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CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Is it? How much does your soul eat?
ELLIE. Oh, a lot. It eats music and pictures and books and mountains and lakes and beautiful things to wear and nice people to be with. In this country you can't have them without lots of money: that is why our souls are so horribly starved.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Mangan's soul lives on pig's food.
ELLIE. Yes: money is thrown away on him. I suppose his soul was starved when he was young. But it will not be thrown away on me. It is just because I want to save my soul that I am marrying for money. All the women who are not fools do.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. There are other ways of getting money. Why don't you steal it?
ELLIE. Because I don't want to go to prison.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Is that the only reason? Are you quite sure honesty has nothing to do with it?
ELLIE. Oh, you are very very old-fas.h.i.+oned, Captain. Does any modern girl believe that the legal and illegal ways of getting money are the honest and dishonest ways? Mangan robbed my father and my father's friends. I should rob all the money back from Mangan if the police would let me. As they won't, I must get it back by marrying him.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I can't argue: I'm too old: my mind is made up and finished. All I can tell you is that, old-fas.h.i.+oned or new-fas.h.i.+oned, if you sell yourself, you deal your soul a blow that all the books and pictures and concerts and scenery in the world won't heal [he gets up suddenly and makes for the pantry].
ELLIE [running after him and seizing him by the sleeve]. Then why did you sell yourself to the devil in Zanzibar?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [stopping, startled]. What?
ELLIE. You shall not run away before you answer. I have found out that trick of yours. If you sold yourself, why shouldn't I?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I had to deal with men so degraded that they wouldn't obey me unless I swore at them and kicked them and beat them with my fists. Foolish people took young thieves off the streets; flung them into a training s.h.i.+p where they were taught to fear the cane instead of fearing G.o.d; and thought they'd made men and sailors of them by private subscription. I tricked these thieves into believing I'd sold myself to the devil. It saved my soul from the kicking and swearing that was d.a.m.ning me by inches.
ELLIE [releasing him]. I shall pretend to sell myself to Boss Mangan to save my soul from the poverty that is d.a.m.ning me by inches.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Riches will d.a.m.n you ten times deeper. Riches won't save even your body.
ELLIE. Old-fas.h.i.+oned again. We know now that the soul is the body, and the body the soul. They tell us they are different because they want to persuade us that we can keep our souls if we let them make slaves of our bodies. I am afraid you are no use to me, Captain.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. What did you expect? A Savior, eh? Are you old-fas.h.i.+oned enough to believe in that?
ELLIE. No. But I thought you were very wise, and might help me. Now I have found you out. You pretend to be busy, and think of fine things to say, and run in and out to surprise people by saying them, and get away before they can answer you.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It confuses me to be answered. It discourages me. I cannot bear men and women. I have to run away. I must run away now [he tries to].
ELLIE [again seizing his arm]. You shall not run away from me. I can hypnotize you. You are the only person in the house I can say what I like to. I know you are fond of me. Sit down. [She draws him to the sofa].
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [yielding]. Take care: I am in my dotage. Old men are dangerous: it doesn't matter to them what is going to happen to the world.
They sit side by side on the sofa. She leans affectionately against him with her head on his shoulder and her eyes half closed.
ELLIE [dreamily]. I should have thought nothing else mattered to old men. They can't be very interested in what is going to happen to themselves.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. A man's interest in the world is only the overflow from his interest in himself. When you are a child your vessel is not yet full; so you care for nothing but your own affairs. When you grow up, your vessel overflows; and you are a politician, a philosopher, or an explorer and adventurer. In old age the vessel dries up: there is no overflow: you are a child again. I can give you the memories of my ancient wisdom: mere sc.r.a.ps and leavings; but I no longer really care for anything but my own little wants and hobbies. I sit here working out my old ideas as a means of destroying my fellow-creatures. I see my daughters and their men living foolish lives of romance and sentiment and sn.o.bbery. I see you, the younger generation, turning from their romance and sentiment and sn.o.bbery to money and comfort and hard common sense. I was ten times happier on the bridge in the typhoon, or frozen into Arctic ice for months in darkness, than you or they have ever been.
You are looking for a rich husband. At your age I looked for hards.h.i.+p, danger, horror, and death, that I might feel the life in me more intensely. I did not let the fear of death govern my life; and my reward was, I had my life. You are going to let the fear of poverty govern your life; and your reward will be that you will eat, but you will not live.
ELLIE [sitting up impatiently]. But what can I do? I am not a sea captain: I can't stand on bridges in typhoons, or go slaughtering seals and whales in Greenland's icy mountains. They won't let women be captains. Do you want me to be a stewardess?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. There are worse lives. The stewardesses could come ash.o.r.e if they liked; but they sail and sail and sail.
ELLIE. What could they do ash.o.r.e but marry for money? I don't want to be a stewardess: I am too bad a sailor. Think of something else for me.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I can't think so long and continuously. I am too old.
I must go in and out. [He tries to rise].
ELLIE [pulling him back]. You shall not. You are happy here, aren't you?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I tell you it's dangerous to keep me. I can't keep awake and alert.
ELLIE. What do you run away for? To sleep?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No. To get a gla.s.s of rum.
ELLIE [frightfully disillusioned]. Is that it? How disgusting! Do you like being drunk?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No: I dread being drunk more than anything in the world. To be drunk means to have dreams; to go soft; to be easily pleased and deceived; to fall into the clutches of women. Drink does that for you when you are young. But when you are old: very very old, like me, the dreams come by themselves. You don't know how terrible that is: you are young: you sleep at night only, and sleep soundly. But later on you will sleep in the afternoon. Later still you will sleep even in the morning; and you will awake tired, tired of life. You will never be free from dozing and dreams; the dreams will steal upon your work every ten minutes unless you can awaken yourself with rum. I drink now to keep sober; but the dreams are conquering: rum is not what it was: I have had ten gla.s.ses since you came; and it might be so much water. Go get me another: Guinness knows where it is. You had better see for yourself the horror of an old man drinking.
ELLIE. You shall not drink. Dream. I like you to dream. You must never be in the real world when we talk together.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I am too weary to resist, or too weak. I am in my second childhood. I do not see you as you really are. I can't remember what I really am. I feel nothing but the accursed happiness I have dreaded all my life long: the happiness that comes as life goes, the happiness of yielding and dreaming instead of resisting and doing, the sweetness of the fruit that is going rotten.
ELLIE. You dread it almost as much as I used to dread losing my dreams and having to fight and do things. But that is all over for me: my dreams are dashed to pieces. I should like to marry a very old, very rich man. I should like to marry you. I had much rather marry you than marry Mangan. Are you very rich?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No. Living from hand to mouth. And I have a wife somewhere in Jamaica: a black one. My first wife. Unless she's dead.
ELLIE. What a pity! I feel so happy with you. [She takes his hand, almost unconsciously, and pats it]. I thought I should never feel happy again.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Why?
ELLIE. Don't you know?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. No.
ELLIE. Heartbreak. I fell in love with Hector, and didn't know he was married.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Heartbreak? Are you one of those who are so sufficient to themselves that they are only happy when they are stripped of everything, even of hope?
ELLIE [gripping the hand]. It seems so; for I feel now as if there was nothing I could not do, because I want nothing.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. That's the only real strength. That's genius. That's better than rum.
ELLIE [throwing away his hand]. Rum! Why did you spoil it?
Hector and Randall come in from the garden through the starboard door.
HECTOR. I beg your pardon. We did not know there was anyone here.