The cellar in Oldfield Road is at once workroom, shop, and living-room. It is entered from the R. corner by a door at the top of a flight of some seven stairs. Its three windows are high up at the back—not shop windows, but simply to give light. Each window has on it "William Mossop, Practical Bootmaker," reversed as seen from the inside and is illuminated dimly from outside by a neighbouring street lamp.
A door L. leads to the bedroom. Up stage L. is a small screen or partition whose purpose is to conceal the sink. A shoemaker's bench, leather and tackle are against the wall, R., above the fire-place. Below the door, L., is a small dresser. Table R. C. Seating accommodation consists solely of the sofa and the two chairs taken from HOBSON'S, now repaired. The sofa is L. of the table, the two chairs R. Crowded on the sofa are, in order, from down up, ALBERT, ALICE, VICKEY, FRED.
As the curtain rises, the four are standing, tea-cups in hand, saying together "The Bride and Bridegroom." They drink and sit. General laughter and conversation. On the chair down stage is MAGGIE. From the other chair, C., behind table, WILL rises, nervously, and rushes his little speech like a child who has learnt a lesson. The table has hot-house flowers (in a basin) and the remains of a meal at which tea only has been drunk, and the feast is represented by the sections of a large pork pie and a small wedding cake. As WILL rises, ALBERT hammers on the table.
ALICE suppresses him. WILLIE. It's a very great pleasure to us to see you here to-night. It's an honour you do us, and I assure you, speaking for my—my wife, as well as for myself, that the—the—
MAGGIE (in an undertone). Generous.
WILLIE. Oh, aye. That's it. That the generous warmth of the sentiments so cordially expressed by Mr. Beenstock and so enthusiastically seconded by—no, I've gotten that wrong road round—expressed by Mr. Prosser and seconded by Mr. Beenstock—will never be forgotten by either my life partner or self—and—and I'd like to drink this toast to you in my own house. Our guests, and may they all be married soon themselves.
MAGGIE (rising and drinking with WILL). Our guests.
(WILL and MAGGIE sit. General laughter and conversation.)
ALBERT (solemnly rising). In rising to respond—
ALICE (tugging his coat and putting him into his seat). Sit down. We've had enough of speeches. I know men fancy themselves when they're talking, but you've had one turn and you needn't start again.
ALBERT. But we ought to thank him, Alice.
ALICE. I dare say. But you'll not speak as well as he did, so we can leave it with a good wind-up. I'm free to own you took me by surprise, Will.
FREDDY. Very neat speech indeed. (Rising.)
VICKEY. Who taught you, Will?
WILLIE. I've been learning a lot lately.
ALICE. I thought that speech never came natural from Will.
MAGGIE. I'm educating him.
FREDDY. Very apt pupil, I must say.
MAGGIE. He'll do. Another twenty years and I know which of you three men 'ull be thought most of at the Bank.
FREDDY. That's looking ahead a bit.
MAGGIE. I'll admit it needs imagination to see it now.
ALBERT (rising and moving slightly C.). Well, the start's all right, you know. Snug little rooms. Shop of your own. And so on. I was wondering where you raised the capital for this, Maggie.
MAGGIE. I? You mustn't call it my shop. It's his.
ALICE. Do you mean to tell me that Willie found the capital?
MAGGIE. He's the saving sort.
ALICE. He must be if you've done this out of what father used to pay him.
MAGGIE. Well, we haven't. Not altogether. We've had help.
ALBERT. Ah!
VICKEY. It's a mystery to me where you got it from.
MAGGIE. Same place as those flowers, Albert.
ALBERT. Hot-house flowers, I see. (He rises and examines them.) I was wondering where they came from.
(VICKEY and FREDDY smell flowers.)
MAGGIE. Same place as the money, Albert.
ALBERT. Ah!
ALICE (rising and following him, C.). Well, I think we ought to be getting home, Maggie.
MAGGIE (rising, as do the rest. VICKEY and FREDDY move up stage). I shouldn't marvel. I reckon Tubby's a bit tired of looking after the shop by now, and if father's wakened up and come in—
ALICE. That's it. I'm a bit nervous.
MAGGIE. He'll have an edge on his temper. Come and put your hats on.
