Major Barbara, George Bernard Shaw [bookstand for reading txt] 📗

just as well as all the other sons of the big business houses? Undershaft Yes: he could learn the office routine without understanding the business, like all the other sons; and the firm would go on by its own momentum until the real Undershaft⁠—probably an Italian or a German⁠—would invent a new method and cut him out. Lady Britomart There is nothing that any Italian or German could do that Stephen could not do. And Stephen at least has breeding. Undershaft The son of a foundling! nonsense! Lady Britomart My son, Andrew! And even you may have good blood in your veins for all you know. Undershaft True. Probably I have. That is another argument in favor of a foundling. Lady Britomart Andrew: don’t be aggravating. And don’t be wicked. At present you are both. Undershaft This conversation is part of the Undershaft tradition, Biddy. Every Undershaft’s wife has treated him to it ever since the house was founded. It is mere waste of breath. If the tradition be ever broken it will be for an abler man than Stephen. Lady Britomart Pouting. Then go away. Undershaft Deprecatory. Go away! Lady Britomart Yes: go away. If you will do nothing for Stephen, you are not wanted here. Go to your foundling, whoever he is; and look after him. Undershaft The fact is, Biddy⁠— Lady Britomart Don’t call me Biddy. I don’t call you Andy. Undershaft I will not call my wife Britomart: it is not good sense. Seriously, my love, the Undershaft tradition has landed me in a difficulty. I am getting on in years; and my partner Lazarus has at last made a stand and insisted that the succession must be settled one way or the other; and of course he is quite right. You see, I haven’t found a fit successor yet. Lady Britomart Obstinately. There is Stephen. Undershaft That’s just it: all the foundlings I can find are exactly like Stephen. Lady Britomart Andrew!! Undershaft I want a man with no relations and no schooling: that is, a man who would be out of the running altogether if he were not a strong man. And I can’t find him. Every blessed foundling nowadays is snapped up in his infancy by Barnardo homes, or School Board officers, or Boards of Guardians; and if he shows the least ability, he is fastened on by schoolmasters; trained to win scholarships like a racehorse; crammed with secondhand ideas; drilled and disciplined in docility and what they call good taste; and lamed for life so that he is fit for nothing but teaching. If you want to keep the foundry in the family, you had better find an eligible foundling and marry him to Barbara. Lady Britomart Ah! Barbara! Your pet! You would sacrifice Stephen to Barbara. Undershaft Cheerfully. And you, my dear, would boil Barbara to make soup for Stephen. Lady Britomart Andrew: this is not a question of our likings and dislikings: it is a question of duty. It is your duty to make Stephen your successor. Undershaft Just as much as it is your duty to submit to your husband. Come, Biddy! these tricks of the governing class are of no use with me. I am one of the governing class myself; and it is waste of time giving tracts to a missionary. I have the power in this matter; and I am not to be humbugged into using it for your purposes. Lady Britomart Andrew: you can talk my head off; but you can’t change wrong into right. And your tie is all on one side. Put it straight. Undershaft Disconcerted. It won’t stay unless it’s pinned He fumbles at it with childish grimaces.⁠— Stephen comes in. Stephen At the door. I beg your pardon about to retire. Lady Britomart No: come in, Stephen. Stephen comes forward to his mother’s writing table. Undershaft Not very cordially. Good afternoon. Stephen Coldly. Good afternoon. Undershaft To Lady Britomart. He knows all about the tradition, I suppose? Lady Britomart Yes. To Stephen. It is what I told you last night, Stephen. Undershaft Sulkily. I understand you want to come into the cannon business. Stephen I go into trade! Certainly not. Undershaft Opening his eyes, greatly eased in mind and manner. Oh! in that case⁠—! Lady Britomart Cannons are not trade, Stephen. They are enterprise. Stephen I have no intention of becoming a man of business in any sense. I have no capacity for business and no taste for it. I intend to devote myself to politics. Undershaft Rising. My dear boy: this is an immense relief to me. And I trust it may prove an equally good thing for the country. I was afraid you would consider yourself disparaged and slighted. He moves towards Stephen as if to shake hands with him. Lady Britomart Rising and interposing. Stephen: I cannot allow you to throw away an enormous property like this. Stephen Stiffly. Mother: there must be an end of treating me as a child, if you please. Lady Britomart recoils, deeply wounded by his tone. Until last night I did not take your attitude seriously, because I did not think you meant it seriously. But I find now that you left me in the dark as to matters which you should have explained to me years ago. I am extremely hurt and offended. Any further discussion of my intentions had better take place with my father, as between one man and another. Lady Britomart Stephen! She sits down again; and her eyes fill with tears. Undershaft With grave compassion. You see, my dear, it is only the big men who can be treated as children. Stephen I am sorry, mother, that you have forced me⁠— Undershaft Stopping him. Yes, yes, yes, yes: that’s all right, Stephen. She won’t interfere with you any more: your independence is achieved: you have won your latchkey. Don’t rub it in; and above all, don’t apologize. He resumes his seat. Now what about your future, as between one man and another⁠—I beg your pardon, Biddy: as between two men and