Major Barbara/Act II, § iii
UNDERSHAFT. Keep to the point. We have to win her; and we are
neither of us Methodists.
CUSINS. That doesn't matter. The power Barbara wields here—the power that wields Barbara herself—is not Calvinism, not Presbyterianism, not Methodism—
UNDERSHAFT. Not Greek Paganism either, eh?
CUSINS. I admit that. Barbara is quite original in her religion.
UNDERSHAFT [triumphantly] Aha! Barbara Undershaft would be. Her inspiration comes from within herself.
CUSINS. How do you suppose it got there?
UNDERSHAFT [in towering excitement] It is the Undershaft inheritance. I shall hand on my torch to my daughter. She shall make my converts and preach my gospel
CUSINS. What! Money and gunpowder!
UNDERSHAFT. Yes, money and gunpowder; freedom and power; command of life and command of death.
CUSINS [urbanely: trying to bring him down to earth] This is extremely interesting, Mr Undershaft. Of course you know that you are mad.
UNDERSHAFT [with redoubled force] And you?
CUSINS. Oh, mad as a hatter. You are welcome to my secret since I have discovered yours. But I am astonished. Can a madman make cannons?
UNDERSHAFT. Would anyone else than a madman make them? And now [with surging energy] question for question. Can a sane man translate Euripides?
CUSINS. No.
UNDERSHAFT [reining him by the shoulder] Can a sane woman make a man of a waster or a woman of a worm?
CUSINS [reeling before the storm] Father Colossus—Mammoth Millionaire—
UNDERSHAFT [pressing him] Are there two mad people or three in this Salvation shelter to-day?
CUSINS. You mean Barbara is as mad as we are!
UNDERSHAFT [pushing him lightly off and resuming his equanimity suddenly and completely] Pooh, Professor! let us call things by their proper names. I am a millionaire; you are a poet; Barbara is a savior of souls. What have we three to do with the common mob of slaves and idolaters? [He sits down again with a shrug of contempt for the mob].
CUSINS. Take care! Barbara is in love with the common people. So am I. Have you never felt the romance of that love?
UNDERSHAFT [cold and sardonic] Have you ever been in love with Poverty, like St Francis? Have you ever been in love with Dirt, like St Simeon? Have you ever been in love with disease and suffering, like our nurses and philanthropists? Such passions are not virtues, but the most unnatural of all the vices. This love of the common people may please an earl's granddaughter and a university professor; but I have been a common man and a poor man; and it has no romance for me. Leave it to the poor to pretend that poverty is a blessing: leave it to the coward to make a religion of his cowardice by preaching humility: we know better than that. We three must stand together above the common people: how else can we help their children to climb up beside us? Barbara must belong to us, not to the Salvation Army.
CUSINS. Well, I can only say that if you think you will get her away from the Salvation Army by talking to her as you have been talking to me, you don't know Barbara.
UNDERSHAFT. My friend: I never ask for what I can buy.
CUSINS [in a white fury] Do I understand you to imply that you can buy Barbara?
UNDERSHAFT. No; but I can buy the Salvation Army.
CUSINS. Quite impossible.
UNDERSHAFT. You shall see. All religious organizations exist by selling themselves to the rich.
CUSINS. Not the Army. That is the Church of the poor.
UNDERSHAFT. All the more reason for buying it.
CUSINS. I don't think you quite know what the Army does for the poor.
UNDERSHAFT. Oh yes I do. It draws their teeth: that is enough for me—as a man of business—
CUSINS. Nonsense! It makes them sober—
UNDERSHAFT. I prefer sober workmen. The profits are larger.
CUSINS. —honest—
UNDERSHAFT. Honest workmen are the most economical.
CUSINS. —attached to their homes—
UNDERSHAFT. So much the better: they will put up with anything sooner than change their shop.
CUSINS. —happy—
UNDERSHAFT. An invaluable safeguard against revolution.
CUSINS. —unselfish—
UNDERSHAFT. Indifferent to their own interests, which suits me exactly.
CUSINS. —with their thoughts on heavenly things—
UNDERSHAFT [rising] And not on Trade Unionism nor Socialism. Excellent.
CUSINS [revolted] You really are an infernal old rascal.