(She is going L., with ALICE and VICKEY, then stops.)
Willie, we'll need this table when they're gone. You'd better be clearing the pots away.
WILLIE (by table, R.) Yes, Maggie.
(MAGGIE turns to L.)
FREDDY. But—you—
ALBERT. Oh, Lord!
(They laugh.)
MAGGIE (quite calmly). And you and Fred can just lend him a hand with the washing up, Albert.
FREDDY. Me wash pots!
VICKEY (really outraged). Maggie, we're guests.
MAGGIE. I know. Only Albert laughed at Willie, and washing up 'ull maybe make him think on that it's not allowed.
(She ushers ALICE and VICKEY out, L., and follows. WILLIE begins to put pots on tray which he gets from behind screen, up L.)
ALBERT (after he and FRED have looked at each other, then at WILL, then at each other again). Are you going to wash up pots?
FREDDY. Are you?
ALBERT. I look at it like this myself. All being well, you and I are marrying into this family and we know what Maggie is. If we start giving in to her now, she'll be a nuisance to us all our lives.
FREDDY. That's right enough, but there's this plan of hers to get us married. Are you prepared to work it for us?
ALBERT. I'm not. Anything but—
FREDDY. Then till she's done it we're to keep the sweet side of Maggie.
ALBERT. But, washing pots! (Moves down L.)
(There is a pause. They look at WILL, who has brought the tray from behind the screen and is now clearing up the table.)
FREDDY. What would you do in our place, Will?
WILLIE. Please yourselves. I'm getting on with what she told me.
FREDDY. You're married to her. We aren't.
ALBERT. What do you need the table for in such a hurry?
WILLIE; Nay, I'm not in any hurry myself.
FREDDY. Maggie wants it for something.
WILLIE. It'll be for my lessons, I reckon. She's schooling me.
FREDDY. And don't you want to learn, then?
WILLIE (moves C.). 'Tisn't that. I—just don't want to be rude to you—turning you out so early. I don't see you need to go away so soon. (Crosses below table.)
ALBERT. Why not?
WILLIE. I'm fond of a bit of company.
ALBERT. Do you want company on your wedding night?
WILLIE. I don't favour your going so soon. (Crosses C. again.)
FREDDY. He's afraid to be alone with her. That's what it is. He's shy of his wife.
(They laugh.)
WILLIE. That's a fact. I've not been married before, you see. I've not been left alone with her, either. Up to now she's been coming round to where I lodged at Tubby Wadlow's to give me my lessons. It's different now, and I freely own I'm feeling awkward-like. I'd be deeply obliged if you would stay on a bit to help to—to thaw the ice for me.
FREDDY. You've been engaged to her, haven't you?
WILLIE. Aye, but it weren't for long. And you see, Maggie's not the sort you get familiar with.
FREDDY. You had quite long enough to thaw the ice. It's not our job to do your melting for you. (Moves away R.)
ALBERT. No. Fred, these pots need washing. We will wash them.
(ALBERT carries tray behind screen. Water runs. He is seen flourishing towels. FRED is following when WILLIE calls him back and takes tray to table.)
WILLIE. Fred, would you like it yourself with—with a wench like Maggie? (Goes R. C.)
FREDDY. That's not the point. It wasn't me she married.
WILLIE. It's that being alone with her that worries me, and I did think you'd stand by a fellow man to make things not so strange at first.
ALBERT (coming down, with a dishcloth). That's not the way we look at it. Hurry up with those cups, Fred. (Goes to FRED up stage R.)
(MAGGIE enters with VICKEY and ALICE in outdoor clothes.)
MAGGIE. Have you broken anything yet, Albert?
ALBERT (indignantly). Broken? No. (Takes cup from tray and wipes it.)
MAGGIE. Too slow to, I expect.
FREDDY. I must say you don't show much gratitude.
ALBERT. Aren't you at all surprised to find us doing this?
MAGGIE. Surprised? I told you to do it.
FREDDY. Yes, but—(Takes tray up stage, L.)
MAGGIE (taking towel from him). You can stop now. I'll finish when you're gone. (Moves down R.)
(Knock at door upstairs, R.)
ALICE. Who's that?
