Hobson's Choice: A Lancashire Comedy in Four Acts Part 19

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 trespa.s.s, 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 trespa.s.s?

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 trespa.s.s?

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-cla.s.s 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 n.o.bbut 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 c.o.c.k-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 Const.i.tution.

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!