LADY UTTERWORD [vigorously]. Oh, let us prosecute him and have done with
it. I have a conscience too, I hope; and I do not feel at all sure that
we have any right to let him go, especially if he is going to be greedy
and impertinent.

THE BURGLAR [quickly]. All right, lady, all right. I've no wish to be
anything but agreeable. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen; and thank
you kindly.

He is hurrying out when he is confronted in the doorway by Captain
Shotover.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [fixing the burglar with a piercing regard]. What's
this? Are there two of you?

THE BURGLAR [falling on his knees before the captain in abject terror].
Oh, my good Lord, what have I done? Don't tell me it's your house I've
broken into, Captain Shotover.

The captain seizes him by the collar: drags him to his feet: and leads
him to the middle of the group, Hector falling back beside his wife to
make way for them.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [turning him towards Ellie]. Is that your daughter? [He
releases him].

THE BURGLAR. Well, how do I know, Captain? You know the sort of life you
and me has led. Any young lady of that age might be my daughter anywhere
in the wide world, as you might say.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [to Mazzini]. You are not Billy Dunn. This is Billy
Dunn. Why have you imposed on me?

THE BURGLAR [indignantly to Mazzini]. Have you been giving yourself
out to be me? You, that nigh blew my head off! Shooting yourself, in a
manner of speaking!

MAZZINI. My dear Captain Shotover, ever since I came into this house I
have done hardly anything else but assure you that I am not Mr William
Dunn, but Mazzini Dunn, a very different person.

THE BURGLAR. He don't belong to my branch, Captain. There's two sets in
the family: the thinking Dunns and the drinking Dunns, each going their
own ways. I'm a drinking Dunn: he's a thinking Dunn. But that didn't
give him any right to shoot me.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. So you've turned burglar, have you?

THE BURGLAR. No, Captain: I wouldn't disgrace our old sea calling by
such a thing. I am no burglar.

LADY UTTERWORD. What were you doing with my diamonds?

GUINNESS. What did you break into the house for if you're no burglar?

RANDALL. Mistook the house for your own and came in by the wrong window,
eh?

THE BURGLAR. Well, it's no use my telling you a lie: I can take in most
captains, but not Captain Shotover, because he sold himself to the devil
in Zanzibar, and can divine water, spot gold, explode a cartridge in
your pocket with a glance of his eye, and see the truth hidden in the
heart of man. But I'm no burglar.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Are you an honest man?

THE BURGLAR. I don't set up to be better than my fellow-creatures, and
never did, as you well know, Captain. But what I do is innocent and
pious. I enquire about for houses where the right sort of people live. I
work it on them same as I worked it here. I break into the house; put a
few spoons or diamonds in my pocket; make a noise; get caught; and take
up a collection. And you wouldn't believe how hard it is to get caught
when you're actually trying to. I have knocked over all the chairs in a
room without a soul paying any attention to me. In the end I have had to
walk out and leave the job.

RANDALL. When that happens, do you put back the spoons and diamonds?

THE BURGLAR. Well, I don't fly in the face of Providence, if that's what
you want to know.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Guinness, you remember this man?

GUINNESS. I should think I do, seeing I was married to him, the
blackguard!

HESIONE } [exclaiming { Married to him! LADY UTTERWORD } together] {
Guinness!!

THE BURGLAR. It wasn't legal. I've been married to no end of women. No
use coming that over me.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Take him to the forecastle [he flings him to the door
with a strength beyond his years].

GUINNESS. I suppose you mean the kitchen. They won't have him there. Do
you expect servants to keep company with thieves and all sorts?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Land-thieves and water-thieves are the same flesh and
blood. I'll have no boatswain on my quarter-deck. Off with you both.

THE BURGLAR. Yes, Captain. [He goes out humbly].

MAZZINI. Will it be safe to have him in the house like that?

GUINNESS. Why didn't you shoot him, sir? If I'd known who he was, I'd
have shot him myself. [She goes out].

MRS HUSHABYE. Do sit down, everybody. [She sits down on the sofa].

They all move except Ellie. Mazzini resumes his seat. Randall sits down
in the window-seat near the starboard door, again making a pendulum of
his poker, and studying it as Galileo might have done. Hector sits on
his left, in the middle. Mangan, forgotten, sits in the port corner.
Lady Utterword takes the big chair. Captain Shotover goes into the
pantry in deep abstraction. They all look after him: and Lady Utterword
coughs consciously.

MRS HUSHABYE. So Billy Dunn was poor nurse's little romance. I knew
there had been somebody.

RANDALL. They will fight their battles over again and enjoy themselves
immensely.

LADY UTTERWORD [irritably]. You are not married; and you know nothing
about it, Randall. Hold your tongue.

RANDALL. Tyrant!

MRS HUSHABYE. Well, we have had a very exciting evening. Everything will
be an anticlimax after it. We'd better all go to bed.

RANDALL. Another burglar may turn up.

MAZZINI. Oh, impossible! I hope not.

RANDALL. Why not? There is more than one burglar in England.

MRS HUSHABYE. What do you say, Alf?

MANGAN [huffily]. Oh, I don't matter. I'm forgotten. The burglar has put
my nose out of joint. Shove me into a corner and have done with me.

MRS HUSHABYE [jumping up mischievously, and going to him]. Would you
like a walk on the heath, Alfred? With me?

ELLIE. Go, Mr Mangan. It will do you good. Hesione will soothe you.

MRS HUSHABYE [slipping her arm under his and pulling him upright]. Come,
Alfred. There is a moon: it's like the night in Tristan and Isolde. [She
caresses his arm and draws him to the port garden door].

MANGAN [writhing but yielding]. How you can have the face-the heart-[he
breaks down and is heard sobbing as she takes him out].

