Man and Superman and Three Other Plays (22 page)

BURGESS [
patronizingly
] Oh, good morning to you. [
MORELL returns as LEXY is making for the door.]

MORELL
[to LEXY
] Off to work?

LEXY Yes, sir.

MORELL
[patting him affectionately on the shoulder]
Take my silk handkerchief and wrap your throat up. There's a cold wind. Away with you.
[LEXY brightens up, and goes out.
]

BURGESS Spoilin' your curates, as usu‘l, James. Good mornin'. When I pay a man, an' ‘is livin' depen's on me, I keep him in his place.

MORELL
[rather shortly]
I always keep my curates in their places as my helpers and comrades. If you get as much work out of your clerks and warehousemen as I do out of my curates, you must be getting rich pretty fast. Will you take your old chair?
[He points with curt authority to the armchair beside the fireplace; then takes the spare chair from the table and sits down in front of BURGESS.
]

BURGESS
[without moving]
Just the same as hever, James!

MORELL When you last called—it was about three years ago, I think—you said the same thing a little more frankly. Your exact words then were: “Just as big a fool as ever, James?”
⁶

BURGESS
[soothingly]
Well, perhaps I did; but
[with conciliatory cheerfulness
] I meant no offence by it. A clorgyman is privileged to be a bit of a fool, you know: it's on‘y becomin' in his profession that he should. Anyhow, I come here, not to rake up hold differences, but to let bygones be bygones.
[Suddenly becoming very solemn, and approaching MORELL.]
James: three year ago, you done me a hill turn. You done me hout of a contrac'; an' when I gev you ‘arsh words in my nat'ral disappointment, you, turned my daughrter again me. Well, I've come to act the part of a Cherischin.
^ai
[
Offering his hand.]
I forgive you, James.

MORELL
[starting up]
Confound your impudence!

BURGESS
[retreating, with almost lachrymose deprecation of this treatment]
Is that becomin' language for a clorgyman, James?—and you so partic‘lar, too?

MORELL
[hotly]
No, sir, it is not becoming language for a clergyman. I used the wrong word. I should have said damn your impudence : that's what St. Paul, or any honest priest would have said to you. Do you think I have forgotten that tender of yours for the contract to supply clothing to the workhouse?

BURGESS [
in a paroxysm of public spirit]
I acted in the interest of the ratepayers, James. It was the lowest tender:
^aj
you can't deny that.

MORELL Yes, the lowest, because you paid worse wages than any other employer—starvation wages—aye, worse than starvation wages—to the women who made the clothing. Your wages would have driven them to the streets to keep body and soul together.
[Getting angrier and angrier.
] Those women were my parishioners. I shamed the Guardians out of accepting your tender : I shamed the ratepayers out of letting them do it: I shamed everybody but you.
[Boiling over.
] How dare you, sir, come here and offer to forgive me, and talk about your daughter, and—

BURGESS Easy, James, easy, easy. Don't git hinto a fluster about nothink. I've howned I was wrong.

MORELL [
fuming about
] Have you? I didn't hear you.

BURGESS Of course I did. I hown it now. Come: I harsk your pardon for the letter I wrote you. Is that enough?

MORELL
[snapping his fingers
] That's nothing. Have you raised the wages?

BURGESS
[triumphantly]
Yes.

MORELL
[stopping dead]
What!

BURGESS [
unctuousty
] I've turned a moddle hemployer. I don't hemploy no women now: they're all sacked; and the work is done by machinery. Not a man ‘as less than sixpence a hour; and the skilled 'ands gits the Trade Union rate. [
Proudly.
] What ‘ave you to say to me now?

MORELL
[overwhelmed]
Is it possible! Well, there's more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth—
[Going to BURGESS with an explosion of apologetic cordiality.]
My dear Burgess, I most heartily beg your pardon for my hard thoughts of you.
[Grasps his hand.]
And now, don't you feel the better for the change? Come, confess, you're happier. You look happier.

BURGESS
[ ruefully]
Well, p‘raps I do. I s'pose I must, since you notice it. At all events, I git my contrax asseppit [accepted] by the County Council.
[Savagely.]
They dussent ‘ave nothink to do with me unless I paid fair wages—curse 'em for a parcel o' meddlin' fools!

MORELL
[dropping his hand, utterly discouraged]
So that was why you raised the wages!
[He sits down moodily.
]

BURGESS
[severely,
in spreading, mounting tones] Why else should I do it? What does it lead to but drink and huppishness in workin' men?
[He seats himself magisterially in the easy chair.]
It's hall very well for you, James: it gits you hinto the papers and makes a great man of you; but you never think of the ‘arm you do, puttin' money into the pockets of workin' men that they don't know 'ow to spend, and takin' it from people that might be makin' a good huse on it.

MORELL [
with a heavy sigh, speaking with cold politeness
] What is your business with me this morning? I shall not pretend to believe that you are here merely out of family sentiment.

BURGESS [
obstinately
] Yes, I ham—just family sentiment and nothink else.

MORELL
[with weary calm]
I don't believe you!

BURGESS
[rising threateningly]
Don't say that to me again, James Mavor Morell.

MORELL
[unmoved]
I'll say it just as often as may be necessary to convince you that it's true. I don't believe you.

BURGESS
[collapsing into an abyss of wounded feeling]
Oh, well, if you're determined to be unfriendly, I s‘pose I'd better go.
[He moves reluctantly towards the door. MORELL makes no sign. He lingers.]
I didn't hexpect to find a hunforgivin' spirit in you, James.
[MORELL still not responding, he takes a few more reluctant steps door-wards. Then he comes back whining.]
We huseter git on well enough, spite of our different opinions. Why are you so changed to me? I give you my word I come here in pyorr [pure] frenliness, not wishin' to be on bad terms with my hown daughrter's 'usban'. Come, James: be a Cheristhin and shake 'ands.
[He puts his hand sentimentally on MORELL's shoulder.]

