AMY. [_Unresponsive to him now._] I was Justin's wife, and I went away
from him sooner than bear him children. Had I the right to choose or had
I not?
TREBELL. [_Taking another path._] Shall I tell you something I believe?
If we were left to choose, we should stand for ever deciding whether to
start with the right foot or the left. We blunder into the best things
in life. Then comes the test . . have we faith enough to go on . . to go
through with the unknown thing?
AMY. [_So bored by these metaphysics._] Faith in what?
TREBELL. Our vitality. I don't give a fig for beauty, happiness, or
brains. All I ask of myself is . . can I pay Fate on demand?
AMY. Yes . . in imagination. But I've got physical facts to face.
_But he has her attention now and pursues the advantage._
TREBELL. Very well then . . let the meaning of them go. Look forward
simply to a troublesome illness. In a little while you can go abroad
quietly and wait patiently. We're not fools and we needn't find fools to
trust in. Then come back to England . . .
AMY. And forget. That seems simple enough, doesn't it?
TREBELL. If you don't want the child let it be mine . . not yours.
AMY. [_Wondering suddenly at this bond between them._] Yours! What would
you do with it?
TREBELL. [_Matter-of-fact._] Provide for it, of course.
AMY. Never see it, perhaps.
TREBELL. Perhaps not. If there were anything to be gained . . for the
child. I'll see that he has his chance as a human being.
AMY. How hopeful! [_Now her voice drops. She is looking back, perhaps at
a past self._] If you loved me . . perhaps I might learn to love the
thought of your child.
TREBELL. [_As if half his life depended on her answer._] Is that true?
AMY. [_Irritably._] Why are you picking me to pieces? I think that is
true. If you had been loving me for a long, long time-- [_The agony
rushes back on her._] But now I'm only afraid. You might have some pity
for me . . I'm so afraid.
TREBELL. [_Touched._] Indeed . . indeed, I'll take what share of this I
can.
_She shrinks from him unforgivingly._
AMY. No, let me alone. I'm nothing to you. I'm a sick beast in danger of
my life, that's all . . cancerous!
_He is roused for the first time, roused to horror and protest._
TREBELL. Oh, you unhappy woman! . . . if life is like death to you . . .
AMY. [_Turning on him._] Don't lecture me! If you're so clever put a
stop to this horror. Or you might at least say you're sorry.
TREBELL. Sorry! [_The bell on the table rings jarringly._] Cantelupe!
_He goes to the telephone. She gets up cold and collected, steadied
merely by the unexpected sound._
AMY. I mustn't keep you from governing the country. I'm sure you'll do
it very well.
TREBELL. [_At the telephone._] Yes, bring him up, of course . . isn't
Mr. Kent there? [_then to her._] I may be ten minutes with him or half
an hour. Wait and we'll come to a conclusion.
KENT _comes in, an open letter in his hand_.
KENT. This note, sir. Had I better go round myself and see him?
TREBELL. [_As he takes the note._] Cantelupe's come.
KENT. [_Glancing at the telephone._] Oh, has he!
TREBELL. [_As he reads._] Yes I think you had.
KENT. Evans was very serious.
_He goes back into his room._ AMY _moves swiftly to where_ TREBELL _is
standing and whispers_.
AMY. Won't you tell me whom to go to?
TREBELL. No.
AMY. Oh, really . . what unpractical sentimental children you men are!
You and your consciences . . you and your laws. You drive us to
distraction and sometimes to death by your stupidities. Poor women--!
_The Maid comes in to announce_ LORD CHARLES CANTELUPE, _who follows
her_. CANTELUPE _is forty, unathletic, and a gentleman in the best and
worst sense of the word. He moves always with a caution which may betray
his belief in the personality of the Devil. He speaks cautiously too,
and as if not he but something inside him were speaking. One feels that
before strangers he would not if he could help it move or speak at all.
A pale face: the mouth would be hardened by fanaticism were it not for
the elements of Christianity in his religion: and he has the limpid eye
of the enthusiast._
TREBELL. Glad to see you. You know Mrs. O'Connell.
CANTELUPE _bows in silence_.
AMY. We have met.
_She offers her hand. He silently takes it and drops it._
TREBELL. Then you'll wait for Frances.