UNDERSHAFT [indicating Peter Shirley, who has just came from the shelter and strolled dejectedly down the yard between them] And this is an honest man!
SHIRLEY. Yes; and what av I got by it? [he passes on bitterly and sits on the form, in the corner of the penthouse.]
- Snobby Price, beaming sanctimoniously, and Jenny Hill, with a tambourine full of coppers, come from the shelter and go to the drum, on which Jenny begins to count the money.
UNDERSHAFT [replying to Shirley] Oh, your employers must have got a good deal by it from first to last. [He sits on the table, with one foot on the side form. Cusins, overwhelmed, sits down on the same form nearer the shelter. Barbara comes from the shelter to the middle of the yard. She is excited and a little overwrought].
BARBARA. We've just had a splendid experience meeting at the other gate in Cripps's lane. I've hardly ever seen them so much moved as they were by your confession, Mr Price.
PRICE. I could almost be glad of my past wickedness if I could believe that it would elp to keep hathers stright.
BARBARA. So it will, Snobby. How much, Jenny?
JENNY. Four and tenpence, Major.
BARBARA. Oh Snobby, if you had given your poor mother just one more kick, we should have got the whole five shillings!
PRICE. If she heard you say that, miss, she'd be sorry I didn't. But I'm glad. Oh what a joy it will be to her when she hears I'm saved!
UNDERSHAFT. Shall I contribute the odd twopence, Barbara? The millionaire's mite, eh? [He takes a couple of pennies from his pocket.]
BARBARA. How did you make that twopence?
UNDERSHAFT. As usual. By selling cannons, torpedoes, submarines, and my new patent Grand Duke hand grenade.
BARBARA. Put it back in your pocket. You can't buy your Salvation here for twopence: you must work it out.
UNDERSHAFT. Is twopence not enough? I can afford a little more, if you press me.
BARBARA. Two million millions would not be enough. There is bad blood on your hands; and nothing but good blood can cleanse them. Money is no use. Take it away. [She turns to Cusins]. Dolly: you must write another letter for me to the papers. [He makes a wry face]. Yes: I know you don't like it; but it must be done. The starvation this winter is beating us: everybody is unemployed. The General says we must close this shelter if we cant get more money. I force the collections at the meetings until I am ashamed, don't I, Snobby?
PRICE. It's a fair treat to see you work it, miss. The way you got them up from three-and-six to four-and-ten with that hymn, penny by penny and verse by verse, was a caution. Not a Cheap Jack on Mile End Waste could touch you at it.
BARBARA. Yes; but I wish we could do without it. I am getting at last to think more of the collection than of the people's souls. And what are those hatfuls of pence and halfpence? We want thousands! tens of thousands! hundreds of thousands! I want to convert people, not to be always begging for the Army in a way I'd die sooner than beg for myself.
UNDERSHAFT [in profound irony] Genuine unselfishness is capable of anything, my dear.
BARBARA [unsuspectingly, as she turns away to take the money from the drum and put it in a cash bag she carries] Yes, isn't it? [Undershaft looks sardonically at Cusins].
CUSINS [aside to Undershaft] Mephistopheles! Machiavelli!
BARBARA [tears coming into her eyes as she ties the bag and pockets it] How are we to feed them? I can't talk religion to a man with bodily hunger in his eyes. [Almost breaking down] It's frightful.
JENNY [running to her] Major, dear—
BARBARA [rebounding] No: don't comfort me. It will be all right. We shall get the money.
UNDERSHAFT. How?
JENNY. By praying for it, of course. Mrs Baines says she prayed for it last night; and she has never prayed for it in vain: never once. [She goes to the gate and looks out into the street].
BARBARA [who has dried her eyes and regained her composure] By the way, dad, Mrs Baines has come to march with us to our big meeting this afternoon; and she is very anxious to meet you, for some reason or other. Perhaps she'll convert you.
UNDERSHAFT. I shall be delighted, my dear.
JENNY [at the gate: excitedly] Major! Major! Here's that man back again.
BARBARA. What man?
JENNY. The man that hit me. Oh, I hope he's coming back to join us.
- Bill Walker, with frost on his jacket, comes through the gate, his hands deep in his pockets and his chin sunk between his shoulders, like a cleaned-out gambler. He halts between Barbara and the drum.
BARBARA. Hullo, Bill! Back already!
