Plays By John Galsworthy Volume Iii Part 59

KATHERINE. For G.o.d's sake, Stephen!

MORE. You!--of all people--you!

KATHERINE. Stephen!

[For a moment MORE yields utterly, then shrinks back.]

MORE. A bargain! It's selling my soul!

He struggles out of her arms, gets up, and stands without speaking, staring at her, and wiping the sweat from his forehead. KATHERINE remains some seconds on her knees, gazing up at him, not realizing. Then her head droops; she too gets up and stands apart, with her wrapper drawn close round her. It is as if a cold and deadly shame had come to them both. Quite suddenly MORE turns, and, without looking back, feebly makes his way out of the room. When he is gone KATHERINE drops on her knees and remains there motionless, huddled in her hair.

THE CURTAIN FALLS

ACT IV

It is between lights, the following day, in the dining-room of MORE's house. The windows are closed, but curtains are not drawn. STEEL is seated at the bureau, writing a letter from MORE's dictation.

STEEL. [Reading over the letter] "No doubt we shall have trouble.

But, if the town authorities at the last minute forbid the use of the hall, we'll hold the meeting in the open. Let bills be got out, and an audience will collect in any case."

MORE. They will.

STEEL. "Yours truly"; I've signed for you.

[MORE nods.]

STEEL. [Blotting and enveloping the letter] You know the servants have all given notice--except Henry.

MORE. Poor Henry!

STEEL. It's partly nerves, of course--the windows have been broken twice--but it's partly----

MORE. Patriotism. Quite! they'll do the next smas.h.i.+ng themselves.

That reminds me--to-morrow you begin holiday, Steel.

STEEL. Oh, no!

MORE. My dear fellow--yes. Last night ended your sulphur cure.

Truly sorry ever to have let you in for it.

STEEL. Some one must do the work. You're half dead as it is.

MORE. There's lots of kick in me.

STEEL. Give it up, sir. The odds are too great. It isn't worth it.

MORE. To fight to a finish; knowing you must be beaten--is anything better worth it?

STEEL. Well, then, I'm not going.

MORE. This is my private h.e.l.l, Steel; you don't roast in it any longer. Believe me, it's a great comfort to hurt no one but yourself.

STEEL. I can't leave you, sir.

MORE. My dear boy, you're a brick--but we've got off by a miracle so far, and I can't have the responsibility of you any longer. Hand me over that correspondence about to-morrow's meeting.

STEEL takes some papers from his pocket, but does not hand them.

MORE. Come! [He stretches out his hand for the papers. As STEEL still draws back, he says more sharply] Give them to me, Steel!

[STEEL hands them over] Now, that ends it, d'you see?

They stand looking at each other; then STEEL, very much upset, turns and goes out of the room. MORE, who has watched him with a sorry smile, puts the papers into a dispatch-case. As he is closing the bureau, the footman HENRY enters, announcing: "Mr.

Mendip, sir." MENDIP comes in, and the FOOTMAN withdraws. MORE turns to his visitor, but does not hold out his hand.

MENDIP. [Taking MORE'S hand] Give me credit for a little philosophy, my friend. Mrs. More told me you'd be back to-day. Have you heard?

MORE. What?

MENDIP. There's been a victory.

MORE. Thank G.o.d!

MENDIP. Ah! So you actually are flesh and blood.

MORE. Yes!

MENDIP. Take off the martyr's s.h.i.+rt, Stephen. You're only flouting human nature.

MORE. So--even you defend the mob!

MENDIP. My dear fellow, you're up against the strongest common instinct in the world. What do you expect? That the man in the street should be a Quixote? That his love of country should express itself in philosophic altruism? What on earth do you expect? Men are very simple creatures; and Mob is just conglomerate essence of simple men.

MORE. Conglomerate excrescence. Mud of street and market-place gathered in a torrent--This blind howling "patriotism"--what each man feels in here? [He touches his breast] No!

MENDIP. You think men go beyond instinct--they don't. All they know is that something's hurting that image of themselves that they call country. They just feel something big and religious, and go it blind.

MORE. This used to be the country of free speech. It used to be the country where a man was expected to hold to his faith.

MENDIP. There are limits to human nature, Stephen.

MORE. Let no man stand to his guns in face of popular attack. Still your advice, is it?

MENDIP. My advice is: Get out of town at once. The torrent you speak of will be let loose the moment this news is out. Come, my dear fellow, don't stay here!