SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord?

THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to
Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can
you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you
are?

MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to
touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke
to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my
salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough:
I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I
have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for
my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier
in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I
have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is
no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing.

THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins.

SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming.

MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head
to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in.

Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study.

HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am
dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest
things, and not a syllable from you two.

SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil?

THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint?

HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod?

THE BISHOP. May not the three be one?

MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle
questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting
me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?--
[striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it
up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like
yourselves. Will you not take me as I am?

SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you?

THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you?

HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to
the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud
to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the
Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he
picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder].

MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the
Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is
mortified]. I beg your pardon.

THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me
[he kisses her hand].

MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it?

SOAMES. I!

HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful.

MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it
again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With
great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness
gracious has been happening?

HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very
charming and eloquent sort of fit.

MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh,
how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And
now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said:
I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just
bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself.
Thats how it is, you see.

Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat
on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes,
with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had
lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey
on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the
table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets,
like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She
sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower
on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips.

THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear?

EDITH. Yes.

THE BISHOP. With Cecil?

EDITH. Yes.

THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding?

No reply. Blank silence.

SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie.

EDITH. Tell them yourself.

The General comes in from the garden.

THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me
with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far
from settled.

THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important
to tell us.

SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all.

HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil?

SYKES. Well, what do you suppose?

EDITH. Got married, of course.

THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away?

SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman
did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees
that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us.
Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle.

THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for?

SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To
Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins?

MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a
moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her
forehead].

THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my
brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out
here.

SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he?

MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure
them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study.
Soames follows her].

THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must
say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public
uniform.

Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs
Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet
near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith.

THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married.

MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell
Collins.

Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He
seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with
his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table
corner, with his back to him.

LESBIA. You have both given in, have you?

EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything.

SOAMES. How?

EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that
insurance company--whats its name, Cecil?

SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you
against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies.

EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions
brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low
terms because I am a Bishop's daughter.

SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit
a crime I'll knock her down before a witness and go off to
Brighton with another lady.

LESBIA. Thats what you call providing for everything! [She goes
to the middle of the table on the garden side and sits down].

LEO. Do make him see there are no worms before he knocks you
down, Edith. Wheres Rejjy?

REGINALD [coming in from the study] Here. Whats the matter?

LEO [springing up and flouncing round to him] Whats the matter!
You may well ask. While Edie and Cecil were at the insurance
office I took a taxy and went off to your lodgings; and a nice
mess I found everything in. Your clothes are in a disgraceful
state. Your liver pad has been made into a kettle-holder. Youre
no more fit to be left to yourself than a one-year old baby.

REGINALD. Oh, I cant be bothered looking after things like that.
I'm all right.

LEO. Youre not: youre a disgrace. You never consider that youre a
disgrace to me: you think only of yourself. You must come home
with me and be taken proper care of: my conscience will not allow
me to let you live like a pig. [She arranges his necktie]. You
must stay with me until I marry St John; and then we can adopt
you or something.

REGINALD [breaking loose from her and stumping off past Hotchkiss
towards the hearth] No, I'm dashed if I'll be adopted by St John.
You can adopt him if you like.

HOTCHKISS [rising] I suggest that that would really be the better
plan, Leo. Ive a confession to make to you. I'm not the man you
took me for. Your objection to Rejjy was that he had low tastes.

REGINALD [turning] Was it? by George!

LEO. I said slovenly habits. I never thought he had really low
tastes until I saw that woman in court. How he could have chosen
such a creature and let her write to him after--

REGINALD. Is this fair? I never--

HOTCHKISS. Of course you didnt, Rejjy. Dont be silly, Leo. It's I
who really have low tastes.

LEO. You!

HOTCHKISS. Ive fallen in love with a coal merchant's wife. I
adore her. I would rather have one of her boot-laces than a lock
of your hair. [He folds his arms and stands like a rock].

