The Collected Dramas of George Bernard Shaw (Illustrated Edition). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
the letter] Finished, dear boy, finished. Done to a turn, punctually to the second. C’est fini, mon cher garçon, c’est fini. [Sartorius returns].
SARTORIUS. Will you take Blanche in, Dr Trench? [Trench takes Blanche into the table d’hote.] Is the letter finished, Mr Cokane?
COKANE [with an author’s pride, handing his draft to Sartorius] There! [Sartorius reads it, nodding gravely over it with complete approval.]
SARTORIUS [returning the draft] Thank you, Mr Cokane. You have the pen of a ready writer.
COKANE [as they go in together] Not at all, not at all. A little tact, Mr Sartorius; a little knowledge of the world; a little experience of women. [They disappear into the annexe.]
ACT II
In the library of a handsomely appointed villa at Surbiton on a sunny forenoon in September. Sartorius is busy at a writing table, littered with business letters. The fireplace, decorated for summer, is close behind him : the window is in the opposite wall. Between the table and the window Blanche, in her prettiest frock, sits reading The Queen. The door, painted, like all the woodwork, in the blackest shade of red, with brass fittings and moulded posts and pediment, is in the middle. All the walls are lined with shelves of smartly tooled books, fitting into their places like bricks. A library ladder stands in the corner.
SARTORIUS Blanche.
BLANCHE Yes, papa.
SARTORIUS I have some news here.
BLANCHE What is it?
SARTORIUS I mean news for you from Trench.
BLANCHE [with affected indifference] Indeed?
SARTORIUS “Indeed?”! Is that all you have to say to me? Oh, very well. [He resumes his work. Silence.]
BLANCHE What do his people say, papa?
SARTORIUS His people! I dont know. [Still busy. Another pause.]
BLANCHE What does he say?
SARTORIUS He! He says nothing. [He folds a letter leisurely and looks for the envelope.] He prefers to communicate the result of his where did I put — Oh, here. Yes: He prefers to communicate the result in person.
BLANCHE [springing up] Oh, papa! When is he coming?
SARTORIUS If he walks from the station, he may arrive in the course of the next halfhour. If he drives, he may be here at any moment.
BLANCHE [making hastily for the door] Oh!
SARTORIUS Blanche.
BLANCHE Yes, papa.
SARTORIUS You will of course not meet him until he has spoken to me.
BLANCHE [hypocritically] Of course not, papa. I shouldnt have thought of such a thing.
SARTORIUS That is all. [She is going, when he puts out his hand, and says with fatherly emotion:] My dear child. [She responds by going over to kiss him. A tap at the door.] Come in. [Lickcheese enters, carrying a black handbag. He is a shabby, needy man, with dirty face and linen, scrubby beard and whiskers, going bald. A nervous, wiry, pertinacious sort of human terrier, judged by his mouth and eyes, but miserably apprehensive and servile before Sartorius. He bids Blanche “Good morning, miss.” and she passes out with a slight and contemptuous recognition of him.]
LICKCHEESE Good morning, sir.
SARTORIUS [harsh and peremptory] Good morning.
LICKCHEESE [taking a little sack of money from his bag] Not much this morning, sir. I have just had the honor of making Dr Trench’s acquaintance, sir.
SARTORIUS [looking up from his writing, displeased] Indeed?
LICKCHEESE Yes, sir. Dr Trench asked his way of me, and was kind enough to drive me from the station.
SARTORIUS Where is he, then?
LICKCHEESE I left him in the hall, with his friend, sir. I should think he is speaking to Miss Sartorius.
SARTORIUS Hm! What do you mean by his friend?
LICKCHEESE There is a Mr Cokane with him, sir.
SARTORIUS I see you have been talking to him, eh?
LICKCHEESE As we drove along: yes, sir.
SARTORIUS [sharply] Why did you not come by the nine o’clock train?
LICKCHEESE I thought —
SARTORIUS It cannot be helped now; so never mind what you thought. But do not put off my business again to the last moment. Has there been any further trouble about the St Giles property?
LICKCHEESE The Sanitary Inspector has been complaining again about No. 13 Robbins’s Row. He says he’ll bring it before the vestry.
SARTORIUS Did you tell him that I am on the vestry?
LICKCHEESE Yes, Sir.
SARTORIUS What did he say to that?
LICKCHEESE Said he supposed so, or you wouldnt dare to break the law so scand’lous. I only tell you what he said.
SARTORIUS Hm! Do you know his name!
LICKCHEESE Yes, sir. Speakman.
SARTORIUS Write it down in the diary for the day of the next meeting of the Health Committee. I will teach Mr Speakman his duty to members of the vestry.
LICKCHEESE [doubtfully] The vestry cant hurt him, sir. He’s under the Local Government Board.
SARTORIUS I did not ask you that. Let me see the books. [Lickcheese produces the rent book, and hands it to Sartorius; then makes the desired entry in the diary on the table, watching Sartorius with misgiving as the rent book is examined. Sartorius rises, frowning] £1:4s for repairs to No. 13. What does this mean?
LICKCHEESE Well, sir, it was the staircase on the third floor. It was downright dangerous: There werent but three whole steps in it, and no handrail. I thought it best to have a few boards put in.
SARTORIUS Boards! Firewood, sir, firewood! They will burn every stick of it. You have spent twenty-four shillings of my money on firewood for them.
LICKCHEESE There ought to be stone stairs, sir: it would be a saving in the long run. The clergyman says —
SARTORIUS What! who says?
LICKCHEESE The clergyman, sir, only the clergyman. Not that I make much account of him; but if you knew how he has worried me over that staircase —
SARTORIUS I am an Englishman; and I will suffer no priest to interfere in my business. [He turns suddenly on Lickcheese.] Now look here, Mr Lickcheese! This is the third time this year that you have brought me a bill of over a pound for repairs. I have warned you repeatedly against dealing with these tenement houses as if they were mansions in a West-End square. I have had occasion to warn you too against discussing my affairs with strangers. You have chosen to disregard my wishes. You are discharged.
LICKCHEESE [dismayed] Oh, sir, dont say that.
SARTORIUS [fiercely] You are discharged.
LICKCHEESE Well, Mr Sartorius, it is hard, so it is. No man alive could have screwed more out of them poor destitute devils for you than I have, or spent less in doing it. I have dirtied my hands at it until theyre not fit for clean work hardly; and now you turn me —
SARTORIUS [interrupting him menacingly] What do you mean by dirtying your hands? If I find that you have stepped an inch outside the letter of the law, Mr Lickcheese, I will prosecute you myself. The way to keep your hands clean is to gain the confidence of your employers. You will do well to bear that in mind in your next situation.
THE PARLOR MAID [opening the door]