Man and Superman and Three Other Plays

by George Bernard Shaw

  MORELL [looking up, but with his pen raised ready to resume his work] Well? Where is Eugene?

  CANDIDA Washing his hands in the scullery-under the tap. He will make an excellent cook if he can only get over his dread of Maria.

  MORELL [shortly] Ha! No doubt. [He begins writing again.]

  CANDIDA [going nearer, and putting her hand down softly on his to stop him, as she says] Come here, dear. Let me look at you. [He drops his pen and yields himself at her disposal. She makes him rise and brings him a little away from the table, looking at him critically all the time.] Turn your face to the light. [She places him facing the window.] My boy is not looking well. Has he been overworking?

  MORELL Nothing more than usual.

  CANDIDA He looks very pale, and grey, and wrinkled, and old. [His melancholy deepens; and she attacks it with wilful gaiety.] Here [pulling him towards the easy chair] you’ve done enough writing for to-day. Leave Prossy to finish it and come and talk to me.

  iMORELL But-

  CANDIDA Yes, I must be talked to sometimes. [She makes him sit down, and seats herself on the carpet beside his knee.] Now [patting his hand] you’re beginning to look better already. Why don’t you give up all this tiresome overworking—going out every night lecturing and talking? Of course what you say is all very true and very right; but it does no good: they don’t mind what you say to them one little bit. Of course they agree with you; but what’s the use of people agreeing with you if they go and do just the opposite of what you tell them the moment your back is turned? Look at our congregation at St. Dominic‘s! Why do they come to hear you talking about Christianity every Sunday? Why, just because they’ve been so full of business and money-making for six days that they want to forget all about it and have a rest on the seventh, so that they can go back fresh and make money harder than ever! You positively help them at it instead of hindering them.

  MORELL [with energetic seriousness] You know very well, Candida, that I often blow them up soundly for that. But if there is nothing in their church-going but rest and diversion, why don’t they try something more amusing—more self-indulgent? There must be some good in the fact that they prefer St. Dominic’s to worse places on Sundays.

  CANDIDA Oh, the worst places aren’t open; and even if they were, they daren’t be seen going to them. Besides, James, dear, you preach so splendidly that it’s as good as a play for them. Why do you think the women are so enthusiastic?

  MORELL [shocked] Candida!

  CANDIDA Oh, I know. You silly boy: you think it’s your Socialism and your religion; but if it was that, they’d do what you tell them instead of only coming to look at you. They all have Prossy’s complaint.

  MORELL Prossy’s complaint! What do you mean, Candida?

  CANDIDA Yes, Prossy, and all the other secretaries you ever had. Why does Prossy condescend to wash up the things, and to peel potatoes and abase herself in all manner of ways for six shillings a week less than she used to get in a city office? She’s in love with you, James: that’s the reason. They’re all in love with you. And you are in love with preaching because you do it so beautifully. And you think it’s all enthusiasm for the kingdom of Heaven on earth; and so do they. You dear silly!

  MORELL Candida: what dreadful, what soul-destroying cynicism ! Are you jesting? Or-can it be?—are you jealous?

  CANDIDA [with curious thoughtfulness] Yes, I feel a little jealous sometimes.

  MORELL [incredulously] What! Of Prossy!

  CANDIDA [laughing] No, no, no, no. Not jealous of anybody. Jealous for somebody else, who is not loved as he ought to be.

  MORELL Me!

  CANDIDA You! Why, you’re spoiled with love and worship: you get far more than is good for you. No: I mean Eugene.

  MORELL [startled] Eugene!

  CANDIDA It seems unfair that all the love should go to you, and none to him, although he needs it so much more than you do. [A convulsive movement shakes him in spite of himself] What’s the matter ? Am I worrying you?

  MORELL [hastily] Not at all. [Looking at her with troubled intensity.] You know that I have perfect confidence in you, Candida.

  CANDIDA You vain thing! Are you so sure of your irresistible attractions ?

  MORELL Candida: you are shocking me. I never thought of my attractions. I thought of your goodness-your purity. That is what I confide in.

  CANDIDA What a nasty, uncomfortable thing to say to me! Oh, you area clergyman, James-a thorough clergyman.

  MORELL [turning away from her, heart-stricken] So Eugene says.

