The Collected Dramas of George Bernard Shaw (Illustrated Edition). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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СКАЧАТЬ She then retires behind the garden seat, leaning over the back beside Mrs. Clandon.) And this young gentleman?

      PHILIP. I was christened in a comparatively prosaic mood. My name is —

      DOLLY (completing his sentence for him declamatorily). “Norval. On the Grampian hills” —

      PHILIP (declaiming gravely). “My father feeds his flock, a frugal swain” —

      MRS. CLANDON (remonstrating). Dear, dear children: don’t be silly. Everything is so new to them here, Finch, that they are in the wildest spirits. They think every Englishman they meet is a joke.

      DOLLY. Well, so he is: it’s not our fault.

      PHILIP. My knowledge of human nature is fairly extensive, Mr. McComas; but I find it impossible to take the inhabitants of this island seriously.

      McCOMAS. I presume, sir, you are Master Philip (offering his hand)?

      PHILIP (taking McComas’s hand and looking solemnly at him). I was Master Philip — was so for many years; just as you were once Master Finch. (He gives his hand a single shake and drops it; then turns away, exclaiming meditatively) How strange it is to look back on our boyhood! (McComas stares after him, not at all pleased.)

      DOLLY (to Mrs. Clandon). Has Finch had a drink?

      MRS. CLANDON (remonstrating). Dearest: Mr. McComas will lunch with us.

      DOLLY. Have you ordered for seven? Don’t forget the old gentleman.

      MRS. CLANDON. I have not forgotten him, dear. What is his name?

      DOLLY. Chalkstones. He’ll be here at half past one. (To McComas.) Are we like what you expected?

      MRS. CLANDON (changing her tone to a more earnest one). Dolly: Mr. McComas has something more serious than that to tell you. Children: I have asked my old friend to answer the question you asked this morning. He is your father’s friend as well as mine: and he will tell you the story more fairly than I could. (Turning her head from them to Gloria.) Gloria: are you satisfied?

      GLORIA (gravely attentive). Mr. McComas is very kind.

      McCOMAS (nervously). Not at all, my dear young lady: not at all. At the same time, this is rather sudden. I was hardly prepared — er —

      DOLLY (suspiciously). Oh, we don’t want anything prepared.

      PHILIP (exhorting him). Tell us the truth.

      DOLLY (emphatically). Bald headed.

      McCOMAS (nettled). I hope you intend to take what I have to say seriously.

      PHILIP (with profound mock gravity). I hope it will deserve it, Mr. McComas. My knowledge of human nature teaches me not to expect too much.

      MRS. CLANDON (remonstrating). Phil —

      PHILIP. Yes, mother, all right. I beg your pardon, Mr. McComas: don’t mind us.

      DOLLY (in conciliation). We mean well.

      PHILIP. Shut up, both.

      (Dolly holds her lips. McComas takes a chair from the luncheon table; places it between the little table and the garden seat with Dolly on his right and Philip on his left; and settles himself in it with the air of a man about to begin a long communication. The Clandons match him expectantly.)

      McCOMAS. Ahem! Your father —

      DOLLY (interrupting). How old is he?

      PHILIP. Sh!

      MRS. CLANDON (softly). Dear Dolly: don’t let us interrupt Mr. McComas.

      McCOMAS (emphatically). Thank you, Mrs. Clandon. Thank you. (To Dolly.) Your father is fifty-seven.

      DOLLY (with a bound, startled and excited). Fifty-seven! Where does he live?

      MRS. CLANDON (remonstrating). Dolly, Dolly!

      McCOMAS (stopping her). Let me answer that, Mrs. Clandon. The answer will surprise you considerably. He lives in this town. (Mrs. Clandon rises. She and Gloria look at one another in the greatest consternation.)

      DOLLY (with conviction). I knew it! Phil: Chalkstones is our father.

      McCOMAS. Chalkstones!

      DOLLY. Oh, Crampstones, or whatever it is. He said I was like his mother. I knew he must mean his daughter.

      PHILIP (very seriously). Mr. McComas: I desire to consider your feelings in every possible way: but I warn you that if you stretch the long arm of coincidence to the length of telling me that Mr. Crampton of this town is my father, I shall decline to entertain the information for a moment.

      McCOMAS. And pray why?

      PHILIP. Because I have seen the gentleman; and he is entirely unfit to be my father, or Dolly’s father, or Gloria’s father, or my mother’s husband.

      McCOMAS. Oh, indeed! Well, sir, let me tell you that whether you like it or not, he is your father, and your sister’ father, and Mrs. Clandon’s husband. Now! What have you to say to that!

      DOLLY (whimpering). You needn’t be so cross. Crampton isn’t your father.

      PHILIP. Mr. McComas: your conduct is heartless. Here you find a family enjoying the unspeakable peace and freedom of being orphans. We have never seen the face of a relative — never known a claim except the claim of freely chosen friendship. And now you wish to thrust into the most intimate relationship with us a man whom we don’t know —

      DOLLY (vehemently). An awful old man! (reproachfully) And you began as if you had quite a nice father for us.

      McCOMAS (angrily). How do you know that he is not nice? And what right have you to choose your own father? (raising his voice.) Let me tell you, Miss Clandon, that you are too young to —

      DOLLY (interrupting him suddenly and eagerly). Stop, I forgot! Has he any money?

      McCOMAS. He has a great deal of money.

      DOLLY (delighted). Oh, what did I always say, Phil?

      PHILIP. Dolly: we have perhaps been condemning the old man too hastily. Proceed, Mr. McComas.

      McCOMAS. I shall not proceed, sir. I am too hurt, too shocked, to proceed.

      MRS. CLANDON (urgently). Finch: do you realize what is happening? Do you understand that my children have invited that man to lunch, and that he will be here in a few moments?

      McCOMAS (completely upset). What! do you mean — am I to understand — is it —

      PHILIP (impressively). Steady, Finch. Think it out slowly and carefully. He’s coming — coming to lunch.

      GLORIA. Which of us is to tell him the truth? Have you thought of that?

      MRS. CLANDON. Finch: you must tell him.

      DOLLY Oh, Finch is no good at telling things. Look at СКАЧАТЬ