AMY. Is it worth while?
KENT _with his hat on leaves his room and goes downstairs_.
TREBELL. Have you anything better to do?
AMY. There's somewhere I can go. But I mustn't keep you chatting of my
affairs. Lord Charles is impatient to disestablish the Church.
CANTELUPE. [_Unable to escape a remark._] Forgive me, since that is also
your affair.
AMY. Oh . . but I was received at the Oratory when I was married.
CANTELUPE. [_With contrition._] I beg your pardon.
_Then he makes for the other side of the room._ TREBELL _and_ MRS.
O'CONNELL _stroll to the door, their eyes full of meaning_.
AMY. I think I'll go on to this place that I've heard of. If I wait . .
for your sister . . she may disappoint me again.
TREBELL. Wait.
KENT'S _room is vacant_.
AMY. Well . . in here?
TREBELL. If you like law-books.
AMY. I haven't been much of an interruption now, have I?
TREBELL. Please wait.
AMY. Thank you.
TREBELL _shuts her in, for a moment seems inclined to lock her in, but
he comes back into his own room and faces_ CANTELUPE, _who having primed
and trained himself on his subject like a gun, fires off a speech,
without haste, but also apparently without taking breath_.
CANTELUPE. I was extremely thankful, Mr. Trebell, to hear last week from
Horsham that you will see your way to join his cabinet and undertake the
disestablishment bill in the House of Commons. Any measure of mine, I
have always been convinced, would be too much under the suspicion of
blindly favouring Church interests to command the allegiance of that
heterogeneous mass of thought . . in some cases, alas, of free thought . .
which now-a-days composes the Conservative party. I am more than
content to exercise what influence I may from a seat in the cabinet
which will authorise the bill.
TREBELL. Yes. That chair's comfortable.
CANTELUPE _takes another_.
CANTELUPE. Horsham forwarded to me your memorandum upon the conditions
you held necessary and I incline to think I may accept them in principle
on behalf of those who honour me with their confidences.
_He fishes some papers from his pocket._ TREBELL _sits squarely at his
table to grapple with the matter_.
TREBELL. Horsham told me you did accept them . . it's on that I'm
joining.
CANTELUPE. Yes . . in principle.
TREBELL. Well . . we couldn't carry a bill you disapproved of, could we?
CANTELUPE. [_With finesse._] I hope not.
TREBELL. [_A little dangerously._] And I have no intention of being made
the scapegoat of a wrecked Tory compromise with the Nonconformists.
CANTELUPE. [_Calmly ignoring the suggestion._] So far as I am concerned
I meet the Nonconformists on their own ground . . that Religion had
better be free from all compromise with the State.
TREBELL. Quite so . . if you're set free you'll look after yourselves.
My discovery must be what to do with the men who think more of the state
than their Church . . the majority of parsons, don't you think? . . if
the question's really put and they can be made to understand it.
CANTELUPE. [_With sincere disdain._] There are more profitable
professions.
TREBELL. And less. Will you allow me that it is statecraft to make a
profession profitable?
CANTELUPE _picks up his papers, avoiding theoretical discussion_.
CANTELUPE. Well now . . will you explain to me this project for endowing
Education with your surplus?
TREBELL. Putting Appropriation, the Buildings and the Representation
question on one side for the moment?
CANTELUPE. Candidly, I have yet to master your figures . . .
TREBELL. The roughest figures so far.
CANTELUPE. Still I have yet to master them on the first two points.
TREBELL. [_Firmly premising._] We agree that this is not diverting
church money to actually secular uses.
CANTELUPE. [_As he peeps from under his eyelids._] I can conceive that
it might not be. You know that we hold Education to be a Church
function. But . . .
TREBELL. Can you accept thoroughly now the secular solution for all
Primary Schools?
CANTELUPE. Haven't we always preferred it to the undenominational? Are
there to be facilities for any of the teachers giving dogmatic
instruction?
TREBELL. I note your emphasis on any. I think we can put the burden of
that decision on local authorities. Let us come to the question of
Training Colleges for your teachers. It's on that I want to make my
bargain.
CANTELUPE. [_Alert and cautious._] You want to endow colleges?
