The Essential G. B. Shaw: Celebrated Plays, Novels, Personal Letters, Essays & Articles. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 9788027230617
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with goodhumored raillery, “you would not speak to her if she were to walk into this box.”

      Mr. Brailsford started and looked round; but there was no one behind him: Jack had disappeared. “No,” he said, recovering himself. “Certainly not. I cannot believe that she would venture into my presence.”

      The curtain went up as he spoke. When Madge again came on the stage, her business was of a more serious character than in the first act, and displayed the heartless determination of the adventuress rather than her amusing impudence. Lady Geraldine, admiring a certain illustration of this, turned with an approving glance to Mr. Brailsford. He was looking fixedly at the stage, no longer triumphant, almost haggard. He seemed relieved when the actress, being supposed to recognize an old lover, relented, and showed some capacity for sentiment. When the act was over, he still sat staring nervously at the curtain. Presently the box door opened; and he again looked round with a start. It was Jack, who, returning his testy regard with a grim smile, came close to him; stretched an arm over his head; and pulled over one of the curtains of the box so as to seclude it from the house. Mr Brailsford rose, trembling.

      “I absolutely refuse—” he began.

      Jack opened the door; and Madge, with her dress covered by a large domino cloak, hurried in. She threw off the cloak as soon as the door was closed, and then seized her father and kissed him. He said with difficulty, “My dear child,” sat down; and bent his head, overpowered by emotion for the moment. She stood with her hand on his shoulder, and bowed over him in a very self-possessed manner to Mary, whom she addressed as “Miss Sutherland,” and to the others.

      “I have no business to be here,” she said, in a penetrating whisper. “It is against the rules. But when Mr Jack came and told me that my father was here, I could not let him go without speaking to him.”

      Lady Geraldine bowed. She and her companions had been prepared to receive Madge with frank affection, but her appearance and manner quite disconcerted them. They recollected her as a pretty, petulant young lady: they had actually seen her as one only two minutes before on the stage. Yet here she was, apparently grown during those two minutes not only in stature but in frame. The slight and elegant lady of the play was in the box a large, strong woman, with resonant voice and measured speech. Even her hand, as she patted her father’s shoulder, moved rhythmically as if the gesture were studied. The kindly patronage with which Lady Geraldine had been willing to receive an impulsive, clever young girl, was forgotten in the midst of respect, disappointment, and even aversion inspired by the self-controlled and accomplished woman. Mary was the first to recover herself.

      “Madge,” she said, “ — that is, if one may venture to call you Madge.”

      “Indeed you may,” said Madge, nodding and smiling gracefully.

      “You are a great deal more like yourself on the stage than off it.”

      “Yes,” said Madge. “For the last two and a half years, I have not taken a single holiday.”

      Mr Brailsford now sat upright; coughed; and looked severely round. His lip relaxed as his gaze fell on Magdalen; and after an apprehensive glance at her, he lost his assurance even more obviously than the others.

      “You have grown a good deal, I think, my child,” he said nervously.

      “Yes. I hardly expected you to know me. You are looking better than ever. How are the girls?”

      “Quite well, thank you, my dear. Quite well.”

      “And mother?”

      “Oh, she is well. A little rheumatism, of course; and — a—”

      I shall come and see you all tomorrow, at one o’clock. Be sure to stay at home for me, won’t you?”

      “Certainly. Certainly. We shall be very glad to see you.”

      “Now I must run away; and I shall not see you again tonight except across the footlights, Mr Jack: my domino.” Jack put the cloak upon her shoulders. “Is the corridor empty?” Jack looked out and reported it empty. “I must give you one more kiss, father.” She did so; and on this occasion Mr Brailsford did not exhibit emotion, but merely looked dazed. Then she bowed as sweetly as before to Lady Geraldine and Mrs. Herbert.

      “Good night, Madge,” said Mary, putting up her spectacles, and peering boldly at her.

      Good night, dear,” said Madge, passing her arm round Mary’s neck, and stooping to kiss her. “Come tomorrow; and I will tell you all the news about myself. May I fly now, Mr Jack?

      “Come along,” said Jack; and she tripped out, whisking her domino dexterously through the narrow door, and revealing for an instant her small foot.

      There was an awkward silence in the box for some moments after she left. It was broken by the chuckling of Jack, who presently said aside to Mary, “When I first saw that young lady, she was a helpless good-for-nothing piece of finery.”

      “And now,” said Mary, she is an independent woman, and an accomplished artist. How I envy her!”

      “Why?” said Jack.

      “Because she is of some use in the world.”

      “If you will allow me,” said Mr Brailsford, rising suddenly, “I will return to my own place, I am incommoding your friend, doubtless. Good night. “He offered a trembling hand to Lady Geraldine; made a courtly demonstration toward Mary and Mrs Herbert, and turned to go, On his way to the door, he stopped; confronted Jack, and made him a grave bow, which was returned with equal dignity. Then he went out slowly, like an infirm old man, without any sign of his habitual jauntiness.

      “Poor devil.” said Jack.

      “I beg your pardon?”said Lady Geraldine sharply.

      “He finds his pet baby changed into a woman; and he doesn’t like it,” said Jack, not heeding her remonstrance. “Now, if she were still the cream-colored, helpless little beauty she used to be, quite dependent on him, he would be delighted to have such a pretty domestic toy to play with.”

      “Perhaps so,” said Lady Geraldine. “But there is such a thing as parental feeling; and it is possible that Mr Brailsford may not be philosopher enough to rejoice at a change which has widened the distance between her youth and his age.”

      “He need not be alarmed,” said Jack. “If he cannot make a toy of her any longer, she can make a toy of him. She is thinking already of setting up a white haired father as part of her equipment: I saw the idea come into the jade’s head whilst she was looking down at him in that chair. He looked effective. This family affection is half sense of property, and half sense of superiority. Miss Sutherland — who is no use in the world, poor young lady — had not such property in Miss Brailsford as her father expected to have, and no such comfortable power of inviting her to parties and getting her married as you look forward to. And consequently, she was the only one who bore the change in her with a good grace, and really welcomed her.”

      “I am not conscious of having been otherwise than perfectly friendly to her.”

      “Ain’t you?” said Jack, sceptically. Lady Geraldine reddened slightly; then smiled in spite of her vexation, and said, “Really, Mr. Jack, you are a sort of grown up enfant terrible, I confess that I was a little overpowered by her staginess. I can understand actors being insufferably stagey on the boards, and quite natural in a room; but I cannot make out how an actress can be perfectly natural on the boards, and stagey in private.”

      “Acting has become natural to her; and she has lost the habit of your society; that is all. As you say, acting never becomes natural to bad actors. There she comes again.”

      “The charm is considerably weakened.” said Lady Geraldine, turning toward the stage, She does not seem half so real as she did before.”

      The play ended as successfully as it had begun. The translators responded to calls for the author; and Miss Madge Lancaster took the lion’s share of the rest of the applause. Then the pit and galleries emptied themselves