LESBIA [ironically] Poor fellow!

HOTCHKISS. The friends' wives are perhaps the solution of the
problem. You see, their husbands will also be outcasts; and the
poor ladies will occasionally pine for male society.

LESBIA. There is no reason why a mother should not have male
society. What she clearly should not have is a husband.

SOAMES. Anything else, Miss Grantham?

LESBIA. Yes: I must have my own separate house, or my own
separate part of a house. Boxer smokes: I cant endure tobacco.
Boxer believes that an open window means death from cold and
exposure to the night air: I must have fresh air always. We can
be friends; but we cant live together; and that must be put in
the agreement.

EDITH. Ive no objection to smoking; and as to opening the
windows, Cecil will of course have to do what is best for his
health.

THE BISHOP. Who is to be the judge of that, my dear? You or he?

EDITH. Neither of us. We must do what the doctor orders.

REGINALD. Doctor be--!

LEO [admonitorily] Rejjy!

REGINALD [to Soames] You take my tip, Anthony. Put a clause into
that agreement that the doctor is to have no say in the job. It's
bad enough for the two people to be married to one another
without their both being married to the doctor as well.

LESBIA. That reminds me of something very important. Boxer
believes in vaccination: I do not. There must be a clause that I
am to decide on such questions as I think best.

LEO [to the Bishop] Baptism is nearly as important as
vaccination: isnt it?

THE BISHOP. It used to be considered so, my dear.

LEO. Well, Sinjon scoffs at it: he says that godfathers are
ridiculous. I must be allowed to decide.

REGINALD. Theyll be his children as well as yours, you know.

LEO. Dont be indelicate, Rejjy.

EDITH. You are forgetting the very important matter of money.

COLLINS. Ah! Money! Now we're coming to it!

EDITH. When I'm married I shall have practically no money except
what I shall earn.

THE BISHOP. I'm sorry, Cecil. A Bishop's daughter is a poor man's
daughter.

SYKES. But surely you dont imagine that I'm going to let Edith
work when we're married. I'm not a rich man; but Ive enough to
spare her that; and when my mother dies--

EDITH. What nonsense! Of course I shall work when I'm married. I
shall keep your house.

SYKES. Oh, that!

REGINALD. You call that work?

EDITH. Dont you? Leo used to do it for nothing; so no doubt you
thought it wasnt work at all. Does your present housekeeper do it
for nothing?

REGINALD. But it will be part of your duty as a wife.

EDITH. Not under this contract. I'll not have it so. If I'm to
keep the house, I shall expect Cecil to pay me at least as well
as he would pay a hired housekeeper. I'll not go begging to him
every time I want a new dress or a cab fare, as so many women
have to do.

SYKES. You know very well I would grudge you nothing, Edie.

EDITH. Then dont grudge me my self-respect and independence. I
insist on it in fairness to you, Cecil, because in this way there
will be a fund belonging solely to me; and if Slattox takes an
action against you for anything I say, you can pay the damages
and stop the interest out of my salary.

SOAMES. You forget that under this contract he will not be
liable, because you will not be his wife in law.

EDITH. Nonsense! Of course I shall be his wife.

COLLINS [his curiosity roused] Is Slattox taking an action
against you, miss? Slattox is on the Council with me. Could I
settle it?

EDITH. He has not taken an action; but Cecil says he will.

COLLINS. What for, miss, if I may ask?

EDITH. Slattox is a liar and a thief; and it is my duty to expose
him.

COLLINS. You surprise me, miss. Of course Slattox is in a manner
of speaking a liar. If I may say so without offence, we're all
liars, if it was only to spare one another's feelings. But I
shouldnt call Slattox a thief. He's not all that he should be,
perhaps; but he pays his way.

EDITH. If that is only your nice way of saying that Slattox is
entirely unfit to have two hundred girls in his power as absolute
slaves, then I shall say that too about him at the very next
public meeting I address. He steals their wages under pretence of
fining them. He steals their food under pretence of buying it for
them. He lies when he denies having done it. And he does other
things, as you evidently know, Collins. Therefore I give you
notice that I shall expose him before all England without the
least regard to the consequences to myself.

SYKES. Or to me?

