Short Plays

calm, Balsquith. These things must happen; they save bloodshed in the long run, believe me. I’ve seen plenty of it; and I know. Balsquith I haven’t; and I don’t know. I wish those guns didn’t make such a devil of a noise. We must adopt Maxim’s Silencer for the army rifles if we’re going to shoot women. I really couldn’t stand hearing it. Someone outside tries to open the door and then knocks. What’s that? Mitchener Who’s there? The Orderly It’s only me, governor. It’s all right. Mitchener Unlocking the door and admitting the Orderly, who comes between them. What was it? The Orderly Suffragette, sir. Balsquith Did the sentry shoot her? The Orderly No, sir: she shot the sentry. Balsquith Relieved. Oh: is that all? Mitchener Most indignantly. All? A civilian shoots down one of His Majesty’s soldiers on duty; and the Prime Minister of England asks, “Is that all?”!!! Have you no regard for the sanctity of human life? Balsquith Much relieved. Well, getting shot is what a soldier is for. Besides, he doesn’t vote. Mitchener Neither do the suffragettes. Balsquith Their husbands do. To the Orderly. Did she kill him? The Orderly No, sir. He got a stinger on his trousers, sir; but it didn’t penetrate. He lost his temper a bit and put down his gun and clouted her head for her. So she said he was no gentleman; and we let her go, thinking she’d had enough, sir. Mitchener Groaning. Clouted her head! These women are making the army as lawless as themselves. Clouted her head indeed! A purely civil procedure. The Orderly Any orders, sir? Mitchener No. Yes. No. Yes: send everybody who took part in this disgraceful scene to the guardroom. No. I’ll address the men on the subject after lunch. Parade them for that purpose: full kit. Don’t grin at me, Sir. Right about face. March. The Orderly obeys and goes out. Balsquith Taking Mitchener affectionately by the arm and walking him persuasively to and fro. And now, Mitchener, will you come to the rescue of the Government and take the command that Old Red has thrown up? Mitchener How can I? You know that the people are devoted heart and soul to Sandstone. He is only bringing you “on the knee,” as we say in the army. Could any other living man have persuaded the British nation to accept universal compulsory military service as he did last year? Why, even the Church refused exemption. He is supreme⁠—omnipotent. Balsquith He was, a year ago. But ever since your book of reminiscences went into two more editions than his, and the rush for it led to the wrecking of the Times Book Club, you have become to all intents and purposes his senior. He lost ground by saying that the wrecking was got up by the booksellers. It showed jealousy; and the public felt it. Mitchener But I cracked him up in my book⁠—you see I could do no less after the handsome way he cracked me up in his⁠—and I can’t go back on it now. Breaking loose from Balsquith. No: it’s no use, Balsquith: he can dictate his terms to you. Balsquith Not a bit of it. That affair of the curate⁠— Mitchener Impatiently. Oh, damn that curate. I’ve heard of nothing but that wretched mutineer for a fortnight past. He is not a curate: whilst he is serving in the army he is a private soldier and nothing else. I really haven’t time to discuss him further. I’m busy. Good morning. He sits down at his table and takes up his letters. Balsquith Near the door. I am sorry you take that tone, Mitchener. Since you do take it, let me tell you frankly that I think Lieutenant Chubbs-Jenkinson showed a great want of consideration for the Government in giving an unreasonable and unpopular order, and bringing compulsory military service into disrepute. Mitchener No order is unreasonable; and all orders are unpopular. Balsquith When the leader of the Labor Party appealed to me and to the House last year not to throw away all the liberties of Englishmen by accepting compulsory military service without full civil rights for the soldier⁠— Mitchener Rot. Balsquith —I said that no British officer would be capable of abusing the authority with which it was absolutely necessary to invest him. Mitchener Quite right. Balsquith That carried the House;⁠— Mitchener Naturally. Balsquith —and the feeling was that the Labor Party were soulless cads. Mitchener So they are. Balsquith And now comes this unmannerly young whelp Chubbs-Jenkinson, the only son of what they call a soda king, and orders a curate to lick his boots. And when the curate punches his head, you first sentence him to be shot; and then make a great show of clemency by commuting it to a flogging. What did you expect the curate to do? Mitchener Throwing down his pen and his letters and jumping up to confront Balsquith. His duty was perfectly simple. He should have obeyed the order; and then laid his complaint against the officer in proper form. He would have received the fullest satisfaction. Balsquith What satisfaction? Mitchener Chubbs-Jenkinson would have been reprimanded. In fact, he was reprimanded. Besides, the man was thoroughly insubordinate. You can’t deny that the very first thing he did when they took him down after flogging him was to walk up to Chubbs-Jenkinson and break his jaw. That showed there was no use flogging him; so now he will get two years hard labor; and serve him right! Balsquith I bet you a guinea he won’t get even a week. I bet you another that Chubbs-Jenkinson apologizes abjectly. You evidently haven’t heard the news. Mitchener What news? Balsquith It turns out that the curate is well connected. Mitchener staggers at the shock. He reels into his chair and buries his face in his hands over the blotter. Balsquith continues remorselessly, stooping over him to rub it in. He has three aunts in the peerage; Lady Richmond’s one of them; Mitchener punctuates these announcements with heartrending groans and