man and superman-第33部分

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VIOLET。　What　are　you　doing　here　with　all　these　men？

ANN。　Why　did　you　leave　us　without　a　word　of　warning？

HECTOR。　I　want　that　bunch　of　roses；　Miss　Whitefield。　＇To　Tanner＇
When　we　found　you　were　gone；　Miss　Whitefield　bet　me　a　bunch　of
roses　my　car　would　not　overtake　yours　before　you　reached　Monte
Carlo。

TANNER。　But　this　is　not　the　road　to　Monte　Carlo。

HECTOR。　No　matter。　Miss　Whitefield　tracked　you　at　every　stopping
place：　she　is　a　regular　Sherlock　Holmes。

TANNER。　The　Life　Force！　I　am　lost。

OCTAVIUS。　＇Bounding　gaily　down　from　the　road　into　the
amphitheatre；　and　coming　between　Tanner　and　Straker＇　I　am　so　glad
you　are　safe；　old　chap。　We　were　afraid　you　had　been　captured　by
brigands。

RAMSDEN。　＇who　has　been　staring　at　Mendoza＇　I　seem　to　remember　the
face　of　your　friend　here。　＇Mendoza　rises　politely　and　advances
with　a　smile　between　Ann　and　Ramsden＇。

HECTOR。　Why；　so　do　I。

OCTAVIUS。　I　know　you　perfectly　well；　Sir；　but　I　can't　think　where
I　have　met　you。

MENDOZA。　＇to　Violet＇　Do　YOU　remember　me；　madam？

VIOLET。　Oh；　quite　well；　but　I　am　so　stupid　about　names。

MENDOZA。　It　was　at　the　Savoy　Hotel。　＇To　Hector＇　You；　sir；　used　to
come　with　this　lady　＇Violet＇　to　lunch。　＇To　Octavius＇　You；　sir；
often　brought　this　lady　＇Ann＇　and　her　mother　to　dinner　on　your
way　to　the　Lyceum　Theatre。　＇To　Ramsden＇　You；　sir；　used　to　come　to
supper；　with　＇dropping　his　voice　to　a　confidential　but　perfectly
audible　whisper＇　several　different　ladies。

RAMSDEN。　＇angrily＇　Well；　what　is　that　to　you；　pray？

OCTAVIUS。　Why；　Violet；　I　thought　you　hardly　knew　one　another
before　this　trip；　you　and　Malone！

VIOLET。　＇vexed＇　I　suppose　this　person　was　the　manager。

MENDOZA。　The　waiter；　madam。　I　have　a　grateful　recollection　of　you
all。　I　gathered　from　the　bountiful　way　in　which　you　treated　me
that　you　all　enjoyed　your　visits　very　much。

VIOLET。　What　impertinence！　＇She　turns　her　back　on　him；　and　goes
up　the　hill　with　Hector＇。

RAMSDEN。　That　will　do；　my　friend。　You　do　not　expect　these　ladies
to　treat　you　as　an　acquaintance；　I　suppose；　because　you　have
waited　on　them　at　table。

MENDOZA。　Pardon　me：　it　was　you　who　claimed　my　acquaintance。　The
ladies　followed　your　example。　However；　this　display　of　the
unfortunate　manners　of　your　class　closes　the　incident。　For　the
future；　you　will　please　address　me　with　the　respect　due　to　a
stranger　and　fellow　traveller。　＇He　turns　haughtily　away　and
resumes　his　presidential　seat＇。

TANNER。　There！　I　have　found　one　man　on　my　journey　capable　of
reasonable　conversation；　and　you　all　instinctively　insult　him。
Even　the　New　Man　is　as　bad　as　any　of　you。　Enry：　you　have　behaved
just　like　a　miserable　gentleman。

STRAKER。　Gentleman！　Not　me。

RAMSDEN。　Really；　Tanner；　this　tone

ANN。　Don't　mind　him；　Granny：　you　ought　to　know　him　by　this　time
＇she　takes　his　arm　and　coaxes　him　away　to　the　hill　to　join　Violet
and　Hector。　Octavius　follows　her；　doglike＇。

VIOLET。　＇calling　from　the　hill＇　Here　are　the　soldiers。　They　are
getting　out　of　their　motors。

DUVAL。　＇panicstricken＇　Oh；　nom　de　Dieu！

THE　ANARCHIST。　Fools：　the　State　is　about　to　crush　you　because　you
spared　it　at　the　prompting　of　the　political　hangers…on　of　the
bourgeoisie。

