Collected Works. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
ZOO. Very well. Behave just as you feel. It doesn't matter how you behave. But keep your wits about you when the pythoness ascends, or you will forget the questions you have come to ask her.
THE ENVOY} {[[very nervous, takes out a paper to] } [[simul-] {[refresh his memory]] Ahem! THE DAUGHTER} [taneously]]{[[alarmed]] The pythoness? Is she } {a snake?
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. Tch-ch! The priestess of the oracle. A sybil. A prophetess. Not a snake.
THE WIFE. How awful!
ZOO. I'm glad you think so.
THE WIFE. Oh dear! Dont you think so?
ZOO. No. This sort of thing is got up to impress you, not to impress me.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. I wish you would let it impress us, then, madam. I am deeply impressed; but you are spoiling the effect.
ZOO. You just wait. All this business with colored lights and chords on that old organ is only tomfoolery. Wait til you see the pythoness.
The Envoy's wife falls on her knees, and takes refuge in prayer.
THE DAUGHTER [trembling] Are we really going to see a woman who has lived three hundred years?
ZOO. Stuff! Youd drop dead if a tertiary as much as looked at you. The oracle is only a hundred and seventy; and you'll find it hard enough to stand her.
THE DAUGHTER [piteously] Oh! [she falls on her knees].
THE ENVOY. Whew! Stand by me, Poppa. This is a little more than I bargained for. Are you going to kneel; or how?
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. Perhaps it would be in better taste.
The two men kneel.
The vapor of the abyss thickens; and a distant roll of thunder seems to come from its depths. The pythoness, seated on her tripod, rises slowly from it. She has discarded the insulating robe and veil in which she conversed with Napoleon, and is now draped and hooded in voluminous folds of a single piece of grey-white stuff. Something supernatural about her terrifies the beholders, who throw themselves on their faces. Her outline flows and waves: she is almost distinct at moments, and again vague and shadowy: above all, she is larger than life-size, not enough to be measured by the flustered congregation, but enough to affect them with a dreadful sense of her supernaturalness.
ZOO. Get up, get up. Do pull yourselves together, you people.
The Envoy and his family, by shuddering negatively, intimate that it is impossible. The Elderly Gentleman manages to get on his hands and knees.
ZOO. Come on, Daddy: you are not afraid. Speak to her. She wont wait here all day for you, you know.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [rising very deferentially to his feet] Madam: you will excuse my very natural nervousness in addressing, for the first time in my life, a—a—a—a goddess. My friend and relative the Envoy is unhinged. I throw myself upon your indulgence—
ZOO [interrupting him intolerantly] Dont throw yourself on anything belonging to her or you will go right through her and break your neck. She isnt solid, like you.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. I was speaking figuratively—
ZOO. You have been told not to do it. Ask her what you want to know; and be quick about it.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [stooping and taking the prostrate Envoy by the shoulders] Ambrose: you must make an effort. You cannot go back to Baghdad without the answers to your questions.
THE ENVOY [rising to his knees] I shall be only too glad to get back alive on any terms. If my legs would support me I'd just do a bunk straight for the ship.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. No, no. Remember: your dignity—
THE ENVOY. Dignity be damned! I'm terrified. Take me away, for God's sake.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [producing a brandy flask and taking the cap off] Try some of this. It is still nearly full, thank goodness!
THE ENVOY [clutching it and drinking eagerly] Ah! Thats better. [He tries to drink again. Finding that he has emptied it, he hands it back to his father-in-law upside down].
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [taking it] Great heavens! He has swallowed half-a-pint of neat brandy. [Much perturbed, he screws the cap on again, and pockets the flask].
THE ENVOY [staggering to his feet; pulling a paper from his pocket; and speaking with boisterous confidence] Get up, Molly. Up with you, Eth.
The two women rise to their knees.
THE ENVOY. What I want to ask is this. [He refers to the paper]. Ahem! Civilization has reached a crisis. We are at the parting of the ways. We stand on the brink of the Rubicon. Shall we take the plunge? Already a leaf has been torn out of the book of the Sybil. Shall we wait until the whole volume is consumed? On our right is the crater of the volcano: on our left the precipice. One false step, and we go down to annihilation dragging the whole human race with us. [He pauses for breath].
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [recovering his spirits under the familiar stimulus of political oratory] Hear, hear!
ZOO. What are you raving about? Ask your question while you have the chance. What is it you want to know?
THE ENVOY [patronizing her in the manner of a Premier debating with a very young member of the Opposition] A young woman asks me a question. I am always glad to see the young taking an interest in politics. It is an impatient question; but it is a practical question, an intelligent question. She asks why we seek to lift a corner of the veil that shrouds the future from our feeble vision.
ZOO. I don't. I ask you to tell the oracle what you want, and not keep her sitting there all day.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [warmly] Order, order!
ZOO. What does 'Order, order!' mean?
THE ENVOY. I ask the august oracle to listen to my voice—
ZOO. You people seem never to tire of listening to your voices; but it doesn't amuse us. What do you want?
THE ENVOY. I want, young woman, to be allowed to proceed without unseemly interruptions.
A low roll of thunder comes from the abyss.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. There! Even the oracle is indignant. [To the Envoy] Do not allow yourself to be put down by this lady's rude clamor, Ambrose. Take no notice. Proceed.
THE ENVOY'S WIFE. I cant bear this much longer, Amby. Remember: I havn't had any brandy.
HIS DAUGHTER [trembling] There are serpents curling in the vapor. I am afraid of the lightning. Finish it, Papa; or I shall die.
THE ENVOY [sternly] Silence. The destiny of British civilization is at stake. Trust me. I am not afraid. As I was saying—where was I?
ZOO. I don't know. Does anybody?
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [tactfully] You were just coming to the election, I think.
THE ENVOY [reassured] Just so. The election. Now what we want to know is this: ought we to dissolve in August, or put it off until next spring?
ZOO. Dissolve? In what? [Thunder]. Oh! My fault this time. That means that the oracle understands you, and desires me to hold my tongue.
THE ENVOY [fervently] I thank the oracle.
THE WIFE [to Zoo] Serve you right!
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. Before the oracle replies, I should like to be allowed to state a few of the reasons why, in my opinion, the Government should hold on until the spring. In the first—
Terrific lightning and thunder. The Elderly Gentleman is knocked flat; but as he immediately sits up again dazedly it is clear that he is none the worse for the shock. The ladies cower in terror. The Envoy's hat is blown off; but