LESBIA. Lonely! With her child. The poor woman would be only too
glad to have a moment to herself. Dont be absurd, Rejjy.
REGINALD. That father is to be a wandering wretched outcast,
living at his club, and seeing nobody but his friends' wives!
LESBIA [ironically] Poor fellow!
HOTCHKISS. The friends' wives are perhaps the solution of the
problem. You see, their husbands will also be outcasts; and the
poor ladies will occasionally pine for male society.
LESBIA. There is no reason why a mother should not have male
society. What she clearly should not have is a husband.
SOAMES. Anything else, Miss Grantham?
LESBIA. Yes: I must have my own separate house, or my own
separate part of a house. Boxer smokes: I cant endure tobacco.
Boxer believes that an open window means death from cold and
exposure to the night air: I must have fresh air always. We can
be friends; but we cant live together; and that must be put in
the agreement.
EDITH. Ive no objection to smoking; and as to opening the
windows, Cecil will of course have to do what is best for his
health.
THE BISHOP. Who is to be the judge of that, my dear? You or he?
EDITH. Neither of us. We must do what the doctor orders.
REGINALD. Doctor be--!
LEO [admonitorily] Rejjy!
REGINALD [to Soames] You take my tip, Anthony. Put a clause into
that agreement that the doctor is to have no say in the job. It's
bad enough for the two people to be married to one another
without their both being married to the doctor as well.
LESBIA. That reminds me of something very important. Boxer
believes in vaccination: I do not. There must be a clause that I
am to decide on such questions as I think best.
LEO [to the Bishop] Baptism is nearly as important as
vaccination: isnt it?
THE BISHOP. It used to be considered so, my dear.
LEO. Well, Sinjon scoffs at it: he says that godfathers are
ridiculous. I must be allowed to decide.
REGINALD. Theyll be his children as well as yours, you know.
LEO. Dont be indelicate, Rejjy.
EDITH. You are forgetting the very important matter of money.
COLLINS. Ah! Money! Now we're coming to it!
EDITH. When I'm married I shall have practically no money except
what I shall earn.
THE BISHOP. I'm sorry, Cecil. A Bishop's daughter is a poor man's
daughter.
SYKES. But surely you dont imagine that I'm going to let Edith
work when we're married. I'm not a rich man; but Ive enough to
spare her that; and when my mother dies--
EDITH. What nonsense! Of course I shall work when I'm married. I
shall keep your house.
SYKES. Oh, that!
REGINALD. You call that work?
EDITH. Dont you? Leo used to do it for nothing; so no doubt you
thought it wasnt work at all. Does your present housekeeper do it
for nothing?
REGINALD. But it will be part of your duty as a wife.
EDITH. Not under this contract. I'll not have it so. If I'm to
keep the house, I shall expect Cecil to pay me at least as well
as he would pay a hired housekeeper. I'll not go begging to him
every time I want a new dress or a cab fare, as so many women
have to do.
SYKES. You know very well I would grudge you nothing, Edie.
EDITH. Then dont grudge me my self-respect and independence. I
insist on it in fairness to you, Cecil, because in this way there
will be a fund belonging solely to me; and if Slattox takes an
action against you for anything I say, you can pay the damages
and stop the interest out of my salary.
SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be
liable, because you will not be his wife in law.
EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.
COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action
against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I
settle it?
EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.
COLLINS. What for, miss, if I may ask?
EDITH. Slattox is a liar and a thief; and it is my duty to expose
him.
COLLINS. You surprise me, miss. Of course Slattox is in a manner
of speaking a liar. If I may say so without offence, we're all
liars, if it was only to spare one another's feelings. But I
shouldnt call Slattox a thief. He's not all that he should be,
perhaps; but he pays his way.
EDITH. If that is only your nice way of saying that Slattox is
entirely unfit to have two hundred girls in his power as absolute
slaves, then I shall say that too about him at the very next
public meeting I address. He steals their wages under pretence of
fining them. He steals their food under pretence of buying it for
them. He lies when he denies having done it. And he does other
things, as you evidently know, Collins. Therefore I give you
notice that I shall expose him before all England without the
least regard to the consequences to myself.
