Back to Methuselah · Part IV · Act II (2/2) (2/3)

| Zoo | Quickly, intoning. Isolate the Falstaff monument isolate hard. Paralyze⁠—The whistling stops. Thank you. She puts up her tuning-fork. He shall not move a muscle until I come to fetch him. | | The Envoy’s Wife | Oh! he will be frightfully angry! Did you hear what he said to me? | | Zoo | Much we care for his anger! | | The Daughter | Coming forward between her mother and Zoo. Please, madam, whose statue is it? and where can I buy a picture postcard of it? It is so funny. I will take a snapshot when we are coming back; but they come out so badly sometimes. | | Zoo | They will give you pictures and toys in the temple to take away with you. The story of the statue is too long. It would bore you. She goes past them across the courtyard to get rid of them. | | The Wife | Gushing. Oh no, I assure you. | | The Daughter | Copying her mother. We should be so interested. | | Zoo | Nonsense! All I can tell you about it is that a thousand years ago, when the whole world was given over to you short-lived people, there was a war called the War to end War. In the war which followed it about ten years later, hardly any soldiers were killed; but seven of the capital cities of Europe were wiped out of existence. It seems to have been a great joke: for the statesmen who thought they had sent ten million common men to their deaths were themselves blown into fragments with their houses and families, while the ten million men lay snugly in the caves they had dug for themselves. Later on even the houses escaped; but their inhabitants were poisoned by gas that spared no living soul. Of course the soldiers starved and ran wild; and that was the end of pseudo-Christian civilization. The last civilized thing that happened was that the statesmen discovered that cowardice was a great patriotic virtue; and a public monument was erected to its first preacher, an ancient and very fat sage called Sir John Falstaff. Well, pointing that’s Falstaff. | | The Elderly Gentleman | Coming from the portico to his granddaughter’s right. Great Heavens! And at the base of this monstrous poltroon’s statue the War God of Turania is now gibbering impotently. | | Zoo | Serve him right! War God indeed! | | The Envoy | Coming between his wife and Zoo. I don’t know any history: a modern Prime Minister has something better to do than sit reading books; but⁠— | | The Elderly Gentleman | Interrupting him encouragingly. You make history, Ambrose. | | The Envoy | Well, perhaps I do; and perhaps history makes me. I hardly recognize myself in the newspapers sometimes, though I suppose leading articles are the materials of history, as you might say. But what I want to know is, how did war come back again? and how did they make those poisonous gases you speak of? We should be glad to know; for they might come in very handy if we have to fight Turania. Of course I am all for peace, and don’t hold with the race of armaments in principle; still, we must keep ahead or be wiped out. | | Zoo | You can make the gases for yourselves when your chemists find out how. Then you will do as you did before: poison each other until there are no chemists left, and no civilization. You will then begin all over again as half-starved ignorant savages, and fight with boomerangs and poisoned arrows until you work up to the poison gases and high explosives once more, with the same result. That is, unless we have sense enough to make an end of this ridiculous game by destroying you. | | The Envoy | Aghast. Destroying us! | | The Elderly Gentleman | I told you, Ambrose. I warned you. | | The Envoy | But⁠— | | Zoo | Impatiently. I wonder what Zozim is doing. He ought to be here to receive you. | | The Elderly Gentleman | Do you mean that rather insufferable young man whom you found boring me on the pier? | | Zoo | Yes. He has to dress-up in a Druid’s robe, and put on a wig and a long false beard, to impress you silly people. I have to put on a purple mantle. I have no patience with such mummery; but you expect it from us; so I suppose it must be kept up. Will you wait here until Zozim comes, please. She turns to enter the temple. | | The Envoy | My good lady, is it worth while dressing-up and putting on false beards for us if you tell us beforehand that it is all humbug? | | Zoo | One would not think so; but if you won’t believe in anyone who is not dressed-up, why, we must dress-up for you. It was you who invented all this nonsense, not we. | | The Elderly Gentleman | But do you expect us to be impressed after this? | | Zoo | I don’t expect anything. I know, as a matter of experience, that you will be impressed. The oracle will frighten you out of your wits. She goes into the temple. | | The Wife | These people treat us as if we were dirt beneath their feet. I wonder at you putting up with it, Amby. It would serve them right if we went home at once: wouldn’t it, Eth? | | The Daughter | Yes, mamma. But perhaps they wouldn’t mind. | | The Envoy | No use talking like that, Molly. I’ve got to see