60 Plays: The George Bernard Shaw Edition (Illustrated). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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СКАЧАТЬ CLANDON. But where is the counsel’s opinion to come from?

      McCOMAS. It has dropped down on us out of the clouds. On my way back here from Crampton’s I met a most eminent Q.C., a man whom I briefed in the case that made his name for him. He has come down here from Saturday to Monday for the sea air, and to visit a relative of his who lives here. He has been good enough to say that if I can arrange a meeting of the parties he will come and help us with his opinion. Now do let us seize this chance of a quiet friendly family adjustment. Let me bring my friend here and try to persuade Crampton to come, too. Come: consent.

      MRS. CLANDON (rather ominously, after a moment’s consideration). Finch: I don’t want counsel’s opinion, because I intend to be guided by my own opinion. I don’t want to meet Fergus again, because I don’t like him, and don’t believe the meeting will do any good. However (rising), you have persuaded the children that he is not quite hopeless. Do as you please.

      McCOMAS (taking her hand and shaking it). Thank you, Mrs. Clandon. Will nine o’clock suit you?

      MRS. CLANDON. Perfectly. Phil: will you ring, please. (Phil rings the bell.) But if I am to be accused of conspiring with Mr. Valentine, I think he had better be present.

      VALENTINE (rising). I quite agree with you. I think it’s most important.

      McCOMAS. There can be no objection to that, I think. I have the greatest hopes of a happy settlement. Goodbye for the present. (He goes out, meeting the waiter; who holds the door for him to pass through.)

      MRS. CLANDON. We expect some visitors at nine, William. Can we have dinner at seven instead of half-past?

      WAITER (at the door). Seven, ma’am? Certainly, ma’am. It will be a convenience to us this busy evening, ma’am. There will be the band and the arranging of the fairy lights and one thing or another, ma’am.

      DOLLY. The fairy lights!

      PHILIP. The band! William: what mean you?

      WAITER. The fancy ball, miss —

      DOLLY and PHILIP (simultaneously rushing to him). Fancy ball!

      WAITER. Oh, yes, sir. Given by the regatta committee for the benefit of the Lifeboat, sir. (To Mrs. Clandon.) We often have them, ma’am: Chinese lanterns in the garden, ma’am: very bright and pleasant, very gay and innocent indeed. (To Phil.) Tickets downstairs at the office, sir, five shillings: ladies half price if accompanied by a gentleman.

      PHILIP (seizing his arm to drag him off). To the office, William!

      DOLLY (breathlessly, seizing his other arm). Quick, before they’re all sold. (They rush him out of the room between them.)

      MRS. CLANDON. What on earth are they going to do? (Going out.) I really must go and stop this — (She follows them, speaking as she disappears. Gloria stares coolly at Valentine, and then deliberately looks at her watch.)

      VALENTINE. I understand. I’ve stayed too long. I’m going.

      GLORIA (with disdainful punctiliousness). I owe you some apology, Mr. Valentine. I am conscious of having spoken somewhat sharply — perhaps rudely — to you.

      VALENTINE. Not at all.

      GLORIA. My only excuse is that it is very difficult to give consideration and respect when there is no dignity of character on the other side to command it.

      VALENTINE (prosaically). How is a man to look dignified when he’s infatuated?

      GLORIA (effectually unstilted). Don’t say those things to me. I forbid you. They are insults.

      VALENTINE. No: they’re only follies. I can’t help them.

      GLORIA. If you were really in love, it would not make you foolish: it would give you dignity — earnestness — even beauty.

      VALENTINE. Do you really think it would make me beautiful? (She turns her back on him with the coldest contempt.) Ah, you see you’re not in earnest. Love can’t give any man new gifts. It can only heighten the gifts he was born with.

      GLORIA (sweeping round at him again). What gifts were you born with, pray?

      VALENTINE. Lightness of heart.

      GLORIA. And lightness of head, and lightness of faith, and lightness of everything that makes a man.

      VALENTINE. Yes, the whole world is like a feather dancing in the light now; and Gloria is the sun. (She rears her head angrily.) I beg your pardon: I’m off. Back at nine. Goodbye. (He runs off gaily, leaving her standing in the middle of the room staring after him.)

      END OF ACT III

      ACT IV

       Table of Contents

      The same room. Nine o’clock. Nobody present. The lamps are lighted; but the curtains are not drawn. The window stands wide open; and strings of Chinese lanterns are glowing among the trees outside, with the starry sky beyond. The band is playing dance-music in the garden, drowning the sound of the sea.

      The waiter enters, shewing in Crampton and McComas. Crampton looks cowed and anxious. He sits down wearily and timidly on the ottoman.

      WAITER. The ladies have gone for a turn through the grounds to see the fancy dresses, sir. If you will be so good as to take seats, gentlemen, I shall tell them. (He is about to go into the garden through the window when McComas stops him.)

      McCOMAS. One moment. If another gentleman comes, shew him in without any delay: we are expecting him.

      WAITER. Right, sir. What name, sir?

      McCOMAS. Boon. Mr. Boon. He is a stranger to Mrs. Clandon; so he may give you a card. If so, the name is spelt B.O.H.U.N. You will not forget.

      WAITER (smiling). You may depend on me for that, sir. My own name is Boon, sir, though I am best known down here as Balmy Walters, sir. By rights I should spell it with the aitch you, sir; but I think it best not to take that liberty, sir. There is Norman blood in it, sir; and Norman blood is not a recommendation to a waiter.

      McCOMAS. Well, well: “True hearts are more than coronets, and simple faith than Norman blood.”

      WAITER. That depends a good deal on one’s station in life, sir. If you were a waiter, sir, you’d find that simple faith would leave you just as short as Norman blood. I find it best to spell myself B. double-O.N., and to keep my wits pretty sharp about me. But I’m taking up your time, sir. You’ll excuse me, sir: your own fault for being so affable, sir. I’ll tell the ladies you’re here, sir. (He goes out into the garden through the window.)

      McCOMAS. Crampton: I can depend on you, can’t I?

      CRAMPTON. Yes, yes. I’ll be quiet. I’ll be patient. I’ll do my best.

      McCOMAS. Remember: I’ve not given you away. I’ve told them it was all their fault.

      CRAMPTON. You told me that it was all my fault.

      McCOMAS. СКАЧАТЬ