GEORGE SHAW - Collected Works

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This Collected Works contains:
An Unsocial Socialist
Androcles and the Lion
Annajanska, the Bolshevik Empress
Arms and the Man
Augustus Does His Bit: A True-to-Life Farce
Back to Methuselah: A Metabiological Pentateuch
Caesar and Cleopatra
Candida
Candida: Ein Mysterium in drei Akten
Captain Brassbound's Conversion
Cashel Byron's Profession
Fanny's First Play
Getting Married
Great Catherine (Whom Glory Still Adores)
Heartbreak House
How He Lied to Her Husband
John Bull's Other Island
Major Barbara
Man and Superman: A Comedy and a Philosophy
Maxims for Revolutionists
Misalliance
Mrs. Warren's Profession
O'Flaherty V.C.: A Recruiting Pamphlet
On the Prospects of Christianity / Bernard Shaw's Preface to Androcles and the Lion
Overruled
Preface to Major Barbara: First Aid to Critics
Press Cuttings
Pygmalion
Revolutionist's Handbook and Pocket Companion
The Admirable Bashville; Or, Constancy Unrewarded / Being the Novel of Cashel Byron's Profession Done into a Stage Play in Three Acts and in Blank Verse, with a Note on Modern Prize Fighting
The Dark Lady of the Sonnets
The Devil's Disciple
The Doctor's Dilemma
The Doctor's Dilemma: Preface on Doctors
The Impossibilities of Anarchism
The Inca of Perusalem: An Almost Historical Comedietta
The Irrational Knot / Being the Second Novel of His Nonage
The Man of Destiny
The Miraculous Revenge
The Perfect Wagnerite: A Commentary on the Niblung's Ring
The Philanderer
The Shewing-up of Blanco Posnet
Treatise on Parents and Children
You Never Can Tell
George Bernard Shaw was an Irish playwright, critic, polemicist and political activist. His influence on Western theatre, culture and politics extended from the 1880s to his death and beyond. He wrote more than sixty plays, including major works such as Man and Superman (1902) and Pygmalion (1912). With a range incorporating both contemporary satire and historical allegory, Shaw became the leading dramatist of his generation, and in 1925 was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature.

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FTATATEETA ( contemptuously ). Who shall stay the sword in the hand of a fool, if the high gods put it there? Listen to me, ye young men without understanding. Cleopatra fears me; but she fears the Romans more. There is but one power greater in her eyes than the wrath of the Queen’s nurse and the cruelty of Caesar; and that is the power of the Sphinx that sits in the desert watching the way to the sea. What she would have it know, she tells into the ears of the sacred cats; and on her birthday she sacrifices to it and decks it with poppies. Go ye therefore into the desert and seek Cleopatra in the shadow of the Sphinx; and on your heads see to it that no harm comes to her.

BEL AFFRIS ( to the Persian ). May we believe this, O subtle one?

PERSIAN. Which way come the Romans?

BEL AFFRIS. Over the desert, from the sea, by this very Sphinx.

PERSIAN ( to Ftatateeta ). O mother of guile! O aspic’s tongue! You have made up this tale so that we two may go into the desert and perish on the spears of the Romans. ( Lifting his knife ) Taste death.

FTATATEETA. Not from thee, baby. ( She snatches his ankle from under him and flies stooping along the palace wall, vanishing in the darkness within its precinct. Bel Affris roars with laughter as the Persian tumbles. The guardsmen rush out of the palace with Belzanor and a mob of fugitives, mostly carrying bundles. )

PERSIAN. Have you found Cleopatra?

BELZANOR. She is gone. We have searched every corner.

THE NUBIAN SENTINEL ( appearing at the door of the palace ). Woe! Alas! Fly, fly!

BELZANOR. What is the matter now?

THE NUBIAN SENTINEL. The sacred white cat has been stolen.

ALL. Woe! Woe! ( General panic. They all fly with cries of consternation. The torch is thrown down and extinguished in the rush. Darkness. The noise of the fugitives dies away. Dead silence. Suspense. Then the blackness and stillness breaks softly into silver mist and strange airs as the windswept harp of Memnon plays at the dawning of the moon. It rises full over the desert; and a vast horizon comes into relief, broken by a huge shape which soon reveals itself in the spreading radiance as a Sphinx pedestalled on the sands. The light still clears, until the upraised eyes of the image are distinguished looking straight forward and upward in infinite fearless vigil, and a mass of color between its great paws defines itself as a heap of red poppies on which a girl lies motionless, her silken vest heaving gently and regularly with the breathing of a dreamless sleeper, and her braided hair glittering in a shaft of moonlight like a bird’s wing.

