LADY CORINTHIA. Fish.

MITCHENER. Fish! This is worse than tush. Why fish?

LADY CORINTHIA. Yes, fish: coldblooded fish.

MITCHENER. Dash it all, madam, do you WANT me to make advances to
you?

LADY CORINTHIA. I have not the slightest intention of yielding to
them; but to make them would be a tribute to romance. What is
life without romance?

MITCHENER (making a movement toward her). I tell you--

LADY CORINTHIA. Stop. No nearer. No vulgar sensuousness. If you
must adore, adore at a distance.

MITCHENER. This is worse than Mrs. Banger. I shall ask that
estimable woman to come back.

LADY CORINTHIA. Poor Mrs. Banger! Do not for a moment suppose,
General Mitchener, that Mrs. Banger represents my views on the
suffrage question. Mrs. Banger is a man in petticoats. I am every
inch a woman; but I find it convenient to work with her.

MITCHENER. Do you find the combination comfortable?

LADY CORINTHIA. I do not wear combinations, General: (with
dignity) they are unwomanly.

MITCHENER (throwing himself despairingly into the chair next the
hearthrug). I shall go mad. I never for a moment dreamt of
alluding to anything of the sort.

LADY CORINTHIA. There is no need to blush and become self-
conscious at the mention of underclothing. You are extremely
vulgar, General.

MITCHENER. Lady Corinthia: you have my pistol. Will you have the
goodness to blow my brains out. I should prefer it to any further
effort to follow the gyrations of the weathercock you no doubt
call your mind. If you refuse, then I warn you that youll not get
another word out of me--not if we sit here until doomsday.

LADY CORINTHIA. I dont want you to talk. I want you to listen.
You do not yet understand my views on the question of the
Suffrage. (She rises to make a speech.) I must preface my remarks
by reminding you that the Suffraget movement is essentially a
dowdy movement. The suffragets are not all dowdies; but they are
mainly supported by dowdies. Now I am not a dowdy. Oh, no
compliments--

MITCHENER. I did not utter a sound.

LADY CORINTHIA (smiling). It is easy to read your thoughts. I am
one of those women who are accustomed to rule the world through
men. Man is ruled by beauty, by charm. The men who are not have
no influence. The Salic Law, which forbade women to occupy a
throne, is founded on the fact that when a woman is on the throne
the country is ruled by men, and therefore ruled badly; whereas
when a man is on the throne, the country is ruled by women, and
therefore ruled well. The suffragets would degrade women from
being rulers to being voters, mere politicians, the drudges of
the caucus and the polling booth. We should lose our influence
completely under such a state of affairs. The New Zealand women
have the vote. What is the result? No poet ever makes a New
Zealand woman his heroine. One might as well be romantic about
New Zealand mutton. Look at the suffragets themselves. The only
ones who are popular are the pretty ones, who flirt with mobs as
ordinary women flirt with officers.

MITCHENER. Then I understand you to hold that the country should
be governed by the women after all.

LADY CORINTHIA. Not by all the women. By certain women. I had
almost said by one woman. By the women who have charm--who have
artistic talent--who wield a legitimate, a refining influence
over the men. (She sits down gracefully, smiling, and arranging
her draperies with conscious elegance.)

MITCHENER. In short, madam, you think that if you give the vote
to the man, you give the power to the women who can get round the
man.

LADY CORINTHIA. That is not a very delicate way of putting it;
but I suppose that is how you would express what I mean.

MITCHENER. Perhaps youve never had any experience of garrison
life. If you had, you'd have noticed that the sort of woman who
is clever at getting round men is sometimes rather a bad lot.

LADY CORINTHIA. What do you mean by a bad lot?

MITCHENER. I mean a woman who would play the very devil if the
other women didnt keep her in pretty strict order. I dont approve
of democracy, because its rot; and Im against giving the vote to
women because Im not accustomed to it and therefore am able to
see with an unprejudiced eye what infernal nonsense it is. But I
tell you plainly, Lady Corinthia, that there is one game that I
dislike more than either Democracy or Votes For Women: and that
is the game of Antony and Cleopatra. If I must be ruled by women,
let me have decent women and not--well, not the other sort.

LADY CORINTHIA. You have a coarse mind, General Mitchener.

MITCHENER. So has Mrs. Banger. And by George! I prefer Mrs.
Banger to you!

LADY CORINTHIA (bounding to her feet.) You prefer Mrs. Banger to
me!!!

MITCHENER. I do. You said yourself she was splendid.

