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

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СКАЧАТЬ (plaintively). If they will only be fair to me!

      McCOMAS. My dear Crampton, they won’t be fair to you: it’s not to be expected from them at their age. If you’re going to make impossible conditions of this kind, we may as well go back home at once.

      CRAMPTON. But surely I have a right —

      McCOMAS (intolerantly). You won’t get your rights. Now, once for all, Crampton, did your promises of good behavior only mean that you won’t complain if there’s nothing to complain of? Because, if so — (He moves as if to go.)

      CRAMPTON (miserably). No, no: let me alone, can’t you? I’ve been bullied enough: I’ve been tormented enough. I tell you I’ll do my best. But if that girl begins to talk to me like that and to look at me like — (He breaks off and buries his head in his hands.)

      McCOMAS (relenting). There, there: it’ll be all right, if you will only bear and forbear. Come, pull yourself together: there’s someone coming. (Crampton, too dejected to care much, hardly changes his attitude. Gloria enters from the garden; McComas goes to meet her at the window; so that he can speak to her without being heard by Crampton.) There he is, Miss Clandon. Be kind to him. I’ll leave you with him for a moment. (He goes into the garden. Gloria comes in and strolls coolly down the middle of the room.)

      CRAMPTON (looking round in alarm). Where’s McComas?

      GLORIA (listlessly, but not unsympathetically). Gone out — to leave us together. Delicacy on his part, I suppose. (She stops beside him and looks quaintly down at him.) Well, father?

      CRAMPTON (a quaint jocosity breaking through his forlornness). Well, daughter? (They look at one another for a moment, with a melancholy sense of humor.)

      GLORIA. Shake hands. (They shake hands.)

      CRAMPTON (holding her hand). My dear: I’m afraid I spoke very improperly of your mother this afternoon.

      GLORIA. Oh, don’t apologize. I was very high and mighty myself; but I’ve come down since: oh, yes: I’ve been brought down. (She sits on the floor beside his chair.)

      CRAMPTON. What has happened to you, my child?

      GLORIA. Oh, never mind. I was playing the part of my mother’s daughter then; but I’m not: I’m my father’s daughter. (Looking at him funnily.) That’s a come down, isn’t it?

      CRAMPTON (angry). What! (Her odd expression does not alter. He surrenders.) Well, yes, my dear: I suppose it is, I suppose it is. (She nods sympathetically.) I’m afraid I’m sometimes a little irritable; but I know what’s right and reasonable all the time, even when I don’t act on it. Can you believe that?

      GLORIA. Believe it! Why, that’s myself — myself all over. I know what’s right and dignified and strong and noble, just as well as she does; but oh, the things I do! the things I do! the things I let other people do!!

      CRAMPTON (a little grudgingly in spite of himself). As well as she does? You mean your mother?

      GLORIA (quickly). Yes, mother. (She turns to him on her knees and seizes his hands.) Now listen. No treason to her: no word, no thought against her. She is our superior — yours and mine — high heavens above us. Is that agreed?

      CRAMPTON. Yes, yes. Just as you please, my dear.

      GLORIA (not satisfied, letting go his hands and drawing back from him). You don’t like her?

      CRAMPTON. My child: you haven’t been married to her. I have. (She raises herself slowly to her feet, looking at him with growing coldness.) She did me a great wrong in marrying me without really caring for me. But after that, the wrong was all on my side, I dare say. (He offers her his hand again.)

      GLORIA (taking it firmly and warningly). Take care. That’s a dangerous subject. My feelings — my miserable, cowardly, womanly feelings — may be on your side; but my conscience is on hers.

      CRAMPTON. I’m very well content with that division, my dear. Thank you. (Valentine arrives. Gloria immediately becomes deliberately haughty.)

      VALENTINE. Excuse me; but it’s impossible to find a servant to announce one: even the never failing William seems to be at the ball. I should have gone myself; only I haven’t five shillings to buy a ticket. How are you getting on, Crampton? Better, eh?

      CRAMPTON. I am myself again, Mr. Valentine, no thanks to you.

      VALENTINE. Look at this ungrateful parent of yours, Miss Clandon! I saved him from an excruciating pang; and he reviles me!

      GLORIA (coldly). I am sorry my mother is not here to receive you, Mr. Valentine. It is not quite nine o’clock; and the gentleman of whom Mr. McComas spoke, the lawyer, is not yet come.

      VALENTINE. Oh, yes, he is. I’ve met him and talked to him. (With gay malice.) You’ll like him, Miss Clandon: he’s the very incarnation of intellect. You can hear his mind working.

      GLORIA (ignoring the jibe). Where is he?

      VALENTINE. Bought a false nose and gone into the fancy ball.

      CRAMPTON (crustily, looking at his watch). It seems that everybody has gone to this fancy ball instead of keeping to our appointment here.

      VALENTINE. Oh, he’ll come all right enough: that was half an hour ago. I didn’t like to borrow five shillings from him and go in with him; so I joined the mob and looked through the railings until Miss Clandon disappeared into the hotel through the window.

      GLORIA. So it has come to this, that you follow me about in public to stare at me.

      VALENTINE. Yes: somebody ought to chain me up.

      Gloria turns her back on him and goes to the fireplace. He takes the snub very philosophically, and goes to the opposite side of the room. The waiter appears at the window, ushering in Mrs. Clandon and McComas.

      MRS. CLANDON (hurrying in). I am so sorry to have kept you waiting.

      A grotesquely majestic stranger, in a domino and false nose, with goggles, appears at the window.

      WAITER (to the stranger). Beg pardon, sir; but this is a private apartment, sir. If you will allow me, sir, I will shew you to the American bar and supper rooms, sir. This way, sir.

      He goes into the gardens, leading the way under the impression that the stranger is following him. The majestic one, however, comes straight into the room to the end of the table, where, with impressive deliberation, he takes off the false nose and then the domino, rolling up the nose into the domino and throwing the bundle on the table like a champion throwing down his glove. He is now seen to be a stout, tall man between forty and fifty, clean shaven, with a midnight oil pallor emphasized by stiff black hair, cropped short and oiled, and eyebrows like early Victorian horsehair upholstery. Physically and spiritually, a coarsened man: in cunning and logic, a ruthlessly sharpened one. His bearing as he enters is sufficiently imposing and disquieting; but when he speaks, his powerful, menacing voice, impressively articulated speech, strong inexorable manner, and a terrifying power of intensely critical listening raise the impression produced by him to absolute tremendousness.

      THE STRANGER. My name is Bohun. (General awe.) Have I the honor of addressing Mrs. Clandon? (Mrs. Clandon bows. Bohun bows.) Miss Clandon? (Gloria bows. Bohun bows.) Mr. Clandon?

СКАЧАТЬ