REGINALD. You damned scoundrel, how dare you throw my wife over
like that before my face? [He seems on the point of assaulting
Hotchkiss when Leo gets between them and draws Reginald away
towards the study door].

LEO. Dont take any notice of him, Rejjy. Go at once and get that
odious decree demolished or annulled or whatever it is. Tell Sir
Gorell Barnes that I have changed my mind. [To Hotchkiss] I might
have known that you were too clever to be really a gentleman.
[She takes Reginald away to the oak chest and seats him there. He
chuckles. Hotchkiss resumes his seat, brooding].

THE BISHOP. All the problems appear to be solving themselves.

LESBIA. Except mine.

THE GENERAL. But, my dear Lesbia, you see what has happened here
to-day. [Coming a little nearer and bending his face towards
hers] Now I put it to you, does it not show you the folly of not
marrying?

LESBIA. No: I cant say it does. And [rising] you have been
smoking again.

THE GENERAL. You drive me to it, Lesbia. I cant help it.

LESBIA [standing behind her chair with her hands on the back of
it and looking radiant] Well, I wont scold you to-day. I feel in
particularly good humor just now.

TIE GENERAL. May I ask why, Lesbia?

LESBIA. [drawing a large breath] To think that after all the
dangers of the morning I am still unmarried! still independent!
still my own mistress! still a glorious strong-minded old maid of
old England!

Soames silently springs up and makes a long stretch from his end
of the table to shake her hand across it.

THE GENERAL. Do you find any real happiness in being your own
mistress? Would it not be more generous--would you not be happier
as some one else's mistress--

LESBIA. Boxer!

THE GENERAL [rising, horrified] No, no, you must know, my dear
Lesbia, that I was not using the word in its improper sense. I am
sometimes unfortunate in my choice of expressions; but you know
what I mean. I feel sure you would be happier as my wife.

LESBIA. I daresay I should, in a frowsy sort of way. But I prefer
my dignity and my independence. I'm afraid I think this rage for
happiness rather vulgar.

THE GENERAL. Oh, very well, Lesbia. I shall not ask you again.
[He sits down huffily].

LESBIA. You will, Boxer; but it will be no use. [She also sits
down again and puts her hand almost affectionately on his]. Some
day I hope to make a friend of you; and then we shall get on very
nicely.

THE GENERAL [starting up again] Ha! I think you are hard, Lesbia.
I shall make a fool of myself if I remain here. Alice: I shall go
into the garden for a while.

COLLINS [appearing in the tower] I think everything is in order
now, maam.

THE GENERAL [going to him] Oh, by the way, could you oblige me
[the rest of the sentence is lost in a whisper].

COLLINS. Certainly, General. [He takes out a tobacco pouch and
hands it to the General, who takes it and goes into the garden].

LESBIA. I dont believe theres a man in England who really and
truly loves his wife as much as he loves his pipe.

THE BISHOP. By the way, what has happened to the wedding party?

SYKES. I dont know. There wasnt a soul in the church when we were
married except the pew opener and the curate who did the job.

EDITH. They had all gone home.

MRS BRIDGENORTH. But the bridesmaids?

COLLINS. Me and the beadle have been all over the place in a
couple of taxies, maam; and weve collected them all. They were a
good deal disappointed on account of their dresses, and thought
it rather irregular; but theyve agreed to come to the breakfast.
The truth is, theyre wild with curiosity to know how it all
happened. The organist held on until the organ was nigh worn out,
and himself worse than the organ. He asked me particularly to
tell you, my lord, that he held back Mendelssohn till the very
last; but when that was gone he thought he might as well go too.
So he played God Save The King and cleared out the church. He's
coming to the breakfast to explain.

LEO. Please remember, Collins, that there is no truth whatever
in the rumor that I am separated from my husband, or that there
is, or ever has been, anything between me and Mr Hotchkiss.

