Mrs Bridgenorth rises to receive her brother-in-law, who enters
resplendent in full-dress uniform, with many medals and orders.
General Bridgenorth is a well set up man of fifty, with large
brave nostrils, an iron mouth, faithful dog's eyes, and much
natural simplicity and dignity of character. He is ignorant,
stupid, and prejudiced, having been carefully trained to be so;
and it is not always possible to be patient with him when his
unquestionably good intentions become actively mischievous; but
one blames society, not himself, for this. He would be no worse a
man than Collins, had he enjoyed Collins's social opportunities.
He comes to the hearth, where Mrs Bridgenorth is standing with
her back to the fireplace.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Good morning, Boxer. [They shake hands]. Another
niece to give away. This is the last of them.

THE GENERAL [very gloomy] Yes, Alice. Nothing for the old warrior
uncle to do but give away brides to luckier men than himself.
Has--[he chokes] has your sister come yet?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Why do you always call Lesbia my sister? Dont
you know that it annoys her more than any of the rest of your
tricks?

THE GENERAL. Tricks! Ha! Well, I'll try to break myself of it;
but I think she might bear with me in a little thing like that.
She knows that her name sticks in my throat. Better call her your
sister than try to call her L-- [he almost breaks down] L-- well,
call her by her name and make a fool of myself by crying. [He
sits down at the near end of the table].

MRS BRIDGENORTH [going to him and rallying him] Oh come, Boxer!
Really, really! We are no longer boys and girls. You cant keep up
a broken heart all your life. It must be nearly twenty years
since she refused you. And you know that it's not because she
dislikes you, but only that she's not a marrying woman.

THE GENERAL. It's no use. I love her still. And I cant help
telling her so whenever we meet, though I know it makes her avoid
me. [He all but weeps].

MRS BRIDGENORTH. What does she say when you tell her?

THE GENERAL. Only that she wonders when I am going to grow out of
it. I know now that I shall never grow out of it.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Perhaps you would if you married her. I
believe youre better as you are, Boxer.

THE GENERAL. I'm a miserable man. I'm really sorry to be a
ridiculous old bore, Alice; but when I come to this house for a
wedding--to these scenes--to--to recollections of the past--
always to give the bride to somebody else, and never to have my
bride given to me--[he rises abruptly] May I go into the garden
and smoke it off?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do, Boxer.

Collins returns with the wedding cake.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Oh, heres the cake. I believe it's the same one
we had for Florence's wedding.

THE GENERAL. I cant bear it [he hurries out through the garden
door].

COLLINS [putting the cake on the table] Well, look at that,
maam! Aint it odd that after all the weddings he's given away at,
the General cant stand the sight of a wedding cake yet. It always
seems to give him the same shock.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Well, it's his last shock. You have married the
whole family now, Collins. [She takes up The Times again and
resumes her seat].

COLLINS. Except your sister, maam. A fine character of a lady,
maam, is Miss Grantham. I have an ambition to arrange her wedding
breakfast.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. She wont marry, Collins.

COLLINS. Bless you, maam, they all say that. You and me said it,
I'll lay. I did, anyhow.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. No: marriage came natural to me. I should have
thought it did to you too.

COLLINS [pensive] No, maam: it didnt come natural. My wife had to
break me into it. It came natural to her: she's what you might
call a regular old hen. Always wants to have her family within
sight of her. Wouldnt go to bed unless she knew they was all safe
at home and the door locked, and the lights out. Always wants her
luggage in the carriage with her. Always goes and makes the
engine driver promise her to be careful. She's a born wife and
mother, maam. Thats why my children all ran away from home.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Did you ever feel inclined to run away, Collins?

COLLINS. Oh yes, maam, yes: very often. But when it came to the
point I couldnt bear to hurt her feelings. Shes a sensitive,
affectionate, anxious soul; and she was never brought up to know
what freedom is to some people. You see, family life is all the
life she knows: she's like a bird born in a cage, that would die
if you let it loose in the woods. When I thought how little it
was to a man of my easy temper to put up with her, and how deep
it would hurt her to think it was because I didnt care for her, I
always put off running away till next time; and so in the end I
never ran away at all. I daresay it was good for me to be took
such care of; but it cut me off from all my old friends something
dreadful, maam: especially the women, maam. She never gave them a
chance: she didnt indeed. She never understood that married
people should take holidays from one another if they are to keep
at all fresh. Not that I ever got tired of her, maam; but my! how
I used to get tired of home life sometimes. I used to catch
myself envying my brother George: I positively did, maam.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. George was a bachelor then, I suppose?

COLLINS. Bless you, no, maam. He married a very fine figure of a
woman; but she was that changeable and what you might call
susceptible, you would not believe. She didnt seem to have any
control over herself when she fell in love. She would mope for a
couple of days, crying about nothing; and then she would up and
say--no matter who was there to hear her--"I must go to him,
George"; and away she would go from her home and her husband
without with-your-leave or by-your-leave.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. But do you mean that she did this more than
once? That she came back?

COLLINS. Bless you, maam, she done it five times to my own
knowledge; and then George gave up telling us about it, he got so
used to it.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. But did he always take her back?

COLLINS. Well, what could he do, maam? Three times out of four
the men would bring her back the same evening and no harm done.
Other times theyd run away from her. What could any man with a
heart do but comfort her when she came back crying at the way
they dodged her when she threw herself at their heads, pretending
they was too noble to accept the sacrifice she was making. George
told her again and again that if she'd only stay at home and hold
off a bit theyd be at her feet all day long. She got sensible at
last and took his advice. George always liked change of company.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. What an odious woman, Collins! Dont you think
so?

