Plays Unpleasant (19 page)

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Authors: George Bernard Shaw

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CHARTERIS
. She made me. Why, I had to guarantee Cuthbertson as unmanly; and he's the Leading representative. of manly seltiment in Londan.

CRAVEN
. That didnt do Jo any harm; but it took away my Julia's character.

JULIA
[
outraged
] Daddy!

CHARTERIS
. Not at the Ibsen club: quite the contrary. After all, what can we do? You know what breaks up most clubs for men and women. Theres a quarrel – a scandal – cherchez la femme – always a woman at the bottom of it. Well, we knew this when we founded the club; but we noticed that the woman at the bottom of it was always a womanly woman. The unwomanly women who work for their living, and know how to take care of themselves, never give any trouble. So we simply said we wouldnt have any womanly women; and when one gets smuggled in
she has to take care not to behave in a womanly way. We get on all right. [
He rises
]. Come to lunch with me there tomorrow and see the place.

CUTHBERTSON
[
rising
] No: he's engaged to me. But you can join us.

CHARTERIS
. What hour?

CUTHBERTSON
. Any time after twelve. [
To Craven
] It's at 90 Cork Street, at the other end of the Burlington Arcade.

CRAVEN
[
making a note on his cuff
]90, you say. After twelve. [
Suddenly relapsing into gloom
] By the bye, dont order anything special for me. I'm not allowed wine: only Apol-linaris. No meat either: only a scrap of fish occasionally. I'm to have a short life, but not a merry one. [
Sighing
] Well, well! [
Bracing himself up
] Now Julia: it's time for us to be off [
Julia rises
].

CUTHBERTSON
. But where on earth is Grace? I must go and look for her. [
He turns to the door
].

JULIA
[
stopping him
] Oh pray dont disturb her, Mr Cuthbertson. She's so tired.

CUTHBERTSON
. But just for a moment, to say goodnight.
Julia and Charteris look at one another in dismay. Cuthbertson looks quickly at them, perceiving that something is wrong
].

CHARTERIS
. We must make a clean breast of it, I see.

CUTHBERTSON
. Of what?

CHARTERIS
. The truth is, Cuthbertson, Mrs Tranfield, who is, as you know, the most thoughtful of women, took it into her head that I – well, that I particularly wanted to speak to Miss Craven alone. So she said she was tired, and went to bed.

CRAVEN
[
scandalized
] Tut! tut!

CUTHBERTSON
. Oho! is that it? Then it's all right: she never goes to bed as early as this. I'll fetch her in a moment. [
He goes out confidently, leaving Charteris aghast
].

JULIA
. Now youve done it. [
She rushes to the round table, and snatches up her mantle and toque
]. I'm off. [
She makes for the door
].

CRAVEN
[
horrified
] What are you doing, Julia? You cant go until youve said goodnight to Mrs Tranfield. It'd be horribly rude.

JULIA
. You can stay if you like, Daddy: I cant. I'll wait for you in the hall. [
She hurries out
].

CRAVEN
[
following her
] But what on earth am I to say? [
She disappears, shutting the door behind her in his face. He turns to Charteris, grumbling
]. Now really you know, Charteris, this is devilish awkward: upon my life it is. That was a most indelicate thing of you to say plump out before us all: that about you and Julia.

CHARTERIS
. I'll explain it all tomorrow. Just at present we'd really better follow Julia's example and bolt. [
He starts for the door
].

CRAVEN
[
intercepting him
] Stop! dont leave me like this: I shall look like a fool. Now I shall really take it in bad part if you run away, Charteris.

CHARTERIS
. All right. I'll stay. [
He lifts himself on to the shoulder of the grand piano and sits there swinging his legs and contemplating Craven resignedly
].

CRAVEN
[
pacing up and down
] I'm excessively vexed about Julia's conduct: I am indeed. She cant bear to be crossed in the slightest thing, poor child. I'll have to apologize for her, you know: her going away is a downright slap in the face for these people here. Cuthbertson may be offended already for all I know.

