CANDIDA [amazed, on the threshold] What on earth are you at, Eugene?
MARCHBANKS [oddly] James and I are having a preaching match; and he is getting the worst of it.
Candida looks quickly round at Morell. Seeing that he is distressed, she hurries down to him, greatly vexed.
CANDIDA. You have been annoying him. Now I wont have it, Eugene: do you hear? [She puts her hand on Morell’s shoulder, and quite forgets her wifely tact in her anger]. My boy shall not be worried: I will protect him.
MORELL [rising proudly] Protect!
CANDIDA [not heeding him: to Eugene] What have you been saying?
MARCHBANKS [appalled] Nothing. I –
CANDIDA. Eugene! Nothing?
MARCHBANKS [piteously] I mean – I – I’m very sorry. I wont do it again: indeed I wont. I’ll let him alone.
MORELL [indignantly, with an aggressive movement towards Eugene] Let me alone! You young –
CANDIDA [stopping him] Sh! – no: let me deal with him, James.
MARCHBANKS. Oh, youre not angry with me, are you?
CANDIDA [severely] Yes I am: very angry. I have a good mind to pack you out of the house.
MORELL [taken aback by Candida’s vigor, and by no means relishing the position of being rescued by her from another man] Gently, Candida, gently. I am able to take care of myself.
CANDIDA [petting him] Yes, dear: of course you are. But you musnt be annoyed and made miserable.
MARCHBANKS [almost in tears, turning to the door] I’ll go.
CANDIDA. Oh, you neednt go: I cant turn you out at this time of night. [Vehemently] Shame on you! For shame!
MARCHBANKS [desperately] But what have I done?
CANDIDA. I know what you have done: as well as if I had been here all the time. Oh, it was unworthy! You are like a child: you cannot hold your tongue.
MARCHBANKS. I would die ten times over sooner than give you a moment’s pain.
CANDIDA [with infinite contempt for this puerility] Much good your dying would do me!
MORELL. Candida, my dear: this altercation is hardly quite seemly. It is a matter between two men; and I am the right person to settle it.
CANDIDA. Two men! Do you call that a man! [To Eugene] You bad boy!
MARCHBANKS [gathering a whimsically affectionate courage from the scolding] If I am to be scolded like a boy, I must make a boy’s excuse. He began it. And he’s bigger than I am.
CANDIDA [losing confidence a little as her concern for Morell’s dignity takes the alarm] That cant be true. [To Morell] You didnt begin it, James, did you?
MORELL [contemptuously] No.
MARCHBANKS [indignant] Oh!
MORELL [to Eugene] You began it: this morning. [Candida,instantly connecting this with his mysterious allusion in the afternoon to something told him by Eugene in the morning, looks at him with quick suspicion. Morell proceeds, with the emphasis of offended superiority] But your other point is true. I am certainly the bigger of the two, and, I hope, the stronger, Candida. So you had better leave the matter in my hands.
CANDIDA [again soothing him] Yes, dear; but – [troubled] I dont understand about this morning.
MORELL [gently snubbing her] You need not understand, my dear.
CANDIDA. But James, I [the street bell rings] – Oh bother! Here they all come. [She goes out to let them in].
MARCHBANKS [running to Morell] Oh, Morell, isnt it dreadful? She’s angry with us: she hates me. What shall I do?
MORELL [with quaint desperation, walking up and down the middle of the room] Eugene: my head is spinning round. I shall begin to laugh presently.
MARCHBANKS [following him anxiously] No, no: she’ll think Ive thrown you into hysterics. Dont laugh.
Boisterous voices and laughter are heard approaching. Lexy Mill, his eyes sparkling, and his bearing denoting unwonted elevation of spirit, enters with Burgess, who is greasy and self-complacent, but has all his wits about him. Miss Garnett, with her smartest hat and jacket on, follows them; but though her eyes are brighter than before, she is evidently a prey to misgiving. She places herself with her back to her typewriting table, with one hand on it to steady herself, passing the other across her forehead as if she were a little tired and giddy. Marchbanks relapses into shyness and edges away into the corner near the window, where Morell’s books are.
LEXY [exhilarated] Morell: I must congratulate you. [Grasping his hand] What a noble, splendid, inspired address you gave us! You surpassed yourself.
BURGESS. So you did, James. It fair kep me awake to the lars’ word. Didnt it, Miss Gornett?
PROSERPINE [worriedly] Oh, I wasnt minding you: I was trying to make notes. [She takes out her note-book, and looks at her stenography, which nearly makes her cry].
MORELL. Did I go too fast, Pross?
PROSERPINE. Much too fast. You know I cant do more than ninety words a minute. [She relieves her feelings by throwing her note-book angrily beside her machine, ready for use next morning].