COLLINS [judicially] Well, many ladies with a domestic turn
thought so and said so, maam. But I will say for Mrs George that
the variety of experience made her wonderful interesting. Thats
where the flighty ones score off the steady ones, maam. Look at
my old woman! She's never known any man but me; and she cant
properly know me, because she dont know other men to compare me
with. Of course she knows her parents in--well, in the way one
does know one's parents not knowing half their lives as you might
say, or ever thinking that they was ever young; and she knew her
children as children, and never thought of them as independent
human beings till they ran away and nigh broke her heart for a
week or two. But Mrs George she came to know a lot about men of
all sorts and ages; for the older she got the younger she liked
em; and it certainly made her interesting, and gave her a lot of
sense. I have often taken her advice on things when my own poor
old woman wouldnt have been a bit of use to me.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. I hope you dont tell your wife that you go
elsewhere for advice.

COLLINS. Lord bless you, maam, I'm that fond of my old Matilda
that I never tell her anything at all for fear of hurting her
feelings. You see, she's such an out-and-out wife and mother that
she's hardly a responsible human being out of her house, except
when she's marketing.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Does she approve of Mrs George?

COLLINS. Oh, Mrs George gets round her. Mrs George can get round
anybody if she wants to. And then Mrs George is very particular
about religion. And shes a clairvoyant.

MRS BRIDGENORTH [surprised] A clairvoyant!

COLLINS [calm] Oh yes, maam, yes. All you have to do is to
mesmerize her a bit; and off she goes into a trance, and says the
most wonderful things! not things about herself, but as if it was
the whole human race giving you a bit of its mind. Oh, wonderful,
maam, I assure you. You couldnt think of a game that Mrs George
isnt up to.

Lesbia Grantham comes in through the tower. She is a tall,
handsome, slender lady in her prime; that is, between 36 and 55.
She has what is called a well-bred air, dressing very carefully
to produce that effect without the least regard for the latest
fashions, sure of herself, very terrifying to the young and shy,
fastidious to the ends of her long finger-tips, and tolerant and
amused rather than sympathetic.

LESBIA. Good morning, dear big sister.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Good morning, dear little sister. [They kiss].

LESBIA. Good morning, Collins. How well you are looking! And how
young! [She turns the middle chair away from the table and sits
down].

COLLINS. Thats only my professional habit at a wedding, Miss. You
should see me at a political dinner. I look nigh seventy.
[Looking at his watch] Time's getting along, maam. May I send up
word from you to Miss Edith to hurry a bit with her dressing?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do, Collins.

Collins goes out through the tower, taking the cake with him.

LESBIA. Dear old Collins! Has he told you any stories this
morning?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Yes. You were just late for a particularly
thrilling invention of his.

LESBIA. About Mrs George?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Yes. He says she's a clairvoyant.

LESBIA. I wonder whether he really invented George, or stole her
out of some book.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. I wonder!

LESBIA. Wheres the Barmecide?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. In the study, working away at his new book. He
thinks no more now of having a daughter married than of having an
egg for breakfast.

The General, soothed by smoking, comes in from the garden.

THE GENERAL [with resolute bonhomie] Ah, Lesbia!

MRS BRIDGENORTH. How do you do? [They shake hands; and he takes
the chair on her right].

Mrs Bridgenorth goes out through the tower.

LESBIA. How are you, Boxer? You look almost as gorgeous as the
wedding cake.

THE GENERAL. I make a point of appearing in uniform whenever I
take part in any ceremony, as a lesson to the subalterns. It is
not the custom in England; but it ought to be.

LESBIA. You look very fine, Boxer. What a frightful lot of
bravery all these medals must represent!

THE GENERAL. No, Lesbia. They represent despair and cowardice. I
won all the early ones by trying to get killed. You know why.

LESBIA. But you had a charmed life?

THE GENERAL. Yes, a charmed life. Bayonets bent on my buckles.
Bullets passed through me and left no trace: thats the worst of
modern bullets: Ive never been hit by a dum-dum. When I was only
a company officer I had at least the right to expose myself to
death in the field. Now I'm a General even that resource is cut
off. [Persuasively drawing his chair nearer to her] Listen to me,
Lesbia. For the tenth and last time--

LESBIA [interrupting] On Florence's wedding morning, two years
ago, you said "For the ninth and last time."

THE GENERAL. We are two years older, Lesbia. I'm fifty: you
are--

LESBIA. Yes, I know. It's no use, Boxer. When will you be old
enough to take no for an answer?

THE GENERAL. Never, Lesbia, never. You have never given me a real
reason for refusing me yet. I once thought it was somebody else.
There were lots of fellows after you; but now theyve all given it
up and married. [Bending still nearer to her] Lesbia: tell me
your secret. Why--

LESBIA [sniffing disgustedly] Oh! Youve been smoking. [She rises
and goes to the chair on the hearth] Keep away, you wretch.

THE GENERAL. But for that pipe, I could not have faced you
without breaking down. It has soothed me and nerved me.

LESBIA [sitting down with The Times in her hand] Well, it has
nerved me to tell you why I'm going to be an old maid.

THE GENERAL [impulsively approaching her] Dont say that, Lesbia.
It's not natural: it's not right: it's--

LESBIA. [fanning him off] No: no closer, Boxer, please. [He
retreats, discouraged]. It may not be natural; but it happens all
the time. Youll find plenty of women like me, if you care to look
for them: women with lots of character and good looks and money
and offers, who wont and dont get married. Cant you guess why?

THE GENERAL. I can understand when there is another.

LESBIA. Yes; but there isnt another. Besides, do you suppose I
think, at my time of life, that the difference between one decent
sort of man and another is worth bothering about?

