epub:type="z3998:persona">Burge-Lubin
What earthly interest is there in looking at a moving picture of a lot of people merely because they were drowned? If they had had any sense, they would not have been drowned, probably.
Confucius
That is not so. It has never been noticed before; but the Record Office has just made two remarkable discoveries about the public men and women who have displayed extraordinary ability during the past century. One is that they retained unusual youthfulness up to an advanced age. The other is that they all met their death by drowning.
Burge-Lubin
Yes: I know. Can you explain it?
Confucius
It cannot be explained. It is not reasonable. Therefore I do not believe it.
The Accountant General rushes in, looking ghastly. He staggers to the middle of the table.
Burge-Lubin
What’s the matter? Are you ill?
Barnabas
Choking. No. I—He collapses into the middle chair. I must speak to you in private.
Confucius calmly withdraws.
Burge-Lubin
What on earth is it? Have some oxygen.
Barnabas
I have had some. Go to the Record Office. You will see men fainting there again and again, and being revived with oxygen, as I have been. They have seen with their own eyes as I have.
Burge-Lubin
Seen what?
Barnabas
Seen the Archbishop of York.
Burge-Lubin
Well, why shouldn’t they see the Archbishop of York? What are they fainting for? Has he been murdered?
Barnabas
No: he has been drowned.
Burge-Lubin
Good God! Where? When? How? Poor fellow!
Barnabas
Poor fellow! Poor thief! Poor swindler! Poor robber of his country’s Exchequer! Poor fellow indeed! Wait till I catch him.
Burge-Lubin
How can you catch him when he is dead? You’re mad.
Barnabas
Dead! Who said he was dead?
Burge-Lubin
You did. Drowned.
Barnabas
Exasperated. Will you listen to me? Was old Archbishop Haslam, the present man’s last predecessor but four, drowned or not?
Burge-Lubin
I don’t know. Look him up in the Encyclopedia Britannica.
Barnabas
Yah! Was Archbishop Stickit, who wrote Stickit on the Psalms, drowned or not?
Burge-Lubin
Yes, mercifully. He deserved it.
Barnabas
Was President Dickenson drowned? Was General Bullyboy drowned?
Burge-Lubin
Who is denying it?
Barnabas
Well, we’ve had moving pictures of all four put on the screen today for this American; and they and the Archbishop are the same man. Now tell me I am mad.
Burge-Lubin
I do tell you you are mad. Stark raving mad.
Barnabas
Am I to believe my own eyes or am I not?
Burge-Lubin
You can do as you please. All I can tell you is that I don’t believe your eyes if they can’t see any difference between a live archbishop and two dead ones. The apparatus rings, he holds the button down. Yes?
The Woman’s Voice
The Archbishop of York, to see the President.
Barnabas
Hoarse with rage. Have him in. I’ll talk to the scoundrel.
Burge-Lubin
Releasing the button. Not while you are in this state.
Barnabas
Reaching furiously for his button and holding it down. Send the Archbishop in at once.
Burge-Lubin
If you lose your temper, Barnabas, remember that we shall be two to one.
The Archbishop enters. He has a white band round his throat, set in a black stock. He wears a sort of kilt of black ribbons, and soft black boots that button high up on his calves. His costume does not differ otherwise from that of the President and the Accountant General; but its color scheme is black and white. He is older than the Reverend Bill Haslam was when he wooed Miss Savvy Barnabas; but he is recognizably the same man. He does not look a day over fifty, and is very well preserved even at that; but his boyishness of manner is quite gone: he now has complete authority and self-possession: in fact the President is a little afraid of him; and it seems quite natural and inevitable that he should speak fast.
The Archbishop
Good day, Mr. President.
Burge-Lubin
Good day, Mr. Archbishop. Be seated.
The Archbishop
Sitting down between them. Good day, Mr. Accountant General.
Barnabas
Malevolently. Good day to you. I have a question to put to you, if you don’t mind.
The Archbishop
Looking curiously at him, jarred by his uncivil tone. Certainly. What is it?
Barnabas
What is your definition of a thief?
The Archbishop
Rather an old-fashioned word, is it not?
Barnabas
It survives officially in my department.
The Archbishop
Our departments are full of survivals. Look at my tie! my apron! my boots! They are all mere survivals; yet it seems that without them I cannot be a proper Archbishop.
Barnabas
Indeed! Well, in my department the word thief survives, because in the community the thing thief survives. And a very despicable and dishonorable thing he is, too.
The Archbishop
Coolly. I daresay.
Barnabas
In my department, sir, a thief is a person who lives longer than the statutory expectation of life entitles him to, and goes on drawing public money when, if he were an honest man, he would be dead.
The Archbishop
Then let me say, sir, that your department does not understand its own business. If you have miscalculated the duration of human life, that is not the fault of the persons whose longevity you have miscalculated. And if they continue to work and produce, they pay their way, even if they live two or three centuries.
Barnabas
I know nothing about their working and producing. That is not the business of my department. I am concerned with their expectation of life; and I say that no man has any right to go on living and drawing money when he ought to be dead.
The Archbishop
You do not comprehend the relation between income and production.
Barnabas
I understand my own department.
The Archbishop
That is not enough. Your department is part of a synthesis which embraces all the departments.
Burge-Lubin
Synthesis! This is an intellectual difficulty. This is a job for Confucius. I heard him use that very word the other day; and I wondered what the devil he meant. Switching on. Hallo! Put me through to the Chief Secretary.
Confucius’s Voice
You are speaking to him.
Burge-Lubin
An intellectual difficulty, old man.
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