstand corner. He draws a revolver, and examines it, +apparently to make sure that it is loaded. Then his attention is +caught by the Turkish bath. He looks down the lunette, and opens the +panels._ + +HYPATIA. _[calling in the garden]_ Mr Percival! Mr Percival! Where +are you? + +_The young man makes for the door, but sees Percival coming. He turns +and bolts into the Turkish bath, which he closes upon himself just in +time to escape being caught by Percival, who runs in through the +pavilion, bareheaded. He also, it appears, is in search of a +hiding-place; for he stops and turns between the two tables to take a +survey of the room; then runs into the corner between the end of the +sideboard and the wall. Hypatia, excited, mischievous, her eyes +glowing, runs in, precisely on his trail; turns at the same spot; and +discovers him just as he makes a dash for the pavilion door. She +flies back and intercepts him._ + +HYPATIA. Aha! arnt you glad Ive caught you? + +PERCIVAL. _[illhumoredly turning away from her and coming towards the +writing table]_ No I'm not. Confound it, what sort of girl are you? +What sort of house is this? Must I throw all good manners to the +winds? + +HYPATIA. _[following him]_ Do, do, do, do, do. This is the house of +a respectable shopkeeper, enormously rich. This is the respectable +shopkeeper's daughter, tired of good manners. _[Slipping her left +hand into his right]_ Come, handsome young man, and play with the +respectable shopkeeper's daughter. + +PERCIVAL. _[withdrawing quickly from her touch]_ No, no: dont you +know you mustnt go on like this with a perfect stranger? + +HYPATIA. Dropped down from the sky. Dont you know that you must +always go on like this when you get the chance? You must come to the +top of the hill and chase me through the bracken. You may kiss me if +you catch me. + +PERCIVAL. I shall do nothing of the sort. + +HYPATIA. Yes you will: you cant help yourself. Come along. _[She +seizes his sleeve]._ Fool, fool: come along. Dont you want to? + +PERCIVAL. No: certainly not. I should never be forgiven if I did +it. + +HYPATIA. Youll never forgive yourself if you dont. + +PERCIVAL. Nonsense. Youre engaged to Ben. Ben's my friend. What do +you take me for? + +HYPATIA. Ben's old. Ben was born old. Theyre all old here, except +you and me and the man-woman or woman-man or whatever you call her +that came with you. They never do anything: they only discuss +whether what other people do is right. Come and give them something +to discuss. + +PERCIVAL. I will do nothing incorrect. + +HYPATIA. Oh, dont be afraid, little boy: youll get nothing but a +kiss; and I'll fight like the devil to keep you from getting that. +But we must play on the hill and race through the heather. + +PERCIVAL. Why? + +HYPATIA. Because we want to, handsome young man. + +PERCIVAL. But if everybody went on in this way-- + +HYPATIA. How happy! oh how happy the world would be! + +PERCIVAL. But the consequences may be serious. + +HYPATIA. Nothing is worth doing unless the consequences may be +serious. My father says so; and I'm my father's daughter. + +PERCIVAL. I'm the son of three fathers. I mistrust these wild +impulses. + +HYPATIA. Take care. Youre letting the moment slip. I feel the first +chill of the wave of prudence. Save me. + +PERCIVAL. Really, Miss Tarleton _[she strikes him across the face]_ +--Damn you! _[Recovering himself, horrified at his lapse]_ I beg +your pardon; but since weve both forgotten ourselves, youll please +allow me to leave the house. _[He turns towards the inner door, +having left his cap in the bedroom]._ + +HYPATIA. _[standing in his way]_ Are you ashamed of having said +"Damn you" to me? + +PERCIVAL. I had no right to say it. I'm very much ashamed of it. I +have already begged your pardon. + +HYPATIA. And youre not ashamed of having said "Really, Miss +Tarleton." + +PERCIVAL. Why should I? + +HYPATIA. O man, man! mean, stupid, cowardly, selfish masculine male +man! You ought to have been a governess. I was expelled from school +for saying that the very next person that said "Really, Miss +Tarleton," to me, I would strike her across the face. You were the +next. + +PERCIVAL. I had no intention of being offensive. Surely there is +nothing that can wound any lady in--_[He hesitates, not quite +convinced]._ At least--er--I really didnt mean to be disagreeable. + +HYPATIA. Liar. + +PERCIVAL. Of course if youre going to insult me, I am quite helpless. +Youre a woman: you can say what you like. + +HYPATIA. And you can only say what you dare. Poor wretch: it isnt +much. _[He bites his lip, and sits down, very much annoyed]._ +Really, Mr Percival! You sit down in the presence of a lady and leave +her standing. _[He rises hastily]._ Ha, ha! Really, Mr Percival! +Oh really, really, really, really, really, Mr Percival! How do you +like it? Wouldnt you rather I damned you? + +PERCIVAL. Miss Tarleton-- + +HYPATIA. _[caressingly]_ Hypatia, Joey. Patsy, if you like. + +PERCIVAL. Look here: this is no good. You want to do what you like? + +HYPATIA. Dont you? + +PERCIVAL. No. Ive been too well brought up. Ive argued all through +this thing; and I tell you I'm not prepared to cast off the social +bond. It's like a corset: it's a support to the figure even if it +does squeeze and deform it a bit. I want to be free. + +HYPATIA. Well, I'm tempting you to be free. + +PERCIVAL. Not at all. Freedom, my good girl, means being able to +count on how other people will behave. If every man who dislikes me +is to throw a handful of mud in my face, and every woman who likes me +is to behave like Potiphar's wife, then I shall be a slave: the slave +of uncertainty: the slave of fear: the worst of all slaveries. How +would you like it if every laborer you met in the road were to make +love to you? No. Give me the blessed protection of a good stiff +conventionality among thoroughly well-brought up ladies and gentlemen. + +HYPATIA. Another talker! Men like conventions because men made them. +I didnt make them: I dont like them: I wont keep them. Now, what +will you do? + +PERCIVAL. Bolt. _[He runs out through the pavilion]._ + +HYPATIA. I'll catch you. _[She dashes off in pursuit]._ + +_During this conversation the head of the scandalized man in the +Turkish bath has repeatedly risen from the lunette, with a strong +expression of moral shock. It vanishes abruptly as the two turn +towards it in their flight. At the same moment Tarleton comes back +through the vestibule door, exhausted by severe and unaccustomed +exercise._ + +TARLETON. _[looking after the flying figures with amazement]_ Hallo, +Patsy: whats up? Another aeroplane? _[They are far too preoccupied +to hear him; and he is left staring after them as they rush away +through the garden. He goes to the pavilion door and looks up; but +the heavens are empty. His exhaustion disables him from further +inquiry. He dabs his brow with his handkerchief, and walks stiffly to +the nearest convenient support, which happens to be the Turkish bath. +He props himself upon it with his elbow, and covers his eyes with his +hand for a moment. After a few sighing breaths, he feels a little +better, and uncovers his eyes. The man's head rises from the lunette +a few inches from his nose. He recoils from the bath with a violent +start]._ Oh Lord! My brain's gone. _[Calling piteously]_ +Chickabiddy! _[He staggers down to the writing table]._ + +THE MAN. _[coming out of the bath, pistol in hand]_ Another sound; +and youre a dead man. + +TARLETON. _[braced]_ Am I? Well, youre a live one: thats one +comfort. I thought you were a ghost. _[He sits down, quite +undisturbed by the pistol]_ Who are you; and what the devil were you +doing in my new Turkish bath? + +THE MAN. _[with tragic intensity]_ I am the son of Lucinda Titmus. + +TARLETON. _[the name conveying nothing to him]_ Indeed? And how is +she? Quite well, I hope, eh? + +THE MAN. She is dead. Dead, my God! and youre alive. + +TARLETON. _[unimpressed by the tragedy, but sympathetic]_ Oh! Lost +your mother? Thats sad. I'm sorry. But we cant all have the luck to +survive our mothers, and be nursed out of the world by the hands that +nursed us into it. + +THE MAN. Much you care, damn you! + +TARLETON. Oh, dont cut up rough. Face it like a man. You see I +didnt know your mother; but Ive no doubt she was an excellent woman. + +THE MAN. Not know her! Do you dare to stand there by her open grave +and deny that you knew her? + +TARLETON. _[trying to recollect]_ What did you say her name was? + +THE MAN. Lucinda Titmus. + +TARLETON. Well, I ought to remember a rum name like that if I ever +heard it. But I dont. Have you a photograph or anything? + +THE MAN. Forgotten even the name of your victim! + +TARLETON. Oh! she was my victim, was she? + +THE MAN. She was. And you shall see her face again before you die, +dead as she is. I have a photograph. + +TARLETON. Good. + +THE MAN. Ive two photographs. + +TARLETON. Still better. Treasure the mother's pictures. Good boy! + +THE MAN. One of them as you knew her. The other as she became when +you flung her aside, and she withered into an old woman. + +TARLETON. She'd have done that anyhow, my lad. We all grow old. +Look at me! _[Seeing that the man is embarrassed by his pistol in +fumbling for the photographs with his left hand in his breast pocket]_ +Let me hold the gun for you. + +THE MAN. _[retreating to the worktable]_ Stand back. Do you take me +for a fool? + +TARLETON. Well, youre a little upset, naturally. It does you credit. + +THE MAN. Look here, upon this picture and on this. _[He holds out +the two photographs like a hand at cards, and points to them with the +pistol]._ + +TARLETON. Good. Read Shakespear: he has a word for every occasion. +_[He takes the photographs, one in each hand, and looks from one to +the other, pleased and interested, but without any sign of +recognition]_ What a pretty girl! Very pretty. I can imagine myself +falling in love with her when I was your age. I wasnt a bad-looking +young fellow myself in those