COLLINS. Bless you, maam! one could always see that. [To Mrs
Bridgenorth] Will you receive here or in the hall, maam?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. In the hall. Alfred: you and Boxer must go there
and be ready to keep the first arrivals talking till we come. We
have to dress Edith. Come, Lesbia: come, Leo: we must all help.
Now, Edith. [Lesbia, Leo, and Edith go out through the tower].
Collins: we shall want you when Miss Edith's dressed to look over
her veil and things and see that theyre all right.

COLLINS. Yes, maam. Anything you would like mentioned about Miss
Lesbia, maam?

MRS BRIDGENORTH. No. She wont have the General. I think you may
take that as final.

COLLINS. What a pity, maam! A fine lady wasted, maam. [They shake
their heads sadly; and Mrs Bridgenorth goes out through the
tower].

THE BISHOP. I'm going to the hall, Collins, to receive. Rejjy: go
and tell Boxer; and come both of you to help with the small talk.
Come, Cecil. [He goes out through the tower, followed by Sykes].

REGINALD [to Hotchkiss] Youve always talked a precious lot about
behaving like a gentleman. Well, if you think youve behaved like
a gentleman to Leo, youre mistaken. And I shall have to take her
part, remember that.

HOTCHKISS. I understand. Your doors are closed to me.

REGINALD [quickly] Oh no. Dont be hasty. I think I should like
you to drop in after a while, you know. She gets so cross and
upset when theres nobody to liven up the house a bit.

HOTCHKISS. I'll do my best.

REGINALD [relieved] Righto. You wont mind, old chap, do you?

HOTCHKISS. It's Fate. Ive touched coal; and my hands are black;
but theyre clean. So long, Rejjy. [They shake hands; and Reginald
goes into the garden to collect Boxer].

COLLINS. Excuse me, sir; but do you stay to breakfast? Your name
is on one of the covers; and I should like to change it if youre
not remaining.

HOTCHKISS. How do I know? Is my destiny any longer in my own
hands? Go: ask SHE WHO MUST BE OBEYED.

COLLINS [awestruck] Has Mrs George taken a fancy to you, sir?

HOTCHKISS. Would she had! Worse, man, worse: Ive taken a fancy to
Mrs George.

COLLINS. Dont despair, sir: if George likes your conversation
youll find their house a very pleasant one--livelier than Mr
Reginald's was, I daresay.

HOTCHKISS [calling] Polly.

COLLINS [promptly] Oh, if it's come to Polly already, sir, I
should say you were all right.

Mrs George appears at the door of the study.

HOTCHKISS. Your brother-in-law wishes to know whether I'm to stay
for the wedding breakfast. Tell him.

MRS GEORGE. He stays, Bill, if he chooses to behave himself.

HOTCHKISS [to Collins] May I, as a friend of the family, have the
privilege of calling you Bill?

COLLINS. With pleasure, sir, I'm sure, sir.

HOTCHKISS. My own pet name in the bosom of my family is Sonny.

MRS GEORGE. Why didnt you tell me that before? Sonny is just the
name I wanted for you. [She pats his cheek familiarly; he rises
abruptly and goes to the hearth, where he throws himself moodily
into the railed chair] Bill: I'm not going into the hall until
there are enough people there to make a proper little court for
me. Send the Beadle for me when you think it looks good enough.

COLLINS. Right, maam. [He goes out through the tower].

Mrs George left alone with Hotchkiss and Soames, suddenly puts
her hands on Soames's shoulders and bends over him.

MRS GEORGE. The Bishop said I was to tempt you, Anthony.

SOAMES [without looking round] Woman: go away.

MRS GEORGE. Anthony:
                "When other lips and other hearts
                 Their tale of love shall tell

HOTCHKISS [sardonically]
                 In language whose excess imparts
                 The power they feel so well.

MRS GEORGE.
                 Though hollow hearts may wear a mask,
                 Twould break your own to see
                 In such a moment I but ask
                 That youll remember me."
And you will, Anthony. I shall put my spell on you.

SOAMES. Do you think that a man who has sung the Magnificat and
adored the Queen of Heaven has any ears for such trash as that or
any eyes for such trash as you--saving your poor little soul's
presence. Go home to your duties, woman.