MORELL
[looking up at him thoughtfully]
Look here, Burgess. Do you want to be as welcome here as you were before you lost that contract?

BURGESS I do, James.
I do—honest.

M0RELL Then why don't you behave as you did then?

BURGESS
[cautiously removing his hand]
‘Ow d'y'mean?

MORELL I'll tell you. You thought me a young fool then.

BURGESS
[coaxingly]
No, I didn‘t, James. I—

MORELL
[cutting him short]
Yes, you did. And I thought you an old scoundrel.

BURGESS
[most vehemently deprecating this gross self-accusation on MORELL's part]
No, you didn‘t, James. Now you do yourself a hinjustice.

MORELL Yes, I did. Well, that did not prevent our getting on very well together. God made you what I call a scoundrel as he made me what you call a fool.
[The effect of this observation on BURGESS is to remove the keystone of his moral arch. He becomes bodily weak, and, with his eyes fixed on MORELL in a helpless stare, puts out his hand apprehensively to balance himself, as if the, floor had suddenly sloped under him. MORELL proceeds in the same tone of quiet conviction.]
It was not for me to quarrel with his handiwork in the one case more than in the other. So long as you come here honestly as a self-respecting, thorough, convinced scoundrel, justifying your scoundrelism, and proud of it, you are welcome. But
[and now MORELL's tone becomes formidable; and he rises and strikes the back of the chair for greater emphasis]
I won't have you here snivelling about being a model employer and a converted man when you're only an apostate with your coat turned for the sake of a County Council contract.
[He nods at him to enforce the point; then goes to the hearth-rug, where he takes up a comfortably commanding position with his back to the fire, and continues]
No: I like a man to be true to himself, even in wickedness. Come now: either take your hat and go; or else sit down and give me a good scoundrelly reason for wanting to be friends with me.
[BURGESS, whose emotions have subsided sufficiently to be expressed by a dazed grin, is relieved by this concrete proposition. He ponders it for a moment, and then, slowly and very modestly, sits down in the chair MORELL has just left.
]
⁷
That's right. Now, out with it.

BURGESS
[chuckling in spite of himself ]
Well, you a r e a queer bird, James, and no mistake. But
[almost enthusiastically]
one carnt ‘elp likin' you; besides, as I said afore, of course one don't take all a clorgyman says seriously, or the world couldn't go on. Could it now?
[He composes himself for graver discourse, and turning his eyes on MORELL proceeds with dull seriousness.]
Well, I don't mind tellin' you, since it's your wish we should be free with one another, that I did think you a bit of a fool once; but I'm begin nin' to think that p'r‘aps I was be'ind the times a bit.

MORELL
[delighted]
Aha! You're finding that out at last, are you?

BURGESS
[portentously]
Yes, times ‘as changed mor'n I could a believed. Five yorr (year) ago, no sensible man would a thought o' takin' up with your ideas. I hused to wonder you was let preach at all. Why, I know a clorgyman that 'as bin kep' hout of his job for yorrs by the Bishop of London, although the pore feller's not a bit more religious than you are. But to-day, if heny one was to offer to bet me a thousan' poun' that you'll end by bein' a bishop yourself, I shouldn't venture to take the bet. You and yore crew are gettin' hinfluential: I can see that. They'll ‘ave to give you something someday, if it's only to stop yore mouth. You 'ad the right instinc' arter all, James: the line you took is the payin' line in the long run fur a man o' your sort.

MORELL [
decisively
—
offeringhis hand]
Shake hands, Burgess. Now you're talking honestly. I don't think they'll make me a bishop; but if they do, I'll introduce you to the biggest jobbers I can get to come to my dinner parties.

BURGESS
[who has risen with a sheepish grin and accepted the hand of friendship]
You will ‘ave your joke, James. Our quarrel's made up now, isn't it?

A WOMAN'S VOICE Say yes, James.
⁸

MORELL
[shocked at his remissness]
Candida! Why—
[looks at his watch, and is horrified to find it so late.
My darling! [
Hurrying to her and seizing the rug strap, pouring forth his remorseful regrets all the time.
] I intended to meet you at the train. I let the time slip.
[Flinging the rug on the sofa.]
I was so engrossed by—[
returningto her
]—I forgot—oh!
[He embraces her with penitent emotion.]

BURGESS
[a little shamefaced and doubtful of his reception]
How orr you, Candy?
[She, still in MORELL's arms, offers him her cheek, which he kisses.]
James and me is come to a unnerstandin‘—a honourable unnerstandin'. Ain' we, James?

MORELL
[impetuously]
Oh, bother your understanding! You've kept me late for Candida.
[With compassionate fervor.]
My poor love: how did you manage about the luggage?—how—

CANDIDA [
stopping him and disengaging herself
] There, there, there. I wasn't alone. Eugene came down yesterday; and we traveled up together.

MORELL
[pleased]
Eugene!

CANDIDA Yes: he's struggling with my luggage, poor boy. Go out, dear, at once; or he will pay for the cab; and I don't want that.
[MORELL hurries out. CANDIDA puts down her handbag; then takes off her mantle and bonnet and puts them on the sofa with the rug, chatting meanwhile.]
Well, papa, how are you getting on at home?

BURGESS The ‘ouse ain't worth livin' in since you left it, Candy. I wish you'd come round and give the gurl a talkin' to. Who's this Eugene that's come with you?