THE　SULKY　SOCIAL…DEMOCRAT。　＇argumentative　to　the　last＇　On　the
contrary；　only　by　capturing　the　State　machine

THE　ANARCHIST。　It　is　going　to　capture　you。

THE　ROWDY　SOCIAL…DEMOCRAT。　＇his　anguish　culminating＇　Ow；　chock
it。　Wot　are　we　ere　for？　WOT　are　we　wytin　for？

MENDOZA。　＇between　his　teeth＇　Goon。　Talk　politics；　you　idiots：
nothing　sounds　more　respectable。　Keep　it　up；　I　tell　you。

The　soldiers　line　the　road；　commanding　the　amphitheatre　with
their　rifles。　The　brigands；　struggling　with　an　over…whelming
impulse　to　hide　behind　one　another；　look　as　unconcerned　as　they
can。　Mendoza　rises　superbly；　with　undaunted　front。　The　officer
in　command　steps　down　from　the　road　in　to　the　amphitheatre；
looks　hard　at　the　brigands；　and　then　inquiringly　at　Tanner。

THE　OFFICER。　Who　are　these　men；　Senor　Ingles？

TANNER。　My　escort。

Mendoza；　with　a　Mephistophelean　smile；　bows　profoundly。　An
irrepressible　grin　runs　from　face　to　face　among　the　brigands。　They
touch　their　hats；　except　the　Anarchist；　who　defies　the　State　with
folded　arms。



ACT　IV

The　garden　of　a　villa　in　Granada。　Whoever　wishes　to　know　what　it
is　like　must　go　to　Granada　and　see。　One　may　prosaically　specify　a
group　of　hills　dotted　with　villas；　the　Alhambra　on　the　top　of　one
of　the　hills；　and　a　considerable　town　in　the　valley；　approached
by　dusty　white　roads　in　which　the　children；　no　matter　what　they
are　doing　or　thinking　about；　automatically　whine　for　halfpence
and　reach　out　little　clutching　brown　palms　for　them；　but　there　is
nothing　in　this　description　except　the　A1hambra；　the　begging；　and
the　color　of　the　roads；　that　does　not　fit　Surrey　as　well　as
Spain。　The　difference　is　that　the　Surrey　hills　are　comparatively
small　and　ugly；　and　should　properly　be　called　the　Surrey
Protuberances；　but　these　Spanish　hills　are　of　mountain　stock：　the
amenity　which　conceals　their　size　does　not　compromise　their
dignity。

This　particular　garden　is　on　a　hill　opposite　the　Alhambra；　and
the　villa　is　as　expensive　and　pretentious　as　a　villa　must　be　if
it　is　to　be　let　furnished　by　the　week　to　opulent　American　and
English　visitors。　If　we　stand　on　the　lawn　at　the　foot　of　the
garden　and　look　uphill；　our　horizon　is　the　stone　balustrade　of　a
flagged　platform　on　the　edge　of　infinite　space　at　the　top　of　the
hill。　Between　us　and　this　platform　is　a　flower　garden　with　a
circular　basin　and　fountain　in　the　centre；　surrounded　by
geometrical　flower　beds；　gravel　paths；　and　clipped　yew　trees　in
the　genteelest　order。　The　garden　is　higher　than　our　lawn；　so　we
reach　it　by　a　few　steps　in　the　middle　of　its　embankment。　The
platform　is　higher　again　than　the　garden；　from　which　we　mount　a
couple　more　steps　to　look　over　the　balustrade　at　a　fine　view　of
the　town　up　the　valley　and　of　the　hills　that　stretch　away　beyond
it　to　where；　in　the　remotest　distance；　they　become　mountains。　On
our　left　is　the　villa；　accessible　by　steps　from　the　left　hand
corner　of　the　garden。　Returning　from　the　platform　through　the
garden　and　down　again　to　the　lawn　（a　movement　which　leaves　the
villa　behind　us　on　our　right）　we　find　evidence　of　literary
interests　on　the　part　of　the　tenants　in　the　fact　that　there　is　no
tennis　net　nor　set　of　croquet　hoops；　but；　on　our　left；　a　little
iron　garden　table　with　books　on　it；　mostly　yellow…backed；　and　a
chair　beside　it。　A　chair　on　the　right　has　also　a　couple　of　open
books　upon　it。　There　are　no　newspapers；　a　circumstance　which；
with　the　absence　of　games；　might　lead　an　intelligent　spectator　to
the　most　far　reaching　conclusions　as　to　the　sort　of　people　who
live　in　the　villa。　Such　speculations　are　checked；　however；　on
this　delightfully　fine　afternoon；　by　the　appearance　at　a　little
gate　in　a　paling　an　our　left；　of　Henry　Straker　in　his
professional　costume。　He　opens　the　gate　for　an　elderly　gentleman；
and　follows　him　on　to　the　lawn。