BILL [nagging at her] Bin talkin ever sense, av you?
BARBARA. Pretty nearly. Well, has Todger paid you out for poor Jenny's jaw?
BILL. NO he ain't.
BARBARA. I thought your jacket looked a bit snowy.
BILL. So it is snowy. You want to know where the snow come from, don't you?
BARBARA. Yes.
BILL. Well, it come from off the ground in Parkinses Corner in Kennintahn. It got rubbed off be my shoulders see?
BARBARA. Pity you didn't rub some off with your knees, Bill! That would have done you a lot of good.
BILL [with your mirthless humor] I was saving another man's knees at the time. E was kneelin on my ed, so e was.
JENNY. Who was kneeling on your head?
BILL. Todger was. E was prayin for me: prayin comfortable with me as a carpet. So was Mog. So was the ole bloomin meetin. Mog she sez "O Lord break is stubborn spirit; but don't urt is dear art." That was wot she said. "Don't urt is dear art"! An er bloke— thirteen stun four!—kneelin wiv all is weight on me. Funny, ain't it?
JENNY. Oh no. We're so sorry, Mr Walker.
BARBARA [enjoying it frankly] Nonsense! of course it's funny. Served you right, Bill! You must have done something to him first.
BILL [doggedly] I did wot I said I'd do. I spit in is eye. E looks up at the sky and sez, "O that I should be fahnd worthy to be spit upon for the gospel's sake!" e sez; an Mog sez "Glory Allelloolier!"; an then a called me Brother, an dahned me as if I was a kid and a was me mother washin me a Setterda nawt. I adn't just no show wiv im at all. Arf the street prayed; an the tother arf larfed fit to split theirselves. [To Barbara] There! are you settisfawd nah?
BARBARA [her eyes dancing] Wish I'd been there, Bill.
BILL. Yes: you'd a got in a hextra bit o talk on me, wouldn't you?
JENNY. I'm so sorry, Mr. Walker.
BILL [fiercely] Don't you go bein sorry for me: you've no call. Listen ere. I broke your jawr.
JENNY. No, it didn't hurt me: indeed it didn't, except for a moment. It was only that I was frightened.
BILL. I don't want to be forgive be you, or be ennybody. Wot I did I'll pay for. I tried to get me own jawr broke to settisfaw you—
JENNY [distressed] Oh no—
BILL [impatiently] Tell y'I did: cawn't you listen to wot's bein told you? All I got be it was bein made a sight of in the public street for me pains. Well, if I cawn't settisfaw you one way, I can another. Listen ere! I ad two quid saved agen the frost; an I've a pahnd of it left. A mate n mine last week ad words with the Judy e's goin to marry. E give er wot-for; an e's bin fined fifteen bob. E ad a right to it er because they was goin to be marrid; but I adn't no right to it you; so put anather fawv bob on an call it a pahnd's worth. [He produces a sovereign]. Ere's the money. Take it; and let's av no more o your forgivin an prayin and your Major jawrin me. Let wot I done be done and paid for; and let there be a end of it.
JENNY. Oh, I couldn't take it, Mr. Walker. But if you would give a shilling or two to poor Rummy Mitchens! you really did hurt her; and she's old.
BILL [contemptuously] Not likely. I'd give her anather as soon as look at er. Let her av the lawr o me as she threatened! She ain't forgiven me: not mach. Wot I done to er is not on me mawnd—wot she [indicating Barbara] might call on me conscience—no more than stickin a pig. It's this Christian game o yours that I won't av played agen me: this bloomin forgivin an neggin an jawrin that makes a man that sore that iz lawf's a burdn to im. I won't av it, I tell you; so take your money and stop throwin your silly bashed face hup agen me.
JENNY. Major: may I take a little of it for the Army?
BARBARA. No: the Army is not to be bought. We want your soul, Bill; and we'll take nothing less.
BILL [bitterly] I know. It ain't enough. Me an me few shillins is not good enough for you. You're a earl's grendorter, you are. Nothin less than a underd pahnd for you.
UNDERSHAFT. Come, Barbara! you could do a great deal of good with a hundred pounds. If you will set this gentleman's mind at ease by taking his pound, I will give the other ninety-nine [Bill, astounded by such opulence, instinctively touches his cap].
