Текст книги "Pygmalion and Three Other Plays"

Автор книги: George Bernard Shaw

Соавторы: John A. Bertolini
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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 44 страниц)

MRS DUBEDAT [heartbroken] Stay with me, Louis. Oh, dont leave me, dearest.

LOUIS Not that I’m selfish. With all my faults I dont think Ive ever been really selfish. No artist can: Art is too large for that. You will marry again, Jennifer.

MRS DUBEDAT Oh, how can you, Louis?

LOUIS [insisting childishly] Yes, because people who have found marriage happy always marry again. Ah, I shant be jealous. [Slyly] But dont talk to the other fellow too much about me: he wont like it. [Almost chuckling] I shall be your lover all the time; but it will be a secret from him, poor devil!

SIR PATRICK Come! youve talked enough. Try to rest awhile.

LOUIS [wearily] Yes: I’m fearfully tired; but I shall have a long rest presently. I have something to say to you fellows. Youre all there, arnt you? I’m too weak to see anything but Jennifer’s bosom. That promises rest.

RIDGEON We are all here.

LOUIS [startled] That voice sounded devilish. Take care, Ridgeon: my ears hear things that other people’s ears cant. Ive been thinking – thinking. I’m cleverer than you imagine.

SIR PATRICK [whispering to RIDGEON] Youve got on his nerves, Colly. Slip out quietly.

RIDGEON [apart to SIR PATRICK] Would you deprive the dying actor of his audience?

LOUIS [his face lighting up faintly with mischievous glee] I heard that, Ridgeon. That was good. Jennifer, dear: be kind to Ridgeon always; because he was the last man who amused me.

RIDGEON [relentless] Was I?

LOUIS But it’s not true. It’s you who are still on the stage. I’m half way home already.

MRS DUBEDAT [to RIDGEON] What did you say?

LOUIS [answering for him] Nothing, dear. Only one of those little secrets that men keep among themselves. Well, all you chaps have thought pretty hard things of me, and said them.

B. B. [quite overcome] No, no, Dubedat. Not at all.

LOUIS Yes, you have. I know what you all think of me. Dont imagine I’m sore about it. I forgive you.

WALPOLE [involuntarily] Well, damn me! [Ashamed] I beg your pardon.

LOUIS That was old Walpole, I know. Dont grieve, Walpole. I’m perfectly happy. I’m not in pain. I dont want to live. Ive escaped from myself. I’m in heaven, immortal in the heart of my beautiful Jennifer. I’m not afraid, and not ashamed. [Reflectively, puzzling it out for himself weakly] I know that in an accidental sort of way, struggling through the unreal part of life, I havnt always been able to live up to my ideal. But in my own real world I have never done anything wrong, never denied my faith, never been untrue to myself. Ive been threatened and blackmailed and insulted and starved. But Ive played the game. Ive fought the good fight. And now it’s all over, theres an indescribable peace. [He feebly folds his hands and utters his creed]. I believe in Michael Angelo, Velasquez, and Rembrandt; in the might of design, the mystery of color, the redemption of all things by Beauty everlasting, and the message of Art that has made these hands blessed. Amen. Amen.^{43} [He closes his eyes and lies still].

MRS DUBEDAT [breathless] Louis: are you – WALPOLE rises and comes quickly to see whether he is dead.

LOUIS Not yet, dear. Very nearly, but not yet. I should like to rest my head on your bosom; only it would tire you.

MRS DUBEDAT No, no, no, darling: how could you tire me? [She lifts him so that he lies on her bosom].

LOUIS Thats good. Thats real.

MRS DUBEDAT Dont spare me, dear. Indeed, indeed you will not tire me. Lean on me with all your weight.

LOUIS [with a sudden half return of his normal strength and comfort] Jinny Gwinny: I think I shall recover after all. [SIR PATRICK looks significantly at RIDGEON, mutely warning him that this is the end].

MRS DUBEDAT [hopefully] Yes, yes: you shall.

LOUIS Because I suddenly want to sleep. Just an ordinary sleep.

MRS DUBEDAT [rocking him] Yes, dear. Sleep. [He seems to go to sleep. WALPOLE makes another movement. She protests]. Sh-sh: please dont disturb him. [His lips move]. What did you say, dear? [In great distress] I cant listen without moving him. [His lips move again: WALPOLE bends down and listens].

WALPOLE He wants to know is the newspaper man here.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN [excited;for he has been enjoying himself enormously] Yes, Mr Dubedat. Here I am.

