LORD SUMMERHAYS. Giving the show away is a method like any othermethod. Keeping it to yourself is only another method. I should keepan open mind about it.JOHNNY. Has it ever occurred to you that a man with an open mind mustbe a bit of a scoundrel? If you ask me, I like a man who makes up hismind once for all as to whats right and whats wrong and then sticks toit. At all events you know where to have him.LORD SUMMERHAYS. That may not be his object.BENTLEY. He may want to have you, old chap.JOHNNY. Well, let him. If a member of my club wants to steal myumbrella, he knows where to find it. If a man put up for the club whohad an open mind on the subject of property in umbrellas, I shouldblackball him. An open mind is all very well in clever talky-talky;but in conduct and in business give me solid ground.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Yes: the quicksands make life difficult. Still,there they are. It's no use pretending theyre rocks.JOHNNY. I dont know. You can draw a line and make other chaps toeit. Thats what I call morality.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Very true. But you dont make any progress whenyoure toeing a line.HYPATIA.[suddenly, as if she could bear no more of it]Bentley:do go and play tennis with Johnny. You must take exercise.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Do, my boy, do.[To Johnny]Take him out andmake him skip about.BENTLEY.[rising reluctantly]I promised you two inches more roundmy chest this summer. I tried exercises with an indiarubber expander;but I wasnt strong enough: instead of my expanding it, it crumpled meup. Come along, Johnny.JOHNNY. Do you no end of good, young chap.[He goes out withBentley through the pavilion].Hypatia throws aside her work with an enormous sigh of relief.LORD SUMMERHAYS. At last!HYPATIA. At last. Oh, if I might only have a holiday in an asylumfor the dumb. How I envy the animals! They cant talk. If Johnnycould only put back his ears or wag his tail instead of laying downthe law, how much better it would be! We should know when he wascross and when he was pleased; and thats all we know now, with all histalk. It never stops: talk, talk, talk, talk. Thats my life. Allthe day I listen to mamma talking; at dinner I listen to papa talking;and when papa stops for breath I listen to Johnny talking.LORD SUMMERHAYS. You make me feel very guilty. I talk too, I'mafraid.HYPATIA. Oh, I dont mind that, because your talk is a novelty. Butit must have been dreadful for your daughters.LORD SUMMERHAYS. I suppose so.HYPATIA. If parents would only realize how they bore their children!Three or four times in the last half hour Ive been on the point ofscreaming.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Were we very dull?HYPATIA. Not at all: you were very clever. Thats whats so hard tobear, because it makes it so difficult to avoid listening. You see,I'm young; and I do so want something to happen. My mother tells methat when I'm her age, I shall be only too glad that nothing'shappened; but I'm not her age; so what good is that to me? Theres myfather in the garden, meditating on his destiny. All very well forhim: hes had a destiny to meditate on; but I havnt had any destinyyet. Everything's happened to him: nothing's happened to me. Thatswhy this unending talk is so maddeningly uninteresting to me.LORD SUMMERHAYS. It would be worse if we sat in silence.HYPATIA. No it wouldnt. If you all sat in silence, as if you werewaiting for something to happen, then there would be hope even ifnothing did happen. But this eternal cackle, cackle, cackle aboutthings in general is only fit for old, old, OLD people. I suppose itmeans something to them: theyve had their fling. All I listen for issome sign of it ending in something; but just when it seems to becoming to a point, Johnny or papa just starts another hare; and it allbegins over again; and I realize that it's never going to leadanywhere and never going to stop. Thats when I want to scream. Iwonder how you can stand it.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Well, I'm old and garrulous myself, you see.Besides, I'm not here of my own free will, exactly. I came becauseyou ordered me to come.HYPATIA. Didnt you want to come?LORD SUMMERHAYS. My dear: after thirty years of managing otherpeople's business, men lose the habit of considering what they want ordont want.HYPATIA. Oh, dont begin to talk about what men do, and about thirtyyears experience. If you cant get off that subject, youd better sendfor Johnny and papa and begin it all over again.LORD SUMMERHAYS. I'm sorry. I beg your pardon.HYPATIA. I asked you, didnt you want to come?LORD SUMMERHAYS. I did not stop to consider whether I wanted or not,because when I read your letter I knew I had to come.HYPATIA. Why?LORD SUMMERHAYS. Oh come, Miss Tarleton! Really, really! Dont forceme to call you a blackmailer to your face. You have me in your power;and I do what you tell me very obediently. Dont ask me to pretend Ido it of my own free will.HYPATIA. I dont know what a blackmailer is. I havnt even that muchexperience.LORD SUMMERHAYS. A blackmailer, my dear young lady, is a person whoknows a disgraceful secret in the life of another person, and extortsmoney from that other person by threatening to make his secret publicunless the money is paid.HYPATIA. I havnt asked you for money.LORD SUMMERHAYS. No; but you asked me to come down here and talk toyou; and you mentioned casually that if I didnt youd have nobody totalk about me to but Bentley. That was a threat, was it not?HYPATIA. Well, I wanted you to come.LORD SUMMERHAYS. In spite of my age and my unfortunate talkativeness?HYPATIA. I like talking to you. I can let myself go with you. I cansay things to you I cant say to other people.LORD SUMMERHAYS. I wonder why?HYPATIA. Well, you are the only really clever, grown-up, high-class,experienced man I know who has given himself away to me by making anutter fool of himself with me. You cant wrap yourself up in your togaafter that. You cant give yourself airs with me.LORD SUMMERHAYS. You mean you can tell Bentley about me if I do.HYPATIA. Even if there wasnt any Bentley: even if you didnt care(and I really dont see why you should care so much) still, we nevercould be on conventional terms with one another again. Besides, Ivegot a feeling for you: almost a ghastly sort of love for you.LORD SUMMERHAYS.