BARBARA. Oh, you're too extravagant, papa. Bill offers twenty pieces of silver. All you need offer is the other ten. That will make the standard price to buy anybody who's for sale. I'm not; and the Army's not. [To Bill] You'll never have another quiet moment, Bill, until you come round to us. You can't stand out against your salvation.
BILL [sullenly] I cawn't stend aht agen music all wrastlers and artful tongued women. I've offered to pay. I can do no more. Take it or leave it. There it is. [He throws the sovereign on the drum, and sits down on the horse-trough. The coin fascinates Snobby Price, who takes an early opportunity of dropping his cap on it].
Mrs Baines comes from the shelter. She is dressed as a Salvation Army Commissioner. She is an earnest looking woman of about 40, with a caressing, urgent voice, and an appealing manner.
BARBARA. This is my father, Mrs Baines. [Undershaft comes from the table, taking his hat off with marked civility]. Try what you an do with him. He won't listen to me, because he remembers what a fool I was when I was a baby.
[She leaves them together and chats with Jenny].
MRS BAINES. Have you been shown over the shelter, Mr Undershaft? You know the work we're doing, of course.
UNDERSHAFT [very civilly] The whole nation knows it, Mrs Baines.
MRS BAINES. No, Sir: the whole nation does not know it, or we should not be crippled as we are for want of money to carry our work through the length and breadth of the land. Let me tell you that there would have been rioting this winter in London but for us.
UNDERSHAFT. You really think so?
MRS BAINES. I know it. I remember 1886, when you rich gentlemen hardened your hearts against the cry of the poor. They broke the windows of your clubs in Pall Mall.
UNDERSHAFT [gleaming with approval of their method] And the Mansion House Fund went up next day from thirty thousand pounds to seventy-nine thousand! I remember quite well.
MRS BAINES. Well, won't you help me to get at the people? They won't break windows then. Come here, Price. Let me show you to this gentleman [Price comes to be inspected]. Do you remember the window breaking?
PRICE. My ole father thought it was the revolution, ma'am.
MRS BAINES. Would you break windows now?
PRICE. Oh no ma'm. The windows of eaven av bin opened to me. I know now that the rich man is a sinner like myself.
RUMMY [appearing above at the loft door] Snobby Price!
SNOBBY. Wot is it?
RUMMY. Your mother's askin for you at the other gate in Crippses Lane. She's heard about your confession [Price turns pale].
MRS BAINES. Go, Mr. Price; and pray with her.
JENNY. You can go through the shelter, Snobby.
PRICE [to Mrs Baines] I couldn't face her now; ma'am, with all the weight of my sins fresh on me. Tell her she'll find her son at ome, waitin for her in prayer. [He skulks off through the gate, incidentally stealing the sovereign on his way out by picking up his cap from the drum].
MRS BAINES [with swimming eyes] You see how we take the anger and the bitterness against you out of their hearts, Mr Undershaft.
UNDERSHAFT. It is certainly most convenient and gratifying to all large employers of labor, Mrs Baines.
MRS BAINES. Barbara: Jenny: I have good news: most wonderful news. [Jenny runs to her]. My prayers have been answered. I told you they would, Jenny, didn't I?
JENNY. Yes, yes.
BARBARA [moving nearer to the drum] Have we got money enough to keep the shelter open?
MRS BAINES. I hope we shall have enough to keep all the shelters open. Lord Saxmundham has promised us five thousand pounds—
BARBARA. Hooray!
JENNY. Glory!
MRS BAINES. —if—
BARBARA. "If!" If what?
MRS BAINES. If five other gentlemen will give a thousand each to make it up to ten thousand.
BARBARA. Who is Lord Saxmundham? I never heard of him.
UNDERSHAFT [who has pricked up his ears at the peer's name, and is now watching Barbara curiously] A new creation, my dear. You have heard of Sir Horace Bodger?
BARBARA. Bodger! Do you mean the distiller? Bodger's whisky!
UNDERSHAFT. That is the man. He is one of the greatest of our public benefactors. He restored the cathedral at Hakington. They made him a baronet for that. He gave half a million to the funds of his party: they made him a baron for that.
SHIRLEY. What will they give him for the five thousand?
UNDERSHAFT. There is nothing left to give him. So the five thousand, I should think, is to save his soul.