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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SERGIUS.

Now listen you to me!

LOUKA.

( wincing ). Not so tight: you’re hurting me!

SERGIUS.

That doesn’t matter. You have stained my honor by making me a party to your eavesdropping. And you have betrayed your mistress—

LOUKA.

( writhing ). Please—

SERGIUS.

That shews that you are an abominable little clod of common clay, with the soul of a servant. ( He lets her go as if she were an unclean thing, and turns away, dusting his hands of her, to the bench by the wall, where he sits down with averted head, meditating gloomily. )

LOUKA.

( whimpering angrily with her hands up her sleeves, feeling her bruised arms ). You know how to hurt with your tongue as well as with your hands. But I don’t care, now I’ve found out that whatever clay I’m made of, you’re made of the same. As for her, she’s a liar; and her fine airs are a cheat; and I’m worth six of her. ( She shakes the pain off hardily; tosses her head; and sets to work to put the things on the tray. He looks doubtfully at her once or twice. She finishes packing the tray, and laps the cloth over the edges, so as to carry all out together. As she stoops to lift it, he rises. )

SERGIUS.

Louka! ( She stops and looks defiantly at him with the tray in her hands. ) A gentleman has no right to hurt a woman under any circumstances. ( With profound humility, uncovering his head. ) I beg your pardon.

LOUKA.

That sort of apology may satisfy a lady. Of what use is it to a servant?

SERGIUS.

( thus rudely crossed in his chivalry, throws it off with a bitter laugh and says slightingly ). Oh, you wish to be paid for the hurt? ( He puts on his shako, and takes some money from his pocket. )

LOUKA.

( her eyes filling with tears in spite of herself ). No, I want my hurt made well.

SERGIUS.

( sobered by her tone ). How?

( She rolls up her left sleeve; clasps her arm with the thumb and fingers of her right hand; and looks down at the bruise. Then she raises her head and looks straight at him. Finally, with a superb gesture she presents her arm to be kissed. Amazed, he looks at her; at the arm; at her again; hesitates; and then, with shuddering intensity, exclaims )

SERGIUS.

Never! ( and gets away as far as possible from her. )

( Her arm drops. Without a word, and with unaffected dignity, she takes her tray, and is approaching the house when Raina returns wearing a hat and jacket in the height of the Vienna fashion of the previous year, 1885. Louka makes way proudly for her, and then goes into the house. )

RAINA.

I’m ready! What’s the matter? ( Gaily. ) Have you been flirting with Louka?

SERGIUS.

( hastily ). No, no. How can you think such a thing?

RAINA.

( ashamed of herself ). Forgive me, dear: it was only a jest. I am so happy to-day.

( He goes quickly to her, and kisses her hand remorsefully. Catherine comes out and calls to them from the top of the steps. )

CATHERINE.

( coming down to them ). I am sorry to disturb you, children; but Paul is distracted over those three regiments. He does not know how to get them to Phillipopolis; and he objects to every suggestion of mine. You must go and help him, Sergius. He is in the library.

RAINA.

( disappointed ). But we are just going out for a walk.

SERGIUS.

I shall not be long. Wait for me just five minutes. ( He runs up the steps to the door. )

RAINA.

( following him to the foot of the steps and looking up at him with timid coquetry ). I shall go round and wait in full view of the library windows. Be sure you draw father’s attention to me. If you are a moment longer than five minutes, I shall go in and fetch you, regiments or no regiments.

SERGIUS.

( laughing ). Very well. ( He goes in. Raina watches him until he is out of her sight. Then, with a perceptible relaxation of manner, she begins to pace up and down about the garden in a brown study. )

CATHERINE.

Imagine their meeting that Swiss and hearing the whole story! The very first thing your father asked for was the old coat we sent him off in. A nice mess you have got us into!

RAINA.

( gazing thoughtfully at the gravel as she walks ). The little beast!

CATHERINE.

Little beast! What little beast?

RAINA.

To go and tell! Oh, if I had him here, I’d stuff him with chocolate creams till he couldn’t ever speak again!

CATHERINE.

Don’t talk nonsense. Tell me the truth, Raina. How long was he in your room before you came to me?

RAINA.

( whisking round and recommencing her march in the opposite direction ). Oh, I forget.

CATHERINE.

You cannot forget! Did he really climb up after the soldiers were gone, or was he there when that officer searched the room?

RAINA.

No. Yes, I think he must have been there then.

CATHERINE.

You think! Oh, Raina, Raina! Will anything ever make you straightforward? If Sergius finds out, it is all over between you.

RAINA.

( with cool impertinence ). Oh, I know Sergius is your pet. I sometimes wish you could marry him instead of me. You would just suit him. You would pet him, and spoil him, and mother him to perfection.

CATHERINE.

( opening her eyes very widely indeed ). Well, upon my word!

RAINA.

( capriciously—half to herself ). I always feel a longing to do or say something dreadful to him—to shock his propriety—to scandalize the five senses out of him! ( To Catherine perversely. ) I don’t care whether he finds out about the chocolate cream soldier or not. I half hope he may. ( She again turns flippantly away and strolls up the path to the corner of the house. )

CATHERINE.

And what should I be able to say to your father, pray?

RAINA.

( over her shoulder, from the top of the two steps ). Oh, poor father! As if he could help himself! ( She turns the corner and passes out of sight. )

CATHERINE.

( looking after her, her fingers itching ). Oh, if you were only ten years younger! ( Louka comes from the house with a salver, which she carries hanging down by her side. ) Well?

LOUKA.

There’s a gentleman just called, madam—a Servian officer—

CATHERINE.

( flaming ). A Servian! How dare he—( Checking herself bitterly. ) Oh, I forgot. We are at peace now. I suppose we shall have them calling every day to pay their compliments. Well, if he is an officer why don’t you tell your master? He is in the library with Major Saranoff. Why do you come to me?

LOUKA.

But he asks for you, madam. And I don’t think he knows who you are: he said the lady of the house. He gave me this little ticket for you. ( She takes a card out of her bosom; puts it on the salver and offers it to Catherine. )

CATHERINE.

( reading ). “Captain Bluntschli!” That’s a German name.

LOUKA.

Swiss, madam, I think.

CATHERINE.

( with a bound that makes Louka jump back ). Swiss! What is he like?

LOUKA.

( timidly ). He has a big carpet bag, madam.

CATHERINE.

Oh, Heavens, he’s come to return the coat! Send him away—say we’re not at home—ask him to leave his address and I’ll write to him—Oh, stop: that will never do. Wait! ( She throws herself into a chair to think it out. Louka waits. ) The master and Major Saranoff are busy in the library, aren’t they?

LOUKA.

Yes, madam.

CATHERINE.

( decisively ). Bring the gentleman out here at once. ( Imperatively. ) And be very polite to him. Don’t delay. Here ( impatiently snatching the salver from her ): leave that here; and go straight back to him.

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