LADY UTTERWORD. What an extraordinary way to behave! What is the matter
with the man?

ELLIE [in a strangely calm voice, staring into an imaginary distance].
His heart is breaking: that is all. [The captain appears at the pantry
door, listening]. It is a curious sensation: the sort of pain that goes
mercifully beyond our powers of feeling. When your heart is broken, your
boats are burned: nothing matters any more. It is the end of happiness
and the beginning of peace.

LADY UTTERWORD [suddenly rising in a rage, to the astonishment of the
rest]. How dare you?

HECTOR. Good heavens! What's the matter?

RANDALL [in a warning whisper]. Tch--tch-tch! Steady.

ELLIE [surprised and haughty]. I was not addressing you particularly,
Lady Utterword. And I am not accustomed to being asked how dare I.

LADY UTTERWORD. Of course not. Anyone can see how badly you have been
brought up.

MAZZINI. Oh, I hope not, Lady Utterword. Really!

LADY UTTERWORD. I know very well what you meant. The impudence!

ELLIE. What on earth do you mean?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [advancing to the table]. She means that her heart will
not break. She has been longing all her life for someone to break it. At
last she has become afraid she has none to break.

LADY UTTERWORD [flinging herself on her knees and throwing her arms
round him]. Papa, don't say you think I've no heart.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [raising her with grim tenderness]. If you had no heart
how could you want to have it broken, child?

HECTOR [rising with a bound]. Lady Utterword, you are not to be trusted.
You have made a scene [he runs out into the garden through the starboard
door].

LADY UTTERWORD. Oh! Hector, Hector! [she runs out after him].

RANDALL. Only nerves, I assure you. [He rises and follows her, waving
the poker in his agitation]. Ariadne! Ariadne! For God's sake, be
careful. You will--[he is gone].

MAZZINI [rising]. How distressing! Can I do anything, I wonder?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [promptly taking his chair and setting to work at the
drawing-board]. No. Go to bed. Good-night.

MAZZINI [bewildered]. Oh! Perhaps you are right.

ELLIE. Good-night, dearest. [She kisses him].

MAZZINI. Good-night, love. [He makes for the door, but turns aside to
the bookshelves]. I'll just take a book [he takes one]. Good-night. [He
goes out, leaving Ellie alone with the captain].

The captain is intent on his drawing. Ellie, standing sentry over his
chair, contemplates him for a moment.

ELLIE. Does nothing ever disturb you, Captain Shotover?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I've stood on the bridge for eighteen hours in a
typhoon. Life here is stormier; but I can stand it.

ELLIE. Do you think I ought to marry Mr Mangan?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [never looking up]. One rock is as good as another to
be wrecked on.

ELLIE. I am not in love with him.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Who said you were?

ELLIE. You are not surprised?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Surprised! At my age!

ELLIE. It seems to me quite fair. He wants me for one thing: I want him
for another.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Money?

ELLIE. Yes.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Well, one turns the cheek: the other kisses it. One
provides the cash: the other spends it.

ELLIE. Who will have the best of the bargain, I wonder?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. You. These fellows live in an office all day. You will
have to put up with him from dinner to breakfast; but you will both be
asleep most of that time. All day you will be quit of him; and you
will be shopping with his money. If that is too much for you, marry a
seafaring man: you will be bothered with him only three weeks in the
year, perhaps.

ELLIE. That would be best of all, I suppose.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It's a dangerous thing to be married right up to the
hilt, like my daughter's husband. The man is at home all day, like a
damned soul in hell.

ELLIE. I never thought of that before.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. If you're marrying for business, you can't be too
businesslike.

ELLIE. Why do women always want other women's husbands?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Why do horse-thieves prefer a horse that is broken-in
to one that is wild?

ELLIE [with a short laugh]. I suppose so. What a vile world it is!

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It doesn't concern me. I'm nearly out of it.

ELLIE. And I'm only just beginning.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Yes; so look ahead.

ELLIE. Well, I think I am being very prudent.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I didn't say prudent. I said look ahead.

ELLIE. What's the difference?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It's prudent to gain the whole world and lose your own
soul. But don't forget that your soul sticks to you if you stick to it;
but the world has a way of slipping through your fingers.

ELLIE [wearily, leaving him and beginning to wander restlessly about the
room]. I'm sorry, Captain Shotover; but it's no use talking like that
to me. Old-fashioned people are no use to me. Old-fashioned people think
you can have a soul without money. They think the less money you have,
the more soul you have. Young people nowadays know better. A soul is a
very expensive thing to keep: much more so than a motor car.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Is it? How much does your soul eat?

ELLIE. Oh, a lot. It eats music and pictures and books and mountains and
lakes and beautiful things to wear and nice people to be with. In this
country you can't have them without lots of money: that is why our souls
are so horribly starved.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Mangan's soul lives on pig's food.

ELLIE. Yes: money is thrown away on him. I suppose his soul was starved
when he was young. But it will not be thrown away on me. It is just
because I want to save my soul that I am marrying for money. All the
women who are not fools do.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. There are other ways of getting money. Why don't you
steal it?

ELLIE. Because I don't want to go to prison.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Is that the only reason? Are you quite sure honesty
has nothing to do with it?

ELLIE. Oh, you are very very old-fashioned, Captain. Does any modern
girl believe that the legal and illegal ways of getting money are the
honest and dishonest ways? Mangan robbed my father and my father's
friends. I should rob all the money back from Mangan if the police would
let me. As they won't, I must get it back by marrying him.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I can't argue: I'm too old: my mind is made up and
finished. All I can tell you is that, old-fashioned or new-fashioned,
if you sell yourself, you deal your soul a blow that all the books and
pictures and concerts and scenery in the world won't heal [he gets up
suddenly and makes for the pantry].

