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.