WALPOLE raises his hand warningly to silence him. SIR RALPH sits down quietly on the sofa and frankly buries his face in his handkerchief.

MRS DUBEDAT [with great relief] Oh thats right, dear: dont spare me: lean with all your weight on me. Now you are really resting.

SIR PATRICK quickly comes forward and feels LOUIS’s pulse; then takes him by the shoulders.

SIR PATRICK Let me put him back on the pillow, maam. He will be better so.

MRS DUBEDAT [piteously] Oh no, please, please, doctor. He is not tiring me; and he will be so hurt when he wakes if he finds I have put him away.

SIR PATRICK He will never wake again. [He takes the body from her and replaces it in the chair. RIDGEON, unmoved, lets down the back and makes a bier of it].

MRS DUBEDAT [who has unexpectedly sprung to her feet, and stands dry-eyed and stately] Was that death?

WALPOLE Yes.

MRS DUBEDAT [with complete dignity] Will you wait for me a moment? I will come back. [She goes out].

WALPOLE Ought we to follow her? Is she in her right senses?

SIR PATRICK [with quiet conviction] Yes. She’s all right. Leave her alone. She’ll come back.

RIDGEON [callously] Let us get this thing out of the way before she comes.

B. B. [rising, shocked] My dear Colly! The poor lad! He died splendidly.

SIR PATRICK Aye! that is how the wicked die.

For there are no bands in their death;

But their strength is firm:

They are not in trouble as other men.[168]168
  Quotation from the Bible, Psalm 73:4-5 (KJV).


[Закрыть]

No matter: it’s not for us to judge. He’s in another world now.

WALPOLE Borrowing his first five-pound note there, probably.

RIDGEON I said the other day that the most tragic thing in the world is a sick doctor. I was wrong. The most tragic thing in the world is a man of genius who is not also a man of honor.

RIDGEON and WALPOLE wheel the chair into the recess.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN [to SIR RALPH] I thought it shewed a very nice feeling, his being so particular about his wife going into proper mourning for him and making her promise never to marry again.

B. B. [impressively] Mrs Dubedat is not in a position to carry the interview any further. Neither are we.

SIR PATRICK Good afternoon to you.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN Mrs Dubedat said she was coming back.

B. B. After you have gone.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN Do you think she would give me a few words on How It Feels to be a Widow? Rather a good title for an article, isnt it?

B. B. Young man: if you wait until Mrs Dubedat comes back, you will be able to write an article on How It Feels to be Turned Out of the House.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN [unconvinced] You think she’d rather not —

B. B. [cutting him short] Good day to you. [Giving him a visiting-card] Mind you get my name correctly. Good day.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN Good day. Thank you. [Vaguely trying to read the card] Mr —

B. B. No, not Mister. This is your hat, I think [giving it to him]. Gloves? No, of course: no gloves. Good day to you. [He edges him out at last; shuts the door on him; and returns to SIR PATRICK as RIDGEON and WALPOLE come back from the recess, WALPOLE crossing the room to the hat-stand, and Ridgeon coming between SIR RALPH and SIR PATRICK]. Poor fellow! Poor young fellow! How well he died! I feel a better man, really.

SIR PATRICK When youre as old as I am, youll know that it matters very little how a man dies. What matters is, how he lives. Every fool that runs his nose against a bullet is a hero nowadays, because he dies for his country. Why dont he live for it to some purpose?

B. B. No, please, Paddy: dont be hard on the poor lad. Not now, not now. After all, was he so bad? He had only two failings: money and women. Well, let us be honest. Tell the truth, Paddy. Dont be hypocritical, Ridgeon. Throw off the mask, Walpole. Are these two matters so well arranged at present that a disregard of the usual arrangements indicates real depravity?

WALPOLE I dont mind his disregarding the usual arrangements. Confound the usual arrangements! To a man of science theyre beneath contempt both as to money and women. What I mind is his disregarding everything except his own pocket and his own fancy. He didnt disregard the usual arrangements when they paid him. Did he give us his pictures for nothing? Do you suppose he’d have hesitated to blackmail me if I’d compromised myself with his wife? Not he.

SIR PATRICK Dont waste your time wrangling over him. A blackguard’s a blackguard; an honest man’s an honest man; and neither of them will ever be at a loss for a religion or a morality to prove that their ways are the right ways. It’s the same with nations, the same with professions, the same all the world over and always will be.