MRS GEORGE [highly approving his fortitude] Anthony: I adopt you
as my father. Thats the talk! Give me a man whose whole life
doesnt hang on some scrubby woman in the next street; and I'll
never let him go [she slaps him heartily on the back].

SOAMES. Thats enough. You have another man to talk to. I'm busy.

MRS GEORGE [leaving Soames and going a step or two nearer
Hotchkiss] Why arnt you like him, Sonny? Why do you hang on to a
scrubby woman in the next street?

HOTCHKISS [thoughtfully] I must apologize to Billiter.

MRS GEORGE. Who is Billiter?

HOTCHKISS. A man who eats rice pudding with a spoon. Ive been
eating rice pudding with a spoon ever since I saw you first.[He
rises]. We all eat our rice pudding with a spoon, dont we,
Soames?

SOAMES. We are members of one another. There is no need to refer
to me. In the first place, I'm busy: in the second, youll find it
all in the Church Catechism, which contains most of the new
discoveries with which the age is bursting. Of course you should
apologize to Billiter. He is your equal. He will go to the same
heaven if he behaves himself and to the same hell if he doesnt.

MRS GEORGE [sitting down] And so will my husband the coal
merchant.

HOTCHKISS. If I were your husband's superior here I should be his
superior in heaven or hell: equality lies deeper than that. The
coal merchant and I are in love with the same woman. That settles
the question for me for ever. [He prowls across the kitchen to
the garden door, deep in thought].

SOAMES. Psha!

MRS GEORGE. You dont believe in women, do you, Anthony? He might
as well say that he and George both like fried fish.

HOTCHKISS. I do not like fried fish. Dont be low, Polly.

SOAMES. Woman: do not presume to accuse me of unbelief. And do
you, Hotchkiss, not despise this woman's soul because she speaks
of fried fish. Some of the victims of the Miraculous Draught of
Fishes were fried. And I eat fried fish every Friday and like it.
You are as ingrained a snob as ever.

HOTCHKISS [impatiently] My dear Anthony: I find you merely
ridiculous as a preacher, because you keep referring me to places
and documents and alleged occurrences in which, as a matter of
fact, I dont believe. I dont believe in anything but my own will
and my own pride and honor. Your fishes and your catechisms and
all the rest of it make a charming poem which you call your
faith. It fits you to perfection; but it doesnt fit me. I happen,
like Napoleon, to prefer Mohammedanism. [Mrs George, associating
Mohammedanism with polygamy, looks at him with quick suspicion].
I believe the whole British Empire will adopt a reformed
Mohammedanism before the end of the century. The character of
Mahomet is congenial to me. I admire him, and share his views of
life to a considerable extent. That beats you, you see, Soames.
Religion is a great force--the only real motive force in the world;
but what you fellows dont understand is that you must get at a man
through his own religion and not through yours. Instead of facing
that fact, you persist in trying to convert all men to your own
little sect, so that you can use it against them afterwards. You
are all missionaries and proselytizers trying to uproot the
native religion from your neighbor's flowerbeds and plant your
own in its place. You would rather let a child perish in
ignorance than have it taught by a rival sectary. You can talk to
me of the quintessential equality of coal merchants and British
officers; and yet you cant see the quintessential equality of all
the religions. Who are you, anyhow, that you should know better
than Mahomet or Confucius or any of the other Johnnies who have
been on this job since the world existed?

MRS GEORGE [admiring his eloquence] George will like you, Sonny.
You should hear him talking about the Church.

SOAMES. Very well, then: go to your doom, both of you. There is
only one religion for me: that which my soul knows to be true;
but even irreligion has one tenet; and that is the sacredness of
marriage. You two are on the verge of deadly sin. Do you deny
that?

HOTCHKISS. You forget, Anthony: the marriage itself is the deadly
sin according to you.

SOAMES. The question is not now what I believe, but what you
believe. Take the vows with me; and give up that woman if you
have the strength and the light. But if you are still in the grip
of this world, at least respect its institutions. Do you believe
in marriage or do you not?

