ELLIE A siren. So you are. You were born to lead men by the nose: if you weren‘t, Marcus would have waited for me, perhaps.
MRS HUSHABYE [
suddenly melting and half laughing
] Oh, my poor Ellie, my pettikins, my unhappy darling! I am so sorry about Hector. But what can I do? It’s not my fault: I’d give him to you if I could.
ELLIE I don’t blame you for that.
MRS HUSHABYE What a brute I was to quarrel with you and call you names! Do kiss me and say you’re not angry with me.
ELLIE [
fiercely
] Oh, don’t slop and gush and be sentimental. Don’t you see that unless I can be hard—as hard as nails—I shall go mad? I don’t care a damn about your calling me names: do you think a woman in my situation can feel a few hard words?
MRS HUSHABYE Poor little woman! Poor little situation!
ELLIE I suppose you think you’re being sympathetic. You are just foolish and stupid and selfish. You see me getting a smasher right in the face that kills a whole part of my life: the best part that can never come again; and you think you can help me over it by a little coaxing and kissing. When I want all the strength I can get to lean on: something iron, something stony, I don’t care how cruel it is, you go all mushy and want to slobber over me. I’m not angry; I’m not unfriendly; but for God’s sake do pull yourself together; and don’t think that because you’re on velvet and always have been, women who are in hell can take it as easily as you.
MRS HUSHABYE
[shrugging her shoulders]
Very well.
[She sits down on the sofa in her old place.
] But I warn you that when I am neither coaxing and kissing nor laughing, I am just wondering how much longer I can stand living in this cruel, damnable world. You object to the siren: well, I drop the siren. You want to rest your wounded bosom against a grindstone. Well [
folding her arms
]
,
here is the grindstone.
ELLIE [
sitting down beside her, appeased
] That’s better: you really have the trick of falling in with everyone’s mood; but you don’t understand, because you are not the sort of woman for whom there is only one man and only one chance.
MRS HUSHABYE I certainly don’t understand how your marrying that object [
indicating MANGAN
] will console you for not being able to marry Hector.
ELLIE Perhaps you don’t understand why I was quite a nice girl this morning, and am now neither a girl nor particularly nice.
MRS HUSHABYE Oh, yes, I do. It’s because you have made up your mind to do something despicable and wicked.
ELLIE I don’t think so, Hesione. I must make the best of my ruined house.
MRS HUSHABYE Pooh!You’ll get over it.Your house isn’t ruined.
ELLIE Of course I shall get over it. You don’t suppose I’m to sit down and die of a broken heart, I hope, or be an old maid living on a pittance from the Sick and Indigent Roomkeepers’ Association. But my heart is broken, all the same. What I mean by that is that I know that what has happened to me with Marcus will not happen to me ever again. In the world for me there is Marcus and a lot of other men of whom one is just the same as another. Well, if I can’t have love, that’s no reason why I should have poverty. If Mangan has nothing else, he has money.
MRS HUSHABYE And are there no
young
men with money.
ELLIE Not within my reach. Besides, a young man would have the right to expect love from me, and would perhaps leave me when he found I could not give it to him. Rich young men can get rid of their wives, you know, pretty cheaply. But this object, as you call him, can expect nothing more from me than I am prepared to give him.
MRS HUSHABYE He will be your owner, remember. If he buys you, he will make the bargain pay him and not you. Ask your father.
ELLIE
[rising and strolling to the chair to contemplate their subject]
You need not trouble on that score, Hesione. I have more to give Boss Mangan than he has to give me: it is I who am buying him, and at a pretty good price too, I think. Women are better at that sort of bargain than men. I have taken the Boss’s measure; and ten Boss Mangans shall not prevent me doing far more as I please as his wife than I have ever been able to do as a poor girl. [
Stooping to the recumbent figure.
] Shall they, Boss? I think not. [
She passes on to the drawing-table, and leans against the end of it, facing the windows.
] I shall not have to spend most of my time wondering how long my gloves will last, anyhow.