SYKES. Or to me?
EDITH. I take equal risks. Suppose you felt it to be your duty to
shoot Slattox, what would become of me and the children? I'm sure
I dont want anybody to be shot: not even Slattox; but if the
public never will take any notice of even the most crying evil
until somebody is shot, what are people to do but shoot somebody?
SOAMES [inexorably] I'm waiting for my instructions as to the
term of the agreement.
REGINALD [impatiently, leaving the hearth and going behind
Soames] It's no good talking all over the shop like this. We
shall be here all day. I propose that the agreement holds good
until the parties are divorced.
SOAMES. They cant be divorced. They will not be married.
REGINALD. But if they cant be divorced, then this will be worse
than marriage.
MRS BRIDGENORTH. Of course it will. Do stop this nonsense. Why,
who are the children to belong to?
LESBIA. We have already settled that they are to belong to the
mother.
REGINALD. No: I'm dashed if you have. I'll fight for the
ownership of my own children tooth and nail; and so will a good
many other fellows, I can tell you.
EDITH. It seems to me that they should be divided between the
parents. If Cecil wishes any of the children to be his
exclusively, he should pay a certain sum for the risk and trouble
of bringing them into the world: say a thousand pounds apiece.
The interest on this could go towards the support of the child as
long as we live together. But the principal would be my property.
In that way, if Cecil took the child away from me, I should at
least be paid for what it had cost me.
MRS BRIDGENORTH [putting down her knitting in amazement] Edith!
Who ever heard of such a thing!!
EDITH. Well, how else do you propose to settle it?
THE BISHOP. There is such a thing as a favorite child. What about
the youngest child--the Benjamin--the child of its parents'
matured strength and charity, always better treated and better
loved than the unfortunate eldest children of their youthful
ignorance and wilfulness? Which parent is to own the youngest
child, payment or no payment?
COLLINS. Theres a third party, my lord. Theres the child itself.
My wife is so fond of her children that they cant call their
lives their own. They all run away from home to escape from her.
A child hasnt a grown-up person's appetite for affection. A
little of it goes a long way with them; and they like a good
imitation of it better than the real thing, as every nurse knows.
SOAMEs. Are you sure that any of us, young or old, like the real
thing as well as we like an artistic imitation of it? Is not the
real thing accursed? Are not the best beloved always the good
actors rather than the true sufferers? Is not love always
falsified in novels and plays to make it endurable? I have
noticed in myself a great delight in pictures of the Saints and
of Our Lady; but when I fall under that most terrible curse of
the priest's lot, the curse of Joseph pursued by the wife of
Potiphar, I am invariably repelled and terrified.
HOTCHKISS. Are you now speaking as a saint, Father Anthony, or as
a solicitor?
SOAMES. There is no difference. There is not one Christian rule
for solicitors and another for saints. Their hearts are alike;
and their way of salvation is along the same road.
THE BISHOP. But "few there be that find it." Can you find it for
us, Anthony?
SOAMES. It lies broad before you. It is the way to destruction
that is narrow and tortuous. Marriage is an abomination which the
Church has founded to cast out and replace by the communion of
saints. I learnt that from every marriage settlement I drew up as
a solicitor no less than from inspired revelation. You have set
yourselves here to put your sin before you in black and white;
and you cant agree upon or endure one article of it.
SYKES. It's certainly rather odd that the whole thing seems to
fall to pieces the moment you touch it.
THE BISHOP. You see, when you give the devil fair play he loses
his case. He has not been able to produce even the first clause
of a working agreement; so I'm afraid we cant wait for him any
longer.
LESBIA. Then the community will have to do without my children.
EDITH. And Cecil will have to do without me.