CHARTERIS
. Oh, never mind about him. Mrs Tranfield bosses this establishment.

CRAVEN
[
cunningly
] Ah, thats it, is it? He's just the sort of fellow that would have no control over his daughter. [
He goes back to his former place on the hearthrug with his back to the fire
]. By the bye, what the dickens did he mean by all that about passing his life amid – what was it? – ‘scenes of suffering nobly endured and sacrifice willingly rendered by womanly women and manly men' and a lot more of the same sort? I suppose he's something in a hospital.

CHARTERIS
. Hospital! Nonsense! he's a dramatic critic. Didnt you hear me say he was the leading representative of manly sentiment in London?

CRAVEN
. You dont say so! Now really, who'd have thought it! How jolly it must be to be able to go to the theatre for nothing! I must ask him to get me a few tickets occasionally. But isnt it ridiculous for a man to talk like that? I'm hanged if he dont take what he sees on the stage quite seriously.

CHARTERIS
. of course: thats why he's a good critic. Besides, if you take people seriously off the stage, why shouldnt you take them seriously on it, where theyre under some sort of decent restraint? [
He jumps down from the piano, and goes to the window
].

Cuthbertson comes back
.

CUTHBERTSON
[
to Craven, rather sheepishly
] The fact is, Grace has gone to bed. I must apologize to you and Miss – [
He turns to Julia's seat, and stops on seeing it vacant
].

CRAVEN
[
embarrassed
] It is I who have to apologize for Julia, Jo. She –

CHARTERIS
[
interrupting
] She said she was quite sure that if we didnt go, youd persuade Mrs Tranfield to get up to say goodnight for the sake of politeness; so she went straight off.

CUTHBERTSON
. Very kind of her indeed. I'm really ashamed –

CRAVEN
. Dont mention it, Jo: dont mention it. She's waiting for me below. [
Going
] Goodnight. Goodnight, Charteris.

CHARTERIS
. Goodnight.

CUTHBERTSON
[
seeing Craven out
] Goodnight. Say goodnight and thanks to Miss Craven for me. Tomorrow any time after twelve, remember. [
They go out
].

Charteris, with a long sigh, crosses to the fireplace, thoroughly tired out
.

CRAVEN
[
outside
] All right.

CUTHBERTSON
[
outside
] Take care of the stairs: theyre rather steep. Goodnight. [
The outside door shuts
].

Cuthbertson returns. Instead of entering, he stands impressively in the doorway with one hand in the breast of his waistcoat, eyeing Charteris sternly
.

CHARTERIS
. Whats the matter?

CUTHBERTSON
[
sternly
] Charteris: what has been going on here? I insist on knowing. Grace has not gone to bed: I have seen and spoken with her. What is it all about?

CHARTERIS
. Ask your theatrical experience, Cuthbertson. A man, of course.

CUTHBERTSON
[
coming forward and confronting him
] Dont play the fool with me, Charteris: I'm too old a hand to be amused by it. I ask you, seriously, what is the matter?

CHARTERIS
. I tell you, seriously, I'm the matter. Julia wants to marry me: I want to marry Grace. I came here tonight to sweetheart Grace. Enter Julia. Alarums and excursions. Exit Grace. Enter you and Craven. Subterfuges and excuses. Exeunt Craven and Julia. And here we are. Thats the whole story. Sleep over it. Goodnight. [
He leaves
].

CUTHBERTSON
[
staring after him
] Well I'll be –

ACT II

Next day at noon, in the library of the Ibsen club. A long room, with glass doors half-way down on both sides, leading respectively to the dining room corridor and the main staircase. At the end, in the middle, is the fireplace, surmounted by a handsome mantelpiece, with a bust of Ibsen, and decorative inscriptions of the titles of his plays. There are circular recesses at each side of the fireplace, with divan seats running round them, the space above the divans lined with books. A long settee faces the fire. Along the back of the settee, and touching it, is a green table, littered with journals. Ibsen, looking down the room, has the dining door on his left, and further on, nearly in the middle of the library, a revolving bookcase, with an easy chair close to it. On his right, between the door and the recess, is a light library step-ladder. Further on, past the door an easy chair, and a smaller one between it and the middle of the room. Placards inscribed
SILENCE
are conspicuously exhibited here and there
.

