Pygmalion and Three Other Plays (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (43 page)

BOOK: Pygmalion and Three Other Plays (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)
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BLENKINSOP
[putting his, fingers in his ears]
No, no: it’s no use. I know what youre going to say: Ive said it often to others. I cant afford to take care of myself; and theres an end of it. If a fortnight’s holiday would save my life, I’d have to die. I shall get on as others have to get on. We cant all go to St Moritz or to Egypt, you know, Sir Ralph. Dont talk about it.
Embarrassed silence.
SIR PATRICK [
grunts and looks hard at RIDGEON
]
!
SCHUTZMACHER
[looking at his watch and rising]
I must go. It’s been a very pleasant evening, Colly. You might let me have my portrait if you dont mind. I’ll send Mr Dubedat that couple of sovereigns for it.
RIDGEON
[giving him the menu card]
Oh dont do that, Loony. I dont think he’d like that.
SCHUTZMACHER Well, of course I shant if you feel that way about it. But I dont think you understand Dubedat. However, perhaps thats because I’m a Jew. Good-night, Dr Blenkinsop
[shaking hands
]
.
BLENKINSOP Good-night, sir—I mean—Good-night.
SCHUTZMACHER
[waving his hand to the rest]
Good-night, everybody.
B. B. repeats the salutation several times, in varied musical tones. SCHUTZMACHER goes out.
SIR PATRICK It’s time for us all to move.
[He rises and comes between BLENKINSOP and WALPOLE. RIDGEON also rises].
Mr Walpole: take Blenkinsop home: he’s had enough of the open air cure for to-night. Have you a thick overcoat to wear in the motor, Dr Blenkinsop?
BLENKINSOP Oh, theyll give me some brown paper in the hotel; and a few thicknesses of brown paper across the chest are better than any fur coat.
WALPOLE Well, come along. Good-night, Colly.Youre coming with us, arnt you, B. B.?
B. B. Yes: I’m coming.
[WALPOLE and BLENKINSOP go into the hotel].
Good-night, my dear Ridgeon [
shaking hands affectionately
]. Dont let us lose sight of your interesting patient and his very charming wife. We must not judge him too hastily, you know.
[With unction]
G o o o o o o o o d-night, Paddy. Bless you, dear old chap.
[SIR PATRICK utters a formidable grunt. B. B. laughs and pats him indulgently on the shoulder].
Good-night. Good-night. Good-night. Good-night.
[He good-nights himself into the hotel].
The others have meanwhile gone without ceremony. RIDGEON and SIR PATRICK are left alone together. RIDGEON, deep in thought, comes down to SIR PATRICK.
SIR PATRICK Well, Mr Savior of Lives: which is it to be? that honest decent man Blenkinsop, or that rotten blackguard of an artist, eh?
RIDGEON It’s not an easy case to judge, is it? Blenkinsop’s an honest decent man; but is he any use? Dubedat’s a rotten blackguard; but he’s a genuine source of pretty and pleasant and good things.
SIR PATRICK What will he be a source of for that poor innocent wife of his, when she finds him out?
RIDGEON Thats true. Her life will be a hell.
SIR PATRICK And tell me this. Suppose you had this choice put before you: either to go through life and find all the pictures bad but all the men and women good, or to go through life and find all the pictures good and all the men and women rotten. Which would you choose?
RIDGEON Thats a devilishly difficult question, Paddy. The pictures are so agreeable, and the good people so infernally disagreeable and mischievous, that I really cant undertake to say offhand which I should prefer to do without.
SIR PATRICK Come come! none of your cleverness with me: I’m too old for it. Blenkinsop isnt that sort of good man; and you know it.
RIDGEON It would be simpler if Blenkinsop could paint Dubedat’s pictures.
SIR PATRICK It would be simpler still if Dubedat had some of Blenkinsop’s honesty. The world isnt going to be made simple for you, my lad: you must take it as it is.Youve to hold the scales between Blenkinsop and Dubedat. Hold them fairly.
RIDGEON Well, I’ll be as fair as I can . I’ll put into one scale all the pounds Dubedat has borrowed, and into the other all the half-crowns that Blenkinsop hasnt borrowed.
SIR PATRICK And youll take out of Dubedat’s scale all the faith he has destroyed and the honor he has lost, and youll put into Blenkinsop’s scale all the faith he has justified and the honor he has created.
RIDGEON Come come, Paddy! none of your claptrap with me: I’m too sceptical for it. I’m not at all convinced that the world wouldnt be a better world if everybody behaved as Dubedat does than it is now that everybody behaves as Blenkinsop does.
SIR PATRICK Then why dont y o u behave as Dubedat does?
RIDGEON Ah, that beats me. Thats the experimental test. Still, it’s a dilemma. It’s a dilemma. You see theres a complication we havnt mentioned.
SIR PATRICK Whats that?
RIDGEON Well, if I let Blenkinsop die, at least nobody can say I did it because I wanted to marry his widow.
SIR PATRICK Eh? Whats that?
RIDGEON Now if I let Dubedat die, I’ll marry his widow
SIR PATRICK Perhaps she wont have you, you know.
RIDGEON
[with a self-assured shake of the head]
I’ve a pretty good flair for that sort of thing. I know when a woman is interested in me. She is.
SIR PATRICK Well, sometimes a man knows best; and sometimes he knows worst. Youd much better cure them both.
RIDGEON I cant. I’m at my limit. I can squeeze in one more case, but not two. I must choose.
SIR PATRICK Well, you must choose as if she didnt exist: thats clear.
RIDGEON Is that clear to you? Mind: it’s not clear to me. She troubles my judgment.
