heartbreak house-第12部分

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about　the　war　instead　of　two　pamphlets　on　it？　The　answer　is
significant。　You　cannot　make　war　on　war　and　on　your　neighbor　at
the　same　time。　War　cannot　bear　the　terrible　castigation　of
comedy；　the　ruthless　light　of　laughter　that　glares　on　the　stage。
When　men　are　heroically　dying　for　their　country；　it　is　not　the
time　to　show　their　lovers　and　wives　and　fathers　and　mothers　how
they　are　being　sacrificed　to　the　blunders　of　boobies；　the
cupidity　of　capitalists；　the　ambition　of　conquerors；　the
electioneering　of　demagogues；　the　Pharisaism　of　patriots；　the
lusts　and　lies　and　rancors　and　bloodthirsts　that　love　war　because
it　opens　their　prison　doors；　and　sets　them　in　the　thrones　of
power　and　popularity。　For　unless　these　things　are　mercilessly
exposed　they　will　hide　under　the　mantle　of　the　ideals　on　the
stage　just　as　they　do　in　real　life。

And　though　there　may　be　better　things　to　reveal；　it　may　not；　and
indeed　cannot；　be　militarily　expedient　to　reveal　them　whilst　the
issue　is　still　in　the　balance。　Truth　telling　is　not　compatible
with　the　defence　of　the　realm。　We　are　just　now　reading　the
revelations　of　our　generals　and　admirals；　unmuzzled　at　last　by
the　armistice。　During　the　war；　General　A；　in　his　moving
despatches　from　the　field；　told　how　General　B　had　covered　himself
with　deathless　glory　in　such　and　such　a　battle。　He　now　tells　us
that　General　B　came　within　an　ace　of　losing　us　the　war　by
disobeying　his　orders　on　that　occasion；　and　fighting　instead　of
running　away　as　he　ought　to　have　done。　An　excellent　subject　for
comedy　now　that　the　war　is　over；　no　doubt；　but　if　General　A　had
let　this　out　at　the　time；　what　would　have　been　the　effect　on
General　B's　soldiers？　And　had　the　stage　made　known　what　the　Prime
Minister　and　the　Secretary　of　State　for　War　who　overruled　General
A　thought　of　him；　and　what　he　thought　of　them；　as　now　revealed　in
raging　controversy；　what　would　have　been　the　effect　on　the
nation？　That　is　why　comedy；　though　sorely　tempted；　had　to　be
loyally　silent；　for　the　art　of　the　dramatic　poet　knows　no
patriotism；　recognizes　no　obligation　but　truth　to　natural
history；　cares　not　whether　Germany　or　England　perish；　is　ready　to
cry　with　Brynhild；　〃Lass'uns　verderben；　lachend　zu　grunde　geh'n〃
sooner　than　deceive　or　be　deceived；　and　thus　becomes　in　time　of
war　a　greater　military　danger　than　poison；　steel；　or
trinitrotoluene。　That　is　why　I　had　to　withhold　Heartbreak　House
from　the　footlights　during　the　war；　for　the　Germans　might　on　any
night　have　turned　the　last　act　from　play　into　earnest；　and　even
then　might　not　have　waited　for　their　cues。

June；　1919。



HEARTBREAK　HOUSE

ACT　I

The　hilly　country　in　the　middle　of　the　north　edge　of　Sussex；
looking　very　pleasant　on　a　fine　evening　at　the　end　of　September；
is　seen　through　the　windows　of　a　room　which　has　been　built　so　as
to　resemble　the　after　part　of　an　old…fashioned　high…pooped　ship；
with　a　stern　gallery；　for　the　windows　are　ship　built　with　heavy
timbering；　and　run　right　across　the　room　as　continuously　as　the
stability　of　the　wall　allows。　A　row　of　lockers　under　the　windows
provides　an　unupholstered　windowseat　interrupted　by　twin　glass
doors；　respectively　halfway　between　the　stern　post　and　the　sides。
Another　door　strains　the　illusion　a　little　by　being　apparently　in
the　ship's　port　side；　and　yet　leading；　not　to　the　open　sea；　but
to　the　entrance　hall　of　the　house。　Between　this　door　and　the
stern　gallery　are　bookshelves。　There　are　electric　light　switches
beside　the　door　leading　to　the　hall　and　the　glass　doors　in　the
stern　gallery。　Against　the　starboard　wall　is　a　carpenter's　bench。
The　vice　has　a　board　in　its　jaws；　and　the　floor　is　littered　with
shavings；　overflowing　from　a　waste…paper　basket。　A　couple　of
planes　and　a　centrebit　are　on　the　bench。　In　the　same　wall；
between　the　bench　and　the　windows；　is　a　narrow　doorway　with　a
half　door；　above　which　a　glimpse　of　the　room　beyond　shows　that　it
is　a　shelved　pantry　with　bottles　and　kitchen　crockery。