ELLIE [running after him and seizing him by the sleeve]. Then why did
you sell yourself to the devil in Zanzibar?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [stopping, startled]. What?

ELLIE. You shall not run away before you answer. I have found out that
trick of yours. If you sold yourself, why shouldn't I?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I had to deal with men so degraded that they wouldn't
obey me unless I swore at them and kicked them and beat them with my
fists. Foolish people took young thieves off the streets; flung them
into a training ship where they were taught to fear the cane instead of
fearing God; and thought they'd made men and sailors of them by private
subscription. I tricked these thieves into believing I'd sold myself
to the devil. It saved my soul from the kicking and swearing that was
damning me by inches.

ELLIE [releasing him]. I shall pretend to sell myself to Boss Mangan to
save my soul from the poverty that is damning me by inches.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Riches will damn you ten times deeper. Riches won't
save even your body.

ELLIE. Old-fashioned again. We know now that the soul is the body, and
the body the soul. They tell us they are different because they want to
persuade us that we can keep our souls if we let them make slaves of our
bodies. I am afraid you are no use to me, Captain.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What did you expect? A Savior, eh? Are you
old-fashioned enough to believe in that?

ELLIE. No. But I thought you were very wise, and might help me. Now I
have found you out. You pretend to be busy, and think of fine things to
say, and run in and out to surprise people by saying them, and get away
before they can answer you.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It confuses me to be answered. It discourages me. I
cannot bear men and women. I have to run away. I must run away now [he
tries to].

ELLIE [again seizing his arm]. You shall not run away from me. I can
hypnotize you. You are the only person in the house I can say what I
like to. I know you are fond of me. Sit down. [She draws him to the
sofa].

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [yielding]. Take care: I am in my dotage. Old men are
dangerous: it doesn't matter to them what is going to happen to the
world.

They sit side by side on the sofa. She leans affectionately against him
with her head on his shoulder and her eyes half closed.

ELLIE [dreamily]. I should have thought nothing else mattered to
old men. They can't be very interested in what is going to happen to
themselves.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. A man's interest in the world is only the overflow
from his interest in himself. When you are a child your vessel is not
yet full; so you care for nothing but your own affairs. When you grow
up, your vessel overflows; and you are a politician, a philosopher, or
an explorer and adventurer. In old age the vessel dries up: there is
no overflow: you are a child again. I can give you the memories of my
ancient wisdom: mere scraps and leavings; but I no longer really care
for anything but my own little wants and hobbies. I sit here working
out my old ideas as a means of destroying my fellow-creatures. I see my
daughters and their men living foolish lives of romance and sentiment
and snobbery. I see you, the younger generation, turning from their
romance and sentiment and snobbery to money and comfort and hard common
sense. I was ten times happier on the bridge in the typhoon, or frozen
into Arctic ice for months in darkness, than you or they have ever been.
You are looking for a rich husband. At your age I looked for hardship,
danger, horror, and death, that I might feel the life in me more
intensely. I did not let the fear of death govern my life; and my reward
was, I had my life. You are going to let the fear of poverty govern your
life; and your reward will be that you will eat, but you will not live.

ELLIE [sitting up impatiently]. But what can I do? I am not a sea
captain: I can't stand on bridges in typhoons, or go slaughtering
seals and whales in Greenland's icy mountains. They won't let women be
captains. Do you want me to be a stewardess?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. There are worse lives. The stewardesses could come
ashore if they liked; but they sail and sail and sail.

ELLIE. What could they do ashore but marry for money? I don't want to be
a stewardess: I am too bad a sailor. Think of something else for me.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I can't think so long and continuously. I am too old.
I must go in and out. [He tries to rise].

ELLIE [pulling him back]. You shall not. You are happy here, aren't you?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I tell you it's dangerous to keep me. I can't keep
awake and alert.

ELLIE. What do you run away for? To sleep?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No. To get a glass of rum.

ELLIE [frightfully disillusioned]. Is that it? How disgusting! Do you
like being drunk?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No: I dread being drunk more than anything in the
world. To be drunk means to have dreams; to go soft; to be easily
pleased and deceived; to fall into the clutches of women. Drink does
that for you when you are young. But when you are old: very very old,
like me, the dreams come by themselves. You don't know how terrible that
is: you are young: you sleep at night only, and sleep soundly. But later
on you will sleep in the afternoon. Later still you will sleep even in
the morning; and you will awake tired, tired of life. You will never be
free from dozing and dreams; the dreams will steal upon your work every
ten minutes unless you can awaken yourself with rum. I drink now to keep
sober; but the dreams are conquering: rum is not what it was: I have
had ten glasses since you came; and it might be so much water. Go get me
another: Guinness knows where it is. You had better see for yourself the
horror of an old man drinking.

ELLIE. You shall not drink. Dream. I like you to dream. You must never
be in the real world when we talk together.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I am too weary to resist, or too weak. I am in my
second childhood. I do not see you as you really are. I can't remember
what I really am. I feel nothing but the accursed happiness I have
dreaded all my life long: the happiness that comes as life goes, the
happiness of yielding and dreaming instead of resisting and doing, the
sweetness of the fruit that is going rotten.

ELLIE. You dread it almost as much as I used to dread losing my dreams
and having to fight and do things. But that is all over for me: my
dreams are dashed to pieces. I should like to marry a very old, very
rich man. I should like to marry you. I had much rather marry you than
marry Mangan. Are you very rich?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No. Living from hand to mouth. And I have a wife
somewhere in Jamaica: a black one. My first wife. Unless she's dead.

ELLIE. What a pity! I feel so happy with you. [She takes his hand,
almost unconsciously, and pats it]. I thought I should never feel happy
again.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Why?

ELLIE. Don't you know?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No.