  CANDIDA [with lively interest, leaning over to him with her arms on his knee] Eugene’s always right. He’s a wonderful boy: I have grown fonder and fonder of him all the time I was away. Do you know, James, that though he has not the least suspicion of it himself, he is ready to fall madly in love with me?

  MORELL [grimly] Oh, he has no suspicion of it himself, hasn’t he?

  CANDIDA Not a bit. [She takes her arms from his knee, and turns thoughtfully, sinking into a more restful attitude with her hands in her lap.] Some day he will know-when he is grown up and experienced, like you. And he will know that I must have known. I wonder what he will think of me then.

  MORELL No evil, Candida. I hope and trust, no evil.

  CANDIDA [dubiously] That will depend.

  MORELL [bewildered] Depend!

  CANDIDA [looking at him] Yes: it will depend on what happens to him. [He looks vacantly at her.] Don’t you see? It will depend on how he comes to learn what love really is. I mean on the sort of woman who will teach it to him.

  MORELL [quite at a loss] Yes. No. I don’t know what you mean.

  CANDIDA [explaining] If he learns it from a good woman, then it will be all right: he will forgive me.

  MORELL Forgive!

  CANDIDA But suppose he learns it from a bad woman, as so many men do, especially poetic men, who imagine all women are angels! Suppose he only discovers the value of love when he has thrown it away and degraded himself in his ignorance. Will he forgive me then, do you think?

  MORELL Forgive you for what?

  CANDIDA [realizing how stupid he is, and a little disappointed, though quite tenderly so] Don’t you understand? [He shakes his head. She turns to him again, so as to explain with the fondest intimacy.] I mean, will he forgive me for not teaching him myself? For abandoning him to the bad women for the sake of my goodness-my purity, as you call it? Ah, James, how little you understand me, to talk of your confidence in my goodness and purity! I would give them both to poor Eugene as willingly as I would give my shawl to a beggar dying of cold, if there were nothing else to restrain me. Put your trust in my love for you, James, for if that went, I should care very little for your sermons-mere phrases that you cheat yourself and others with every day. [She is about to rise. ]

  MORELL H i s words!

  CANDIDA [checking herself quickly in the act of getting up, so that she is on her knees, but upright] Whose words?

  MORELL Eugene’s.

  CANDIDA [delighted] He is always right. He understands you; he understands me; he understands Prossy; and you, James-you understand nothing. [She laughs, and kisses him to console him. He recoils as if stung, and springs up. ]

  MORELL How can you bear to do that when-oh, Candida [with anguish in his voice] I had rather you had plunged a grappling iron into my heart than given me that kiss.

  CANDIDA [rising, alarmed] My dear: what’s the matter?

  MORELL [frantically waving her off] Don’t touch me.

  CANDIDA [amazed] James!

  [They are interrupted by the entrance of MARCHBANKS, with BURGESS, who stops near the door, staring, whilst EUGENE hurries forward between them.]

  MARCHBANKS Is anything the matter?

  MORELL [deadly white, putting an iron constraint on himself] Nothing but this: that either you were right this morning, or Candida is mad.

  BURGESS [in loudest protest] Wot! Candy mad too! Oh, come, come, come! [He crosses the room to the fireplace, protesting as he goes
, and knocks the ashes out of his pipe on the bars. MORELL sits down desperately, leaning forward to hide his face, and interlacing his fingers rigidly to keep them steady.]

  CANDIDA [to MORELL, relieved and laughing] Oh, you’re only shocked! Is that all? How conventional all you unconventional people are!

  BURGESS Come: be‘ave yourself, Candy. What’ll Mr. Morchbanks think of you?

  CANDIDA This comes of James teaching me to think for myself, and never to hold back out of fear of what other people may think of me. It works beautifully as long as I think the same things as he does. But now, because I have just thought something different!—look at him—just look! [She points to MORELL, greatly amused. EUGENE looks, and instantly presses his hand on his heart, as if some deadly pain had shot through it, and sits down on the sofa like a man witnessing a tragedy.]

  BURGESS [on the hearth-rug] Well, James, you certainly ain’t as himpressive lookin’ as usu‘l.

  MORELL [with a laugh which is half a sob] I suppose not. I beg all your pardons: I was not conscious of making a fuss. [Pulling himself together.] Well, well, well, well, well! [He goes back to his place at the table, setting to work at his papers again with resolute cheerfulness. ]

  CANDIDA [going to the sofa and sitting beside MARCHBANKS, still in a bantering humor] Well, Eugene, why are you so sad? Did the onions make you cry?

