Getting Married (2/2) (2/12)

| Lesbia | I’m a regular old maid. I’m very particular about my belongings. I like to have my own house, and to have it to myself. I have a very keen sense of beauty and fitness and cleanliness and order. I am proud of my independence and jealous for it. I have a sufficiently well-stocked mind to be very good company for myself if I have plenty of books and music. The one thing I never could stand is a great lout of a man smoking all over my house and going to sleep in his chair after dinner, and untidying everything. Ugh! | | The General | But love⁠— | | Lesbia | Oh, love! Have you no imagination? Do you think I have never been in love with wonderful men? heroes! archangels! princes! sages! even fascinating rascals! and had the strangest adventures with them? Do you know what it is to look at a mere real man after that? a man with his boots in every corner, and the smell of his tobacco in every curtain? | | The General | Somewhat dazed. Well but⁠—excuse my mentioning it⁠—don’t you want children? | | Lesbia | I ought to have children. I should be a good mother to children. I believe it would pay the country very well to pay me very well to have children. But the country tells me that I can’t have a child in my house without a man in it too; so I tell the country that it will have to do without my children. If I am to be a mother, I really cannot have a man bothering me to be a wife at the same time. | | The General | My dear Lesbia: you know I don’t wish to be impertinent; but these are not the correct views for an English lady to express. | | Lesbia | That is why I don’t express them, except to gentlemen who won’t take any other answer. The difficulty, you see, is that I really am an English lady, and am particularly proud of being one. | | The General | I’m sure of that, Lesbia: quite sure of it. I never meant⁠— | | Lesbia | Rising impatiently. Oh, my dear Boxer, do please try to think of something else than whether you have offended me, and whether you are doing the correct thing as an English gentleman. You are faultless, and very dull. She shakes her shoulders intolerantly and walks across to the other side of the kitchen. | | The General | Moodily. Ha! that’s what’s the matter with me. Not clever. A poor silly soldier man. | | Lesbia | The whole matter is very simple. As I say, I am an English lady, by which I mean that I have been trained to do without what I can’t have on honorable terms, no matter what it is. | | The General | I really don’t understand you, Lesbia. | | Lesbia | Turning on him. Then why on earth do you want to marry a woman you don’t understand? | | The General | I don’t know. I suppose I love you. | | Lesbia | Well, Boxer, you can love me as much as you like, provided you look happy about it and don’t bore me. But you can’t marry me; and that’s all about it. | | The General | It’s so frightfully difficult to argue the matter fairly with you without wounding your delicacy by overstepping the bounds of good taste. But surely there are calls of nature⁠— | | Lesbia | Don’t be ridiculous, Boxer. | | The General | Well, how am I to express it? Hang it all, Lesbia, don’t you want a husband? | | Lesbia | No. I want children; and I want to devote myself entirely to my children, and not to their father. The law will not allow me to do that; so I have made up my mind to have neither husband nor children. | | The General | But, great Heavens, the natural appetites⁠— | | Lesbia | As I said before, an English lady is not the slave of her appetites. That is what an English gentleman seems incapable of understanding. She sits down at the end of the table, near the study door. | | The General | Huffily. Oh well, if you refuse, you refuse. I shall not ask you again. I’m sorry I returned to the subject. He retires to the hearth and plants himself there, wounded and lofty. | | Lesbia | Don’t be cross, Boxer. | | The General | I’m not cross, only wounded, Lesbia. And when you talk like that, I don’t feel convinced: I only feel utterly at a loss. | | Lesbia | Well, you know our family rule. When at a loss consult the greengrocer. Opportunely Collins comes in through the tower. Here he is. | | Collins | Sorry to be so much in and out, Miss. I thought Mrs. Bridgenorth was here. The table is ready now for the breakfast, if she would like to see it. | | Lesbia | If you are satisfied, Collins, I am sure she will be. | | The General | By the way, Collins: I thought they’d made you an alderman. | | Collins | So they have, General. | | The General | Then where’s your gown? | | Collins | I don’t wear it in private life, General. | | The General | Why? Are you ashamed of it? | | Collins | No, General. To tell you the truth, I take a pride in it. I can’t help it. | | The General | Attention, Collins. Come here. Collins comes to him. Do you see my uniform⁠—all my medals? | | Collins | Yes, General. They strike the eye, as it were. | | The General | They are meant to. Very well. Now you know, don’t you, that your services to the community as a greengrocer are as important and as dignified as mine as a soldier? | | Collins | I’m sure it’s very honorable of you