days. _[Looking at the other]_ Curious +that we should both have gone the same way. + +THE MAN. You and she the same way! What do you mean? + +TARLETON. Both got stout, I mean. + +THE MAN. Would you have had her deny herself food? + +TARLETON. No: it wouldnt have been any use. It's constitutional. +No matter how little you eat you put on flesh if youre made that way. +_[He resumes his study of the earlier photograph]._ + +THE MAN. Is that all the feeling that rises in you at the sight of +the face you once knew so well? + +TARLETON. _[too much absorbed in the portrait to heed him]_ Funny +that I cant remember! Let this be a lesson to you, young man. I +could go into court tomorrow and swear I never saw that face before in +my life if it wasnt for that brooch _[pointing to the photograph]._ +Have you got that brooch, by the way? _[The man again resorts to his +breast pocket]._ You seem to carry the whole family property in that +pocket. + +THE MAN. _[producing a brooch]_ Here it is to prove my bona fides. + +TARLETON. _[pensively putting the photographs on the table and taking +the brooch]_ I bought that brooch in Cheapside from a man with a +yellow wig and a cast in his left eye. Ive never set eyes on him from +that day to this. And yet I remember that man; and I cant remember +your mother. + +THE MAN. Monster! Without conscience! without even memory! You left +her to her shame-- + +TARLETON. _[throwing the brooch on the table and rising pepperily]_ +Come, come, young man! none of that. Respect the romance of your +mother's youth. Dont you start throwing stones at her. I dont recall +her features just at this moment; but Ive no doubt she was kind to me +and we were happy together. If you have a word to say against her, +take yourself out of my house and say it elsewhere. + +THE MAN. What sort of a joker are you? Are you trying to put me in +the wrong, when you have to answer to me for a crime that would make +every honest man spit at you as you passed in the street if I were to +make it known? + +TARLETON. You read a good deal, dont you? + +THE MAN. What if I do? What has that to do with your infamy and my +mother's doom? + +TARLETON. There, you see! Doom! Thats not good sense; but it's +literature. Now it happens that I'm a tremendous reader: always was. +When I was your age I read books of that sort by the bushel: the Doom +sort, you know. It's odd, isnt it, that you and I should be like one +another in that respect? Can you account for it in any way? + +THE MAN. No. What are you driving at? + +TARLETON. Well, do you know who your father was? + +THE MAN. I see what you mean now. You dare set up to be my father. +Thank heaven Ive not a drop of your vile blood in my veins. + +TARLETON. _[sitting down again with a shrug]_ Well, if you wont be +civil, theres no pleasure in talking to you, is there? What do you +want? Money? + +THE MAN. How dare you insult me? + +TARLETON. Well, what do you want? + +THE MAN. Justice. + +TARLETON. Youre quite sure thats all? + +THE MAN. It's enough for me. + +TARLETON. A modest sort of demand, isnt it? Nobody ever had it since +the world began, fortunately for themselves; but you must have it, +must you? Well, youve come to the wrong shop for it: youll get no +justice here: we dont keep it. Human nature is what we stock. + +THE MAN. Human nature! Debauchery! gluttony! selfishness! robbery of +the poor! Is that what you call human nature? + +TARLETON. No: thats what you call it. Come, my lad! Whats the +matter with you? You dont look starved; and youve a decent suit of +clothes. + +THE MAN. Forty-two shillings. + +TARLETON. They can do you a very decent suit for forty-two shillings. +Have you paid for it? + +THE MAN. Do you take me for a thief? And do you suppose I can get +credit like you? + +TARLETON. Then you were able to lay your hand on forty-two shillings. +Judging from your conversational style, I should think you must spend +at least a shilling a week on romantic literature. + +THE MAN. Where would I get a shilling a week to spend on books when I +can hardly keep myself decent? I get books at the Free Library. + +TARLETON _[springing to his feet]_ What!!! + +THE MAN. _[recoiling before his vehemence]_ The Free Library. +Theres no harm in that. + +TARLETON. Ingrate! I supply you with free books; and the use you +make of them is to persuade yourself that it's a fine thing to shoot +me. _[He throws himself doggedly back into his chair]._ I'll never +give another penny to a Free Library. + +THE MAN. Youll never give another penny to anything. This is the +end: for you and me. + +TARLETON. Pooh! Come, come, man! talk business. Whats wrong? Are +you out of employment? + +THE MAN. No. This is my Saturday afternoon. Dont flatter yourself +that I'm a loafer or a criminal. I'm a cashier; and I defy you to say +that my cash has ever been a farthing wrong. Ive a right to call you +to account because my hands are clean. + +TARLETON. Well, call away. What have I to account for? Had you a +hard time with your mother? Why didnt she ask me for money? + +THE MAN. She'd have died first. Besides, who wanted your money? Do +you suppose we lived in the gutter? My father maynt have been in as +large a way as you; but he was better connected; and his shop was as +respectable as yours. + +TARLETON. I suppose your mother brought him a little capital. + +THE MAN. I dont know. Whats that got to do with you? + +TARLETON. Well, you say she and I knew one another and parted. She +must have had something off me then, you know. One doesnt get out of +these things for nothing. Hang it, young man: do you suppose Ive no +heart? Of course she had her due; and she found a husband with it, +and set him up in business with it, and brought you up respectably; so +what the devil have you to complain of? + +THE MAN. Are women to be ruined with impunity? + +TARLETON. I havnt ruined any woman that I'm aware of. Ive been the +making of you and your mother. + +THE MAN. Oh, I'm a fool to listen to you and argue with you. I came +here to kill you and then kill myself. + +TARLETON. Begin with yourself, if you dont mind. Ive a good deal of +business to do still before I die. Havnt you? + +THE MAN. No. Thats just it: Ive no business to do. Do you know +what my life is? I spend my days from nine to six--nine hours of +daylight and fresh air--in a stuffy little den counting another man's +money. Ive an intellect: a mind and a brain and a soul; and the use +he makes of them is to fix them on his tuppences and his +eighteenpences and his two pound seventeen and tenpences and see how +much they come to at the end of the day and take care that no one +steals them. I enter and enter, and add and add, and take money and +give change, and fill cheques and stamp receipts; and not a penny of +that money is my own: not one of those transactions has the smallest +interest for me or anyone else in the world but him; and even he +couldnt stand it if he had to do it all himself. And I'm envied: +aye, envied for the variety and liveliness of my job, by the poor +devil of a bookkeeper that has to copy all my entries over again. +Fifty thousand entries a year that poor wretch makes; and not ten out +of the fifty thousand ever has to be referred to again; and when all +the figures are counted up and the balance sheet made out, the boss +isnt a penny the richer than he'd be if bookkeeping had never been +invented. Of all the damnable waste of human life that ever was +invented, clerking is the very worst. + +TARLETON. Why not join the territorials? + +THE MAN. Because I shouldnt be let. He hasnt even the sense to see +that it would pay him to get some cheap soldiering out of me. How can +a man tied to a desk from nine to six be anything--be even a man, let +alone a soldier? But I'll teach him and you a lesson. Ive had enough +of living a dog's life and despising myself for it. Ive had enough of +being talked down to by hogs like you, and wearing my life out for a +salary that wouldnt keep you in cigars. Youll never believe that a +clerk's a man until one of us makes an example of one of you. + +TARLETON. Despotism tempered by assassination, eh? + +THE MAN. Yes. Thats what they do in Russia. Well, a business office +is Russia as far as the clerks are concerned. So dont you take it so +coolly. You think I'm not going to do it; but I am. + +TARLETON. _[rising and facing him]_ Come, now, as man to man! It's +not my fault that youre poorer than I am; and it's not your fault that +I'm richer than you. And if you could undo all that passed between me +and your mother, you wouldnt undo it; and neither would she. But +youre sick of your slavery; and you want to be the hero of a romance +and to get into the papers. Eh? A son revenges his mother's shame. +Villain weltering in his gore. Mother: look down from heaven and +receive your unhappy son's last sigh. + +THE MAN. Oh, rot! do you think I read novelettes? And do you suppose +I believe such superstitions as heaven? I go to church because the +boss told me I'd get the sack if I didnt. Free England! Ha! _[Lina +appears at the pavilion door, and comes swiftly and noiselessly +forward on seeing the man with a pistol in his hand]._ + +TARLETON. Youre afraid of getting the sack; but youre not afraid to +shoot yourself. + +THE MAN. Damn you! youre trying to keep me talking until somebody +comes. _[He raises the pistol desperately, but not very resolutely]._ + +LINA. _[at his right elbow]_ Somebody has come. + +THE MAN _[turning on her]_ Stand off. I'll shoot you if you lay a +hand on me. I will, by God. + +LINA. You cant cover me with that pistol. Try. + +_He tries, presenting the pistol at her face. She moves round him in +the opposite direction to the hands of a clock with a light dancing +step. He finds it impossible to cover her with the pistol: she is +always too far to his left. Tarleton, behind him, grips his wrist and +drags his arm straight up, so that the pistol points to the ceiling. +As he tries to turn on his assailant, Lina grips his other wrist._ + +LINA. Please