60 Plays: The George Bernard Shaw Edition (Illustrated). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
at the two men. Sartorius shuts the door with an angry stroke, and turns to Trench.]
SARTORIUS [aggressively] Sir —
TRENCH [interrupting him more aggressively] Well, sir?
COKANE [getting between them] Gently, dear boy, gently. Suavity, Harry, suavity.
SARTORIUS [mastering himself] If you have anything to say to me, Dr Trench, I will listen to you patiently. You will then allow me to say what I have to say on my part.
TRENCH [ashamed] I beg your pardon. Of course, yes. Fire away.
SARTORIUS May I take it that you have refused to fulfil your engagement with my daughter?
TRENCH Certainly not: your daughter has refused to fulfil her engagement with me. But the match is broken off, if thats what you mean.
SARTORIUS Dr Trench: I will be plain with you. I know that Blanche has a quick temper. It is part of her strong character and her physical courage, which is greater than that of most men, I can assure you. You must be prepared for that. If this quarrel is only Blanche’s temper, you may take my word for it that it will be over before tomorrow. But I understood from what she said just now that you have made some difficulty on the score of money.
TRENCH [with renewed excitement] It was Miss Sartorius who made the difficulty. I shouldnt have minded that so much, if it hadnt been for the things she said. She shewed that she doesnt care that [snapping his fingers] for me.
COKANE [soothingly] Dear boy —
TRENCH Hold your tongue, Billy: it’s enough to make a man wish he’d never seen a woman. Look here, Mr Sartorius: I put the matter to her as delicately and considerately as possible, never mentioning a word of my reasons, but just asking her to be content to live on my own little income; and yet she turned on me as if I’d behaved like a savage.
SARTORIUS Live on your income! Impossible: My daughter is accustomed to a proper establishment. Did I not expressly undertake to provide for that? Did she not tell you I promised her to do so?
TRENCH Yes, I know all about that, Mr Sartorius; and I’m greatly obliged to you; but I’d rather not take anything from you except Blanche herself.
SARTORIUS And why did you not say so before?
TRENCH No matter why. Let us drop the subject.
SARTORIUS No matter! But it does matter, sir. I insist on an answer. Why did you not say so before?
TRENCH I didnt know before.
SARTORIUS [provoked] Then you ought to have known your own mind before entering into such a very serious engagement. [He flings angrily away across the room and back.]
TRENCH [much injured] I ought to have known! Cokane: is this reasonable? [Cokane’s features are contorted by an air of judicial consideration; but he says nothing; and Trench again addresses Sartorius, this time with a marked diminution of respect]. How the deuce could I have known? You didnt tell me.
SARTORIUS You are trifling with me, sir. You say that you did not know your own mind before.
TRENCH I say nothing of the sort. I say that I did not know where your money came from before.
SARTORIUS That is not true, sir. I —
COKANE Gently, my dear sir. Gently, Harry, dear boy. Suaviter in modo: fort —
TRENCH Let him begin, then. What does he mean by attacking me in this fashion?
SARTORIUS Mr Cokane: you will bear me out. I was explicit on the point. I said I was a self-made man; and I am not ashamed of it.
TRENCH You are nothing of the sort. I found out this morning from your man Lickcheese, or whatever his confounded name is that your fortune has been made out of a parcel of unfortunate creatures that have hardly enough to keep body and soul together made by screwing, and bullying, and driving, and all sorts of pettifogging tyranny.
SARTORIUS [outraged] Sir! [They confront one another threateningly.]
COKANE [softly] Rent must be paid, dear boy. It is inevitable, Harry, inevitable.
[Trench turns away petulantly. Sartorius looks after him reflectively for a moment; then resumes his former deliberate and dignified manner, and addresses Trench with studied consideration, but with a perceptible condescension to his youth and folly.]
SARTORIUS I am afraid, Dr Trench, that you are a very young hand at business; and I am sorry I forgot that for a moment or so. May I ask you to suspend your judgment until we have a little quiet discussion of this sentimental notion of yours? if you will excuse me for calling it so. [He takes a chair, and motions Trench to another on his right.]
COKANE Very nicely put, my dear sir. Come, Harry: sit down and listen; and consider the matter calmly and judicially. Dont be headstrong.
TRENCH I have no objection to sit down and listen; but I dont see how that can make black white; and I am tired of being turned on as if I were in the wrong. [He sits down. Cokane sits at his elbow, on his right. They compose themselves for a conference.]
SARTORIUS I assume, to begin with, Dr Trench, that you are not a Socialist, or anything of that sort.
TRENCH Certainly not. I’m a Conservative — at least, if I ever took the trouble to vote, I should vote for the Conservative and against the other fellow.
COKANE True blue, Harry, true blue!
SARTORIUS I am glad to find that so far we are in perfect sympathy. I am, of course, a Conservative; not a narrow or prejudiced one, I hope, nor at all opposed to true progress, but still a sound Conservative. As to Lickcheese, I need say no more about him than that I have dismissed him from my service this morning for a breach of trust; and you will hardly accept his testimony as friendly or disinterested. As to my business, it is simply to provide homes suited to the small means of very poor people, who require roofs to shelter them just like other people. Do you suppose I can keep up those roofs for nothing?
TRENCH Yes: thats all very fine; but the point is, what sort of homes do you give them for their money? People must live somewhere, or else go to jail. Advantage is taken of that to make them pay for houses that are not fit for dogs. Why dont you build proper dwellings, and give fair value for the money you take?
SARTORIUS [pitying his innocence] My young friend: These poor people do not know how to live in proper dwellings: they would wreck them in a week. You doubt me: Try it for yourself. You are welcome to replace all the missing bannisters, handrails, cistern lids and dusthole tops at your own expense; and you will find them missing again in less than three days burnt, sir, every stick of them. I do not blame the poor creatures: They need fires, and often have no other way of getting them. But I really cannot spend pound after pound in repairs for them to pull down, when I can barely get them to pay me four and sixpence a week for a room, which is the recognized fair London rent. No, gentlemen: When people are very poor, you cannot help them, no matter how much you may sympathize with them. It does them more harm than good in the long run. I prefer to save my money in order to provide additional houses for the homeless, and to lay by a little for Blanche. [He looks at them. They are silent: Trench unconvinced, but talked down; Cokane humanely perplexed. Sartorius bends his brows; comes forward in his chair as if gathering himself together for a spring; and addresses himself, with impressive significance, to Trench.] And now, Dr Trench, may I ask what your income is derived from?
TRENCH {defiantly] From interest not from houses. My hands are clean as far as that goes. Interest on a mortgage.
SARTORIUS [forcibly] Yes: a mortgage on my property. When I, to use your own words, screw, and bully, and drive these people to pay what they have freely undertaken to pay me, I cannot touch one penny of the money they give me until I have first paid you your £700 out of it. What Lickcheese did for me, I do for you. He and I are alike intermediaries: you are the principal. It is because of the risks I run through the poverty of my tenants that you exact interest from me at the monstrous and exorbitant rate of seven per cent, forcing me to exact the uttermost farthing in my turn from the tenants. And yet, Dr Trench, you have not hesitated