The Collected Plays of George Bernard Shaw - 60 Titles in One Edition (Illustrated Edition). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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СКАЧАТЬ (flatteringly). If I did —

      BOHUN (interrupting him). If you did, you would be me, instead of being what you are.

      McCOMAS (fawning on him). Of course, Bohun, your specialty —

      BOHUN (again interrupting him). My specialty is being right when other people are wrong. If you agreed with me I should be of no use here. (He nods at him to drive the point home; then turns suddenly and forcibly on Crampton.) Now you, Mr. Crampton: what point in this business have you most at heart?

      CRAMPTON (beginning slowly). I wish to put all considerations of self aside in this matter —

      BOHUN (interrupting him). So do we all, Mr. Crampton. (To Mrs. Clandon.) Y o u wish to put self aside, Mrs. Clandon?

      MRS. CLANDON. Yes: I am not consulting my own feelings in being here.

      BOHUN. So do you, Miss Clandon?

      GLORIA. Yes.

      BOHUN. I thought so. We all do.

      VALENTINE. Except me. My aims are selfish.

      BOHUN. That’s because you think an impression of sincerity will produce a better effect on Miss Clandon than an impression of disinterestedness. (Valentine, utterly dismantled and destroyed by this just remark, takes refuge in a feeble, speechless smile. Bohun, satisfied at having now effectually crushed all rebellion, throws himself back in his chair, with an air of being prepared to listen tolerantly to their grievances.) Now, Mr. Crampton, go on. It’s understood that self is put aside. Human nature always begins by saying that.

      CRAMPTON. But I mean it, sir.

      BOHUN. Quite so. Now for your point.

      CRAMPTON. Every reasonable person will admit that it’s an unselfish one — the children.

      BOHUN. Well? What about the children?

      CRAMPTON (with emotion). They have —

      BOHUN (pouncing forward again). Stop. You’re going to tell me about your feelings, Mr. Crampton. Don’t: I sympathize with them; but they’re not my business. Tell us exactly what you want: that’s what we have to get at.

      CRAMPTON (uneasily). It’s a very difficult question to answer, Mr. Bohun.

      BOHUN. Come: I’ll help you out. What do you object to in the present circumstances of the children?

      CRAMPTON. I object to the way they have been brought up.

      BOHUN. How do you propose to alter that now?

      CRAMPTON. I think they ought to dress more quietly.

      VALENTINE. Nonsense.

      BOHUN (instantly flinging himself back in his chair, outraged by the interruption). When you are done, Mr. Valentine — when you are quite done.

      VALENTINE. What’s wrong with Miss Clandon’s dress?

      CRAMPTON (hotly to Valentine). My opinion is as good as yours.

      GLORIA (warningly). Father!

      CRAMPTON (subsiding piteously). I didn’t mean you, my dear. (Pleading earnestly to Bohun.) But the two younger ones! you have not seen them, Mr. Bohun; and indeed I think you would agree with me that there is something very noticeable, something almost gay and frivolous in their style of dressing.

      MRS. CLANDON (impatiently). Do you suppose I choose their clothes for them? Really this is childish.

      CRAMPTON (furious, rising). Childish! (Mrs. Clandon rises indignantly.)

      McCOMAS } (all ris- } Crampton, you promised —

      VALENTINE } ing and } Ridiculous. They dress

      } speaking } charmingly.

      GLORIA } together). } Pray let us behave reasonably.

      Tumult. Suddenly they hear a chime of glasses in the room behind them. They turn in silent surprise and find that the waiter has just come back from the bar in the garden, and is jingling his tray warningly as he comes softly to the table with it.

      WAITER (to Crampton, setting a tumbler apart on the table). Irish for you, sir. (Crampton sits down a little shamefacedly. The waiter sets another tumbler and a syphon apart, saying to Bohun) Scotch and syphon for you, sir. (Bohun waves his hand impatiently. The waiter places a large glass jug in the middle.) And claret cup. (All subside into their seats. Peace reigns.)

      MRS. CLANDON (humbly to Bohun). I am afraid we interrupted you, Mr. Bohun.

      BOHUN (calmly). You did. (To the waiter, who is going out.) Just wait a bit.

      WAITER. Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. (He takes his stand behind Bohun’s chair.)

      MRS. CLANDON (to the waiter). You don’t mind our detaining you, I hope. Mr. Bohun wishes it.

      WAITER (now quite at his ease). Oh, no, ma’am, not at all, ma’am. It is a pleasure to me to watch the working of his trained and powerful mind — very stimulating, very entertaining and instructive indeed, ma’am.

      BOHUN (resuming command of the proceedings). Now, Mr. Crampton: we are waiting for you. Do you give up your objection to the dressing, or do you stick to it?

      CRAMPTON (pleading). Mr. Bohun: consider my position for a moment. I haven’t got myself alone to consider: there’s my sister Sophronia and my brother-in-law and all their circle. They have a great horror of anything that is at all — at all — well —

      BOHUN. Out with it. Fast? Loud? Gay?

      CRAMPTON. Not in any unprincipled sense of course; but — but — (blurting it out desperately) those two children would shock them. They’re not fit to mix with their own people. That’s what I complain of.

      MRS. CLANDON (with suppressed impatience). Mr. Valentine: do you think there is anything fast or loud about Phil and Dolly?

      VALENTINE. Certainly not. It’s utter bosh. Nothing can be in better taste.

      CRAMPTON. Oh, yes: of course you say so.

      MRS. CLANDON. William: you see a great deal of good English society. Are my children overdressed?

      WAITER (reassuringly). Oh, dear, no, ma’am. (Persuasively.) Oh, no, sir, not at all. A little pretty and tasty no doubt; but very choice and classy — very genteel and high toned indeed. Might be the son and daughter of a Dean, sir, I assure you, sir. You have only to look at them, sir, to — (At this moment a harlequin and columbine, dancing to the music of the band in the garden, which has just reached the coda of a waltz, whirl one another into the room. The harlequin’s dress is made of lozenges, an inch square, of turquoise blue silk and gold alternately. His hat is gilt and his mask turned up. The columbine’s petticoats are the epitome of a harvest field, golden orange and poppy crimson, with a tiny velvet jacket for the poppy stamens. They pass, an exquisite and dazzling apparition, between McComas and Bohun, and then back in a circle to the end of the table, where, as the final chord of the waltz is struck, they make a tableau in the СКАЧАТЬ