stop. I cant bear to twist anyone's wrist; but I must +if you dont let the pistol go. + +THE MAN. _[letting Tarleton take it from him]_ All right: I'm done. +Couldnt even do that job decently. Thats a clerk all over. Very +well: send for your damned police and make an end of it. I'm +accustomed to prison from nine to six: I daresay I can stand it from +six to nine as well. + +TARLETON. Dont swear. Thats a lady. _[He throws the pistol on the +writing table]._ + +THE MAN. _[looking at Lina in amazement]_ Beaten by a female! It +needed only this. _[He collapses in the chair near the worktable, and +hides his face. They cannot help pitying him]._ + +LINA. Old pal: dont call the police. Lend him a bicycle and let him +get away. + +THE MAN. I cant ride a bicycle. I never could afford one. I'm not +even that much good. + +TARLETON. If I gave you a hundred pound note now to go and have a +good spree with, I wonder would you know how to set about it. Do you +ever take a holiday? + +THE MAN. Take! I got four days last August. + +TARLETON. What did you do? + +THE MAN. I did a cheap trip to Folkestone. I spent sevenpence on +dropping pennies into silly automatic machines and peepshows of rowdy +girls having a jolly time. I spent a penny on the lift and fourpence +on refreshments. That cleaned me out. The rest of the time I was so +miserable that I was glad to get back to the office. Now you know. + +LINA. Come to the gymnasium: I'll teach you how to make a man of +yourself. _[The man is about to rise irresolutely, from the mere +habit of doing what he is told, when Tarleton stops him]._ + +TARLETON. Young man: dont. Youve tried to shoot me; but I'm not +vindictive. I draw the line at putting a man on the rack. If you +want every joint in your body stretched until it's an agony to +live--until you have an unnatural feeling that all your muscles are +singing and laughing with pain--then go to the gymnasium with that +lady. But youll be more comfortable in jail. + +LINA. _[greatly amused]_ Was that why you went away, old pal? Was +that the telegram you said you had forgotten to send? + +_Mrs Tarleton comes in hastily through the inner door._ + +MRS TARLETON. _[on the steps]_ Is anything the matter, John? Nurse +says she heard you calling me a quarter of an hour ago; and that your +voice sounded as if you were ill. _[She comes between Tarleton and +the man.]_ Is anything the matter? + +TARLETON. This is the son of an old friend of mine. Mr--er--Mr +Gunner. _[To the man, who rises awkwardly]._ My wife. + +MRS TARLETON. Good evening to you. + +GUNNER. Er-- _[He is too nervous to speak, and makes a shambling +bow]._ + +_Bentley looks in at the pavilion door, very peevish, and too +preoccupied with his own affairs to pay any attention to those of the +company._ + +BENTLEY. I say: has anybody seen Hypatia? She promised to come out +with me; and I cant find her anywhere. And wheres Joey? + +GUNNER. _[suddenly breaking out aggressively, being incapable of any +middle way between submissiveness and violence]_ _I_ can tell you +where Hypatia is. I can tell you where Joey is. And I say it's a +scandal and an infamy. If people only knew what goes on in this +so-called respectable house it would be put a stop to. These are the +morals of our pious capitalist class! This is your rotten +bourgeoisie! This!-- + +MRS TARLETON. Dont you dare use such language in company. I wont +allow it. + +TARLETON. All right, Chickabiddy: it's not bad language: it's only +Socialism. + +MRS TARLETON. Well, I wont have any Socialism in my house. + +TARLETON. _[to Gunner]_ You hear what Mrs Tarleton says. Well, in +this house everybody does what she says or out they go. + +GUNNER. Do you suppose I want to stay? Do you think I would breathe +this polluted atmosphere a moment longer than I could help? + +BENTLEY. _[running forward between Lina and Gunner]_ But what did +you mean by what you said about Miss Tarleton and Mr Percival, you +beastly rotter, you? + +GUNNER. _[to Tarleton]_ Oh! is Hypatia your daughter? And Joey is +Mister Percival, is he? One of your set, I suppose. One of the smart +set! One of the bridge-playing, eighty-horse-power, week-ender set! +One of the johnnies I slave for! Well, Joey has more decency than +your daughter, anyhow. The women are the worst. I never believed it +til I saw it with my own eyes. Well, it wont last for ever. The +writing is on the wall. Rome fell. Babylon fell. Hindhead's turn +will come. + +MRS TARLETON. _[naively looking at the wall for the writing]_ +Whatever are you talking about, young man? + +GUNNER. I know what I'm talking about. I went into that Turkish bath +a boy: I came out a man. + +MRS TARLETON. Good gracious! hes mad. _[To Lina]_ Did John make him +take a Turkish bath? + +LINA. No. He doesnt need Turkish baths: he needs to put on a little +flesh. I dont understand what it's all about. I found him trying to +shoot Mr Tarleton. + +MRS TARLETON. _[with a scream]_ Oh! and John encouraging him, I'll +be bound! Bunny: you go for the police. _[To Gunner]_ I'll teach +you to come into my house and shoot my husband. + +GUNNER. Teach away. I never asked to be let off. I'm ashamed to be +free instead of taking my part with the rest. Women--beautiful women +of noble birth--are going to prison for their opinions. Girl students +in Russia go to the gallows; let themselves be cut in pieces with the +knout, or driven through the frozen snows of Siberia, sooner than +stand looking on tamely at the world being made a hell for the toiling +millions. If you were not all skunks and cowards youd be suffering +with them instead of battening here on the plunder of the poor. + +MRS TARLETON. _[much vexed]_ Oh, did you ever hear such silly +nonsense? Bunny: go and tell the gardener to send over one of his +men to Grayshott for the police. + +GUNNER. I'll go with him. I intend to give myself up. I'm going to +expose what Ive seen here, no matter what the consequences may be to +my miserable self. + +TARLETON. Stop. You stay where you are, Ben. Chickabiddy: youve +never had the police in. If you had, youd not be in a hurry to have +them in again. Now, young man: cut the cackle; and tell us, as short +as you can, what did you see? + +GUNNER. I cant tell you in the presence of ladies. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, you are tiresome. As if it mattered to anyone what +you saw. Me! A married woman that might be your mother. _[To Lina]_ +And I'm sure youre not particular, if youll excuse my saying so. + +TARLETON. Out with it. What did you see? + +GUNNER. I saw your daughter with my own eyes--oh well, never mind +what I saw. + +BENTLEY. _[almost crying with anxiety]_ You beastly rotter, I'll get +Joey to give you such a hiding-- + +TARLETON. You cant leave it at that, you know. What did you see my +daughter doing? + +GUNNER. After all, why shouldnt she do it? The Russian students do +it. Women should be as free as men. I'm a fool. I'm so full of your +bourgeois morality that I let myself be shocked by the application of +my own revolutionary principles. If she likes the man why shouldnt +she tell him so? + +MRS TARLETON. I do wonder at you, John, letting him talk like this +before everybody. _[Turning rather tartly to Lina]_ Would you mind +going away to the drawing-room just for a few minutes, Miss +Chipenoska. This is a private family matter, if you dont mind. + +LINA. I should have gone before, Mrs Tarleton, if there had been +anyone to protect Mr Tarleton and the young gentleman. + +TARLETON. Youre quite right, Miss Lina: you must stand by. I could +have tackled him this morning; but since you put me through those +exercises I'd rather die than even shake hands with a man, much less +fight him. + +GUNNER. It's all of a piece here. The men effeminate, the women +unsexed-- + +TARLETON. Dont begin again, old chap. Keep it for Trafalgar Square. + +HYPATIA'S VOICE OUTSIDE. No, no. _[She breaks off in a stifled half +laugh, half scream, and is seen darting across the garden with +Percival in hot pursuit. Immediately afterwards she appears again, +and runs into the pavilion. Finding it full of people, including a +stranger, she stops; but Percival, flushed and reckless, rushes in and +seizes her before he, too, realizes that they are not alone. He +releases her in confusion]._ + +_Dead silence. They are all afraid to look at one another except Mrs +Tarleton, who stares sternly at Hypatia. Hypatia is the first to +recover her presence of mind._ + +HYPATIA. Excuse me rushing in like this. Mr Percival has been +chasing me down the hill. + +GUNNER. Who chased him up it? Dont be ashamed. Be fearless. Be +truthful. + +TARLETON. Gunner: will you go to Paris for a fortnight? I'll pay +your expenses. + +HYPATIA. What do you mean? + +GUNNER. There was a silent witness in the Turkish bath. + +TARLETON. I found him hiding there. Whatever went on here, he saw +and heard. Thats what he means. + +PERCIVAL. _[sternly approaching Gunner, and speaking with deep but +contained indignation]_ Am I to understand you as daring to put +forward the monstrous and blackguardly lie that this lady behaved +improperly in my presence? + +GUNNER. _[turning white]_ You know what I saw and heard. + +_Hypatia, with a gleam of triumph in her eyes, slips noiselessly into +the swing chair, and watches Percival and Gunner, swinging slightly, +but otherwise motionless._ + +PERCIVAL. I hope it is not necessary for me to assure you all that +there is not one word of truth--not one grain of substance--in this +rascally calumny, which no man with a spark of decent feeling would +have uttered even if he had been ignorant enough to believe it. Miss +Tarleton's conduct, since I have had the honor of knowing her, has +been, I need hardly say, in every respect beyond reproach. _[To +Gunner]_ As for you, sir, youll have the goodness to come out with me +immediately. I have some business with you which cant be settled in +Mrs Tarleton's presence or in her house. + +GUNNER. _[painfully frightened]_ Why should I go out with