EDITH. I take equal risks. Suppose you felt it to be your duty to
shoot Slattox, what would become of me and the children? I'm sure
I dont want anybody to be shot: not even Slattox; but if the
public never will take any notice of even the most crying evil
until somebody is shot, what are people to do but shoot somebody?

SOAMES [inexorably] I'm waiting for my instructions as to the
term of the agreement.

REGINALD [impatiently, leaving the hearth and going behind
Soames] It's no good talking all over the shop like this. We
shall be here all day. I propose that the agreement holds good
until the parties are divorced.

SOAMES. They cant be divorced. They will not be married.

REGINALD. But if they cant be divorced, then this will be worse
than marriage.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Of course it will. Do stop this nonsense. Why,
who are the children to belong to?

LESBIA. We have already settled that they are to belong to the
mother.

REGINALD. No: I'm dashed if you have. I'll fight for the
ownership of my own children tooth and nail; and so will a good
many other fellows, I can tell you.

EDITH. It seems to me that they should be divided between the
parents. If Cecil wishes any of the children to be his
exclusively, he should pay a certain sum for the risk and trouble
of bringing them into the world: say a thousand pounds apiece.
The interest on this could go towards the support of the child as
long as we live together. But the principal would be my property.
In that way, if Cecil took the child away from me, I should at
least be paid for what it had cost me.

MRS BRIDGENORTH [putting down her knitting in amazement] Edith!
Who ever heard of such a thing!!

EDITH. Well, how else do you propose to settle it?

THE BISHOP. There is such a thing as a favorite child. What about
the youngest child--the Benjamin--the child of its parents'
matured strength and charity, always better treated and better
loved than the unfortunate eldest children of their youthful
ignorance and wilfulness? Which parent is to own the youngest
child, payment or no payment?

COLLINS. Theres a third party, my lord. Theres the child itself.
My wife is so fond of her children that they cant call their
lives their own. They all run away from home to escape from her.
A child hasnt a grown-up person's appetite for affection. A
little of it goes a long way with them; and they like a good
imitation of it better than the real thing, as every nurse knows.

SOAMEs. Are you sure that any of us, young or old, like the real
thing as well as we like an artistic imitation of it? Is not the
real thing accursed? Are not the best beloved always the good
actors rather than the true sufferers? Is not love always
falsified in novels and plays to make it endurable? I have
noticed in myself a great delight in pictures of the Saints and
of Our Lady; but when I fall under that most terrible curse of
the priest's lot, the curse of Joseph pursued by the wife of
Potiphar, I am invariably repelled and terrified.

HOTCHKISS. Are you now speaking as a saint, Father Anthony, or as
a solicitor?

SOAMES. There is no difference. There is not one Christian rule
for solicitors and another for saints. Their hearts are alike;
and their way of salvation is along the same road.

THE BISHOP. But "few there be that find it."  Can you find it for
us, Anthony?

SOAMES. It lies broad before you. It is the way to destruction
that is narrow and tortuous. Marriage is an abomination which the
Church has founded to cast out and replace by the communion of
saints. I learnt that from every marriage settlement I drew up as
a solicitor no less than from inspired revelation. You have set
yourselves here to put your sin before you in black and white;
and you cant agree upon or endure one article of it.

SYKES. It's certainly rather odd that the whole thing seems to
fall to pieces the moment you touch it.

THE BISHOP. You see, when you give the devil fair play he loses
his case. He has not been able to produce even the first clause
of a working agreement; so I'm afraid we cant wait for him any
longer.

LESBIA. Then the community will have to do without my children.

EDITH. And Cecil will have to do without me.

LEO [getting off the chest] And I positively will not marry
Sinjon if he is not clever enough to make some provision for my
looking after Rejjy. [She leaves Hotchkiss, and goes back to her
chair at the end of the table behind Mrs Bridgenorth].

MRS BRIDGENORTH. And the world will come to an end with this
generation, I suppose.

COLLINS. Cant nothing be done, my lord?

THE BISHOP. You can make divorce reasonable and decent: that is
all.

LESBIA. Thank you for nothing. If you will only make marriage
reasonable and decent, you can do as you like about divorce. I
have not stated my deepest objection to marriage; and I dont
intend to. There are certain rights I will not give any person
over me.

REGINALD. Well, I think it jolly hard that a man should support
his wife for years, and lose the chance of getting a really good
wife, and then have her refuse to be a wife to him.