THE GENERAL. The heart has its preferences, Lesbia. One image,
and one only, gets indelibly--

LESBIA. Yes. Excuse my interrupting you so often; but your
sentiments are so correct that I always know what you are going
to say before you finish. You see, Boxer, everybody is not like
you. You are a sentimental noodle: you dont see women as they
really are. You dont see me as I really am. Now I do see men as
they really are. I see you as you really are.

THE GENERAL [murmuring] No: dont say that, Lesbia.

LESBIA. I'm a regular old maid. I'm very particular about my
belongings. I like to have my own house, and to have it to
myself. I have a very keen sense of beauty and fitness and
cleanliness and order. I am proud of my independence and jealous
for it. I have a sufficiently well-stocked mind to be very good
company for myself if I have plenty of books and music. The one
thing I never could stand is a great lout of a man smoking all
over my house and going to sleep in his chair after dinner, and
untidying everything. Ugh!

THE GENERAL. But love--

LESBIA. Ob, love! Have you no imagination? Do you think I have
never been in love with wonderful men? heroes! archangels!
princes! sages! even fascinating rascals! and had the strangest
adventures with them? Do you know what it is to look at a mere
real man after that? a man with his boots in every corner, and
the smell of his tobacco in every curtain?

THE GENERAL [somewhat dazed] Well but--excuse my mentioning
it--dont you want children?

LESBIA. I ought to have children. I should be a good mother to
children. I believe it would pay the country very well to pay me
very well to have children. But the country tells me that I cant
have a child in my house without a man in it too; so I tell the
country that it will have to do without my children. If I am to
be a mother, I really cannot have a man bothering me to be a wife
at the same time.

THE GENERAL. My dear Lesbia: you know I dont wish to be
impertinent; but these are not the correct views for an English
lady to express.

LESBIA. That is why I dont express them, except to gentlemen who
wont take any other answer. The difficulty, you see, is that I
really am an English lady, and am particularly proud of being
one.

THE GENERAL. I'm sure of that, Lesbia: quite sure of it. I never
meant--

LESBIA [rising impatiently] Oh, my dear Boxer, do please try to
think of something else than whether you have offended me, and
whether you are doing the correct thing as an English gentleman.
You are faultless, and very dull. [She shakes her shoulders
intolerantly and walks across to the other side of the kitchen].

THE GENERAL [moodily] Ha! thats whats the matter with me. Not
clever. A poor silly soldier man.

LESBIA. The whole matter is very simple. As I say, I am an
English lady, by which I mean that I have been trained to do
without what I cant have on honorable terms, no matter what it
is.

THE GENERAL. I really dont understand you, Lesbia.

LESBIA [turning on him] Then why on earth do you want to marry a
woman you dont understand?

THE GENERAL. I dont know. I suppose I love you.

LESBIA. Well, Boxer, you can love me as much as you like,
provided you look happy about it and dont bore me. But you cant
marry me; and thats all about it.

THE GENERAL. It's so frightfully difficult to argue the matter
fairly with you without wounding your delicacy by overstepping
the bounds of good taste. But surely there are calls of nature--
LESBIA. Dont be ridiculous, Boxer.

THE GENERAL. Well, how am I to express it? Hang it all, Lesbia,
dont you want a husband?

LESBIA. No. I want children; and I want to devote myself entirely
to my children, and not to their father. The law will not allow
me to do that; so I have made up my mind to have neither husband
nor children.

THE GENERAL. But, great Heavens, the natural appetites--

LESBIA. As I said before, an English lady is not the slave of her
appetites. That is what an English gentleman seems incapable of
understanding. [She sits down at the end of the table, near the
study door].

THE GENERAL [huffily] Oh well, if you refuse, you refuse. I shall
not ask you again. I'm sorry I returned to the subject. [He
retires to the hearth and plants himself there, wounded and
lofty].

LESBIA. Dont be cross, Boxer.

THE GENERAL. I'm not cross, only wounded, Lesbia. And when you
talk like that, I dont feel convinced: I only feel utterly at a
loss.

LESBIA. Well, you know our family rule. When at a loss consult
the greengrocer. [Opportunely Collins comes in through the
tower]. Here he is.

COLLINS. Sorry to be so much in and out, Miss. I thought Mrs
Bridgenorth was here. The table is ready now for the breakfast,
if she would like to see it.

LESBIA. If you are satisfied, Collins, I am sure she will be.

THE GENERAL. By the way, Collins: I thought theyd made you an
alderman.

COLLINS. So they have, General.

THE GENERAL. Then wheres your gown?

COLLINS. I dont wear it in private life, General.

THE GENERAL. Why? Are you ashamed of it?

COLLINS. No, General. To tell you the truth, I take a pride in
it. I cant help it.

THE GENERAL. Attention, Collins. Come here. [Collins comes to
him]. Do you see my uniform--all my medals?

COLLINS. Yes, General. They strike the eye, as it were.

THE GENERAL. They are meant to. Very well. Now you know, dont
you, that your services to the community as a greengrocer are as
important and as dignified as mine as a soldier?

COLLINS. I'm sure it's very honorable of you to say so, General.

THE GENERAL [emphatically] You know also, dont you, that any man
who can see anything ridiculous, or unmanly, or unbecoming in
your work or in your civic robes is not a gentleman, but a
jumping, bounding, snorting cad?

COLLINS. Well, strictly between ourselves, that is my opinion,
General.

THE GENERAL. Then why not dignify my niece's wedding by wearing
your robes?

COLLINS. A bargain's a bargain, General. Mrs Bridgenorth sent for
the greengrocer, not for the alderman. It's just as unpleasant to
get more than you bargain for as to get less.

THE GENERAL. I'm sure she will agree with me. I attach importance
to this as an affirmation of solidarity in the service of the
community. The Bishop's apron, my uniform, your robes: the
Church, the Army, and the Municipality.

COLLINS [retiring] Very well, General. [He turns dubiously to
Lesbia on his way to the tower]. I wonder what my wife will say,
Miss?