you? + +PERCIVAL. Because I intend that you shall. + +GUNNER. I wont be bullied by you. _[Percival makes a threatening +step towards him]._ Police! _[He tries to bolt; but Percival seizes +him]._ Leave me go, will you? What right have you to lay hands on +me? + +TARLETON. Let him run for it, Mr Percival. Hes very poor company. +We shall be well rid of him. Let him go. + +PERCIVAL. Not until he has taken back and made the fullest apology +for the abominable lie he has told. He shall do that or he shall +defend himself as best he can against the most thorough thrashing I'm +capable of giving him. _[Releasing Gunner, but facing him ominously]_ +Take your choice. Which is it to be? + +GUNNER. Give me a fair chance. Go and stick at a desk from nine to +six for a month, and let me have your grub and your sport and your +lessons in boxing, and I'll fight you fast enough. You know I'm no +good or you darent bully me like this. + +PERCIVAL. You should have thought of that before you attacked a lady +with a dastardly slander. I'm waiting for your decision. I'm rather +in a hurry, please. + +GUNNER. I never said anything against the lady. + +MRS TARLETON. | Oh, listen to that! + | +BENTLEY. | What a liar! + | +HYPATIA. | Oh! + | +TARLETON. | Oh, come! + +PERCIVAL. We'll have it in writing, if you dont mind. _[Pointing to +the writing table]_ Sit down; and take that pen in your hand. +_[Gunner looks irresolutely a little way round; then obeys]._ Now +write. "I," whatever your name is-- + +GUNNER _[after a vain attempt]_ I cant. My hand's shaking too much. +You see it's no use. I'm doing my best. I cant. + +PERCIVAL. Mr Summerhays will write it: you can sign it. + +BENTLEY. _[insolently to Gunner]_ Get up. _[Gunner obeys; and +Bentley, shouldering him aside towards Percival, takes his place and +prepares to write]._ + +PERCIVAL. Whats your name? + +GUNNER. John Brown. + +TARLETON. Oh come! Couldnt you make it Horace Smith? or Algernon +Robinson? + +GUNNER. _[agitatedly]_ But my name is John Brown. There are really +John Browns. How can I help it if my name's a common one? + +BENTLEY. Shew us a letter addressed to you. + +GUNNER. How can I? I never get any letters: I'm only a clerk. I +can shew you J. B. on my handkerchief. _[He takes out a not very +clean one]._ + +BENTLEY. _[with disgust]_ Oh, put it up again. Let it go at John +Brown. + +PERCIVAL. Where do you live? + +GUNNER. 4 Chesterfield Parade, Kentish Town, N.W. + +PERCIVAL. _[dictating]_ I, John Brown, of 4 Chesterfield Parade, +Kentish Town, do hereby voluntarily confess that on the 31st May 1909 +I-- _[To Tarleton]_ What did he do exactly? + +TARLETON. _[dictating]_ --I trespassed on the land of John Tarleton +at Hindhead, and effected an unlawful entry into his house, where I +secreted myself in a portable Turkish bath-- + +BENTLEY. Go slow, old man. Just a moment. "Turkish bath"--yes? + +TARLETON. _[continuing]_ --with a pistol, with which I threatened to +take the life of the said John Tarleton-- + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, John! You might have been killed. + +TARLETON. --and was prevented from doing so only by the timely +arrival of the celebrated Miss Lina Szczepanowska. + +MRS TARLETON. Is she celebrated? _[Apologetically]_ I never +dreamt-- + +BENTLEY. Look here: I'm awfully sorry; but I cant spell +Szczepanowska. + +PERCIVAL. I think it's S, z, c, z-- _[Lina gives him her +visiting-card]._ Thank you. _[He throws it on Bentley's blotter]._ + +BENTLEY. Thanks awfully. _[He writes the name]._ + +TARLETON. _[to Percival]_ Now it's your turn. + +PERCIVAL. _[dictating]_ I further confess that I was guilty of +uttering an abominable calumny concerning Miss Hypatia Tarleton, for +which there was not a shred of foundation. + +_Impressive silence whilst Bentley writes._ + +BENTLEY. "foundation"? + +PERCIVAL. I apologize most humbly to the lady and her family for my +conduct-- _[he waits for Bentley to write]._ + +BENTLEY. "conduct"? + +PERCIVAL. --and I promise Mr Tarleton not to repeat it, and to amend +my life-- + +BENTLEY. "amend my life"? + +PERCIVAL. --and to do what in me lies to prove worthy of his kindness +in giving me another chance-- + +BENTLEY. "another chance"? + +PERCIVAL. --and refraining from delivering me up to the punishment I +so richly deserve. + +BENTLEY. "richly deserve." + +PERCIVAL. _[to Hypatia]_ Does that satisfy you, Miss Tarleton? + +HYPATIA. Yes: that will teach him to tell lies next time. + +BENTLEY. _[rising to make place for Gunner and handing him the pen]_ +You mean it will teach him to tell the truth next time. + +TARLETON. Ahem! Do you, Patsy? + +PERCIVAL. Be good enough to sign. _[Gunner sits down helplessly and +dips the pen in the ink]._ I hope what you are signing is no mere +form of words to you, and that you not only say you are sorry, but +that you are sorry. + +_Lord Summerhays and Johnny come in through the pavilion door._ + +MRS TARLETON. Stop. Mr Percival: I think, on Hypatia's account, +Lord Summerhays ought to be told about this. + +_Lord Summerhays, wondering what the matter is, comes forward between +Percival and Lina. Johnny stops beside Hypatia._ + +PERCIVAL. Certainly. + +TARLETON. _[uneasily]_ Take my advice, and cut it short. Get rid of +him. + +MRS TARLETON. Hypatia ought to have her character cleared. + +TARLETON. You let well alone, Chickabiddy. Most of our characters +will bear a little careful dusting; but they wont bear scouring. +Patsy is jolly well out of it. What does it matter, anyhow? + +PERCIVAL. Mr Tarleton: we have already said either too much or not +enough. Lord Summerhays: will you be kind enough to witness the +declaration this man has just signed? + +GUNNER. I havnt yet. Am I to sign now? + +PERCIVAL. Of course. _[Gunner, who is now incapable of doing +anything on his own initiative, signs]._ Now stand up and read your +declaration to this gentleman. _[Gunner makes a vague movement and +looks stupidly round. Percival adds peremptorily]_ Now, please. + +GUNNER _[rising apprehensively and reading in a hardly audible voice, +like a very sick man]_ I, John Brown, of 4 Chesterfield Parade, +Kentish Town, do hereby voluntarily confess that on the 31st May 1909 +I trespassed on the land of John Tarleton at Hindhead, and effected an +unlawful entry into his house, where I secreted myself in a portable +Turkish bath, with a pistol, with which I threatened to take the life +of the said John Tarleton, and was prevented from doing so only by the +timely arrival of the celebrated Miss Lena Sh-Sh-sheepanossika. I +further confess that I was guilty of uttering an abominable calumny +concerning Miss Hypatia Tarleton, for which there was not a shred of +foundation. I apologize most humbly to the lady and her family for my +conduct; and I promise Mr Tarleton not to repeat it, and to amend my +life, and to do what in me lies to prove worthy of his kindness in +giving me another chance and refraining from delivering me up to the +punishment I so richly deserve. + +_A short and painful silence follows. Then Percival speaks._ + +PERCIVAL. Do you consider that sufficient, Lord Summerhays? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Oh quite, quite. + +PERCIVAL. _[to Hypatia]_ Lord Summerhays would probably like to hear +you say that you are satisfied, Miss Tarleton. + +HYPATIA. _[coming out of the swing, and advancing between Percival +and Lord Summerhays]_ I must say that you have behaved like a perfect +gentleman, Mr. Percival. + +PERCIVAL. _[first bowing to Hypatia, and then turning with cold +contempt to Gunner, who is standing helpless]_ We need not trouble +you any further. _[Gunner turns vaguely towards the pavilion]._ + +JOHNNY _[with less refined offensiveness, pointing to the pavilion]_ +Thats your way. The gardener will shew you the shortest way into the +road. Go the shortest way. + +GUNNER. _[oppressed and disconcerted, hardly knows how to get out of +the room]_ Yes, sir. I-- _[He turns again, appealing to Tarleton]_ +Maynt I have my mother's photographs back again? _[Mrs Tarleton +pricks up her ears]._ + +TARLETON. Eh? What? Oh, the photographs! Yes, yes, yes: take +them. _[Gunner takes them from the table, and is creeping away, when +Mrs Tarleton puts out her hand and stops him]._ + +MRS TARLETON. Whats this, John? What were you doing with his +mother's photographs? + +TARLETON. Nothing, nothing. Never mind, Chickabiddy: it's all +right. + +MRS TARLETON. _[snatching the photographs from Gunner's irresolute +fingers, and recognizing them at a glance]_ Lucy Titmus! Oh John, +John! + +TARLETON. _[grimly, to Gunner]_ Young man: youre a fool; but youve +just put the lid on this job in a masterly manner. I knew you would. +I told you all to let well alone. You wouldnt; and now you must take +the consequences--or rather _I_ must take them. + +MRS TARLETON. _[to Gunner]_ Are you Lucy's son? + +GUNNER. Yes. + +MRS TARLETON. And why didnt you come to me? I didnt turn my back on +your mother when she came to me in her trouble. Didnt you know that? + +GUNNER. No. She never talked to me about anything. + +TARLETON. How could she talk to her own son? Shy, Summerhays, shy. +Parent and child. Shy. _[He sits down at the end of the writing +table nearest the sideboard like a man resigned to anything that fate +may have in store for him]._ + +MRS TARLETON. Then how did you find out? + +GUNNER. From her papers after she died. + +MRS TARLETON. _[shocked]_ Is Lucy dead? And I never knew! _[With +an effusion of tenderness]_ And you here being treated like that, +poor orphan, with nobody to take your part! Tear up that foolish +paper, child; and sit down and make friends with me. + +JOHNNY. | Hallo, mother this is all very well, you know-- + | +PERCIVAL. | But may I point out, Mrs Tarleton, that-- + | +BENTLEY. | Do you mean that after what he said of-- + | +HYPATIA. | Oh, look here, mamma: this is really-- + +MRS TARLETON. Will you please speak one at a time? + +_Silence._ + +PERCIVAL _[in a very gentlemanly manner]_ Will you allow me to remind +you, Mrs Tarleton, that this man has uttered a most serious and +disgraceful falsehood concerning Miss Tarleton and myself? + +MRS TARLETON. I dont believe a word of it. If the poor lad was there +in the Turkish bath, who has a better right to say what was going on +here than he has? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Patsy; and so +ought you too, Mr Percival, for encouraging her. _[Hypatia retreats +to the pavilion, and exchanges grimaces with Johnny, shamelessly +enjoying Percival's sudden reverse. They know their mother]._ + +PERCIVAL. _[gasping]_ Mrs Tarleton: I give you my word of honor-- + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, go along with you and your word of honor. Do you +think I'm a fool? I wonder you can look the lad in the face after +bullying him and making him sign those wicked lies; and all the time +you carrying on with my daughter before youd been half an hour in my +house. Fie, for shame! + +PERCIVAL. Lord Summerhays: I appeal to you. Have I done the correct +thing or not? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Youve done your best, Mr Percival. But the correct +thing depends for its success on everybody playing the game very +strictly. As a single-handed game, it's impossible. + +BENTLEY. _[suddenly breaking out lamentably]_ Joey: have you taken +Hypatia away from me? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[severely]_ Bentley! Bentley! Control yourself, +sir. + +TARLETON. Come, Mr Percival! the shutters are up on the gentlemanly +business. Try the truth. + +PERCIVAL. I am in a wretched position. If I tell the truth nobody +will believe me. + +TARLETON. Oh yes they will. The truth makes everybody believe it. + +PERCIVAL. It also makes everybody pretend not to believe it. Mrs +Tarleton: youre not playing the game. + +MRS TARLETON. I dont think youve behaved at all nicely, Mr Percival. + +BENTLEY. I wouldnt have played you such a dirty trick, Joey. +_[Struggling with a sob]_ You beast. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Bentley: you must control yourself. Let me say at +the same time, Mr Percival, that my son seems to have been mistaken in +regarding you either as his friend or as a gentleman. + +PERCIVAL. Miss Tarleton: I'm suffering this for your sake. I ask +you just to say that I am not to blame. Just that and nothing more. + +HYPATIA. _[gloating mischievously over his distress]_ You chased me +through the heather and kissed me. You shouldnt have done that if you +were not in earnest. + +PERCIVAL. Oh, this is really the limit. _[Turning desperately to +Gunner]_ Sir: I appeal to you. As a gentleman! as a man of honor! +as a man bound to stand by another man! You were in that Turkish +bath. You saw how it began. Could any man have behaved more +correctly than I did? Is there a shadow of foundation for the +accusations brought against me? + +GUNNER. _[sorely perplexed]_ Well, what do you want me to say? + +JOHNNY. He has said what he had to say already, hasnt he? Read that +paper. + +GUNNER. When I tell the truth, you make me go back on it. And now +you want me to go back on myself! What is a man to do? + +PERCIVAL. _[patiently]_ Please try to get your mind clear, Mr Brown. +I pointed out to you that you could not, as a gentleman, disparage a +lady's character. You agree with me, I hope. + +GUNNER. Yes: that sounds all right. + +PERCIVAL. But youre also bound to tell the truth. Surely youll not +deny that. + +GUNNER. Who's denying it? I say nothing against it. + +PERCIVAL. Of course not. Well, I ask you to tell the truth simply +and unaffectedly. Did you witness any improper conduct on my part +when you were in the bath? + +GUNNER. No, sir. + +JOHNNY. | Then what do you mean by saying that-- + | +HYPATIA. | Do you mean to say that I-- + | +BENTLEY. | Oh, you are a rotter. Youre afraid-- + +TARLETON. _[rising]_ Stop. _[Silence]._ Leave it at that. Enough +said. You keep quiet, Johnny. Mr Percival: youre whitewashed. So +are you, Patsy. Honors are easy. Lets drop the subject. The next +thing to do is to open a subscription to start this young man on a +ranch in some far country thats accustomed to be in a disturbed state. +He-- + +MRS TARLETON. Now stop joking the poor lad, John: I wont have it. +Has been worried to death between you all. _[To Gunner]_ Have you +had your tea? + +GUNNER. Tea? No: it's too early. I'm all right; only I had no +dinner: I didnt think I'd want it. I didnt think I'd be alive. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, what a thing to say! You mustnt talk like that. + +JOHNNY. Hes out of his mind. He thinks it's past dinner-time. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, youve no sense, Johnny. He calls his lunch his +dinner, and has his tea at half-past six. Havnt you, dear? + +GUNNER. _[timidly]_ Hasnt everybody? + +JOHNNY. _[laughing]_ Well, by George, thats not bad. + +MRS TARLETON. Now dont be rude, Johnny: you know I dont like it. +_[To Gunner]_ A cup of tea will pick you up. + +GUNNER. I'd rather not. I'm all right. + +TARLETON. _[going to the sideboard]_ Here! try a mouthful of sloe +gin. + +GUNNER. No, thanks. I'm a teetotaler. I cant touch alcohol in any +form. + +TARLETON. Nonsense! This isnt alcohol. Sloe gin. Vegetarian, you +know. + +GUNNER. _[hesitating]_ Is it a fruit beverage? + +TARLETON. Of course it is. Fruit beverage. Here you are. _[He +gives him a glass of sloe gin]._ + +GUNNER. _[going to the sideboard]_ Thanks. _[he begins to drink it +confidently; but the first mouthful startles and almost chokes him]._ +It's rather hot. + +TARLETON. Do you good. Dont be afraid of it. + +MRS TARLETON. _[going to him]_ Sip it, dear. Dont be in a hurry. + +_Gunner sips slowly, each sip making his eyes water._ + +JOHNNY. _[coming forward into the place left vacant by Gunner's visit +to the sideboard]_ Well, now that the gentleman has been attended to, +I should like to know where we are. It may be a vulgar business +habit; but I confess I like to know where I am. + +TARLETON. I dont. Wherever you are, youre there anyhow. I tell you +again, leave it at that. + +BENTLEY. I want to know too. Hypatia's engaged to me. + +HYPATIA. Bentley: if you insult me again--if you say another word, +I'll leave the house and not enter it until you leave it. + +JOHNNY. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, my boy. + +BENTLEY. _[inarticulate with fury and suppressed tears]_ Oh! +Beasts! Brutes! + +MRS TARLETON. Now dont hurt his feelings, poor little lamb! + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[very sternly]_ Bentley: you are not behaving +well. You had better leave us until you have recovered yourself. + +_Bentley goes out in disgrace, but gets no further than half way to +the pavilion door, when, with a wild sob, he throws himself on the +floor and begins to yell._ + +MRS TARLETON. | _[running to him]_ Oh, poor child, + | poor child! Dont cry, duckie: + | he didnt mean it: dont cry. + | +LORD SUMMERHAYS| Stop that infernal noise, sir: do you + | hear? Stop it instantly. + | +JOHNNY. | Thats the game he tried on me. + | There you are! Now, mother! + | Now, Patsy! You see for yourselves. + | +HYPATIA. | _[covering her ears]_ Oh you little + | wretch! Stop him, Mr Percival. Kick him. + | +TARLETON. | Steady on, steady on. Easy, Bunny, easy. + +LINA. Leave him to me, Mrs Tarleton. Stand clear, please. + +_She kneels opposite Bentley; quickly lifts the upper half of him from +the ground; dives under him; rises with his body hanging across her +shoulders; and runs out with him._ + +BENTLEY. _[in scared, sobered, humble tones as he is borne off]_ +What are you doing? Let me down. Please, Miss Szczepanowska-- +_[they pass out of hearing]._ + +_An awestruck silence falls on the company as they speculate on +Bentley's fate._ + +JOHNNY. I wonder what shes going to do with him. + +HYPATIA. Spank him, I hope. Spank him hard. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I hope so. I hope so. Tarleton: I'm beyond +measure humiliated and annoyed by my son's behavior in your house. I +had better take him home. + +TARLETON. Not at all: not at all. Now, Chickabiddy: as Miss Lina +has taken away Ben, suppose you take away Mr Brown for a while. + +GUNNER. _[with unexpected aggressiveness]_ My name isnt Brown. +_[They stare at him: he meets their stare defiantly, pugnacious with +sloe gin; drains the last drop from his glass; throws it on the +sideboard; and advances to the writing table]._ My name's Baker: +Julius Baker. Mister Baker. If any man doubts it, I'm ready for him. + +MRS TARLETON. John: you shouldnt have given him that sloe gin. It's +gone to his head. + +GUNNER. Dont you think it. Fruit beverages dont go to the head; and +what matter if they did? I say nothing to you, maam: I regard you +with respect and affection. _[Lachrymosely]_ You were very good to +my mother: my poor mother! _[Relapsing into his daring mood]_ But I +say my name's Baker; and I'm not to be treated as a child or made a +slave of by any man. Baker is my name. Did you think I was going to +give you my real name? Not likely. Not me. + +TARLETON. So you thought of John Brown. That was clever of you. + +GUNNER. Clever! Yes: we're not all such fools as you think: we +clerks. It was the bookkeeper put me up to that. It's the only name +that nobody gives as a false name, he said. Clever, eh? I should +think so. + +MRS TARLETON. Come now, Julius-- + +GUNNER. _[reassuring her gravely]_ Dont you be alarmed, maam. I +know what is due to you as a lady and to myself as a gentleman. I +regard you with respect and affection. If you had been my mother, as +you ought to have been, I should have had more chance. But you shall +have no cause to be ashamed of me. The strength of a chain is no +greater than its weakest link; but the greatness of a poet is the +greatness of his greatest moment. Shakespear used to get drunk. +Frederick the Great ran away from a battle. But it was what they +could rise to, not what they could sink to, that made them great. +They werent good