Cuthbertson is seated in the easy chair at the revolving bookstand, reading The Daily Graphic. Dr Paramore is on the divan in the recess on Ibsen's right, reading The British Medical Journal. He is young as age is counted in the professions: barely forty. His hair is wearing bald on his forehead; and his dark arched eyebrows, coming rather close together, give him a conscientiously sinister appearance. He wears the frock coat of the fashionable physician, and cultivates the professional bedside manner with scrupulous conventionality. Not at all a happy or frank man, but not consciously unhappy nor intentionally insincere, and highly self-satisfied intellectually
.

Sylvia Craven is sitting in the middle of the settee before the fire, reading a volume of Ibsen, only the back of her head being visible from the middle of the room. She is a pretty girl of eighteen, small and trim, wearing a mountaineering suit of Norfolk jacket and breeches with neat town stockings and shoes. A detachable cloth skirt lies ready to her hand across the end of the settee
.

A page boy's voice, monotonously calling for Dr Paramore, is heard approaching outside on the right
.

THE PAGE
[
outside
] Dr Paramore, Dr Paramore, Dr Paramore [
he enters, carrying a salver with a card on it
] Dr Par –

PARAMORE
[
sharply sitting up
] Here, boy. [
The boy presents the salver. Paramore takes the card and looks at it
]. All right: I'll come down to him. [
The boy goes. Paramore rises, and comes from the recess, throwing his paper on the table
] Good morning, Mr Cuthbertson [
stopping to pull out his cuffs, and shake his coat straight
]. Mrs Tranfield quite well, I hope?

SYLVIA
[
turning her head indignantly
] Sh – sh – sh!

Paramore turns, surprised. Cuthbertson rises energetically and looks across the bookstand to see who is the author of this impertinence
.

PARAMORE
[to
Sylvia stiffly
] I beg your pardon, Miss Craven; I did not mean to disturb you.

SYLVIA
[
flustered and self-assertive
] You may talk as much as you like if you will have the common consideration to ask first whether the other people object. What I protest against is your assumption that my presence doesnt matter because I'm only a female member. Thats all. Now go on, pray: you dont disturb me in the least. [
She turns to the fire
,
and again buries herself in Ibsen
].

CUTHBERTSON
[
with emphatic dignity
] No gentleman would have dreamt of objecting to our exchanging a few words, madam. [
She takes no notice. He resumes angrily
] As a matter of fact I was about to say to Dr Paramore that if he would care to bring his visitor up here,
I
should not object. The impudence! [
He dashes his paper down on the chair
].

PARAMORE
. Oh, many thanks; but it's only an instrument maker.

CUTHBERTSON
. Any new medical discoveries, doctor?

PARAMORE
. Well, since you ask me, yes; perhaps a most important one. I have discovered something that has hitherto been overlooked; a minute duct in the liver of the guinea pig. Miss Craven will forgive my mentioning it when I say that it may throw an important light on her father's case. The first thing, of course, is to find out what the duct is there for.

CUTHBERTSON
[
reverently, feeling that he is in the presence of Science
] Indeed? How will you do that?

PARAMORE
. Oh, easily enough, by simply cutting the duct, and seeing what will happen to the guinea pig. [
Sylvia rises, horrified
]. I shall require a knife specially made to get at it. The man who is waiting for me downstairs has brought me a few handles to try before fitting it and sending it to the laboratory. I am afraid it would not do to bring such weapons up here.

SYLVIA
. If you attempt such a thing, Dr Paramore, I will complain to the committee. A majority of the members are anti-vivisectionists. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. [
She snatches up the detachable skirt, and begins buttoning it on as she flounces out at the staircase door
].

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