Pygmalion (By George Bernard Shaw)
ACT I
Covent Garden at 11.15 p.m. Torrents of heavy summer rain. Cab whistles blowing frantically in all directions. Pedestrians running for shelter into the market and under the portico of St. Paul's Church, where there are already several people, among them a lady and her daughter in evening dress. They are all peering out gloomily at the rain, except one man with his back turned to the rest, who seems wholly preoccupied with a notebook in which he is writing busily.
The church clock strikes the first quarter.
THE DAUGHTER
[in the space between the central pillars, close to the one on her left] I'm getting chilled to the bone. What can Freddy be doing all this time? Hes been gone twenty minutes.
THE MOTHER
[On her daughter's right] Not so long. But he ought to have got us a cab by this.
A BYSTANDER
[on the lady's right] He wont get no cab not until half-past eleven, missus, when they come back after dropping their theatre fares.
THE MOTHER
But we must have a cab. We cant stand here until half-past eleven. It's too bad.
THE BYSTANDER
Well, it aint my fault, missus.
THE DAUGHTER
If Freddy had a bit of gumption, he would have got one at the theatre door.
THE MOTHER
What could he have done, poor boy?
THE DAUGHTER
Other people got cabs. Why couldnt he?
Freddy rushes in out of the rain from the Southampton Street side, and comes between them closing a dripping umbrella. He is a young man of twenty, in evening dress, very wet around the ankles.
THE DAUGHTER
Well, havnt you got a cab?
FREDDY
Theres not one to be had for love or money.
THE MOTHER
Oh, Freddy, there must be one. You cant have tried.
THE DAUGHTER
It's too tiresome. Do you expect us to go and get one ourselves?
FREDDY
I tell you theyre all engaged. The rain was so sudden: nobody was prepared; and everybody had to take a cab. Ive been to Charing Cross one way and nearly to Ludgate Circus the other; and they were all engaged.
THE MOTHER
Did you try Trafalgar Square?
FREDDY
There wasnt one at Trafalgar Square.
THE DAUGHTER
Did you try?
FREDDY
I tried as far as Charing Cross Station. Did you expect me to walk to Hammersmith?
THE DAUGHTER
You havnt tried at all.
THE MOTHER
You really are very helpless, Freddy. Go again; and dont come back until you have found a cab.
FREDDY
I shall simply get soaked for nothing.
THE DAUGHTER
And what about us? Are we to stay here all night in this draught, with next to nothing on. You selfish pig--
FREDDY
Oh, very well: I'll go, I'll go. [He opens his umbrella and dashes off Strandwards, but comes into collision with a flower girl, who is hurrying in for shelter, knocking her basket out of her hands. A blinding flash of lightning, followed instantly by a rattling peal of thunder, orchestrates the incident].
THE FLOWER GIRL
Nah then, Freddy: look wh' y' gowin, deah.
FREDDY
Sorry [he rushes off].
THE FLOWER GIRL
[picking up her scattered flowers and replacing them in the basket] Theres menners f' yer! Te-oo banches o voylets trod into the mad. [She sits down on the plinth of the column, sorting her flowers, on the lady's right. She is not at all an attractive person. She is perhaps eighteen, perhaps twenty, hardly older. She wears a little sailor hat of black straw that has long been exposed to the dust and soot of London and has seldom if ever been brushed. Her hair needs washing rather badly: its mousy color can hardly be natural. She wears a shoddy black coat that reaches nearly to her knees and is shaped to her waist. She has a brown skirt with a coarse apron. Her boots are much the worse for wear. She is no doubt as clean as she can afford to be; but compared to the ladies she is very dirty. Her features are no worse than theirs; but their condition leaves something to be desired; and she needs the services of a dentist].
THE MOTHER
How do you know that my son's name is Freddy, pray?
THE FLOWER GIRL
Ow, eez ye-ooa san, is e? Wal, fewd dan y' de-ooty bawmz a mather should, eed now bettern to spawl a pore gel's flahrzn than ran awy athaht pyin. Will ye-oo py me f'them? [Here, with apologies, this desperate attempt to represent her dialect without a phonetic alphabet must be abandoned as unintelligible outside London.]
THE DAUGHTER
Do nothing of the sort, mother. The idea!
THE MOTHER
Please allow me, Clara. Have you any pennies?
THE DAUGHTER
No. I've nothing smaller than sixpence.
THE FLOWER GIRL
[hopefully] I can give you change for a tanner, kind lady.
THE MOTHER
[to Clara] Give it to me. [Clara parts reluctantly]. Now [to the girl] This is for your flowers.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Thank you kindly, lady.
THE DAUGHTER
Make her give you the change. These things are only a penny a bunch.
THE MOTHER
Do hold your tongue, Clara. [To the girl]. You can keep the change.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Oh, thank you, lady.
THE MOTHER
Now tell me how you know that young gentleman's name.
THE FLOWER GIRL
I didnt.
THE MOTHER
I heard you call him by it. Dont try to deceive me.
THE FLOWER GIRL
[protesting] Whos trying to deceive you? I called him Freddy or Charlie same as you might yourself if you was talking to a stranger and wished to be pleasant. [She sits down beside her basket].
THE DAUGHTER
Sixpence thrown away! Really, mamma, you might have spared Freddy that. [She retreats in disgust behind the pillar].
An elderly gentleman of the amiable military type rushes into shelter, and closes a dripping umbrella. He is in the same plight as Freddy, very wet about the ankles. He is in evening dress, with a light overcoat. He takes the place left vacant by the daughter's retirement.
THE GENTLEMAN
Phew!
THE MOTHER
[to the gentleman] Oh, sir, is there any sign of its stopping?
THE GENTLEMAN
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