The Collected Plays of George Bernard Shaw - 60 Titles in One Edition (Illustrated Edition). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
[rising] Signor Rivarez, I am old, and no doubt have not much longer to live. I would go down to my grave without blood on my hands. But Heaven has put upon me the terrible duty of deciding whether you shall live or die. Everything I know of your career seems to me bad and mischievous: but during this last fortnight you have shown that you are a brave man, and that you can be faithful to your friends. You must have in you something better than you show outside. To that better self in you I appeal, and solemnly entreat you, on your conscience, to tell me truthfully: in my place what would you do?
GADFLY [with sudden, violent passion] At least I would decide my own actions for myself, and take the consequences of them. I would not come sneaking to other people, in the cowardly Christian way, asking them to make up my mind for me. We atheists understand that if a man has a thing to bear he must bear it as best he can: if he sinks under it, why, so much the worse for him! But a Christian comes whining to his God, or his Saints; or, if they won’t help him, to his enemies — he can always find a back to shift his burdens on to. Heavens and earth, man, haven’t I enough as it is, without your laying your responsibilities on my shoulders? [He breaks off, panting, then bursts out again] “Sign your own death sentence, please; I’m too tenderhearted to do it myself”: that’s what you’re saying to me now. Oh! it would take a Christian to hit on that — a gentle, compassionate Christian, that turns pale at the sight of a scuffle and a couple of bullet wounds. I might have known when you began to play the angel of mercy that the real thing was going to begin! Why do you look at me that way? Consent, man, of course; and go to your dinner: the thing’s not worth all this fuss. Tell your colonel he can have me shot, or hanged, or whatever comes handiest — roasted alive, if it’s any amusement to him — and be done with it!
Montanelli, with austere dignity, strikes the bell. The soldiers enter instantly, showing that they have been waiting immediately outside. Ferrari follows them.
MONTANELLI. You can take back the prisoner.
GADFLY [with mock sweetness as he is led out] Good afternoon, Colonel Ferrari. So sorry to have frightened you.
He is taken out.
MONTANELLI [to Ferrari] Do you honestly believe that the presence of Rivarez in the prison here is a serious danger to the peace of the district?
FERRARI. Most certainly I do, your Eminence.
MONTANELLI. You think that, to prevent the risk of bloodshed, it is absolutely necessary that he should somehow be got rid of before Corpus Domini?
FERRARI. I can only repeat that if he is here on Thursday, I do not expect the festival to pass over without a fight, and I think it likely to be a serious one.
MONTANELLI [forcibly, after an impressive pause] Colonel Ferrari: do you believe in God?
FERRARI. !!!! Your Eminence!!
MONTANELLI [rising and looking at him searchingly] Do you believe in God?
FERRARI [also rising] Your Eminence, I am a Christian man, and have never yet been refused absolution.
MONTANELLI [lifting the cross on his breast] Then swear on the cross of the Redeemer Who died for you, that you have been speaking the truth to me.
Ferrari gazes at him blankly.
You have asked me to give my consent to a man’s death. Kiss the cross, if you dare; and tell me that you believe there is no other way to prevent greater bloodshed. And remember that if you tell me a lie you are imperilling your immortal soul.
FERRARI [after a pause, bends down and puts the cross to his lips] I believe it.
A priest, Montanelli’s secretary, enters.
MONTANELLI. Why am I interrupted?
PRIEST. The woman, your Eminence.
MONTANELLI. What woman?
PRIEST. The woman who wrote to your Eminence this morning. On a matter of life and death. Your Eminence’s orders were that she should be admitted instantly.
MONTANELLI. Tell her that my present business is also of life and death. She must wait.
FERRARI. One moment, your Eminence. It may be the same business. I should like to see this woman, if your Eminence will be so good as to admit her before I leave the room.
MONTANELLI. Colonel Ferrari: must I again remind you that my palace is not a police office.
FERRARI [bluntly] Your Eminence: it is a place where men are sentenced to death. Will your Eminence take this whole business, fighting and all, on yourself from beginning to end?
MONTANELLI. You know that that is impossible.
Ferrari. Well, will you leave it altogether in my hands?
MONTANELLI. No: I must bear the burden of my own duties.
FERRARI. Then Church and State are partners; and they must treat one another reasonably. This woman can come to no harm if she deserves your protection. If your Eminence will not let me see or hear, I must have her watched: that is all.
MONTANELLI [to the Priest] Let her come in.
PRIEST [opening the door] You are to come in.
Gemma enters.
Ferrari [rising] Ah, I thought so. That is all I wanted, your Eminence. This is Signora Gemma Bolla. If we knew as much about this sedition as Signora Bolla does, we should make short work of it. I take my leave of your Eminence.
The Cardinal dismisses him with a gesture. Gemma watches him as he goes to the door. On the threshold he stops and turns.
Oh, by the way, your Eminence, I was forgetting what I came for. I have not had your Eminence’s final answer about the CourtMartial.
GEMMA. I beg your Eminence not to give that answer until you have heard what I have to say to you.
MONTANELLI. In that case, Colonel Ferrari, the lady’s business is public and concerns us both. You had better wait.
GEMMA. No: it is private — deeply private business.
Private business concerning your Eminence personally.
MONTANELLI. In that case, since no private considerations can alter my public duty, you can take my final answer now, Colonel. I consent to the CourtMartial.
GEMMA. What are you doing —
Ferrari [cutting her short exultantly] I thank your Eminence. Your orders shall be carried out at once.
He goes out.
GEMMA. I am glad to see that Cardinal Montanelli is more attached to his duty than Canon Montanelli, Father Director of the Theological Seminary in Pisa, and confessor to Arthur Burton.
MONTANELLI [turning white] What do you know of Arthur Burton?
GEMMA. I know that he confessed to only two priests in all his life. The one was a police spy. The other was his own father, the betrayer of his mother.
MONTANELLI [controlling himself] What do you want with me, my daughter?
GEMMA. Have you seen Rivarez?
MONTANELLI. Yes.
GEMMA. You know then that he does not believe in priests?
MONTANELLI. I know that he does not believe in anything.
GEMMA. Not even in women?
MONTANELLI. A man who does not believe in priests, my daughter, is not likely to believe in women.
GEMMA. Arthur Burton believed in women until his girl comrade struck him in the face because he trusted a political secret to a priest.
MONTANELLI. And drove him to his death by that act. Thank God, it was not the priest’s sin that broke his heart!
GEMMA. Are you sure that he is dead?
MONTANELLI. He drowned himself.
GEMMA. Did you find his body?
MONTANELLI.