Man and Superman · Act III (2/2) (1/9)
The chief, with a magnificent fling of the end of his cloak across his left shoulder, rises to address them. The applause which greets him shows that he is a favorite orator.
The Chief Friends and fellow brigands. I have a proposal to make to this meeting. We have now spent three evenings in discussing the question Have Anarchists or Social-Democrats the most personal courage? We have gone into the principles of Anarchism and Social-Democracy at great length. The cause of Anarchy has been ably represented by our one Anarchist, who doesn’t know what Anarchism means Laughter.⁠—
The Anarchist Rising. A point of order, Mendoza⁠—
Mendoza Forcibly. No, by thunder: your last point of order took half an hour. Besides, Anarchists don’t believe in order.
The Anarchist Mild, polite but persistent: he is, in fact, the respectable looking elderly man in the celluloid collar and cuffs. That is a vulgar error. I can prove⁠—
Mendoza Order, order.
The Others Shouting.
Order, order.
Sit down.
Chair!
Shut up.
The Anarchist is suppressed.
Mendoza On the other hand we have three Social-Democrats among us. They are not on speaking terms; and they have put before us three distinct and incompatible views of Social-Democracy.
The Majority Shouting assent.
Hear, hear!
So we are.
Right.
The Rowdy Social-Democrat Smarting under oppression. You ain’t no Christian. You’re a Sheeny, you are.
Mendoza With crushing magnanimity. My friend; I am an exception to all rules. It is true that I have the honor to be a Jew; and, when the Zionists need a leader to reassemble our race on its historic soil of Palestine, Mendoza will not be the last to volunteer Sympathetic applause⁠—hear, hear, etc. But I am not a slave to any superstition. I have swallowed all the formulas, even that of Socialism; though, in a sense, once a Socialist, always a Socialist.
The Social-Democrats Hear, hear!
Mendoza But I am well aware that the ordinary man⁠—even the ordinary brigand, who can scarcely be called an ordinary man Hear, hear!⁠—is not a philosopher. Common sense is good enough for him; and in our business affairs common sense is good enough for me. Well, what is our business here in the Sierra Nevada, chosen by the Moors as the fairest spot in Spain? Is it to discuss abstruse questions of political economy? No: it is to hold up motor cars and secure a more equitable distribution of wealth.
The Sulky Social-Democrat All made by labor, mind you.
Mendoza Urbanely. Undoubtedly. All made by labor, and on its way to be squandered by wealthy vagabonds in the dens of vice that disfigure the sunny shores of the Mediterranean. We intercept that wealth. We restore it to circulation among the class that produced it and that chiefly needs it⁠—the working class. We do this at the risk of our lives and liberties, by the exercise of the virtues of courage, endurance, foresight, and abstinence⁠—especially abstinence. I myself have eaten nothing but prickly pears and broiled rabbit for three days.
The Sulky Social-Democrat Stubbornly. No more ain’t we.
Mendoza Indignantly. Have I taken more than my share?
The Sulky Social-Democrat Unmoved. Why should you?
The Anarchist Why should he not? To each according to his needs: from each according to his means.
The Frenchman Shaking his fist at the anarchist. Fumiste!
Mendoza Diplomatically. I agree with both of you.
The Genuinely English Brigands Hear, hear!
Bravo, Mendoza!
Mendoza What I say is, let us treat one another as gentlemen, and strive to excel in personal courage only when we take the field.
The Rowdy Social-Democrat Derisively. Shikespear.
A whistle comes from the goatherd on the hill. He springs up and points excitedly forward along the road to the north.
The Goatherd Automobile! Automobile! He rushes down the hill and joins the rest, who all scramble to their feet.
Mendoza In ringing tones. To arms! Who has the gun?
The Sulky Social-Democrat Handing a rifle to Mendoza. Here.
Mendoza Have the nails been strewn in the road?
The Rowdy Social-Democrat Two ahnces of ’em.
Mendoza Good! To the Frenchman. With me, Duval. If the nails fail, puncture their tires with a bullet. He gives the rifle to Duval, who follows him up the hill. Mendoza produces an opera glass. The others hurry across to the road and disappear to the north.
Mendoza On the hill, using his glass. Two only, a capitalist and his chauffeur. They look English.
Duval Angliche! Aoh yess. Cochons! Handling the rifle. Faut tire, n’est-ce-pas?
Mendoza No: the nails have gone home. Their tire is down: they stop.
Duval Shouting to the others. Fondez sur eux, nom de Dieu!
Mendoza Rebuking his excitement. Du calme, Duval: keep your hair on. They take it quietly. Let us descend and receive them.
Mendoza* descends, passing behind the fire and coming forward, whilst Tanner and Straker, in their motoring goggles, leather coats, and caps, are led in from the road by brigands*.