LESBIA. I'm not going to discuss it with you, Rejjy. If your
sense of personal honor doesnt make you understand, nothing will.

SOAMES [implacably] I'm still awaiting my instructions.

They look at one another, each waiting for one of the others to
suggest something. Silence.

REGINALD [blankly] I suppose, after all, marriage is better than
--well, than the usual alternative.

SOAMES [turning fiercely on him] What right have you to say so?
You know that the sins that are wasting and maddening this
unhappy nation are those committed in wedlock.

COLLINS. Well, the single ones cant afford to indulge their
affections the same as married people.

SOAMES. Away with it all, I say. You have your Master's
commandments. Obey them.

HOTCHKISS [rising and leaning on the back of the chair left
vacant by the General] I really must point out to you, Father
Anthony, that the early Christian rules of life were not made to
last, because the early Christians did not believe that the world
itself was going to last. Now we know that we shall have to go
through with it. We have found that there are millions of years
behind us; and we know that that there are millions before us.
Mrs Bridgenorth's question remains unanswered. How is the world
to go on? You say that that is our business--that it is the
business of Providence. But the modern Christian view is that we
are here to do the business of Providence and nothing else. The
question is, how. Am I not to use my reason to find out why? Isnt
that what my reason is for? Well, all my reason tells me at
present is that you are an impracticable lunatic.

SOAMEs. Does that help?

HOTCHKISS. No.

SOAMEs. Then pray for light.

HOTCHKISS. No: I am a snob, not a beggar. [He sits down in the
General's chair].

COLLINS. We dont seem to be getting on, do we? Miss Edith: you
and Mr Sykes had better go off to church and settle the right and
wrong of it afterwards. Itll ease your minds, believe me: I speak
from experience. You will burn your boats, as one might say.

SOAMES. We should never burn our boats. It is death in life.

COLLINS. Well, Father, I will say for you that you have views of
your own and are not afraid to out with them. But some of us are
of a more cheerful disposition. On the Borough Council now, you
would be in a minority of one. You must take human nature as it
is.

SOAMES. Upon what compulsion must I? I'll take divine nature as
it is. I'll not hold a candle to the devil.

THE BISHOP. Thats a very unchristian way of treating the devil.

REGINALD. Well, we dont seem to be getting any further, do we?

THE BISHOP. Will you give it up and get married, Edith?

EDITH. No. What I propose seems to me quite reasonable.

THE BISHOP. And you, Lesbia?

LESBIA. Never.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. Never is a long word, Lesbia. Dont say it.

LESBIA [with a flash of temper] Dont pity me, Alice, please. As I
said before, I am an English lady, quite prepared to do without
anything I cant have on honorable conditions.

SOAMES [after a silence expressive of utter deadlock] I am still
awaiting my instructions.

REGINALD. Well, we dont seem to be getting along, do we?

LEO [out of patience] You said that before, Rejjy. Do not repeat
yourself.

REGINALD. Oh, bother! [He goes to the garden door and looks out
gloomily].

SOAMES [rising with the paper in his hands] Psha! [He tears it in
pieces]. So much for the contract!

THE VOICE OF THE BEADLE. By your leave there, gentlemen. Make way
for the Mayoress. Way for the worshipful the Mayoress, my lords
and gentlemen. [He comes in through the tower, in cocked hat and
goldbraided overcoat, bearing the borough mace, and posts himself
at the entrance]. By your leave, gentlemen, way for the
worshipful the Mayoress.

COLLINS [moving back towards the wall] Mrs George, my lord.

Mrs George is every inch a Mayoress in point of stylish dressing;
and she does it very well indeed. There is nothing quiet about
Mrs George; she is not afraid of colors, and knows how to make
the most of them. Not at all a lady in Lesbia's use of the term
as a class label, she proclaims herself to the first glance as
the triumphant, pampered, wilful, intensely alive woman who has
always been rich among poor people. In a historical museum she
would explain Edward the Fourth's taste for shopkeepers' wives.
Her age, which is certainly 40, and might be 50, is carried off
by her vitality, her resilient figure, and her confident
carriage. So far, a remarkably well-preserved woman. But her
beauty is wrecked, like an ageless landscape ravaged by long and
fierce war. Her eyes are alive, arresting and haunting; and there
is still a turn of delicate beauty and pride in her indomitable
chin; but her cheeks are wasted and lined, her mouth writhen and
piteous. The whole face is a battlefield of the passions, quite
deplorable until she speaks, when an alert sense of fun
rejuvenates her in a moment, and makes her company irresistible.