LADY CORINTHIA. You are no true man. You are one of those unsexed
creatures who have no joy in life, no sense of beauty, no high
notes.

MITCHENER. No doubt I am, Madam. As a matter of fact, I am not
clever at discussing public questions, because, as an English
gentleman, I was not brought up to use my brains. But
occasionally, after a number of remarks which are perhaps
sometimes rather idiotic, I get certain convictions. Thanks to
you, I have now got a conviction that this woman question is not
a question of lovely and accomplished females, but of dowdies.
The average Englishwoman is a dowdy and never has half a chance
of becoming anything else. She hasnt any charm; and she has no
high notes except when shes giving her husband a piece of her
mind, or calling down the street for one of the children.

LADY CORINTHIA. How disgusting!

MITCHENER. Somebody must do the dowdy work! If we had to choose
between pitching all the dowdies into the Thames and pitching all
the lovely and accomplished women, the lovely ones would have to
go.

LADY CORINTHIA. And if you had to do without Wagner's music or do
without your breakfast, you would do without Wagner. Pray does
that make eggs and bacon more precious than music, or the butcher
and baker better than the poet and philosopher? The scullery may
be more necessary to our bare existence than the cathedral. Even
humbler apartments might make the same claim. But which is the
more essential to the higher life?

MITCHENER. Your arguments are so devilishly ingenious that I feel
convinced you got them out of some confounded book. Mine--such as
they are--are my own. I imagine its something like this. There is
an old saying that if you take care of the pence, the pounds will
take care of themselves. Well, perhaps if we take care of the
dowdies and the butchers and the bakers, the beauties and the
bigwigs will take care of themselves. (Rising and facing her
determinedly.) Anyhow, I dont want to have things arranged for me
by Wagner. Im not Wagner. How does he know where the shoe pinches
me? How do you know where the shoe pinches your washerwoman?--you
and your high F in alt. How are you to know when you havent made
her comfortable unless she has a vote? Do you want her to come
and break your windows?

LADY CORINTHIA. Am I to understand that General Mitchener is a
democrat and a suffraget?

MITCHENER. Yes: you have converted me--you and Mrs. Banger.

LADY CORINTHIA. Farewell, creature. (Balsquith enters hurriedly.)
Mr. Balsquith: I am going to wait on General Sandstone. He at
least is an officer and a gentleman. (She sails out.)

BALSQUITH. Mitchener: the game is up.

MITCHENER. What do you mean?

BALSQUITH. The strain is too much for the Cabinet. The old
Liberal and Unionist Free Traders declare that if they are
defeated on their resolution to invite tenders from private
contractors for carrying on the Army and Navy, they will go solid
for votes for women as the only means of restoring the liberties
of the country which we have destroyed by compulsory military
service.

MITCHENER. Infernal impudence?

BALSQUITH. The Labor party is taking the same line. They say the
men got the Factory Acts by hiding behind the women's petticoats,
and that they will get votes for the army in the same way.

MITCHENER. Balsquith: we must not yield to clamor. I have just
told this lady that I am at last convinced--

BALSQUITH (joyfully). That the suffragets must be supported.

MITCHENER. No: that the anti-suffragets must be put down at all
hazards.

BALSQUITH. Same thing.

MITCHENER. No. For you now tell me that the Labor Party demands
votes for women. That makes it impossible to give them, because
it would be yielding to clamor. The one condition on which we can
consent to grant anything in this country is that nobody shall
presume to want it.

BALSQUITH (earnestly). Mitchener: its no use. You cant have the
conveniences of Democracy without its occasional inconveniences.

MITCHENER. What are its conveniences, I should like to know?

BALSQUITH. When you tell people that they are the real rulers and
they can do what they like, nine times out of ten, they say, "All
right, tell us what to do." But it happens sometimes that they
get an idea of their own; and then of course youre landed.

MITCHENER. Sh--

BALSQUITH (desperately shouting him down). No: its no use telling
me to shoot them down: Im not going to do it. After all, I dont
suppose votes for women will make much difference. It hasnt in
the other countries in which it has been tried.

MITCHENER. I never supposed it would make much difference. What I
cant stand is giving in to that Pankhurst lot. Hang it all,
Balsquith, it seems only yesterday that we put them in quod for a
month. I said at the time that it ought to have been ten years.
If my advice had been taken this wouldnt have happened. Its a
consolation to me that events are proving how thoroughly right I
was.

The Orderly rushes in.

