Pygmalion George Bernard Shaw (the mitten read aloud .txt) 📖

word about money? Higgins Throwing the book aside and marching down on Doolittle with a poser. What else did you come for? Doolittle Sweetly. Well, what would a man come for? Be human, governor. Higgins Disarmed. Alfred: did you put her up to it? Doolittle So help me, Governor, I never did. I take my Bible oath I ain’t seen the girl these two months past. Higgins Then how did you know she was here? Doolittle “Most musical, most melancholy.” I’ll tell you, Governor, if you’ll only let me get a word in. I’m willing to tell you. I’m wanting to tell you. I’m waiting to tell you. Higgins Pickering: this chap has a certain natural gift of rhetoric. Observe the rhythm of his native woodnotes wild. “I’m willing to tell you: I’m wanting to tell you: I’m waiting to tell you.” Sentimental rhetoric! That’s the Welsh strain in him. It also accounts for his mendacity and dishonesty. Pickering Oh, please, Higgins: I’m west country myself. To Doolittle. How did you know the girl was here if you didn’t send her? Doolittle It was like this, Governor. The girl took a boy in the taxi to give him a jaunt. Son of her landlady, he is. He hung about on the chance of her giving him another ride home. Well, she sent him back for her luggage when she heard you was willing for her to stop here. I met the boy at the corner of Long Acre and Endell Street. Higgins Public house. Yes? Doolittle The poor man’s club, Governor: why shouldn’t I? Pickering Do let him tell his story, Higgins. Doolittle He told me what was up. And I ask you, what was my feelings and my duty as a father? I says to the boy, “You bring me the luggage,” I says⁠— Pickering Why didn’t you go for it yourself? Doolittle Landlady wouldn’t have trusted me with it, Governor. She’s that kind of woman: you know. I had to give the boy a penny afore he trusted me with it, the little swine. I brought it to her just to oblige you like, and make myself agreeable. That’s all. Higgins How much luggage? Doolittle Musical instrument, Governor. A few pictures, a trifle of jewelry, and a birdcage. She said she didn’t want no clothes. What was I to think from that, Governor? I ask you as a parent what was I to think? Higgins So you came to rescue her from worse than death, eh? Doolittle Appreciatively: relieved at being understood. Just so, Governor. That’s right. Pickering But why did you bring her luggage if you intended to take her away? Doolittle Have I said a word about taking her away? Have I now? Higgins Determinedly. You’re going to take her away, double quick. He crosses to the hearth and rings the bell. Doolittle Rising. No, Governor. Don’t say that. I’m not the man to stand in my girl’s light. Here’s a career opening for her, as you might say; and⁠— Alfred opens the door and awaits orders. Higgins Mrs. Pearce: this is Eliza’s father. He has come to take her away. Give her to him. He goes back to the piano, with an air of washing his hands of the whole affair. Doolittle No. This is a misunderstanding. Listen here⁠— Mrs. Pearce He can’t take her away, Mr. Higgins: how can he? You told me to burn her clothes. Doolittle That’s right. I can’t carry the girl through the streets like a blooming monkey, can I? I put it to you. Higgins You have put it to me that you want your daughter. Take your daughter. If she has no clothes go out and buy her some. Doolittle Desperate. Where’s the clothes she come in? Did I burn them or did your missus here? Mrs. Pearce I am the housekeeper, if you please. I have sent for some clothes for your girl. When they come you can take her away. You can wait in the kitchen. This way, please. Doolittle, much troubled, accompanies her to the door; then hesitates; finally turns confidentially to Higgins. Doolittle Listen here, Governor. You and me is men of the world, ain’t we? Higgins Oh! Men of the world, are we? You’d better go, Mrs. Pearce. Mrs. Pearce I think so, indeed, sir. She goes, with dignity. Pickering The floor is yours, Mr. Doolittle. Doolittle To Pickering. I thank you, Governor. To Higgins, who takes refuge on the piano bench, a little overwhelmed by the proximity of his visitor; for Doolittle has a professional flavor of dust about him. Well, the truth is, I’ve taken a sort of fancy to you, Governor; and if you want the girl, I’m not so set on having her back home again but what I might be open to an arrangement. Regarded in the light of a young woman, she’s a fine handsome girl. As a daughter she’s not worth her keep; and so I tell you straight. All I ask is my rights as a father; and you’re the last man alive to expect me to let her go for nothing; for I can see you’re one of the straight sort, Governor. Well, what’s a five pound note to you? And what’s Eliza to me? He returns to his chair and sits down judicially. Pickering I think you ought to know, Doolittle, that Mr. Higgins’s intentions are entirely honorable. Doolittle Course they are, Governor. If I thought they wasn’t, I’d ask fifty. Higgins Revolted. Do you mean to say, you callous rascal, that you would sell your daughter for 50 pounds? Doolittle Not in a general way I wouldn’t; but to oblige a gentleman like you I’d do a good deal, I do assure you. Pickering Have you no morals, man? Doolittle Unabashed. Can’t afford them, Governor. Neither could you if you was as poor as me. Not that I mean any harm, you know. But if Liza is going to have a bit out of this, why not me too? Higgins Troubled. I don’t know what to do, Pickering. There can be no question that as a matter