B. B. Ah, well, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Still, d e m o r tuis nil nisi bonum.[169]169
  Of the dead [say] nothing but good (Latin).


[Закрыть] He died extremely well, remarkably well. He has set us an example: let us endeavor to follow it rather than harp on the weaknesses that have perished with him. I think it is Shakespear who says that the good that most men do lives after them: the evil lies interred with their bones. Yes: interred with their bones. Believe me, Paddy, we are all mortal. It is the common lot, Ridgeon. Say what you will, Walpole, Nature’s debt must be paid. If tis not to-day, twill be to-morrow.

To-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow

After life’s fitful fever they sleep well

And like this insubstantial bourne from which

No traveller returns

Leave not a wrack behind.

WALPOLE is about to speak, but B. B., suddenly and vehemently proceeding, extinguishes him.

Out, out, brief candle:

For nothing canst thou to damnation add

The readiness is all. ^{44}

WALPOLE [gently; for B. B’s feeling, absurdly expressed as it is, is too sincere and humane to be ridiculed] Yes, B. B. Death makes people go on like that. I dont know why it should; but it does. By the way, what are we going to do? Ought we to clear out; or had we better wait and see whether Mrs Dubedat will come back?

SIR PATRICK I think we’d better go. We can tell the charwoman what to do.

They take their hats and go to the door.

MRS DUBEDAT [coming from the inner door wonderfully and beautifully dressed, and radiant, carrying a great piece of purple silk, handsomely embroidered, over her arm] I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting.

MRS DUBEDAT [coming to them] I felt that I must shake hands with his friends once before we part to-day. We have shared together a great privilege and a great happiness. I dont think we can ever think of ourselves as ordinary people again. We have had a wonderful experience; and that gives us a common faith, a common ideal, that nobody else can quite have. Life will always be beautiful to us: death will always be beautiful to us. May we shake hands on that?

SIR PATRICK [shaking hands] Remember: all letters had better be left to your solicitor. Let him open everything and settle everything. Thats the law, you know.

MRS DUBEDAT Oh, thank you: I didnt know. [SIR PATRICK goes].

WALPOLE Good-bye. I blame myself: I should have insisted on operating. [He goes].

B. B. I will send the proper people: they will know what to do: you shall have no trouble. Good-bye, my dear lady. [He goes].

RIDGEON Good-bye. [He offers his hand].

MRS DUBEDAT [drawing back with gentle majesty] I said his f r i e n d s, Sir Colenso. [He bows and goes].

She unfolds the great piece of silk, and goes into the recess to cover her dead.

ACT V

One of the smaller Bond Street [170]170
  Expensive shopping area in London.


[Закрыть] Picture Galleries. The entrance is from a picture shop. Nearly in the middle of the gallery there is a writing-table, at which the Secretary, fashionably dressed, sits with his back to the entrance, correcting catalogue proofs. Some copies of a new book are on the desk, also the Secretary’s shining hat and a couple of magnifying glasses. At the side, on his left, a little behind him, is a small door marked PRIVATE. Near the same side is a cushioned bench parallel to the walls, which are covered with Dubedat’s works. Two screens, also covered with drawings, stand near the corners right and left of the entrance.

Jennifer, beautifully dressed and apparently very happy and prosperous, comes into the gallery through the private door.

JENNIFER Have the catalogues come yet, Mr Danby?

THE SECRETARY Not yet.

JENNIFER What a shame! It’s a quarter past: the private view will begin in less than half an hour.

THE SECRETARY I think I’d better run over to the printers to hurry them up.

JENNIFER Oh, if you would be so good, Mr Danby. I’ll take your place while youre away.

THE SECRETARY If anyone should come before the time dont take any notice. The commissionaire wont let anyone through unless he knows him. We have a few people who like to come before the crowd – people who really buy; and of course we’re glad to see them. Have you seen the notices in Brush and Crayon and in The Easel?

JENNIFER [indignantly] Yes: most disgraceful. They write quite patronizingly, as if they were Mr Dubedat’s superiors. After all the cigars and sandwiches they had from us on the press day, and all they drank, I really think it is infamous that they should write like that. I hope you have not sent them tickets for to-day.

THE SECRETARY Oh, they wont come again: theres no lunch to-day. The advance copies of your book have come. [He indicates the new books].

JENNIFER [pouncing on a copy, wildly excited] Give it to me. Oh! excuse me a moment [she runs away with it through the private door]. The SECRETARY takes a mirror from his drawer and smartens himself before going out. RIDGEON comes in.