ELLIE. Heartbreak. I fell in love with Hector, and didn't know he was
married.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Heartbreak? Are you one of those who are so sufficient
to themselves that they are only happy when they are stripped of
everything, even of hope?

ELLIE [gripping the hand]. It seems so; for I feel now as if there was
nothing I could not do, because I want nothing.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. That's the only real strength. That's genius. That's
better than rum.

ELLIE [throwing away his hand]. Rum! Why did you spoil it?

Hector and Randall come in from the garden through the starboard door.

HECTOR. I beg your pardon. We did not know there was anyone here.

ELLIE [rising]. That means that you want to tell Mr Randall the story
about the tiger. Come, Captain: I want to talk to my father; and you had
better come with me.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [rising]. Nonsense! the man is in bed.

ELLIE. Aha! I've caught you. My real father has gone to bed; but the
father you gave me is in the kitchen. You knew quite well all along.
Come. [She draws him out into the garden with her through the port
door].

HECTOR. That's an extraordinary girl. She has the Ancient Mariner on a
string like a Pekinese dog.

RANDALL. Now that they have gone, shall we have a friendly chat?

HECTOR. You are in what is supposed to be my house. I am at your
disposal.

Hector sits down in the draughtsman's chair, turning it to face Randall,
who remains standing, leaning at his ease against the carpenter's bench.

RANDALL. I take it that we may be quite frank. I mean about Lady
Utterword.

HECTOR. You may. I have nothing to be frank about. I never met her until
this afternoon.

RANDALL [straightening up]. What! But you are her sister's husband.

HECTOR. Well, if you come to that, you are her husband's brother.

RANDALL. But you seem to be on intimate terms with her.

HECTOR. So do you.

RANDALL. Yes: but I AM on intimate terms with her. I have known her for
years.

HECTOR. It took her years to get to the same point with you that she got
to with me in five minutes, it seems.

RANDALL [vexed]. Really, Ariadne is the limit [he moves away huffishly
towards the windows].

HECTOR [coolly]. She is, as I remarked to Hesione, a very enterprising
woman.

RANDALL [returning, much troubled]. You see, Hushabye, you are what
women consider a good-looking man.

HECTOR. I cultivated that appearance in the days of my vanity; and
Hesione insists on my keeping it up. She makes me wear these ridiculous
things [indicating his Arab costume] because she thinks me absurd in
evening dress.

RANDALL. Still, you do keep it up, old chap. Now, I assure you I have
not an atom of jealousy in my disposition.

HECTOR. The question would seem to be rather whether your brother has
any touch of that sort.

RANDALL. What! Hastings! Oh, don't trouble about Hastings. He has the
gift of being able to work sixteen hours a day at the dullest detail,
and actually likes it. That gets him to the top wherever he goes. As
long as Ariadne takes care that he is fed regularly, he is only too
thankful to anyone who will keep her in good humor for him.

HECTOR. And as she has all the Shotover fascination, there is plenty of
competition for the job, eh?

RANDALL [angrily]. She encourages them. Her conduct is perfectly
scandalous. I assure you, my dear fellow, I haven't an atom of jealousy
in my composition; but she makes herself the talk of every place she
goes to by her thoughtlessness. It's nothing more: she doesn't really
care for the men she keeps hanging about her; but how is the world to
know that? It's not fair to Hastings. It's not fair to me.

HECTOR. Her theory is that her conduct is so correct

RANDALL. Correct! She does nothing but make scenes from morning till
night. You be careful, old chap. She will get you into trouble: that is,
she would if she really cared for you.

HECTOR. Doesn't she?

RANDALL. Not a scrap. She may want your scalp to add to her collection;
but her true affection has been engaged years ago. You had really better
be careful.

HECTOR. Do you suffer much from this jealousy?

RANDALL. Jealousy! I jealous! My dear fellow, haven't I told you that
there is not an atom of--

HECTOR. Yes. And Lady Utterword told me she never made scenes. Well,
don't waste your jealousy on my moustache. Never waste jealousy on a
real man: it is the imaginary hero that supplants us all in the long
run. Besides, jealousy does not belong to your easy man-of-the-world
pose, which you carry so well in other respects.

RANDALL. Really, Hushabye, I think a man may be allowed to be a
gentleman without being accused of posing.

HECTOR. It is a pose like any other. In this house we know all the
poses: our game is to find out the man under the pose. The man under
your pose is apparently Ellie's favorite, Othello.

RANDALL. Some of your games in this house are damned annoying, let me
tell you.

HECTOR. Yes: I have been their victim for many years. I used to writhe
under them at first; but I became accustomed to them. At last I learned
to play them.

RANDALL. If it's all the same to you I had rather you didn't play them
on me. You evidently don't quite understand my character, or my notions
of good form.

HECTOR. Is it your notion of good form to give away Lady Utterword?

RANDALL [a childishly plaintive note breaking into his huff]. I have
not said a word against Lady Utterword. This is just the conspiracy over
again.

HECTOR. What conspiracy?

RANDALL. You know very well, sir. A conspiracy to make me out to be
pettish and jealous and childish and everything I am not. Everyone knows
I am just the opposite.

HECTOR [rising]. Something in the air of the house has upset you. It
often does have that effect. [He goes to the garden door and calls Lady
Utterword with commanding emphasis]. Ariadne!

LADY UTTERWORD [at some distance]. Yes.

RANDALL. What are you calling her for? I want to speak--

LADY UTTERWORD [arriving breathless]. Yes. You really are a terribly
commanding person. What's the matter?

HECTOR. I do not know how to manage your friend Randall. No doubt you
do.

LADY UTTERWORD. Randall: have you been making yourself ridiculous,
as usual? I can see it in your face. Really, you are the most pettish
creature.