THE GENERAL. What! Is your, wife ashamed of your robes?

COLLINS. No, sir, not ashamed of them. But she grudged the money
for them; and she will be afraid of my sleeves getting into the
gravy.

Mrs Bridgenorth, her placidity quite upset, comes in with a
letter; hurries past Collins; and comes between Lesbia and the
General.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Lesbia: Boxer: heres a pretty mess!

Collins goes out discreetly.

THE GENERAL. Whats the matter?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Reginald's in London, and wants to come to the
wedding.

THE GENERAL [stupended] Well, dash my buttons!

LESBIA. Oh, all right, let him come.

THE GENERAL. Let him come! Why, the decree has not been made
absolute yet. Is he to walk in here to Edith's wedding, reeking
from the Divorce Court?

MRS BRIDGENORTH [vexedly sitting down in the middle chair] It's
too bad. No: I cant forgive him, Lesbia, really. A man of
Reginald's age, with a young wife--the best of girls, and as
pretty as she can be--to go off with a common woman from the
streets! Ugh!

LESBIA. You must make allowances. What can you expect? Reginald
was always weak. He was brought up to be weak. The family
property was all mortgaged when he inherited it. He had to
struggle along in constant money difficulties, hustled by his
solicitors, morally bullied by the Barmecide, and physically
bullied by Boxer, while they two were fighting their own way and
getting well trained. You know very well he couldnt afford to
marry until the mortgages were cleared and he was over fifty. And
then of course he made a fool of himself marrying a child like
Leo.

THE GENERAL. But to hit her! Absolutely to hit her! He knocked
her down--knocked her flat down on a flowerbed in the presence of
his gardener. He! the head of the family! the man that stands
before the Barmecide and myself as Bridgenorth of Bridgenorth! to
beat his wife and go off with a low woman and be divorced for it
in the face of all England! in the face of my uniform and
Alfred's apron! I can never forget what I felt: it was only the
King's personal request--virtually a command--that stopped me
from resigning my commission. I'd cut Reginald dead if I met him
in the street.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Besides, Leo's coming. Theyd meet. It's
impossible, Lesbia.

LESBIA. Oh, I forgot that. That settles it. He mustnt come.

THE GENERAL. Of course he mustnt. You tell him that if he enters
this house, I'll leave it; and so will every decent man and woman
in it.

COLLINS [returning for a moment to announce] Mr Reginald, maam.
[He withdraws when Reginald enters].

THE GENERAL [beside himself] Well, dash my buttons!!

Reginald is just the man Lesbia has described. He is hardened and
tough physically, and hasty and boyish in his manner and speech,
belonging as he does to the large class of English gentlemen of
property (solicitor-managed) who have never developed
intellectually since their schooldays. He is a muddled,
rebellious, hasty, untidy, forgetful, always late sort of man,
who very evidently needs the care of a capable woman, and has
never been lucky or attractive enough to get it. All the same, a
likeable man, from whom nobody apprehends any malice nor expects
any achievement. In everything but years he is younger than his
brother the General.

REGINALD [coming forward between the General and Mrs Bridgenorth]
Alice: it's no use. I cant stay away from Edith's wedding. Good
morning, Lesbia. How are you, Boxer? [He offers the General his
hand].

THE GENERAL [with crushing stiffness] I was just telling Alice,
sir, that if you entered this house, I should leave it.

REGINALD. Well, dont let me detain you, old chap. When you start
calling people Sir, youre not particularly good company.

LESBIA. Dont you begin to quarrel. That wont improve the
situation.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. I think you might have waited until you got my
answer, Rejjy.

REGINALD. It's so jolly easy to say No in a letter. Wont you let
me stay?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. How can I? Leo's coming.

REGINALD. Well, she wont mind.

THE GENERAL. Wont mind!!!!

LESBIA. Dont talk nonsense, Rejjy; and be off with you.

THE GENERAL [with biting sarcasm] At school you lead a theory
that women liked being knocked down, I remember.

REGINALD. Youre a nice, chivalrous, brotherly sort of swine, you
are.

THE GENERAL. Mr Bridgenorth: are you going to leave this house or
am I?

REGINALD. You are, I hope. [He emphasizes his intention to stay
by sitting down].

THE GENERAL. Alice: will you allow me to be driven from Edith's
wedding by this--

LESBIA [warningly] Boxer!

THE GENERAL. --by this Respondent? Is Edith to be given away by
him?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Certainly not. Reginald: you were not asked to
come; and I have asked you to go. You know how fond I am of Leo;
and you know what she would feel if she came in and found you
here.

COLLINS [again appearing in the tower] Mrs Reginald, maam.

LESBIA            {No, no. Ask her to--   } [All three
MRS BRIDGENORTH   {Oh,  how unfortunate!  } clamoring
THE GENERAL       {Well, dash my buttons! } together].

It is too late: Leo is already in the kitchen. Collins goes out,
mutely abandoning a situation which he deplores but has been
unable to save.

Leo is very pretty, very youthful, very restless, and
consequently very charming to people who are touched by youth and
beauty, as well as to those who regard young women as more or
less appetizing lollipops, and dont regard old women at all.
Coldly studied, Leo's restlessness is much less lovable than the
kittenishness which comes from a rich and fresh vitality. She is
a born fusser about herself and everybody else for whom she feels
responsible; and her vanity causes her to exaggerate her
responsibilities officiously. All her fussing is about little
things; but she often calls them by big names, such as Art, the
Divine Spark, the world, motherhood, good breeding, the Universe,
the Creator, or anything else that happens to strike her
imagination as sounding intellectually important. She has more
than common imagination and no more than common conception and
penetration; so that she is always on the high horse about words
and always in the perambulator about things. Considering herself
clever, thoughtful, and superior to ordinary weaknesses and
prejudices, she recklessly attaches herself to clever men on that
understanding, with the result that they are first delighted,
then exasperated, and finally bored. When marrying Reginald she
told her friends that there was a great deal in him which needed
bringing out. If she were a middle-aged man she would be the
terror of his club. Being a pretty young woman, she is forgiven
everything, proving that "Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner"
is an error, the fact being that the secret of forgiving
everything is to understand nothing.