THE ORDERLY. Look ere, sir: Mrs. Banger locked the door of
General Sandstone's room on the inside; and shes sitting on his
ead until he signs a proclamation for women to serve in the army.

MITCHENER. Put your shoulder to the door and burst it open.

THE ORDERLY. Its only in story books that doors burst open as
easy as that. Besides, Im only too thankful to have a locked door
between me and Mrs. B.; and so is all the rest of us.

MITCHENER. Cowards. Balsquith: to the rescue! (He dashes out.)

BALSQUITH (ambling calmly to the hearth). This is the business of
the Sergeant at Arms rather than of the leader of the House.
Theres no use in my tackling Mrs. Banger: she would only sit on
my head too.

THE ORDERLY. You take my tip, Mr. Balsquith. Give the women the
vote and give the army civil rights; and av done with it.

Mitchener returns.

MITCHENER. Balsquith: prepare to hear the worst.

BALSQUITH. Sandstone is no more?

MITCHENER. On the contrary, he is particularly lively. He has
softened Mrs. Banger by a proposal of marriage in which he
appears to be perfectly in earnest. He says he has met his ideal
at last, a really soldierly woman. She will sit on his head for
the rest of his life; and the British Army is now to all intents
and purposes commanded by Mrs. Banger. When I remonstrated with
Sandstone she positively shouted "Right-about-face. March" at me
in the most offensive tone. If she hadnt been a woman I should
have punched her head. I precious nearly punched Sandstone's. The
horrors of martial law administered by Mrs. Banger are too
terrible to be faced. I demand civil rights for the army.

THE ORDERLY (chuckling). Wot oh, General! Wot oh!

MITCHENER. Hold your tongue. (He goes to the door and calls.)
Mrs. Farrell! (Returning, and again addressing the Orderly.)
Civil rights don't mean the right to be uncivil. (Pleased with
his own wit.) Almost a pun. Ha ha!

MRS. FARRELL. Whats the matther now? (She comes to the table.)

MITCHENER (to the Orderly). I have private business with Mrs.
Farrell. Outside, you infernal blackguard.

THE ORDERLY (arguing, as usual). Well, I didnt ask to--
(Mitchener seizes him by the nape; rushes him out; and slams the
door).

MITCHENER. Excuse the abruptness of this communication, Mrs.
Farrell; but I know only one woman in the country whose practical
ability and force of character can maintain her husband in
competition with the husband of Mrs. Banger. I have the honor to
propose for your hand.

MRS. FARRELL. Dye mean you want to marry me?

MITCHENER. I do.

MRS. FARRELL. No thank you. Id have to work for you just the
same; only I shouldnt get any wages for it.

BALSQUITH. That will be remedied when women get the vote. Ive had
to promise that.

MITCHENER (winningly). Mrs. Farrell: you have been charwoman here
now ever since I took up my duties. Have you really never, in
your more romantic moments, cast a favorable eye on my person?

MRS. FARRELL. Ive been too busy casting an unfavorable eye on
your cloze and on the litther you make with your papers.

MITCHENER (wounded). Am I to understand that you refuse me?

MRS. FARRELL. Just wait a bit. (She takes Mitchener's chair and
rings up the telephone.) Double three oh seven Elephant.

MITCHENER. I trust youre not ringing for the police, Mrs.
Farrell. I assure you Im perfectly sane.

MRS. FARRELL (into the telephone). Is that you, Eliza? (She
listens for the answer.) Not out of bed yet! Go and pull her out
by the heels, the lazy sthreel; and tell her her mother wants to
speak to her very particularly about General Mitchener. (To
Mitchener.) Dont you be afeard: I know youre sane enough when
youre not talkin about the Germans. (Into the telephone.) Is that
you, Eliza? (She listens for the answer.) Dye remember me givin
you a clout on the side of the head for tellin me that if I only
knew how to play me cards I could marry any general on the staff
instead o disgracin you be bein a charwoman? (She listens for the
answer.) Well, I can have General Mitchener without playing any
cards at all. What dye think I ought to say? (She listens.) Well,
Im no chicken myself. (To Mitchener.) How old are you?

MITCHENER (with an effort). Fifty-two.

MRS. FARRELL (into the telephone). He says hes fifty-two. (She
listens; then, to Mitchener.) She says youre down in Who's Who as
sixty-one.

MITCHENER. Damn Who's Who.

