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

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СКАЧАТЬ at the moon as hard as he can.

      GEMMA. Hush, no. I don’t know him. The Gadfly, who has thrust his hands in his pockets and stopped to stare listlessly at the moon, comes down the steps from the terrace, kicking them discontentedly with his heels. He is as swarthy as a mulatto, and, notwithstanding his lameness, as agile as a cat. His whole personality is oddly suggestive of a black jaguar. The forehead and left cheek are terribly disfigured by the long crooked scar of an old sabre cut. He is handsome in a restless, uncomfortable way: with a tendency to foppishness in dress and a veiled insolence of expression and manner.

      Gemma moves quietly out into the light.

      He starts violently on seeing her, and puts up his hand as if to ward off a blow.

      GADFLY [hastily] You needn’t strike me again: blows don’t hurt me now.

      MARTINI [puzzled] Signore — gadfly [recovering himself] Eh? Oh, I beg your pardon. I suppose the lady is not a ghost then; I thought she was.

      MARTINI. I am happy to say that the lady is alive and in excellent health.

      GADFLY. Ah yes; that must be a curious sensation. To be in excellent health; to walk straight; to have your full allowance of fingers; and to have no bullet-holes in your lungs. I congratulate you, Signora. By the way, are you a conspirator? There are only two sorts of people in Florence at present; conspirators and spies, mostly spies; some of the latter, attractive ladies. I am a conspirator myself. Pray, which are you?

      GEMMA. I can tell you one thing more about the people of Florence at present, Signore; and that is that the gentleman who announces himself frankly as a conspirator is invariably a spy.

      GADFLY. Good. That speech is unmistakeable; you’re a conspirator. I am Felice Rivarez, alias The Gadfly, at your service. Which of us is your friend? Is he Martini?

      MARTINI. At your service.

      GEMMA. I am — gadfly. Of course you are; I know. Well, here I am to take the field against the pious Montanelli. What are the lines of battle to be, Signora? Shall I attack his theology or his personal character?

      GEMMA. His personal character is above attack.

      GADFLY. Oho! How did he take in so clever a woman as you are? But you are right: only, what you mean, I suppose, is that all these fellows, from the Sacristans to the Cardinals, are such notorious rascals that their bad characters are taken for granted. You can’t collect a crowd to see a river running down hill.

      GEMMA. Vulgar prejudice, Signor Rivarez. They say the same thing of us. Don’t make the foolish mistake of underrating your enemy.

      GADFLY. Ah, well, if Monsignor Montanelli is all you say he is, so much too good for this world that he ought to be politely escorted into the next. I am sure he would cause as great a sensation there as he has done here; there are probably many old-established ghosts who have never seen such a thing as an honest Cardinal.

      GEMMA [impatiently] Signor Rivarez, if you have only come here to talk the usual scandal about priests, and to hint at daggers and stuff of that kind, you will be of no use to us; we have only too many people of that sort. Doctor Martini, we may as well go in and listen to the tenor after all; we are wasting our time here.

      She turns her back on the Gadfly and goes, with Martini, towards the windows. There is another burst of applause. The windows are opened and the guests come out laughing and chattering about the singing. The Signora Grassini is with them in high spirits.

      SIGNORA GRASSINI [to Gemma as she comes down the steps] He sang twice for us — the darling! — though he has five more engagements this evening. And you actually stole away, Rivarez. If he had seen you he would never have forgiven me. What do you mean by such conduct?

      GADFLY. It seems wasteful and inhuman to me to set a man to make that sort of noise when a goat would do it so much better.

      SIGNORA GRASSINI. What a terrible critic you are! So cynical!

      Grassini comes from the house.

      GRASSINI. He’s gone. He went like lightning; he has fourteen other engagements. Ah, Rivarez! How are you; delighted. I saw you come in, but couldn’t get to you through the crowd round the piano. Your charming friend, Madame Zita Reni, is looking for you everywhere. She has promised to sing for us. I must tell her where you are; I promised to find you for her.

      He hurries indoors.

      GEMMA [to the Gadfly] Excuse me, Signor Rivarez; do you present Madame Zita Reni as one of our friends?

      GADFLY. Signora, I don’t present her at all. She is unpresentable.

      GEMMA. Oh nonsense, sir; I am speaking to you seriously. Please keep your wit until we have got through our business. Who is Madame Reni?

      GADFLY. An improper person at present attached to me, but not to the revolutionary cause. She would sell it, myself included, for a dozen pairs of scarlet silk stockings.

      Grassini appears on the terrace with Zita on his arm.

      She is gorgeously dressed in amber and scarlet, and looks like a tropical bird among sparrows and starlings. She is handsome with a vivid, animal, unintelligent beauty; but the perfect harmony and freedom of her movements are delightful to see. Her forehead is low and narrow, and her expression unsympathetic, almost cruel. Count Soltykov, a very young gentleman, evidently hopelessly in love with her, enters with her, dancing attendance on her; but she pays hardly any attention to him or to Grassini as she stops on the terrace, looking jealously about for the Gadfly.

      GEMMA [to the Gadfly — looking at Zita as if she were some vulgar article of luxury] Oh! You can afford that, can you? I thought you were as poor as the rest of us.

      GADFLY. So I am.

      GEMMA. Then you have spoken treacherously of that woman, or else she is a spy. If she stays with you, it must be either for money or love. If it is money, it must come from the government if it does not come from you. If it is love, you had better say so instead of making vulgar jokes about silk stockings.

      GADFLY. What a genius I have for making people despise me! Yes: she loves me enough to be most amusingly jealous. But no doubt she is paid by the government too. Most women have business faculty enough to combine pleasure with profit.

      ZITA [detecting him at last and coming down from the terrace] Monsieur Rivarez, I have been looking for you everywhere. Count Soltykov wants to know whether you can go to his villa tomorrow night, there will be dancing.

      GADFLY [spinning round so as to show his lameness]

      Dancing! How charming for me!

      ZITA [jealously] Is this lady one of your friends?

      GADFLY. She permits me to confer with her. Signora Bolla: allow me to introduce to you Madame Zita Reni.

      The women bow to one another.

      ZITA. Confer with her? What does that mean?

      GADFLY. A diplomatic expression.

      Grassini has gone into the house and returned with a mandoline.

      GRASSINI [pleadingly offering her the instrument] Will Madame Reni be persuaded?

      ZITA. СКАЧАТЬ