LEO [getting off the chest] And I positively will not marry
Sinjon if he is not clever enough to make some provision for my
looking after Rejjy. [She leaves Hotchkiss, and goes back to her
chair at the end of the table behind Mrs Bridgenorth].
MRS BRIDGENORTH. And the world will come to an end with this
generation, I suppose.
COLLINS. Cant nothing be done, my lord?
THE BISHOP. You can make divorce reasonable and decent: that is
all.
LESBIA. Thank you for nothing. If you will only make marriage
reasonable and decent, you can do as you like about divorce. I
have not stated my deepest objection to marriage; and I dont
intend to. There are certain rights I will not give any person
over me.
REGINALD. Well, I think it jolly hard that a man should support
his wife for years, and lose the chance of getting a really good
wife, and then have her refuse to be a wife to him.
LESBIA. I'm not going to discuss it with you, Rejjy. If your
sense of personal honor doesnt make you understand, nothing will.
SOAMES [implacably] I'm still awaiting my instructions.
They look at one another, each waiting for one of the others to
suggest something. Silence.
REGINALD [blankly] I suppose, after all, marriage is better than
--well, than the usual alternative.
SOAMES [turning fiercely on him] What right have you to say so?
You know that the sins that are wasting and maddening this
unhappy nation are those committed in wedlock.
COLLINS. Well, the single ones cant afford to indulge their
affections the same as married people.
SOAMES. Away with it all, I say. You have your Master's
commandments. Obey them.
HOTCHKISS [rising and leaning on the back of the chair left
vacant by the General] I really must point out to you, Father
Anthony, that the early Christian rules of life were not made to
last, because the early Christians did not believe that the world
itself was going to last. Now we know that we shall have to go
through with it. We have found that there are millions of years
behind us; and we know that that there are millions before us.
Mrs Bridgenorth's question remains unanswered. How is the world
to go on? You say that that is our business--that it is the
business of Providence. But the modern Christian view is that we
are here to do the business of Providence and nothing else. The
question is, how. Am I not to use my reason to find out why? Isnt
that what my reason is for? Well, all my reason tells me at
present is that you are an impracticable lunatic.
SOAMEs. Does that help?
HOTCHKISS. No.
SOAMEs. Then pray for light.
HOTCHKISS. No: I am a snob, not a beggar. [He sits down in the
General's chair].
COLLINS. We dont seem to be getting on, do we? Miss Edith: you
and Mr Sykes had better go off to church and settle the right and
wrong of it afterwards. Itll ease your minds, believe me: I speak
from experience. You will burn your boats, as one might say.
SOAMES. We should never burn our boats. It is death in life.
COLLINS. Well, Father, I will say for you that you have views of
your own and are not afraid to out with them. But some of us are
of a more cheerful disposition. On the Borough Council now, you
would be in a minority of one. You must take human nature as it
is.
SOAMES. Upon what compulsion must I? I'll take divine nature as
it is. I'll not hold a candle to the devil.
THE BISHOP. Thats a very unchristian way of treating the devil.
REGINALD. Well, we dont seem to be getting any further, do we?
THE BISHOP. Will you give it up and get married, Edith?
EDITH. No. What I propose seems to me quite reasonable.
THE BISHOP. And you, Lesbia?
LESBIA. Never.
MRS BRIDGENORTH. Never is a long word, Lesbia. Dont say it.
LESBIA [with a flash of temper] Dont pity me, Alice, please. As I
said before, I am an English lady, quite prepared to do without
anything I cant have on honorable conditions.
SOAMES [after a silence expressive of utter deadlock] I am still
awaiting my instructions.
REGINALD. Well, we dont seem to be getting along, do we?
LEO [out of patience] You said that before, Rejjy. Do not repeat
yourself.
REGINALD. Oh, bother! [He goes to the garden door and looks out
gloomily].
SOAMES [rising with the paper in his hands] Psha! [He tears it in
pieces]. So much for the contract!