All rise except Soames, who sits down. Leo joins Reginald at the
garden door. Mrs Bridgenorth hurries to the tower to receive her
guest, and gets as far as Soames's chair when Mrs George appears.
Hotchkiss, apparently recognizing her, recoils in consternation
to the study door at the furthest corner of the room from her.

MRS GEORGE [coming straight to the Bishop with the ring in her
hand] Here is your ring, my lord; and here am I. It's your doing,
remember: not mine.

THE BISHOP. Good of you to come.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. How do you do, Mrs Collins?

MRS GEORGE [going to her past the Bishop, and gazing intently at
her] Are you his wife?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. The Bishop's wife? Yes.

MRS GEORGE. What a destiny! And you look like any other woman!

MRS BRIDGENORTH [introducing Lesbia] My sister, Miss Grantham.

MRS GEORGE. So strangely mixed up with the story of the General's
life?

THE BISHOP. You know the story of his life, then?

MRS GEORGE. Not all. We reached the house before he brought it up
to the present day. But enough to know the part played in it by
Miss Grantham.

MRS BRIDGENORTH [introducing Leo] Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth.

REGINALD. The late Mrs Reginald Bridgenorth.

LEO. Hold your tongue, Rejjy. At least have the decency to wait
until the decree is made absolute.

MRS GEORGE [to Leo] Well, youve more time to get married again
than he has, havnt you?

MRS BRIDGENORTH [introducing Hotchkiss] Mr St John Hotchkiss.

Hotchkiss, still far aloof by the study door, bows.

MRS GEORGE. What! That! [She makes a half tour of the kitchen and
ends right in front of him]. Young man: do you remember coming
into my shop and telling me that my husband's coals were out of
place in your cellar, as Nature evidently intended them for the
roof?

HOTCHKISS. I remember that deplorable impertinence with shame and
confusion. You were kind enough to answer that Mr Collins was
looking out for a clever young man to write advertisements, and
that I could take the job if I liked.

MRS GEORGE. It's still open. [She turns to Edith].

MRS BRIDGENORTH. My daughter Edith. [She comes towards the study
door to make the introduction].

MRS GEORGE. The bride! [Looking at Edith's dressing-jacket] Youre
not going to get married like that, are you?

THE BISHOP [coming round the table to Edith's left] Thats just
what we are discussing. Will you be so good as to join us and
allow us the benefit of your wisdom and experience?

MRS GEORGE. Do you want the Beadle as well? He's a married man.

They all turn, involuntarily and contemplate the Beadle, who
sustains their gaze with dignity.

THE BISHOP. We think there are already too many men to be quite
fair to the women.

MRS GEORGE. Right, my lord. [She goes back to the tower and
addresses the Beadle] Take away that bauble, Joseph. Wait for me
wherever you find yourself most comfortable in the neighborhood.
[The Beadle withdraws. She notices Collins for the first time].
Hullo, Bill: youve got em all on too. Go and hunt up a drink for
Joseph: theres a dear. [Collins goes out. She looks at Soames's
cassock and biretta]  What! Another uniform! Are you the sexton?
[He rises].

THE BISHOP. My chaplain, Father Anthony.

MRS GEORGE. Oh Lord! [To Soames, coaxingly] You dont mind, do
you?

SOAMES. I mind nothing but my duties.

THE BISHOP. You know everybody now, I think.

MRS GEORGE [turning to the railed chair] Who's this?

THE BISHOP. Oh, I beg your pardon, Cecil. Mr Sykes. The
bridegroom.

MRS GEORGE [to Sykes] Adorned for the sacrifice, arnt you?

SYKES. It seems doubtful whether there is going to be any
sacrifice.

MRS GEORGE. Well, I want to talk to the women first. Shall we go
upstairs and look at the presents and dresses?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. If you wish, certainly.

REGINALD. But the men want to hear what you have to say too.

MRS GEORGE. I'll talk to them afterwards: one by one.

HOTCHKISS [to himself] Great heavens!