MAGGIE. Some one who can't read, I reckon. You hung that card on door, Will?
WILLIE. Aye, it's there. And you wrote it, Maggie.
MAGGIE. I knew better than to trust to you. "Business suspended for the day" it says, and they that can't read it can go on knocking.
HOBSON (off R. upstairs, after another knock). Are you in, Maggie?
VICKEY (terrified). It's father!
(General consternation.)
ALBERT. Oh, Lord!
MAGGIE. What's the matter? Are you afraid of him?
FREDDY. Well, I think, all things considered, and seeing—
MAGGIE. All right. We'll consider 'em. You can go into the bedroom, the lot of you.... No, not you, Willie. The rest. I'll shout when I want you.
ALICE. When he's gone.
MAGGIE. It'll be before he's gone.
(MAGGIE crosses to L. with them.)
VICKEY. But we don't want—
MAGGIE. Is this your house or mine?
VICKEY. It's your cellar.
MAGGIE. And I'm in charge of it.
(The four go into bedroom. VICKEY starts to argue. ALBERT opens the door. VICKEY and ALICE go out followed by FREDDY and ALBERT. VICKEY is pushed inside. WILL is going to stairs.) You sit you still, and don't forget you're gaffer here. I'll open door. (WILLIE sits in chair above table. MAGGIE goes upstairs and opens the door. Enter HOBSON to top stair.)
HOBSON (with some slight apology). Well, Maggie.
MAGGIE (uninvitingly). Well, father.
HOBSON (without confidence). I'll come in.
MAGGIE (standing in his way). Well, I don't know. I'll have to ask the master about that.
HOBSON. Eh? The master?
MAGGIE. You and him didn't part on the best of terms, you know. (Over the railings.) Will, it's my father. Is he to come in?
WILLIE (loudly and boldly). Aye, let him come.
(HOBSON comes downstairs. MAGGIE closes door behind him and follows. HOBSON stares round at the cellar.)
HOBSON. You don't sound cordial about your invitation, young man.
WILLIE (rises and goes C.). Nay, but I am. (Shaking hands for a long time.) I'm right down glad to see you, Mr. Hobson. (MAGGIE comes down R.) It makes the wedding-day complete-like, you being her father and I—I hope you'll see your way to staying a good long while.
HOBSON. Well—
MAGGIE. That's enough, Will. You don't need to overdo it. You can sit down for five minutes, father. That sofa 'ull bear your weight. It's been tested.
(HOBSON sits on sofa, R. C. WILLIE goes back to the chair, R.)
WILLIE (taking up teapot). There's nobbut tea to drink and I reckon what's in the pot is stewed, so I'll—
MAGGIE (taking pot off him as he moves to fire-place with it). You'll not do owt of sort. Father likes his liquids strong.
WILLIE (down R. of table). A piece of pork pie now, Mr. Hobson?
HOBSON (groaning). Pork pie!
MAGGIE (sharply). You'll be sociable now you're here, I hope. (She pours tea at table, top end.)
HOBSON. It wasn't sociability that brought me, Maggie.
MAGGIE. What was it, then?
HOBSON. Maggie, I'm in disgrace. A sore and sad misfortune's fallen on me.
MAGGIE (cutting). Happen a piece of wedding cake 'ull do you good.
HOBSON (shuddering). It's sweet.
MAGGIE. That's natural in cake.
(MAGGIE sits in chair above table.)
HOBSON. I've gotten such a head.
MAGGIE. Aye. But wedding cake's a question of heart. There'd be no bride cakes made at all if we thought first about our heads. I'm quite aware it's foolishness, but I've a wish to see my father sitting at my table eating my wedding cake on my wedding-day.
HOBSON. It's a very serious thing I came about, Maggie.
MAGGIE. It's not more serious than knowing that you wish us well.
HOBSON. Well, Maggie, you know my way. When a thing's done it's done. You've had your way and done what you wanted. I'm none proud of the choice you made and I'll not lie and say I am, but I've shaken your husband's hand, and that's a sign for you. The milk's spilt and I'll not cry.
MAGGIE (holding plate). Then there's your cake, and you can eat it.
HOBSON. I've given you my word there's no ill feeling. (Pushes cake away.)
