The Essential Plays of George Bernard Shaw (Illustrated Edition). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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СКАЧАТЬ I have not been allowed to speak. I protest against this.

      DOLLY (taking his arm coaxingly). Dear Finch: don’t be cross.

      MRS. CLANDON. Gloria: let us go in. He may arrive at any moment.

      GLORIA (proudly). Do not stir, mother. I shall not stir. We must not run away.

      MRS. CLANDON (delicately rebuking her). My dear: we cannot sit down to lunch just as we are. We shall come back again. We must have no bravado. (Gloria winces, and goes into the hotel without a word.) Come, Dolly. (As she goes into the hotel door, the waiter comes out with plates, etc., for two additional covers on a tray.)

      WAITER. Gentlemen come yet, ma’am?

      MRS. CLANDON. Two more to come yet, thank you. They will be here, immediately. (She goes into the hotel. The waiter takes his tray to the service table.)

      PHILIP. I have an idea. Mr. McComas: this communication should be made, should it not, by a man of infinite tact?

      McCOMAS. It will require tact, certainly.

      PHILIP Good! Dolly: whose tact were you noticing only this morning?

      DOLLY (seizing the idea with rapture). Oh, yes, I declare! William!

      PHILIP. The very man! (Calling) William!

      WAITER. Coming, sir.

      McCOMAS (horrified). The waiter! Stop, stop! I will not permit this. I —

      WAITER (presenting himself between Philip and McComas). Yes, sir. (McComas’s complexion fades into stone grey; and all movement and expression desert his eyes. He sits down stupefied.)

      PHILIP. William: you remember my request to you to regard me as your son?

      WAITER (with respectful indulgence). Yes, sir. Anything you please, sir.

      PHILIP. William: at the very outset of your career as my father, a rival has appeared on the scene.

      WAITER. Your real father, sir? Well, that was to be expected, sooner or later, sir, wasn’t it? (Turning with a happy smile to McComas.) Is it you, sir?

      McCOMAS (renerved by indignation). Certainly not. My children know how to behave themselves.

      PHILIP. No, William: this gentleman was very nearly my father: he wooed my mother, but wooed her in vain.

      McCOMAS (outraged). Well, of all the —

      PHILIP. Sh! Consequently, he is only our solicitor. Do you know one Crampton, of this town?

      WAITER. Cock-eyed Crampton, sir, of the Crooked Billet, is it?

      PHILIP. I don’t know. Finch: does he keep a public house?

      McCOMAS (rising scandalized). No, no, no. Your father, sir, is a well-known yacht builder, an eminent man here.

      WAITER (impressed). Oh, beg pardon, sir, I’m sure. A son of Mr. Crampton’s! Dear me!

      PHILIP. Mr. Crampton is coming to lunch with us.

      WAITER (puzzled). Yes, sir. (Diplomatically.) Don’t usually lunch with his family, perhaps, sir?

      PHILIP (impressively). William: he does not know that we are his family. He has not seen us for eighteen years. He won’t know us. (To emphasize the communication he seats himself on the iron table with a spring, and looks at the waiter with his lips compressed and his legs swinging.)

      DOLLY. We want you to break the news to him, William.

      WAITER. But I should think he’d guess when he sees your mother, miss. (Philip’s legs become motionless at this elucidation. He contemplates the waiter raptly.)

      DOLLY (dazzled). I never thought of that.

      PHILIP. Nor I. (Coming off the table and turning reproachfully on McComas.) Nor you.

      DOLLY. And you a solicitor!

      PHILIP. Finch: Your professional incompetence is appalling. William: your sagacity puts us all to shame.

      DOLLY You really are like Shakespear, William.

      WAITER. Not at all, sir. Don’t mention it, miss. Most happy, I’m sure, sir. (Goes back modestly to the luncheon table and lays the two additional covers, one at the end next the steps, and the other so as to make a third on the side furthest from the balustrade.)

      PHILIP (abruptly). Finch: come and wash your hands. (Seizes his arm and leads him toward the hotel.)

      McCOMAS. I am thoroughly vexed and hurt, Mr. Clandon —

      PHILIP (interrupting him). You will get used to us. Come, Dolly. (McComas shakes him off and marches into the hotel. Philip follows with unruffled composure.)

      DOLLY (turning for a moment on the steps as she follows them). Keep your wits about you, William. There will be fireworks.

      WAITER. Right, miss. You may depend on me, miss. (She goes into the hotel.)

      (Valentine comes lightly up the steps from the beach, followed doggedly by Crampton. Valentine carries a walking stick. Crampton, either because he is old and chilly, or with some idea of extenuating the unfashionableness of his reefer jacket, wears a light overcoat. He stops at the chair left by McComas in the middle of the terrace, and steadies himself for a moment by placing his hand on the back of it.)

      CRAMPTON. Those steps make me giddy. (He passes his hand over his forehead.) I have not got over that infernal gas yet.

      (He goes to the iron chair, so that he can lean his elbows on the little table to prop his head as he sits. He soon recovers, and begins to unbutton his overcoat. Meanwhile Valentine interviews the waiter.)

      VALENTINE. Waiter!

      WAITER (coming forward between them). Yes, sir.

      VALENTINE. Mrs. Lanfrey Clandon.

      WAITER (with a sweet smile of welcome). Yes, sir. We’re expecting you, sir. That is your table, sir. Mrs. Clandon will be down presently, sir. The young lady and young gentleman were just talking about your friend, sir.

      VALENTINE. Indeed!

      WAITER (smoothly melodious). Yes, sire. Great flow of spirits, sir. A vein of pleasantry, as you might say, sir. (Quickly, to Crampton, who has risen to get the overcoat off.) Beg pardon, sir, but if you’ll allow me (helping him to get the overcoat off and taking it from him). Thank you, sir. (Crampton sits down again; and the waiter resumes the broken melody.) The young gentleman’s latest is that you’re his father, sir.

      CRAMPTON. What!

      WAITER. Only his joke, sir, his favourite joke. Yesterday, I was to be his father. To-day, as soon as he knew you were coming, sir, he tried to put it up on me that you were his father, his long lost father — not seen you for eighteen years, he said.

      CRAMPTON (startled). Eighteen years!

      WAITER. СКАЧАТЬ