MRS HUSHABYE [
rising superbly
] Ellie, you are a wicked, sordid little beast. And to think that I actually condescended to fascinate that creature there to save you from him! Well, let me tell you this: if you make this disgusting match, you will never see Hector again if I can help it.
ELLIE [
unmoved
] I nailed Mangan by telling him that if he did not marry me he should never see you again
[she lifts herself on her wrists and seats herself on the end of the table].
MRS HUSHABYE [
recoiling
] Oh!
ELLIE So you see I am not unprepared for your playing that trump against me. Well, you just try it: that’s all. I should have made a man of Marcus, not a household pet.
MRS HUSHABYE [
flaming
] You dare!
ELLIE
[looking almost dangerous]
Set him thinking about me if
you
dare.
MRS HUSHABYE Well, of all the impudent little fiends I ever met! Hector says there is a certain point at which the only answer you can give to a man who breaks all the rules is to knock him down. What would you say if I were to box your ears?
ELLIE [
calmly
] I should pull your hair.
MRS HUSHABYE [
mischievously
] That wouldn’t hurt me. Perhaps it comes off at night.
ELLIE [
so taken aback that she drops off the table and runs to her
] Oh, you don’t mean to say, Hesione, that your beautiful black hair is false?
MRS HUSHABYE [
patting it
] Don’t tell Hector. He believes in it.
ELLIE [
groaning
] Oh! Even the hair that ensnared him false! Everything false!
MRS HUSHABYE Pull it and try. Other women can snare men in their hair; but I can swing a baby on mine. Aha! you can’t do that, Goldylocks.
ELLIE [
heartbroken
] No. You have stolen my babies.
MRS HUSHABYE Pettikins, don’t make me cry. You know what you said about my making a household pet of him is a little true. Perhaps he ought to have waited for you. Would any other woman on earth forgive you?
ELLIE Oh, what right had you to take him all for yourself! [
Pulling herself together.
] There! You couldn’t help it: neither of us could help it. He couldn’t help it. No, don’t say anything more: I can’t bear it. Let us wake the object. [
She begins stroking MANGAN’s head, reversing the movement with which she put him to sleep.
] Wake up, do you hear? You are to wake up at once. Wake up, wake up, wake—
MANGAN [
bouncing out of the chair in a fury and turning on them
] Wake up! So you think I’ve been asleep, do you? [
He kicks the chair violently back out of his way, and gets between them.
] You throw me into a trance so that I can’t move hand or foot—I might have been buried alive! it’s a mercy I wasn‘t—and then you think I was only asleep. If you’d let me drop the two times you rolled me about, my nose would have been flattened for life against the floor. But I’ve found you all out, anyhow. I know the sort of people I’m among now. I’ve heard every word you’ve said, you and your precious father, and [
to MRS HUSHABYE
] you too. So I’m an object, am I? I’m a thing, am I? I’m a fool that hasn’t sense enough to feed myself properly, am I? I’m afraid of the men that would starve if it weren’t for the wages I give them, am I? I’m nothing but a disgusting old skinflint to be made a convenience of by designing women and fool managers of my works, am I? I’m—
MRS HUSHABYE [
with the most elegant aplomb
] Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh! Mr Mangan, you are bound in honor to obliterate from your mind all you heard while you were pretending to be asleep. It was not meant for you to hear.
MANGAN Pretending to be asleep! Do you think if I was only pretending that I’d have sprawled there helpless, and listened to such unfairness, such lies, such injustice and plotting and backbiting and slandering of me, if I could have up and told you what I thought of you! I wonder I didn’t burst.
MRS HUSHABYE [
sweetly
] You dreamt it all, Mr. Mangan. We were only saying how beautifully peaceful you looked in your sleep. That was all, wasn’t it, Ellie? Believe me, Mr Mangan, all those unpleasant things came into your mind in the last half second before you woke. Ellie rubbed your hair the wrong way; and the disagreeable sensation suggested a disagreeable dream.
MANGAN [
doggedly
] I believe in dreams.
MRS HUSHABYE So do I. But they go by contraries,
ky
don’t they?