RIDGEON Good morning. May I look round, as usual, before the doors open?

THE SECRETARY Certainly, Sir Colenso. I’m sorry the catalogues have not come: I’m just going to see about them. Heres my own list, if you dont mind.

RIDGEON Thanks. Whats this? [He takes up one of the new books] .

THE SECRETARY Thats just come in. An advance copy of Mrs Dubedat’s Life of her late husband.

RIDGEON [reading the title] The Story of a King of Men. By His Wife. [He looks at the portrait frontis-piece]. Ay: there he is. You knew him here, I suppose.

THE SECRETARY Oh, we knew him. Better than she did, Sir Colenso, in some ways, perhaps.

RIDGEON So did I. [They look significantly at one another]. I’ll take a look round.

The SECRETARY puts on the shining hat and goes out. RIDGEON begins looking at the pictures. Presently he comes back to the table for a magnifying glass, and scrutinizes a drawing very closely. He sighs; shakes his head, as if constrained to admit the extraordinary fascination and merit of the work; then marks the SECRETARY’s list. Proceeding with his survey, he disappears behind round the screen.

JENNIFER comes back with her book. A look round satisfies her that she is alone. She seats herself at the table and admires the memoir – her first printed book – to her heart’s content. RIDGEON re-appears, face to the wall, scrutinizing the drawings. After using his glass again, he steps back to get a more distant view of one of the larger pictures. She hastily closes the book at the sound; looks round; recognizes him; and stares, petrified. He takes a further step back which brings him nearer to her.

RIDGEON [shaking his head as before, ejaculates] Clever brute!

[She flushes as though he had struck her. He turns to put the glass down on the desk, and finds himself face to face with her intent gaze]. I beg your pardon. I thought I was alone.

JENNIFER [controlling herself, and speaking steadily and meaningly] I am glad we have met, Sir Colenso Ridgeon. I met Dr Blenkinsop yesterday. I congratulate you on a wonderful cure.

RIDGEON [can find no words: makes an embarrassed gesture of assent after a moment’s silence, and puts down the glass and the SECRETARY’s list on the table].

JENNIFER He looked the picture of health and strength and prosperity. [She looks for a moment at the walls, contrasting BLENKlNSOP’s fortune with the artist’s fate].

RIDGEON [in low tones, still embarrassed] He has been fortunate.

JENNIFER Very fortunate. His life has been spared.

RIDGEON I mean that he has been made a Medical Officer of Health. He cured the Chairman of the Borough Council very successfully.

JENNIFER With your medicines?

RIDGEONNo. I believe it was with a pound of ripe greengages.

JENNIFER [with deep gravity] Funny!

RIDGEON Yes. Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.

JENNIFER Dr Blenkinsop said one very strange thing to me.

RIDGEONWhat was that?

JENNIFER He said that private practice in medicine ought to be put down by law. When I asked him why, he said that private doctors were ignorant licensed murderers.

RIDGEONThat is what the public doctor always thinks of the private doctor. Well, Blenkinsop ought to know. He was a private doctor long enough himself. Come! you have talked at me long enough. Talk to me. You have something to reproach me with. There is reproach in your face, in your voice: you are full of it. Out with it.

JENNIFER It is too late for reproaches now. When I turned and saw you just now, I wondered how you could come here coolly to look at his pictures. You answered the question. To you, he was only a clever brute.

RIDGEON [quivering] Oh, dont. You know I did not know you were here.

JENNIFER [raising her head a little with a quite gentle impulse of pride] You think it only mattered because I heard it. As if it could touch me, or touch him! Dont you see that what is really dreadful is that to you living things have no souls.

RIDGEON [with a sceptical shrug] The soul is an organ I have not come across in the course of my anatomical work.

JENNIFER You know you would not dare to say such a silly thing as that to anybody but a woman whose mind you despise. If you dissected me you could not find my conscience. Do you think I have got none?

RIDGEON I have met people who had none.

JENNIFER Clever brutes? Do you know, doctor, that some of the dearest and most faithful friends I ever had were only brutes! You would have vivisected them. The dearest and greatest of all my friends had a sort of beauty and affec tionateness that only animals have. I hope you may never feel what I felt when I had to put him into the hands of men who defend the torture of animals because they are only brutes.

RIDGEON Well, did you find us so very cruel, after all? They tell me that though you have dropped me, you stay for weeks with the Bloomfield Boningtons and the Walpoles. I think it must be true, because they never mention you to me now.

