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

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СКАЧАТЬ Don’t be afraid — a fellow conspirator [introduces them] the Signora Bolla: Doctor Martini.

      MARTINI. Your husband, Signora, was an old friend of mine.

      SIGNORA GRASSINI. Yes; but go on about the Gadfly.

      What else does it say?

      MARTINI [reads] “Special marks: right foot lame; left arm twisted; two fingers missing on left hand; recent sabre cut across face; stammers.” Then there’s a note put: [reads] “Very expert shot; care should be taken in arresting.”

      SIGNORA GRASSINI. How horrid! I hope he’ll come.

      GEMMA [gravely] I hope he will not.

      A manservant whispers to Grassini.

      GRASSINI [excitedly] My love, the new tenor has come.

      SIGNORA GRASSINI. The tenor! Stop the band. Clear everything off the piano. Has he brought an accompanist?

      She rushes into the house.

      GRASSINI [following] Shut all the windows tight. Put screens before all the doors. Light a fire in the cloak room.

      He follows her — The Guests crowd into the house after them, and the windows are shut.

      Martini remains behind with Gemma.

      MARTINI. Signora Bolla: why do you hope that the Gadfly may not come?

      GEMMA. He belongs to a society called the Occoltellatori — the Knifers. We are revolutionists, not assassins.

      MARTINI. The knife is sometimes the only remedy.

      GEMMA. You say that very glibly. Did you ever kill a man?

      MARTINI. [starting] Heaven forbid!

      GEMMA. Ah! I thought so. I did.

      MARTINI. You!

      GEMMA. Yes, I. It was the man who betrayed Bolla.

      MARTINI [horrified] You brought your hand to use a knife!

      GEMMA. No. I struck him in the face with my open hand; that was all. We were very young. I had been his friend; and I suppose he loved me. He went away and drowned himself.

      MARTINI. Do you call that killing a man?

      GEMMA. What do you call it?

      MARTINI. Serve the young traitor right!

      GEMMA. But you have not heard the end of the story. He was innocent.

      MARTINI. Then why did he not clear himself?

      GEMMA. He could not. He had betrayed us in the confessional. The priest was a spy.

      MARTINI. The fellow must have been a fool to be caught in such a trap as that.

      GEMMA. No, only a boy. He was pious and credulous, full of faith and enthusiasm, incapable of realizing the cruelty and treachery of our enemies. I killed him; there is no getting away from that. And Bolla escaped after all, and married me, and died in his bed in England.

      MARTINI [sympathetically] You mustn’t let your mind dwell on any remorseful notions.

      GEMMA. Oh, I quite understand all that. You need not be afraid of my making any morbid fuss over so old a story. But I will have nothing to do with assassins. If your Gadfly attempts to bring the knife into our propaganda, I shall withdraw at once.

      MARTINI. Never fear. It is his tongue and pen we want; they are both sharper than most men’s daggers.

      GEMMA. What need have we of him at all?

      MARTINI. To destroy Cardinal Montanelli.

      GEMMA. Destroy?

      MARTINI. Oh don’t be alarmed. We had better cut our own throats than scratch the skin of the good Cardinal. It would be a martyrdom; the people think him a saint.

      GEMMA. What will you do to him, then?

      MARTINI. Make him ridiculous. That’s what the Gadfly is for; the Cardinal’s saintliness will wither up into the dotage of an old fool when the Gadfly begins to sting. The creature is all venom — ouf! I wish we could do without him; I am not sure that the dagger is not a manlier weapon after all.

      GEMMA. No; for with the dagger the lowest wretch can end the highest life; but if Montanelli is really a saint, your Gadfly will get the worst of it. [She passes her hand over her brow] Strange! that we should get talking of Montanelli now!

      MARTINI. Why?

      GEMMA. He was the Confessor of the boy I killed.

      MARTINI [indignantly] What! Was he the spy?

      GEMMA. Oh, no, no, no. He was away when that happened; otherwise Arthur would have been alive today.

      MARTINI. The boy’s name was Arthur?

      GEMMA. Yes. Montanelli loved him as if he were his own son. He had known Arthur’s mother.

      MARTINI [significantly] Oh, indeed!

      GEMMA. What do you mean by that?

      MARTINI. Oh, nothing, nothing. Montanelli knew Arthur’s mother: Montanelli loved Arthur as if he were his own son. That seems to me extremely natural.

      GEMMA. Are you as cynical as the rest of them?

      MARTINI. Do you really think that it is cynical to give a priest credit for being a human being? At all events, Signora, you are sufficiently a woman of the world to understand that if the Gadfly gets hold of this story it will put a little extra venom into his sting.

      GEMMA [revolted] Dr Martini, what I have told you is sacred. [Martini bows] Even if Arthur were not dead, a calumny that cannot be proved — martini. — Is better than a dagger that cannot be driven home; but you are right: it is a blackguard’s weapon. At the same time — gemma [quickly] At the same time?

      MARTINI. I wish Arthur were not dead.

      GEMMA [with deep feeling] So do I. But what difference would it make to you?

      MARTINI. I think that possibly, if he were alive, your influence with him, and his influence with the Cardinal, might help us: that’s all. [A burst of applause heard within the house] Ah, that’s the end of the tenor’s song.

      GEMMA. No matter; he will sing another: at least he will be very much offended if they don’t insist on it.

      MARTINI. But won’t you come in and hear him? I’ve been selfishly keeping you out here.

      GEMMA. I am on duty here; all our friends stroll out to look at the moon.

      The centre window opens just enough to allow a man to slip through. The Gadfly appears and closes the window softly behind him.

      MARTINI. Here comes one of them. Yes: he’s СКАЧАТЬ