always; but they were good on their day. Well, on my +day--on my day, mind you--I'm good for something too. I know that Ive +made a silly exhibition of myself here. I know I didnt rise to the +occasion. I know that if youd been my mother, youd have been ashamed +of me. I lost my presence of mind: I was a contemptible coward. But +_[slapping himself on the chest]_ I'm not the man I was then. This +is my day. Ive seen the tenth possessor of a foolish face carried out +kicking and screaming by a woman. _[To Percival]_ You crowed pretty +big over me. You hypnotized me. But when you were put through the +fire yourself, you were found wanting. I tell you straight I dont +give a damn for you. + +MRS TARLETON. No: thats naughty. You shouldnt say that before me. + +GUNNER. I would cut my tongue out sooner than say anything vulgar in +your presence; for I regard you with respect and affection. I was not +swearing. I was affirming my manhood. + +MRS TARLETON. What an idea! What puts all these things into your +head? + +GUNNER. Oh, dont you think, because I'm a clerk, that I'm not one of +the intellectuals. I'm a reading man, a thinking man. I read in a +book--a high class six shilling book--this precept: Affirm your +manhood. It appealed to me. Ive always remembered it. I believe in +it. I feel I must do it to recover your respect after my cowardly +behavior. Therefore I affirm it in your presence. I tell that man +who insulted me that I dont give a damn for him. And neither I do. + +TARLETON. I say, Summerhays: did you have chaps of this sort in +Jinghiskahn? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Oh yes: they exist everywhere: they are a most +serious modern problem. + +GUNNER. Yes. Youre right. _[Conceitedly]_ I'm a problem. And I +tell you that when we clerks realize that we're problems! well, look +out: thats all. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[suavely, to Gunner]_ You read a great deal, you +say? + +GUNNER. Ive read more than any man in this room, if the truth were +known, I expect. Thats whats going to smash up your Capitalism. The +problems are beginning to read. Ha! We're free to do that here in +England. What would you do with me in Jinghiskahn if you had me +there? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Well, since you ask me so directly, I'll tell you. +I should take advantage of the fact that you have neither sense enough +nor strength enough to know how to behave yourself in a difficulty of +any sort. I should warn an intelligent and ambitious policeman that +you are a troublesome person. The intelligent and ambitious policeman +would take an early opportunity of upsetting your temper by ordering +you to move on, and treading on your heels until you were provoked +into obstructing an officer in the discharge of his duty. Any trifle +of that sort would be sufficient to make a man like you lose your +self-possession and put yourself in the wrong. You would then be +charged and imprisoned until things quieted down. + +GUNNER. And you call that justice! + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. No. Justice was not my business. I had to govern a +province; and I took the necessary steps to maintain order in it. Men +are not governed by justice, but by law or persuasion. When they +refuse to be governed by law or persuasion, they have to be governed +by force or fraud, or both. I used both when law and persuasion +failed me. Every ruler of men since the world began has done so, even +when he has hated both fraud and force as heartily as I do. It is as +well that you should know this, my young friend; so that you may +recognize in time that anarchism is a game at which the police can +beat you. What have you to say to that? + +GUNNER. What have I to say to it! Well, I call it scandalous: thats +what I have to say to it. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Precisely: thats all anybody has to say to it, +except the British public, which pretends not to believe it. And now +let me ask you a sympathetic personal question. Havnt you a headache? + +GUNNER. Well, since you ask me, I have. Ive overexcited myself. + +MRS TARLETON. Poor lad! No wonder, after all youve gone through! +You want to eat a little and to lie down. You come with me. I want +you to tell me about your poor dear mother and about yourself. Come +along with me. _[She leads the way to the inner door]._ + +GUNNER. _[following her obediently]_ Thank you kindly, madam. _[She +goes out. Before passing out after her, he partly closes the door and +stops an the landing for a moment to say]_ Mind: I'm not knuckling +down to any man here. I knuckle down to Mrs Tarleton because shes a +woman in a thousand. I affirm my manhood all the same. Understand: +I dont give a damn for the lot of you. _[He hurries out, rather +afraid of the consequences of this defiance, which has provoked Johnny +to an impatient movement towards him]._ + +HYPATIA. Thank goodness hes gone! Oh, what a bore! WHAT a bore!!! +Talk, talk, talk! + +TARLETON. Patsy: it's no good. We're going to talk. And we're +going to talk about you. + +JOHNNY. It's no use shirking it, Pat. We'd better know where we are. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Come, Miss Tarleton. Wont you sit down? I'm very +tired of standing. _[Hypatia comes from the pavilion and takes a +chair at the worktable. Lord Summerhays takes the opposite chair, on +her right. Percival takes the chair Johnny placed for Lina on her +arrival. Tarleton sits down at the end of the writing table. Johnny +remains standing. Lord Summerhays continues, with a sigh of relief at +being seated.]_ We shall now get the change of subject we are all +pining for. + +JOHNNY. _[puzzled]_ Whats that? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. The great question. The question that men and women +will spend hours over without complaining. The question that occupies +all the novel readers and all the playgoers. The question they never +get tired of. + +JOHNNY. But what question? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. The question which particular young man some young +woman will mate with. + +PERCIVAL. As if it mattered! + +HYPATIA. _[sharply]_ Whats that you said? + +PERCIVAL. I said: As if it mattered. + +HYPATIA. I call that ungentlemanly. + +PERCIVAL. Do you care about that? you who are so magnificently +unladylike! + +JOHNNY. Look here, Mr Percival: youre not supposed to insult my +sister. + +HYPATIA. Oh, shut up, Johnny. I can take care of myself. Dont you +interfere. + +JOHNNY. Oh, very well. If you choose to give yourself away like +that--to allow a man to call you unladylike and then to be unladylike, +Ive nothing more to say. + +HYPATIA. I think Mr Percival is most ungentlemanly; but I wont be +protected. I'll not have my affairs interfered with by men on +pretence of protecting me. I'm not your baby. If I interfered +between you and a woman, you would soon tell me to mind my own +business. + +TARLETON. Children: dont squabble. Read Dr Watts. Behave +yourselves. + +JOHNNY. Ive nothing more to say; and as I dont seem to be wanted +here, I shall take myself off. _[He goes out with affected calm +through the pavilion]._ + +TARLETON. Summerhays: a family is an awful thing, an impossible +thing. Cat and dog. Patsy: I'm ashamed of you. + +HYPATIA. I'll make it up with Johnny afterwards; but I really cant +have him here sticking his clumsy hoof into my affairs. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. The question is, Mr Percival, are you really a +gentleman, or are you not? + +PERCIVAL. Was Napoleon really a gentleman or was he not? He made the +lady get out of the way of the porter and said, "Respect the burden, +madam." That was behaving like a very fine gentleman; but he kicked +Volney for saying that what France wanted was the Bourbons back again. +That was behaving rather like a navvy. Now I, like Napoleon, am not +all one piece. On occasion, as you have all seen, I can behave like a +gentleman. On occasion, I can behave with a brutal simplicity which +Miss Tarleton herself could hardly surpass. + +TARLETON. Gentleman or no gentleman, Patsy: what are your +intentions? + +HYPATIA. My intentions! Surely it's the gentleman who should be +asked his intentions. + +TARLETON. Come now, Patsy! none of that nonsense. Has Mr Percival +said anything to you that I ought to know or that Bentley ought to +know? Have you said anything to Mr Percival? + +HYPATIA. Mr Percival chased me through the heather and kissed me. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. As a gentleman, Mr Percival, what do you say to +that? + +PERCIVAL. As a gentleman, I do not kiss and tell. As a mere man: a +mere cad, if you like, I say that I did so at Miss Tarleton's own +suggestion. + +HYPATIA. Beast! + +PERCIVAL. I dont deny that I enjoyed it. But I did not initiate it. +And I began by running away. + +TARLETON. So Patsy can run faster than you, can she? + +PERCIVAL. Yes, when she is in pursuit of me. She runs faster and +faster. I run slower and slower. And these woods of yours are full +of magic. There was a confounded fern owl. Did you ever hear the +churr of a fern owl? Did you ever hear it create a sudden silence by +ceasing? Did you ever hear it call its mate by striking its wings +together twice and whistling that single note that no nightingale can +imitate? That is what happened in the woods when I was running away. +So I turned; and the pursuer became the pursued. + +HYPATIA. I had to fight like a wild cat. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Please dont tell us this. It's not fit for old +people to hear. + +TARLETON. Come: how did it end? + +HYPATIA. It's not ended yet. + +TARLETON. How is it going to end? + +HYPATIA. Ask him. + +TARLETON. How is it going to end, Mr Percival? + +PERCIVAL. I cant afford to marry, Mr Tarleton. Ive only a thousand a +year until my father dies. Two people cant possibly live on that. + +TARLETON. Oh, cant they? When _I_ married, I should have been jolly +glad to have felt sure of the quarter of it. + +PERCIVAL. No doubt; but I am not a cheap person, Mr Tarleton. I was +brought up in a household which cost at least seven or eight times +that; and I am in constant money difficulties because I simply dont +know how to live on the thousand a year scale. As to ask a woman to +share my degrading poverty, it's out of the question. Besides, I'm +rather young to marry. I'm only 28. + +HYPATIA. Papa: buy the brute for me. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[shrinking]_ My dear Miss Tarleton: dont be so +naughty. I know how delightful it is to shock an old man; but there +is a point at which it becomes barbarous. Dont. Please dont. + +HYPATIA. Shall I tell Papa about you? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Tarleton: I had better tell you that I once asked +your daughter to become my widow. + +TARLETON. _[to Hypatia]_ Why didnt you accept him, you young idiot? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I was too old. + +TARLETON. All this has been going on under my nose, I suppose. You +run after young men; and old men run after you. And I'm the last +person in the world to hear of it. + +HYPATIA. How could I tell you? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Parents and children, Tarleton. + +TARLETON. Oh, the gulf that lies between them! the impassable, +eternal gulf! And so I'm to buy the brute for you, eh? + +HYPATIA. If you please, papa. + +TARLETON. Whats the price, Mr Percival? + +PERCIVAL. We might do with another fifteen hundred if my father would +contribute. But I should like more. + +TARLETON. It's purely a question of money with you, is it? + +PERCIVAL. _[after a moment's consideration]_ Practically yes: it +turns on that. + +TARLETON. I thought you might have some sort of preference for Patsy, +you know. + +PERCIVAL. Well, but does that matter, do you think? Patsy fascinates +me, no doubt. I apparently fascinate Patsy. But, believe me, all +that is not worth considering. One of my three fathers (the priest) +has married hundreds of couples: couples selected by one another, +couples selected by the parents, couples forced to marry one another +by circumstances of one kind or another; and he assures me that if +marriages were made by putting all the men's names into one sack and +the women's names into another, and having them taken out by a +blindfolded child like lottery numbers, there would be just as high a +percentage of happy marriages as we have here in England. He said +Cupid was nothing but the blindfolded child: pretty idea that, I +think! I shall have as good a chance with Patsy as with anyone else. +Mind: I'm not bigoted about it. I'm not a doctrinaire: not the +slave of a theory. You and Lord Summerhays are experienced married +men. If you can tell me of any trustworthy method of selecting a +wife, I shall be happy to make use of it. I await your suggestions. +_[He looks with polite attention to Lord Summerhays, who, having +nothing to say, avoids his eye. He looks to Tarleton, who purses his +lips glumly and rattles his money in his pockets without a word]._ +Apparently neither of you has anything to suggest. Then Patsy will do +as well as another, provided the money is forthcoming. + +HYPATIA. Oh, you beauty, you beauty! + +TARLETON. When I married Patsy's mother, I was in love with her. + +PERCIVAL. For the first time? + +TARLETON. Yes: for the first time. + +PERCIVAL. For the last time? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[revolted]_ Sir: you are in the presence of his +daughter. + +HYPATIA. Oh, dont mind me. I dont care. I'm accustomed to Papa's +adventures. + +TARLETON. _[blushing painfully]_ Patsy, my child: that was not--not +delicate. + +HYPATIA. Well, papa, youve never shewn any delicacy in talking to me +about my conduct; and I really dont see why I shouldnt talk to you +about yours. It's such nonsense! Do you think young people dont +know? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. I'm sure they dont feel. Tarleton: this is too +horrible, too brutal. If neither of these young people have +any--any--any-- + +PERCIVAL. Shall we say paternal sentimentality? I'm extremely sorry +to shock you; but you must remember that Ive been educated to discuss +human affairs with three fathers simultaneously. I'm an adult person. +Patsy is an adult person. You do not inspire me with veneration. +Apparently you do not inspire Patsy with veneration. That may +surprise you. It may pain you. I'm sorry. It cant be helped. What +about the money? + +TARLETON. You dont inspire me with generosity, young man. + +HYPATIA. _[laughing with genuine amusement]_ He had you there, Joey. + +TARLETON. I havnt been a bad father to you, Patsy. + +HYPATIA. I dont say you have, dear. If only I could persuade you Ive +grown up, we should get along perfectly. + +TARLETON. Do you remember Bill Burt? + +HYPATIA. Why? + +TARLETON. _[to the others]_ Bill Burt was a laborer here. I was +going to sack him for kicking his father. He said his father had +kicked him until he was big enough to kick back. Patsy begged him +off. I asked that man what it felt like the first time he kicked his +father, and found that it was just like kicking any other man. He +laughed and said that it was the old man that knew what it felt like. +Think of that, Summerhays! think of that! + +HYPATIA. I havnt kicked you, papa. + +TARLETON. Youve kicked me harder than Bill Burt ever kicked. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. It's no use, Tarleton. Spare yourself. Do you +seriously expect these young people, at their age, to sympathize with +what this gentleman calls your paternal sentimentality? + +TARLETON. _[wistfully]_ Is it nothing to you but paternal +sentimentality, Patsy? + +HYPATIA. Well, I greatly prefer your superabundant vitality, papa. + +TARLETON. _[violently]_ Hold your tongue, you young devil. The +young are all alike: hard, coarse, shallow, cruel, selfish, +dirty-minded. You can clear out of my house as soon as you can coax +him to take you; and the sooner the better. _[To Percival]_ I think +you said your price was fifteen hundred a year. Take it. And I wish +you joy of your bargain. + +PERCIVAL. If you wish to know who I am-- + +TARLETON. I dont care a tinker's curse who you are or what you are. +Youre willing to take that girl off my hands for fifteen hundred a +year: thats all that concerns me. Tell her who you are if you like: +it's her affair, not mine. + +HYPATIA. Dont answer him, Joey: it wont last. Lord Summerhays, I'm +sorry about Bentley; but Joey's the only man for me. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. It may-- + +HYPATIA. Please dont say it may break your poor boy's heart. It's +much more likely to break yours. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Oh! + +TARLETON. _[springing to his feet]_ Leave the room. Do you hear: +leave the room. + +PERCIVAL. Arnt we getting a little cross? Dont be angry, Mr +Tarleton. Read Marcus Aurelius. + +TARLETON. Dont you dare make fun of me. Take your aeroplane out of +my vinery and yourself out of my house. + +PERCIVAL. _[rising, to Hypatia]_ I'm afraid I shall have to dine at +the Beacon, Patsy. + +HYPATIA. _[rising]_ Do. I dine with you. + +TARLETON. Did you hear me tell you to leave the room? + +HYPATIA. I did. _[To Percival]_ You see what living with one's +parents means, Joey. It means living in a house where you can be +ordered to leave the room. Ive got to obey: it's his house, not +mine. + +TARLETON. Who pays for it? Go and support yourself as I did if you +want to be independent. + +HYPATIA. I wanted to and you wouldnt let me. How can I support +myself when I'm a prisoner? + +TARLETON. Hold your tongue. + +HYPATIA. Keep your temper. + +PERCIVAL. _[coming between them]_ Lord Summerhays: youll join me, +I'm sure, in pointing out to both father and daughter that they have +now reached that very common stage in family life at which anything +but a blow would be an anti-climax. Do you seriously want to beat +Patsy, Mr Tarleton? + +TARLETON. Yes. I want to thrash the life out of her. If she doesnt +get out of my reach, I'll do it. _[He sits down and grasps the +writing table to restrain himself]._ + +HYPATIA. _[coolly going to him and leaning with her breast on his +writhing shoulders]_ Oh, if you want to beat me just to relieve your +feelings--just really and truly for the fun of it and the satisfaction +of it, beat away. I dont grudge you that. + +TARLETON. _[almost in hysterics]_ I used to think that this sort of +thing went on in other families but that it never could happen in +ours. And now-- _[He is broken with emotion, and continues +lamentably]_ I cant say the right thing. I cant do the right thing. +I dont know what is the right thing. I'm beaten; and she knows it. +Summerhays: tell me what to do. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. When my council in Jinghiskahn reached the point of +coming to blows, I used to adjourn the sitting. Let us postpone the +discussion. Wait until Monday: we shall have Sunday to quiet down +in. Believe me, I'm not making fun of you; but I think theres +something in this young gentleman's advice. Read something. + +TARLETON. I'll read King Lear. + +HYPATIA. Dont. I'm very sorry, dear. + +TARLETON. Youre not. Youre laughing at me. Serve me right! Parents +and children! No man should know his own child. No child should know +its own father. Let the family be rooted out of civilization! Let +the human race be brought up in institutions! + +HYPATIA. Oh yes. How jolly! You and I might be friends then; and +Joey could stay to dinner. + +TARLETON. Let him stay to dinner. Let him stay to breakfast. Let +him spend his life here. Dont you say I drove him out. Dont you say +I drove you out. + +PERCIVAL. I really have no right to inflict myself on you. Dropping +in as I did-- + +TARLETON. Out of the sky. Ha! Dropping in. The new sport of +aviation. You just see a nice house; drop in; scoop up the man's +daughter; and off with you again. + +_Bentley comes back, with his shoulders hanging as if he too had been +exercised to the last pitch of fatigue. He is very sad. They stare +at him as he gropes to Percival's chair._ + +BENTLEY. I'm sorry for making a fool of myself. I beg your pardon. +Hypatia: I'm awfully sorry; but Ive made up my mind that I'll never +marry. _[He sits down in deep depression]._ + +HYPATIA. _[running to him]_ How nice of you, Bentley! Of course you +guessed I wanted to marry Joey. What did the Polish lady do to you? + +BENTLEY. _[turning his head away]_ I'd rather not speak of her, if +you dont mind. + +HYPATIA. Youve fallen in love with her. _[She laughs]._ + +BENTLEY. It's beastly of you to laugh. