The Essential Plays of George Bernard Shaw (Illustrated Edition). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

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      PAGE BOY (outside as before). Dr. Paramore, Dr. Paramore, Dr. Paramore —

      SYLVIA. They ought to get that boy’s voice properly cultivated: it’s a disgrace to the club. (She goes into the recess on Ibsen’s left. The page enters carrying the British Medical Journal.)

      CHARTERIS (calling to the page). Dr. Paramore is in the dining room.

      PAGE BOY. Thank you, sir. (He is about to go into the dining room when Sylvia swoops on him.)

      SYLVIA. Here: where are you taking that paper? It belongs to this room.

      PAGE BOY. It’s Dr. Paramore’s particular orders, miss. The British Medical Journal has always to be brought to him dreckly it comes.

      SYLVIA. What cheek? Charteris: oughtn’t we to stop this on principle?

      CHARTERIS. Certainly not. Principle’s the poorest reason I know for making yourself nasty.

      SYLVIA. Bosh! Ibsen!

      CHARTERIS (to the page). Off with you, my boy: Dr. Paramore’s waiting breathless with expectation.

      PAGE BOY (seriously). Indeed, sir. (He hurries off.)

      CHARTERIS. That boy will make his way in this country. He has no sense of humour. (Grace comes in. Her dress, very convenient and businesslike, is made to please herself and serve her own purposes without the slightest regard to fashion, though by no means without a careful concern for her personal elegance. She enters briskly, like an habitually busy woman.)

      SYLVIA (running to her). Here you are at last Tranfield, old girl. I’ve been waiting for you this last hour. I’m starving.

      GRACE. All right, dear. (To Charteris.) Did you get my letter?

      CHARTERIS. Yes. I wish you wouldn’t write on those confounded blue letter cards.

      SYLVIA (to Grace). Shall I go down first and secure a table?

      CHARTERIS (taking the reply out of Grace’s mouth). Do, old boy.

      SYLVIA. Don’t be too long. (She goes into the dining room.)

      GRACE. Well?

      CHARTERIS. I’m afraid to face you after last night. Can you imagine a more horrible scene? Don’t you hate the very sight of me after it?

      GRACE. Oh, no.

      CHARTERIS. Then you ought to. Ugh! it was hideous — an insult — an outrage. A nice end to all my plans for making you happy — for making you an exception to all the women who swear I have made them miserable!

      GRACE (sitting down placidly). I am not at all miserable. I’m sorry; but I shan’t break my heart.

      CHARTERIS. No: yours is a thoroughbred heart: you don’t scream and cry every time it’s pinched. That’s why you are the only possible woman for me.

      GRACE (shaking her head). Not now. Never any more.

      CHARTERIS. Never! What do you mean?

      GRACE. What I say, Leonard.

      CHARTERIS. Jilted again! The fickleness of women I love is only equaled by the infernal constancy of the women who love me. Well, well! I see how it is, Grace: you can’t get over that horrible scene last night. Imagine her saying I had kissed her within the last two days!

      GRACE (rising eagerly). Was that not true?

      CHARTERIS. True! No: a thumping lie.

      GRACE. Oh, I’m so glad. That was the only thing that really hurt me.

      CHARTERIS. Just why she said it. How adorable of you to care! My darling. (He seizes her hands and presses them to his breast.)

      GRACE. Remember! it’s all broken off.

      CHARTERIS. Ah yes: you have my heart in your hands. Break it. Throw my happiness out of the window.

      GRACE. Oh, Leonard, does your happiness really depend on me?

      CHARTERIS (tenderly). Absolutely. (She beams with delight. A sudden revulsion comes to him at the sight: he recoils, dropping her hands and crying) Ah no: why should I lie to you? (He folds his arms and adds firmly) My happiness depends on nobody but myself. I can do without you.

      GRACE (nerving herself). So you shall. Thank you for the truth. Now I will tell you the truth.

      CHARTERIS (unfolding his arms and again recoiling). No, please. Don’t. As a philosopher, it’s my business to tell other people the truth; but it’s not their business to tell it to me. I don’t like it: it hurts.

      GRACE (quietly). It’s only that I love you.

      CHARTERIS. Ah! that’s not a philosophic truth. You may tell me that as often as you like. (He takes her in his arms.)

      GRACE. Yes, Leonard; but I’m an advanced woman. (He checks himself and looks at her in some consternation.) I’m what my father calls a New Woman. (He lets her go and stares at her.) I quite agree with all your ideas.

      CHARTERIS (scandalized). That’s a nice thing for a respectable woman to say! You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

      GRACE. I am quite in earnest about them too, though you are not; and I will never marry a man I love too much. It would give him a terrible advantage over me: I should be utterly in his power. That’s what the New Woman is like. Isn’t she right, Mr. Philosopher?

      CHARTERIS. The struggle between the Philosopher and the Man is fearful, Grace. But the Philosopher says you are right.

      GRACE. I know I am right. And so we must part.

      CHARTERIS. Not at all. You must marry some one else; and then I’ll come and philander with you. (Sylvia comes back.)

      SYLVIA (holding the door open). Oh, I say: come along. I’m starving.

      CHARTERIS. So am I. I’ll lunch with you if I may.

      SYLVIA. I thought you would. I’ve ordered soup for three. (Grace passes out. Sylvia continues, to Charteris) You can watch Paramore from our table: he’s pretending to read the British Medical Journal; but he must be making up his mind for the plunge: he looks green with nervousness.

      CHARTERIS. Good luck to him. (He goes out, followed by Sylvia.)

      ACT III

       Table of Contents

      Still the library. Ten minutes later. Julia, angry and miserable, comes in from the dining room, followed by Craven. She crosses the room tormentedly, and throws herself into a chair.

      CRAVEN (impatiently). What is the matter? Has everyone gone mad to-day? What do you mean by suddenly getting up from the table and tearing away СКАЧАТЬ