[shrinking]I beg you—no, please.HYPATIA. Oh, it's nothing at all flattering: and, of course, nothingwrong, as I suppose youd call it.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Please believe that I know that. When men of myage—HYPATIA.[impatiently]Oh, do talk about yourself when you meanyourself, and not about men of your age.LORD SUMMERHAYS. I'll put it as bluntly as I can. When, as you say,I made an utter fool of myself, believe me, I made a poetic fool ofmyself. I was seduced, not by appetites which, thank Heaven, Ive longoutlived: not even by the desire of second childhood for a childcompanion, but by the innocent impulse to place the delicacy andwisdom and spirituality of my age at the affectionate service of youryouth for a few years, at the end of which you would be a grown,strong, formed—widow. Alas, my dear, the delicacy of age reckoned,as usual, without the derision and cruelty of youth. You told me thatyou didnt want to be an old man's nurse, and that you didnt want tohave undersized children like Bentley. It served me right: I dontreproach you: I was an old fool. But how you can imagine, afterthat, that I can suspect you of the smallest feeling for me except theinevitable feeling of early youth for late age, or imagine that I haveany feeling for you except one of shrinking humiliation, I cantunderstand.HYPATIA. I dont blame you for falling in love with me. I shall begrateful to you all my life for it, because that was the first timethat anything really interesting happened to me.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Do you mean to tell me that nothing of that kind hadever happened before? that no man had ever—HYPATIA. Oh, lots. Thats part of the routine of life here: the verydullest part of it. The young man who comes a-courting is as familiaran incident in my life as coffee for breakfast. Of course, hes toomuch of a gentleman to misbehave himself; and I'm too much of a ladyto let him; and hes shy and sheepish; and I'm correct andself-possessed; and at last, when I can bear it no longer, I eitherfrighten him off, or give him a chance of proposing, just to see howhe'll do it, and refuse him because he does it in the same silly wayas all the rest. You dont call that an event in one's life, do you?With you it was different. I should as soon have expected the NorthPole to fall in love with me as you. You know I'm only alinen-draper's daughter when all's said. I was afraid of you: you, agreat man! a lord! and older than my father. And then what asituation it was! Just think of it! I was engaged to your son; andyou knew nothing about it. He was afraid to tell you: he brought youdown here because he thought if he could throw us together I could getround you because I was such a ripping girl. We arranged it all: heand I. We got Papa and Mamma and Johnny out of the way splendidly;and then Bentley took himself off, and left us—you and me!—to take awalk through the heather and admire the scenery of Hindhead. Younever dreamt that it was all a plan: that what made me so nice wasthe way I was playing up to my destiny as the sweet girl that was tomake your boy happy. And then! and then![She rises to dance andclap her hands in her glee].LORD SUMMERHAYS.[shuddering]Stop, stop. Can no woman understanda man's delicacy?HYPATIA.[revelling in the recollection]And then—ha, ha!—youproposed. You! A father! For your son's girl!LORD SUMMERHAYS. Stop, I tell you. Dont profane what you dontunderstand.HYPATIA. That was something happening at last with a vengeance. Itwas splendid. It was my first peep behind the scenes. If I'd beenseventeen I should have fallen in love with you. Even as it is, Ifeel quite differently towards you from what I do towards other oldmen. So[offering her hand]you may kiss my hand if that will beany fun for you.LORD SUMMERHAYS.[rising and recoiling to the table, deeplyrevolted]No, no, no. How dare you?[She laughs mischievously].How callous youth is! How coarse! How cynical! How ruthlesslycruel!HYPATIA. Stuff! It's only that youre tired of a great many thingsIve never tried.LORD SUMMERHAYS. It's not alone that. Ive not forgotten thebrutality of my own boyhood. But do try to learn, glorious youngbeast that you are, that age is squeamish, sentimental, fastidious.If you cant understand my holier feelings, at least you know thebodily infirmities of the old. You know that I darent eat all therich things you gobble up at every meal; that I cant bear the noiseand racket and clatter that affect you no more than they affect astone. Well, my soul is like that too. Spare it: be gentle with it[he involuntarily puts out his hands to plead: she takes them with alaugh].If you could possibly think of me as half an angel and halfan invalid, we should get on much better together.HYPATIA. We get on very well, I think. Nobody else ever called me aglorious young beast. I like that. Glorious young beast expressesexactly what I like to be.LORD SUMMERHAYS.