Hobsons Choice | Page 6

woman is Paradise to the dominion of three.
JIM. It sounds a sad case, Henry.
HOBSON. I'm a talkative man by nature, Jim. You know that.
JIM. You're an orator, Henry. I doubt John Bright himself is better
gifted of the gab than you.
HOBSON. Nay, that's putting it a bit too strong. A good case needs no
flattery.
JIM. Well, you're the best debater in the "Moonraker's" parlour.
HOBSON. And that's no more than truth. Yes, Jim, in the estimation of
my fellow men, I give forth words of weight. In the eyes of my
daughters I'm a windbag. (Rises and moves down L.).
JIM. Nay. Never!
HOBSON. I am. (Turns.) They scorn my wisdom, Jim. They answer
back. I'm landed in a hole--a great and undignified hole. My own
daughters have got the upper hand of me.

JIM. Women are worse than men for getting above themselves.
HOBSON. A woman's foolishness begins where man's leaves off.
JIM. They want a firm hand, Henry.
HOBSON. I've lifted up my voice and roared at them.
JIM. Beware of roaring at women, Henry. Roaring is mainly hollow
sound. It's like trying to defeat an army with banging drums instead of
cold steel. And it's steel in a man's character that subdues the women.
HOBSON. I've tried all ways, and I'm fair moithered. I dunno what to
do. (Scratches his head.)
JIM. Then you quit roaring at 'em and get 'em wed. (Rises.)
HOBSON. I've thought of that. Trouble is to find the men.
JIM. Men's common enough. Are you looking for angels in breeches?
HOBSON. I'd like my daughters to wed temperance young men, Jim.
JIM. You keep your ambitions within reasonable limits, Henry. You've
three daughters to find husbands for.
HOBSON. Two, Jim, two.
JIM. Two?
HOBSON. Vickey and Alice are mostly window dressing in the shop.
But Maggie's too useful to part with. And she's a bit on the ripe side for
marrying, is our Maggie.
JIM. I've seen 'em do it at double her age. Still, leaving her out, you've
two.
HOBSON. One'll do for a start, Jim. (Crosses to R.) It's a thing I've
noticed about wenches. Get one wedding in a family and it goes

through the lot like measles. (Moves round chair to up R.)
JIM. Well, you want a man, and you want him temperance. It'll cost
you a bit, you know. (Sits in chair below L. side of counter.)
HOBSON (going to him). Eh? Oh, I'll get my hand down for the
wedding all right.
JIM. A warm man like you 'ull have to do more than that. There's
things called settlements.
HOBSON. Settlements?
JIM. Aye. You've to bait your hook to catch fish, Henry.
HOBSON. Then I'll none go fishing. (Sits.)
JIM. But you said--
HOBSON. I've changed my mind. I'd a fancy for a bit of peace, but
there's luxuries a man can buy too dear. Settlements indeed!
JIM. I had a man in mind.
HOBSON. You keep him there, Jim. I'll rub along and chance it.
Settlements indeed!
JIM. You save their keep.
HOBSON. They work for that. And they're none of them big eaters.
JIM. And their wages.
HOBSON. Wages? Do you think I pay wages to my own daughters?
(Rises and goes to desk L.) I'm not a fool.
JIM. Then it's all off? (Rises.)
HOBSON (turns). From the moment that you breathed the word

"settlements" it was dead off, Jim. Let's go to the "Moonraker's" and
forget there's such a thing as women in the world. (He takes up hat and
rings bell on counter.) Shop! Shop!
(MAGGIE enters from R.)
I'm going out, Maggie.
MAGGIE (She remains by door). Dinner's at one, remember.
HOBSON. Dinner will be when I come in for it. I'm master here.
(Moves to go.)
MAGGIE. Yes, father. One o'clock.
HOBSON (disgusted.) Come along, Jim.
(JIM and HOBSON go out to street. MAGGIE turns to speak inside R.
door.) MAGGIE. Dinner at half-past one, girls. We'll give him half an
hour. (She closes door, turns arm-chair facing C. and moves to trap,
which she raises.) Willie, come here.
(In a moment WILLIE appears, and stops half-way up.)
WILLIE. Yes, Miss Maggie?
MAGGIE (L. of trap.) Come up, and put the trap down, I want to talk
to you.
(He comes, reluctantly.)
WILLIE. We're very busy in the cellar.
(MAGGIE points to trap. He closes it.)
MAGGIE. Show me your hands, Willie.
WILLIE. They're dirty. (He holds them out hesitatingly.)

MAGGIE. Yes, they're dirty, but they're clever. They can shape the
leather like no other man's that ever came into the shop. Who taught
you, Willie? (She retains his hands.)
WILLIE. Why, Miss Maggie, I learnt my trade here.
MAGGIE. Hobson's never taught you to make boots the way you do.
WILLIE. I've had no other teacher.