  [MORELL cannot prevent himself from watching them.]

  MARCHBANKS [aside to her] It is your cruelty. I hate cruelty. It is a horrible thing to see one person make another suffer.

  CANDIDA [petting him ironically] Poor boy, have I been cruel? Did I make it slice nasty little red onions?

  MARCHBANKS [earnestly] Oh, stop, stop: I don’t mean myself. You have made him suffer frightfully. I feel his pain in my own heart. I know that it is not your fault—it is something that must happen; but don’t make light of it. I shudder when you torture him and laugh.

  CANDIDA (incredulously] I torture James! Nonsense, Eugene: how you exaggerate! Silly! [She looks round at MORELL, who hastily resumes his writing. She goes to him and stands behind his chair, bending over him.] Don’t work any more, dear. Come and talk to us.

  MORELL [affectionately but bitterly] Ah no: I can’t talk. I can only preach.

  CANDIDA [caressing him] Well, come and preach.

  BURGESS [strongly remonstrating] Aw, no, Candy. ‘Ang it all! [LEXY MILL comes in, looking anxious and important.]

  LEXY [hastening to shake hands with CANDIDA] How do you do, Mrs. Morell? So glad to see you back again.

  CANDIDA Thank you, Lexy. You know Eugene, don’t you?

  LEXY Oh, yes. How do you do, Marchbanks?

  MARCHBANKS Quite well, thanks.

  LEXY [to MORELL] I’ve just come from the Guild of St. Matthew. They are in the greatest consternation about your telegram. There’s nothing wrong, is there?

  CANDIDA What did you telegraph about, James?

  LEXY [to CANDIDA] He was to have spoken for them tonight. They’ve taken the large hall in Mare Street and spent a lot of money on posters. Morell’s telegram was to say he couldn’t come. It came on them like a thunderbolt.

  CANDIDA [surprized, and beginning to suspect something wrong] Given up an engagement to speak!

  BURGESS First time in his life, I’ll bet. Ain’ it, Candy?

  LEXY [to MORELL] They decided to send an urgent telegram to you asking whether you could not change your mind. Have you received it?

  MORELL [with restrained impatience] Yes, yes: I got it.

  LEXY It was reply paid.

  MORELL Yes, I know. I answered it. I can’t go.

  CANDIDA But why, James?

  MORELL [almost fiercely] Because I don’t choose. These people forget that I am a man: they think I am a talking machine to be turned on for their pleasure every evening of my life. May I not have one night at home, with my wife, and my friends? [They are all amazed at this outburst, except EUGENE. His expression remains unchanged.]

  CANDIDA Oh, James, you know you’ll have an attack of bad conscience to-morrow; and I shall have to suffer for that.

  LEXY [intimidated, but urgent] I know, of course, that they make the most unreasonable demands on you. But they have been telegraphing all over the place for another speaker: and they can get nobody but the President of the Agnostic League.

  MORELL [promptly] Well, an excellent man. What better do they want?

  LEXY But he always insists so powerfully on the divorce of Socialism from Christianity. He will undo all the good we have been doing. Of course you know best; but-[He hesitates.]

  CANDIDA [coaxingly] Oh, d o go, James. We’ll all go.

  BURGESS [grumbling] Look ‘ere, Candy! I say! Let’s stay at home by the fire, comfortable. He won’t need to be more’n a couple-o’ -hour away.

  CANDIDA You’ll be just as comfortable at the meeting. We’ll all sit on the platform and be great people.

  EUGENE [terrified] Oh, please don’t let us go on the platform. No—everyone will stare at us—I couldn’t. I’ll sit at the back of the room.

  CANDIDA Don’t be afraid. They’ll be too busy looking at James to notice you.

  MORELL [turning his head and looking meaningly at her over his shoulder] Prossy’s complaint, Candida! Eh?

  CANDIDA [gaily] Yes.

  BURGESS [mystified] Prossy’s complaint. Wot are you talking about, James?

  MORELL [not heeding him, rises; goes to the door; and holds it open, shouting in a commanding voice] Miss Garnett.

  PROSERPINE [in the distance] Yes, Mr. Morell. Coming. [They all wait, except BURGESS, who goes stealthily to LEXY and draws him aside.]