THE VOICE OF THE BEADLE. By your leave there, gentlemen. Make way
for the Mayoress. Way for the worshipful the Mayoress, my lords
and gentlemen. [He comes in through the tower, in cocked hat and
goldbraided overcoat, bearing the borough mace, and posts himself
at the entrance]. By your leave, gentlemen, way for the
worshipful the Mayoress.
COLLINS [moving back towards the wall] Mrs George, my lord.
Mrs George is every inch a Mayoress in point of stylish dressing;
and she does it very well indeed. There is nothing quiet about
Mrs George; she is not afraid of colors, and knows how to make
the most of them. Not at all a lady in Lesbia's use of the term
as a class label, she proclaims herself to the first glance as
the triumphant, pampered, wilful, intensely alive woman who has
always been rich among poor people. In a historical museum she
would explain Edward the Fourth's taste for shopkeepers' wives.
Her age, which is certainly 40, and might be 50, is carried off
by her vitality, her resilient figure, and her confident
carriage. So far, a remarkably well-preserved woman. But her
beauty is wrecked, like an ageless landscape ravaged by long and
fierce war. Her eyes are alive, arresting and haunting; and there
is still a turn of delicate beauty and pride in her indomitable
chin; but her cheeks are wasted and lined, her mouth writhen and
piteous. The whole face is a battlefield of the passions, quite
deplorable until she speaks, when an alert sense of fun
rejuvenates her in a moment, and makes her company irresistible.
All rise except Soames, who sits down. Leo joins Reginald at the
garden door. Mrs Bridgenorth hurries to the tower to receive her
guest, and gets as far as Soames's chair when Mrs George appears.
Hotchkiss, apparently recognizing her, recoils in consternation
to the study door at the furthest corner of the room from her.
MRS GEORGE [coming straight to the Bishop with the ring in her
hand] Here is your ring, my lord; and here am I. It's your doing,
remember: not mine.
THE BISHOP. Good of you to come.
MRS BRIDGENORTH. How do you do, Mrs Collins?
MRS GEORGE [going to her past the Bishop, and gazing intently at
her] Are you his wife?
MRS BRIDGENORTH. The Bishop's wife? Yes.
MRS GEORGE. What a destiny! And you look like any other woman!
MRS BRIDGENORTH [introducing Lesbia] My sister, Miss Grantham.
MRS GEORGE. So strangely mixed up with the story of the General's
life?
THE BISHOP. You know the story of his life, then?
MRS GEORGE. Not all. We reached the house before he brought it up
to the present day. But enough to know the part played in it by
Miss Grantham.
MRS BRIDGENORTH [introducing Leo] Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth.
REGINALD. The late Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth.
LEO. Hold your tongue, Rejjy. At least have the decency to wait
until the decree is made absolute.
MRS GEORGE [to Leo] Well, youve more time to get married again
than he has, havnt you?
MRS BRIDGENORTH [introducing Hotchkiss] Mr St John Hotchkiss.
Hotchkiss, still far aloof by the study door, bows.
MRS GEORGE. What! That! [She makes a half tour of the kitchen and
ends right in front of him]. Young man: do you remember coming
into my shop and telling me that my husband's coals were out of
place in your cellar, as Nature evidently intended them for the
roof?
HOTCHKISS. I remember that deplorable impertinence with shame and
confusion. You were kind enough to answer that Mr Collins was
looking out for a clever young man to write advertisements, and
that I could take the job if I liked.
MRS GEORGE. It's still open. [She turns to Edith].
MRS BRIDGENORTH. My daughter Edith. [She comes towards the study
door to make the introduction].
MRS GEORGE. The bride! [Looking at Edith's dressing-jacket] Youre
not going to get married like that, are you?
THE BISHOP [coming round the table to Edith's left] Thats just
what we are discussing. Will you be so good as to join us and
allow us the benefit of your wisdom and experience?
MRS GEORGE. Do you want the Beadle as well? He's a married man.
They all turn, involuntarily and contemplate the Beadle, who
sustains their gaze with dignity.
