Press Cuttings | Page 5

By the way, what was the explosion?
THE ORDERLY. Only a sort of bombshell, Sir.
BALSQUITH. Bombshell!
THE ORDERLY. A pasteboard one, Sir. Full of papers with Votes for Women in red letters. Fired into the yard from the roof of the Alliance Office.
MITCHENER. Pooh! Go away. Go away.
The Orderly, bewildered, goes out.
BALSQUITH. Mitchener: you can save the country yet. Put on your full-dress uniform and your medals and orders and so forth. Get a guard of honor--something showy--horse guards or something of that sort; and call on the old girl--
MITCHENER. The old girl?
BALSQUITH. Well, Lady Richmond. Apologize to her. Ask her leave to accept the command. Tell her that youve made the curate your adjutant or your aide-de-camp or whatever is the proper thing. By the way, what can you make him?
MITCHENER. I might make him my chaplain. I dont see why I shouldnt have a chaplain on my staff. He showed a very proper spirit in punching that young cub's head. I should have done the same myself.
BALSQUITH. Then Ive your promise to take command if Lady Richmond consents?
MITCHENER. On condition that I have a free hand. No nonsense about public opinion or democracy.
BALSQUITH. As far as possible, I think I may say yes.
MITCHENER (rising intolerantly and going to the hearthrug). That wont do for me. Dont be weak-kneed, Balsquith. You know perfectly well that the real government of this country is and always must be the government of the masses by the classes. You know that democracy is damned nonsense, and that no class stands less of it than the working class. You know that we are already discussing the steps that will have to be taken if the country should ever be face to face with the possibility of a Labor majority in parliament. You know that in that case we should disfranchise the mob, and, if they made a fuss, shoot them down. You know that if we need public opinion to support us, we can get any quantity of it manufactured in our papers by poor devils of journalists who will sell their souls for five shillings. You know--
BALSQUITH. Stop. Stop, I say. I dont know. That is the difference between your job and mine, Mitchener. After twenty years in the army a man thinks he knows everything. After twenty months in the Cabinet he knows that he knows nothing.
MITCHENER. We learn from history--
BALSQUITH. We learn from history that men never learn anything from history. Thats not my own: its Hegel.
MITCHENER. Whos Hegel?
BALSQUITH. Dead. A German philosopher. (He half rises, but recollects something and sits down again.) Oh confound it: that reminds me. The Germans have laid down four more Dreadnoughts.
MITCHENER. Then you must lay down twelve.
BALSQUITH. Oh yes: its easy to say that: but think of what theyll cost.
MITCHENER. Think of what it would cost to be invaded by Germany and forced to pay an indemnity of five hundred millions.
BALSQUITH. But you said that if you got compulsory military service there would be an end of the danger of invasion.
MITCHENER. On the contrary, my dear fellow, it increases the danger tenfold, because it increases German jealousy of our military supremacy.
BALSQUITH. After all, why should the Germans invade us?
MITCHENER. Why shouldnt they? What else has their army to do? What else are they building a navy for?
BALSQUITH. Well, we never think of invading Germany.
MITCHENER. Yes we do. I have thought of nothing else for the last ten years. Say what you will, Balsquith, the Germans have never recognized, and until they get a stern lesson, they never WILL recognize, the plain fact that the interests of the British Empire are paramount, and that the command of the sea belongs by nature to England.
BALSQUITH. But if they wont recognize it, what can I do?
MITCHENER. Shoot them down.
BALSQUITH. I cant shoot them down.
MITCHENER. Yes you can. You dont realize it; but if you fire a rifle into a German he drops just as surely as a rabbit does.
BALSQUITH But dash it all, man, a rabbit hasnt got a rifle and a German has. Suppose he shoots you down.
MITCHENER. Excuse me, Balsquith; but that consideration is what we call cowardice in the army. A soldier always assumes that he is going to shoot, not to be shot.
BALSQUITH (jumping up and walking about sulkily). Oh come! I like to hear you military people talking of cowardice. Why, you spend your lives in an ecstasy of terror of imaginary invasions. I dont believe you ever go to bed without looking under it for a burglar.
MITCHENER (calmly). A very sensible precaution, Balsquith. I always take it. And in consequence Ive never been burgled.
BALSQUITH. Neither have I. Anyhow dont you taunt me with cowardice. (He posts himself on the hearthrug beside Mitchener on his left.) I never look under my bed for a burglar.