Major Barbara | Page 6

or Disraeli could have openly
defied every social and moral obligation all their lives as your father
has? They simply wouldn't have dared. I asked Gladstone to take it up.
I asked The Times to take it up. I asked the Lord Chamberlain to take it
up. But it was just like asking them to declare war on the Sultan. They
WOULDN'T. They said they couldn't touch him. I believe they were
afraid.
STEPHEN. What could they do? He does not actually break the law.
LADY BRITOMART. Not break the law! He is always breaking the
law. He broke the law when he was born: his parents were not married.
STEPHEN. Mother! Is that true?
LADY BRITOMART. Of course it's true: that was why we separated.
STEPHEN. He married without letting you know this!
LADY BRITOMART [rather taken aback by this inference] Oh no. To
do Andrew justice, that was not the sort of thing he did. Besides, you
know the Undershaft motto: Unashamed. Everybody knew.
STEPHEN. But you said that was why you separated.
LADY BRITOMART. Yes, because he was not content with being a
foundling himself: he wanted to disinherit you for another foundling.
That was what I couldn't stand.
STEPHEN [ashamed] Do you mean for--for--for--
LADY BRITOMART. Don't stammer, Stephen. Speak distinctly.
STEPHEN. But this is so frightful to me, mother. To have to speak to
you about such things!
LADY BRITOMART. It's not pleasant for me, either, especially if you

are still so childish that you must make it worse by a display of
embarrassment. It is only in the middle classes, Stephen, that people get
into a state of dumb helpless horror when they find that there are
wicked people in the world. In our class, we have to decide what is to
be done with wicked people; and nothing should disturb our self
possession. Now ask your question properly.
STEPHEN. Mother: you have no consideration for me. For Heaven's
sake either treat me as a child, as you always do, and tell me nothing at
all; or tell me everything and let me take it as best I can.
LADY BRITOMART. Treat you as a child! What do you mean? It is
most unkind and ungrateful of you to say such a thing. You know I
have never treated any of you as children. I have always made you my
companions and friends, and allowed you perfect freedom to do and
say whatever you liked, so long as you liked what I could approve of.
STEPHEN [desperately] I daresay we have been the very imperfect
children of a very perfect mother; but I do beg you to let me alone for
once, and tell me about this horrible business of my father wanting to
set me aside for another son.
LADY BRITOMART [amazed] Another son! I never said anything of
the kind. I never dreamt of such a thing. This is what comes of
interrupting me.
STEPHEN. But you said--
LADY BRITOMART [cutting him short] Now be a good boy, Stephen,
and listen to me patiently. The Undershafts are descended from a
foundling in the parish of St. Andrew Undershaft in the city. That was
long ago, in the reign of James the First. Well, this foundling was
adopted by an armorer and gun-maker. In the course of time the
foundling succeeded to the business; and from some notion of gratitude,
or some vow or something, he adopted another foundling, and left the
business to him. And that foundling did the same. Ever since that, the
cannon business has always been left to an adopted foundling named
Andrew Undershaft.
STEPHEN. But did they never marry? Were there no legitimate sons?
LADY BRITOMART. Oh yes: they married just as your father did; and
they were rich enough to buy land for their own children and leave
them well provided for. But they always adopted and trained some
foundling to succeed them in the business; and of course they always

quarrelled with their wives furiously over it. Your father was adopted
in that way; and he pretends to consider himself bound to keep up the
tradition and adopt somebody to leave the business to. Of course I was
not going to stand that. There may have been some reason for it when
the Undershafts could only marry women in their own class, whose
sons were not fit to govern great estates. But there could be no excuse
for passing over my son.
STEPHEN [dubiously] I am afraid I should make a poor hand of
managing a cannon foundry.
LADY BRITOMART. Nonsense! you could easily get a manager and
pay him a salary.
STEPHEN. My father evidently had no great opinion of my capacity.
LADY BRITOMART. Stuff, child! you were only a baby: it had
nothing to do with