RANDALL. You know quite well, Ariadne, that I have not an ounce of
pettishness in my disposition. I have made myself perfectly pleasant
here. I have remained absolutely cool and imperturbable in the face of
a burglar. Imperturbability is almost too strong a point of mine. But
[putting his foot down with a stamp, and walking angrily up and down the
room] I insist on being treated with a certain consideration. I will
not allow Hushabye to take liberties with me. I will not stand your
encouraging people as you do.

HECTOR. The man has a rooted delusion that he is your husband.

LADY UTTERWORD. I know. He is jealous. As if he had any right to be! He
compromises me everywhere. He makes scenes all over the place. Randall:
I will not allow it. I simply will not allow it. You had no right to
discuss me with Hector. I will not be discussed by men.

HECTOR. Be reasonable, Ariadne. Your fatal gift of beauty forces men to
discuss you.

LADY UTTERWORD. Oh indeed! what about YOUR fatal gift of beauty?

HECTOR. How can I help it?

LADY UTTERWORD. You could cut off your moustache: I can't cut off my
nose. I get my whole life messed up with people falling in love with me.
And then Randall says I run after men.

RANDALL. I--

LADY UTTERWORD. Yes you do: you said it just now. Why can't you think
of something else than women? Napoleon was quite right when he said that
women are the occupation of the idle man. Well, if ever there was an
idle man on earth, his name is Randall Utterword.

RANDALL. Ariad--

LADY UTTERWORD [overwhelming him with a torrent of words]. Oh yes you
are: it's no use denying it. What have you ever done? What good are you?
You are as much trouble in the house as a child of three. You couldn't
live without your valet.

RANDALL. This is--

LADY UTTERWORD. Laziness! You are laziness incarnate. You are
selfishness itself. You are the most uninteresting man on earth. You
can't even gossip about anything but yourself and your grievances and
your ailments and the people who have offended you. [Turning to Hector].
Do you know what they call him, Hector?

HECTOR } [speaking { Please don't tell me. RANDALL } together] { I'll
not stand it--

LADY UTTERWORD. Randall the Rotter: that is his name in good society.

RANDALL [shouting]. I'll not bear it, I tell you. Will you listen to me,
you infernal--[he chokes].

LADY UTTERWORD. Well: go on. What were you going to call me? An infernal
what? Which unpleasant animal is it to be this time?

RANDALL [foaming]. There is no animal in the world so hateful as a woman
can be. You are a maddening devil. Hushabye, you will not believe me
when I tell you that I have loved this demon all my life; but God knows
I have paid for it [he sits down in the draughtsman's chair, weeping].

LADY UTTERWORD [standing over him with triumphant contempt]. Cry-baby!

HECTOR [gravely, coming to him]. My friend, the Shotover sisters have
two strange powers over men. They can make them love; and they can make
them cry. Thank your stars that you are not married to one of them.

LADY UTTERWORD [haughtily]. And pray, Hector--

HECTOR [suddenly catching her round the shoulders: swinging her right
round him and away from Randall: and gripping her throat with the other
hand]. Ariadne, if you attempt to start on me, I'll choke you: do you
hear? The cat-and-mouse game with the other sex is a good game; but I
can play your head off at it. [He throws her, not at all gently, into
the big chair, and proceeds, less fiercely but firmly]. It is true that
Napoleon said that woman is the occupation of the idle man. But he added
that she is the relaxation of the warrior. Well, I am the warrior. So
take care.

LADY UTTERWORD [not in the least put out, and rather pleased by his
violence]. My dear Hector, I have only done what you asked me to do.

HECTOR. How do you make that out, pray?

LADY UTTERWORD. You called me in to manage Randall, didn't you? You said
you couldn't manage him yourself.

HECTOR. Well, what if I did? I did not ask you to drive the man mad.

LADY UTTERWORD. He isn't mad. That's the way to manage him. If you were
a mother, you'd understand.

HECTOR. Mother! What are you up to now?

LADY UTTERWORD. It's quite simple. When the children got nerves and
were naughty, I smacked them just enough to give them a good cry and
a healthy nervous shock. They went to sleep and were quite good
afterwards. Well, I can't smack Randall: he is too big; so when he gets
nerves and is naughty, I just rag him till he cries. He will be all
right now. Look: he is half asleep already [which is quite true].

RANDALL [waking up indignantly]. I'm not. You are most cruel, Ariadne.
[Sentimentally]. But I suppose I must forgive you, as usual [he checks
himself in the act of yawning].

LADY UTTERWORD [to Hector]. Is the explanation satisfactory, dread
warrior?

HECTOR. Some day I shall kill you, if you go too far. I thought you were
a fool.

LADY UTTERWORD [laughing]. Everybody does, at first. But I am not such
a fool as I look. [She rises complacently]. Now, Randall, go to bed. You
will be a good boy in the morning.

RANDALL [only very faintly rebellious]. I'll go to bed when I like. It
isn't ten yet.

LADY UTTERWORD. It is long past ten. See that he goes to bed at once,
Hector. [She goes into the garden].

HECTOR. Is there any slavery on earth viler than this slavery of men to
women?

RANDALL [rising resolutely]. I'll not speak to her tomorrow. I'll not
speak to her for another week. I'll give her such a lesson. I'll go
straight to bed without bidding her good-night. [He makes for the door
leading to the hall].

HECTOR. You are under a spell, man. Old Shotover sold himself to the
devil in Zanzibar. The devil gave him a black witch for a wife; and
these two demon daughters are their mystical progeny. I am tied to
Hesione's apron-string; but I'm her husband; and if I did go stark
staring mad about her, at least we became man and wife. But why should
you let yourself be dragged about and beaten by Ariadne as a toy donkey
is dragged about and beaten by a child? What do you get by it? Are you
her lover?

RANDALL. You must not misunderstand me. In a higher sense--in a Platonic
sense--

HECTOR. Psha! Platonic sense! She makes you her servant; and when
pay-day comes round, she bilks you: that is what you mean.