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Youre not the first to fall today under the lash of +that young lady's terrible derision, Bentley. + +_Lina, her cap on, and her goggles in her hand, comes impetuously +through the inner door._ + +LINA. _[on the steps]_ Mr Percival: can we get that aeroplane +started again? _[She comes down and runs to the pavilion door]._ I +must get out of this into the air: right up into the blue. + +PERCIVAL. Impossible. The frame's twisted. The petrol has given +out: thats what brought us down. And how can we get a clear run to +start with among these woods? + +LINA. _[swooping back through the middle of the pavilion]_ We can +straighten the frame. We can buy petrol at the Beacon. With a few +laborers we can get her out on to the Portsmouth Road and start her +along that. + +TARLETON. _[rising]_ But why do you want to leave us, Miss Szcz? + +LINA. Old pal: this is a stuffy house. You seem to think of nothing +but making love. All the conversation here is about love-making. All +the pictures are about love-making. The eyes of all of you are +sheep's eyes. You are steeped in it, soaked in it: the very texts on +the walls of your bedrooms are the ones about love. It is disgusting. +It is not healthy. Your women are kept idle and dressed up for no +other purpose than to be made love to. I have not been here an hour; +and already everybody makes love to me as if because I am a woman it +were my profession to be made love to. First you, old pal. I forgave +you because you were nice about your wife. + +HYPATIA. Oh! oh! oh! Oh, papa! + +LINA. Then you, Lord Summerhays, come to me; and all you have to say +is to ask me not to mention that you made love to me in Vienna two +years ago. I forgave you because I thought you were an ambassador; +and all ambassadors make love and are very nice and useful to people +who travel. Then this young gentleman. He is engaged to this young +lady; but no matter for that: he makes love to me because I carry him +off in my arms when he cries. All these I bore in silence. But now +comes your Johnny and tells me I'm a ripping fine woman, and asks me +to marry him. I, Lina Szczepanowska, MARRY him!!!!! I do not mind +this boy: he is a child: he loves me: I should have to give him +money and take care of him: that would be foolish, but honorable. I +do not mind you, old pal: you are what you call an old--ouf! but you +do not offer to buy me: you say until we are tired--until you are so +happy that you dare not ask for more. That is foolish too, at your +age; but it is an adventure: it is not dishonorable. I do not mind +Lord Summerhays: it was in Vienna: they had been toasting him at a +great banquet: he was not sober. That is bad for the health; but it +is not dishonorable. But your Johnny! Oh, your Johnny! with his +marriage. He will do the straight thing by me. He will give me a +home, a position. He tells me I must know that my present position is +not one for a nice woman. This to me, Lina Szczepanowska! I am an +honest woman: I earn my living. I am a free woman: I live in my own +house. I am a woman of the world: I have thousands of friends: +every night crowds of people applaud me, delight in me, buy my +picture, pay hard-earned money to see me. I am strong: I am skilful: +I am brave: I am independent: I am unbought: I am all that a woman +ought to be; and in my family there has not been a single drunkard for +four generations. And this Englishman! this linendraper! he dares to +ask me to come and live with him in this rrrrrrrabbit hutch, and take +my bread from his hand, and ask him for pocket money, and wear soft +clothes, and be his woman! his wife! Sooner than that, I would stoop +to the lowest depths of my profession. I would stuff lions with food +and pretend to tame them. I would deceive honest people's eyes with +conjuring tricks instead of real feats of strength and skill. I would +be a clown and set bad examples of conduct to little children. I +would sink yet lower and be an actress or an opera singer, imperilling +my soul by the wicked lie of pretending to be somebody else. All this +I would do sooner than take my bread from the hand of a man and make +him the master of my body and soul. And so you may tell your Johnny +to buy an Englishwoman: he shall not buy Lina Szczepanowska; and I +will not stay in the house where such dishonor is offered me. Adieu. +_[She turns precipitately to go, but is faced in the pavilion doorway +by Johnny, who comes in slowly, his hands in his pockets, meditating +deeply]._ + +JOHNNY. _[confidentially to Lina]_ You wont mention our little +conversation, Miss Shepanoska. It'll do no good; and I'd rather you +didnt. + +TARLETON. Weve just heard about it, Johnny. + +JOHNNY. _[shortly, but without ill-temper]_ Oh: is that so? + +HYPATIA. The cat's out of the bag, Johnny, about everybody. They +were all beforehand with you: papa, Lord Summerhays, Bentley and all. +Dont you let them laugh at you. + +JOHNNY. _[a grin slowly overspreading his countenance]_ Well, theres +no use my pretending to be surprised at you, Governor, is there? I +hope you got it as hot as I did. Mind, Miss Shepanoska: it wasnt +lost on me. I'm a thinking man. I kept my temper. Youll admit that. + +LINA. _{frankly]_ Oh yes. I do not quarrel. You are what is called +a chump; but you are not a bad sort of chump. + +JOHNNY. Thank you. Well, if a chump may have an opinion, I should +put it at this. You make, I suppose, ten pounds a night off your own +bat, Miss Lina? + +LINA. _[scornfully]_ Ten pounds a night! I have made ten pounds a +minute. + +JOHNNY. _[with increased respect]_ Have you indeed? I didnt know: +youll excuse my mistake, I hope. But the principle is the same. Now +I trust you wont be offended at what I'm going to say; but Ive thought +about this and watched it in daily experience; and you may take it +from me that the moment a woman becomes pecuniarily independent, she +gets hold of the wrong end of the stick in moral questions. + +LINA. Indeed! And what do you conclude from that, Mister Johnny? + +JOHNNY. Well, obviously, that independence for women is wrong and +shouldnt be allowed. For their own good, you know. And for the good +of morality in general. You agree with me, Lord Summerhays, dont you? + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. It's a very moral moral, if I may so express myself. + +_Mrs Tarleton comes in softly through the inner door._ + +MRS TARLETON. Dont make too much noise. The lad's asleep. + +TARLETON. Chickabiddy: we have some news for you. + +JOHNNY. _[apprehensively]_ Now theres no need, you know, Governor, +to worry mother with everything that passes. + +MRS TARLETON. _[coming to Tarleton]_ Whats been going on? Dont you +hold anything back from me, John. What have you been doing? + +TARLETON. Bentley isnt going to marry Patsy. + +MRS TARLETON. Of course not. Is that your great news? I never +believed she'd marry him. + +TARLETON. Theres something else. Mr Percival here-- + +MRS TARLETON. _[to Percival]_ Are you going to marry Patsy? + +PERCIVAL _[diplomatically]_ Patsy is going to marry me, with your +permission. + +MRS TARLETON. Oh, she has my permission: she ought to have been +married long ago. + +HYPATIA. Mother! + +TARLETON. Miss Lina here, though she has been so short a time with +us, has inspired a good deal of attachment in--I may say in almost all +of us. Therefore I hope she'll stay to dinner, and not insist on +flying away in that aeroplane. + +PERCIVAL. You must stay, Miss Szczepanowska. I cant go up again this +evening. + +LINA. Ive seen you work it. Do you think I require any help? And +Bentley shall come with me as a passenger. + +BENTLEY. _[terrified]_ Go up in an aeroplane! I darent. + +LINA. You must learn to dare. + +BENTLEY. _[pale but heroic]_ All right. I'll come. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS| No, no, Bentley, impossible. I + | shall not allow it. + | +MRS TARLETON. | Do you want to kill the child? He shant go. + +BENTLEY. I will. I'll lie down and yell until you let me go. I'm +not a coward. I wont be a coward. + +LORD SUMMERHAYS. Miss Szczepanowska: my son is very dear to me. I +implore you to wait until tomorrow morning. + +LINA. There may be a storm tomorrow. And I'll go: storm or no +storm. I must risk my life tomorrow. + +BENTLEY. I hope there will be a storm. + +LINA. _[grasping his arm]_ You are trembling. + +BENTLEY. Yes: it's terror, sheer terror. I can hardly see. I can +hardly stand. But I'll go with you. + +LINA. _[slapping him on the back and knocking a ghastly white smile +into his face]_ You shall. I like you, my boy. We go tomorrow, +together. + +BENTLEY. Yes: together: tomorrow. + +TARLETON. Well, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Read +the old book. + +MRS TARLETON. Is there anything else? + +TARLETON. Well, I--er _[he addresses Lina, and stops]._ I--er _[he +addresses Lord Summerhays, and stops]._ I--er _[he gives it up]._ +Well, I suppose--er--I suppose theres nothing more to be said. + +HYPATIA. _[fervently]_ Thank goodness! + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Misalliance by George Bernard Shaw + diff --git a/old/msali10.zip b/old/msali10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd9faf7 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/msali10.zip |