the inca of perusalem-第1部分

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The　Inca　of　Perusalem

by　George　Bernard　Shaw


AN　ALMOST　HISTORICAL　COMEDIETTA








I　must　remind　the　reader　that　this　playlet　was　written　when　its
principal　character；　far　from　being　a　fallen　foe　and　virtually　a
prisoner　in　our　victorious　hands；　was　still　the　Caesar　whose
legions　we　were　resisting　with　our　hearts　in　our　mouths。　Many
were　so　horribly　afraid　of　him　that　they　could　not　forgive　me　for
not　being　afraid　of　him：　I　seemed　to　be　trifling　heartlessly　with
a　deadly　peril。　I　knew　better；　and　I　have　represented　Caesar　as
knowing　better　himself。　But　it　was　one　of　the　quaintnesses　of
popular　feeling　during　the　war　that　anyone　who　breathed　the
slightest　doubt　of　the　absolute　perfection　of　German
organization；　the　Machiavellian　depth　of　German　diplomacy；　the
omniscience　of　German　science；　the　equipment　of　every　German　with
a　complete　philosophy　of　history；　and　the　consequent　hopelessness
of　overcoming　so　magnificently　accomplished　an　enemy　except　by
the　sacrifice　of　every　recreative　activity　to　incessant　and
vehement　war　work；　including　a　heartbreaking　mass　of　fussing　and
cadging　and　bluffing　that　did　nothing　but　waste　our　energies　and
tire　our　resolution；　was　called　a　pro…German。

Now　that　this　is　all　over；　and　the　upshot　of　the　fighting　has
shown　that　we　could　quite　well　have　afforded　to　laugh　at　the
doomed　Inca；　I　am　in　another　difficulty。　I　may　be　supposed　to　be
hitting　Caesar　when　he　is　down。　That　is　why　I　preface　the　play
with　this　reminder　that　when　it　was　written　he　was　not　down。　To
make　quite　sure；　I　have　gone　through　the　proof　sheets　very
carefully；　and　deleted　everything　that　could　possibly　be　mistaken
for　a　foul　blow。　I　have　of　course　maintained　the　ancient
privilege　of　comedy　to　chasten　Caesar's　foibles　by　laughing　at
them；　whilst　introducing　enough　obvious　and　outrageous　fiction　to
relieve　both　myself　and　my　model　from　the　obligations　and
responsibilities　of　sober　history　and　biography。　But　I　should
certainly　put　the　play　in　the　fire　instead　of　publishing　it　if　it
contained　a　word　against　our　defeated　enemy　that　I　would　not　have
written　in　1913。

The　Inca　of　Perusalem　was　performed　for　the　first　time　in
England　by　the　Pioneer　Players　at　the　Criterion　Theatre；
London；　on　16th　December；　1917；　with　Gertrude　Kingston　as
Ermyntrude；　Helen　Morris　as　the　Princess；　Nigel　Playfair　as
the　waiter；　Alfred　Drayton　as　the　hotel　manager；　C。　Wordley
Hulse　as　the　Archdeacon；　and　Randle　Ayrton　as　the　Inca。



PROLOGUE

The　tableau　curtains　are　closed。　An　English　archdeacon　comes
through　them　in　a　condition　of　extreme　irritation。　He　speaks
through　the　curtains　to　someone　behind　them。

THE　ARCHDEACON。　Once　for　all；　Ermyntrude；　I　cannot　afford　to
maintain　you　in　your　present　extravagance。　＇He　goes　to　a　flight
of　steps　leading　to　the　stalls　and　sits　down　disconsolately　on
the　top　step。　A　fashionably　dressed　lady　comes　through　the
curtains　and　contemplates　him　with　patient　obstinacy。　He
continues；　grumbling。＇　An　English　clergyman's　daughter　should　be
able　to　live　quite　respectably　and　comfortably　on　an　allowance　of
？50　a　year；　wrung　with　great　difficulty　from　the　domestic
budget。

ERMYNTRUDE。　You　are　not　a　common　clergyman：　you　are　an
archdeacon。

THE　ARCHDEACON　＇angrily＇。　That　does　not　affect　my　emoluments　to
the　extent　of　enabling　me　to　support　a　daughter　whose
extravagance　would　disgrace　a　royal　personage。　＇Scrambling　to　his
feet　and　scolding　at　her。＇　What　do　you　mean　by　it；　Miss？