MRS BRIDGENORTH. This way, Mrs Collins. [She leads the way out
through the tower, followed by Mrs George, Lesbia, Leo, and
Edith].

THE BISHOP. Shall we try to get through the last batch of letters
whilst they are away, Soames?

SOAMES. Yes, certainly. [To Hotchkiss, who is in his way] Excuse
me.

The Bishop and Soames go into the study, disturbing Hotchkiss,
who, plunged in a strange reverie, has forgotten where he is.
Awakened by Soames, he stares distractedly; then, with sudden
resolution, goes swiftly to the middle of the kitchen.

HOTCHKISS. Cecil. Rejjy. [Startled by his urgency, they hurry to
him]. I'm frightfully sorry to desert on this day; but I must
bolt. This time it really is pure cowardice. I cant help it.

REGINALD. What are you afraid of?

HOTCHKISS. I dont know. Listen to me. I was a young fool living
by myself in London. I ordered my first ton of coals from that
woman's husband. At that time I did not know that it is not true
economy to buy the lowest priced article: I thought all coals
were alike, and tried the thirteen shilling kind because it
seemed cheap. It proved unexpectedly inferior to the family
Silkstone; and in the irritation into which the first scuttle
threw me, I called at the shop and made an idiot of myself as she
described.

SYKES. Well, suppose you did! Laugh at it, man.

HOTCHKISS. At that, yes. But there was something worse. Judge of
my horror when, calling on the coal merchant to make a trifling
complaint at finding my grate acting as a battery of quick-firing
guns, and being confronted by his vulgar wife, I felt in her
presence an extraordinary sensation of unrest, of emotion, of
unsatisfied need. I'll not disgust you with details of the
madness and folly that followed that meeting. But it went as far
as this: that I actually found myself prowling past the shop at
night under a sort of desperate necessity to be near some place
where she had been. A hideous temptation to kiss the doorstep
because her foot had pressed it made me realize how mad I was. I
tore myself away from London by a supreme effort; but I was on
the point of returning like a needle to the lodestone when the
outbreak of the war saved me. On the field of battle the
infatuation wore off. The Billiter affair made a new man of me: I
felt that I had left the follies and puerilities of the old days
behind me for ever. But half-an-hour ago--when the Bishop sent
off that ring--a sudden grip at the base of my heart filled me
with a nameless terror--me, the fearless! I recognized its cause
when she walked into the room. Cecil: this woman is a harpy, a
siren, a mermaid, a vampire. There is only one chance for me:
flight, instant precipitate flight. Make my excuses.
Forget me. Farewell. [He makes for the door and is confronted by
Mrs George entering]. Too late: I'm lost. [He turns back and
throws himself desperately into the chair nearest the study door;
that being the furthest away from her].

MRS GEORGE [coming to the hearth and addressing Reginald] Mr
Bridgenorth: will you oblige me by leaving me with this young
man. I want to talk to him like a mother, on YOUR business.

REGINALD. Do, maam. He needs it badly. Come along, Sykes. [He
goes into the study].

SYKES [looks irresolutely at Hotchkiss]--?

HOTCHKISS. Too late: you cant save me now, Cecil. Go.

Sykes goes into the study. Mrs George strolls across to Hotchkiss
and contemplates him curiously.

HOTCHKISS. Useless to prolong this agony. [Rising] Fatal woman--
if woman you are indeed and not a fiend in human form--

MRS GEORGE. Is this out of a book? Or is it your usual society
small talk?

HOTCHKISS [recklessly] Jibes are useless: the force that is
sweeping me away will not spare you. I must know the worst at
once. What was your father?

MRS GEORGE. A licensed victualler who married his barmaid. You
would call him a publican, most likely.

HOTCHKISS. Then you are a woman totally beneath me. Do you deny
it? Do you set up any sort of pretence to be my equal in rank, in
age, or in culture?

MRS GEORGE. Have you eaten anything that has disagreed with you?

HOTCHKISS [witheringly] Inferior!

MRS GEORGE. Thank you. Anything else?

HOTCHKISS. This. I love you. My intentions are not honorable.
[She shows no dismay]. Scream. Ring the bell. Have me turned out
of the house.

MRS GEORGE [with sudden depth of feeling]  Oh, if you could
restore to this wasted exhausted heart one ray of the passion
that once welled up at the glance at the touch of a lover! It's
you who would scream then, young man. Do you see this face, once
fresh and rosy like your own, now scarred and riven by a hundred
burnt-out fires?