Tanner Is this the gentleman you describe as your boss? Does he speak English?
The Rowdy Social-Democrat Course he does. Y’don’t suppowz we Hinglishmen lets ahrselves be bossed by a bloomin Spenniard, do you?
Mendoza With dignity. Allow me to introduce myself: Mendoza, President of the League of the Sierra! Posing loftily. I am a brigand: I live by robbing the rich.
Tanner Promptly. I am a gentleman: I live by robbing the poor. Shake hands.
The English Social-Democrats Hear, hear!
General laughter and good humor. Tanner and Mendoza shake hands. The Brigands drop into their former places.
Straker Ere! Where do I come in?
Tanner Introducing. My friend and chauffeur.
The Sulky Social-Democrat Suspiciously. Well, which is he? Friend or show-foor? It makes all the difference you know.
Mendoza Explaining. We should expect ransom for a friend. A professional chauffeur is free of the mountains. He even takes a trifling percentage of his princpal’s ransom if he will honor us by accepting it.
Straker I see. Just to encourage me to come this way again. Well, I’ll think about it.
Duval Impulsively rushing across to Straker. Mon frere! He embraces him rapturously and kisses him on both cheeks.
Straker Disgusted. ’Ere, git out: don’t be silly. Who are you, pray?
Duval Duval: Social-Democrat.
Straker Oh, you’re a Social-Democrat, are you?
The Anarchist He means that he has sold out to the parliamentary humbugs and the bourgeoisie. Compromise! That is his faith.
Duval Furiously. I understand what he say. He say Bourgeois. He say Compromise. Jamais de la vie! Miserable menteur⁠—
Straker See here, Captain Mendoza, ’ow much o’ this sort o’ thing do you put up with here? Are we ’avin a pleasure trip in the mountains, or are we at a Socialist meetin?
The Majority Hear, hear!
Shut up.
Chuck it.
Sit down, etc. etc.
The Social-Democrats* and the Anarchist are hurtled into the background. Straker, after superintending this proceeding with satisfaction, places himself on Mendoza’s left, Tanner* being on his right.
Mendoza Can we offer you anything? Broiled rabbit and prickly pears⁠—
Tanner Thank you: we have dined.
Mendoza To his followers. Gentlemen: business is over for the day. Go as you please until morning.
The Brigands disperse into groups lazily. Some go into the cave. Others sit down or lie down to sleep in the open. A few produce a pack of cards and move off towards the road; for it is now starlight; and they know that motor cars have lamps which can be turned to account for lighting a card party.
Straker Calling after them. Don’t none of you go fooling with that car, d’ye hear?
Mendoza No fear, Monsieur le Chauffeur. The first one we captured cured us of that.
Straker Interested. What did it do?
Mendoza It carried three brave comrades of ours, who did not know how to stop it, into Granada, and capsized them opposite the police station. Since then we never touch one without sending for the chauffeur. Shall we chat at our ease?
Tanner By all means.
Tanner*, Mendoza, and Straker sit down on the turf by the fire. Mendoza* delicately waives his presidential dignity, of which the right to sit on the squared stone block is the appanage, by sitting on the ground like his guests, and using the stone only as a support for his back.
Mendoza It is the custom in Spain always to put off business until tomorrow. In fact, you have arrived out of office hours. However, if you would prefer to settle the question of ransom at once, I am at your service.
Tanner Tomorrow will do for me. I am rich enough to pay anything in reason.
Mendoza Respectfully, much struck by this admission. You are a remarkable man, sir. Our guests usually describe themselves as miserably poor.
Tanner Pooh! Miserably poor people don’t own motor cars.
Mendoza Precisely what we say to them.
Tanner Treat us well: we shall not prove ungrateful.
Straker No prickly pears and broiled rabbits, you know. Don’t tell me you can’t do us a bit better than that if you like.
Mendoza Wine, kids, milk, cheese and bread can be procured for ready money.
Straker Graciously. Now you’re talking.
Tanner Are you all Socialists here, may I ask?
Mendoza Repudiating this humiliating misconception. Oh no, no, no: nothing of the kind, I assure you. We naturally have modern views as to the justice of the existing distribution of wealth: otherwise we should lose our self-respect. But nothing that you could take exception to, except two or three faddists.
Tanner I had no intention of suggesting anything discreditable. In fact, I am a bit of a Socialist myself.
Straker Drily. Most rich men are, I notice.
Mendoza Quite so. It has reached us, I admit. It is in the air of the century.
Straker Socialism must be looking up a bit if your chaps are taking to it.
Mendoza That is true, sir. A movement which is confined to philosophers and honest men can never exercise any real political influence: there are too few of them. Until a movement shows itself capable of spreading among brigands, it can never hope for a political majority.
