George Bernard Shaw - Pygmalion and Three Other Plays

BARBARA What man?

JENNY The man that hit me. Oh, I hope hes coming back to join us.

BILL WALKER, with frost on his jacket, comes through the gate, his hands deep in his pockets and his chin sunk between his shoulders, like a cleaned-out gambler. He halts between BARBARA and the drum.

BARBARA Hullo, Bill! Back already!

BILL [nagging at her] Bin talkin ever sence, av you?

BARBARA Pretty nearly. Well, has Todger paid you out for poor Jenny’s jaw?

BILL No he aint.

BARBARA I thought your jacket looked a bit snowy.

BILL So it is snowy. You want to know where the snow come from, dont you?

BARBARA Yes.

BILL Well, it come from off the ground in Parkinses Corner in Kennintahn. It got rubbed off be my shoulders: see?

BARBARA Pity you didnt rub some off with your knees, Bill! That would have done you a lot of good.

BILL [with sour mirthless humor] I was saving another man’s knees at the time. E was kneelin on my ed, so e was.

JENNY Who was kneeling on your head?

BILL Todger was. E was prayin for me: prayin comfortable with me as a carpet. So was Mog. So was the ole bloomin meetin. Mog she sez “O Lord break is stubborn spirit; but dont urt is dear art.”That was wot she said. “Dont urt is dear art”! An er bloke — thirteen stun four! — kneelin wiv all is weight on me. Funny, aint it?

JENNY Oh no. We’re so sorry, Mr. Walker.

BARBARA [enjoying it franhly] Nonsense! of course it’s funny. Served you right, Bill! You must have done something to him first.

BILL [doggedly] I did wot I said I’d do. I spit in is eye. E looks up at the sky and sez, “O that I should be fahnd worthy to be spit upon for the gospel’s sake!” e sez; an Mog sez “Glory Allel loolier!”; and then e called me Brother, an dahned me as if I was a kid and e was me mother washin me a Setterda nawt. I andt just no show wiv im at all. [61] That is, “I hadn’t just no show with him at all.” Arf the street prayed; an the tother arf larfed fit to split theirselves. [To BARBARA.] There! are you settisfawd nah?

BARBARA [her eyes dancing] Wish I’d been there, Bill.

BILL Yes: youd a got in a hextra bit o talk on me, wouldnt you?

JENNY I’m so sorry, Mr. Walker.

BILL [ fiercely ] Dont you go bein sorry for me: you’ve no call. Listen ere. I broke your jawr.

JENNY No, it didnt hurt me: indeed it didnt, except for a moment. It was only that I was frightened.

BILL I dont want to be forgive be you, or be ennybody. Wot I did I’ll pay for. I tried to get me own jawr broke to settisfaw you —

JENNY [distressed] Oh no —

BILL [impatiently] Tell y‘I did: cawnt you listen to wots bein told you? All I got be it was bein made a sight of in the public street for me pains. Well, if I cawnt settisfaw you one way, I can another. Listen ere! I ad two quid saved agen the frost; an I’ve a pahnd of it left. A mate o mine last week ad words with the judy e’s goin to marry. E give er wot-for; an e’s bin fined fifteen bob. E ad a right to it er because they was goin to be mar-rid ; but I adnt no right to it you; so put anather fawv bob on an call it a pahnd’s worth. [He produces a sovereign.] Eres the money. Take it; and lets av no more o your forgivin an prayin and your Major jawrin me. Let wot I done be done and paid for; and let there be a end of it.

JENNY Oh, I couldnt take it, Mr. Walker. But if you would give a shilling or two to poor Rummy Mitchens! you really did hurt her; and shes old.

BILL [contemptuously] Not likely. I’d give her anather as soon as look at er. Let her av the lawr o me as she threatened! She aint forgiven me: not mach. Wot I done to er is not on me mawnd — wot she [indicating BARBARA] might call on me conscience — no more than stickin a pig. It’s this Christian game o yours that I wont av played agen me: this bloomin forgivin an naggin an jawrin that makes a man that sore that iz lawf’s a burdn to im. I wont av it, I tell you; so take your money and stop throwin your silly bashed face hup agen me.

JENNY Major: may I take a little of it for the Army?

BARBARA No: the Army is not to be bought. We want your soul, Bill; and we’ll take nothing less.

BILL [bitterly] I know. It aint enough. Me an me few shillins is not good enough for you. Youre a earl’s grendorter, you are. Nothin less than a underd pahnd for you.

UNDERSHAFT Come, Barbara! you could do a great deal of good with a hundred pounds. If you will set this gentleman’s mind at ease by taking his pound, I will give the other ninety-nine. [Bill, astounded by such opulence, instinctively touches his cap.]

BARBARA Oh, youre too extravagant, papa. Bill offers twenty pieces of silver. All you need offer is the other ten. That will make the standard price to buy anybody who’s for sale. I’m not; and the Army’s not. {25} 25 25 (p. 106) “That will make the standard price to buy anybody who’s for sale. I’m not; and the Army’s not”: In a Wildean example of life imitating art, in 2002 a Florida chapter of the Salvation Army refused a large donation from an individual who had won the state lottery on the grounds that it would be hypocritical to accept the winnings because many of the Army’s clients had gambled away their families’ financial means of support. [To BILL. ] Youll never have another quiet moment, Bill, until you come round to us. You cant stand out against your salvation.

BILL [sullenly] I cawnt stend aht agen music-all wrastlers and artful tongued women. I’ve offered to pay. I can do no more. Take it or leave it. There it is. [He throws the sovereign on the drum, and sits down on the horse-trough. The coin fascinates SNOBBY PRICE, who takes an early opportunity of dropping his cap on it.] MRS. BAINES comes from the shelter. She is dressed as a Salvation Army Commissioner. She is an earnest looking woman of about 40, with a caressing, urgent voice, and an appealing manner.

BARBARA This is my father, Mrs. Baines. [UNDERSHAFT comes from the table, taking his hat off with marked civility. ] Try what you can do with him. He wont listen to me, because he remembers what a fool I was when I was a baby. [She leaves them together and chats with JENNY. ]

MRS. BAINES Have you been shewn over the shelter, Mr. Undershaft ?You know the work we’re doing, of course.

UNDERSHAFT [very civilly] The whole nation knows it, Mrs. Baines.

MRS. BAINES No, sir: the whole nation does not know it, or we should not be crippled as we are for want of money to carry our work through the length and breadth of the land. Let me tell you that there would have been rioting this winter in London but for us.

UNDERSHAFT You really think so?

MRS. BAINES I know it. I remember 1886, when you rich gentlemen hardened your hearts against the cry of the poor. They broke the windows of your clubs in Pall Mall.

UNDER SHAFT [gleaming with approval of their method] And the Mansion House Fund [62] The Lord Mayor of London’s collection of donations in times of national need. went up next day from thirty thousand pounds to seventy-nine thousand! I remember quite well.

MRS. BAINES Well, wont you help me to get at the people? They wont break windows then. Come here, Price. Let me shew you to this gentleman. [PRICE comes to be inspected.] Do you remember the window breaking?

PRICE My ole father thought it was the revolution, maam .

MRS. BAINES Would you break windows now?

PRICE Oh no maam. The windows of eaven av bin opened to me. I know now that the rich man is a sinner like myself.

RUMMY [appearing above at the loft door] Snobby Price!