HOTCHKISS [wildly] Slate fires. Thirteen shillings a ton. Fires
that shoot out destructive meteors, blinding and burning, sending
men into the streets to make fools of themselves.

MRS GEORGE. You seem to have got it pretty bad, Sinjon.

HOTCHKISS. Dont dare call me Sinjon.

MRS GEORGE. My name is Zenobia Alexandrina. You may call me Polly
for short.

HOTCHKISS. Your name is Ashtoreth--Durga--there is no name yet
invented malign enough for you.

MRS GEORGE [sitting down comfortably] Come! Do you really think
youre better suited to that young sauce box than her husband? You
enjoyed her company when you were only the friend of the family--
when there was the husband there to shew off against and to take
all the responsibility. Are you sure youll enjoy it as much when
you are the husband? She isnt clever, you know. She's only silly-
clever.

HOTCHKISS [uneasily leaning against the table and holding on to
it to control his nervous movements] Need you tell me? fiend that
you are!

MRS GEORGE. You amused the husband, didnt you?

HOTCHKISS. He has more real sense of humor than she. He's better
bred. That was not my fault.

MRS GEORGE. My husband has a sense of humor too.

HOTCHKISS. The coal merchant?--I mean the slate merchant.

MRS GEORGE [appreciatively] He would just love to hear you talk.
He's been dull lately for want of a change of company and a bit
of fresh fun.

HOTCHKISS [flinging a chair opposite her and sitting down with an
overdone attempt at studied insolence] And pray what is your
wretched husband's vulgar conviviality to me?

MRS GEORGE. You love me?

HOTCHKISS. I loathe you.

MRS GEORGE. It's the same thing.

HOTCHKISS. Then I'm lost.

MRS GEORGE. You may come and see me if you promise to amuse
George.

HOTCHKISS. I'll insult him, sneer at him, wipe my boots on him.

MRS GEORGE. No you wont, dear boy. Youll be a perfect gentleman.

HOTCHKISS [beaten; appealing to her mercy] Zenobia--

MRS GEORGE. Polly, please.

HOTCHKISS. Mrs Collins--

MRS GEORGE. Sir?

HOTCHKISS. Something stronger than my reason and common sense is
holding my hands and tearing me along. I make no attempt to deny
that it can drag me where you please and make me do what you
like. But at least let me know your soul as you seem to know
mine. Do you love this absurd coal merchant?

MRS GEORGE. Call him George.

HOTCHKISS. Do you love your Jorjy Porjy?

MRS GEORGE. Oh, I dont know that I love him. He's my husband, you
know. But if I got anxious about George's health, and I thought
it would nourish him, I would fry you with onions for his
breakfast and think nothing of it. George and I are good friends.
George belongs to me. Other men may come and go; but George goes
on for ever.

HOTCHKISS. Yes: a husband soon becomes nothing but a habit.
Listen: I suppose this detestable fascination you have for me is
love.

MRS GEORGE. Any sort of feeling for a woman is called love
nowadays.

HOTCHKISS. Do you love me?

MRS GEORGE [promptly] My love is not quite so cheap an article as
that, my lad. I wouldnt cross the street to have another look at
you--not yet. I'm not starving for love like the robins in
winter, as the good ladies youre accustomed to are. Youll have to
be very clever, and very good, and very real, if you are to
interest me. If George takes a fancy to you, and you amuse him
enough, I'll just tolerate you coming in and out occasionally
for--well, say a month. If you can make a friend of me in that
time so much the better for you. If you can touch my poor dying
heart even for an instant, I'll bless you, and never forget you.
You may try--if George takes to you.

HOTCHKISS. I'm to come on liking for the month?

MRS GEORGE. On condition that you drop Mrs Reginald.

HOTCHKISS. But she wont drop me. Do you suppose I ever wanted to
marry her? I was a homeless bachelor; and I felt quite happy at
their house as their friend. Leo was an amusing little devil; but
I liked Reginald much more than I liked her. She didnt
understand. One day she came to me and told me that the
inevitable bad happened. I had tact enough not to ask her what
the inevitable was; and I gathered presently that she had told
Reginald that their marriage was a mistake and that she loved me
and could no longer see me breaking my heart for her in suffering
silence. What could I say? What could I do? What can I say now?
What can I do now?