TREBELL. Heavily.
CANTELUPE. Under public control?
TREBELL. Church colleges under Church control.
CANTELUPE. There'd be others?
TREBELL. To preserve the necessary balance in the schools.
CANTELUPE. Not founded with church money?
TREBELL. Think of the grants in aid that will be released. I must ask
the Treasury for a further lump sum and with that there may be
sufficient for secular colleges . . if you can agree with me upon the
statutes of those over which you'd otherwise have free control.
TREBELL _is weighing his words_.
CANTELUPE. "You" meaning, for instance . . what authorities in the
Church?
TREBELL. Bishops, I suppose . . and others. [CANTELUPE _permits himself
to smile._] On that point I shall be weakness itself and . . may I
suggest . . your seat in the cabinet will give you some control.
CANTELUPE. Statutes?
TREBELL. To be framed in the best interests of educational efficiency.
CANTELUPE. [_Finding an opening._] I doubt if we agree upon the meaning
to be attached to that term.
TREBELL. [_Forcing the issue._] What meaning do you attach to it?
CANTELUPE. [_Smiling again._] I have hardly a sympathetic listener.
TREBELL. You have an unprejudiced one . . the best you can hope for. I
was not educated myself. I learnt certain things that I desired to know
. . from reading my first book--Don Quixote it was--to mastering Company
Law. You see, as a man without formulas either for education or
religion, I am perhaps peculiarly fitted to settle the double question.
I have no grudges . . no revenge to take.
CANTELUPE. [_Suddenly congenial._] Shelton's translation of Don Quixote
I hope . . the modern ones have no flavour. And you took all the
adventures as seriously as the Don did?
TREBELL. [_Not expecting this._] I forget.
CANTELUPE. It's the finer attitude . . the child's attitude. And it
would enable you immediately to comprehend mine towards an education
consisting merely of practical knowledge. The life of Faith is still the
happy one. What is more crushingly finite than knowledge? Moral
discipline is a nation's only safety. How much of your science tends in
support of the great spiritual doctrine of sacrifice!
TREBELL _returns to his subject as forceful as ever_.
TREBELL. The Church has assimilated much in her time. Do you think it
wise to leave agnostic science at the side of the plate? I think, you
know, that this craving for common knowledge is a new birth in the mind
of man; and if your church won't recognise that soon, by so much will
she be losing her grip for ever over men's minds. What's the test of
godliness, but your power to receive the new idea in whatever form it
comes and give it life? It is blasphemy to pick and choose your good.
[_For a moment his thoughts seem to be elsewhere._] That's an unhappy
man or woman or nation . . I know it if it has only come to me this
minute . . and I don't care what their brains or their riches or their
beauty or any of their triumph may be . . they're unhappy and useless if
they can't tell life from death.
CANTELUPE. [_Interested in the digression._] Remember that the Church's
claim has ever been to know that difference.
TREBELL. [_Fastening to his subject again._] My point is this: A man's
demand to know the exact structure of a fly's wing, and his assertion
that it degrades any child in the street not to know such a thing, is a
religious revival . . a token of spiritual hunger. What else can it be?
And we commercialise our teaching!
CANTELUPE. I wouldn't have it so.
TREBELL. Then I'm offering you the foundation of a new Order of men and
women who'll serve God by teaching his children. Now shall we finish the
conversation in prose?
CANTELUPE. [_Not to be put down._] What is the prose for God?
TREBELL. [_Not to be put down either._] That's what we irreligious
people are giving our lives to discover. [_He plunges into detail._] I'm
proposing to found about seventy-two new colleges, and of course, to
bring the ones there are up to the new standard. Then we must gradually
revise all teaching salaries in government schools . . to a scale I have
in mind. Then the course must be compulsory and the training time
doubled--
CANTELUPE. Doubled! Four years?
TREBELL. Well, a minimum of three . . a university course. Remember
we're turning a trade into a calling.
CANTELUPE. There's more to that than taking a degree.
TREBELL. I think so. You've fought for years for your tests and your
atmosphere with plain business men not able to understand such lunacy.
Quite right . . atmosphere's all that matters. If one and one don't make
two by God's grace . . .
