60 Plays: The George Bernard Shaw Edition (Illustrated). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
(ravenously). Oh, give me some tea. (Mrs. Clandon pours out a cup for her.) We’ve been out in a boat. Valentine will be here presently.
PHILIP. He is unaccustomed to navigation. Where’s Gloria?
MRS. CLANDON (anxiously, as she pours out his tea). Phil: there is something the matter with Gloria. Has anything happened? (Phil and Dolly look at one another and stifle a laugh.) What is it?
PHILIP (sitting down on her left). Romeo —
DOLLY (sitting down on her right). — and Juliet.
PHILIP (taking his cup of tea from Mrs. Clandon). Yes, my dear mother: the old, old story. Dolly: don’t take all the milk. (He deftly takes the jug from her.) Yes: in the spring —
DOLLY. — a young man’s fancy —
PHILIP. — lightly turns to — thank you (to Mrs. Clandon, who has passed the biscuits) — thoughts of love. It also occurs in the autumn. The young man in this case is —
DOLLY. Valentine.
PHILIP. And his fancy has turned to Gloria to the extent of —
DOLLY. — kissing her —
PHILIP. — on the terrace —
DOLLY (correcting him). — on the lips, before everybody.
MRS. CLANDON (incredulously). Phil! Dolly! Are you joking? (They shake their heads.) Did she allow it?
PHILIP. We waited to see him struck to earth by the lightning of her scorn; —
DOLLY. — but he wasn’t.
PHILIP. She appeared to like it.
DOLLY. As far as we could judge. (Stopping Phil, who is about to pour out another cup.) No: you’ve sworn off two cups.
MRS. CLANDON (much troubled). Children: you must not be here when Mr. Valentine comes. I must speak very seriously to him about this.
PHILIP. To ask him his intentions? What a violation of Twentieth Century principles!
DOLLY. Quite right, mamma: bring him to book. Make the most of the nineteenth century while it lasts.
PHILIP. Sh! Here he is. (Valentine comes in.)
VALENTINE Very sorry to be late for tea, Mrs. Clandon. (She takes up the tea-pot.) No, thank you: I never take any. No doubt Miss Dolly and Phil have explained what happened to me.
PHILIP (momentously rising). Yes, Valentine: we have explained.
DOLLY (significantly, also rising). We have explained very thoroughly.
PHILIP. It was our duty. (Very seriously.) Come, Dolly. (He offers Dolly his arm, which she takes. They look sadly at him, and go out gravely, arm in arm. Valentine stares after them, puzzled; then looks at Mrs. Clandon for an explanation.)
MRS. CLANDON (rising and leaving the tea table). Will you sit down, Mr. Valentine. I want to speak to you a little, if you will allow me. (Valentine sits down slowly on the ottoman, his conscience presaging a bad quarter of an hour. Mrs. Clandon takes Phil’s chair, and seats herself deliberately at a convenient distance from him.) I must begin by throwing myself somewhat at your consideration. I am going to speak of a subject of which I know very little — perhaps nothing. I mean love.
VALENTINE. Love!
MRS. CLANDON. Yes, love. Oh, you need not look so alarmed as that, Mr. Valentine: I am not in love with you.
VALENTINE (overwhelmed). Oh, really, Mrs. — (Recovering himself.) I should be only too proud if you were.
MRS. CLANDON. Thank you, Mr. Valentine. But I am too old to begin.
VALENTINE. Begin! Have you never — ?
MRS. CLANDON. Never. My case is a very common one, Mr. Valentine. I married before I was old enough to know what I was doing. As you have seen for yourself, the result was a bitter disappointment for both my husband and myself. So you see, though I am a married woman, I have never been in love; I have never had a love affair; and to be quite frank with you, Mr. Valentine, what I have seen of the love affairs of other people has not led me to regret that deficiency in my experience. (Valentine, looking very glum, glances sceptically at her, and says nothing. Her color rises a little; and she adds, with restrained anger) You do not believe me?
VALENTINE (confused at having his thought read). Oh, why not? Why not?
MRS. CLANDON. Let me tell you, Mr. Valentine, that a life devoted to the Cause of Humanity has enthusiasms and passions to offer which far transcend the selfish personal infatuations and sentimentalities of romance. Those are not your enthusiasms and passions, I take it? (Valentine, quite aware that she despises him for it, answers in the negative with a melancholy shake of the head.) I thought not. Well, I am equally at a disadvantage in discussing those so-called affairs of the heart in which you appear to be an expert.
VALENTINE (restlessly). What are you driving at, Mrs. Clandon?
MRS. CLANDON. I think you know.
VALENTINE. Gloria?
MRS. CLANDON. Yes. Gloria.
VALENTINE (surrendering). Well, yes: I’m in love with Gloria. (Interposing as she is about to speak.) I know what you’re going to say: I’ve no money.
MRS. CLANDON. I care very little about money, Mr. Valentine.
VALENTINE. Then you’re very different to all the other mothers who have interviewed me.
MRS. CLANDON. Ah, now we are coming to it, Mr. Valentine. You are an old hand at this. (He opens his mouth to protest: she cuts him short with some indignation.) Oh, do you think, little as I understand these matters, that I have not common sense enough to know that a man who could make as much way in one interview with such a woman as my daughter, can hardly be a novice!
VALENTINE. I assure you —
MRS. CLANDON (stopping him). I am not blaming you, Mr. Valentine. It is Gloria’s business to take care of herself; and you have a right to amuse yourself as you please. But —
VALENTINE (protesting). Amuse myself! Oh, Mrs. Clandon!
MRS. CLANDON (relentlessly). On your honor, Mr. Valentine, are you in earnest?
VALENTINE (desperately). On my honor I am in earnest. (She looks searchingly at him. His sense of humor gets the better of him; and he adds quaintly) Only, I always have been in earnest; and yet — here I am, you see!
MRS. CLANDON. This is just what I suspected. (Severely.) Mr. Valentine: you are one of those men who play with women’s affections.
VALENTINE. Well, why not, if the Cause of Humanity is the only thing worth being serious about? However, I understand. (Rising and taking his hat with formal politeness.) You wish me to discontinue my visits.
MRS. CLANDON. No: I am sensible enough to be well aware that Gloria’s best chance of escape from you now is to become better acquainted with you.
VALENTINE (unaffectedly alarmed). Oh, don’t say that, Mrs. Clandon. You don’t think that, do you?
MRS. CLANDON. I have great faith, Mr. Valentine, in the sound training Gloria’s mind has had since she was a child.
VALENTINE (amazingly relieved). O-oh! Oh, that’s all right. (He sits down again and throws his hat flippantly aside with the air of a man who has no longer anything to fear.)
MRS. CLANDON (indignant at his assurance). What do you mean?
VALENTINE (turning confidentially to her). Come: shall I teach you something, Mrs. Clandon?
MRS. CLANDON (stiffly). I am always willing to learn.
VALENTINE. Have you ever studied the subject of gunnery — artillery — cannons and warships and so on?
MRS. CLANDON. Has gunnery anything to do with Gloria?
VALENTINE. A great deal — by way