[extricating his hands and sitting down]Where onearth did you get these morbid tastes? You seem to have been wellbrought up in a normal, healthy, respectable, middle-class family.Yet you go on like the most unwholesome product of the rankestBohemianism.HYPATIA. Thats just it. I'm fed up with—LORD SUMMERHAYS. Horrible expression. Dont.HYPATIA. Oh, I daresay it's vulgar; but theres no other word for it.I'm fed up with nice things: with respectability, with propriety!When a woman has nothing to do, money and respectability mean thatnothing is ever allowed to happen to her. I dont want to be good; andI dont want to be bad: I just dont want to be bothered about eithergood or bad: I want to be an active verb.LORD SUMMERHAYS. An active verb? Oh, I see. An active verbsignifies to be, to do, or to suffer.HYPATIA. Just so: how clever of you! I want to be; I want to do;and I'm game to suffer if it costs that. But stick here doing nothingbut being good and nice and ladylike I simply wont. Stay down herewith us for a week; and I'll shew you what it means: shew it to yougoing on day after day, year after year, lifetime after lifetime.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Shew me what?HYPATIA. Girls withering into ladies. Ladies withering into oldmaids. Nursing old women. Running errands for old men. Good fornothing else at last. Oh, you cant imagine the fiendish selfishnessof the old people and the maudlin sacrifice of the young.It's more unbearable than any poverty: more horrible than anyregular-right-down wickedness. Oh, home! home! parents! family! duty!how I loathe them! How I'd like to see them all blown to bits! Thepoor escape. The wicked escape. Well, I cant be poor: we're rollingin money: it's no use pretending we're not. But I can be wicked; andI'm quite prepared to be.LORD SUMMERHAYS. You think that easy?HYPATIA. Well, isnt it? Being a man, you ought to know.LORD SUMMERHAYS. It requires some natural talent, which can no doubtbe cultivated. It's not really easy to be anything out of the common.HYPATIA. Anyhow, I mean to make a fight for living.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Living your own life, I believe the Suffragistphrase is.HYPATIA. Living any life. Living, instead of withering without evena gardener to snip you off when youre rotten.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Ive lived an active life; but Ive withered all thesame.HYPATIA. No: youve worn out: thats quite different. And youve somelife in you yet or you wouldnt have fallen in love with me. You cannever imagine how delighted I was to find that instead of being thecorrect sort of big panjandrum you were supposed to be, you werereally an old rip like papa.LORD SUMMERHAYS. No, no: not about your father: I really cant bearit. And if you must say these terrible things: these heart-woundingshameful things, at least find something prettier to call me than anold rip.HYPATIA. Well, what would you call a man proposing to a girl whomight be—LORD SUMMERHAYS. His daughter: yes, I know.HYPATIA. I was going to say his granddaughter.LORD SUMMERHAYS. You always have one more blow to get in.HYPATIA. Youre too sensitive. Did you ever make mud pies when youwere a kid—beg pardon: a child.LORD SUMMERHAYS. I hope not.HYPATIA. It's a dirty job; but Johnny and I were vulgar enough tolike it. I like young people because theyre not too afraid of dirt tolive. Ive grown out of the mud pies; but I like slang; and I likebustling you up by saying things that shock you; and I'd rather put upwith swearing and smoking than with dull respectability; and there arelots of things that would just shrivel you up that I think ratherjolly. Now!LORD SUMMERHAYS. Ive not the slightest doubt of it. Dont insist.HYPATIA. It's not your ideal, is it?LORD SUMMERHAYS. No.HYPATIA. Shall I tell you why? Your ideal is an old woman. Idaresay shes got a young face; but shes an old woman. Old, old, old.Squeamish. Cant stand up to things. Cant enjoy things: not realthings. Always on the shrink.LORD SUMMERHAYS. On the shrink! Detestable expression.HYPATIA. Bah! you cant stand even a little thing like that. Whatgood are you? Oh, what good are you?LORD SUMMERHAYS. Dont ask me. I dont know. I dont know.Tarleton returns from the vestibule. Hypatia sits down demurely.HYPATIA. Well, papa: have you meditated on your destiny?TARLETON.[puzzled]What? Oh! my destiny. Gad, I forgot allabout it: Jock started a rabbit and put it clean out of my head.Besides, why should I give way to morbid introspection? It's a signof madness. Read Lombroso.[To Lord Summerhays]Well, Summerhays,has my little girl been entertaining you?LORD SUMMERHAYS. Yes. She is a wonderful entertainer.TARLETON. I think my idea of bringing up a young girl has been rathera success. Dont you listen to this, Patsy: it might make youconceited. Shes never been treated like a child. I always said thesame thing to her mother. Let her read what she likes. Let her dowhat she likes. Let her go where she likes. Eh, Patsy?HYPATIA. Oh yes, if there had only been anything for me to do, anyplace for me to go, anything I wanted to read.TARLETON. There, you see! Shes not satisfied. Restless. Wantsthings to happen. Wants adventures to drop out of the sky.HYPATIA.[gathering up her work]If youre going to talk about meand my education, I'm off.TARLETON. Well, well, off with you.[To Lord Summerhays]Shesactive, like me. She actually wanted me to put her into the shop.HYPATIA. Well, they tell me that the girls there have adventuressometimes.[She goes out through the inner door]TARLETON. She had me there, though she doesnt know it, poor innocentlamb! Public scandal exaggerates enormously, of course; but moralizeas you will, superabundant vitality is a physical fact that cant betalked away.