CANTELUPE. Poetry again!
TREBELL. I beg your pardon. Well . . you've no further proof. If you
can't plant your thumb on the earth and your little finger on the pole
star you know nothing of distances. We must do away with text-book
teachers.
CANTELUPE _is opening out a little in spite of himself_.
CANTELUPE. I'm waiting for our opinions to differ.
TREBELL. [_Businesslike again._] I'll send you a draft of the statutes I
propose within a week. Meanwhile shall I put the offer this way. If I
accept your tests will you accept mine?
CANTELUPE. What are yours?
TREBELL. I believe if one provides for efficiency one provides for the
best part of truth . . honesty of statement. I shall hope for a little
more elasticity in your dogmas than Becket or Cranmer or Laud would have
allowed. When you've a chance to re-formulate the reasons of your faith
for the benefit of men teaching mathematics and science and history and
political economy, you won't neglect to answer or allow for criticisms
and doubts. I don't see why . . in spite of all the evidence to the
contrary . . such a thing as progress in a definite religious faith is
impossible.
CANTELUPE. Progress is a soiled word. [_And now he weighs his words._] I
shall be very glad to accept on the Church's behalf control of the
teaching of teachers in these colleges.
TREBELL. Good. I want the best men.
CANTELUPE. You are surprisingly inexperienced if you think that creeds
can ever become mere forms except to those who have none.
TREBELL. But teaching--true teaching--is learning, and the wish to know
is going to prevail against any creed . . so I think. I wish you cared
as little for the form in which a truth is told as I do. On the whole,
you see, I think I shall manage to plant your theology in such soil this
spring that the garden will be fruitful. On the whole I'm a believer in
Churches of all sorts and their usefulness to the State. Your present
use is out-worn. Have I found you in this the beginnings of a new one?
CANTELUPE. The Church says: Thank you, it is a very old one.
TREBELL. [_Winding up the interview._] To be sure, for practical
politics our talk can be whittled down to your accepting the secular
solution for Primary Schools, if you're given these colleges under such
statutes as you and I shall agree upon.
CANTELUPE. And the country will accept.
TREBELL. The country will accept any measure if there's enough money in
it to bribe all parties fairly.
CANTELUPE. You expect very little of the constancy of my Church to her
Faith, Mr. Trebell.
TREBELL. I have only one belief myself. That is in human progress--yes,
progress--over many obstacles and by many means. I have no ideals. I
believe it is statesmanlike to use all the energy you find . . turning
it into the nearest channel that points forward.
CANTELUPE. Forward to what?
TREBELL. I don't know . . and my caring doesn't matter. We do know . .
and if we deny it it's only to be encouraged by contradiction . . that
the movement is forward and with some gathering purpose. I'm friends
with any fellow traveller.
CANTELUPE _has been considering him very curiously. Now he gets up to
go._
CANTELUPE. I should like to continue our talk when I've studied your
draft of the statutes. Of course the political position is favourable to
a far more comprehensive bill than we had ever looked for . . and you've
the advantage now of having held yourself very free from party ties. In
fact not only will you give us the bill we shall most care to accept,
but I don't know what other man would give us a bill we and the other
side could accept at all.
TREBELL. I can let you have more Appropriation figures by Friday. The
details of the Fabrics scheme will take a little longer.
CANTELUPE. In a way there's no such hurry. We're not in office yet.
TREBELL. When I'm building with figures I like to give the foundations
time to settle. Otherwise they are the inexactest things.
CANTELUPE. [_Smiling to him for the first time._] We shall have you
finding Faith the only solvent of all problems some day.
TREBELL. I hope my mind is not afraid . . even of the Christian
religion.
CANTELUPE. I am sure that the needs of the human soul . . be it dressed
up in whatever knowledge . . do not alter from age to age . .
_He opens the door to find_ WEDGECROFT _standing outside, watch in
hand_.
TREBELL. Hullo . . . waiting?
WEDGECROFT. I was giving you two minutes by my watch. How are you,
Cantelupe?
CANTELUPE, _with a gesture which might be mistaken for a bow, folds
himself up_.
TREBELL. Shall I bring you the figures on Friday . . that might save
time.
