Major Barbara · Act II (2/2) (4/5)

| Jenny | By praying for it, of course. Mrs. Baines says she prayed for it last night; and she has never prayed for it in vain: never once. She goes to the gate and looks out into the street. | | Barbara | Who has dried her eyes and regained her composure. By the way, dad, Mrs. Baines has come to march with us to our big meeting this afternoon; and she is very anxious to meet you, for some reason or other. Perhaps she’ll convert you. | | Undershaft | I shall be delighted, my dear. | | Jenny | At the gate: excitedly. Major! Major! Here’s that man back again. | | Barbara | What man? | | Jenny | The man that hit me. Oh, I hope he’s coming back to join us. | | | Bill Walker*, with frost on his jacket, comes through the gate, his hands deep in his pockets and his chin sunk between his shoulders, like a cleaned-out gambler. He halts between Barbara and the drum. | | Barbara | Hullo, Bill! Back already! | | Bill | Nagging at her. Bin talkin ever sense, ’av you? | | Barbara | Pretty nearly. Well, has Todger paid you out for poor Jenny’s jaw? | | Bill | No he ain’t. | | Barbara | I thought your jacket looked a bit snowy. | | Bill | So it is snowy. You want to know where the snow come from, don’t you? | | Barbara | Yes. | | Bill | Well, it come from off the ground in Parkinses Corner in Kennintahn. It got rubbed off be my shoulders: see? | | Barbara | Pity you didn’t rub some off with your knees, Bill! That would have done you a lot of good. | | Bill | With sour mirthless humor. I was saving another man’s knees at the time. ’E was kneelin’ on my ’ed, so ’e was. | | Jenny | Who was kneeling on your head? | | Bill | Todger was. ’E was prayin’ for me: prayin’ comfortable with me as a carpet. So was Mog. So was the ’ole bloomin’ meetin. Mog she sez “O Lord break is stubborn spirit; but don’t ’urt ’is dear art.” That was wot she said. “Don’t ’urt ’is dear art”! An’ ’er bloke⁠—thirteen stun four!⁠—kneelin wiv all ’is weight on me. Funny, ain’t it? | | Jenny | Oh no. We’re so sorry, Mr. Walker. | | Barbara | Enjoying it frankly. Nonsense! of course it’s funny. Served you right, Bill! You must have done something to him first. | | Bill | Doggedly. I did wot I said I’d do. I spit in ’is eye. ’E looks up at the sky and sez, “O that I should be fahnd worthy to be spit upon for the gospel’s sake!” ’e sez; an’ Mog sez “Glory Allelloolier!”; an’ then ’e called me Brother, an’ dahned me as if I was a kid and ’e was me mother washin’ me a Setterda nawt. I ’adn’t just no show wiv ’im at all. Arf the street prayed; an’ the tother arf larfed fit to split theirselves. To Barbara. There! are you settisfawd nah? | | Barbara | Her eyes dancing. Wish I’d been there, Bill. | | Bill | Yes: you’d a got in a hextra bit o’ talk on me, wouldn’t you? | | Jenny | I’m so sorry, Mr. Walker. | | Bill | Fiercely. Don’t you go bein’ sorry for me: you’ve no call. Listen ’ere. I broke your jawr. | | Jenny | No, it didn’t hurt me: indeed it didn’t, except for a moment. It was only that I was frightened. | | Bill | I don’t want to be forgive be you, or be ennybody. Wot I did I’ll pay for. I tried to get me own jawr broke to settisfaw you⁠— | | Jenny | Distressed. Oh no⁠— | | Bill | Impatiently. Tell y’I did: cawn’t you listen to wot’s bein told you? All I got be it was bein’ made a sight of in the public street for me pains. Well, if I cawn’t settisfaw you one way, I can another. Listen ’ere! I ’ad two quid saved agen the frost; an’ I’ve a pahnd of it left. A mate o’ mine last week ’ad words with the Judy ’e’s goin to marry. ’E give ’er wot-for; an’ ’e’s bin fined fifteen bob. ’E ’ad a right to it ’er because they was goin to be marrid; but I ’adn’t no right to it you; so put anather fawv bob on an’ call it a pahnd’s worth. He produces a sovereign. Ere’s the money. Take it; and let’s ’av no more o’ your forgivin’ an prayin’ and your Major jawrin’ me. Let wot I done be done and paid for; and let there be a end of it. | | Jenny | Oh, I couldn’t take it, Mr. Walker. But if you would give a shilling or two to poor Rummy Mitchens! you really did hurt her; and she’s old. | | Bill | Contemptuously. Not likely. I’d give her anather as soon as look at ’er. Let her ’av the lawr o’ me as she threatened! She ain’t forgiven me: not mach. Wot I done to ’er is not on me mawnd⁠—wot she indicating Barbara. might call on me conscience⁠—no more than stickin’ a pig. It’s this Christian game o’ yours that I won’t ’av played agen me: this bloomin’ forgivin’ an’ noggin’ an jawrin’ that makes a man that sore that iz lawf’s a burdn to ’im. I won’t ’av it, I tell you; so take your money and stop throwin’ your silly bashed face hup agen me. | | Jenny | Major: may I take a little of it for the Army? | | Barbara | No: the Army is not to be bought. We want your soul, Bill; and we’ll take nothing less. | | Bill | Bitterly. I know. It ain’t enough. Me an’ me few shillins is not good enough for you. You’re a earl’s grendorter, you are. Nothin’ less than a underd pahnd for you. | | Undershaft | Come, Barbara! you could do a great deal of good with a hundred pounds. If you will set this gentleman’s mind at ease by taking his pound, I will give the other ninety-nine Bill, astounded by such