MORELL [soothingly] Oh well, well, never mind, never mind, never mind. Have you all had supper?
LEXY. Mr Burgess has been kind enough to give us a really splendid supper at the Belgrave.
BURGESS [with effusive magnanimity] Dont mention it, Mr Mill. [Modestly] Youre arty welcome to my little treat.
PROSERPINE. We had champagne. I never tasted it before. I feel quite giddy.
MORELL [surprised] A champagne supper! That was very handsome. Was it my eloquence that produced all this extravagance?
LEXY [rhetorically] Your eloquence, and Mr Burgess’s goodness of heart. [With afresh burst of exhilaration] And what a very fine fellow the chairman is, Morell! He came to supper with us.
MORELL [with long drawn significance, looking at Burgess] O-o-o-h! the chairman. Now I understand.
Burgess covers with a deprecatory cough a lively satisfaction with his own diplomatic cunning. Lexy folds his arms and leans against the head of the sofa in a high-spirited attitude after nearly losing his balance. Candida comes in with glasses, lemons, and a jug of hot water on a tray.
CANDIDA. Who will have some lemonade? You know our rules: total abstinence. [She puts the tray on the table, and takes up the lemon squeezer, looking enquiringly round at them].
MORELL. No use, dear. Theyve all had champagne. Pross has broken her pledge.
CANDIDA [to Proserpine] You dont mean to say youve been drinking champagne!
PROSERPINE [stubbornly] Yes I do. I’m only a beer teetotaller, not a champagne teetotaller. I dont like beer. Are there any letters for me to answer, Mr Morell?
MORELL. NO more tonight.
PROSERPINE. Very well. Goodnight, everybody.
LEXY [gallantly] Had I not better see you home, Miss Garnett?
PROSERPINE. NO thank you. I shant trust myself with anybody tonight. I wish I hadnt taken any of that stuff. [She takes uncertain aim at the door; dashes at it; and barely escapes without disaster].
BURGESS [indignantly] Stuff indeed! That gurl dunno what champagne is! Pommery and Greeno at twelve and six a bottle. She took two glasses amost straight horff.
MORELL [anxious about her] Go and look after her, Lexy.
LEXY [alarmed] But if she should really be – Suppose she began to sing in the street, or anything of that sort.
MORELL. Just so: she may. Thats why youd better see her safely home.
CANDIDA. Do, Lexy: theres a good fellow. [She shakes his hand and pushes him gently to the door].
LEXY. It’s evidently my duty to go. I hope it may not be necessary. Goodnight, Mrs Morell. [To the rest] Goodnight. [He goes, Candida shuts the door].
BURGESS. He was gushin with hextra piety hisself arter two sips. People carnt drink like they huseter. [Bustling across to the hearth] Well, James: it’s time to lock up. Mr Morchbanks: shall I ave the pleasure of your company for a bit o the way ome?
MARCHBANKS [affrightedly] Yes: I’d better go. [He hurries towards the door; but Candida places herself before it, barring his way].
&nb
sp; CANDIDA [with quiet authority] You sit down. Youre not going yet.
MARCHBANKS [quailing] No: I – I didnt mean to. [He sits down abjectly on the sofa].
CANDIDA. Mr Marchbanks will stay the night with us, papa.
BURGESS. Oh well, I’ll say goodnight. So long, James. [He shakes hands with Morell, and goes over to Eugene]. Make em give you a nightlight by your bed, Mr Morchbanks: itll comfort you if you wake up in the night with a touch of that complaint of yores. Goodnight.
MARCHBANKS. Thank you: I will. Goodnight, Mr Burgess. [They shake hands. Burgess goes to the door].
CANDIDA [intercepting Morell, who is following Burgess] Stay here, dear: I’ll put on papa’s coat for him. [She goes out with Burgess].
MARCHBANKS [rising and stealing over to Morell] Morell: theres going to be a terrible scene. Arnt you afraid?
MORELL. Not in the least.
MARCHBANKS. I never envied you your courage before. [He puts his hand appealingly on Morell’s forearm]. Stand by me, wont you?
MORELL [casting him off resolutely] Each for himself, Eugene. She must choose between us now.
Candida returns, Eugene creeps back to the sofa like a guilty schoolboy.
CANDIDA [between them, addressing Eugene] Are you sorry?
MARCHBANKS [earnestly] Yes. Heartbroken.
CANDIDA. Well, then, you are forgiven. Now go off to bed like a good little boy: I want to talk to James about you.
MARCHBANKS [rising in great consternation] Oh, I cant do that, Morell. I must be here. I’ll not go away. Tell her.