this oracle. The folks at home won’t know how we have been treated: all they’ll know is that I’ve stood face to face with the oracle and had the straight tip from her. I hope this Zozim chap is not going to keep us waiting much longer; for I feel far from comfortable about the approaching interview; and that’s the honest truth. | | The Elderly Gentleman | I never thought I should want to see that man again; but now I wish he would take charge of us instead of Zoo. She was charming at first: quite charming; but she turned into a fiend because I had a few words with her. You would not believe: she very nearly killed me. You heard what she said just now. She belongs to a party here which wants to have us all killed. | | The Wife | Terrified. Us! But we have done nothing: we have been as nice to them as nice could be. Oh, Amby, come away, come away: there is something dreadful about this place and these people. | | The Envoy | There is, and no mistake. But you’re safe with me: you ought to have sense enough to know that. | | The Elderly Gentleman | I am sorry to say, Molly, that it is not merely us four poor weak creatures they want to kill, but the entire race of Man, except themselves. | | The Envoy | Not so poor neither, Poppa. Nor so weak, if you are going to take in all the Powers. If it comes to killing, two can play at that game, long-lived or short-lived. | | The Elderly Gentleman | No, Ambrose: we should have no chance. We are worms beside these fearful people: mere worms. | | | Zozim comes from the temple, robed majestically, and wearing a wreath of mistletoe in his flowing white wig. His false beard reaches almost to his waist. He carries a staff with a curiously carved top. | | Zozim | In the doorway, impressively. Hail, strangers! | | All | Reverently. Hail! | | Zozim | Are ye prepared? | | The Envoy | We are. | | Zozim | Unexpectedly becoming conversational, and strolling down carelessly to the middle of the group between the two ladies. Well, I’m sorry to say the oracle is not. She was delayed by some member of your party who got loose; and as the show takes a bit of arranging, you will have to wait a few minutes. The ladies can go inside and look round the entrance hall and get pictures and things if they want them. | | | Together. | | The Wife | Thank you. | | The Daughter | I should like to very much. | | | They go into the temple. | | The Elderly Gentleman | *In dignified rebuke of Zozim’s* levity. Taken in this spirit, sir, the show, as you call it, becomes almost an insult to our common sense. | | Zozim | Quite, I should say. You need not keep it up with me. | | The Envoy | Suddenly making himself very agreeable. Just so: just so. We can wait as long as you please. And now, if I may be allowed to seize the opportunity of a few minutes’ friendly chat⁠—? | | Zozim | By all means, if only you will talk about things I can understand. | | The Envoy | Well, about this colonizing plan of yours. My father-in-law here has been telling me something about it; and he has just now let out that you want not only to colonize us, but to⁠—to⁠—to⁠—well, shall we say to supersede us? Now why supersede us? Why not live and let live? Theres not a scrap of ill-feeling on our side. We should welcome a colony of immortals⁠—we may almost call you that⁠—in the British Middle East. No doubt the Turanian Empire, with its Muhammadan traditions, overshadows us now. We have had to bring the Emperor with us on this expedition, though of course you know as well as I do that he has imposed himself on my party just to spy on me. I don’t deny that he has the whip hand of us to some extent, because if it came to a war none of our generals could stand up against him. I give him best at that game: he is the finest soldier in the world. Besides, he is an emperor and an autocrat; and I am only an elected representative of the British democracy. Not that our British democrats won’t fight: they will fight the heads off all the Turanians that ever walked; but then it takes so long to work them up to it, while he has only to say the word and march. But you people would never get on with him. Believe me, you would not be as comfortable in Turania as you would be with us. We understand you. We like you. We are easygoing people; and we are rich people. That will appeal to you. Turania is a poor place when all is said. Five-eighths of it is desert. They don’t irrigate as we do. Besides⁠—now I am sure this will appeal to you and to all right-minded men⁠—we are Christians. | | Zozim | The old uns prefer Muhammadans. | | The Envoy | Shocked. What! | | Zozim | Distinctly. They prefer Muhammadans. What’s wrong with that? | | The Envoy | Well, of all the disgraceful⁠— | | The Elderly Gentleman | Diplomatically interrupting his scandalized son-in-law. There can be no doubt, I am afraid, that by clinging too long to the obsolete features of the old pseudo-Christian Churches we allowed the Muhammadans to get ahead of us at a very critical period of the development of the Eastern world. When the Muhammadan