ERMYNTRUDE。　Oh　really；　father！　Miss！　Is　that　the　way　to　talk　to　a
widow？

THE　ARCHDEACON。　Is　that　the　way　to　talk　to　a　father？　Your
marriage　was　a　most　disastrous　imprudence。　It　gave　you　habits
that　are　absolutely　beyond　your　meansI　mean　beyond　my　means：
you　have　no　means。　Why　did　you　not　marry　Matthews：　the　best
curate　I　ever　had？

ERMYNTRUDE。　I　wanted　to；　and　you　wouldn't　let　me。　You　insisted　on
my　marrying　Roosenhonkers…Pipstein。

THE　ARCHDEACON。　I　had　to　do　the　best　for　you；　my　child。
Roosenhonkers…Pipstein　was　a　millionaire。

ERMYNTRUDE。　How　did　you　know　he　was　a　millionaire？

THE　ARCHDEACON。　He　came　from　America。　Of　course　he　was　a
millionaire。　Besides；　he　proved　to　my　solicitors　that　he　had
fifteen　million　dollars　when　you　married　him。

ERYNTRUDE。　His　solicitors　proved　to　me　that　he　had　sixteen
millions　when　he　died。　He　was　a　millionaire　to　the　last。

THE　ARCHDEACON。　O　Mammon；　Mammon！　I　am　punished　now　for　bowing
the　knee　to　him。　Is　there　nothing　left　of　your　settlement？　Fifty
thousand　dollars　a　year　it　secured　to　you；　as　we　all　thought。
Only　half　the　securities　could　be　called　speculative。　The　other
half　were　gilt…edged。　What　has　become　of　it　all？

ERMYNTRUDE。　The　speculative　ones　were　not　paid　up；　and　the
gilt…edged　ones　just　paid　the　calls　on　them　until　the　whole　show
burst　up。

THE　ARCHDEACON。　Ermyntrude：　what　expressions！

ERMYNTRUDE。　Oh　bother！　If　you　had　lost　ten　thousand　a　year　what
expressions　would　you　use；　do　you　think？　The　long　and　the　short
of　it　is　that　I　can't　live　in　the　squalid　way　you　are　accustomed
to。

THE　ARCHDEACON。　Squalid！

ERMYNTRUDE。　I　have　formed　habits　of　comfort。

THE　ARCHDEACON。　Comfort！！

ERMYNTRUDE。　Well；　elegance　if　you　like。　Luxury；　if　you　insist。
Call　it　what　you　please。　A　house　that　costs　less　than　a　hundred
thousand　dollars　a　year　to　run　is　intolerable　to　me。

THE　ARCHDEACON。　Then；　my　dear；　you　had　better　become　lady's　maid
to　a　princess　until　you　can　find　another　millionaire　to　marry
you。

ERMYNTRUDE。　That's　an　idea。　I　will。　＇She　vanishes　through　the
curtains。＇

THE　ARCHDEACON。　What！　Come　back。　Come　back　this　instant。　＇The
lights　are　lowered。＇　Oh；　very　well：　I　have　nothing　more　to　say。
＇He　descends　the　steps　into　the　auditorium　and　makes　for　the
door；　grumbling　all　the　time。＇　Insane；　senseless　extravagance！
＇Barking。＇　Worthlessness！！　＇Muttering。＇　I　will　not　bear　it　any
longer。　Dresses；　hats；　furs；　gloves；　motor　rides：　one　bill　after
another：　money　going　like　water。　No　restraint；　no　self…control；
no　decency。　＇Shrieking。＇　I　say；　no　decency！　＇Muttering　again。＇
Nice　state　of　things　we　are　coming　to！　A　pretty　world！　But　I
simply　will　not　bear　it。　She　can　do　as　she　likes。　I　wash　my　hands
of　her：　I　am　not　going　to　die　in　the　workhouse　for　any
good…for…nothing；　undutiful；　spendthrift　daughter；　and　the　sooner
that　is　understood　by　everybody　the　better　for　all　par　＇He　is
by　this　time　out　of　hearing　in　the　corridor。＇



THE　PLAY

A　hotel　sitting　room。　A　table　in　the　centre。　On　it　a　telephone。
Two　chairs　at　it；　opposite　one　another。　Behind　it；　the　door。　The
fireplace　has　a　mirror　in　the　mantelpiece。

A　spinster　Princess；　hatted　and　gloved；　is　ushered　in　by　the
hotel　manager；　spruce　and　artifically　bland　by　professional
habit；　but　treating　his　customer　with　a　condescending　affability
which　sails　very　close　to　the　east　wind　of　insolence。

THE　MANAGER。　I　am　sorry　I　am　unable　to　accommodate　Your　Highness
on　the　first　floor。