to say so, General. | | The General | Emphatically. You know also, don’t you, that any man who can see anything ridiculous, or unmanly, or unbecoming in your work or in your civic robes is not a gentleman, but a jumping, bounding, snorting cad? | | Collins | Well, strictly between ourselves, that is my opinion, General. | | The General | Then why not dignify my niece’s wedding by wearing your robes? | | Collins | A bargain’s a bargain, General. Mrs. Bridgenorth sent for the greengrocer, not for the alderman. It’s just as unpleasant to get more than you bargain for as to get less. | | The General | I’m sure she will agree with me. I attach importance to this as an affirmation of solidarity in the service of the community. The Bishop’s apron, my uniform, your robes: the Church, the Army, and the Municipality. | | Collins | Retiring. Very well, General. *He turns dubiously to Lesbia on his way to the tower. I wonder what my wife will say, Miss? | | The General | What! Is your, wife ashamed of your robes? | | Collins | No, sir, not ashamed of them. But she grudged the money for them; and she will be afraid of my sleeves getting into the gravy. | | | Mrs. Bridgenorth, her placidity quite upset, comes in with a letter; hurries past Collins; and comes between Lesbia and the General. | | Mrs. Bridgenorth | Lesbia: Boxer: here’s a pretty mess! | | | Collins goes out discreetly. | | The General | What’s the matter? | | Mrs. Bridgenorth | Reginald’s in London, and wants to come to the wedding. | | The General | Stupended. Well, dash my buttons! | | Lesbia | Oh, all right, let him come. | | The General | Let him come! Why, the decree has not been made absolute yet. Is he to walk in here to Edith’s wedding, reeking from the Divorce Court? | | Mrs. Bridgenorth | Vexedly sitting down in the middle chair. It’s too bad. No: I can’t forgive him, Lesbia, really. A man of Reginald’s age, with a young wife⁠—the best of girls, and as pretty as she can be⁠—to go off with a common woman from the streets! Ugh! | | Lesbia | You must make allowances. What can you expect? Reginald was always weak. He was brought up to be weak. The family property was all mortgaged when he inherited it. He had to struggle along in constant money difficulties, hustled by his solicitors, morally bullied by the Barmecide, and physically bullied by Boxer, while they two were fighting their own way and getting well trained. You know very well he couldn’t afford to marry until the mortgages were cleared and he was over fifty. And then of course he made a fool of himself marrying a child like Leo. | | The General | But to hit her! Absolutely to hit her! He knocked her down⁠—knocked her flat down on a flowerbed in the presence of his gardener. He! the head of the family! the man that stands before the Barmecide and myself as Bridgenorth of Bridgenorth! to beat his wife and go off with a low woman and be divorced for it in the face of all England! in the face of my uniform and Alfred’s apron! I can never forget what I felt: it was only the King’s personal request⁠—virtually a command⁠—that stopped me from resigning my commission. I’d cut Reginald dead if I met him in the street. | | Mrs. Bridgenorth | Besides, Leo’s coming. They’d meet. It’s impossible, Lesbia. | | Lesbia | Oh, I forgot that. That settles it. He mustn’t come. | | The General | Of course he mustn’t. You tell him that if he enters this house, I’ll leave it; and so will every decent man and woman in it. | | Collins | Returning for a moment to announce. Mr. Reginald, ma’am. He withdraws when Reginald enters. | | The General | Beside himself. Well, dash my buttons!! | | | Reginald is just the man Lesbia has described. He is hardened and tough physically, and hasty and boyish in his manner and speech, belonging as he does to the large class of English gentlemen of property (solicitor-managed) who have never developed intellectually since their schooldays. He is a muddled, rebellious, hasty, untidy, forgetful, always late sort of man, who very evidently needs the care of a capable woman, and has never been lucky or attractive enough to get it. All the same, a likeable man, from whom nobody apprehends any malice nor expects any achievement. In everything but years he is younger than his brother the General. | | Reginald | Coming forward between the General and Mrs. Bridgenorth. Alice: it’s no use. I can’t stay away from Edith’s wedding. Good morning, Lesbia. How are you, Boxer? He offers the General his hand. | | The General | With crushing stiffness. I was just telling Alice, sir, that if you entered this house, I should leave it. | | Reginald | Well, don’t let me detain you, old chap. When you start calling people Sir, you’re not particularly good company. | | Lesbia | Don’t you begin to quarrel. That won’t improve the situation. | | Mrs. Bridgenorth | I think you might have waited until you got my answer, Rejjy. | | Reginald | It’s so jolly easy to say No in a letter. Won’t you let me stay? | | Mrs. Bridgenorth | How can I? Leo’s coming. | | Reginald | Well, she won’t mind. | | The General | Won’t mind!!!! | | Lesbia | Don’t talk nonsense, Rejjy; and be off with you. | | The