opulence, instinctively touches his cap. | | Barbara | Oh, you’re too extravagant, papa. Bill offers twenty pieces of silver. All you need offer is the other ten. That will make the standard price to buy anybody who’s for sale. I’m not; and the Army’s not. To Bill. You’ll never have another quiet moment, Bill, until you come round to us. You can’t stand out against your salvation. | | Bill | Sullenly. I cawn’t stend aht agen music all wrastlers and artful tongued women. I’ve offered to pay. I can do no more. Take it or leave it. There it is. He throws the sovereign on the drum, and sits down on the horse-trough. The coin fascinates Snobby Price, who takes an early opportunity of dropping his cap on it. | | | Mrs. Baines comes from the shelter. She is dressed as a Salvation Army Commissioner. She is an earnest looking woman of about 40, with a caressing, urgent voice, and an appealing manner. | | Barbara | This is my father, Mrs. Baines. Undershaft comes from the table, taking his hat off with marked civility. Try what you can do with him. He won’t listen to me, because he remembers what a fool I was when I was a baby. | | | She leaves them together and chats with Jenny. | | Mrs. Baines | Have you been shown over the shelter, Mr. Undershaft? You know the work we’re doing, of course. | | Undershaft | Very civilly. The whole nation knows it, Mrs. Baines. | | Mrs. Baines | No, Sir: the whole nation does not know it, or we should not be crippled as we are for want of money to carry our work through the length and breadth of the land. Let me tell you that there would have been rioting this winter in London but for us. | | Undershaft | You really think so? | | Mrs. Baines | I know it. I remember 1886, when you rich gentlemen hardened your hearts against the cry of the poor. They broke the windows of your clubs in Pall Mall. | | Undershaft | Gleaming with approval of their method. And the Mansion House Fund went up next day from thirty thousand pounds to seventy-nine thousand! I remember quite well. | | Mrs. Baines | Well, won’t you help me to get at the people? They won’t break windows then. Come here, Price. Let me show you to this gentleman Price comes to be inspected. Do you remember the window breaking? | | Price | My ole father thought it was the revolution, ma’am. | | Mrs. Baines | Would you break windows now? | | Price | Oh no ma’m. The windows of eaven ’av bin opened to me. I know now that the rich man is a sinner like myself. | | Rummy | Appearing above at the loft door. Snobby Price! | | Price | Wot is it? | | Rummy | Your mother’s askin for you at the other gate in Crippses Lane. She’s heard about your confession. Price turns pale. | | Mrs. Baines | Go, Mr. Price; and pray with her. | | Jenny | You can go through the shelter, Snobby. | | Price | To Mrs. Baines. I couldn’t face her now; ma’am, with all the weight of my sins fresh on me. Tell her she’ll find her son at ’ome, waitin’ for her in prayer. He skulks off through the gate, incidentally stealing the sovereign on his way out by picking up his cap from the drum. | | Mrs. Baines | With swimming eyes. You see how we take the anger and the bitterness against you out of their hearts, Mr. Undershaft. | | Undershaft | It is certainly most convenient and gratifying to all large employers of labor, Mrs. Baines. | | Mrs. Baines | Barbara: Jenny: I have good news: most wonderful news. Jenny runs to her. My prayers have been answered. I told you they would, Jenny, didn’t I? | | Jenny | Yes, yes. | | Barbara | Moving nearer to the drum. Have we got money enough to keep the shelter open? | | Mrs. Baines | I hope we shall have enough to keep all the shelters open. Lord Saxmundham has promised us five thousand pounds⁠— | | Barbara | Hooray! | | Jenny | Glory! | | Mrs. Baines | —if⁠— | | Barbara | “If!” If what? | | Mrs. Baines | If five other gentlemen will give a thousand each to make it up to ten thousand. | | Barbara | Who is Lord Saxmundham? I never heard of him. | | Undershaft | Who has pricked up his ears at the peer’s name, and is now watching Barbara curiously. A new creation, my dear. You have heard of Sir Horace Bodger? | | Barbara | Bodger! Do you mean the distiller? Bodger’s whisky! | | Undershaft | That is the man. He is one of the greatest of our public benefactors. He restored the cathedral at Hakington. They made him a baronet for that. He gave half a million to the funds of his party: they made him a baron for that. | | Shirley | What will they give him for the five thousand? | | Undershaft | There is nothing left to give him. So the five thousand, I should think, is to save his soul. | | Mrs. Baines | Heaven grant it may! Oh Mr. Undershaft, you have some very rich friends. Can’t you help us towards the other five thousand? We are going to hold a great meeting this afternoon at the Assembly Hall in the Mile End Road. If I could only announce that one gentleman had come forward to support Lord Saxmundham, others would follow. Don’t you know somebody? Couldn’t you? Wouldn’t you? Her eyes fill with tears. oh, think of those poor people, Mr. Undershaft: think of how much it means to them, and how little to a great man like you. | | Undershaft | Sardonically gallant. Mrs. Baines: you are irresistible. I