MAGGIE. So now we'll have the deed. (Pushes it back.)
HOBSON. You're a hard woman. (He eats.) You've no consideration for the weakness of old age.
MAGGIE. Finished?
HOBSON. Pass me that tea.
(She passes: he drinks.)
That's easier.
MAGGIE. Now tell me what it is you came about?
HOBSON. I'm in sore trouble, Maggie.
MAGGIE (rising and going towards door, L.). Then I'll leave you with my husband to talk it over.
HOBSON. Eh?
MAGGIE. You'll not be wanting me. Women are only in your way.
HOBSON (rising and going C.). Maggie, you re not going to desert me in the hour of my need, are you?
MAGGIE. Surely to goodness you don't want a woman to help you after all you've said! Will 'ull do his best, I make no doubt. (She goes towards door.) Give me a call when you've finished, Will.
HOBSON (following her). Maggie! It's private.
MAGGIE. Why, yes. I'm going and you can discuss it man to man with no fools of women about.
HOBSON. I tell you I've come to see you, not him. It's private from him.
MAGGIE. Private from Will? Nay, it isn't. Will's in the family—(comes back a little),—and you've nowt to say to me that can't be said to him.
HOBSON. I've to tell you this with him there?
MAGGIE. Will and me's one.
WILLIE. Sit down, Mr. Hobson.
MAGGIE. You call him father now.
WILLIE (astonished). Do I?
HOBSON. Does he?
MAGGIE. He does. Sit down, Will.
(WILL sits right of table. MAGGIE stands at the head of the table. HOBSON sits on sofa.)
Now, if you're ready, father, we are. What's the matter?
HOBSON. That—(producing the blue paper)—that's the matter.
(MAGGIE accepts and passes it to WILL and goes behind his chair. He is reading upside down. She bends over chair and turns it right way up.)
MAGGIE. What is it, Will?
HOBSON (banging table). Ruin, Maggie, that's what it is! Ruin and bankruptcy. Am I vicar's warden at St. Philip's or am I not? Am I Hobson of Hobson's Boot Shop on Chapel Street, Salford? Am I a respectable ratepayer and the father of a family or—
MAGGIE (who has been reading over WILL'S shoulder). It's an action for damages for trespass, I see.
HOBSON. It's a stab in the back, it's an unfair, un-English, cowardly way of taking a mean advantage of a casual accident.
MAGGIE. Did you trespass?
HOBSON. Maggie, I say it solemnly, it is all your fault. I had an accident. I don't deny it. I'd been in the "Moonraker's" and I'd stayed too long. And why? Why did I stay too long? To try to forget that I'd a thankless child, to erase from the tablets of memory the recollection of your conduct. That was the cause of it. And the result, the blasting, withering result? I fell into that cellar. I slept in that cellar and I awoke to this catastrophe. Lawyers... law-costs... publicity... ruin.
MAGGIE (moving round table to C.). I'm still asking you. Was it an accident? Or did you trespass?
HOBSON. It's an accident. As plain as Salford Town Hall it's an accident, but they that live by law have twisted ways of putting things that make white show as black. I'm in their grip at last. I've kept away from lawyers all my life, I've hated lawyers, and they've got their chance to make me bleed for it. I've dodged them, and they've caught me in the end. They'll squeeze me dry for it.
WILLIE. My word, and that's summat like a squeeze and all.
(HOBSON stares at him.)
MAGGIE. I can see it's serious. I shouldn't wonder if you didn't lose some trade from this.
HOBSON. Wonder! (Rising and moving C.) It's as certain as Christmas. My good-class customers are not going to buy their boots from a man who's stood up in open court and had to acknowledge he was overcome at 12 o'clock in the morning. They'll not remember it was private grief that caused it all. They'll only think the worse of me because I couldn't control my daughter better than to let her go and be the cause of sorrow to me in my age. That's what you've done. Brought this on me, you two, between you.
WILLIE. Do you think it will get into the paper, Maggie?
MAGGIE. Yes, for sure. You'll see your name in the Salford Reporter, father.