[He sits down between the writing table and thesideboard].Difficult question this, of bringing up children.Between ourselves, it has beaten me. I never was so surprised in mylife as when I came to know Johnny as a man of business and found outwhat he was really like. How did you manage with your sons?LORD SUMMERHAYS. Well, I really hadnt time to be a father: thats theplain truth of the matter. Their poor dear mother did the usual thingwhile they were with us. Then of course, Harrow, Cambridge, the usualroutine of their class. I saw very little of them, and thought verylittle about them: how could I? with a whole province on my hands.They and I are—acquaintances. Not perhaps, quite ordinaryacquaintances: theres a sort of—er—I should almost call it a sortof remorse about the way we shake hands (when we do shake hands) whichmeans, I suppose, that we're sorry we dont care more for one another;and I'm afraid we dont meet oftener than we can help. We put eachother too much out of countenance. It's really a very difficultrelation. To my mind not altogether a natural one.TARLETON.[impressed, as usual]Thats an idea, certainly. I dontthink anybody has ever written about that.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Bentley is the only one who was really my son in anyserious sense. He was completely spoilt. When he was sent to apreparatory school he simply yelled until he was sent home. Harrowwas out of the question; but we managed to tutor him into Cambridge.No use: he was sent down. By that time my work was over; and I saw agood deal of him. But I could do nothing with him—except look on. Ishould have thought your case was quite different. You keep up themiddle-class tradition: the day school and the business traininginstead of the university. I believe in the day school part of it.At all events, you know your own children.TARLETON. Do you? I'm not so sure of it. Fact is, my dearSummerhays, once childhood is over, once the little animal has gotpast the stage at which it acquires what you might call a sense ofdecency, it's all up with the relation between parent and child. Youcant get over the fearful shyness of it.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Shyness?TARLETON. Yes, shyness. Read Dickens.LORD SUMMERHAYS[surprised]Dickens!! Of all authors, CharlesDickens! Are you serious?TARLETON. I dont mean his books. Read his letters to his family.Read any man's letters to his children. Theyre not human. Theyre notabout himself or themselves. Theyre about hotels, scenery, about theweather, about getting wet and losing the train and what he saw on theroad and all that. Not a word about himself. Forced. Shy. Dutyletters. All fit to be published: that says everything. I tell youtheres a wall ten feet thick and ten miles high between parent andchild. I know what I'm talking about. Ive girls in my employment:girls and young men. I had ideas on the subject. I used to go to theparents and tell them not to let their children go out into the worldwithout instruction in the dangers and temptations they were going tobe thrown into. What did every one of the mothers say to me? "Oh,sir, how could I speak of such things to my own daughter?" The mensaid I was quite right; but they didnt do it, any more than I'd beenable to do it myself to Johnny. I had to leave books in his way; andI felt just awful when I did it. Believe me, Summerhays, the relationbetween the young and the old should be an innocent relation. Itshould be something they could talk about. Well, the relation betweenparent and child may be an affectionate relation. It may be a usefulrelation. It may be a necessary relation. But it can never be aninnocent relation. Youd die rather than allude to it. Depend on it,in a thousand years itll be considered bad form to know who yourfather and mother are. Embarrassing. Better hand Bentley over to me.I can look him in the face and talk to him as man to man. You canhave Johnny.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Thank you. Ive lived so long in a country where aman may have fifty sons, who are no more to him than a regiment ofsoldiers, that I'm afraid Ive lost the English feeling about it.TARLETON.[restless again]You mean Jinghiskahn. Ah yes. Goodthing the empire. Educates us. Opens our minds. Knocks the Bibleout of us. And civilizes the other chaps.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Yes: it civilizes them. And it uncivilizes us.Their gain. Our loss, Tarleton, believe me, our loss.TARLETON. Well, why not? Averages out the human race. Makes thenigger half an Englishman. Makes the Englishman half a nigger.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Speaking as the unfortunate Englishman in question,I dont like the process. If I had my life to live over again, I'dstay at home and supercivilize myself.TARLETON. Nonsense! dont be selfish. Think how youve improved theother chaps. Look at the Spanish empire! Bad job for Spain, butsplendid for South America. Look at what the Romans did for Britain!They burst up and had to clear out; but think of all they taught us!They were the making of us: I believe there was a Roman camp onHindhead: I'll shew it to you tomorrow. Thats the good side ofImperialism: it's unselfish. I despise the Little Englanders:theyre always thinking about England. Smallminded. I'm for theParliament of man, the federation of the world. Read Tennyson.[Hesettles down again].Then theres the great food question.LORD SUMMERHAYS.