Major Barbara Page #4

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to the Salvation Army to worship Barbara...

and nothing else.

And I quite appreciate the very clever way

in which you systematically humbugged me.

I found you out. Take

care Barbara doesn't.

- That's all.

- Don't give me away.

- [Mouths Words]

- Sarah, if you want to go, go.

Anything's better than to sit there as if

you wished you were a thousand miles away.

Very well, Mama.

- Mother, what's the matter?

- Nothing. Foolishness.

You can go with them, too, if

you like, and leave me alone.

Oh, you mustn't think that,

Mother. I don't like him.

The others do. That's the

injustice of a woman's lot.

A woman has to bring up her children.

That means to punish them, to

deny them things they want...

to do all the unpleasant things.

And then the father, who has nothing

to do but to pet them and spoil them...

comes in when all her work is done...

and steals their affection from her.

Have you ever saved a maker of cannons?

- No. Would you let me try?

- I'll make a bargain with you.

If I go to see you tomorrow

in your Salvation shelter...

will you come the day after

to see me in my cannon works?

Take care. It may end in your giving up the

cannons for the sake of the Salvation Army.

Are you sure it won't end in your

giving up the Salvation Army...

for the sake of my cannons?

- I'll take my chance of that.

- And I'll take my chance of the other.

- Where is your shelter?

- In Limehouse, at the sign of the cross.

Ask anybody in Chinatown.

Where are your works?

At Perivale St. Andrews,

at the sign of the sword.

Ask anybody in Europe.

## [Chord]

[Group] # Onward, Christian soldiers #

# Marching as to war #

# With the cross of Jesus #

# Going on before ##

## ["Onward, Christian Soldiers"]

[Boy] What ya, Major?

- Feeling better after your meal, sir?

- No. Call this a meal?

Good enough for you perhaps. What is

it to me, an intelligent working man?

- Working man?

- Yes.

[Laughing] What are you?

- Painter.

- Yes, I daresay.

- Yes. Three-10 a week, when I can

get it. - Why don't you go and get it?

Shall I tell you why?

'Cause I'm intelligent.

Yes, intelligent beyond the station of life into

which it has pleased the capitalists to call me.

- And they don't like a man

that sees through them. - Yeah.

And second, an intelligent human being

needs his due share of happiness...

so I drink something cruel

when I gets the chance.

Third, I stand up for me class

and do as little as I can...

so as to leave half the

job for me fellow workers.

And fourth, I'm fly enough to know what's

inside the law and what's outside it.

And inside it, I do as the capitalists

do... pinch what I can lay me hands on.

- What's your name?

- Price.

Bronterre O'Brien Price. Snobby

Price for short. What's yours?

- Rummy Mitchens, sir.

- Your health, Miss Mitchens.

Mrs. Mitchens. Mrs. Romola Mitchens.

What? Oh, Rummy, Rummy, Rummy.

Respectable married woman getting rescued by

the Salvation Army by pretending to be a bad 'un.

Oh, same old game.

But what was I to do? I can't starve.

These Salvation lasses

is dear, good girls...

but the better you are, the worse they like

to think you was afore they rescued you.

Why shouldn't they have their

bit of credit, the poor loves?

They're wore to rags by their work.

And where would they get

the money to rescue us...

if we was to let on that we

was no worse than other people?

- That's right.

- You know what ladies and gentlemen are.

Yeah. Thievin' swine.

I wouldn't say no to their job

though, Rummy, just the same.

Who saved you, Mr. Price?

Was it Major Barbara?

No. I come here on me own.

I'm going to be Bronterre O'Brien

Price, the converted painter.

I know what they like. I'm gonna tell

'em how I blasphemed and gambled...

and whopped me poor old mother.

- You used to beat your mother?

- Not likely. She used to beat me.

You come and listen to the converted painter,

and you'll hear how she was a pious woman...

that taught me me prayers at her knee...

and how I used to come

home blind drunk...

and drag her out of bed by her snow-white

hair and lay into her with a poker.

That's what's so unfair to us women.

- Your confessions is just

as big lies as ours is. - Yeah.

But you men could stand up and tell

your lies right out at the meeting...

and be made much of for it...

while the sort of

confessions we has to make...

has to be whispered

to one lady at a time.

- 'Tain't right, in spite of

all their piety. - Right?

Do you suppose the Salvation Army'd

be allowed if it went and did right?

Not much. It combs our hair and turns us into

good little blokes to be robbed and put upon.

But I can play the game

as good as any of'em.

I'll... I'll see somebody struck by

lightning or I'll hear a voice saying...

"Snobby Price, where

will you spend eternity?"

- Oh, I'll have a time of it,

I can tell you. - Mmm.

Come. Pluck up. You'll be all right.

Oh, poor old man. Cheer up, brother.

You'll find rest and

peace and happiness here.

Hurry up with the food,

miss. He's fair done.

- I shan't be long.

- Buck up, daddy.

She's gonna fetch you a nice, thick slice

of bread and scrape and a mug of sky blue.

Keep up your old heart. Never say die.

I ain't a old man. I'm only 49.

Why, that gray patch come

in my hair afore I was 30.

Am I to be turned out in the

street to starve for it...

and my job given to a younger man

what can't do it no better than I can?

Well, no good jawin' about it.

You're only a jumped-up, checked-off

hospital-turnout incurable of an old working man.

Who cares about you, eh?

You make the thieving swine

give you a square meal.

They've stolen plenty from you.

You get a bit of your own back.

Ah, there we are, brother.

Now, you ask her blessing and

tuck that into you. Go on. There.

Well, I... I never took nothing afore.

Oh, come, come. The Lord wasn't

above taking bread from his friends.

So why should you be?

Besides, when we find you a job,

you can pay us for it if you like.

Yes, miss. Yeah, that's

right. I... I can pay you back.

It's only a loan.

Well, Rummy, are you

more comfortable today?

Bless you, lovey. You fed my

body and saved my soul, didn't ya?

You look ready to drop.

- Sit down and rest a bit.

- Oh, not yet, Rummy.

There's more work than

we can do. I mustn't stop.

You'll try a prayer

for just two minutes.

You'll work all the better after.

Oh, isn't it wonderful how a

few minutes' prayer revives you?

I was quite light-headed

this morning, I was so tired.

But Major Barbara just sent

me to pray for five minutes...

and I was able to go on

as if I'd only just begun.

Did you have a piece

of bread, Mr. Price?

Yes, miss, but I got the

peace that I value more...

and that's the peace that

passeth all understanding.

Glory, hallelujah!

Oh, that makes me so happy. When you say

that, I feel wicked for loitering here.

Oh, I must get to work again.

- [Child] Ohl There you go. Hil Hil

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