HOBSON. Salford Reporter! Yes, and more. When there is ruin and disaster, and outrageous fortune overwhelms a man of my importance to the world, it isn't only the Salford Reporter that takes note of it. This awful cross that's come to me will be recorded in the Manchester Guardian for the whole of Lancashire to read.
WILLIE. Eh, by gum, think of that! To have your name appearing in the Guardian! Why, it's very near worth while to be ruined for the pleasure of reading about yourself in a printed paper.
HOBSON (sits sofa). It's there for others to read besides me, my lad.
WILLIE. Aye, you're right. I didn't think of that. This 'ull give a lot of satisfaction to a many I could name. Other people's troubles is mostly what folks read the paper for, and I reckon it's twice the pleasure to them when it's trouble of a man they know themselves. (He is perfectly simple and has no malicious intention.)
HOBSON. To hear you talk it sounds like a pleasure to you.
WILLIE (sincerely). Nay, it's not. You've ate my wedding cake and you've shook my hand. We're friends, I hope, and I were nobbut meditating like a friend. I always think it's best to look on the worst side of things first, then whatever chances can't be worse than you looked for. There's St. Philip's now. I don't suppose you'll go on being vicar's warden after this to do, and it brought you a powerful lot of customers from the church, did that.
HOBSON (turning to her). I'm getting a lot of comfort from your husband, Maggie.
MAGGIE. It's about what you deserve. (Goes to him.)
HOBSON. Have you got any more consolation for me, Will?
WILLIE (aggrieved). I only spoke what came into my mind.
HOBSON. Well, have you spoken it all?
WILLIE. I can keep my mouth shut if you'd rather.
HOBSON. Don't strain yourself, Will Mossop. When a man's mind is full of thoughts like yours, they're better out than in. You let them come, my lad. They'll leave a cleaner place behind.
WILLIE. I'm not much good at talking, and I always seem to say wrong things when I do talk. I'm sorry if my well-meant words don't suit your taste, but I thought you came here for advice.
HOBSON. I didn't come to you, you jumped-up cock-a-hooping—(Rising.)
MAGGIE. That 'ull do, father. (Pushes him down.) My husband's trying to help you.
HOBSON (glares impatiently for a time, then meekly says). Yes, Maggie.
MAGGIE. Now about this accident of yours.
HOBSON. Yes, Maggie.
MAGGIE. It's the publicity that you're afraid of most.
HOBSON. It's being dragged into a court of law at all, me that's voted right all through my life and been a sound supporter of the Queen and Constitution.
MAGGIE. Then we must try to keep it out of court. (Moves away to L. C.)
HOBSON (rising and moving to C.). If there are lawyers in Heaven, Maggie, which I doubt, they may keep cases out of courts there. On earth a lawyer's job's to squeeze a man and squeeze him where his squirming's seen the most—in court.
MAGGIE. I've heard of cases being settled out of court, in private.
HOBSON. In private? Yes, I dare say, and all the worse for that. It's done amongst themselves in lawyers' offices behind closed doors so no one can see they're squeezing twice as hard in private as they'd dare to do in public. There's some restraint demanded by a public place, but privately! It'll cost a fortune to settle this in private, Maggie.
MAGGIE. I make no doubt it's going to cost you something, but you'd rather do it privately than publicly?
HOBSON (coming back to sofa and sitting again). If only it were not a lawyer's office.
MAGGIE. You can settle it with the lawyer out of his office. You can settle with him here.
(She goes L. and opens door. Then comes down L.) Albert!
(Enter ALBERT, who leaves door open. He comes C.)
This is Mr. Prosser, of Prosser, Pilkington, and Prosser.
HOBSON (amazed). He is!
MAGGIE. Yes.
HOBSON (incredulously, rising). You're a lawyer!
ALBERT. Yes, I'm a lawyer.
HOBSON (with disgust almost too deep for words). At your age!
MAGGIE (going up to door). Come out, all of you. (She moves to top end of table.)
(There is reluctance inside, then VICKEY, ALICE and FRED enter and stand in a row, L.)
HOBSON. Alice! Vickey!
MAGGIE. Family gathering. This is Mr. Beenstock, of Beenstock & Co.
FREDDY. How do you do?
HOBSON. What! Here!
(The situation is plainly beyond his mused brain's capacity.)