MRS. FARRELL (into the telephone). Anyhow I wouldnt let that
stand in the way. (She listens.) If I really WHAT? (She
listens.)I cant hear you. If I really WHAT? (She listens.) WHO
druv him? I never said a word to-- Eh? (She listens.) Oh, LOVE
him. Arra dont be a fool, child. (To Mitchener.) She wants to
know do I really love you.(Into the telephone.) Its likely indeed
Id frighten the man off with any such nonsense, at my age. What?
(She listens.) Well, thats just what I was thinkin.

MITCHENER. May I ask what you were thinking, Mrs. Farrell? This
suspense is awful.

MRS. FARRELL. I was thinkin that perhaps the Duchess might like
her daughter-in-law's mother to be a General's lady betther than
to be a charwoman. (Into the telephone.) Waitle youre married
yourself, me fine lady: you'll find out that every woman is a
charwoman from the day shes married. (She listens.) Then you
think I might take him? (She listens.) Glang, you young scald: if
I had you here Id teach you manners. (She listens.) Thats enough
now. Back wid you to bed; and be thankful Im not there to put me
slipper across you. (She rings off.) The impudence! (To
Mitchener.) Bless you, me childher, may you be happy, she says.
(To Balsquith, going to his side of the room.) Give dear, old
Mich me love, she says.

The Orderly opens the door, ushering in Lady Corinthia.

THE ORDERLY. Lady Corinthia Fanshawe to speak to you, sir.

LADY CORINTHIA. General Mitchener: your designs on Mrs. Banger
are defeated. She is engaged to General Sandstone. Do you still
prefer her to me?

MRS. FARRELL. Hes out o the hunt. Hes engaged to me.

The Orderly overcome by this news reels from the door to the
standing desk, and clutches the stool to save himself from
collapsing.

MITCHENER. And extremely proud of it, Lady Corinthia.

LADY CORINTHIA (contemptuously). She suits you exactly. (Coming
to Balsquith.) Mr. Balsquith: you at least, are not a Philistine.

BALSQUITH. No, Lady Corinthia; but Im a confirmed bachelor. I
don't want a wife; but I want an Egeria.

MRS. FARRELL. More shame for you.

LADY CORINTHIA. Silence, woman. The position and functions of a
wife may suit your gross nature. An Egeria is exactly what I
desire to be. (To Balsquith.) Can you play accompaniments?

BALSQUITH. Melodies only, I regret to say. With one finger. But
my brother, who is a very obliging fellow, and not unlike me
personally, is acquainted with three chords, with which he
manages to accompany most of the comic songs of the day.

LADY CORINTHIA. I do not sing comic songs. Neither will you when
I am your Egeria. Come. I give a musical at-home this afternoon.
I will allow you to sit at my feet.

BALSQUITH. That is my ideal of romantic happiness. It commits me
exactly as far as I desire to venture. Thank you.

THE ORDERLY. Wot price me, General? Wont you celebrate your
engagement by doing something for me? Maynt I be promoted to be a
sergeant.

MITCHENER. Youre too utterly incompetent to discharge the duties
of a sergeant. You are only fit to be a lieutenant. I shall
recommend you for a commission.

THE ORDERLY. Hooray! The Parkinsons of Stepney will be proud to
have me call on them now. Ill go and tell the sergeant what I
think of him. Hooray! (He rushes out.)

MRS. FARRELL (going to the door and calling after him.) You might
have the manners to shut the door idther you. (She shuts it and
comes between Mitchener and Lady Corinthia.)

MITCHENER. Poor wretch; the day after civil rights are conceded
to the army he and Chubbs-Jenkinson will be found incapable of
maintaining discipline. They will be sacked and replaced by
really capable men. Mrs. Farrell: as we are engaged, and I am
anxious to do the correct thing in every way, I am quite willing
to kiss you if you wish it.

MRS. FARRELL. Youd only feel like a fool; and so would I.

MITCHENER. You are really the most sensible woman. Ive made an
extremely wise choice.

LADY CORINTHIA (To Balsquith). You may kiss my hand, if you wish.

BALSQUITH (cautiously). I think we had better not commit
ourselves too far. If I might carry your parasol, that would
quite satisfy me. Let us change a subject which threatens to
become embarrassing. (To Mitchener.) The moral of the occasion
for you, Mitchener, appears to be that youve got to give up
treating soldiers as if they were schoolboys.

MITCHENER. The moral for you, Balsquith, is that youve got to
give up treating women as if they were angels. Ha ha!

MRS. FARRELL. Its a mercy youve found one another out at last.
That's enough now.

CURTAIN