CANTELUPE, _by taking a deeper fold in himself seems to assent_.
TREBELL. Will the afternoon do? Kent shall fix the hour.
CANTELUPE. [_With an effort._] Kent?
TREBELL. My secretary.
CANTELUPE. Friday. Any hour before five. I know my way.
_The three phrases having meant three separate efforts_, CANTELUPE
_escapes_. WEDGECROFT _has walked to the table, his brows a little
puckered. Now_ TREBELL _notices that_ KENT'S _door is open; he goes
quickly into the room and finds it empty. Then he stands for a moment
irritable and undecided before returning._
TREBELL. Been here long?
WEDGECROFT. Five minutes . . more, I suppose.
TREBELL. Mrs. O'Connell gone?
WEDGECROFT. To her dressmaker's.
TREBELL. Frances forgot she was coming and went out.
WEDGECROFT. Pretty little fool of a woman! D'you know her husband?
TREBELL. No.
WEDGECROFT. Says she's been in Ireland with him since we met at
Shapters. He has trouble with his tenantry.
TREBELL. Won't he sell or won't they purchase?
WEDGECROFT. Curious chap. A Don at Balliol when I first knew him. Warped
of late years . . perhaps by his marriage.
TREBELL. [_Dismissing that subject._] Well . . how's Percival?
WEDGECROFT. Better this morning. I told him I'd seen you . . and in a
little calculated burst of confidence what I'd reason to think you were
after. He said you and he could get on though you differed on every
point; but he didn't see how you'd pull with such a blasted weak-kneed
lot as the rest of the Horsham's cabinet would be. He'll be up in a week
or ten days.
TREBELL. Can I see him?
WEDGECROFT. You might. I admire the old man . . the way he sticks to his
party, though they misrepresent now most things he believes in!
TREBELL. What a damnable state to arrive at . . doubly damned by the
fact you admire it.
WEDGECROFT. And to think that at this time of day you should need
instructing in the ethics of party government. But I'll have to do it.
TREBELL. Not now. I've been at ethics with Cantelupe.
WEDGECROFT. Certainly not now. What about my man with the stomach-ache
at twelve o'clock sharp! Good-bye.
_He is gone._ TREBELL _battles with uneasiness and at last mutters_.
"Oh . . why didn't she wait?" _Then the telephone bell rings. He goes
quickly as if it were an answer to his anxiety._ "Yes?" _Of course, it
isn't . ._ "Yes." _He paces the room, impatient, wondering what to do.
The Maid comes in to announce_ MISS DAVENPORT. LUCY _follows her. She
has gained lately perhaps a little of the joy which was lacking and at
least she brings now into this room a breath of very wholesome
womanhood._
LUCY. It's very good of you to let me come; I'm not going to keep you
more than three minutes.
TREBELL. Sit down.
_Only women unused to busy men would call him rude._
LUCY. What I want to say is . . don't mind my being engaged to Walter.
It shan't interfere with his work for you. If you want a proof that it
shan't . . it was I got Aunt Julia to ask you to take him . . Though he
didn't know . . so don't tell him that.
TREBELL. You weren't engaged then.
LUCY. I . . thought that we might be.
TREBELL. [_With cynical humour._] Which I'm not to tell him either?
LUCY. Oh, that wouldn't matter.
TREBELL. [_With decision._] I'll make sure you don't interfere.
LUCY. [_Deliberately . . not to be treated as a child._] You couldn't,
you know, if I wanted to.
TREBELL. Why, is Walter a fool?
LUCY. He's very fond of me, if that's what you mean?
TREBELL _looks at her for the first time and changes his tone a little_.
TREBELL. If it was what I meant . . I'm disposed to withdraw the
suggestion.
LUCY. And, because I'm fond of his work as well, I shan't therefore ask
him to tell me things . . secrets.
TREBELL. [_Reverting to his humour._] It'll be when you're a year or two
married that danger may occur . . in his desperate effort to make
conversation.
LUCY _considers this and him quite seriously_.
LUCY. You're rather hard on women, aren't you . . just because they
don't have the chances men do.
TREBELL. Do you want the chances?
LUCY. I think I'm as clever as most men I meet, though I know less, of
course.