MAGGIE. When you've got a thing to settle, you need all the parties to be present.
HOBSON. But there are so many of them. Where have they all come from?
MAGGIE. My bedroom.
HOBSON. Your—? Maggie, I wish you'd explain before my brain gives way.
MAGGIE. It's quite simple. I got them here because I expected you.
HOBSON. You expected me!
MAGGIE. Yes. You're in trouble.
HOBSON (shaking his head, then as if finding an outlet, pouncing on ALICE). What's it got to do with Alice and Vickey? What are they doing here ? What's happening to the shop? (Moves C.)
ALICE. Tubby Wadlow's looking after it.
HOBSON. And is it Tubby's job to look after the shop?
VICKEY. He'd got no other job. The shop's so slack since Maggie left.
HOBSON (swelling with rage). And do you run that shop? Do you give orders there? Do you decide when you can put your hats on and walk out of it?
MAGGIE. They come out because it's my wedding-day, father. It's reason enough, and Will and me 'ull do the same for them. We'll close the shop and welcome on their wedding-days.
HOBSON. Their wedding-days! That's a long time off. It'll be many a year before there's another wedding in this family, I give you my word. (Turns to MAGGIE.) One daughter defying me is quite enough.
ALBERT. Hadn't we better get to business, sir?
HOBSON (turning on him). Young man, don't abuse a noble word. You're a lawyer. By your own admission you're a lawyer. Honest men live by business and lawyers live by law.
ALBERT. In this matter, sir, I am following the instructions of my client, Mr. Beenstock, and the remark you have just let fall, before witnesses, appears to me to bear a libellous reflection on the action of my client.
HOBSON. What! So it's libel now. Isn't trespass and... and spying on trade secrets enough for you, you blood-sucking—(To ALBERT.)
ALBERT. One moment, Mr. Hobson. You can call me what you like—
HOBSON. And I shall. You—
ALBERT. But I wish to remind you, in your own interests, that abuse of a lawyer is remembered in the costs. Now, my client tells me he is prepared to settle this matter out of court. Personally, I don't advise him to, because we should probably get higher damages in court. But Mr. Beenstock has no desire to be vindictive. He remembers your position, your reputation for respectability, and—
HOBSON. How much?
ALBERT. Er—I beg your pardon?
HOBSON. I'm not so fond of the sound of your voice as you are. What's the figure?
ALBERT. The sum we propose, which will include my ordinary costs, but not any additional costs incurred by your use of defamatory language to me, is one thousand pounds.
HOBSON. What!
MAGGIE. It isn't.
HOBSON. One thousand pounds for tumbling down a cellar! Why, I might have broken my leg. (Moves away to R.)
ALBERT. That is in the nature of an admission, Mr. Hobson. Our flour bags saved your legs from fracture and I am therefore inclined to add to the sum I have stated a reasonable estimate of the doctor's bill we have saved you by protecting your legs with our bags. (Turns towards FREDDY.)
(HOBSON sits R.)
MAGGIE. Eh, Albert Prosser, I can see you're going to get on in the world, but you needn't be greedy here. That one thousand's too much. (Comes C.)
ALBERT. We thought—
MAGGIE. Then you can think again.
FREDDY. But—
MAGGIE. If there are any more signs of greediness from you two, there'll be a counter-action for personal damages due to your criminal carelessness in leaving your cellar flap open.
HOBSON. (rising). Maggie, you've saved me. I'll bring that action. I'll show them up.
MAGGIE. You're not damaged, and one lawyer's quite enough. But he'll be more reasonable now. I know perfectly well what father can afford to pay, and it's not a thousand pounds nor anything like a thousand pounds.
HOBSON. Not so much of your can't afford, Maggie. You'll make me out a pauper.
MAGGIE (turns to HOBSON). You can afford 500 pounds and you're going to pay 500 pounds.
HOBSON. Oh, but... there's a difference between affording and paying.
MAGGIE. You can go to the courts and be reported in the papers if you like. (Moves to above table, R.C.)
HOBSON. It's the principle I care about. I'm being beaten by a lawyer.
VICKEY (going to HOBSON). Father, dear, how can you be beaten when they wanted a thousand pounds and you're only going to give 500 pounds?