Reformation took place, it left its followers with the enormous advantage of having the only established religion in the world in whose articles of faith any intelligent and educated person could believe. | | The Envoy | But what about our Reformation? Don’t give the show away, Poppa. We followed suit, didn’t we? | | The Elderly Gentleman | Unfortunately, Ambrose, we could not follow suit very rapidly. We had not only a religion to deal with, but a Church. | | Zozim | What is a Church? | | The Envoy | Not know what a Church is! Well! | | The Elderly Gentleman | You must excuse me; but if I attempted to explain you would only ask me what a bishop is; and that is a question that no mortal man can answer. All I can tell you is that Muhammad was a truly wise man; for he founded a religion without a Church; consequently when the time came for a Reformation of the mosques there were no bishops and priests to obstruct it. Our bishops and priests prevented us for two hundred years from following suit; and we have never recovered the start we lost then. I can only plead that we did reform our Church at last. No doubt we had to make a few compromises as a matter of good taste; but there is now very little in our Articles of Religion that is not accepted as at least allegorically true by our Higher Criticism. | | The Envoy | Encouragingly. Besides, does it matter? Why, I have never read the Articles in my life; and I am Prime Minister! Come! if my services in arranging for the reception of a colonizing party would be acceptable, they are at your disposal. And when I say a reception I mean a reception. Royal honors, mind you! A salute of a hundred and one guns! The streets lined with troops! The Guards turned out at the Palace! Dinner at the Guildhall! | | Zozim | Discourage me if I know what you’re talking about! I wish Zoo would come: she understands these things. All I can tell you is that the general opinion among the Colonizers is in favor of beginning in a country where the people are of a different color from us; so that we can make short work without any risk of mistakes. | | The Envoy | What do you mean by short work? I hope⁠— | | Zozim | With obviously feigned geniality. Oh, nothing, nothing, nothing. We are thinking of trying North America: that’s all. You see, the Red Men of that country used to be white. They passed through a period of sallow complexions, followed by a period of no complexions at all, into the red characteristic of their climate. Besides, several cases of long life have occurred in North America. They joined us here; and their stock soon reverted to the original white of these islands. | | The Elderly Gentleman | But have you considered the possibility of your colony turning red? | | Zozim | That won’t matter. We are not particular about our pigmentation. The old books mention red-faced Englishmen: they appear to have been common objects at one time. | | The Elderly Gentleman | Very persuasively. But do you think you would be popular in North America? It seems to me, if I may say so, that on your own showing you need a country in which society is organized in a series of highly exclusive circles, in which the privacy of private life is very jealously guarded, and in which no one presumes to speak to anyone else without an introduction following a strict examination of social credentials. It is only in such a country that persons of special tastes and attainments can form a little world of their own, and protect themselves absolutely from intrusion by common persons. I think I may claim that our British society has developed this exclusiveness to perfection. If you would pay us a visit and see the working of our caste system, our club system, our guild system, you would admit that nowhere else in the world, least of all, perhaps in North America, which has a regrettable tradition of social promiscuity, could you keep yourselves so entirely to yourselves. | | Zozim | Good-naturedly embarrassed. Look here. There is no good discussing this. I had rather not explain; but it won’t make any difference to our Colonizers what sort of short-livers they come across. We shall arrange all that. Never mind how. Let us join the ladies. | | The Elderly Gentleman | Throwing off his diplomatic attitude and abandoning himself to despair. We understand you only too well, sir. Well, kill us. End the lives you have made miserably unhappy by opening up to us the possibility that any of us may live three hundred years. I solemnly curse that possibility. To you it may be a blessing, because you do live three hundred years. To us, who live less than a hundred, whose flesh is as grass, it is the most unbearable burden our poor tortured humanity has ever groaned under. | | The Envoy | Hullo, Poppa! Steady! How do you make that out? | | Zozim | What is three hundred years? Short enough, if you ask me. Why, in the old days you people lived on the assumption that you were going to last out forever and ever and ever. Immortal, you thought yourselves. Were you any happier then? |