East of Suez: A Play in Seven Scenes. Maugham William Somerset
rid of me.
Harry. I dote on your company, but I feel that I mustn't be selfish.
Knox. [Pulling his leg.] To tell you the truth I don't feel very fit to-day.
Harry. A little bilious, I dare say. Half a dozen hard sets are just what you want. [He hands Knox his coat.]
Knox. What is this?
Harry. Your coat.
Knox. You're making yourself almost more distressingly plain than nature has already made you.
[Wu comes back and hands Harry a dollar, and then goes out. Harry gives the dollar to the Amah.
Harry. Here's a dollar for you, amah. You go back to missy and tell her it's all right and will she come chop-chop. Sabe?
Amah. My sabe. Goo'-bye.
Knox. God bless you, dearie. It's done me good to see your winsome little face.
Harry. [With a smile.] Shut up, Harold.
[The Amah with nods, smiles and bows, goes out.
Knox. Harry, my poor friend, is it possible that you have an assignation?
Harry. What is possible is that if you don't get out quick I'll throw you out.
Knox. Why didn't you say you were expecting a girl?
Harry. I'm not; I'm expecting a lady.
Knox. Are you sure you know how to behave? If you'd like me to stay and see you don't do the wrong thing I'll chuck my tennis. I'm always ready to sacrifice myself for a friend.
Harry. Has it struck you that the distance from the verandah to the street is very considerable?
Knox. And the pavement is hard. I flatter myself I can take a hint. I wonder where the devil my pin is. I left it on the table.
Harry. I expect Wu put it away.
Knox. It's much more likely that old woman pinched it.
Harry. Oh, nonsense. She wouldn't dream of such a thing. I believe Mrs. Rathbone's had her for ages.
Knox. Who is Mrs. Rathbone?
Harry. [Not wishing to be questioned.] A friend of mine.
[George Conway comes in. He is a tall, dark man in the early thirties. He is a handsome, well-built fellow, of a somewhat rugged appearance, but urbane and self-assured.
George. May I come in?
Harry. [Eagerly, shaking him warmly by the hand.] At last. By Jove, it's good to see you again. You know Knox, don't you?
George. I think so.
Knox. I wash bottles in the B. A. T. I don't expect the legation bloods to be aware of my existence.
George. [With a twinkle in his eye.] I don't know that an Assistant Chinese Secretary is such a blood as all that.
Knox. You've just been down to Fuchow, haven't you?
George. Yes, I only got back this morning.
Knox. Did you see Freddy Baker by any chance?
George. Yes, poor chap.
Knox. Oh, I've got no pity for him. He's just a damned fool.
Harry. Why?
Knox. Haven't you heard? He's married a half-caste.
Harry. What of it? I believe she's a very pretty girl.
Knox. I daresay she is. But hang it all, he needn't have married her.
George. I don't think it was a very wise thing to do.
Harry. I should have thought all those prejudices were out of date. Why shouldn't a man marry a half-caste if he wants to?
Knox. It can't be very nice to have a wife whom even the missionary ladies turn up their noses at.
Harry. [With a shrug of the shoulders.] You wait till Freddy's number one in Hankow and can entertain. I bet the white ladies will be glad enough to know his missus then.
George. Yes, but that's just it. He'll never get a good job with a Eurasian wife.
Harry. He's in Jardine's, isn't he? Do you mean to say it's going to handicap a man in a shipping firm because he's married a woman who's partly Chinese?
George. Of course it is. Jardine's are about the most important firm in China and the manager of one of their principal branches has definite social obligations. Freddy Baker will be sent to twopenny halfpenny outports where his wife doesn't matter.
Knox. I think he's damned lucky if he's not asked to resign.
Harry. It's cruel. His wife may be a charming and cultivated woman.
Knox. Have you ever known a half-caste that was?
Harry. I have.
Knox. Well, I've been in this country for seven years and I've never met one, male or female, that didn't give me the shivers.
Harry. I've no patience with you. You're a perfect damned fool.
Knox. [A little surprised, but quite good-humoured.] You're getting rather excited, aren't you?
Harry. [Hotly.] I hate injustice.
George. Do you think it really is injustice? The English are not an unkindly race. If they've got a down on half-castes there are probably very good grounds for it.
Harry. What are they?
Knox. We don't much like their morals, but we can't stick their manners.
George. Somehow or other they seem to inherit all the bad qualities of the two races from which they spring and none of the good ones. I'm sure there are exceptions, but on the whole the Eurasian is vulgar and noisy. He can't tell the truth if he tries.
Knox. To do him justice, he seldom tries.
George. He's as vain as a peacock. He'll cringe when he's afraid of you and he'll bully when he's not. You can never rely on him. He's crooked from the crown of his German hat to the toes of his American boots.
Knox. Straight from the shoulder. Take the count, old man.
Harry. [Frigidly.] Oughtn't you to be going?
Knox. [Smiling.] No, but I will.
Harry. I'm sorry if I was rude to you just now, old man.
Knox. Silly ass, you've broken no bones; my self-esteem, thank God, is unimpaired. [He goes out.
Harry. I say, I'm awfully glad you're back, George. You can't think how I miss you when you're away.
George. As soon as the shooting starts we'll try and get two or three days together in the country.
Harry. Yes, that would be jolly. [Calling.] Wu.
Wu. [Outside.] Ye'.
Harry. Bring tea for three.
George. Who is the third?
Harry. When you said you could come round I asked somebody I want you very much to meet.
George. Who is that?
Harry. Mrs. Rathbone … I'm going to be married to her and we want you to be our best man.
George. Harry.
Harry. [Boyishly.] I thought you'd be surprised.
George. My dear old boy, I am so glad. I hope you'll be awfully happy.
Harry. I'm awfully happy now.
George. Why have you kept it so dark?
Harry. I didn't want to say anything till it was all settled. Besides, I've only known her six weeks. I met her when I was down in Shanghai…
George. Is she a widow?
Harry. Yes, she was married to an American in the F. M. S.
George. Is she American?
Harry. Only by marriage. I'm afraid she