HOBSON. I hadn't thought of that.
VICKEY. It's they who are beaten.
HOBSON. I'd take a good few beatings myself at the price, Vickey. Still, I want this keeping out of court.
ALBERT. Then we can take it as settled?
HOBSON. Do you want to see the money before you believe me? Is that your nasty lawyer's way?
ALBERT. Not at all, Mr. Hobson. Your word is as good as your bond. (Moves back L.)
VICKEY. It's settled! It's settled! Hurrah! Hurrah! (Moves L. to FREDDY.)
HOBSON. Well, I don't see what you have to cheer about, Vickey. I'm not to be dragged to public scorn, but you know this is a tidy bit of money to be going out of the family. (Sits sofa, R. C.)
MAGGIE. It's not going out of the family, father. (Moves up R.)
HOBSON. I don't see how you make it out.
MAGGIE. Their wedding-day is not so far off as you thought, now there's the half of five hundred pounds apiece for them to make a start on.
(ALBERT and ALICE, FRED and VICKEY stand arm in arm, L.) HOBSON. You mean to tell me—
MAGGIE. You won't forget you've passed your word, will you father?
HOBSON (rising). I've been diddled. (Moves C.) It's a plant. It—
MAGGIE. It takes two daughters off your hands at once, and clears your shop of all the fools of women that used to lumber up the place.
ALICE. It will be much easier for you without us in your way, father.
HOBSON. Aye, and you can keep out of my way and all. Do you hear that, all of you?
VICKEY. Father...!
HOBSON (picking up his hat). I'll run that shop with men and—and I'll show Salford how it should be run. Don't you imagine there'll be room for you when you come home crying and tired of your fine husbands. I'm rid of ye, and it's a lasting riddance, mind. I'll pay this money, that you've robbed me of, and that's the end of it. All of you. You, especially, Maggie. I'm not blind yet, and I can see who 'tis I've got to thank for this. (He goes to foot of stairs.)
MAGGIE. Don't be vicious, father.
HOBSON. Will Mossop, I'm sorry for you. (Over banisters.) Take you for all in all, you're the best of the bunch. You're a backward lad, but you know your trade and it's an honest one.
(HOBSON is going up the stairs.)
ALICE. So does my Albert know his trade. (Goes R. C.)
HOBSON (half-way up-stairs). I'll grant you that. He knows his trade. He's good at robbery. (ALICE shows great indignation.) And I've to have it on my conscience that my daughter's wed a lawyer and an employer of lawyers.
VICKEY. It didn't worry your conscience to keep us serving in the shop at no wages.
HOBSON. I kept you, didn't I? It's some one else's job to victual you in future. Aye, you may grin, you two, but girls don't live on air. Your penny buns 'ull cost you tuppence now—and more. Wait, till the families begin to come. Don't come to me for keep, that's all. (Going.)
ALICE. Father!
HOBSON (turning). Aye. You may father me. But that's a piece of work I've finished with. I've done with fathering, and they're beginning it. They'll know what marrying a woman means before so long. They're putting chains upon themselves and I have thrown the shackles off. I've suffered thirty years and more and I'm a free man from to-day. Lord, what a thing you're taking on! You poor, poor wretches. You're red-nosed robbers, but you're going to pay for it.
(He opens door and exits R.)
MAGGIE (coming C.). You'd better arrange to get married quick. Alice and Vickey will have a sweet time with him.
FREDDY. Can they go home at all!
MAGGIE. Why not?
FREDDY. After what he said?
MAGGIE. He'll not remember half of it. He's for the "Moonraker's" now—if there's time. What is the time?
ALBERT. Time we were going, Maggie—(going to her, C.);—you'll be glad to see the back of us. (He shows MAGGIE his watch.)
WILLIE. No. No. (Rising.) I wouldn't dream of asking you to go.
MAGGIE (moving up to get hats). Then I would. It's high time we turned you out. There are your hats.
(She gets ALBERT'S and FRED'S hats from rack, R.)
Good night.
(ALBERT and FREDDY go upstairs. MAGGIE comes back, C.)
Good night, Vickey.
VICKEY (with a quick kiss). Good night, Maggie.