MANGAN [
depths of emotion suddenly welling up in him
] I shan’t forget, to my dying day, that when you gave me the glad eye that time in the garden, you were making a fool of me. That was a dirty low mean thing to do. You had no right to let me come near you if I disgusted you. It isn’t my fault if I’m old and haven’t a moustache like a bronze candlestick as your husband band has. There are things no decent woman would do to a man—like a man hitting a woman in the breast.
HESIONE, utterly shamed, sits down on the sofa and covers her face with her hands. MANGAN sits down also on his chair and begins to cry like a child. ELLIE stares at them. MRS HUSHABYE, at the distressing sound he makes, takes down her hands and looks at him. She rises and runs to him.
MRS HUSHABYE Don’t cry: I can’t bear it. Have I broken your heart? I didn’t know you had one. How could I?
MANGAN I’m a man, ain’t I?
MRS HUSHABYE [
half coaxing, half rallying, altogether tenderly
] Oh no: not what I call a man. Only a Boss: just that and nothing else. What business has a Boss with a heart?
MANGAN Then you’re not a bit sorry for what you did, nor ashamed?
MRS HUSHABYE I was ashamed for the first time in my life when you said that about hitting a woman in the breast, and I found out what I’d done. My very bones blushed red. You’ve had your revenge, Boss. Aren’t you satisfied?
MANGAN Serve you right! Do you hear? Serve you right! You’re just cruel. Cruel.
MRS HUSHABYE Yes: cruelty would be delicious if one could only find some sort of cruelty that didn’t really hurt. By the way [
sitting down beside him on the arm of the chair
]
,
what’s your name? It’s not really Boss, is it?
MANGAN [
shortly
] If you want to know, my name’s Alfred.
MRS HUSHABYE [
springs up
] Alfred!! Ellie, he was christened after Tennyson!!!
MANGAN [
rising
] I was christened after my uncle, and never had a penny from him, damn him! What of it?
MRS HUSHABYE It comes to me suddenly that you are a real person: that you had a mother, like anyone else.
[Putting her hands on his shoulders and surveying him.]
Little Alf!
MANGAN Well, you have a nerve.
MRS HUSHABYE And you have a heart, Alfy, a whimpering little heart, but a real one. [
Releasing him suddenly.
] Now run and make it up with Ellie. She has had time to think what to say to you, which is more than I had [
she goes out quickly into the garden by the port door
]
.
MANGAN That woman has a pair of hands that go right through you.
ELLIE Still in love with her, in spite of all we said about you?
MANGAN Are all women like you two? Do they never think of anything about a man except what they can get out of him? You weren’t even thinking that about me. You were only thinking whether your gloves would last.
ELLIE I shall not have to think about that when we are married.
MANGAN And you think I am going to marry you after what I heard there!
ELLIE You heard nothing from me that I did not tell you before.
MANGAN Perhaps you think I can’t do without you.
ELLIE I think you would feel lonely without us all, now, after coming to know us so well.
MANGAN [
with something like a yell of despair
] Am I never to have the last word?
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [
appearing at the starboard garden door
] There is a soul in torment here. What is the matter?
MANGAN This girl doesn’t want to spend her life wondering how long her gloves will last.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER
[passing through]
Don’t wear any. I never do [
he goes into the pantry
]
.
LADY UTTERWORD [
appearing at the port garden door, in a handsome dinner dress
] Is anything the matter?
ELLIE This gentleman wants to know is he never to have the last word?
LADY UTTERWORD [
coming forward to the sofa
] I should let him have it, my dear. The important thing is not to have the last word, but to have your own way.
MANGAN She wants both.
LADY UTTERWORD She won’t get them, Mr Mangan. Providence always has the last word.
MANGAN [
desperately
] Now you are going to come religion over me. In this house a man’s mind might as well be a football. I’m going. [
He makes for the hall, but is stopped by a hail from the captain, who has just emerged from his pantry
]
.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER Whither away, Boss Mangan?
MANGAN To hell out of this house: let that be enough for you and all here.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER You were welcome to come: you are free to go. The wide earth, the high seas, the spacious skies are waiting for you outside.
LADY UTTERWORD But your things, Mr Mangan. Your bag, your comb and brushes, your pyjamas—