She runs in fussily, full of her own importance, and swoops on
Lesbia, who is much less disposed to spoil her than Mrs
Bridgenorth is. But Leo affects a special intimacy with Lesbia,
as of two thinkers among the Philistines.

LEO [to Lesbia, kissing her] Good morning. [Coming to Mrs
Bridgenorth] How do, Alice? [Passing on towards the hearth] Why
so gloomy, General? [Reginald rises between her and the General]
Oh, Rejjy! What will the King's Proctor say?

REGINALD. Damn the King's Proctor!

LEO. Naughty. Well, I suppose I must kiss you; but dont any of
you tell. [She kisses him. They can hardly believe their eyes].
Have you kept all your promises?

REGINALD. Oh, dont begin bothering about those--

LEO [insisting] Have? You? Kept? Your? Promises? Have you rubbed
your head with the lotion every night?

REGINALD. Yes, yes. Nearly every night.

LEO. Nearly! I know what that means. Have you worn your liver
pad?

THE GENERAL [solemnly] Leo: forgiveness is one of the most
beautiful traits in a woman's nature; but there are things that
should not be forgiven to a man. When a man knocks a woman down
[Leo gives a little shriek of laughter and collapses on a chair
next Mrs Bridgenorth, on her left]

REGINALD [sardonically] The man that would raise his hand to a
woman, save in the way of a kindness, is unworthy the name of
Bridgenorth. [He sits down at the end of the table nearest the
hearth].

THE GENERAL [much huffed] Oh, well, if Leo does not mind, of
course I have no more to say. But I think you might, out of
consideration for the family, beat your wife in private and not
in the presence of the gardener.

REGINALD [out of patience] Whats the good of beating your wife
unless theres a witness to prove it afterwards? You dont suppose
a man beats his wife for the fun of it, do you? How could she
have got her divorce if I hadnt beaten her? Nice state of things,
that!

THE GENERAL [gasping] Do you mean to tell me that you did it in
cold blood? simply to get rid of your wife?

REGINALD. No, I didn't: I did it to get her rid of me. What would
you do if you were fool enough to marry a woman thirty years
younger than yourself, and then found that she didnt care for
you, and was in love with a young fellow with a face like a
mushroom.

LEO. He has not. [Bursting into tears] And you are most unkind to
say I didnt care for you. Nobody could have been fonder of you.

REGINALD. A nice way of shewing your fondness! I had to go out
and dig that flower bed all over with my own hands to soften it.
I had to pick all the stones out of it. And then she complained
that I hadnt done it properly, because she got a worm down her
neck. I had to go to Brighton with a poor creature who took a
fancy to me on the way down, and got conscientious scruples about
committing perjury after dinner. I had to put her down in the
hotel book as Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth: Leo's name! Do you know
what that feels like to a decent man? Do you know what a decent
man feels about his wife's name? How would you like to go into a
hotel before all the waiters and people with--with that on your
arm? Not that it was the poor girl's fault, of course; only she
started crying because I couldnt stand her touching me; and now
she keeps writing to me. And then I'm held up in the public court
for cruelty and adultery, and turned away from Edith's wedding by
Alice, and lectured by you! a bachelor, and a precious green one
at that. What do you know about it?

THE GENERAL. Am I to understand that the whole case was one of
collusion?

REGINALD. Of course it was. Half the cases are collusions: what
are people to do? [The General, passing his hand dazedly over his
bewildered brow, sinks into the railed chair]. And what do you
take me for, that you should have the cheek to pretend to believe
all that rot about my knocking Leo about and leaving her for--for
a--a-- Ugh! you should have seen her.

THE GENERAL. This is perfectly astonishing to me. Why did you do
it? Why did Leo allow it?

REGINALD. Youd better ask her.

LEO [still in tears] I'm sure I never thought it would be so
horrid for Rejjy. I offered honorably to do it myself, and let
him divorce me; but he wouldnt. And he said himself that it was
the only way to do it--that it was the law that he should do it
that way. I never saw that hateful creature until that day in
Court. If he had only shewn her to me before, I should never have
allowed it.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. You did all this for Leo's sake, Rejjy?

REGINALD [with an unbearable sense of injury] I shouldnt mind a
bit if it were for Leo's sake. But to have to do it to make room
for that mushroom-faced serpent--!

THE GENERAL [jumping up] What right had he to be made room for?
Are you in your senses? What right?

REGINALD. The right of being a young man, suitable to a young
woman. I had no right at my age to marry Leo: she knew no more
about life than a child.

LEO. I knew a great deal more about it than a great baby like
you. I'm sure I dont know how youll get on with no one to take
care of you: I often lie awake at night thinking about it. And
now youve made me thoroughly miserable.

REGINALD. Serve you right! [She weeps]. There: dont get into a
tantrum, Leo.

LESBIA. May one ask who is the mushroom-faced serpent?

LEO. He isnt.

REGINALD. Sinjon Hotchkiss, of course.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Sinjon Hotchkiss! Why, he's coming to the
wedding!

REGINALD. What! In that case I'm off [he makes for the tower].

