Candida

epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">He shakes his head. She turns to him again, so as to explain with the fondest intimacy. I mean, will he forgive me for not teaching him myself? For abandoning him to the bad women for the sake of my goodness⁠—my purity, as you call it? Ah, James, how little you understand me, to talk of your confidence in my goodness and purity! I would give them both to poor Eugene as willingly as I would give my shawl to a beggar dying of cold, if there were nothing else to restrain me. Put your trust in my love for you, James, for if that went, I should care very little for your sermons⁠—mere phrases that you cheat yourself and others with every day. She is about to rise. Morell His words! Candida Checking herself quickly in the act of getting up, so that she is on her knees, but upright. Whose words? Morell Eugene’s. Candida Delighted. He is always right. He understands you; he understands me; he understands Prossy; and you, James⁠—you understand nothing. She laughs, and kisses him to console him. He recoils as if stung, and springs up. Morell How can you bear to do that when⁠—oh, Candida with anguish in his voice I had rather you had plunged a grappling iron into my heart than given me that kiss. Candida Rising, alarmed. My dear: what’s the matter? Morell Frantically waving her off. Don’t touch me. Candida Amazed. James! They are interrupted by the entrance of Marchbanks, with Burgess, who stops near the door, staring, whilst Eugene hurries forward between them. Marchbanks Is anything the matter? Morell Deadly white, putting an iron constraint on himself. Nothing but this: that either you were right this morning, or Candida is mad. Burgess In loudest protest. Wot! Candy mad too! Oh, come, come, come! He crosses the room to the fireplace, protesting as he goes, and knocks the ashes out of his pipe on the bars. Morell sits down desperately, leaning forward to hide his face, and interlacing his fingers rigidly to keep them steady. Candida To Morell, relieved and laughing. Oh, you’re only shocked! Is that all? How conventional all you unconventional people are! Burgess Come: be’ave yourself, Candy. What’ll Mr. Morchbanks think of you? Candida This comes of James teaching me to think for myself, and never to hold back out of fear of what other people may think of me. It works beautifully as long as I think the same things as he does. But now, because I have just thought something different!⁠—look at him⁠—just look! She points to Morell, greatly amused. Eugene looks, and instantly presses his band on his heart, as if some deadly pain had shot through it, and sits down on the sofa like a man witnessing a tragedy. Burgess On the hearthrug. Well, James, you certainly ain’t as himpressive lookin’ as usu’l. Morell With a laugh which is half a sob. I suppose not. I beg all your pardons: I was not conscious of making a fuss. Pulling himself together. Well, well, well, well, well! He goes back to his place at the table, setting to work at his papers again with resolute cheerfulness. Candida Going to the sofa and sitting beside Marchbanks, still in a bantering humor. Well, Eugene, why are you so sad? Did the onions make you cry? Morell cannot prevent himself from watching them. Marchbanks Aside to her. It is your cruelty. I hate cruelty. It is a horrible thing to see one person make another suffer. Candida Petting him ironically. Poor boy, have I been cruel? Did I make it slice nasty little red onions? Marchbanks Earnestly. Oh, stop, stop: I don’t mean myself. You have made him suffer frightfully. I feel his pain in my own heart. I know that it is not your fault⁠—it is something that must happen; but don’t make light of it. I shudder when you torture him and laugh. Candida Incredulously. I torture James! Nonsense, Eugene: how you exaggerate! Silly! She looks round at Morell, who hastily resumes his writing. She goes to him and stands behind his chair, bending over him. Don’t work any more, dear. Come and talk to us. Morell Affectionately but bitterly. Ah no: I can’t talk. I can only preach. Candida Caressing him. Well, come and preach. Burgess Strongly remonstrating. Aw, no, Candy. ’Ang it all! Lexy Mill comes in, looking anxious and important. Lexy Hastening to shake hands with Candida. How do you do, Mrs. Morell? So glad to see you back again. Candida Thank you, Lexy. You know Eugene, don’t you? Lexy Oh, yes. How do you do, Marchbanks? Marchbanks Quite well, thanks. Lexy To Morell. I’ve just come from the Guild of St. Matthew. They are in the greatest consternation about your telegram. There’s nothing wrong, is there? Candida What did you telegraph about, James? Lexy To Candida. He was to have spoken for them tonight. They’ve taken the large hall in Mare Street and spent a lot of money on posters. Morell’s telegram was to say he couldn’t come. It came on them like a thunderbolt. Candida Surprised, and beginning to suspect something wrong. Given up an engagement to speak! Burgess First time in his life, I’ll bet. Ain’ it, Candy? Lexy To Morell. They decided to send an urgent telegram to you asking whether you could not change your mind. Have you received it? Morell With restrained impatience. Yes, yes: I got it. Lexy It was reply paid. Morell Yes, I know. I answered it. I can’t go. Candida But why, James? Morell Almost fiercely. Because I don’t choose. These people forget that I am a man: they think I am a talking machine to be turned on for their pleasure every evening of my life. May I not have one night at home, with my wife, and my friends? They are all amazed at this outburst, except Eugene. His expression remains unchanged.