Pygmalion and Three Other Plays (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (47 page)

RIDGEON You did not see much of the world in Cornwall, did you?

MRS DUBEDAT [
naïvely
] Oh yes. I saw a great deal every day of the beauty of the world—more than you ever see here in London. But I saw very few people, if that is what you mean. I was an only child.

RIDGEON That explains a good deal.

MRS DUBEDAT I had a great many dreams; but at last they all came to one dream.

RIDGEON
[with half a sigh]
Yes, the usual dream.

MRS DUBEDAT
[surprised]
Is it usual?

RIDGEON As I guess. You havnt yet told me what it was.

MRS DUBEDAT I didnt want to waste myself. I could do nothing myself; but I had a little property and I could help with it. I had even a little beauty: dont think me vain for knowing it. I knew that men of genius always had a terrible struggle with poverty and neglect at first. My dream was to save one of them from that, and bring some charm and happiness into his life. I prayed Heaven to send me one. I firmly believe that Louis was guided to me in answer to my prayer. He was no more like the other men I had met than the Thames Embankment is like our Cornish coasts. He saw everything that I saw, and drew it for me. He understood everything. He came to me like a child. Only fancy, doctor: he never even wanted to marry me: he never thought of the things other men think of! I had to propose it myself. Then he said he had no money. When I told him I had some, he said “Oh, all right,” just like a boy. He is still like that, quite unspoiled, a man in his thoughts, a great poet and artist in his dreams, and a child in his ways. I gave him myself and all I had that he might grow to his full height with plenty of sunshine. If I lost faith in him, it would mean the wreck and failure of my life. I should go back to Cornwall and die. I could show you the very cliff I should jump off. You must cure him: you must make him quite well again for me. I know that you can do it and that nobody else can. I implore you not to refuse what I am going to ask you to do. Take Louis yourself; and let Sir Ralph cure Dr Blenkinsop.

RIDGEON [
slowly
] Mrs Dubedat: do you really believe in my knowledge and skill as you say you do?

MRS DUBEDAT Absolutely. I do not give my trust by halves.

RIDGEON I know that. Well, I am going to test you—hard. Will you believe me when I tell you that I understand what you have just told me; that I have no desire but to serve you in the most faithful friendship; and that your hero must be preserved to you.

MRS DUBEDAT Oh forgive me. Forgive what I said. You will preserve him to me.

RIDGEON At all hazards.
[She kisses his hand. He rises hastily].
No: you have not heard the rest.
[She rises too].
You must believe me when I tell you that the one chance of preserving the hero lies in Louis being in the care of Sir Ralph.

MRS DUBEDAT [
firmly
] You say so: I have no more doubt: I believe you. Thank you.

RIDGEON Good-bye.
[She takes his hand].
I hope this will be a lasting friendship.

MRS DUBEDAT It will. My friendships end only with death.

RIDGEON Death ends everything, doesnt it? Good-bye.
With a sigh and a look of pity at her which she does not understand, he goes.

ACT IV

WALPOLE Hallo, Ridgeon!

RIDGEON Whats the matter! Have you been sent for, too?

WALPOLE Weve all been sent for. Ive only just come: I havnt seen him yet. The charwoman says that old Paddy Cullen has been here with B. B. for the last half-hour.
[SIR PATRICK, with bad news in his face, enters from the inner room].
Well: whats up?

SIR PATRICK Go in and see. B. B. is in there with him.

RIDGEON What has happened?

SIR PATRICK Do you remember Jane Marsh’s arm?

RIDGEON Is that whats happened?

SIR PATRICK Thats whats happened. His lung has gone like Jane’s arm. I never saw such a case. He has got through three months galloping consumption in three days.

RIDGEON B. B. got in on the negative phase.

SIR PATRICK Negative or positive, the lad’s done for. He wont last out the afternoon. He’ll go suddenly: Ive often seen it.

RIDGEON So long as he goes before his wife finds him out,
I
dont care. I fully expected this.

SIR PATRICK
[drilyJ
It’s a little hard on a lad to be killed because his wife has too high an opinion of him. Fortunately few of us are in any danger of that.

B. B. Ah, here you are, Ridgeon. Paddy’s told you, of course.

RIDGEON Yes.

B. B. It’s an enormously interesting case. You know, Colly, by Jupiter, if I didnt know as a matter of scientific fact that I’d been stimulating the phagocytes, I should say I’d been stimulating the other things. What is the explanation of it, Sir Patrick? How do you account for it, Ridgeon? Have we over-stimulated the phagocytes? Have they not only eaten up the bacilli, but attacked and destroyed the red corpuscles as well? a possibility suggested by the patient’s pallor. Nay, have they finally begun to prey on the lungs themselves? Or on one another? I shall write a paper about this case.