JENNIFER The animals in Sir Ralph’s house are like spoiled children. When Mr Walpole had to take a splinter out of the mastiff’s paw, I had to hold the poor dog myself; and Mr Walpole had to turn Sir Ralph out of the room. And Mrs Walpole has to tell the gardener not to kill wasps when Mr Walpole is looking. But there are doctors who are naturally cruel; and there are others who get used to cruelty and are callous about it. They blind themselves to the souls of animals; and that blinds them to the souls of men and women. You made a dreadful mistake about Louis; but you would not have made it if you had not trained yourself to make the same mistake about dogs. You saw nothing in them but dumb brutes; and so you could see nothing in him but a clever brute.

RIDGEON [with sudden resolution] I made no mistake whatever about him.

JENNIFER Oh, doctor!

RIDGEON [obstinately] I made no mistake whatever about him.

JENNIFER Have you forgotten that he died?

RIDGEON [with a sweep of his hand towards the pictures] He is not dead. He is there. [Taking up the book] And there.

JENNIFER [springing up with blazing eyes] Put that down. How dare you touch it?

RIDGEON, amazed at the fierceness of the outburst, puts it down with a deprecatory shrug. She takes it up and looks at it as if he had profaned a relic.

RIDGEON I am very sorry. I see I had better go.

JENNIFER [putting the book down] I beg your pardon. I – I forgot myself. But it is not yet – it is a private copy.

RIDGEON But for me it would have been a very different book.

JENNIFER But for you it would have been a longer one.

RIDGEON You know then that I killed him?

JENNIFER [suddenly moved and softened] Oh, doctor, if you acknowledge that – if you have confessed it to yourself – if you realize what you have done, then there is forgiveness. I trusted in your strength instinctively at first; then I thought I had mistaken callousness for strength. Can you blame me? But if it was really strength – if it was only such a mistake as we all make sometimes – it will make me so happy to be friends with you again.

RIDGEON I tell you I made no mistake. I cured Blenkinsop: was there any mistake there?

JENNIFER He recovered. Oh, dont be foolishly proud, doctor. Confess to a failure, and save our friendship. Remember, Sir Ralph gave Louis your medicine; and it made him worse.

RIDGEON I cant be your friend on false pretences. Something has got me by the throat: the truth must come out. I used that medicine myself on Blenkinsop. It did not make him worse. It is a dangerous medicine: it cured Blenkinsop: it killed Louis Dubedat. When I handle it, it cures. When another man handles it, it kills – sometimes.

JENNIFER [naively: not yet taking it all in] Then why did you let Sir Ralph give it to Louis?

RIDGEON I’m going to tell you. I did it because I was in love with you.

JENNIFER [innocently surprised] In lo – You! an elderly man!

RIDGEON [thunderstruck, raising his fists to heaven] Dubedat: thou art avenged! [He drops his hands and collapses on the bench]. I never thought of that. I suppose I appear to you a ridiculous old fogey.

JENNIFER But surely – I did not mean to offend you, indeed – but you must be at least twenty years older than I am.

RIDGEON Oh, quite. More, perhaps. In twenty years you will understand how little difference that makes.

JENNIFER But even so, how could you think that I – his wife – could ever think of y o u —

RIDGEON [stopping her with a nervous waving of his fingers] Yes, yes, yes, yes: I quite understand: you neednt rub it in.

JENNIFER But – oh, it is only dawning on me now – I was so surprised at first – do you dare to tell me that it was to gratify a miserable jealousy that you deliberately – oh! oh! you murdered him.

RIDGEON I think I did. It really comes to that.

Thou shalt not kill, but needst not strive Officiously to keep alive.[171]171
  Quotation from “The Latest Decalogue,” by English poet Arthur Hugh Clough (1819-1861).


[Закрыть]

I suppose – yes: I killed him.

JENNIFER And you tell me that! to my face! callously! You are not afraid!

RIDGEON I am a doctor: I have nothing to fear. It is not an in dictable offence to call in B. B. Perhaps it ought to be; but it isnt.

JENNIFER I did not mean that. I meant afraid of my taking the law into my own hands, and killing you.

RIDGEON I am so hopelessly idiotic about you that I should not mind it a bit. You would always remember me if you did that.

JENNIFER I shall remember you always as a little man who tried to kill a great one.

RIDGEON Pardon me. I succeeded.