THE BISHOP. We think there are already too many men to be quite
fair to the women.
MRS GEORGE. Right, my lord. [She goes back to the tower and
addresses the Beadle] Take away that bauble, Joseph. Wait for me
wherever you find yourself most comfortable in the neighborhood.
[The Beadle withdraws. She notices Collins for the first time].
Hullo, Bill: youve got em all on too. Go and hunt up a drink for
Joseph: theres a dear. [Collins goes out. She looks at Soames's
cassock and biretta] What! Another uniform! Are you the sexton?
[He rises].
THE BISHOP. My chaplain, Father Anthony.
MRS GEORGE. Oh Lord! [To Soames, coaxingly] You dont mind, do
you?
SOAMES. I mind nothing but my duties.
THE BISHOP. You know everybody now, I think.
MRS GEORGE [turning to the railed chair] Who's this?
THE BISHOP. Oh, I beg your pardon, Cecil. Mr Sykes. The
bridegroom.
MRS GEORGE [to Sykes] Adorned for the sacrifice, arnt you?
SYKES. It seems doubtful whether there is going to be any
sacrifice.
MRS GEORGE. Well, I want to talk to the women first. Shall we go
upstairs and look at the presents and dresses?
MRS BRIDGENORTH. If you wish, certainly.
REGINALD. But the men want to hear what you have to say too.
MRS GEORGE. I'll talk to them afterwards: one by one.
HOTCHKISS [to himself] Great heavens!
MRS BRIDGENORTH. This way, Mrs Collins. [She leads the way out
through the tower, followed by Mrs George, Lesbia, Leo, and
Edith].
THE BISHOP. Shall we try to get through the last batch of letters
whilst they are away, Soames?
SOAMES. Yes, certainly. [To Hotchkiss, who is in his way] Excuse
me.
The Bishop and Soames go into the study, disturbing Hotchkiss,
who, plunged in a strange reverie, has forgotten where he is.
Awakened by Soames, he stares distractedly; then, with sudden
resolution, goes swiftly to the middle of the kitchen.
HOTCHKISS. Cecil. Rejjy. [Startled by his urgency, they hurry to
him]. I'm frightfully sorry to desert on this day; but I must
bolt. This time it really is pure cowardice. I cant help it.
REGINALD. What are you afraid of?
HOTCHKISS. I dont know. Listen to me. I was a young fool living
by myself in London. I ordered my first ton of coals from that
woman's husband. At that time I did not know that it is not true
economy to buy the lowest priced article: I thought all coals
were alike, and tried the thirteen shilling kind because it
seemed cheap. It proved unexpectedly inferior to the family
Silkstone; and in the irritation into which the first scuttle
threw me, I called at the shop and made an idiot of myself as she
described.
SYKES. Well, suppose you did! Laugh at it, man.
HOTCHKISS. At that, yes. But there was something worse. Judge of
my horror when, calling on the coal merchant to make a trifling
complaint at finding my grate acting as a battery of quick-firing
guns, and being confronted by his vulgar wife, I felt in her
presence an extraordinary sensation of unrest, of emotion, of
unsatisfied need. I'll not disgust you with details of the
madness and folly that followed that meeting. But it went as far
as this: that I actually found myself prowling past the shop at
night under a sort of desperate necessity to be near some place
where she had been. A hideous temptation to kiss the doorstep
because her foot had pressed it made me realize how mad I was. I
tore myself away from London by a supreme effort; but I was on
the point of returning like a needle to the lodestone when the
outbreak of the war saved me. On the field of battle the
infatuation wore off. The Billiter affair made a new man of me: I
felt that I had left the follies and puerilities of the old days
behind me for ever. But half-an-hour ago--when the Bishop sent
off that ring--a sudden grip at the base of my heart filled me
with a nameless terror--me, the fearless! I recognized its cause
when she walked into the room. Cecil: this woman is a harpy, a
siren, a mermaid, a vampire. There is only one chance for me:
flight, instant precipitate flight. Make my excuses.