(VICKEY goes upstairs. She and FREDDY go out.)
MAGGIE. Good night, Alice.
ALICE. Good night, Maggie. (The same quick kiss.) And thank you.
MAGGIE. Oh, that! (She goes with her to stairs.) I'll see you again soon, only don't come round here too much, because Will and me's going to be busy and you'll maybe find enough to do yourselves with getting wed.
ALICE. I dare say. (Upstairs.)
(The general exit is continuous, punctuated with laughter and merry "Good nights!")
MAGGIE. Send us word when the day is.
ALBERT. We'll be glad to see you at the wedding.
MAGGIE. We'll come to that. You'll be too grand for us afterwards.
ALBERT. Oh, no, Maggie.
MAGGIE. Well, happen we'll be catching up with you before so long. We're only starting here. Good night.
ALBERT & ALICE Good night, Maggie.
(They go out, closing door. MAGGIE turns to WILL, putting her hands on his shoulders. He starts.)
MAGGIE. Now you've heard what I've said of you to-night. In twenty years you're going to be thought more of than either of your brothers-in-law.
WILLIE. I heard you say it, Maggie.
MAGGIE. And we're to make it good. I'm not a boaster, Will. And it's to be in less than twenty years, and all.
WILLIE. Well, I dunno. They've a long start on us.
MAGGIE. And you've got me. Your slate's in the bedroom. Bring it out. I'll have this table clear by the time you come back.
(She moves round to R. of table and hustles off the last remains of the meal, putting the flowers on the mantel and takes off cloth, placing it over the back of the chair, R. WILL goes to bedroom and returns with a slate and slate pencil. The slate is covered with writing. He puts it on table.)
MAGGIE. Off with your Sunday coat now. You don't want to make a mess of that.
(He takes coat off and gets rag from behind screen and brings it back to table. He hangs his coat on a peg, R.)
What are you doing with that mopping rag?
WILLIE. I was going to wash out what's on the slate.
MAGGIE. Let me see it first. That's what you did last night at Tubby's after I came here?
WILLIE. Yes, Maggie.
MAGGIE (sitting at table up R. C., reading). "There is always room at the top." (Washing it out.) Your writing's improving, Will. I'll set you a short copy for to-night, because it's getting late and we've a lot to do in the morning. (Writing.) "Great things grow from small." Now, then, you can sit down here and copy that!
(He takes her place at the table. MAGGIE watches a moment, then goes to fire-place and fingers the flowers.)
I'll put these flowers of Mrs. Hepworth's behind the fire, Will. We'll not want litter in the place come working time to-morrow.
(She takes up basin, stops, looks at WILL, who is bent over his slate, and takes a flower out, throwing the rest behind the fire and going to bedroom with the one.)
WILLIE (looking up). You're saving one.
MAGGIE (caught in an act of sentiment and apologetically). I thought I'd press it in my Bible for a keepsake, Will. I'm not beyond liking to be reminded of this day.
(She looks at screen and yawns.)
Lord, I'm tired. I reckon I'll leave those pots till morning. It's a slackish way of starting, but I don't get married every day.
WILLIE (industrious at his slate). No.
MAGGIE. I'm for my bed. You finish that copy before you come.
WILLIE. Yes, Maggie.
(Exit MAGGIE to bedroom, with the flower. She closes door. WILL copies, repeats letters and words as he writes them slowly, finishes, then rises and rakes out fire. He looks shyly at bedroom door, sits and takes his boots off. He rises, boots in hand, moves towards door, hesitates, and turns back, puts boots down at door, then returns to table and takes off his collar. Then hesitates again, finally makes up his mind, puts out light, and lies down on sofa with occasional glances at the bedroom door. At first he faces the fire. He is uncomfortable. He turns over and faces the door. In a minute MAGGIE opens the bedroom door. She has a candle and is in a plain calico night-dress. She comes to WILL, shines the light on him, takes him by the ear, and returns with him to bedroom).
{Illustration.} Red papered chamber of an old-fashioned design. Antimacassars on chairs. All sorts of china ornaments. Dogs, vases, artificial flowers, lace curtains on window, books, boot boxes, cushions pictures, velvet-framed views.
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