THE　PRINCESS　＇very　shy　and　nervous。＇　Oh；　please　don't　mention　it。
This　is　quite　nice。　Very　nice。　Thank　you　very　much。

THE　MANAGER。　We　could　prepare　a　room　in　the　annexe

THE　PRINCESS。　Oh　no。　This　will　do　very　well。

She　takes　of　her　gloves　and　hat：　puts　them　on　the　table；　and　sits
down。

THE　MANAGER。　The　rooms　are　quite　as　good　up　here。　There　is　less
noise；　and　there　is　the　lift。　If　Your　Highness　desires　anything；
there　is　the　telephone

THE　PRINCESS。　Oh；　thank　you；　I　don't　want　anything。　The　telephone
is　so　difficult：　I　am　not　accustomed　to　it。

THE　MANAGER。　Can　I　take　any　order？　Some　tea？

THE　PRINCESS。　Oh；　thank　you。　Yes：　I　should　like　some　tea；　if　I
mightif　it　would　not　be　too　much　trouble。

He　goes　out。　The　telephone　rings。　The　Princess　starts　out　of　her
chair；　terrified；　and　recoils　as　far　as　possible　from　the
instrument。

THE　PRINCESS。　Oh　dear！　＇It　rings　again。　She　looks　scared。　It
rings　again。　She　approaches　it　timidly。　It　rings　again。　She
retreats　hastily。　It　rings　repeatedly。　She　runs　to　it　in
desperation　and　puts　the　receiver　to　her　ear。＇　Who　is　there？　What
do　I　do？　I　am　not　used　to　the　telephone：　I　don't　know　how　What！
Oh；　I　can　hear　you　speaking　quite　distinctly。　＇She　sits　down；
delighted；　and　settles　herself　for　a　conversation。＇　How
wonderful！　What！　A　lady？　Oh！　a　person。　Oh；　yes：　I　know。　Yes；
please；　send　her　up。　Have　my　servants　finished　their　lunch　yet？
Oh　no：　please　don't　disturb　them：　I'd　rather　not。　It　doesn't
matter。　Thank　you。　What？　Oh　yes；　it's　quite　easy。　I　had　no　idea
am　I　to　hang　it　up　just　as　it　was？　Thank　you。　＇She　hangs　it　up。＇

Ermyntrude　enters；　presenting　a　plain　and　staid　appearance　in　a
long　straight　waterproof　with　a　hood　over　her　head　gear。　She
comes　to　the　end　of　the　table　opposite　to　that　at　which　the
Princess　is　seated。

THE　PRINCESS。　Excuse　me。　I　have　been　talking　through　the
telephone：　and　I　heard　quite　well；　though　I　have　never　ventured
before。　Won't　you　sit　down？

ERMYNTRUDE。　No；　thank　you；　Your　Highness。　I　am　only　a　lady's
maid。　I　understood　you　wanted　one。

THE　PRINCESS。　Oh　no：　you　mustn't　think　I　want　one。　It's　so
unpatriotic　to　want　anything　now；　on　account　of　the　war；　you
know。　I　sent　my　maid　away　as　a　public　duty；　and　now　she　has
married　a　soldier　and　is　expecting　a　war　baby。　But　I　don't　know
how　to　do　without　her。　I've　tried　my　very　best；　but　somehow　it
doesn't　answer：　everybody　cheats　me；　and　in　the　end　it　isn't　any
saving。　So　I've　made　up　my　mind　to　sell　my　piano　and　have　a　maid。
That　will　be　a　real　saving；　because　I　really　don't　care　a　bit　for
music；　though　of　course　one　has　to　pretend　to。　Don't　you　think
so？

ERMYNTRUDE。　Certainly　I　do；　Your　Highness。　Nothing　could　be　more
correct。　Saving　and　self…denial　both　at　once；　and　an　act　of
kindness　to　me；　as　I　am　out　of　place。

THE　PRINCESS。　I'm　so　glad　you　see　it　in　that　way。　Eryou　won't
mind　my　asking；　will　you？how　did　you　lose　your　place？

ERMYNTRUDE。　The　war；　Your　Highness；　the　war。

THE　PRINCESS。　Oh　yes；　of　course。　But　how

ERMYNTRUDE　＇taking　out　her　handkerchief　and　showing　signs　of
grief＇。　My　poor　mistress

THE　PRINCESS。　Oh　please　say　no　more。　Don't　think　about　it。　So
tactless　of　me　to　mention　it。

ERMYNTRUDE　＇mastering　her　emotion　and　smiling　through　her　tears＇