LEO          }                 { [seizing him] No you shant.
                                 You promised to be nice to
                 (all four       him.
THE GENERAL  }    rushing      { No, dont go, old chap. Not
                  after him      from Edith's wedding.
                  and capturing
                  him on the
MRS. BRIDGE-      threshold)
NORTH        }                 { Oh, do stay, Benjjy. I shall
                                 really be hurt if you desert
                                 us.
LESBIA       }                 { Better stay, Reginald. You must
                                 meet him sooner or later.


REGINALD. A moment ago, when I wanted to stay, you were all
shoving me out of the house. Now that I want to go, you wont let
me.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. I shall send a note to Mr Hotchkiss not to come.

LEO [weeping again] Oh, Alice! [She comes back to her chair,
heartbroken].

REGINALD [out of patience] Oh well, let her have her way. Let her
have her mushroom. Let him come. Let them all come.

He crosses the kitchen to the oak chest and sits sulkily on it.
Mrs Bridgenorth shrugs her shoulders and sits at the table in
Reginald's neighborhood listening in placid helplessness. Lesbia,
out of patience with Leo's tears, goes into the garden and sits
there near the door, snuffing up the open air in her relief from
the domestic stuffness of Reginald's affairs.

LEO. It's so cruel of you to go on pretending that I dont care
for you, Rejjy.

REGINALD [bitterly] She explained to me that it was only that she
had exhausted my conversation.

THE GENERAL [coming paternally to Leo] My dear girl: all the
conversation in the world has been exhausted long ago. Heaven
knows I have exhausted the conversation of the British Army these
thirty years; but I dont leave it on that account.

LEO. It's not that Ive exhausted it; but he will keep on
repeating it when I want to read or go to sleep. And Sinjon
amuses me. He's so clever.

THE GENERAL [stung] Ha! The old complaint. You all want geniuses
to marry. This demand for clever men is ridiculous. Somebody must
marry the plain, honest, stupid fellows. Have you thought of
that?

LEO. But there are such lots of stupid women to marry. Why do
they want to marry us? Besides, Rejjy knows that I'm quite fond
of him. I like him because he wants me; and I like Sinjon because
I want him. I feel that I have a duty to Rejjy.

THE GENERAL. Precisely: you have.

LEO. And, of course, Sinjon has the same duty to me.

THE GENERAL. Tut, tut!

LEO. Oh, how silly the law is! Why cant I marry them both?

THE GENERAL [shocked] Leo!

LEO. Well, I love them both. I should like to marry a lot of men.
I should like to have Rejjy for every day, and Sinjon for
concerts and theatres and going out in the evenings, and some
great austere saint for about once a year at the end of the
season, and some perfectly blithering idiot of a boy to be quite
wicked with. I so seldom feel wicked; and, when I do, it's such a
pity to waste it merely because it's too silly to confess to a
real grown-up man.

REGINALD. This is the kind of thing, you know [Helplessly] Well,
there it is!

THE GENERAL [decisively] Alice: this is a job for the Barmecide.
He's a Bishop: it's his duty to talk to Leo. I can stand a good
deal; but when it comes to flat polygamy and polyandry, we ought
to do something.

MRS BRIDGENORTH [going to the study door] Do come here a moment,
Alfred. We're in a difficulty.

THE BISHOP [within] Ask Collins, I'm busy.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Collins wont do. It's something very serious. Do
come just a moment, dear. [When she hears him coming she takes a
chair at the nearest end of the table].

The Bishop comes out of his study. He is still a slim active man,
spare of flesh, and younger by temperament than his brothers. He
has a delicate skin, fine hands, a salient nose with chin to
match, a short beard which accentuates his sharp chin by
bristling forward, clever humorous eyes, not without a glint of
mischief in them, ready bright speech, and the ways of a
successful man who is always interested in himself and generally
rather well pleased with himself. When Lesbia hears his voice she
turns her chair towards him, and presently rises and stands in
the doorway listening to the conversation.

THE BISHOP [going to Leo] Good morning, my dear. Hullo! Youve
brought Reginald with you. Thats very nice of you. Have you
reconciled them, Boxer?

THE GENERAL. Reconciled them! Why, man, the whole divorce was a
put-up job. She wants to marry some fellow named Hotchkiss.

REGINALD. A fellow with a face like--

LEO. You shant, Rejjy. He has a very fine face.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. And now she says she wants to marry both of
them, and a lot of other people as well.

LEO. I didnt say I wanted to marry them: I only said I should
like to marry them.

THE BISHOP. Quite a nice distinction, Leo.

LEO. Just occasionally, you know.

THE BISHOP [sitting down cosily beside her] Quite so. Sometimes a
poet, sometimes a Bishop, sometimes a fairy prince, sometimes
somebody quite indescribable, and sometimes nobody at all.

LEO. Yes: thats just it. How did you know?

THE BISHOP. Oh, I should say most imaginative and cultivated
young women feel like that. I wouldnt give a rap for one who
didnt. Shakespear pointed out long ago that a woman wanted a
Sunday husband as well as a weekday one. But, as usual, he didnt
follow up the idea.

THE GENERAL [aghast] Am I to understand--

THE BISHOP [cutting him short] Now, Boxer, am I the Bishop or are
you?

THE GENERAL [sulkily] You.

THE BISHOP. Then dont ask me are you to understand. "Yours not to
reason why: yours but to do and die"--

THE GENERAL. Oh, very well: go on. I'm not clever. Only a silly
soldier man. Ha! Go on. [He throws himself into the railed chair,
as one prepared for the worst].

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Alfred: dont tease Boxer.

THE BISHOP. If we are going to discuss ethical questions we must
begin by giving the devil fair play. Boxer never does. England
never does. We always assume that the devil is guilty; and we
wont allow him to prove his innocence, because it would be
against public morals if he succeeded. We used to do the same
with prisoners accused of high treason. And the consequence is
that we overreach ourselves; and the devil gets the better of us
after all. Perhaps thats what most of us intend him to do.