RANDALL [feebly]. Well, if I don't mind, I don't see what business it is
of yours. Besides, I tell you I am going to punish her. You shall see:
I know how to deal with women. I'm really very sleepy. Say good-night to
Mrs Hushabye for me, will you, like a good chap. Good-night. [He hurries
out].

HECTOR. Poor wretch! Oh women! women! women! [He lifts his fists in
invocation to heaven]. Fall. Fall and crush. [He goes out into the
garden].




ACT III

In the garden, Hector, as he comes out through the glass door of the
poop, finds Lady Utterword lying voluptuously in the hammock on the east
side of the flagstaff, in the circle of light cast by the electric arc,
which is like a moon in its opal globe. Beneath the head of the hammock,
a campstool. On the other side of the flagstaff, on the long garden
seat, Captain Shotover is asleep, with Ellie beside him, leaning
affectionately against him on his right hand. On his left is a deck
chair. Behind them in the gloom, Hesione is strolling about with Mangan.
It is a fine still night, moonless.

LADY UTTERWORD. What a lovely night! It seems made for us.

HECTOR. The night takes no interest in us. What are we to the night? [He
sits down moodily in the deck chair].

ELLIE [dreamily, nestling against the captain]. Its beauty soaks into my
nerves. In the night there is peace for the old and hope for the young.

HECTOR. Is that remark your own?

ELLIE. No. Only the last thing the captain said before he went to sleep.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I'm not asleep.

HECTOR. Randall is. Also Mr Mazzini Dunn. Mangan, too, probably.

MANGAN. No.

HECTOR. Oh, you are there. I thought Hesione would have sent you to bed
by this time.

MRS HUSHABYE [coming to the back of the garden seat, into the light,
with Mangan]. I think I shall. He keeps telling me he has a presentiment
that he is going to die. I never met a man so greedy for sympathy.

MANGAN [plaintively]. But I have a presentiment. I really have. And you
wouldn't listen.

MRS HUSHABYE. I was listening for something else. There was a sort of
splendid drumming in the sky. Did none of you hear it? It came from a
distance and then died away.

MANGAN. I tell you it was a train.

MRS HUSHABYE. And I tell you, Alf, there is no train at this hour. The
last is nine forty-five.

MANGAN. But a goods train.

MRS HUSHABYE. Not on our little line. They tack a truck on to the
passenger train. What can it have been, Hector?

HECTOR. Heaven's threatening growl of disgust at us useless futile
creatures. [Fiercely]. I tell you, one of two things must happen. Either
out of that darkness some new creation will come to supplant us as we
have supplanted the animals, or the heavens will fall in thunder and
destroy us.

LADY UTTERWORD [in a cool instructive manner, wallowing comfortably in
her hammock]. We have not supplanted the animals, Hector. Why do you ask
heaven to destroy this house, which could be made quite comfortable if
Hesione had any notion of how to live? Don't you know what is wrong with
it?

HECTOR. We are wrong with it. There is no sense in us. We are useless,
dangerous, and ought to be abolished.

LADY UTTERWORD. Nonsense! Hastings told me the very first day he came
here, nearly twenty-four years ago, what is wrong with the house.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What! The numskull said there was something wrong with
my house!

LADY UTTERWORD. I said Hastings said it; and he is not in the least a
numskull.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What's wrong with my house?

LADY UTTERWORD. Just what is wrong with a ship, papa. Wasn't it clever
of Hastings to see that?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. The man's a fool. There's nothing wrong with a ship.

LADY UTTERWORD. Yes, there is.

MRS HUSHABYE. But what is it? Don't be aggravating, Addy.

LADY UTTERWORD. Guess.

HECTOR. Demons. Daughters of the witch of Zanzibar. Demons.

LADY UTTERWORD. Not a bit. I assure you, all this house needs to make it
a sensible, healthy, pleasant house, with good appetites and sound sleep
in it, is horses.

MRS HUSHABYE. Horses! What rubbish!

LADY UTTERWORD. Yes: horses. Why have we never been able to let this
house? Because there are no proper stables. Go anywhere in England where
there are natural, wholesome, contented, and really nice English people;
and what do you always find? That the stables are the real centre of
the household; and that if any visitor wants to play the piano the whole
room has to be upset before it can be opened, there are so many things
piled on it. I never lived until I learned to ride; and I shall never
ride really well because I didn't begin as a child. There are only
two classes in good society in England: the equestrian classes and the
neurotic classes. It isn't mere convention: everybody can see that the
people who hunt are the right people and the people who don't are the
wrong ones.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. There is some truth in this. My ship made a man of me;
and a ship is the horse of the sea.

LADY UTTERWORD. Exactly how Hastings explained your being a gentleman.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Not bad for a numskull. Bring the man here with you
next time: I must talk to him.

LADY UTTERWORD. Why is Randall such an obvious rotter? He is well bred;
he has been at a public school and a university; he has been in the
Foreign Office; he knows the best people and has lived all his life
among them. Why is he so unsatisfactory, so contemptible? Why can't he
get a valet to stay with him longer than a few months? Just because he
is too lazy and pleasure-loving to hunt and shoot. He strums the piano,
and sketches, and runs after married women, and reads literary books and
poems. He actually plays the flute; but I never let him bring it into my
house. If he would only--[she is interrupted by the melancholy strains
of a flute coming from an open window above. She raises herself
indignantly in the hammock]. Randall, you have not gone to bed. Have
you been listening? [The flute replies pertly]. How vulgar! Go to bed
instantly, Randall: how dare you? [The window is slammed down. She
subsides]. How can anyone care for such a creature!

MRS HUSHABYE. Addy: do you think Ellie ought to marry poor Alfred merely
for his money?