[apprehensively]Need we go into that thisafternoon?TARLETON. No; but I wish youd tell the Chickabiddy that theJinghiskahns eat no end of toasted cheese, and that it's the secret oftheir amazing health and long life!LORD SUMMERHAYS. Unfortunately they are neither healthy nor longlived. And they dont eat toasted cheese.TARLETON. There you are! They would be if they ate it. Anyhow,say what you like, provided the moral is a Welsh rabbit for my supper.LORD SUMMERHAYS. British morality in a nutshell!TARLETON.[hugely amused]Yes. Ha ha! Awful hypocrites, aint we?They are interrupted by excited cries from the grounds.HYPATIA. | Papa! Mamma! Come out as fast as you can.| Quick. Quick.|BENTLEY. | Hello, governor! Come out. An aeroplane.| Look, look.TARLETON.[starting up]Aeroplane! Did he say an aeroplane?LORD SUMMERHAYS. Aeroplane![A shadow falls on the pavilion; andsome of the glass at the top is shattered and falls on the floor].Tarleton and Lord Summerhays rush out through the pavilion into thegarden.HYPATIA. | Take care. Take care of the chimney.|BENTLEY. | Come this side: it's coming right| where youre standing.|TARLETON. | Hallo! where the devil are you| coming? youll have my roof off.|LORD SUMMERHAYS| He's lost control.MRS TARLETON. Look, look, Hypatia. There are two people in it.BENTLEY. Theyve cleared it. Well steered!TARLETON. | Yes; but theyre coming slam into the greenhouse.|LORD SUMMERHAYS| Look out for the glass.|MRS TARLETON. | Theyll break all the glass. Theyll| spoil all the grapes.|BENTLEY. | Mind where youre coming. He'll| save it. No: theyre down.An appalling crash of breaking glass is heard. Everybody shrieks.MRS TARLETON. | Oh, are they killed? John: are they killed?|LORD SUMMERHAYS| Are you hurt? Is anything broken? Can you stand?|HYPATIA. | Oh, you must be hurt. Are you sure? Shall I get| you some water? Or some wine?|TARLETON. | Are you all right? Sure you wont have some| brandy just to take off the shock.THE AVIATOR. No, thank you. Quite right. Not a scratch. I assureyou I'm all right.BENTLEY. What luck! And what a smash! You are a lucky chap, I cantell you.The Aviator and Tarleton come in through the pavilion, followed byLord Summerhays and Bentley, the Aviator on Tarleton's right. Bentleypasses the Aviator and turns to have an admiring look at him. LordSummerhays overtakes Tarleton less pointedly on the opposite side withthe same object.THE AVIATOR. I'm really very sorry. I'm afraid Ive knocked yourvinery into a cocked hat. (Effusively) You dont mind, do you?TARLETON. Not a bit. Come in and have some tea. Stay to dinner.Stay over the week-end. All my life Ive wanted to fly.THE AVIATOR.[taking off his goggles]Youre really more than kind.BENTLEY. Why, its Joey Percival.PERCIVAL. Hallo, Ben! That you?TARLETON. What! The man with three fathers!PERCIVAL. Oh! has Ben been talking about me?TARLETON. Consider yourself as one of the family—if you will do methe honor. And your friend too. Wheres your friend?PERCIVAL. Oh, by the way! before he comes in: let me explain. Idont know him.TARLETON. Eh?PERCIVAL. Havnt even looked at him. I'm trying to make a club recordwith a passenger. The club supplied the passenger. He just got in;and Ive been too busy handling the aeroplane to look at him. I havntsaid a word to him; and I cant answer for him socially; but hes anideal passenger for a flyer. He saved me from a smash.LORD SUMMERHAYS. I saw it. It was extraordinary. When you werethrown out he held on to the top bar with one hand. You came past himin the air, going straight for the glass. He caught you and turnedyou off into the flower bed, and then lighted beside you like a bird.PERCIVAL. How he kept his head I cant imagine. Frankly,Ididnt.The Passenger, also begoggled, comes in through the pavilion withJohnny and the two ladies. The Passenger comes between Percival andTarleton, Mrs Tarleton between Lord Summerhays and her husband,Hypatia between Percival and Bentley, and Johnny to Bentley's right.TARLETON. Just discussing your prowess, my dear sir. Magnificent.Youll stay to dinner. Youll stay the night. Stay over the week. TheChickabiddy will be delighted.MRS TARLETON. Wont you take off your goggles and have some tea?The Passenger begins to remove the goggles.TARLETON. Do. Have a wash. Johnny: take the gentleman to yourroom: I'll look after Mr Percival. They must—By this time the passenger has got the goggles off, and standsrevealed as a remarkably good-looking woman.MRS TARLETON. | Well I never!!! || |BENTLEY. | [in a whisper] Oh, I say! || |JOHNNY. | By George! || |AllLORD SUMMERHAYS| A lady! | to-| | gether.HYPATIA. | A woman! || |TARLETON. | [to Percival] You never told me— || |PERCIVAL. | I hadnt the least idea— |An embarrassed pause.PERCIVAL. I assure you if I'd had the faintest notion that mypassenger was a lady I shouldnt have left you to shift for yourself inthat selfish way.LORD SUMMERHAYS. The lady seems to have shifted for both veryeffectually, sir.PERCIVAL. Saved my life. I admit it most gratefully.TARLETON. I must apologize, madam, for having offered you thecivilities appropriate to the opposite sex. And yet, why opposite?We are all human: males and females of the same species. When thedress is the same the distinction vanishes. I'm proud to receive inmy house a lady of evident refinement and distinction. Allow me tointroduce myself: Tarleton: John Tarleton (seeing conjecture in thepassenger's eye)—yes, yes: Tarleton's Underwear. My wife, MrsTarleton: youll excuse me for having in what I had taken to be aconfidence between man and man alluded to her as the Chickabiddy. Mydaughter Hypatia, who has always wanted some adventure to drop out ofthe sky, and is now, I hope, satisfied at last. Lord Summerhays: aman known wherever the British flag waves. His son Bentley, engagedto Hypatia. Mr Joseph Percival, the promising son of three highlyintellectual fathers.HYPATIA.