THE GENERAL. Alfred: we asked you here to preach to Leo. You are
preaching at me instead. I am not conscious of having said or
done anything that calls for that unsolicited attention.

THE BISHOP. But poor little Leo has only told the simple truth;
whilst you, Boxer, are striking moral attitudes.

THE GENERAL. I suppose thats an epigram. I dont understand
epigrams. I'm only a silly soldier man. Ha! But I can put a plain
question. Is Leo to be encouraged to be a polygamist?

THE BISHOP. Remember the British Empire, Boxer. Youre a British
General, you know.

THE GENERAL. What has that to do with polygamy?

THE BISHOP. Well, the great majority of our fellow-subjects are
polygamists. I cant as a British Bishop insult them by speaking
disrespectfully of polygamy. It's a very interesting question.
Many very interesting men have been polygamists: Solomon,
Mahomet, and our friend the Duke of--of--hm! I never can remember
his name.

THE GENERAL. It would become you better, Alfred, to send that
silly girl back to her husband and her duty than to talk clever
and mock at your religion. "What God hath joined together let no
man put asunder." Remember that.

THE BISHOP. Dont be afraid, Boxer. What God hath joined together
no man ever shall put asunder: God will take care of that. [To
Leo] By the way, who was it that joined you and Reginald, my
dear?

LEO. It was that awful little curate that afterwards drank, and
travelled first class with a third-class ticket, and then tried
to go on the stage. But they wouldnt have him. He called himself
Egerton Fotheringay.

THE BISHOP. Well, whom Egerton Fotheringay hath joined, let Sir
Gorell Barnes put asunder by all means.

THE GENERAL. I may be a silly soldier man; but I call this
blasphemy.

THE BISHOP [gravely] Better for me to take the name of Mr Egerton
Fotheringay in earnest than for you to take a higher name in
vain.

LESBIA. Cant you three brothers ever meet without quarrelling?

THE BISHOP [mildly] This is not quarrelling, Lesbia: it's only
English family life. Good morning.

LEO. You know, Bishop, it's very dear of you to take my part; but
I'm not sure that I'm not a little shocked.

THE BISHOP. Then I think Ive been a little more successful than
Boxer in getting you into a proper frame of mind.

THE GENERAL [snorting] Ha!

LEO. Not a bit; for now I'm going to shock you worse than ever.
I think Solomon was an old beast.

THE BISHOP. Precisely what you ought to think of him, my dear.
Dont apologize.

THE GENERAL [more shocked] Well, but hang it! Solomon was in the
Bible. And, after all, Solomon was Solomon.

LEO. And I stick to it: I still want to have a lot of interesting
men to know quite intimately--to say everything I think of to
them, and have them say everything they think of to me.

THE BISHOP. So you shall, my dear, if you are lucky. But you know
you neednt marry them all. Think of all the buttons you would
have to sew on. Besides, nothing is more dreadful than a husband
who keeps telling you everything he thinks, and always wants to
know what you think.

LEO [struck by this] Well, thats very true of Rejjy: In fact,
thats why I had to divorce him.

THE BISHOP [condoling] Yes: he repeats himself dreadfully, doesnt
he?

REGINALD. Look here, Alfred. If I have my faults, let her find
them out for herself without your help.

THE BISHOP. She has found them all out already, Reginald.

LEO [a little huffily] After all, there are worse men than
Reginald. I daresay he's not so clever as you; but still he's not
such a fool as you seem to think him!

THE BISHOP. Quite right, dear: stand up for your husband. I hope
you will always stand up for all your husbands. [He rises and
goes to the hearth, where he stands complacently with his back to
the fireplace, beaming at them all as at a roomful of children].

LEO. Please dont talk as if I wanted to marry a whole regiment.
For me there can never be more than two. I shall never love
anybody but Rejjy and Sinjon.

REGINALD. A man with a face like a--

LEO. I wont have it, Rejjy. It's disgusting.

THE BISHOP. You see, my dear, youll exhaust Sinjon's conversation
too in a week or so. A man is like a phonograph with half-a-dozen
records. You soon get tired of them all; and yet you have to sit
at table whilst he reels them off to every new visitor. In the
end you have to be content with his common humanity; and when you
come down to that, you find out about men what a great English
poet of my acquaintance used to say about women: that they all
taste alike. Marry whom you please: at the end of a month he'll
be Reginald over again. It wasnt worth changing: indeed it wasnt.

LEO. Then it's a mistake to get married.

THE BISHOP. It is, my dear; but it's a much bigger mistake not to
get married.

THE GENERAL [rising] Ha! You hear that, Lesbia? [He joins her at
the garden door].

LESBIA. Thats only an epigram, Boxer.

THE GENERAL. Sound sense, Lesbia. When a man talks rot, thats
epigram: when he talks sense, then I agree with him.

REGINALD [coming off the oak chest and looking at his watch] It's
getting late. Wheres Edith? Hasnt she got into her veil and
orange blossoms yet?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do go and hurry her, Lesbia.

LESBIA [going out through the tower] Come with me, Leo.

LEO [following Lesbia out] Yes, certainly.

The Bishop goes over to his wife and sits down, taking her hand
and kissing it by way of beginning a conversation with her.

THE BISHOP. Alice: Ive had another letter from the mysterious
lady who cant spell. I like that woman's letters. Theres an
intensity of passion in them that fascinates me.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Do you mean Incognita Appassionata?

THE BISHOP. Yes.

THE GENERAL [turning abruptly; he has been looking out into the
garden] Do you mean to say that women write love-letters to you?

THE BISHOP. Of course.

THE GENERAL. They never do to me.

THE BISHOP. The army doesnt attract women: the Church does.

REGINALD. Do you consider it right to let them? They may be
married women, you know.

