Major Barbara · Act III (2/2) (2/2)

| Undershaft | Hugely tickled. You don’t say so! What! no capacity for business, no knowledge of law, no sympathy with art, no pretension to philosophy; only a simple knowledge of the secret that has puzzled all the philosophers, baffled all the lawyers, muddled all the men of business, and ruined most of the artists: the secret of right and wrong. Why, man, you’re a genius, master of masters, a god! At twenty-four, too! | | Stephen | Keeping his temper with difficulty. You are pleased to be facetious. I pretend to nothing more than any honorable English gentleman claims as his birthright he sits down angrily. | | Undershaft | Oh, that’s everybody’s birthright. Look at poor little Jenny Hill, the Salvation lassie! she would think you were laughing at her if you asked her to stand up in the street and teach grammar or geography or mathematics or even drawing-room dancing; but it never occurs to her to doubt that she can teach morals and religion. You are all alike, you respectable people. You can’t tell me the bursting strain of a ten-inch gun, which is a very simple matter; but you all think you can tell me the bursting strain of a man under temptation. You daren’t handle high explosives; but you’re all ready to handle honesty and truth and justice and the whole duty of man, and kill one another at that game. What a country! what a world! | | Lady Britomart | Uneasily. What do you think he had better do, Andrew? | | Undershaft | Oh, just what he wants to do. He knows nothing; and he thinks he knows everything. That points clearly to a political career. Get him a private secretaryship to someone who can get him an Under Secretaryship; and then leave him alone. He will find his natural and proper place in the end on the Treasury bench. | | Stephen | Springing up again. I am sorry, sir, that you force me to forget the respect due to you as my father. I am an Englishman; and I will not hear the government of my country insulted. He thrusts his hands in his pockets, and walks angrily across to the window. | | Undershaft | With a touch of brutality. The government of your country! I am the government of your country: I, and Lazarus. Do you suppose that you and half a dozen amateurs like you, sitting in a row in that foolish gabble shop, can govern Undershaft and Lazarus? No, my friend: you will do what pays us. You will make war when it suits us, and keep peace when it doesn’t. You will find out that trade requires certain measures when we have decided on those measures. When I want anything to keep my dividends up, you will discover that my want is a national need. When other people want something to keep my dividends down, you will call out the police and military. And in return you shall have the support and applause of my newspapers, and the delight of imagining that you are a great statesman. Government of your country! Be off with you, my boy, and play with your caucuses and leading articles and historic parties and great leaders and burning questions and the rest of your toys. I am going back to my counting house to pay the piper and call the tune. | | Stephen | Actually smiling, and putting his hand on his father’s shoulder with indulgent patronage. Really, my dear father, it is impossible to be angry with you. You don’t know how absurd all this sounds to me. You are very properly proud of having been industrious enough to make money; and it is greatly to your credit that you have made so much of it. But it has kept you in circles where you are valued for your money and deferred to for it, instead of in the doubtless very old-fashioned and behind-the-times public school and university where I formed my habits of mind. It is natural for you to think that money governs England; but you must allow me to think I know better. | | Undershaft | And what does govern England, pray? | | Stephen | Character, father, character. | | Undershaft | Whose character? Yours or mine? | | Stephen | Neither yours nor mine, father, but the best elements in the English national character. | | Undershaft | Stephen: I’ve found your profession for you. You’re a born journalist. I’ll start you with a high-toned weekly review. There! | | | Stephen goes to the smaller writing table and busies himself with his letters. | | | Sarah, Barbara, Lomax, and Cusins come in ready for walking. Barbara crosses the room to the window and looks out. Cusins drifts amiably to the armchair, and Lomax remains near the door, whilst Sarah comes to her mother. | | Sarah | Go and get ready, mamma: the carriage is waiting. Lady Britomart leaves the room. | | Undershaft | *To Sarah. Good day, my dear. Good afternoon, Mr. Lomax. | | Lomax | Vaguely. Ahdedoo. | | Undershaft | To Cusins. quite well after last night, Euripides, eh? | | Cusins | As well as can be expected. | | Undershaft | That’s right. To Barbara. So you are coming to see my death and devastation factory, Barbara? | | Barbara | At the window. You came yesterday to see my salvation factory. I promised you a return visit. | | Lomax | Coming forward between Sarah and Undershaft. You’ll find it awfully interesting. I’ve been through the Woolwich Arsenal; and it gives you a ripping feeling of security, you know, to think of the lot of beggars we could kill if it came to fighting. To Undershaft, with sudden solemnity. Still, it must be rather an awful reflection for you, from the religious point of view as it were. You’re getting on, you know, and all that. | | Sarah | You don’t mind Cholly’s imbecility, papa, do you? | | Lomax | Much taken aback. Oh I say! | | Undershaft | Mr. Lomax looks at the matter in a very proper spirit, my dear. | | Lomax | Just so. That’s all I meant, I assure you. | | Sarah | Are you coming, Stephen? | | Stephen | Well, I am rather busy⁠—er⁠—Magnanimously. Oh well, yes: I’ll come. That is, if there is room for me. | | Undershaft | I can take two with me in a little motor I am experimenting with for field use. You won’t mind its being rather unfashionable. It’s not painted yet; but it’s bullet proof. | | Lomax | Appalled at the prospect of confronting Wilton Crescent in an unpainted motor. Oh I say! | | Sarah | The carriage for me, thank you. Barbara doesn’t mind what she’s seen in. | | Lomax | I say, Dolly old chap: do you really mind the car being a guy? Because of course if you do I’ll go in it. Still⁠— | | Cusins | I prefer it. | | Lomax | Thanks awfully, old man. Come, Sarah. He hurries out to secure his seat in the carriage. Sarah follows him. | | Cusins | Moodily walking across to Lady Britomart’s writing table. Why are we two coming to this Works Department of Hell? that is what I ask myself. | | Barbara | I have always thought of it as a sort of pit where lost creatures with blackened faces stirred up smoky fires and were driven and tormented by my father. Is it like that, dad? | | Undershaft | Scandalized. My dear! It is a spotlessly clean and beautiful hillside town. | | Cusins | With a Methodist chapel? Oh do say there’s a Methodist chapel. | | Undershaft | There are two: a primitive one and a sophisticated one. There is even an Ethical Society; but it is not much patronized, as my men are all strongly religious. In the High Explosives Sheds they object to the presence of Agnostics as unsafe. | | Cusins | And yet they don’t object to you! | | Barbara | Do they obey all your orders? | | Undershaft | I never give them any orders. When I speak to one of them it is “Well, Jones, is the baby doing well? and has Mrs. Jones made a good recovery?” “Nicely, thank you, sir.” And that’s all. | | Cusins | But Jones has to be kept in order. How do you maintain discipline among your men? | | Undershaft | I don’t. They do. You see, the one thing Jones won’t stand is any rebellion from the man under him, or any assertion of social equality between the wife of the man with 4 shillings a week less than himself and Mrs. Jones! Of course they all rebel against me, theoretically. Practically, every man of them keeps the man just below him in his place. I never meddle with them. I never bully them. I don’t even bully Lazarus. I say that certain things are to be done; but I don’t order anybody to do them. I don’t say, mind you, that there is no ordering about and snubbing and even bullying. The men snub the boys and order them about; the carmen snub the sweepers; the artisans snub the unskilled laborers; the foremen drive and bully both the laborers and artisans; the assistant engineers find fault with the foremen; the chief engineers drop on the assistants; the departmental managers worry the chiefs; and the clerks have tall hats and hymnbooks and keep up the social tone by refusing to associate on equal terms with anybody. The result is a colossal profit, which comes to me. | | Cusins | Revolted. You really are a⁠—well, what I was saying yesterday. | | Barbara | What was he saying yesterday? | | Undershaft | Never mind, my dear. He thinks I have made you unhappy. Have I? | | Barbara | Do you think I can be happy in this vulgar silly dress? I! who have worn the uniform. Do you understand what you have done to me? Yesterday I had a man’s soul in my hand. I set him in the way of life with his face to salvation. But when we took your money he turned back to drunkenness and derision. With intense conviction. I will never forgive you that. If I had a child, and you destroyed its body with your explosives⁠—if you murdered Dolly with your horrible guns⁠—I could forgive you if my forgiveness would open the gates of heaven to you. But to take a human soul from me, and turn it into the soul of a wolf! that is worse than any murder. | | Undershaft | Does my daughter despair so easily? Can you strike a man to the heart and leave no mark on him? | | Barbara | Her face lighting up. Oh, you are right: he can never be lost now: where was my faith? | | Cusins | Oh, clever clever devil! | | Barbara | You may be a devil; but God speaks through you sometimes. She takes her father’s hands and kisses them. You have given me back my happiness: I feel it deep down now, though my spirit is troubled. | | Undershaft | You have learnt something. That always feels at first as if you had lost something. | | Barbara | Well, take me to the factory of death, and let me learn something more. There must be some truth or other behind all this frightful irony. Come, Dolly. She goes out. | | Cusins | My guardian angel! To Undershaft. Avaunt! He follows Barbara. | | Stephen | Quietly, at the writing table. You must not mind Cusins, father. He is a very amiable good fellow; but he is a Greek scholar and naturally a little eccentric. | | Undershaft | Ah, quite so. Thank you, Stephen. Thank you. He goes out. | | | Stephen smiles patronizingly; buttons his coat responsibly; and crosses the room to the door. Lady Britomart, dressed for out-of-doors, opens it before he reaches it. She looks round for the others; looks at Stephen*; and turns to go without a word. | | Stephen | Embarrassed. Mother⁠— | | Lady Britomart | Don’t be apologetic, Stephen. And don’t forget that you have outgrown your mother. She goes out. |