CANDIDA [her suspicions confirmed] Tell me what? [His eyes avoid hers furtively. She turns and mutely transfers the question to Morell].
MORELL [bracing himself for the catastrophe] I have nothing to tell her, except [here his voice deepens to a measured and mournful tenderness] that she is my greatest treasure on earth – if she is really mine.
CANDIDA [coldly, offended by his yielding to his orator’s instinct and treating her as if she were the audience at the Guild of St Matthew] I am sure Eugene can say no less, if that is all.
MARCHBANKS [discouraged] Morell: she’s laughing at us.
MORELL [with a quick touch of temper] There is nothing to laugh at. Are you laughing at us, Candida?
CANDIDA [with quiet anger] Eugene is very quick-witted, James. I hope I am going to laugh; but I am not sure that I am not going to be very angry. [She goes to the fireplace, and stands there leaning with her arm on the mantelpiece, and her foot on the fender, whilst Eugene steals to Morell and plucks him by the sleeve].
MARCHBANKS [whispering] Stop, Morell. Dont let us say anything.
MORELL [pushing Eugene away without deigning to look at him] I hope you dont mean that as a threat, Candida.
CANDIDA [with emphatic warning] Take care, James. Eugene: I asked you to go. Are you going?
MORELL [putting his foot down] He shall not go. I wish him to remain.
MARCHBANKS. I’ll go. I’ll do whatever you want. [He turns to the door].
CANDIDA. Stop! [He obeys]. Didnt you hear James say he wished you to stay? James is master here. Dont you know that?
MARCHBANKS [flushing with a young poet’s rage against tyranny] By what right is he master?
CANDIDA [quietly] Tell him, James.
MORELL [taken aback] My dear: I dont know of any right that makes me master. I assert no such right.
CANDIDA [with infinite reproach] You dont know! Oh, James! James! [To Eugene, musingly] I wonder do you understand, Eugene! [He shakes his head helplessly, not daring to look at her]. No: youre too young. Well, I give you leave to stay: to stay and learn. [She comes away from the hearth and places herself between them]. Now, James! whats the matter? Come: tell me.
MARCHBANKS [whispering tremulously across to him] Dont.
CANDIDA. Come. Out with it!
MORELL [slowly] I meant to prepare your mind carefully, Candida, so as to prevent misunderstanding.
CANDIDA. Yes, dear: I am sure you did. But never mind: I shant misunderstand.
MORELL. Well – er – [he hesitates, unable to find the long explanation which he supposed to be available].
CANDIDA. Well?
MORELL [blurting it out baldly] Eugene declares that you are in love with him.
MARCHBANKS [frantically] No, no, no, no, never. I did not, Mrs Morell: it’s not true. I said I loved you. I said I understood you, and that he couldnt. And it was not after what passed there before the fire that I spoke: it was not, on my word. It was this morning.
CANDIDA [enlightened] This morning!
MARCHBANKS. Yes. [He looks at her, pleading for credence, and then adds simply] That was what was the matter with my collar.
CANDIDA. Your collar? [Suddenly taking in his meaning she turns to Morell, shocked]. Oh, James: did you – [she stops] ?
MORELL [ashamed] You know, Candida, that I have a temper to struggle with. And he said [shuddering] that you despised me in your heart.
CANDIDA [turning quickly on Eugene] Did you say that?
MARCHBANKS [terrified] No.
CANDIDA [almost fiercely] Then James has just told me a falsehood. Is that what you mean?
MARCHBANKS. No, no: I – I – [desperately] it was David’s wife. And it wasnt at home: it was when she saw him dancing before all the people.
MORELL [taking the cue with a debater’s adroitness] Dancing before all the people, Candida; and thinking he was moving their hearts by his mission when they were only suffering from – Prossy’s complaint. [She is about to protest: he raises his hand to silence her], Dont try to look indignant, Candida –
CANDIDA. Try!
MORELL [continuing] Eugene was right. As you told me a few hours after, he is always right. He said nothing that you did not say far better yourself. He is the poet, who sees everything; and I am the poor parson, who understands nothing.
CANDIDA [remorsefully] Do you mind what is said by a foolish boy, because I said something like it in jest?
MORELL. That foolish boy can speak with the inspiration of a child and the cunning of a serpent. He has claimed that you belong to him and not to me; and, rightly or wrongly, I have come to fear that it may be true. I will not go about tortured with doubts and suspicions. I will not live with you and keep a secret from you. I will not suffer the intolerable degradation of jealousy. We have agreed – he and I – that you shall choose between us now. I await your decision.
CANDIDA [slowly recoiling a step, her heart hardened by his rhetoric in spite of the sincere feeling behind it] Oh! I am to choose am I? I suppose it is quite settled that I must belong to one or the other.
