The Servant in the House Part 11

ROBERT. 'Ere! Did 'e say _bishop_?

MANSON. Yes.

ROBERT. Comin' 'ere? Now?

[MANSON nods his head to each inquiry.]

Well, I ain't agoin' ter leave my sossingers, not if 'e was a bloomin' archangel, see!

[ROGERS, still jiggered, ushers in JAMES PONSONBY MAKESHYFTE, D.D., the Most Reverend the Lord Bishop of Lancashire. He looks his name, his goggles and ear-trumpet lending a beautiful perfection to the resemblance.]

[MANSON has risen: ROBERT, imperturbable, discusses sossingers: ROGERS, with a last excruciation of his ailment, vanishes.]

[The Most Reverend Father in G.o.d stands blinking for recognition.

Pained at the non-fulfilment of this worthy expectation, he moves--a little blindly--towards the table. Here he encounters the oppugnant back of the voracious ROBERT, who grows quite annoyed.

Indeed, be as good as says so.]

'Ere, where ye comin' to?

BISHOP [peering closely into his face, the other edging away]. Ah!

Mr. Smythe, or I am mistaken.

ROBERT. Smith's my name! Don't you call me Smythe!

BISHOP. My dear sir, don't mention it: my sister has explained everything. I bear you no grudge--none whatever!

ROBERT. What's the silly ole josser jawin' abaht now?

BISHOP. But I perceive that I have--er--[sniffing] disturbed you at your morning meal . . .

ROBERT [with conviction]. You 'av' that!

BISHOP. Eh? . . .

ROBERT [louder]. I say, you 'av'!

BISHOP [fixing his ear-trumpet]. Just once more . . .

ROB ERT. Oh, Moses! [Roaring, and indicating his breakfast.] You 'av' blarst you!

BISHOP [mistaking the gesticulation]. Thank you, you are very kind. I think I will. I could get nothing on the journey but a cup of coffee and a bun.

[He sits at the table without ever having perceived MANSON, who has nevertheless been serving him.]

ROBERT. Yus, you look as if you fed on buns!

[Throughout the play the audience will understand where the BISHOP does, and where he does not, hear by his use or non-use of the ear-trumpet. Perhaps the reader will be good enough to imagine these occasions for himself, as he may have observed a reluctance on the part of the author to enc.u.mber the text with stage directions.]

BISHOP [eating, and at the same time addressing the beca.s.socked ROBERT]. And you must not think, on account of the little coolness between us, that I have not followed your career with great interest--very great interest! Your scholastic achievements have been most praiseworthy--especially under the unfortunate circ.u.mstances. . . . Although, by-the-way, I cannot at all agree with your gloss on Romans fourteen, twenty-three; _Katakekritai_ either means _d.a.m.ned_ or nothing at all.

ROBERT [gesticulating]. It was _'im_ as said _d.a.m.ned_!

BISHOP. No, no, sir: it is perfectly indefensible!

ROBERT. I'll use what langwidge I like!

BISHOP [warming]. You said _katakekritai_ . . .

ROBERT. I never did, _I_ tek my oath!

BISHOP. My dear sir, I learned my Greek at Shrewsbury, before you were born! Don't argue, sir!

ROBERT. Oo is argufying? . . . Talking to me about yer Katama-what-d'you-call-it!

BISHOP. We had better drop the subject! . . . Boeotian! After all, it is not precisely the matter which has brought us together.

And that reminds me . . . [Trumpet.] Has he come yet?

ROBERT. Oo?

BISHOP. Your brother, of course.

ROBERT. My brother! Oh, you'll see _'im_ soon enough!

BISHOP. I gather from your remark that he has not arrived yet.

Good! The fact is, I should like a preliminary discussion with yourself before meeting your ill.u.s.trious brother.

ROBERT. Then you'd better look slippy!

BISHOP. I beg your pardon? . . .

ROBERT [with a flap at the trumpet]. Go on: you 'eard.

BISHOP. Of course, the _financial_ undertaking is considerable: it's not like an _investment_, where there is some reasonable hope of a return: it's merely a matter of charity! The money's--gone, so to speak.

ROBERT. Yus, I've noticed that about money, myself.

BISHOP. At the same time, I should like my _name_ to be a.s.sociated with your brother's, in so worthy an enterprise . . .

ROBERT [mildly sarcastic]. You don't say!

BISHOP. And then again, I _trust_--I say I _trust_--I am not impervious to the more sacred obligations involved; but . . .

[He gropes blindly for bread.]

ROBERT. I allus notice that sort of 'igh talk ends with a "but" . . .

BISHOP. Naturally, I should like to learn a little, beforehand, of your brother's _views_. From what I gather, they are not altogether likely to coincide with my own. Of course, he is an idealist, a dreamer. Now, under these circ.u.mstances, perhaps . . .

Eh, what-- Oh! Bless my soul!