Arms and the Man George Bernard Shaw (epub e ink reader .TXT) š
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- Author: George Bernard Shaw
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I donāt believe the first man is a coward. I believe he is a hero!
Man
Goodhumoredly. Thatās what youād have said if youād seen the first man in the charge today.
Raina
Breathless. Ah, I knew it! Tell meā ātell me about him.
Man
He did it like an operatic tenorā āa regular handsome fellow, with flashing eyes and lovely moustache, shouting a war-cry and charging like Don Quixote at the windmills. We nearly burst with laughter at him; but when the sergeant ran up as white as a sheet, and told us theyād sent us the wrong cartridges, and that we couldnāt fire a shot for the next ten minutes, we laughed at the other side of our mouths. I never felt so sick in my life, though Iāve been in one or two very tight places. And I hadnāt even a revolver cartridgeā ānothing but chocolate. Weād no bayonetsā ānothing. Of course, they just cut us to bits. And there was Don Quixote flourishing like a drum major, thinking heād done the cleverest thing ever known, whereas he ought to be courtmartialled for it. Of all the fools ever let loose on a field of battle, that man must be the very maddest. He and his regiment simply committed suicideā āonly the pistol missed fire, thatās all.
Raina
Deeply wounded, but steadfastly loyal to her ideals. Indeed! Would you know him again if you saw him?
Man
Shall I ever forget him. She again goes to the chest of drawers. He watches her with a vague hope that she may have something else for him to eat. She takes the portrait from its stand and brings it to him.
Raina
That is a photograph of the gentlemanā āthe patriot and heroā āto whom I am betrothed.
Man
Looking at it. Iām really very sorry. Looking at her. Was it fair to lead me on? He looks at the portrait again. Yes: thatās him: not a doubt of it. He stifles a laugh.
Raina
Quickly. Why do you laugh?
Man
Shamefacedly, but still greatly tickled. I didnāt laugh, I assure you. At least I didnāt mean to. But when I think of him charging the windmills and thinking he was doing the finest thingā āChokes with suppressed laughter.
Raina
Sternly. Give me back the portrait, sir.
Man
With sincere remorse. Of course. Certainly. Iām really very sorry. She deliberately kisses it, and looks him straight in the face, before returning to the chest of drawers to replace it. He follows her, apologizing. Perhaps Iām quite wrong, you know: no doubt I am. Most likely he had got wind of the cartridge business somehow, and knew it was a safe job.
Raina
That is to say, he was a pretender and a coward! You did not dare say that before.
Man
With a comic gesture of despair. Itās no use, dear lady: I canāt make you see it from the professional point of view. As he turns away to get back to the ottoman, the firing begins again in the distance.
Raina
Sternly, as she sees him listening to the shots. So much the better for you.
Man
Turning. How?
Raina
You are my enemy; and you are at my mercy. What would I do if I were a professional soldier?
Man
Ah, true, dear young lady: youāre always right. I know how good you have been to me: to my last hour I shall remember those three chocolate creams. It was unsoldierly; but it was angelic.
Raina
Coldly. Thank you. And now I will do a soldierly thing. You cannot stay here after what you have just said about my future husband; but I will go out on the balcony and see whether it is safe for you to climb down into the street. She turns to the window.
Man
Changing countenance. Down that waterpipe! Stop! Wait! I canāt! I darenāt! The very thought of it makes me giddy. I came up it fast enough with death behind me. But to face it now in cold blood!ā āHe sinks on the ottoman. Itās no use: I give up: Iām beaten. Give the alarm. He drops his head in his hands in the deepest dejection.
Raina
Disarmed by pity. Come, donāt be disheartened. She stoops over him almost maternally: he shakes his head. Oh, you are a very poor soldierā āa chocolate cream soldier. Come, cheer up: it takes less courage to climb down than to face captureā āremember that.
Man
Dreamily, lulled by her voice. No, capture only means death; and death is sleepā āoh, sleep, sleep, sleep, undisturbed sleep! Climbing down the pipe means doing somethingā āexerting myselfā āthinking! Death ten times over first.
Raina
Softly and wonderingly, catching the rhythm of his weariness. Are you so sleepy as that?
Man
Iāve not had two hoursā undisturbed sleep since the war began. Iām on the staff: you donāt know what that means. I havenāt closed my eyes for thirty-six hours.
Raina
Desperately. But what am I to do with you.
Man
Staggering up. Of course I must do something. He shakes himself; pulls himself together; and speaks with rallied vigour and courage. You see, sleep or no sleep, hunger or no hunger, tired or not tired, you can always do a thing when you know it must be done. Well, that pipe must be got downā āHe hits himself on the chest, and adds,ā āDo you hear that, you chocolate cream soldier? He turns to the window.
Raina
Anxiously. But if you fall?
Man
I shall sleep as if the stones were a feather bed. Goodbye. He makes boldly for the window, and his hand is on the shutter when there is a terrible burst of firing in the street beneath.
Raina
Rushing to him. Stop! She catches him by the shoulder, and turns him quite round. Theyāll kill you.
Man
Coolly, but attentively. Never mind: this sort of thing is all in my dayās work. Iām bound to take my chance. Decisively. Now
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