General | With biting sarcasm. At school you lead a theory that women liked being knocked down, I remember. | | Reginald | You’re a nice, chivalrous, brotherly sort of swine, you are. | | The General | Mr. Bridgenorth: are you going to leave this house or am I? | | Reginald | You are, I hope. He emphasizes his intention to stay by sitting down. | | The General | Alice: will you allow me to be driven from Edith’s wedding by this⁠— | | Lesbia | Warningly. Boxer! | | The General | —by this Respondent? Is Edith to be given away by him? | | Mrs. Bridgenorth | Certainly not. Reginald: you were not asked to come; and I have asked you to go. You know how fond I am of Leo; and you know what she would feel if she came in and found you here. | | Collins | Again appearing in the tower. Mrs. Reginald, ma’am. | | | All three clamoring together. | | Lesbia | No, no. Ask her to⁠— | | Mrs. Bridgenorth | Oh, how unfortunate! | | The General | Well, dash my buttons! | | | It is too late: Leo is already in the kitchen. Collins goes out, mutely abandoning a situation which he deplores but has been unable to save. | | | Leo is very pretty, very youthful, very restless, and consequently very charming to people who are touched by youth and beauty, as well as to those who regard young women as more or less appetizing lollipops, and don’t regard old women at all. Coldly studied, Leo’s restlessness is much less lovable than the kittenishness which comes from a rich and fresh vitality. She is a born fusser about herself and everybody else for whom she feels responsible; and her vanity causes her to exaggerate her responsibilities officiously. All her fussing is about little things; but she often calls them by big names, such as Art, the Divine Spark, the world, motherhood, good breeding, the Universe, the Creator, or anything else that happens to strike her imagination as sounding intellectually important. She has more than common imagination and no more than common conception and penetration; so that she is always on the high horse about words and always in the perambulator about things. Considering herself clever, thoughtful, and superior to ordinary weaknesses and prejudices, she recklessly attaches herself to clever men on that understanding, with the result that they are first delighted, then exasperated, and finally bored. When marrying Reginald she told her friends that there was a great deal in him which needed bringing out. If she were a middle-aged man she would be the terror of his club. Being a pretty young woman, she is forgiven everything, proving that “Tout comprendre, c’est tout pardonner” is an error, the fact being that the secret of forgiving everything is to understand nothing. | | | She runs in fussily, full of her own importance, and swoops on Lesbia, who is much less disposed to spoil her than Mrs. Bridgenorth is. But Leo affects a special intimacy with Lesbia, as of two thinkers among the Philistines. | | Leo | To Lesbia, kissing her. Good morning. Coming to Mrs. Bridgenorth. How do, Alice? Passing on towards the hearth. Why so gloomy, General? Reginald rises between her and the General. Oh, Rejjy! What will the King’s Proctor say? | | Reginald | Damn the King’s Proctor! | | Leo | Naughty. Well, I suppose I must kiss you; but don’t any of you tell. She kisses him. They can hardly believe their eyes. Have you kept all your promises? | | Reginald | Oh, don’t begin bothering about those⁠— | | Leo | Insisting. Have? You? Kept? Your? Promises? Have you rubbed your head with the lotion every night? | | Reginald | Yes, yes. Nearly every night. | | Leo | Nearly! I know what that means. Have you worn your liver pad? | | The General | Solemnly. Leo: forgiveness is one of the most beautiful traits in a woman’s nature; but there are things that should not be forgiven to a man. When a man knocks a woman down⁠—Leo gives a little shriek of laughter and collapses on a chair next Mrs. Bridgenorth*, on her left. | | Reginald | Sardonically. The man that would raise his hand to a woman, save in the way of a kindness, is unworthy the name of Bridgenorth. He sits down at the end of the table nearest the hearth. | | The General | Much huffed. Oh, well, if Leo does not mind, of course I have no more to say. But I think you might, out of consideration for the family, beat your wife in private and not in the presence of the gardener. | | Reginald | Out of patience. What’s the good of beating your wife unless there’s a witness to prove it afterwards? You don’t suppose a man beats his wife for the fun of it, do you? How could she have got her divorce if I hadn’t beaten her? Nice state of things, that! | | The General | Gasping. Do you mean to tell me that you did it in cold blood? simply to get rid of your wife? | | Reginald | No, I didn’t: I did it to get her rid of me. What would you do if you were fool enough to marry a woman thirty years younger than yourself, and then found that she didn’t care for you, and was in love with a young fellow with a face like a mushroom. | | Leo | He has not. Bursting into tears. And you are most unkind to say I didn’t care for you. Nobody could have been fonder of you. |