Major Barbara Page #12

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Barbara will need more...

need it permanently...

because Adolphus hasn't any property.

Yes, my dear. I shall see to it.

Anything else? For yourself, for instance?

I want to talk to you about Stephen.

Don't, my dear. Stephen

doesn't interest me.

He does interest me!

- He's our son!

- Do you really think so?

Andrew, don't be aggravating and don't

be wicked! At present, you're both.

Do you pretend that Stephen

couldn't carry on the foundry...

just as well as all the other

sons of big business houses?

Yes, he could learn

the office routine...

without understanding the

business like all the other sons.

Stephen is a most steady,

capable, high-minded young man.

You're simply trying to find

an excuse for disinheriting him.

My dear, the Undershaft

tradition disinherits him.

But I must admit it's

landed me in a difficulty.

As you yourself remark, I'm getting on in

years and I haven't found a fit successor yet.

- There is Stephen.

- That's just it.

All the foundlings I can

find are exactly like Stephen.

I want a man with no

relations and no schooling.

That is, a man who would be out of the running

altogether if he weren't a strong man...

and I can't find him.

If you want to keep the business in the family,

you'd better find an eligible foundling...

and marry him to Barbara!

You would sacrifice Stephen to Barbara?

Cheerfully! Come, Biddy...

Don't call me Biddy!

I don't call you Andy!

And your tie's all on

one side. Put it straight.

- Oh, I... I beg your pardon.

- No, come in, Stephen.

- Good morning.

- Good morning.

I understand you want to

come into the cannon business.

I, go into trade?

Certainly not.

Cannons are not trade, Stephen.

They're a national enterprise.

I have no intention of becoming

a man of business in any sense.

I intend to devote myself to politics.

My dear boy, this is an

immense relief to me...

and I trust it may prove an

equally good thing for the country.

Stephen, I cannot allow you to throw

away an enormous property like this.

Mother, there must be an end of

treating me as a child, if you please.

Any further discussions had better take place

with my father as between one man and another.

- Stephen!

- I am sorry, Mother, that you have false...

I quite understand, Stephen.

By all means, go your own

way, if you feel strong enough.

You see, my dear, it's only the big

men who can be treated like children.

All right, Stephen, your independence

is achieved. You've won your latchkey.

Now, what about your future,

just between one man and another?

It's settled that you don't ask for

succession to the cannon business.

I hope it is settled that I

repudiate the cannon business.

My dear boy, don't be so devilish

sulky. Freedom should be generous.

Besides, I owe you a fair start in

life in exchange for disinheriting you.

You can't become prime

minister all at once, you know.

Haven't you a turn for something? What

about literature, art and so forth?

I have nothing of the artist about me,

either in faculty or character, thank heaven.

A philosopher, perhaps.

I make no such ridiculous pretension.

Just so. Well, then, there's the

army, the navy, the church and the bar.

The bar requires some ability.

What about the bar?

I'm afraid I haven't the necessary push.

I believe that is the name that barristers

give their vulgarity for success in pleading.

Rather a difficult case, Stephen.

Hardly anything left

but the stage, is there?

Well, is there anything

you know or care for?

I know the difference

between right and wrong.

You don't say so!

What? No capacity for business?

No knowledge of law?

No sympathy with art?

No pretension to philosophy.

Only a simple knowledge of the secret

that has baffled all the lawyers...

muddled all the men of business

and ruined most of the artists...

the secret of right and wrong.

Why, man, you're a geniusl

A master of mastersl

A god.

And at 28 too.

You are pleased to be facetious.

I pretend to nothing more than any honorable

Englishman claims as his birthright.

Oh, very well. Have it your own way.

You know nothing, and you

think you know everything.

That points clearly

to a political career.

We'll get you a private secretaryship to

someone who can get you an under-secretaryship...

and you'll find your natural

and proper place in the end...

on the treasury bench.

I'm sorry, sir, that you force me to

forget the respect due to you as my father.

I am an Englishman, and I will not hear

the government of my country insulted.

The government of your country.

I am the government of

your country. I and Lazarus.

Do you suppose that you and

half a dozen amateurs like you...

sitting in a row in that

foolish gabble shop...

can govern a country like England?

Be off with you, my boy, and

play with your historic parties...

and leading articles

and burning questions...

and the rest of your toys.

And in return, you shall have the

support and applause of my newspapers...

and the delight of imagining

that you're a great statesman.

Really, my dear Father...

it's quite impossible

to be angry with you.

I suppose it is natural for you to

think that money governs England...

but you must allow me

to think I know better.

And what does govern England, pray?

Character, Father, character.

Whose character? Yours or mine?

Neither yours nor mine, Father...

but the best elements in the

English national character.

Stephen, I've found

your profession for you!

You're a born journalist!

We must get you a job on the Times.

- M-M-Mother... - Don't

be apologetic, Stephen.

- Yes, but... - And don't forget

you've outgrown your mother.

Good morning, Morrison.

Shall we see you again this evening,

sir? I'll have your room ready for you.

No, by George!

You look a little pale, my dear.

I've made you unhappy, haven't I?

Do you understand

what you've done to me?

Yesterday I had a man's soul in my hand.

I set him in the way of life

with his face to salvation.

And when we took your money he turned

back again to drunkenness and derision.

I'll never forgive you that. Never.

Does my daughter despair so easily?

Can you strike a man to the

heart and leave no mark on him?

You forget, my dear, Bill Walker spat

in Todger's eye to save his honor.

He gave up his hard-earned

pound to save his soul.

Do you know what a pound

means to such a man?

It's your faith that's failing, not his.

Will he ever strike a woman

again as he struck Jenny Hill?

You've sent him on the

road to his salvation.

It may not be your road,

but he won't turn back.

Oh, yes, you're right.

He can never be lost now.

Where was my faith?

[Cusins] Oh, clever, clever devil.

You may be a devil, but God

speaks through you sometimes.

You've given me back my happiness

and I can feel it deep down now...

though my spirit is troubled.

You've learnt something, my dear. That always

feels, at first, as if you'd lost something.

What have Barbara and I got to do with your

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