Suddenly there comes from afar a vaguely fearful sound (it might be the bellow of a Minotaur softened by great distance) and Memnon’s music stops. Silence: then a few faint high-ringing trumpet notes. Then silence again. Then a man comes from the south with stealing steps, ravished by the mystery of the night, all wonder, and halts, lost in contemplation, opposite the left flank of the Sphinx, whose bosom, with its burden, is hidden from him by its massive shoulder.)

THE MAN. Hail, Sphinx: salutation from Julius Caesar! I have wandered in many lands, seeking the lost regions from which my birth into this world exiled me, and the company of creatures such as I myself. I have found flocks and pastures, men and cities, but no other Caesar, no air native to me, no man kindred to me, none who can do my day’s deed, and think my night’s thought. In the little world yonder, Sphinx, my place is as high as yours in this great desert; only I wander, and you sit still; I conquer, and you endure; I work and wonder, you watch and wait; I look up and am dazzled, look down and am darkened, look round and am puzzled, whilst your eyes never turn from looking out—out of the world—to the lost region—the home from which we have strayed. Sphinx, you and I, strangers to the race of men, are no strangers to one another: have I not been conscious of you and of this place since I was born? Rome is a madman’s dream: this is my Reality. These starry lamps of yours I have seen from afar in Gaul, in Britain, in Spain, in Thessaly, signalling great secrets to some eternal sentinel below, whose post I never could find. And here at last is their sentinel—an image of the constant and immortal part of my life, silent, full of thoughts, alone in the silver desert. Sphinx, Sphinx: I have climbed mountains at night to hear in the distance the stealthy footfall of the winds that chase your sands in forbidden play—our invisible children, O Sphinx, laughing in whispers. My way hither was the way of destiny; for I am he of whose genius you are the symbol: part brute, part woman, and part God—nothing of man in me at all. Have I read your riddle, Sphinx?

THE GIRL ( who has wakened, and peeped cautiously from her nest to see who is speaking ). Old gentleman.

CAESAR ( starting violently, and clutching his sword ). Immortal gods!

THE GIRL. Old gentleman: don’t run away.

CAESAR ( stupefied ). “Old gentleman: don’t run away!!!” This! To Julius Caesar!

THE GIRL ( urgently ). Old gentleman.

CAESAR. Sphinx: you presume on your centuries. I am younger than you, though your voice is but a girl’s voice as yet.

THE GIRL. Climb up here, quickly; or the Romans will come and eat you.

CAESAR ( running forward past the Sphinx’s shoulder, and seeing her ). A child at its breast! A divine child!

THE GIRL. Come up quickly. You must get up at its side and creep round.

CAESAR ( amazed ). Who are you?

THE GIRL. Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt.

CAESAR. Queen of the Gypsies, you mean.

CLEOPATRA. You must not be disrespectful to me, or the Sphinx will let the Romans eat you. Come up. It is quite cosy here.

CAESAR ( to himself ). What a dream! What a magnificent dream! Only let me not wake, and I will conquer ten continents to pay for dreaming it out to the end. ( He climbs to the Sphinx’s flank, and presently reappears to her on the pedestal, stepping round its right shoulder. )

CLEOPATRA. Take care. That’s right. Now sit down: you may have its other paw. ( She seats herself comfortably on its left paw. ) It is very powerful and will protect us; but ( shivering, and with plaintive loneliness ) it would not take any notice of me or keep me company. I am glad you have come: I was very lonely. Did you happen to see a white cat anywhere?

CAESAR ( sitting slowly down on the right paw in extreme wonderment ). Have you lost one?

CLEOPATRA. Yes: the sacred white cat: is it not dreadful? I brought him here to sacrifice him to the Sphinx; but when we got a little way from the city a black cat called him, and he jumped out of my arms and ran away to it. Do you think that the black cat can have been my great-great-great-grandmother?

CAESAR ( staring at her ). Your great-great-great-grandmother! Well, why not? Nothing would surprise me on this night of nights.

CLEOPATRA. I think it must have been. My great-grandmother’s great-grandmother was a black kitten of the sacred white cat; and the river Nile made her his seventh wife. That is why my hair is so wavy. And I always want to be let do as I like, no matter whether it is the will of the gods or not: that is because my blood is made with Nile water.

CAESAR. What are you doing here at this time of night? Do you live here?

CLEOPATRA. Of course not: I am the Queen; and I shall live in the palace at Alexandria when I have killed my brother, who drove me out of it. When I am old enough I shall do just what I like. I shall be able to poison the slaves and see them wriggle, and pretend to Ftatateeta that she is going to be put into the fiery furnace.

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