Tanner But are your brigands any less honest than ordinary citizens?
Mendoza Sir: I will be frank with you. Brigandage is abnormal. Abnormal professions attract two classes: those who are not good enough for ordinary bourgeois life and those who are too good for it. We are dregs and scum, sir: the dregs very filthy, the scum very superior.
Straker Take care! Some o’ the dregs’ll hear you.
Mendoza It does not matter: each brigand thinks himself scum, and likes to hear the others called dregs.
Tanner Come! You are a wit. Mendoza inclines his head, flattered. May one ask you a blunt question?
Mendoza As blunt as you please.
Tanner How does it pay a man of your talent to shepherd such a flock as this on broiled rabbit and prickly pears? I have seen men less gifted, and I’ll swear less honest, supping at the Savoy on foie gras and champagne.
Mendoza Pooh! They have all had their turn at the broiled rabbit, just as I shall have my turn at the Savoy. Indeed, I have had a turn there already⁠—as waiter.
Tanner A waiter! You astonish me!
Mendoza Reflectively. Yes: I, Mendoza of the Sierra, was a waiter. Hence, perhaps, my cosmopolitanism. With sudden intensity. Shall I tell you the story of my life?
Straker Apprehensively. If it ain’t too long, old chap⁠—
Tanner Interrupting him. Tsh-sh: you are a Philistine, Henry: you have no romance in you. To Mendoza. You interest me extremely, President. Never mind Henry: he can go to sleep.
Mendoza The woman I loved⁠—
Straker Oh, this is a love story, is it? Right you are. Go on: I was only afraid you were going to talk about yourself.
Mendoza Myself! I have thrown myself away for her sake: that is why I am here. No matter: I count the world well lost for her. She had, I pledge you my word, the most magnificent head of hair I ever saw. She had humor; she had intellect; she could cook to perfection; and her highly strung temperament made her uncertain, incalculable, variable, capricious, cruel, in a word, enchanting.
Straker A six shillin novel sort o’ woman, all but the cookin’. ’Er name was Lady Gladys Plantagenet, wasn’t it?
Mendoza No, sir: she was not an earl’s daughter. Photography, reproduced by the halftone process, has made me familiar with the appearance of the daughters of the English peerage; and I can honestly say that I would have sold the lot, faces, dowries, clothes, titles, and all, for a smile from this woman. Yet she was a woman of the people, a worker: otherwise⁠—let me reciprocate your bluntness⁠—I should have scorned her.
Tanner Very properly. And did she respond to your love?
Mendoza Should I be here if she did? She objected to marry a Jew.
Tanner On religious grounds?
Mendoza No: she was a freethinker. She said that every Jew considers in his heart that English people are dirty in their habits.
Tanner Surprised. Dirty!
Mendoza It showed her extraordinary knowledge of the world; for it is undoubtedly true. Our elaborate sanitary code makes us unduly contemptuous of the Gentile.
Tanner Did you ever hear that, Henry?
Straker I’ve heard my sister say so. She was cook in a Jewish family once.
Mendoza I could not deny it; neither could I eradicate the impression it made on her mind. I could have got round any other objection; but no woman can stand a suspicion of indelicacy as to her person. My entreaties were in vain: she always retorted that she wasn’t good enough for me, and recommended me to marry an accursed barmaid named Rebecca Lazarus, whom I loathed. I talked of suicide: she offered me a packet of beetle poison to do it with. I hinted at murder: she went into hysterics; and as I am a living man I went to America so that she might sleep without dreaming that I was stealing upstairs to cut her throat. In America I went out west and fell in with a man who was wanted by the police for holding up trains. It was he who had the idea of holding up motors cars⁠—in the South of Europe: a welcome idea to a desperate and disappointed man. He gave me some valuable introductions to capitalists of the right sort. I formed a syndicate; and the present enterprise is the result. I became leader, as the Jew always becomes leader, by his brains and imagination. But with all my pride of race I would give everything I possess to be an Englishman. I am like a boy: I cut her name on the trees and her initials on the sod. When I am alone I lie down and tear my wretched hair and cry Louisa⁠—
Straker Startled. Louisa!
Mendoza It is her name⁠—Louisa⁠—Louisa Straker⁠—
Tanner Straker!
Straker Scrambling up on his knees most indignantly. Look here: Louisa Straker is my sister, see? Wot do you mean by gassin about her like this? Wot she got to do with you?
Mendoza A dramatic coincidence! You are Enry, her favorite brother!
Straker Oo are you callin Enry? What call have you to take a liberty with my name or with hers? For two pins I’d punch your fat ed, so I would.
Mendoza With grandiose calm. If I let you do it, will you promise to brag of it afterwards to her? She will be reminded of her Mendoza: that is all I desire.