[startled]Bentley's friend?[Bentley nods].TARLETON.[continuing, to the passenger]May I now ask to beallowed the pleasure of knowing your name?THE PASSENGER. My name is Lina Szczepanowska[pronouncing itSh-Chepanovska].PERCIVAL. Sh— I beg your pardon?LINA. Szczepanowska.PERCIVAL.[dubiously]Thank you.TARLETON.[very politely]Would you mind saying it again?LINA. Say fish.TARLETON. Fish.LINA. Say church.TARLETON. Church.LINA. Say fish church.TARLETON.[remonstrating]But it's not good sense.LINA.[inexorable]Say fish church.TARLETON. Fish church.LINA. Again.TARLETON. No, but—[resigning himself]fish church.LINA. Now say Szczepanowska.TARLETON. Szczepanowska. Got it, by Gad.[A sibilant whisperingbecomes audible: they are all saying Sh-ch to themselves].Szczepanowska! Not an English name, is it?LINA. Polish. I'm a Pole.TARLETON. Ah yes. Interesting nation. Lucky people to get thegovernment of their country taken off their hands. Nothing to do butcultivate themselves. Same as we took Gibraltar off the hands of theSpaniards. Saves the Spanish taxpayer. Jolly good thing for us ifthe Germans took Portsmouth. Sit down, wont you?The group breaks up. Johnny and Bentley hurry to the pavilion andfetch the two wicker chairs. Johnny gives his to Lina. Hypatia andPercival take the chairs at the worktable. Lord Summerhays gives thechair at the vestibule end of the writing table to Mrs Tarleton; andBentley replaces it with a wicker chair, which Lord Summerhays takes.Johnny remains standing behind the worktable, Bentley behind hisfather.MRS TARLETON.[to Lina]Have some tea now, wont you?LINA. I never drink tea.TARLETON.[sitting down at the end of the writing table nearestLina]Bad thing to aeroplane on, I should imagine. Too jumpy. Beenup much?LINA. Not in an aeroplane. Ive parachuted; but thats child's play.MRS TARLETON. But arnt you very foolish to run such a dreadful risk?LINA. You cant live without running risks.MRS TARLETON. Oh, what a thing to say! Didnt you know you might havebeen killed?LINA. That was why I went up.HYPATIA. Of course. Cant you understand the fascination of thething? the novelty! the daring! the sense of something happening!LINA. Oh no. It's too tame a business for that. I went up forfamily reasons.TARLETON. Eh? What? Family reasons?MRS TARLETON. I hope it wasnt to spite your mother?PERCIVAL.[quickly]Or your husband?LINA. I'm not married. And why should I want to spite my mother?HYPATIA.[aside to Percival]That was clever of you, Mr Percival.PERCIVAL. What?HYPATIA. To find out.TARLETON. I'm in a difficulty. I cant understand a lady going up inan aeroplane for family reasons. It's rude to be curious and askquestions; but then it's inhuman to be indifferent, as if you didntcare.LINA. I'll tell you with pleasure. For the last hundred and fiftyyears, not a single day has passed without some member of my familyrisking his life—or her life. It's a point of honor with us to keepup that tradition. Usually several of us do it; but it happens thatjust at this moment it is being kept up by one of my brothers only.Early this morning I got a telegram from him to say that there hadbeen a fire, and that he could do nothing for the rest of the week.Fortunately I had an invitation from the Aerial League to see thisgentleman try to break the passenger record. I appealed to thePresident of the League to let me save the honor of my family. Hearranged it for me.TARLETON. Oh, I must be dreaming. This is stark raving nonsense.LINA.[quietly]You are quite awake, sir.JOHNNY. We cant all be dreaming the same thing, Governor.TARLETON. Of course not, you duffer; but then I'm dreaming you aswell as the lady.MRS TARLETON. Dont be silly, John. The lady is only joking, I'msure.[To Lina]I suppose your luggage is in the aeroplane.PERCIVAL. Luggage was out of the question. If I stay to dinner I'mafraid I cant change unless youll lend me some clothes.MRS TARLETON. Do you mean neither of you?PERCIVAL. I'm afraid so.MRS TARLETON. Oh well, never mind: Hypatia will lend the lady agown.LINA. Thank you: I'm quite comfortable as I am. I am not accustomedto gowns: they hamper me and make me feel ridiculous; so if you dontmind I shall not change.MRS TARLETON. Well, I'm beginning to think I'm doing a bit ofdreaming myself.HYPATIA.[impatiently]Oh, it's all right, mamma. Johnny: lookafter Mr. Percival.[To Lina, rising]Come with me.Lina follows her to the inner door. They all rise.JOHNNY.[to Percival]I'll shew you.PERCIVAL. Thank you.Lina goes out with Hypatia, and Percival with Johnny.MRS TARLETON. Well, this is a nice thing to happen! And look at thegreenhouse! Itll cost thirty pounds to mend it. People have no rightto do such things. And you invited them to dinner too! What sort ofwoman is that to have in our house when you know that all Hindheadwill be calling on us to see that aeroplane? Bunny: come with me andhelp me to get all the people out of the grounds: I declare they camerunning as if theyd sprung up out of the earth[she makes for theinner door].TARLETON. No: dont you trouble, Chickabiddy: I'll tackle em.MRS TARLETON. Indeed youll do nothing of the kind: youll stay herequietly with Lord Summerhays. Youd invite them all to dinner. Come,Bunny.