SIR PATRICK To me, it’s a plain choice between a man and a lot of pictures.
RIDGEON It’s easier to replace a dead man than a good picture.
SIR PATRICK Colly: when you live in an age that runs to pictures and statues and plays and brass bands because its men and women are not good enough to comfort its poor aching soul, you should thank Providence that you belong to a profession which is a high and great profession because its business is to heal and mend men and women.
RIDGEON In short, as a member of a high and great profession, I’m to kill my patient.
SIR PATRICK Dont talk wicked nonsense. You cant kill him. But you can leave him in other hands.
RIDGEON In B. B.‘s, for instance: eh? [
looking at him significantly].
SIR PATRICK
[demurely facing his
look] Sir Ralph Bloomfield Bonington is a very eminent physician.
RIDGEON He is.
SIR PATRICK I’m going for my hat.
RIDGEON strikes the bell as SIR PATRICK makes for the hotel. A waiter comes.
RIDGEON
[to the waiter]
Myi bill, please.
WAITER Yes, sir.
He goes for it.
ACT III
In Dubedat’s studio. Viewed from the large window the outer door is in the wall on the left at the near end. The door leading to the inner rooms is in the opposite wall, at the far end. The facing wall has neither window nor door. The plaster on all the walls is uncovered and undecorated, except by scrawlings of charcoal sketches and memoranda. There is a studio throne (a chair on a dais) a little to the left, opposite the inner door, and an easel to the right, opposite the outer door, with a dilapidated chair at it. Near the easel and against the wall is a bare wooden table with bottles and jars of oil and medium, paint-smudged rags, tubes of color, brushes, charcoal, a small lay figure,
fa
a kettle and spirit-lamp,
fb
and other odds and ends. By the table is a sofa, littered with drawing blocks, sketch-books, loose sheets of paper, newspapers, books, and more smudged rags. Next the outer door is an umbrella and hat stand, occupied partly by Louis’ hats and cloak and muffler, and partly by odds and ends of costumes. There is an old piano stool on the near side of this door. In the corner near the inner door is a little tea-table. A lay figure, in a cardinal’s robe and hat, with an hour-glass in one hand and a scythe slung on its back, smiles with inane malice at Louis, who, in a milkman’s smock much smudged with colors, is painting a piece of brocade which he has draped about his
wife. She is sitting on the throne, not interested in the painting, and appealing to him very anxiously about another matter.
MRS DUBEDAT Promise.
LOUIS
[putting on a touch of paint with notable skill and care and answering quite perfunctorily]
I promise, my darling.
MRS DUBEDAT When you want money, you will always come to me.
LOUIS But it’s so sordid, dearest. I hate money. I cant keep always bothering you for money, money, money. Thats what drives me sometimes to ask other people, though I hate doing it.
MRS DUBEDAT It is far better to ask me, dear. It gives people a wrong idea of you.
LOUIS But I want to spare your little fortune, and raise money on my own work. Dont be unhappy, love: I can easily earn enough to pay it all back. I shall have a one-man-show next season; and then there will be no more money troubles.
[Putting down his palette]
There! I mustnt do any more on that until it’s bone-dry; so you may come down.
MRS DUBEDAT
[throwing off the drapery as she steps down, and revealing a plain frock of tussore silk]
fc
But you have promised, remember, seriously and faithfully, never to borrow again until you have first asked me.
LOUIS Seriously and faithfully.
[Embracing her]
Ah, my love, how right you are! how much it means to me to have you by me to guard me against living too much in the skies. On my solemn oath, from this moment forth I will never borrow another penny.
MRS DUBEDAT
[delighted]
Ah, thats right. Does his wicked worrying wife torment him and drag him down from the clouds.
[She kisses him].
And now, dear, wont you finish those drawings for Maclean?
LOUIS Oh, they dont matter. Ive got nearly all the money from him in advance.
MRS DUBEDAT But, dearest, that is just the reason why you should finish them. He asked me the other day whether you really intended to finish them.
LOUIS Confound his impudence! What the devil does he take me for? Now that just destroys all my interest in the beastly job. Ive a good mind to throw up the commission, and pay him back his money.
MRS DUBEDAT We cant afford that, dear. You had better finish the drawings and have done with them. I think it is a mistake to accept money in advance.
LOUIS But how are we to live?
MRS DUBEDAT Well, Louis, it is getting hard enough as it is, now that they are all refusing to pay except on delivery.
LOUIS Damn those fellows! they think of nothing and care for nothing but their wretched money.
MRS DUBEDAT Still, if they pay us, they ought to have what they pay for.
LOUIS
[coaxing]
There now: thats enough lecturing for to-day. Ive promised to be good, havnt I?
MRS DUBEDAT
[putting her arms round his neck]
You know that I hate lecturing, and that I dont for a moment misunderstand you, dear, dont you?
LOUIS
[fondly]
I know. I know. I’m a wretch; and youre an angel. Oh, if only I were strong enough to work steadily, I’d make my darling’s house a temple, and her shrine a chapel more beautiful than was ever imagined. I cant pass the shops without wrestling with the temptation to go in and order all the really good things they have for you.
MRS DUBEDAT I want nothing but you, dear.
[She gives him a caress, to which he responds so passionately that she disengages herself].
There! be good now: remember that the doctors are coming this morning. Isnt it extraordinarily kind of them, Louis, to insist on coming? all of them, to consult about you?
LOUIS
[coolly]
Oh, I daresay they think it will be a feather in their cap to cure a rising artist. They wouldnt come if it didnt amuse them, anyhow.
[Someone knocks at the door].
I say: it’s not time yet, is it?
BOOK: Pygmalion and Three Other Plays (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)
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