MANGAN [much alarmed]. What's that? Mrs Hushabye, are my affairs to be
discussed like this before everybody?

LADY UTTERWORD. I don't think Randall is listening now.

MANGAN. Everybody is listening. It isn't right.

MRS HUSHABYE. But in the dark, what does it matter? Ellie doesn't mind.
Do you, Ellie?

ELLIE. Not in the least. What is your opinion, Lady Utterword? You have
so much good sense.

MANGAN. But it isn't right. It--[Mrs Hushabye puts her hand on his
mouth]. Oh, very well.

LADY UTTERWORD. How much money have you, Mr. Mangan?

MANGAN. Really--No: I can't stand this.

LADY UTTERWORD. Nonsense, Mr Mangan! It all turns on your income,
doesn't it?

MANGAN. Well, if you come to that, how much money has she?

ELLIE. None.

LADY UTTERWORD. You are answered, Mr Mangan. And now, as you have made
Miss Dunn throw her cards on the table, you cannot refuse to show your
own.

MRS HUSHABYE. Come, Alf! out with it! How much?

MANGAN [baited out of all prudence]. Well, if you want to know, I have
no money and never had any.

MRS HUSHABYE. Alfred, you mustn't tell naughty stories.

MANGAN. I'm not telling you stories. I'm telling you the raw truth.

LADY UTTERWORD. Then what do you live on, Mr Mangan?

MANGAN. Travelling expenses. And a trifle of commission.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What more have any of us but travelling expenses for
our life's journey?

MRS HUSHABYE. But you have factories and capital and things?

MANGAN. People think I have. People think I'm an industrial Napoleon.
That's why Miss Ellie wants to marry me. But I tell you I have nothing.

ELLIE. Do you mean that the factories are like Marcus's tigers? That
they don't exist?

MANGAN. They exist all right enough. But they're not mine. They belong
to syndicates and shareholders and all sorts of lazy good-for-nothing
capitalists. I get money from such people to start the factories. I find
people like Miss Dunn's father to work them, and keep a tight hand so as
to make them pay. Of course I make them keep me going pretty well; but
it's a dog's life; and I don't own anything.

MRS HUSHABYE. Alfred, Alfred, you are making a poor mouth of it to get
out of marrying Ellie.

MANGAN. I'm telling the truth about my money for the first time in my
life; and it's the first time my word has ever been doubted.

LADY UTTERWORD. How sad! Why don't you go in for politics, Mr Mangan?

MANGAN. Go in for politics! Where have you been living? I am in
politics.

LADY UTTERWORD. I'm sure I beg your pardon. I never heard of you.

MANGAN. Let me tell you, Lady Utterword, that the Prime Minister of this
country asked me to join the Government without even going through the
nonsense of an election, as the dictator of a great public department.

LADY UTTERWORD. As a Conservative or a Liberal?

MANGAN. No such nonsense. As a practical business man. [They all burst
out laughing]. What are you all laughing at?

MRS HUSHARYE. Oh, Alfred, Alfred!

ELLIE. You! who have to get my father to do everything for you!

MRS HUSHABYE. You! who are afraid of your own workmen!

HECTOR. You! with whom three women have been playing cat and mouse all
the evening!

LADY UTTERWORD. You must have given an immense sum to the party funds,
Mr Mangan.

MANGAN. Not a penny out of my own pocket. The syndicate found the money:
they knew how useful I should be to them in the Government.

LADY UTTERWORD. This is most interesting and unexpected, Mr Mangan. And
what have your administrative achievements been, so far?

MANGAN. Achievements? Well, I don't know what you call achievements;
but I've jolly well put a stop to the games of the other fellows in the
other departments. Every man of them thought he was going to save the
country all by himself, and do me out of the credit and out of my chance
of a title. I took good care that if they wouldn't let me do it they
shouldn't do it themselves either. I may not know anything about my own
machinery; but I know how to stick a ramrod into the other fellow's. And
now they all look the biggest fools going.

HECTOR. And in heaven's name, what do you look like?

MANGAN. I look like the fellow that was too clever for all the others,
don't I? If that isn't a triumph of practical business, what is?

HECTOR. Is this England, or is it a madhouse?

LADY UTTERWORD. Do you expect to save the country, Mr Mangan?

MANGAN. Well, who else will? Will your Mr Randall save it?

LADY UTTERWORD. Randall the rotter! Certainly not.

MANGAN. Will your brother-in-law save it with his moustache and his fine
talk?

HECTOR. Yes, if they will let me.

MANGAN [sneering]. Ah! Will they let you?

HECTOR. No. They prefer you.

MANGAN. Very well then, as you're in a world where I'm appreciated and
you're not, you'd best be civil to me, hadn't you? Who else is there but
me?

LADY UTTERWORD. There is Hastings. Get rid of your ridiculous sham
democracy; and give Hastings the necessary powers, and a good supply
of bamboo to bring the British native to his senses: he will save the
country with the greatest ease.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It had better be lost. Any fool can govern with a
stick in his hand. I could govern that way. It is not God's way. The man
is a numskull.

LADY UTTERWORD. The man is worth all of you rolled into one. What do you
say, Miss Dunn?

ELLIE. I think my father would do very well if people did not put upon
him and cheat him and despise him because he is so good.

MANGAN [contemptuously]. I think I see Mazzini Dunn getting into
parliament or pushing his way into the Government. We've not come to
that yet, thank God! What do you say, Mrs Hushabye?

MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, I say it matters very little which of you governs the
country so long as we govern you.

HECTOR. We? Who is we, pray?

MRS HUSHABYE. The devil's granddaughters, dear. The lovely women.

HECTOR [raising his hands as before]. Fall, I say, and deliver us from
the lures of Satan!