MRS GEORGE. Tell her that the habit of falling in love with other
men's wives is growing on you; and that I'm your latest.

HOTCHKISS. What! Throw her over when she has thrown Reginald over
for me!

MRS GEORGE [rising] You wont then? Very well. Sorry we shant meet
again: I should have liked to see more of you for George's sake.
Good-bye [she moves away from him towards the hearth].

HOTCHKISS [appealing] Zenobia--

MRS. GEORGE. I thought I lead made a difficult conquest. Now I
see you are only one of those poor petticoat-hunting creatures
that any woman can pick up. Not for me, thank you. [Inexorable,
she turns towards the tower to go].

HOTCHKISS [following] Dont be an ass, Polly.

MRS GEORGE [stopping] Thats better.

HOTCHKISS. Cant you see that I maynt throw Leo over just because
I should be only too glad to. It would be dishonorable.

MRS GEORGE. Will you be happy if you marry her?

HOTCHKISS. No, great heaven, NO!

MRS GEORGE. Will she be happy when she finds you out?

HOTCHKISS. She's incapable of happiness. But she's not incapable
of the pleasure of holding a man against his will.

MRS GEORGE. Right, young man. You will tell her, please, that you
love me: before everybody, mind, the very next time you see her.

HOTCHKISS. But--

MRS GEORGE. Those are my orders, Sinjon. I cant have you marry
another woman until George is tired of you.

HOTCHKISS. Oh, if I only didnt selfishly want to obey you!

The General comes in from the garden. Mrs George goes half way to
the garden door to speak to him. Hotchkiss posts himself on the
hearth.

MRS GEORGE. Where have you been all this time?

THE GENERAL. I'm afraid my nerves were a little upset by our
conversation. I just went into the garden and had a smoke. I'm
all right now [he strolls down to the study door and presently
takes a chair at that end of the big table].

MRS GEORGE. A smoke! Why, you said she couldnt bear it.

THE GENERAL. Good heavens! I forgot! It's such a natural thing to
do, somehow.

Lesbia comes in through the tower.

MRS GEORGE. He's been smoking again.

LESBIA. So my nose tells me. [She goes to the end of the table
nearest the hearth, and sits down].

THE GENERAL. Lesbia: I'm very sorry. But if I gave it up, I
should become so melancholy and irritable that you would be the
first to implore me to take to it again.

MRS GEORGE. Thats true. Women drive their husbands into all sorts
of wickedness to keep them in good humor. Sinjon: be off with
you: this doesnt concern you.

LESBIA. Please dont disturb yourself, Sinjon. Boxer's broken
heart has been worn on his sleeve too long for any pretence of
privacy.

THE GENERAL. You are cruel, Lesbia: devilishly cruel. [He sits
down, wounded].

LESBIA. You are vulgar, Boxer.

HOTCHKISS. In what way? I ask, as an expert in vulgarity.

LESBIA. In two ways. First, he talks as if the only thing of any
importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry.
Second, he has no self-control.

THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia.

MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different:
it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss
Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self-
control.

LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And
pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and
women as people who have no self-control?

MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves
before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look
at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well
brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should
I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than
my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by
their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were
worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that
money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do
but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt
control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after
you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever
bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name
you could lay your tongue to?

LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No.

MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her
hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know
what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel
about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you.

LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a
thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of
no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another,
Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be
confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy
people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight,
sentimental people.

MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to
hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by
attacking, and getting well hammered yourself.

LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a
thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it.

MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as
clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live
for, would there?

TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are
the things you dont want.

LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier
man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the
very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that
is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the
qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave;
whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage
nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will
make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the
study].

THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask
you again, Lesbia.

LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door].

MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you?

LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear
for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study].

The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round
the table to him.

MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a
sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else.

THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a
thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long-
frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you:
bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with
emotion].

MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear
old warrior on the bounce, eh?

HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already!

MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it.
[She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He
suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You.
dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of
these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in
readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month.

HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your
husband this afternoon.

MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what
youve just done.

HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say?

MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house?

HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive
muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones.
Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt
frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all
these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly
afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for
your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar
people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and
humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes
it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than
expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses,
wouldnt you?

MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper!

HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the
oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can
bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you
dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me?

MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair
on your head.

HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands.

MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will,
I tell you. Let go.

HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George.

MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a
gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman?

HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you
think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me
when I call this afternoon.

MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my
life.

HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George.

MRS GEORGE. He wont be in.

HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone?

MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp
relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it?

HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home?

MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not.
The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call.

HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door
that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist,
I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the
coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your
acquaintance.

MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor
I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table
near the study door].

HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the
corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I
can.

MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully.

HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a
pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly.

MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep
you out of my house.

HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to
George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down
comes your house.

MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it.

HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to-
morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into
my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy.

MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be
driven into a trap like this?

HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are
married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the
power to spoil your life. I have that power over you.

MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it?

HOTCHKISS. I do.

MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be--

HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly!

MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness.

HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George?

MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness
or no happiness. Do your worst.

HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you
defy me?

MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to
keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the
other end of the table, her fingers crisping].

HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for
one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do
anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right
to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid
of me now to the end of your life.

MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you
with the mace for it [she makes for the tower].

HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across
to the tower to cut her off] You shant.

MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though?

HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve
forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the
Bishop?

MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall
respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He
kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool.

HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's
acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my
knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of
you then?

MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the
fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies
to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself
between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker.

THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest.

Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest
chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her
consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his
touch.

THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we
help you?

MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there,
you. Youre not wanted here.

HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to
blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating.

THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon.

Hotchkiss goes into the study.

THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner]
I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never
mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little
prayer; and youll be laughing at him.

MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault
as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of
that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in.

THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs
Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all
fond of Sinjon.

MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I
dont know?

THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you?
Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the
only possible argument.

MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman,
I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you
say that yourself years ago.

THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we
are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine
attribute.

MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever
you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was
from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through
you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and
wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching.

THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom
you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of
you.

MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As
I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud,
I'll kill myself.

THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For
becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason!

MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then
killing myself.

THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention
me?

MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven.

THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU
are Incognita Appassionata!

MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful
relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you.

THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making
you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me?

MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's
wife, could you?

THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife?

MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it.

THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to
laugh, isnt it?

MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from
a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell.

THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing.

MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know.

THE BISHOP. Yes?

MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we
could do at thirteen shillings a ton.

THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me.

MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask
somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns
to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods
understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either.

THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no
children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married.

MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do.

THE BISHOP. What! The sexton?

MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It
was only my ignorance.

THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls]
Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it.
[Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join
us, Anthony.

Soames looks puzzled.

MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly
gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she
says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it?

SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not
matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the
hearth].

THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants
you to hear.

SOAMES. I am listening.

THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now.

MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married.

SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord.

THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I
married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the
difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the
merest moonshine.

MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much
while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know
better if you were a widower?

THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter.

MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter?

THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should
imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice.

SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your
salvation?

THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very
particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very
particular about her character; and marry them to one another:
theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love;
Anthony.

SOAMES [with horror] I!!

THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her
sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money
instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her
sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For
her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance,
the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really
important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning
and nursing their salvation.

SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come
to care for all the others.

THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him.

MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care,
my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands.
And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart.

THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not
dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met
would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them
out now. Mrs Collins knows.

MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I
know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted
his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she
reels and is again convulsed].

THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you
ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames:
theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to
the study door.]

MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone.
Cant you hear anything?

THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with
intense surprise and interest].

MRS GEORGE. No music?

SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her
right, equally interested].

MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light?

THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness.

MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring.
[He does so. Her eyes close].

SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife
of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . .

The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open
vividly as she interrupts Soames.

MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life
have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly]
Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I
have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are
afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence.

SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired?

THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush.

MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I
have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have
come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed?

THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed?

SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message.

MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave
you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in
a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your
arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your
souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid
then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your
clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid
the price without bargaining: I bore the children without
flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I
carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I
opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to
you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept
you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I
no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent
eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We
possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you
my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all
things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your
own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not
enough? Was it not enough?