[She goes out, followed by Bentley. Lord Summerhays sitsdown again].TARLETON. Singularly beautiful woman Summerhays. What do you make ofher? She must be a princess. Whats this family of warriors andstatesmen that risk their lives every day?LORD SUMMERHAYS. They are evidently not warriors and statesmen, orthey wouldnt do that.TARLETON. Well, then, who the devil are they?LORD SUMMERHAYS. I think I know. The last time I saw that lady, shedid something I should not have thought possible.TARLETON. What was that?LORD SUMMERHAYS. Well, she walked backwards along a taut wire withouta balancing pole and turned a somersault in the middle. I rememberthat her name was Lina, and that the other name was foreign; though Idont recollect it.TARLETON. Szcz! You couldnt have forgotten that if youd heard it.LORD SUMMERHAYS. I didnt hear it: I only saw it on a program. Butit's clear shes an acrobat. It explains how she saved Percival. Andit accounts for her family pride.TARLETON. An acrobat, eh? Good, good, good! Summerhays: thatbrings her within reach. Thats better than a princess. I steeledthis evergreen heart of mine when I thought she was a princess. Now Ishall let it be touched. She is accessible. Good.LORD SUMMERHAYS. I hope you are not serious. Remember: you have afamily. You have a position. You are not in your first youth.TARLETON. No matter.Theres magic in the nightWhen the heart is young.My heart is young. Besides, I'm a married man, not a widower likeyou. A married man can do anything he likes if his wife dont mind. Awidower cant be too careful. Not that I would have you think me anunprincipled man or a bad husband. I'm not. But Ive a superabundanceof vitality. Read Pepys' Diary.LORD SUMMERHAYS. The woman is your guest, Tarleton.TARLETON. Well, is she? A woman I bring into my house is my guest.A woman you bring into my house is my guest. But a woman who dropsbang down out of the sky into my greenhouse and smashes every blessedpane of glass in it must take her chance.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Still, you know that my name must not be associatedwith any scandal. Youll be careful, wont you?TARLETON. Oh Lord, yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. I was only joking,of course.Mrs Tarleton comes back through the inner door.MRS TARLETON. Well I never! John: I dont think that young woman'sright in her head. Do you know what shes just asked for?TARLETON. Champagne?MRS TARLETON. No. She wants a Bible and six oranges.TARLETON. What?MRS TARLETON. A Bible and six oranges.TARLETON. I understand the oranges: shes doing an orange cure ofsome sort. But what on earth does she want the Bible for?MRS TARLETON. I'm sure I cant imagine. She cant be right in herhead.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Perhaps she wants to read it.MRS TARLETON. But why should she, on a weekday, at all events. Whatwould you advise me to do, Lord Summerhays?LORD SUMMERHAYS. Well, is there a Bible in the house?TARLETON. Stacks of em. Theres the family Bible, and the Dore Bible,and the parallel revised version Bible, and the Doves Press Bible, andJohnny's Bible and Bobby's Bible and Patsy's Bible, and theChickabiddy's Bible and my Bible; and I daresay the servants couldraise a few more between them. Let her have the lot.MRS TARLETON. Dont talk like that before Lord Summerhays, John.LORD SUMMERHAYS. It doesnt matter, Mrs Tarleton: in Jinghiskahn itwas a punishable offence to expose a Bible for sale. The empire hasno religion.Lina comes in. She has left her cap in Hypatia's room. She stops onthe landing just inside the door, and speaks over the handrail.LINA. Oh, Mrs Tarleton, shall I be making myself very troublesome ifI ask for a music-stand in my room as well?TARLETON. Not at all. You can have the piano if you like. Or thegramophone. Have the gramophone.LINA. No, thank you: no music.MRS TARLETON.[going to the steps]Do you think it's good for youto eat so many oranges? Arnt you afraid of getting jaundice?LINA.[coming down]Not in the least. But billiard balls will doquite as well.MRS TARLETON. But you cant eat billiard balls, child!TARLETON. Get em, Chickabiddy. I understand.[He imitates ajuggler tossing up balls].Eh?LINA.[going to him, past his wife]Just so.TARLETON. Billiard balls and cues. Plates, knives, and forks. Twoparaffin lamps and a hatstand.LINA. No: that is popular low-class business. In our family wetouch nothing but classical work. Anybody can do lamps and hatstands.Ican do silver bullets. That is really hard.[She passes on toLord Summerhays, and looks gravely down at him as he sits by thewriting table].MRS TARLETON. Well, I'm sure I dont know what youre talking about;and I only hope you know yourselves. However, you shall have what youwant, of course.[She goes up the steps and leaves the room].LORD SUMMERHAYS. Will you forgive my curiosity? What is the Biblefor?LINA. To quiet my soul.LORD SUMMERHAYS[with a sigh]Ah yes, yes. It no longer quietsmine, I am sorry to say.LINA. That is because you do not know how to read it. Put it upbefore you on a stand; and open it at the Psalms. When you can readthem and understand them, quite quietly and happily, and keep sixballs in the air all the time, you are in perfect condition; and youllnever make a mistake that evening. If you find you cant do that, thengo and pray until you can. And be very careful that evening.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Is that the usual form of test in your profession?LINA. Nothing that we Szczepanowskis do is usual, my lord.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Are you all so wonderful?LINA. It is our profession to be wonderful.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Do you never condescend to do as common people do?For instance, do you not pray as common people pray?LINA. Common people do not pray, my lord: they only beg.LORD SUMMERHAYS. You never ask for anything?LINA. No.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Then why do you pray?LINA. To remind myself that I have a soul.TARLETON.