Man and Superman and Three Other Plays by George Bernard Shaw Page B
Authors: George Bernard Shaw
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Frank!
FRANK Hallo! [To PRAED.] The Roman father. [ To the clergyman. ] Yes, govânor: all right: presently. [ To PRAED. ] Look here, Praed: youâd better go in to tea. Iâll join you directly.
PRAED Very good. [ He raises his hat to the clergyman, who acknowledges the salute distantly. PRAED goes into the cottage. The clergyman remains stiffly outside the gate, with his hands on the top of it. The REV. SAMUEL GARDNER, a beneficed clergyman of the Established Church, is over 50. He is a pretentious, booming, noisy person, hopelessly asserting himself as a father and a clergyman without being able to command respect in either capacity .]
REV. S. Well, sir. Who are your friends here, if I may ask?
FRANK Oh, itâs all right, govânor! Come in.
REV. S. No, sir; not until I know whose garden I am entering.
FRANK Itâs all right. Itâs Miss Warrenâs.
REV. S. I have not seen her at church since she came.
FRANK Of course not: sheâs a third wranglerâever so intellectual! âtook a higher degree than you did; so why should she go to hear you preach?
REV. S. Donât be disrespectful, sir.
FRANK Oh, it donât matter: nobody hears us. Come in. [ He opens the gate, unceremoniously pulling his father with it into the garden. ] I want to introduce you to her. She and I get on rattling well together: sheâs charming. Do you remember the advice you gave me last July, govânor?
REV. S. [ severely ] Yes. I advised you to conquer your idleness and flippancy, and to work your way into an honorable profession and live on it and not upon me.
FRANK No: thatâs what you thought of afterwards. What you actually said was that since I had neither brains nor money, Iâd better turn my good looks to account by marrying somebody with both. Well, look here. Miss Warren has brains: you canât deny that.
REV. S. Brains are not everything.
FRANK No, of course not: thereâs the moneyâ
REV. S. [ interrupting him austerely ] I was not thinking of money, sir. I was speaking of higher thingsâsocial position, for instance.
FRANK I donât care a rap about that.
REV. S. But I do, sir.
FRANK Well, nobody wants y o u to marry her. Anyhow, she has what amounts to a high Cambridge degree; and she seems to have as much money as she wants.
REV. S. [ sinking into a feeble vein of humor ] I greatly doubt whether she has as much money as y o u will want.
FRANK Oh, come: I havenât been so very extravagant. I live ever so quietly; I donât drink; I donât bet much; and I never go regularly on the razzle-dazzle as you did when you were my age.
REV. S. [ booming hollowly ] Silence, sir.
FRANK Well, you told me yourself, when I was making ever such an ass of myself about the barmaid at Redhill, that you once offered a woman £50 for the letters you wrote to her whenâ
REV. S. [ terrified ] Sh-sh-sh, Frank, for Heavenâs sake! [ He looks round apprehensively. Seeing no one within earshot he plucks up courage to boom again, but more subduedly. ] You are taking an ungentlemanly advantage of what I confided to you for your own good, to save you from an error you would have repented all your life long. Take warning by your fatherâs follies, sir; and donât make them an excuse for your own.
FRANK Did you ever hear the story of the Duke of Wellington and his letters?
REV. S. No, sir; and I donât want to hear it.
FRANK The old Iron Duke didnât throw away £50ânot he. He just wrote: âMy dear Jenny: Publish and be damned! Yours affectionately, Wellington.â l Thatâs what you should have done.
REV. S. [ piteously ] Frank, my boy: when I wrote those letters I put myself into that womanâs power. When I told you about her I put myself, to some extent, I am sorry to say, in your power. She refused my money with these words, which I shall never forget: âKnowledge is power,â she said; âand I never sell
FRANK Hallo! [To PRAED.] The Roman father. [ To the clergyman. ] Yes, govânor: all right: presently. [ To PRAED. ] Look here, Praed: youâd better go in to tea. Iâll join you directly.
PRAED Very good. [ He raises his hat to the clergyman, who acknowledges the salute distantly. PRAED goes into the cottage. The clergyman remains stiffly outside the gate, with his hands on the top of it. The REV. SAMUEL GARDNER, a beneficed clergyman of the Established Church, is over 50. He is a pretentious, booming, noisy person, hopelessly asserting himself as a father and a clergyman without being able to command respect in either capacity .]
REV. S. Well, sir. Who are your friends here, if I may ask?
FRANK Oh, itâs all right, govânor! Come in.
REV. S. No, sir; not until I know whose garden I am entering.
FRANK Itâs all right. Itâs Miss Warrenâs.
REV. S. I have not seen her at church since she came.
FRANK Of course not: sheâs a third wranglerâever so intellectual! âtook a higher degree than you did; so why should she go to hear you preach?
REV. S. Donât be disrespectful, sir.
FRANK Oh, it donât matter: nobody hears us. Come in. [ He opens the gate, unceremoniously pulling his father with it into the garden. ] I want to introduce you to her. She and I get on rattling well together: sheâs charming. Do you remember the advice you gave me last July, govânor?
REV. S. [ severely ] Yes. I advised you to conquer your idleness and flippancy, and to work your way into an honorable profession and live on it and not upon me.
FRANK No: thatâs what you thought of afterwards. What you actually said was that since I had neither brains nor money, Iâd better turn my good looks to account by marrying somebody with both. Well, look here. Miss Warren has brains: you canât deny that.
REV. S. Brains are not everything.
FRANK No, of course not: thereâs the moneyâ
REV. S. [ interrupting him austerely ] I was not thinking of money, sir. I was speaking of higher thingsâsocial position, for instance.
FRANK I donât care a rap about that.
REV. S. But I do, sir.
FRANK Well, nobody wants y o u to marry her. Anyhow, she has what amounts to a high Cambridge degree; and she seems to have as much money as she wants.
REV. S. [ sinking into a feeble vein of humor ] I greatly doubt whether she has as much money as y o u will want.
FRANK Oh, come: I havenât been so very extravagant. I live ever so quietly; I donât drink; I donât bet much; and I never go regularly on the razzle-dazzle as you did when you were my age.
REV. S. [ booming hollowly ] Silence, sir.
FRANK Well, you told me yourself, when I was making ever such an ass of myself about the barmaid at Redhill, that you once offered a woman £50 for the letters you wrote to her whenâ
REV. S. [ terrified ] Sh-sh-sh, Frank, for Heavenâs sake! [ He looks round apprehensively. Seeing no one within earshot he plucks up courage to boom again, but more subduedly. ] You are taking an ungentlemanly advantage of what I confided to you for your own good, to save you from an error you would have repented all your life long. Take warning by your fatherâs follies, sir; and donât make them an excuse for your own.
FRANK Did you ever hear the story of the Duke of Wellington and his letters?
REV. S. No, sir; and I donât want to hear it.
FRANK The old Iron Duke didnât throw away £50ânot he. He just wrote: âMy dear Jenny: Publish and be damned! Yours affectionately, Wellington.â l Thatâs what you should have done.
REV. S. [ piteously ] Frank, my boy: when I wrote those letters I put myself into that womanâs power. When I told you about her I put myself, to some extent, I am sorry to say, in your power. She refused my money with these words, which I shall never forget: âKnowledge is power,â she said; âand I never sell
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