can’t disappoint you; and I can’t deny myself the satisfaction of making Bodger pay up. You shall have your five thousand pounds. | | Mrs. Baines | Thank God! | | Undershaft | You don’t thank me? | | Mrs. Baines | Oh sir, don’t try to be cynical: don’t be ashamed of being a good man. The Lord will bless you abundantly; and our prayers will be like a strong fortification round you all the days of your life. With a touch of caution. You will let me have the cheque to show at the meeting, won’t you? Jenny: go in and fetch a pen and ink. Jenny runs to the shelter door. | | Undershaft | Do not disturb Miss Hill: I have a fountain pen. Jenny halts. He sits at the table and writes the cheque. Cusins rises to make more room for him. They all watch him silently. | | Bill | Cynically, aside to Barbara, his voice and accent horribly debased. Wot prawce Selvytion nah? | | Barbara | Stop. Undershaft stops writing: they all turn to her in surprise. Mrs. Baines: are you really going to take this money? | | Mrs. Baines | Astonished. Why not, dear? | | Barbara | Why not! Do you know what my father is? Have you forgotten that Lord Saxmundham is Bodger the whisky man? Do you remember how we implored the County Council to stop him from writing Bodger’s Whisky in letters of fire against the sky; so that the poor drink-ruined creatures on the embankment could not wake up from their snatches of sleep without being reminded of their deadly thirst by that wicked sky sign? Do you know that the worst thing I have had to fight here is not the devil, but Bodger, Bodger, Bodger, with his whisky, his distilleries, and his tied houses? Are you going to make our shelter another tied house for him, and ask me to keep it? | | Bill | Rotten drunken whisky it is too. | | Mrs. Baines | Dear Barbara: Lord Saxmundham has a soul to be saved like any of us. If heaven has found the way to make a good use of his money, are we to set ourselves up against the answer to our prayers? | | Barbara | I know he has a soul to be saved. Let him come down here; and I’ll do my best to help him to his salvation. But he wants to send his cheque down to buy us, and go on being as wicked as ever. | | Undershaft | With a reasonableness which Cusins alone perceives to be ironical. My dear Barbara: alcohol is a very necessary article. It heals the sick⁠— | | Barbara | It does nothing of the sort. | | Undershaft | Well, it assists the doctor: that is perhaps a less questionable way of putting it. It makes life bearable to millions of people who could not endure their existence if they were quite sober. It enables Parliament to do things at eleven at night that no sane person would do at eleven in the morning. Is it Bodger’s fault that this inestimable gift is deplorably abused by less than one percent of the poor? He turns again to the table; signs the cheque; and crosses it. | | Mrs. Baines | Barbara: will there be less drinking or more if all those poor souls we are saving come tomorrow and find the doors of our shelters shut in their faces? Lord Saxmundham gives us the money to stop drinking⁠—to take his own business from him. | | Cusins | Impishly. Pure self-sacrifice on Bodger’s part, clearly! Bless dear Bodger! Barbara almost breaks down as Adolpbus, too, fails her. | | Undershaft | Tearing out the cheque and pocketing the book as he rises and goes past Cusins to Mrs. Baines. I also, Mrs. Baines, may claim a little disinterestedness. Think of my business! think of the widows and orphans! the men and lads torn to pieces with shrapnel and poisoned with lyddite! Mrs. Baines shrinks; but he goes on remorselessly. The oceans of blood, not one drop of which is shed in a really just cause! the ravaged crops! the peaceful peasants forced, women and men, to till their fields under the fire of opposing armies on pain of starvation! the bad blood of the fierce little cowards at home who egg on others to fight for the gratification of their national vanity! All this makes money for me: I am never richer, never busier than when the papers are full of it. Well, it is your work to preach peace on earth and goodwill to men. Mrs. Baines’s face lights up again. Every convert you make is a vote against war. Her lips move in prayer. Yet I give you this money to help you to hasten my own commercial ruin. He gives her the cheque. | | Cusins | Mounting the form in an ecstasy of mischief. The millennium will be inaugurated by the unselfishness of Undershaft and Bodger. Oh be joyful! He takes the drumsticks from his pockets and flourishes them. | | Mrs. Baines | Taking the cheque. The longer I live the more proof I see that there is an Infinite Goodness that turns everything to the work of salvation sooner or later. Who would have thought that any good could have come out of war and drink? And yet their profits are brought today to the feet of salvation to do its blessed work. She is affected to tears. | | Jenny | Running to Mrs. Baines and throwing her arms round her. Oh dear! how blessed, how glorious it all is! | | Cusins | In a convulsion of irony. Let us seize this unspeakable moment. Let us march to the great meeting at once. Excuse me just an instant. He rushes into the shelter. Jenny* takes her tambourine from the drum head. |