[walking about]True. Fine. Good. Beautiful. Allthis damned materialism: what good is it to anybody? Ive got a soul:dont tell me I havnt. Cut me up and you cant find it. Cut up a steamengine and you cant find the steam. But, by George, it makes theengine go. Say what you will, Summerhays, the divine spark is a fact.LORD SUMMERHAYS. Have I denied it?TARLETON. Our whole civilization is a denial of it. Read WaltWhitman.LORD SUMMERHAYS. I shall go to the billiard room and get the ballsfor you.LINA. Thank you.Lord Summerhays goes out through the vestibule door.TARLETON.[going to her]Listen to me.[She turns quickly].What you said just now was beautiful. You touch chords. You appealto the poetry in a man. You inspire him. Come now! Youre a woman ofthe world: youre independent: you must have driven lots of mencrazy. You know the sort of man I am, dont you? See through me at aglance, eh?LINA. Yes.[She sits down quietly in the chair Lord Summerhays hasjust left].TARLETON. Good. Well, do you like me? Dont misunderstand me: I'mperfectly aware that youre not going to fall in love at first sightwith a ridiculous old shopkeeper. I cant help that ridiculous oldshopkeeper. I have to carry him about with me whether I like it ornot. I have to pay for his clothes, though I hate the cut of them:especially the waistcoat. I have to look at him in the glass whileI'm shaving. I loathe him because hes a living lie. My soul's notlike that: it's like yours. I want to make a fool of myself. Aboutyou. Will you let me?LINA.[very calm]How much will you pay?TARLETON. Nothing. But I'll throw as many sovereigns as you likeinto the sea to shew you that I'm in earnest.LINA. Are those your usual terms?TARLETON. No. I never made that bid before.LINA.[producing a dainty little book and preparing to write in it]What did you say your name was?TARLETON. John Tarleton. The great John Tarleton of Tarleton'sUnderwear.LINA.[writing]T-a-r-l-e-t-o-n. Er—?[She looks up at himinquiringly].TARLETON.[promptly]Fifty-eight.LINA. Thank you. I keep a list of all my offers. I like to knowwhat I'm considered worth.TARLETON. Let me look.LINA.[offering the book to him]It's in Polish.TARLETON. Thats no good. Is mine the lowest offer?LINA. No: the highest.TARLETON. What do most of them come to? Diamonds? Motor cars?Furs? Villa at Monte Carlo?LINA. Oh yes: all that. And sometimes the devotion of a lifetime.TARLETON. Fancy that! A young man offering a woman his old age as atemptation!LINA. By the way, you did not say how long.TARLETON. Until you get tired of me.LINA. Or until you get tired of me?TARLETON. I never get tired. I never go on long enough for that.But when it becomes so grand, so inspiring that I feel that everythingmust be an anti-climax after that, then I run away.LINA. Does she let you go without a struggle?TARLETON. Yes. Glad to get rid of me. When love takes a man as ittakes me—when it makes him great—it frightens a woman.LINA. The lady here is your wife, isnt she? Dont you care for her?TARLETON. Yes. And mind! she comes first always. I reserve herdignity even when I sacrifice my own. Youll respect that point ofhonor, wont you?LINA. Only a point of honor?TARLETON.[impulsively]No, by God! a point of affection as well.LINA.[smiling, pleased with him]Shake hands, old pal[she risesand offers him her hand frankly].TARLETON.[giving his hand rather dolefully]Thanks. That meansno, doesnt it?LINA. It means something that will last longer than yes. I like you.I admit you to my friendship. What a pity you were not trained whenyou were young! Youd be young still.TARLETON. I suppose, to an athlete like you, I'm pretty awful, eh?LINA. Shocking.TARLETON. Too much crumb. Wrinkles. Yellow patches that wont comeoff. Short wind. I know. I'm ashamed of myself. I could do nothingon the high rope.LINA. Oh yes: I could put you in a wheelbarrow and run you along,two hundred feet up.TARLETON.[shuddering]Ugh! Well, I'd do even that for you. ReadThe Master Builder.LINA. Have you learnt everything from books?TARLETON. Well, have you learnt everything from the flying trapeze?LINA. On the flying trapeze there is often another woman; and herlife is in your hands every night and your life in hers.TARLETON. Lina: I'm going to make a fool of myself. I'm going tocry[he crumples into the nearest chair].LINA. Pray instead: dont cry. Why should you cry? Youre not thefirst I've said no to.TARLETON. If you had said yes, should I have been the first then?LINA. What right have you to ask? Have I asked amIthe first?TARLETON. Youre right: a vulgar question. To a man like me,everybody is the first. Life renews itself.LINA. The youngest child is the sweetest.TARLETON. Dont probe too deep, Lina. It hurts.LINA. You must get out of the habit of thinking that these thingsmatter so much. It's linendraperish.TARLETON. Youre quite right. Ive often said so. All the same, itdoes matter; for I want to cry.[He buries his face in his arms onthe work-table and sobs].LINA.[going to him]O la la![She slaps him vigorously, but notunkindly, on the shoulder].Courage, old pal, courage! Have you agymnasium here?TARLETON. Theres a trapeze and bars and things in the billiard room.LINA. Come. You need a few exercises. I'll teach you how to stopcrying.[She takes his arm and leads him off into the vestibule].A young man, cheaply dressed and strange in manner, appears in thegarden; steals to the pavilion door; and looks in. Seeing that thereis nobody, he enters cautiously until he has come far enough to seeinto the hatstand corner. He draws a revolver, and examines it,apparently to make sure that it is loaded. Then his attention iscaught by the Turkish bath. He looks down the lunette, and opens thepanels.HYPATIA.[calling in the garden]Mr Percival! Mr Percival! Whereare you?