On　the　starboard　side；　but　close　to　the　middle；　is　a　plain　oak
drawing…table　with　drawing…board；　T…square；　straightedges；　set
squares；　mathematical　instruments；　saucers　of　water　color；　a
tumbler　of　discolored　water；　Indian　ink；　pencils；　and　brushes　on
it。　The　drawing…board　is　set　so　that　the　draughtsman's　chair　has
the　window　on　its　left　hand。　On　the　floor　at　the　end　of　the
table；　on　its　right；　is　a　ship's　fire　bucket。　On　the　port　side　of
the　room；　near　the　bookshelves；　is　a　sofa　with　its　back　to　the
windows。　It　is　a　sturdy　mahogany　article；　oddly　upholstered　in
sailcloth；　including　the　bolster；　with　a　couple　of　blankets
hanging　over　the　back。　Between　the　sofa　and　the　drawing…table　is
a　big　wicker　chair；　with　broad　arms　and　a　low　sloping　back；　with
its　back　to　the　light。　A　small　but　stout　table　of　teak；　with　a
round　top　and　gate　legs；　stands　against　the　port　wall　between　the
door　and　the　bookcase。　It　is　the　only　article　in　the　room　that
suggests　（not　at　all　convincingly）　a　woman's　hand　in　the
furnishing。　The　uncarpeted　floor　of　narrow　boards　is　caulked　and
holystoned　like　a　deck。

The　garden　to　which　the　glass　doors　lead　dips　to　the　south　before
the　landscape　rises　again　to　the　hills。　Emerging　from　the　hollow
is　the　cupola　of　an　observatory。　Between　the　observatory　and　the
house　is　a　flagstaff　on　a　little　esplanade；　with　a　hammock　on　the
east　side　and　a　long　garden　seat　on　the　west。

A　young　lady；　gloved　and　hatted；　with　a　dust　coat　on；　is　sitting
in　the　window…seat　with　her　body　twisted　to　enable　her　to　look
out　at　the　view。　One　hand　props　her　chin：　the　other　hangs　down
with　a　volume　of　the　Temple　Shakespeare　in　it；　and　her　finger
stuck　in　the　page　she　has　been　reading。

A　clock　strikes　six。

The　young　lady　turns　and　looks　at　her　watch。　She　rises　with　an
air　of　one　who　waits；　and　is　almost　at　the　end　of　her　patience。
She　is　a　pretty　girl；　slender；　fair；　and　intelligent　looking；
nicely　but　not　expensively　dressed；　evidently　not　a　smart　idler。

With　a　sigh　of　weary　resignation　she　comes　to　the　draughtsman's
chair；　sits　down；　and　begins　to　read　Shakespeare。　Presently　the
book　sinks　to　her　lap；　her　eyes　close；　and　she　dozes　into　a
slumber。

An　elderly　womanservant　comes　in　from　the　hall　with　three
unopened　bottles　of　rum　on　a　tray。　She　passes　through　and
disappears　in　the　pantry　without　noticing　the　young　lady。　She
places　the　bottles　on　the　shelf　and　fills　her　tray　with　empty
bottles。　As　she　returns　with　these；　the　young　lady　lets　her　book
drop；　awakening　herself；　and　startling　the　womanservant　so　that
she　all　but　lets　the　tray　fall。

THE　WOMANSERVANT。　God　bless　us！　＇The　young　lady　picks　up　the　book
and　places　it　on　the　table＇。　Sorry　to　wake　you；　miss；　I'm　sure；
but　you　are　a　stranger　to　me。　What　might　you　be　waiting　here　for
now？

THE　YOUNG　LADY。　Waiting　for　somebody　to　show　some　signs　of
knowing　that　I　have　been　invited　here。

THE　WOMANSERVANT。　Oh；　you're　invited；　are　you？　And　has　nobody
come？　Dear！　dear！

THE　YOUNG　LADY。　A　wild…looking　old　gentleman　came　and　looked　in
at　the　window；　and　I　heard　him　calling　out；　〃Nurse；　there　is　a
young　and　attractive　female　waiting　in　the　poop。　Go　and　see　what
she　wants。〃　Are　you　the　nurse？

TH