HOTCHKISS. My soul is utterly free from any such superstition. I
solemnly declare that between this woman, as you impolitely call
her, and me, I see no barrier that my conscience bids me respect.
I loathe the whole marriage morality of the middle classes with
all my instincts. If I were an eighteenth century marquis I could
feel no more free with regard to a Parisian citizen's wife than I
do with regard to Polly. I despise all this domestic purity
business as the lowest depth of narrow, selfish, sensual, wife-
grabbing vulgarity.

MRS GEORGE [rising promptly] Oh, indeed. Then youre not coming
home with me, young man. I'm sorry; for its refreshing to have
met once in my life a man who wasnt frightened by my wedding
ring; but I'm looking out for a friend and not for a French
marquis; so youre not coming home with me.

HOTCHKISS [inexorably] Yes, I am.

MRS GEORGE. No.

HOTCHKISS. Yes. Think again. You know your set pretty well, I
suppose, your petty tradesmen's set. You know all its scandals
and hypocrisies, its jealousies and squabbles, its hundred of
divorce cases that never come into court, as well as its tens
that do.

MRS GEORGE. We're not angels. I know a few scandals; but most of
us are too dull to be anything but good.

HOTCHKISS. Then you must have noticed that just an all murderers,
judging by their edifying remarks on the scaffold, seem to be
devout Christians, so all Christians, both male and female, are
invariably people over-flowing with domestic sentimentality and
professions of respect for the conventions they violate in
secret.

MRS GEORGE. Well, you dont expect them to give themselves away,
do you?

HOTCHKISS. They are people of sentiment, not of honor. Now, I'm
not a man of sentiment, but a man of honor. I know well what will
happen to me when once I cross the threshold of your husband's
house and break bread with him. This marriage bond which I
despise will bind me as it never seems to bind the people who
believe in it, and whose chief amusement it is to go to the
theatres where it is laughed at. Soames: youre a Communist, arnt
you?

SOAMES. I am a Christian. That obliges me to be a Communist.

HOTCHKISS. And you believe that many of our landed estates were
stolen from the Church by Henry the eighth?

SOAMES. I do not merely believe that: I know it as a lawyer.

HOTCHKISS. Would you steal a turnip from one of the landlords of
those stolen lands?

SOAMES [fencing with the question] They have no right to their
lands.

HOTCHKISS. Thats not what I ask you. Would you steal a turnip
from one of the fields they have no right to?

SOAMES. I do not like turnips.

HOTCHKISS. As you are a lawyer, answer me.

SOAMES. I admit that I should probably not do so. I should
perhaps be wrong not to steal the turnip: I cant defend my
reluctance to do so; but I think I should not do so. I know I
should not do so.

HOTCHKISS. Neither shall I be able to steal George's wife. I have
stretched out my hand for that forbidden fruit before; and I know
that my hand will always come back empty. To disbelieve in
marriage is easy: to love a married woman is easy; but to betray
a comrade, to be disloyal to a host, to break the covenant of
bread and salt, is impossible. You may take me home with you,
Polly: you have nothing to fear.

MRS GEORGE. And nothing to hope?

HOTCHKISS. Since you put it in that more than kind way, Polly,
absolutely nothing.

MRS GEORGE. Hm! Like most men, you think you know everything a
woman wants, dont you? But the thing one wants most has nothing
to do with marriage at all. Perhaps Anthony here has a glimmering
of it. Eh, Anthony?

SOAMES. Christian fellowship?

MRS GEORGE. You call it that, do you?

SOAMES. What do you call it?

COLLINS [appearing in the tower with the Beadle]. Now, Polly, the
hall's full; and theyre waiting for you.

THE BEADLE. Make way there, gentlemen, please. Way for the
worshipful the Mayoress. If you please, my lords and gentlemen.
By your leave, ladies and gentlemen: way for the Mayoress.

Mrs George takes Hotchkiss's arm, and goes out, preceded by the
Beadle.

Soames resumes his writing tranquilly.