Forget me. Farewell. [He makes for the door and is confronted by
Mrs George entering]. Too late: I'm lost. [He turns back and
throws himself desperately into the chair nearest the study door;
that being the furthest away from her].
MRS GEORGE [coming to the hearth and addressing Reginald] Mr
Bridgenorth: will you oblige me by leaving me with this young
man. I want to talk to him like a mother, on YOUR business.
REGINALD. Do, maam. He needs it badly. Come along, Sykes. [He
goes into the study].
SYKES [looks irresolutely at Hotchkiss]--?
HOTCHKISS. Too late: you cant save me now, Cecil. Go.
Sykes goes into the study. Mrs George strolls across to Hotchkiss
and contemplates him curiously.
HOTCHKISS. Useless to prolong this agony. [Rising] Fatal woman--
if woman you are indeed and not a fiend in human form--
MRS GEORGE. Is this out of a book? Or is it your usual society
small talk?
HOTCHKISS [recklessly] Jibes are useless: the force that is
sweeping me away will not spare you. I must know the worst at
once. What was your father?
MRS GEORGE. A licensed victualler who married his barmaid. You
would call him a publican, most likely.
HOTCHKISS. Then you are a woman totally beneath me. Do you deny
it? Do you set up any sort of pretence to be my equal in rank, in
age, or in culture?
MRS GEORGE. Have you eaten anything that has disagreed with you?
HOTCHKISS [witheringly] Inferior!
MRS GEORGE. Thank you. Anything else?
HOTCHKISS. This. I love you. My intentions are not honorable.
[She shows no dismay]. Scream. Ring the bell. Have me turned out
of the house.
MRS GEORGE [with sudden depth of feeling] Oh, if you could
restore to this wasted exhausted heart one ray of the passion
that once welled up at the glance at the touch of a lover! It's
you who would scream then, young man. Do you see this face, once
fresh and rosy like your own, now scarred and riven by a hundred
burnt-out fires?
HOTCHKISS [wildly] Slate fires. Thirteen shillings a ton. Fires
that shoot out destructive meteors, blinding and burning, sending
men into the streets to make fools of themselves.
MRS GEORGE. You seem to have got it pretty bad, Sinjon.
HOTCHKISS. Dont dare call me Sinjon.
MRS GEORGE. My name is Zenobia Alexandrina. You may call me Polly
for short.
HOTCHKISS. Your name is Ashtoreth--Durga--there is no name yet
invented malign enough for you.
MRS GEORGE [sitting down comfortably] Come! Do you really think
youre better suited to that young sauce box than her husband? You
enjoyed her company when you were only the friend of the family--
when there was the husband there to shew off against and to take
all the responsibility. Are you sure youll enjoy it as much when
you are the husband? She isnt clever, you know. She's only silly-
clever.
HOTCHKISS [uneasily leaning against the table and holding on to
it to control his nervous movements] Need you tell me? fiend that
you are!
MRS GEORGE. You amused the husband, didnt you?
HOTCHKISS. He has more real sense of humor than she. He's better
bred. That was not my fault.
MRS GEORGE. My husband has a sense of humor too.
HOTCHKISS. The coal merchant?--I mean the slate merchant.
MRS GEORGE [appreciatively] He would just love to hear you talk.
He's been dull lately for want of a change of company and a bit
of fresh fun.
HOTCHKISS [flinging a chair opposite her and sitting down with an
overdone attempt at studied insolence] And pray what is your
wretched husband's vulgar conviviality to me?
MRS GEORGE. You love me?
HOTCHKISS. I loathe you.
MRS GEORGE. It's the same thing.
HOTCHKISS. Then I'm lost.
MRS GEORGE. You may come and see me if you promise to amuse
George.
HOTCHKISS. I'll insult him, sneer at him, wipe my boots on him.
MRS GEORGE. No you wont, dear boy. Youll be a perfect gentleman.