JENNIFER [with quiet conviction] No. Doctors think they hold the keys of life and death; but it is not their will that is fulfilled. I dont believe you made any difference at all.

RIDGEON Perhaps not. But I intended to.

JENNIFER [looking at him amazedly: not without pity] And you tried to destroy that wonderful and beautiful life merely because you grudged him a woman whom you could never have expected to care for you!

RIDGEON Who kissed my hands. Who believed in me. Who told me her friendship lasted until death.

JENNIFER And whom you were betraying.

RIDGEON No. Whom I was saving.

JENNIFER [gently] Pray, doctor, from what?

RIDGE ON From making a terrible discovery. From having your life laid waste.

JENNIFER How?

RIDGEON No matter. I h a v e saved you. I have been the best friend you ever had. You are happy. You are well. His works are an imperishable joy and pride for you.

JENNIFER And you think that is y o u r doing. Oh doctor, doctor! Sir Patrick is right: you do think you are a little god. How can you be so silly? Y o u did not paint those pictures which are my imperishable joy and pride: y o u did not speak the words that will always be heavenly music in my ears. I listen to them now whenever I am tired or sad. That is why I am always happy.

RIDGEON Yes, now that he is dead. Were you always happy when he was alive?

JENNIFER [wounded] Oh, you are cruel, cruel. When he was alive I did not know the greatness of my blessing. I worried meanly about little things. I was unkind to him. I was unworthy of him.

RIDGEON [laughingbitterly]Ha!

JENNIFER Dont insult me: dont blaspheme. [She snatches up the book and presses it to her heart in a paroxysm of remorse, exclaiming] Oh, my King of Men!

RIDGEON King of Men! Oh, this is too monstrous, too grotesque. We cruel doctors have kept the secret from you faithfully; but it is like all secrets: it will not not keep itself. The buried truth germinates and breaks through to the light.

JENNIFER What truth?

RIDGEON What truth! Why, that Louis Dubedat, King of Men, was the most entire and perfect scoundrel, the most miraculously mean rascal, the most callously selfish blackguard that ever made a wife miserable.

JENNIFER [unshaken: calm and lovely] He made his wife the happiest woman in the world, doctor.

RIDGEON No: by all thats true on earth, he made his widow the happiest woman in the world; but it was I who made her a widow. And her happiness is my justification and my reward. Now you know what I did and what I thought of him. Be as angry with me as you like: at least you know me as I really am. If you ever come to care for an elderly man, you will know what you are caring for.

JENNIFER [kind and quiet] I am not angry with you any more, Sir Colenso. I knew quite well that you did not like Louis; but it is not your fault: you dont understand: that is all. You never could have believed in him. It is just like your not believing in my religion: it is a sort of sixth sense that you have not got. And [with a gentle reassuring movement towards him] dont think that you have shocked me so dreadfully. I know quite well what you mean by his selfishness. He sacrificed everything for his art. In a certain sense he had even to sacrifice everybody —

RIDGEON Everybody except himself. By keeping that back he lost the right to sacrifice you, and gave me the right to sacrifice him. Which I did.

JENNIFER [shaking her head, pitying his error] He was one of the men who know what women know: that self-sacrifice is vain and cowardly.

RIDGEON Yes, when the sacrifice is rejected and thrown away. Not when it becomes the food of godhead.

JENNIFER I dont understand that. And I cant argue with you: you are clever enough to puzzle me, but not to shake me. You are so utterly, so wildly wrong; so incapable of appreciating Louis —

RIDGEON Oh! [taking up the SECRETARY’s list] I have marked five pictures as sold to me.

JENNIFER They will not be sold to you. Louis’ creditors insisted on selling them; but this is my birthday; and they were all bought in for me this morning by my husband.

RIDGEON By whom?!!!

JENNIFER By my husband.

RIDGEON [gabbling and stuttering] What husband? Whose husband? Which husband? Whom? how? what? Do you mean to say that you have married again?

JENNIFER Do you forget that Louis disliked widows, and that people who have married happily once always marry again?

RIDGEON Then I have committed a purely disinterested murder!

The SECRETARY returns with a pile of catalogues.

THE SECRETARY Just got the first batch of catalogues in time. The doors are open.

JENNIFER [to RIDGEON, politely] So glad you like the pictures, Sir Colenso. Good morning.

RIDGEON Good morning. [He goes towards the door; hesitates; turns to say something more; gives it up as a bad job; and goes].