This　elderly　gentleman　defies　the　Spanish　sun　in　a　black　frock
coat；　tall　silk　bat；　trousers　in　which　narrow　stripes　of　dark
grey　and　lilac　blend　into　a　highly　respectable　color；　and　a　black
necktie　tied　into　a　bow　over　spotless　linen。　Probably　therefore　a
man　whose　social　position　needs　constant　and　scrupulous
affirmation　without　regard　to　climate：　one　who　would　dress　thus
for　the　middle　of　the　Sahara　or　the　top　of　Mont　Blanc。　And　since
he　has　not　the　stamp　of　the　class　which　accepts　as　its
life…mission　the　advertizing　and　maintenance　of　first　rate
tailoring　and　millinery；　he　looks　vulgar　in　his　finery；　though　in
a　working　dress　of　any　kind　he　would　look　dignified　enough。　He　is
a　bullet　cheeked　man　with　a　red　complexion；　stubbly　hair；
smallish　eyes；　a　hard　mouth　that　folds　down　at　the　corners；　and　a
dogged　chin。　The　looseness　of　skin　that　comes　with　age　has
attacked　his　throat　and　the　laps　of　his　cheeks；　but　he　is　still
hard　as　an　apple　above　the　mouth；　so　that　the　upper　half　of　his
face　looks　younger　than　the　lower。　He　has　the　self…confidence　of
one　who　has　made　money；　and　something　of　the　truculence　of　one
who　has　made　it　in　a　brutalizing　struggle；　his　civility　having
under　it　a　perceptible　menace　that　he　has　other　methods　in
reserve　if　necessary。　Withal；　a　man　to　be　rather　pitied　when　he
is　not　to　be　feared；　for　there　is　something　pathetic　about　him　at
times；　as　if　the　huge　commercial　machine　which　has　worked　him
into　his　frock　coat　had　allowed　him　very　little　of　his　own　way
and　left　his　affections　hungry　and　baffled。　At　the　first　word
that　falls　from　him　it　is　clear　that　he　is　an　Irishman　whose
native　intonation　has　clung　to　him　through　many　changes　of　place
and　rank。　One　can　only　guess　that　the　original　material　of　his
speech　was　perhaps　the　surly　Kerry　brogue；　but　the　degradation　of
speech　that　occurs　in　London；　Glasgow；　Dublin　and　big　cities
generally　has　been　at　work　on　it　so　long　that　nobody　but　an
arrant　cockney　would　dream　of　calling　it　a　brogue　now；　for　its
music　is　almost　gone；　though　its　surliness　is　still　perceptible。
Straker；　as　a　very　obvious　cockney；　inspires　him　with　implacable
contempt；　as　a　stupid　Englishman　who　cannot　even　speak　his　own
language　properly。　Straker；　on　the　other　hand；　regards　the　old
gentleman's　accent　as　a　joke　thoughtfully　provided　by　Providence
expressly　for　the　amusement　of　the　British　race；　and　treats　him
normally　with　the　indulgence　due　to　an　inferior　and　unlucky
species；　but　occasionally　with　indignant　alarm　when　the　old
gentleman　shows　signs　of　intending　his　Irish　nonsense　to　be　taken
seriously。

STRAKER。　I'll　go　tell　the　young　lady。　She　said　you'd　prefer　to
stay　here　＇he　turns　to　go　up　through　the　garden　to　the　villa＇。

MALONE。　＇who　has　been　looking　round　him　with　lively　curiosity＇
The　young　lady？　That's　Miss　Violet；　eh？

STRAKER。　＇stopping　on　the　steps　with　sudden　suspicion＇　Well；　you
know；　don't　you？

MALONE。　Do　　I？

STRAKER。　＇his　temper　rising＇　Well；　do　you　or　don't　you？

MALONE。　What　business　is　that　of　yours？

Straker；　now　highly　indignant；　comes　back　from　the　steps　and
confronts　the　visitor。

STRAKER。　I'll　tell　you　what　business　it　is　of　mine。　Miss
Robinson

MAL