THE BISHOP. They always are. This one is. [To Mrs Bridgenorth]
Dont you think her letters are quite the best love-letters I get?
[To the two men] Poor Alice has to read my love-letters aloud to
me at breakfast, when theyre worth it.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. There really is something fascinating about
Incognita. She never gives her address. Thats a good sign.

THE GENERAL. Mf! No assignations, you mean?

THE Bishop. Oh yes: she began the correspondence by making a very
curious but very natural assignation. She wants me to meet her in
heaven. I hope I shall.

THE GENERAL. Well, I must say I hope not, Alfred. I hope not.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. She says she is happily married, and that love
is a necessary of life to her, but that she must have, high above
all her lovers--

THE BISHOP. She has several apparently--

MRS BRIDGENORTH. --some great man who will never know her, never
touch her, as she is on earth, but whom she can meet in Heaven
when she has risen above all the everyday vulgarities of earthly
love.

THE BISHOP [rising] Excellent. Very good for her; and no trouble
to me. Everybody ought to have one of these idealizations, like
Dante's Beatrice. [He clasps his hands behind him, and strolls to
the hearth and back, singing].

Lesbia appears in the tower, rather perturbed.

LESBIA. Alice: will you come upstairs? Edith is not dressed.

MRS BRIDGENORTH [rising] Not dressed! Does she know what hour it
is?

LESBIA. She has locked herself into her room, reading.

The Bishop's song ceases; he stops dead in his stroll.

THE GENERAL. Reading!

THE BISHOP. What is she reading?

LESBIA. Some pamphlet that came by the eleven o'clock post. She
wont come out. She wont open the door. And she says she doesnt
know whether she's going to be married or not till she's finished
the pamphlet. Did you ever hear such a thing? Do come and speak
to her.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Alfred: you had better go.

THE BISHOP. Try Collins.

LESBIA. Weve tried Collins already. He got all that Ive told you
out of her through the keyhole. Come, Alice. [She vanishes. Mrs
Bridgenorth hurries after her].

THE BISHOP. This means a delay. I shall go back to my work [he
makes for the study door].

REGINALD. What are you working at now?

THE BISHOP [stopping] A chapter in my history of marriage. I'm
just at the Roman business, you know.

THE GENERAL [coming from the garden door to the chair Mrs
Bridgenorth has just left, and sitting down] Not more Ritualism,
I hope, Alfred?

THE BISHOP. Oh no. I mean ancient Rome. [He seats himself on the
edge of the table]. Ive just come to the period when the
propertied classes refused to get married and went in for
marriage settlements instead. A few of the oldest families stuck
to the marriage tradition so as to keep up the supply of vestal
virgins, who had to be legitimate; but nobody else dreamt of
getting married. It's all very interesting, because we're coming
to that here in England; except that as we dont require any
vestal virgins, nobody will get married at all, except the poor,
perhaps.

THE GENERAL. You take it devilishly coolly. Reginald: do you
think the Barmecide's quite sane?

REGINALD. No worse than ever he was.

THE GENERAL [to the Bishop] Do you mean to say you believe such a
thing will ever happen in England as that respectable people will
give up being married?

THE BISHOP. In England especially they will. In other countries
the introduction of reasonable divorce laws will save the
situation; but in England we always let an institution strain
itself until it breaks. Ive told our last four Prime Ministers
that if they didnt make our marriage laws reasonable there would
be a strike against marriage, and that it would begin among the
propertied classes, where no Government would dare to interfere
with it.

REGINALD. What did they say to that?

THE BISHOP. The usual thing. Quite agreed with me, but were sure
that they were the only sensible men in the world, and that the
least hint of marriage reform would lose them the next election.
And then lost it all the same: on cordite, on drink, on Chinese
labor in South Africa, on all sorts of trumpery.

REGINALD [lurching across the kitchen towards the hearth with his
hands in his pockets] It's no use: they wont listen to our sort.
[Turning on them] Of course they have to make you a Bishop and
Boxer a General, because, after all, their blessed rabble of
snobs and cads and half-starved shopkeepers cant do government
work; and the bounders and week-enders are too lazy and vulgar.
Theyd simply rot without us; but what do they ever do for us?
what attention do they ever pay to what we say and what we want?
I take it that we Bridgenorths are a pretty typical English
family of the sort that has always set things straight and stuck
up for the right to think and believe according to our
conscience. But nowadays we are expected to dress and eat as the
week-end bounders do, and to think and believe as the converted
cannibals of Central Africa do, and to lie down and let every
snob and every cad and every halfpenny journalist walk over us.
Why, theres not a newspaper in England today that represents what
I call solid Bridgenorth opinion and tradition. Half of them read
as if they were published at the nearest mother's meeting, and
the other half at the nearest motor garage. Do you call these
chaps gentlemen? Do you call them Englishmen? I dont.[He throws
himself disgustedly into the nearest chair].

THE GENERAL [excited by Reginald's eloquence] Do you see my
uniform? What did Collins say? It strikes the eye. It was meant
to. I put it on expressly to give the modern army bounder a smack
in the eye. Somebody has to set a right example by beginning.
Well, let it be a Bridgenorth. I believe in family blood and
tradition, by George.

THE BISHOP [musing] I wonder who will begin the stand against
marriage. It must come some day. I was married myself before I'd
thought about it; and even if I had thought about it I was too
much in love with Alice to let anything stand in the way. But,
you know, Ive seen one of our daughters after another--Ethel,
Jane, Fanny, and Christina and Florence--go out at that door in
their veils and orange blossoms; and Ive always wondered whether
theyd have gone quietly if theyd known what they were doing. Ive
a horrible misgiving about that pamphlet. All progress means war
with Society. Heaven forbid that Edith should be one of the
combatants!