WALPOLE Whew! B. B.: youve done it this time.

B. B. What do you mean?

WALPOLE Killed him. The worst case of neglected blood-poisoning I ever saw. It’s too late now to do anything. He’d die under the anaesthetic.

B. B.
[offended]
Killed! Really, Walpole, if your monomania were not well known, I should take such an expression very seriously.

SIR PATRICK Come come! When youve both killed as many people as I have in my time youll feel humble enough about it. Come and look at him, Colly.

WALPOLE I apologize, B. B. But it’s blood-poisoning.

B. B.
[recovering his irresistible good nature]
My dear Walpole, e v e r y t h i n g is blood-poisoning. But upon my soul, I shall not use any of that stuff of Ridgeon’s again. What made me so sensitive about what you said just now is that, strictly between ourselves, Ridgeon has cooked our young friend’s goose.

MRS DUBEDAT Sir Ralph: what am I to do? That man who insisted on seeing me, and sent in word that his business was important to Louis, is a newspaper man. A paragraph appeared in the paper this morning saying that Louis is seriously ill; and this man wants to interview him about it. How can people be so brutally callous?

WALPOLE
[moving vengfully towards the door]
You just leave me to deal with him!

MRS DUBEDAT
[stopping him]
But Louis insists on seeing him: he almost began to cry about it. And he says he cant bear his room any longer. He says he wants to
[she struggles with a sob]
—to die in his studio. Sir Patrick says let him have his way: it can do no harm. What shall we do?

B. B.
[encouragingly]
Why, follow Sir Patrick’s excellent advice, of course. As he says, it can do him no harm; and it will no doubt do him good—a great deal of good. He will be much the better for it.

MRS DUBEDAT
[a little cheered]
Will you bring the man up here, Mr Walpole, and tell him that he may see Louis, but that he mustnt exhaust him by talking?
[WALPOLE nods and goes out by the outer door].
Sir Ralph, dont be angry with me; but Louis will die if he stays here. I must take him to Cornwall. He will recover there.

B. B.
[brightening wonderfully, as if Dubedat were already saved]
Cornwall! The very place for him! Wonderful for the lungs. Stupid of me not to think of it before. You are his best physician after all, dear lady. An inspiration! Cornwall: of course, yes, yes, yes.

MRS DUBEDAT
[comforted and touched]
You are so kind, Sir Ralph. But dont give me m u c h hope or I shall cry; and Louis cant bear that.

B. B.
[gently putting his protecting arm round her shoulders]
Then let us come back to him and help to carry him in. Cornwall! of course, of course. The very thing!
[They go together into the bedroom].

THE NEWSPAPER MAN
[looking round and making indecisive attempts at notes]
This is the studio, I suppose.

WALPOLE Yes.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN
[wittily]
Where he has his models, eh?

WALPOLE
[grimly irresponsive]
No doubt.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN Cubicle, you said it was?

WALPOLE Yes, tubercle.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN Which way do you spell it: is it c-u-b-i-c-a-l or c-l-e?

WALPOLE Tubercle, man, not cubical.
[Spelling it for him
] T-u-b-e-r-c-l-e.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN Oh! tubercle. Some disease, I suppose. I thought he had consumption. Are you one of the family or the doctor?

WALPOLE I’m neither one nor the other. I am M i s t e r Cutler Walpole. Put that down. Then put down Sir Colenso Ridgeon.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN Pigeon?

WALPOLE Ridgeon.
[Contemptuously snatching his book]
Here: youd better let me write the names down for you: youre sure to get them wrong. That comes of belonging to an illiterate profession, with no qualifications and no public register.
^fj
[
He writes the particulars].

THE NEWSPAPER MAN Oh, I say: you h a v e got your knife into us, havnt you?

WALPOLE
[vindictively]
I wish I had: I’d make a better man of you. Now attend.
[Shewing him the book]
These are the names of the three doctors. This is the patient. This is the address. This is the name of the disease.
[He shuts the book with a snap which makes the journalist blink, and returns it to him].
Mr Dubedat will be brought in here presently. He wants to see you because he doesnt know how bad he is. We’ll allow you to wait a few minutes to humor him; but if you talk to him, out you go. He may die at any moment.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN
[interested]
Is he as bad as that? I say: I a m in luck to-day. Would you mind letting me photograph you?
[He produces a camera].
Could you have a lancet or something in your hand?

WALPOLE Put it up. If you want my photograph you can get it in Baker Street
^fk
in any of the series of celebrities.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN But theyll want to be paid. If you wouldnt mind
[fingering the camera
]—?

WALPOLE I would. Put it up, I tell you. Sit down there and be quiet.