George Bernard Shaw a penn State Electronic Classics Series Publication

passion for her distress). My poor girl!

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36
The Devil’s Disciple
Judith, with a sudden effort, throws her arms round him;
kisses him; and swoons away, dropping from his arms to the
ground as if the kiss had killed her.
RICHARD 
(going quickly to the sergeant). Now, Sergeant:
quick, before she comes to. The handcuffs. (He puts out his
hands.)
SERGEANT 
(pocketing them). Never mind, sir: I’ll trust you.
You’re a game one. You ought to a bin a soldier, sir. Between
them two, please. (The soldiers place themselves one before Ri-
chard and one behind him. The sergeant opens the door.)
RICHARD 
(taking a last look round him). Goodbye, wife:
goodbye, home. Muffle the drums, and quick march!
The sergeant signs to the leading soldier to march. They file out
quickly.
When Anderson returns from Mrs. Dudgeon’s he is astonished to
find the room apparently empty and almost in darkness except
for the glow from the fire; for one of the candles has burnt out,
and the other is at its last flicker.
ANDERSON
. Why, what on earth—? (Calling) Judith,
Judith! (He listens: there is no answer.) Hm! (He goes to the
cupboard; takes a candle from the drawer; lights it at the flicker
of the expiring one on the table; and looks wonderingly at the
untasted meal by its light. Then he sticks it in the candlestick;
takes off his hat; and scratches his head, much puzzled. This
action causes him to look at the floor for the first time; and there
he sees Judith lying motionless with her eyes closed. He runs to
her and stoops beside her, lifting her head.) Judith.
JUDITH 
(waking; for her swoon has passed into the sleep of ex-
haustion after suffering). Yes. Did you call? What’s the matter?
ANDERSON
. I’ve just come in and found you lying here
with the candles burnt out and the tea poured out and cold.
What has happened?
JUDITH 
(still astray). I don’t know. Have I been asleep? I
suppose—(she stops blankly) I don’t know.
ANDERSON 
(groaning). Heaven forgive me, I left you alone
with that scoundrel. (Judith remembers. With an agonized cry,
she clutches his shoulders and drags herself to her feet as he rises
with her. He clasps her tenderly in his arms.) My poor pet!
JUDITH 
(frantically clinging to him). What shall I do? Oh
my God, what shall I do?
ANDERSON
. Never mind, never mind, my dearest dear: it
was my fault. Come: you’re safe now; and you’re not hurt,

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37
GB Shaw
are you? (He takes his arms from her to see whether she can
stand.) There: that’s right, that’s right. If only you are not
hurt, nothing else matters.
JUDITH
. No, no, no: I’m not hurt.
ANDERSON
. Thank Heaven for that! Come now: (leading
her to the railed seat and making her sit down beside him) sit
down and rest: you can tell me about it to-morrow. Or, (mis-
understanding her distress) you shall not tell me at all if it
worries you. There, there! (Cheerfully.) I’ll make you some
fresh tea: that will set you up again. (He goes to the table, and
empties the teapot into the slop bowl.)
JUDITH 
(in a strained tone). Tony.
ANDERSON
. Yes, dear?
JUDITH
. Do you think we are only in a dream now?
ANDERSON 
(glancing round at her for a moment with a