  BURGESS Listen here, Mr. Mill. Wot’s Prossy’s complaint? Wot’s wrong with er?

  LEXY [confidentially] Well, I don’t exactly know; but she spoke very strangely to me this morning. I’m afraid she’s a little out of her mind sometimes.

  BURGESS [overwhelmed] Why, it must be catchin‘! Four in the same ’ouse! [He goes back to the hearth, quite lost before the instability of the human intellect in a clergyman’s house.]

  PROSERPINE [appearing on the threshold] What is it, Mr. Morell?

  MORELL Telegraph to the Guild of St. Matthew that I am coming.

  PROSERPINE [surprised] Don’t they expect you?

  MORELL [peremptorily] Do as I tell you. [PROSERPINE frightened, sits down at her typewriter, and obeys. MORELL goes across to BURGESS, CANDIDA watching his movements all the time with growing wonder and misgiving.]

  MORELL Burgess: you don’t want to come?

  BURGESS [in deprecation] Oh, don’t put it like that, James. It’s only that it ain’t Sunday, you know.

  MORELL I’m sorry. I thought you might like to be introduced to the chairman. He’s on the Works Committee of the County Council and has some influence in the matter of contracts. [BURGESS wakes up at once. MORELL, expecting as much, waits a moment, and says] Will you come?

  BURGESS [with enthusiasm] Course I’ll come, James. Ain’ it always a pleasure to ‘ear you.

  MORELL [turning from him] I shall want you to take some notes at the meeting, Miss Garnett, if you have no other engagement. [She nods, afraid to speak.] You are coming, Lexy, I suppose.

  LEXY Certainly.

  CANDIDA We are all coming, James.

  MORELL No: you are not coming; and Eugene is not coming. You will stay here and entertain him—to celebrate your return home. [EUGENE rises, breathless.]

  CANDIDA But James—

  MORELL [authoritatively] I insist. You do not want to come; and he does not want to come. [CANDIDA is about to protest.] Oh, don’t concern yourselves: I shall have plenty of people without you: your chairs will be wanted by unconverted people who have never heard me before.

  CANDIDA [troubled] Eugene: wouldn’t you like to come?

  MORELL I should be afraid to let myself go before Eugene: he is so critical of sermons. [Looking at him.] He knows I am afraid of him: he told me as much this morning. Well, I shall shew him how much afraid I am b
y leaving him here in your custody, Candida.

  MARCHBANKS [to himself with vivid feeling] That’s brave. That’s beautiful. [He sits down again listening with parted lips.]

  CANDIDA [with anxious misgiving] But—but—Is anything the matter, James? [Greatly troubled.] I can’t understand—

  MORELL Ah, I thought it was I who couldn’t understand, dear. [He takes her tenderly in his arms and kisses her on the forehead; then looks round quietly at MARCHBANKS.]

  ACT III

  Late in the evening. Past ten. The curtains are drawn, and the lamps lighted. The typewriter is in its case; the large table has been cleared and tidied; everything indicates that the day’s work is done.

  CANDIDA and MARCHBANKS are seated at the fire. The reading lamp is on the mantelshelf above MARCHBANKS, who is sitting on the small chair reading aloud from a manuscript. A little pile of manuscripts and a couple of volumes of poetry are on the carpet beside him. CANDIDA is in the easy chair with the poker, a light brass one, upright in her hand. She is leaning back and looking at the point of it curiously, with her feet stretched towards the blaze and her heels resting on the fender, profoundly unconscious of her appearance and surroundings.

  MARCHBANKS [breaking off in his recitation] Every poet that ever lived has put that thought into a sonnet. He must: he can’t help it. [He looks to her for assent, and notices her absorption in the poker.] Haven’t you been listening? [No response.] Mrs. Morell!

  CANDIDA [starting] Eh?

  MARCHBANKS Haven’t you been listening?

  CANDIDA [with a guilty excess of politeness] Oh, yes. It’s very nice. Go on, Eugene. I’m longing to hear what happens to the angel.

  MARCHBANKS [crushed-the manuscript dropping from his hand to the floor] I beg your pardon for boring you.

  CANDIDA But you are not boring me, I assure you. Pleasego on. Do, Eugene.

  MARCHBANKS I finished the poem about the angel quarter of an hour ago. I’ve read you several things since.

  CANDIDA [remorsefully] I’m so sorry, Eugene. I think the poker must have fascinated me. [She puts it down.]