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

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СКАЧАТЬ anxiety.) I wish I knew what has frightened you so. Was there a struggle? Did he fight?

      JUDITH. No. He smiled.

      ANDERSON. Did he realise his danger, do you think?

      JUDITH. He realised yours.

      ANDERSON. Mine!

      JUDITH (monotonously). He said, “See that you get him safely out of harm’s way.” I promised: I can’t keep my promise. He said, “Don’t for your life let him know of my danger.” I’ve told you of it. He said that if you found it out, you could not save him — that they will hang him and not spare you.

      ANDERSON (rising in generous indignation). And you think that I will let a man with that much good in him die like a dog, when a few words might make him die like a Christian? I’m ashamed of you, Judith.

      JUDITH. He will be steadfast in his religion as you are in yours; and you may depend on him to the death. He said so.

      ANDERSON. God forgive him! What else did he say?

      JUDITH. He said goodbye.

      ANDERSON (fidgeting nervously to and fro in great concern). Poor fellow, poor fellow! You said goodbye to him in all kindness and charity, Judith, I hope.

      JUDITH. I kissed him.

      ANDERSON. What! Judith!

      JUDITH. Are you angry?

      ANDERSON. No, no. You were right: you were right. Poor fellow, poor fellow! (Greatly distressed.) To be hanged like that at his age! And then did they take him away?

      JUDITH (wearily). Then you were here: that’s the next thing I remember. I suppose I fainted. Now bid me goodbye, Tony. Perhaps I shall faint again. I wish I could die.

      ANDERSON. No, no, my dear: you must pull yourself together and be sensible. I am in no danger — not the least in the world.

      JUDITH (solemnly). You are going to your death, Tony — your sure death, if God will let innocent men be murdered. They will not let you see him: they will arrest you the moment you give your name. It was for you the soldiers came.

      ANDERSON (thunderstruck). For me!!! (His fists clinch; his neck thickens; his face reddens; the fleshy purses under his eyes become injected with hot blood; the man of peace vanishes, transfigured into a choleric and formidable man of war. Still, she does not come out of her absorption to look at him: her eyes are steadfast with a mechanical reflection of Richard’s steadfastness.)

      JUDITH. He took your place: he is dying to save you. That is why he went in your coat. That is why I kissed him.

      ANDERSON (exploding). Blood an’ owns! (His voice is rough and dominant, his gesture full of brute energy.) Here! Essie, Essie!

      ESSIE (running in). Yes.

      ANDERSON (impetuously). Off with you as hard as you can run, to the inn. Tell them to saddle the fastest and strongest horse they have (Judith rises breathless, and stares at him incredulously) — the chestnut mare, if she’s fresh — without a moment’s delay. Go into the stable yard and tell the black man there that I’ll give him a silver dollar if the horse is waiting for me when I come, and that I am close on your heels. Away with you. (His energy sends Essie flying from the room. He pounces on his riding boots; rushes with them to the chair at the fire; and begins pulling them on.)

      JUDITH (unable to believe such a thing of him). You are not going to him!

      ANDERSON (busy with the boots). Going to him! What good would that do? (Growling to himself as he gets the first boot on with a wrench) I’ll go to them, so I will. (To Judith peremptorily) Get me the pistols: I want them. And money, money: I want money — all the money in the house. (He stoops over the other boot, grumbling) A great satisfaction it would be to him to have my company on the gallows. (He pulls on the boot.)

      JUDITH. You are deserting him, then?

      ANDERSON. Hold your tongue, woman; and get me the pistols. (She goes to the press and takes from it a leather belt with two pistols, a powder horn, and a bag of bullets attached to it. She throws it on the table. Then she unlocks a drawer in the press and takes out a purse. Anderson grabs the belt and buckles it on, saying) If they took him for me in my coat, perhaps they’ll take me for him in his. (Hitching the belt into its place) Do I look like him?

      JUDITH (turning with the purse in her hand). Horribly unlike him.

      ANDERSON (snatching the purse from her and emptying it on the table). Hm! We shall see.

      JUDITH (sitting down helplessly). Is it of any use to pray, do you think, Tony?

      ANDERSON (counting the money). Pray! Can we pray Swindon’s rope off Richard’s neck?

      JUDITH. God may soften Major Swindon’s heart.

      ANDERSON (contemptuously — pocketing a handful of money). Let him, then. I am not God; and I must go to work another way. (Judith gasps at the blasphemy. He throws the purse on the table.) Keep that. I’ve taken 25 dollars.

      JUDITH. Have you forgotten even that you are a minister?

      ANDERSON. Minister be — faugh! My hat: where’s my hat? (He snatches up hat and cloak, and puts both on in hot haste.) Now listen, you. If you can get a word with him by pretending you’re his wife, tell him to hold his tongue until morning: that will give me all the start I need.

      JUDITH (solemnly). You may depend on him to the death.

      ANDERSON. You’re a fool, a fool, Judith (for a moment checking the torrent of his haste, and speaking with something of his old quiet and impressive conviction). You don’t know the man you’re married to. (Essie returns. He swoops at her at once.) Well: is the horse ready?

      ESSIE (breathless). It will be ready when you come.

      ANDERSON. Good. (He makes for the door.)

      JUDITH (rising and stretching out her arms after him involuntarily). Won’t you say goodbye?

      ANDERSON. And waste another half minute! Psha! (He rushes out like an avalanche.)

      ESSIE (hurrying to Judith). He has gone to save Richard, hasn’t he?

      JUDITH. To save Richard! No: Richard has saved him. He has gone to save himself. Richard must die.

      Essie screams with terror and falls on her knees, hiding her face. Judith, without heeding her, looks rigidly straight in front of her, at the vision of Richard, dying.

      ACT III

       Table of Contents

      Early next morning the sergeant, at the British headquarters in the Town Hall, unlocks the door of a little empty panelled waiting room, and invites Judith to enter. She has had a bad night, probably a rather delirious one; for even in the reality of the raw morning, her fixed gaze comes back at moments when her attention is not strongly held.

      The sergeant considers that her feelings do her credit, СКАЧАТЬ