MORELL [firmly] Quite. You must choose definitely.
MARCHBANKS [anxiously] Morell: you dont understand. She means that she belongs to herself.
CANDIDA [turning to him] I mean that, and a good deal more, Master Eugene, as you will both find out presently. And pray, my lords and masters, what have you to offer for my choice? I am up for auction, it seems. What do you bid, James?
MORELL [reproachfully] Cand – [He breaks down: his eyes and throat fill with tears: the orator becomes a wounded animal]. I cant speak –
CANDIDA [impulsively going to him] Ah, dearest –
MARCHBANKS [in wild alarm] Stop: it’s not fair. You mustnt shew her that you suffer, Morell. I am on the rack too; but I am not crying.
MORELL [rallying all his forces] Yes: you are right. It is not for pity that I am bidding. [He disengages himself from Candida].
CANDIDA [retreating, chilled] I beg your pardon, James: I did not mean to touch you. I am waiting to hear your bid.
MORELL [with great humility] I have nothing to offer you but my strength for your defence, my honesty for your surety, my ability and industry for your livelihood, and my authority and position for your dignity. That is all it becomes a man to offer to a woman.
CANDIDA [quite quietly] And you, Eugene? What do you offer?
MARCHBANKS. My weakness. My desolation. My heart’s need.
CANDIDA [impressed] Thats a good bid, Eugene. Now I know how to make my choice.
She pauses and looks curiously from one to the other, as if weighing them. Morell, whose lofty confidence has changed into heart-breaking dread at Eugene’s bid, loses all power of concealing his anxiety. Eugene, strung to the highest tension, does not move a muscle.
MORELL [in a suffocated voice: the appeal bursting from the depths of his anguish] Candida!
MARCHBANKS [aside, in a flash of contempt] Coward!
CANDIDA [significantly] I give myself to the weaker of the two.
Eugene divines her meaning at once: his face whitens like steel in a furnace.
MORELL [bowing his head with the calm of collapse] I accept your sentence, Candida.
CANDIDA. DO you understand, Eugene?
MARCHBANKS. Oh, I feel I’m lost. He cannot bear the burden.
MORELL [incredulously, raising his head and voice with comic abruptness] Do you mean me, Candida?
CANDIDA [smiling a little] Let us sit and talk comfortably over it like three friends. [To Morell] Sit down, dear. [Morell, quite lost, takes the chair from the fireside: the children’s chair]. Bring me that chair, Eugene. [She indicates the easy chair. He fetches it silently, even with something like cold strength, and places it next Morell, a little behind him. She sits down. He takes the visitor’s chair himself, and sits, inscrutable. When they are all settled she begins, throwing a spell of quietness on them by her calm, sane, tender tone]. You remember what you told me about yourself, Eugene: how nobody has cared for you since your old nurse died: how those clever fashionable sisters and successful brothers of yours were your mother’s and father’s pets: how miserable you were at Eton: how your father is trying to starve you into returning to Oxford: how you have had to live without comfort or welcome or refuge: always lonely, and nearly always disliked and misunderstood, poor boy!
MARCHBANKS [faithful to the nobility of his lot] I had my books. I had Nature. And at last I met you.
CANDIDA. Never mind that just at present. Now I want you to look at this other boy here: my boy! spoiled from his cradle. We go once a fortnight to see his parents. You should come with us, Eugene, to see the pictures of the hero of that household. James as a baby! the most wonderful of all babies. James holding his first school prize, won at the ripe age of eight! James as the captain of his eleven! James in his first frock coat! James under all sorts of glorious circumstances! You know how strong he is (I hope he didnt hurt you): how clever he is: how happy. [With deepening gravity] Ask James’s mother and his three sisters what it cost to save James the trouble of doing anything but be strong and clever and happy. Ask me what it costs to be James’s mother and three sisters and wife and mother to his children all in one. Ask Prossy and Maria how troublesome the house is even when we have no visitors to help us to slice the onions. Ask the tradesmen who want to worry James and spoil his beautiful sermons who it is that puts them off. When there is money to give, he gives it: when there is money to refuse, I refuse it. I build a castle of comfort and indulgence and love for him, and stand sentinel always to keep little vulgar cares out. I make him master here, though he does not know it, and could not tell you a moment ago how it came to be so. [With sweet irony] And when he thought I might go away with you, his only anxiety was – what should become of me! And to tempt me to stay he offered me [leaning forward to stroke his hair caressingly at each phrase] his strength for my defence! his industry for my livelihood! his dignity for my position! his – [relenting] ah, I am mixing up your beautiful cadences and spoiling them, am I not, darling? [She lays her cheek fondly against his].
Plays Pleasant Page 17