ELLIE. There seems to be nothing real in the world except my father and
Shakespeare. Marcus's tigers are false; Mr Mangan's millions are false;
there is nothing really strong and true about Hesione but her beautiful
black hair; and Lady Utterword's is too pretty to be real. The one thing
that was left to me was the Captain's seventh degree of concentration;
and that turns out to be--

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Rum.

LADY UTTERWORD [placidly]. A good deal of my hair is quite genuine. The
Duchess of Dithering offered me fifty guineas for this [touching her
forehead] under the impression that it was a transformation; but it is
all natural except the color.

MANGAN [wildly]. Look here: I'm going to take off all my clothes [he
begins tearing off his coat].

LADY UTTERWORD.  [in consternation]   { Mr. Mangan!

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER                      { What's that?

HECTOR.                               { Ha! Ha! Do. Do.

ELLIE                                 { Please don't.

MRS HUSHABYE [catching his arm and stopping him]. Alfred, for shame! Are
you mad?

MANGAN. Shame! What shame is there in this house? Let's all strip stark
naked. We may as well do the thing thoroughly when we're about it.
We've stripped ourselves morally naked: well, let us strip ourselves
physically naked as well, and see how we like it. I tell you I can't
bear this. I was brought up to be respectable. I don't mind the women
dyeing their hair and the men drinking: it's human nature. But it's not
human nature to tell everybody about it. Every time one of you opens
your mouth I go like this [he cowers as if to avoid a missile], afraid
of what will come next. How are we to have any self-respect if we don't
keep it up that we're better than we really are?

LADY UTTERWORD. I quite sympathize with you, Mr Mangan. I have been
through it all; and I know by experience that men and women are delicate
plants and must be cultivated under glass. Our family habit of throwing
stones in all directions and letting the air in is not only unbearably
rude, but positively dangerous. Still, there is no use catching physical
colds as well as moral ones; so please keep your clothes on.

MANGAN. I'll do as I like: not what you tell me. Am I a child or a grown
man? I won't stand this mothering tyranny. I'll go back to the city,
where I'm respected and made much of.

MRS HUSHABYE. Goodbye, Alf. Think of us sometimes in the city. Think of
Ellie's youth!

ELLIE. Think of Hesione's eyes and hair!

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Think of this garden in which you are not a dog
barking to keep the truth out!

HECTOR. Think of Lady Utterword's beauty! her good sense! her style!

LADY UTTERWORD. Flatterer. Think, Mr. Mangan, whether you can really do
any better for yourself elsewhere: that is the essential point, isn't
it?

MANGAN [surrendering]. All right: all right. I'm done. Have it your own
way. Only let me alone. I don't know whether I'm on my head or my heels
when you all start on me like this. I'll stay. I'll marry her. I'll do
anything for a quiet life. Are you satisfied now?

ELLIE. No. I never really intended to make you marry me, Mr Mangan.
Never in the depths of my soul. I only wanted to feel my strength: to
know that you could not escape if I chose to take you.

MANGAN [indignantly]. What! Do you mean to say you are going to throw me
over after my acting so handsome?

LADY UTTERWORD. I should not be too hasty, Miss Dunn. You can throw
Mr Mangan over at any time up to the last moment. Very few men in his
position go bankrupt. You can live very comfortably on his reputation
for immense wealth.

ELLIE. I cannot commit bigamy, Lady Utterword.

MRS HUSHABYE.                         { Bigamy! Whatever on earth are
                                        you talking about, Ellie?

LADY UTTERWORD [exclaiming altogether { Bigamy! What do you mean, Miss
                                        Dunn?

MANGAN                                { Bigamy! Do you mean to say
                                        you're married already?

HECTOR                                { Bigamy! This is some enigma.

ELLIE. Only half an hour ago I became Captain Shotover's white wife.

MRS HUSHABYE. Ellie! What nonsense! Where?

ELLIE. In heaven, where all true marriages are made.

LADY UTTERWORD. Really, Miss Dunn! Really, papa!

MANGAN. He told me I was too old! And him a mummy!

HECTOR [quoting Shelley].

     "Their altar the grassy earth outspreads
      And their priest the muttering wind."

ELLIE. Yes: I, Ellie Dunn, give my broken heart and my strong sound soul
to its natural captain, my spiritual husband and second father.

She draws the captain's arm through hers, and pats his hand. The captain
remains fast asleep.

MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, that's very clever of you, pettikins. Very clever.
Alfred, you could never have lived up to Ellie. You must be content with
a little share of me.

MANGAN [snifflng and wiping his eyes]. It isn't kind--[his emotion
chokes him].

LADY UTTERWORD. You are well out of it, Mr Mangan. Miss Dunn is the most
conceited young woman I have met since I came back to England.

MRS HUSHABYE. Oh, Ellie isn't conceited. Are you, pettikins?

ELLIE. I know my strength now, Hesione.

MANGAN. Brazen, I call you. Brazen.

MRS HUSHABYE. Tut, tut, Alfred: don't be rude. Don't you feel how
lovely this marriage night is, made in heaven? Aren't you happy, you and
Hector? Open your eyes: Addy and Ellie look beautiful enough to please
the most fastidious man: we live and love and have not a care in the
world. We women have managed all that for you. Why in the name of common
sense do you go on as if you were two miserable wretches?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I tell you happiness is no good. You can be happy when
you are only half alive. I am happier now I am half dead than ever I was
in my prime. But there is no blessing on my happiness.

ELLIE [her face lighting up]. Life with a blessing! that is what I want.
Now I know the real reason why I couldn't marry Mr Mangan: there would
be no blessing on our marriage. There is a blessing on my broken heart.
There is a blessing on your beauty, Hesione. There is a blessing on your
father's spirit. Even on the lies of Marcus there is a blessing; but on
Mr Mangan's money there is none.