TREBELL. Perhaps I should have offered you the secretaryship instead.
LUCY. [_Readily._] Don't you think I'm taking it in a way . . by
marrying Walter? That's fanciful of course. But marriage is a very
general and complete sort of partnership, isn't it? At least, I'd like
to make mine so.
TREBELL. He'll be more under your thumb in some things if you leave him
free in others.
_She receives the sarcasm in all seriousness and then speaks to him as
she would to a child._
LUCY. Oh . . I'm not explaining what I mean quite well perhaps. Walter
has been everywhere and done everything. He speaks three languages . .
which all makes him an ideal private secretary.
TREBELL. Quite.
LUCY. Do you think he'd develop into anything else . . but for me?
TREBELL. So I have provided just a first step, have I?
LUCY. [_With real enthusiasm._] Oh, Mr. Trebell, it's a great thing for
us. There isn't anyone worth working under but you. You'll make him
think and give him ideas instead of expecting them from him. But just
for that reason he'd get so attached to you and be quite content to grow
old in your shadow . . if it wasn't for me.
TREBELL. True . . I should encourage him in nothingness. What's more, I
want extra brains and hands. It's not altogether a pleasant thing, is
it . . the selfishness of the hard worked man?
LUCY. If you don't grudge your own strength, why should you be tender of
other people's?
_He looks at her curiously._
TREBELL. Your ambition is making for only second-hand satisfaction
though.
LUCY. What's a woman to do? She must work through men, mustn't she?
TREBELL. I'm told that's degrading . . the influencing of husbands and
brothers and sons.
LUCY. [_Only half humorously._] But what else is one to do with them? Of
course, I've enough money to live on . . so I could take up some woman's
profession. . . What are you smiling at?
TREBELL. [_Who has smiled very broadly._] As you don't mean to . . don't
stop while I tell you.
LUCY. But I'd sooner get married. I want to have children. [_The words
catch him and hold him. He looks at her reverently this time. She
remembers she has transgressed convention; then, remembering that it is
only convention, proceeds quite simply._] I hope we shall have children.
TREBELL. I hope so.
LUCY. Thank you. That's the first kind thing you've said.
TREBELL. Oh . . you can do without compliments, can't you?
_She considers for a moment._
LUCY. Why have you been talking to me as if I were someone else?
TREBELL. [_Startled._] Who else?
LUCY. No one particular. But you've shaken a moral fist so to speak. I
don't think I provoked it.
TREBELL. It's a bad parliamentary habit. I apologise.
_She gets up to go._
LUCY. Now I shan't keep you longer . . you're always busy. You've been
so easy to talk to. Thank you very much.
TREBELL. Why . . I wonder?
LUCY. I knew you would be or I shouldn't have come. You think Life's an
important thing, don't you? That's priggish, isn't it? Good-bye. We're
coming to dinner . . Aunt Julia and I. Miss Trebell arrived to ask us
just as I left.
TREBELL. I'll see you down.
LUCY. What waste of time for you. I know how the door opens.
_As she goes out_ WALTER KENT _is on the way to his room. The two nod to
each other like old friends._ TREBELL _turns away with something of a
sigh_.
KENT. Just come?
LUCY. Just going.
KENT. I'll see you at dinner.
LUCY. Oh, are you to be here? . . that's nice.
LUCY _departs as purposefully as she came_. KENT _hurries to_ TREBELL,
_whose thoughts are away again by now_.
KENT. I haven't been long there and back, have I? The Bishop gave me
these letters for you. He hasn't answered the last . . but I've his
notes of what he means to say. He'd like them back to-night. He was just
going out. I've one or two notes of what Evans said. Bit of a charlatan,
don't you think?
TREBELL. Evans?
KENT. Well, he talked of his Flock. There are quite fifteen letters
you'll have to deal with yourself, I'm afraid.
TREBELL _stares at him: then, apparently, making up his mind_ . .
TREBELL. Ring up a messenger, will you . . I must write a note and send
it.
KENT. Will you dictate?
TREBELL. I shall have done it while you're ringing . . it's only a
personal matter. Then we'll start work.
KENT _goes into his room and tackles the telephone there_. TREBELL _sits
down to write the note, his face very set and anxious_.