SLADDER: I don't give a damn for classics; and I don't give a damn for Cambridge; and I don't know what a tripos is. But all I can tell you is that if I was fool enough to waste my time with classics, third wouldn't[2] be good enough for me. No, Mr. Hippanthigh, you've chosen the church as your job, and I've nothing to say against your choice; its a free country, and I've nothing to say against your job; it's well enough paid at the top, only you don't look like getting there. I chose business as my job, there seemed more sense in it; but if I'd chosen the Church, I shouldn't have stuck as a curate. No, nor a bishop either. I wouldn't have had an archbishop ballyragging me and ordering me about. No. I'd have got to the top, and drawn big pay, and spent it.
HIPPANTHIGH: But, Mr. Sladder, I could be a vicar to-morrow if my conscience would allow me to cease protesting against a certain point which the bishop holds to be--
SLADDER: I know all about that. I don't care what it is that keeps you on the bottom rung of the ladder. Conscience, you say. Well, it's a different thing with every man. It's conscience with some, drink with others, sheer stupidity with most. It's pretty crowded already, that bottom rung, without me going and putting my daughter on it. Where do you suppose I'd be now if I'd let my conscience get in my way? Eh?
HIPPANTHIGH: Mr. Sladder, I cannot alter my beliefs.
SLADDER: Nobody asks you to. I only ask you to leave the bishop alone. He says one thing and you preach another whenever you get half a chance; it's enough to break up any firm.
HIPPANTHIGH: Believing as I do that eternal punishment is incompatible with--
SLADDER: Now, Mr. Hippanthigh, that's got to stop. I don't mind saying, now that I've given you What For, that you don't seem a bad young fellow: but my daughter's not going to marry on the bottom rung, and there's an end of that.
HIPPANTHIGH: But, Mr. Sladder, can you bring yourself to believe in anything so terrible as eternal punishment, so contrary to--
SLADDER: Me? No.
HIPPANTHIGH: Then, how can you ask me to?
SLADDER: That particular belief never happened to stand between me and the top of the tree. Many things did, but they're all down below me now, Mr. Hippanthigh, way down there (pointing) where I can hardly see them. You get off that bottom rung as I did years ago.
HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot go back on all I've said.
SLADDER: I don't want to make it hard for you. Only just say you believe in eternal punishment, and then give up talking about it. You may say it to me if you like. We'll have one other person present so that there's no going back on it, my daughter if you like. I'll let the bishop know, and he won't stand in your way any longer, but at present you force his hand. It's you or the rules of the firm.
HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot.
SLADDER: You can't just say to me and my daughter that you believe in eternal punishment, and leave me to go over to Axminster and put it right with the bishop?
HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot say what I do not believe.
SLADDER: Think. The bishop probably doesn't believe it himself. But you've been forcing his hand,-going out of your way to.
HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot say it.
SLADDER (rising): Mr. Hippanthigh, there's two kinds of men, those that succeed, those that don't. I know no other kind. You ...
HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot go against my conscience.
SLADDER: I don't care what your reason is. You are the second kind. I am sorry my daughter ever loved a man of that sort. I am sorry a man of that sort ever entered my house. I was a little, dirty, ragged boy. You make me see what I would be to-day if I had been a man of your kind. I would be dirty and ragged still. (His voice has been rising during this speech.)
[Enter ERMYNTRUDE.
ERMYNTRUDE: Father! What are you saying, father? I heard such loud voices.
[HIPPANTHIGH stands silent and mournful.
SLADDER: My child, I had foolish ideas for you once, but now I say that you are to marry a man, not a wretched, miserable little curate, who will be a wretched, miserable little curate all his life.
ERMYNTRUDE: Father, I will not hear such words.
SLADDER: I've given him every chance. I've given him more than every chance, but he prefers the bottom rung of the ladder; there we will leave him.
ERMYNTRUDE: O, father! How can you be so cruel?
SLADDER: It's not my fault, and it's not the bishop's fault. It's his own silly pig-headedness.
[He goes back to his chair.
ERMYNTRUDE (going up to HIPPANTHIGH): O, Charlie, couldn't you do what father wants?
HIPPANTHIGH: No, no, I cannot. He wants me to go back on things I've said.
[Enter MRS. SLADDER carrying a wire cage, with two dead white mice in it. Also SPLURGE.
MRS. SLADDER[3]: O, the mice have died, John. The mice have died. O, Ermyntrude's poor mice! And father's great idea! Whatever shall we do?
SLADDER: Er? (Almost a groan) Eh? Died have they?
[SLADDER ages in his chair. You would say he was beaten. Suddenly he tautens up his muscles and stands up straight with shoulders back and clenched hands.
So they would beat Sladder, would they? They would beat Sladder. No, that has yet to be done. We'll go on, Splurge. The public shall eat Cheezo. It's a bit strong perhaps. We'll tone it down with bad nuts that they use for the other cheeses. We'll advertise it, and they'll eat it. See to it, Splurge. They don't beat Sladder.
MRS. SLADDER: O, I'm so glad. I'm so glad, John.
HIPPANTHIGH (suddenly with clear emphasis): I THINK I DO BELIEVE IN ETERNAL PUNISHMENT.
SLADDER: Ah. At last. Well, Ermyntrude, is your cruel old parent's blessing any use to you?
[He places one hand on her shoulder and one on HIPPANTHIGH'S.
MRS. SLADDER: Why, Ermyntrude! Well, I never! And to think of all this happening in one day!
[HIPPANTHIGH is completely beaten. ERMYNTRUDE is smiling at him. He puts an arm round her shoulder in dead silence.
CURTAIN.
A GOOD BARGAIN
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
BROTHER ANTONINUS.
BROTHER LUCULLUS SEVERUS.
BROTHER GREGORIUS PEDRO.
SATAN.
SMOGGS.
SCENE
A Crypt of a Monastery. BROTHER GREGORIUS PEDRO is seated on a stone bench reading. Behind him is a window.
Enter BROTHER LUCULLUS SEVERUS.
LUCULLUS SEVERUS: Brother, we may doubt no longer.
GREGORIUS PEDRO: Well?
LUCULLUS SEVERUS: It is certain. Certain.
GREGORIUS PEDRO: I too had thought so.
LUCULLUS SEVERUS: It is clear now, clear as ... It is certain.
GREGORIUS PEDRO: Well, why not? After all, why not?
LUCULLUS SEVERUS: You mean...?
GREGORIUS PEDRO: 'Tis but a miracle.
LUCULLUS SEVERUS: Yes, but ...
GREGORIUS PEDRO: But you did not think to see one?