heartbreak house-第10章

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the　fools'　paradise　in　which　the　theatre　formerly　traded；　and
thrust　upon　the　sternest　realities　and　necessities　until　we　have
lost　both　faith　in　and　patience　with　the　theatrical　pretences
that　had　no　root　either　in　reality　or　necessity；　second；　by　the
startling　change　made　by　the　war　in　the　distribution　of　income。
It　seems　only　the　other　day　that　a　millionaire　was　a　man　with
？0；000　a　year。　To…day；　when　he　has　paid　his　income　tax　and　super
tax；　and　insured　his　life　for　the　amount　of　his　death　duties；　he
is　lucky　if　his　net　income　is　10；000　pounds　though　his　nominal
property　remains　the　same。　And　this　is　the　result　of　a　Budget
which　is　called　〃a　respite　for　the　rich。〃　At　the　other　end　of　the
scale　millions　of　persons　have　had　regular　incomes　for　the　first
time　in　their　lives；　and　their　men　have　been　regularly　clothed；
fed；　lodged；　and　taught　to　make　up　their　minds　that　certain
things　have　to　be　done；　also　for　the　first　time　in　their　lives。
Hundreds　of　thousands　of　women　have　been　taken　out　of　their
domestic　cages　and　tasted　both　discipline　and　independence。　The
thoughtless　and　snobbish　middle　classes　have　been　pulled　up　short
by　the　very　unpleasant　experience　of　being　ruined　to　an
unprecedented　extent。　We　have　all　had　a　tremendous　jolt；　and
although　the　widespread　notion　that　the　shock　of　the　war　would
automatically　make　a　new　heaven　and　a　new　earth；　and　that　the　dog
would　never　go　back　to　his　vomit　nor　the　sow　to　her　wallowing　in
the　mire；　is　already　seen　to　be　a　delusion；　yet　we　are　far　more
conscious　of　our　condition　than　we　were；　and　far　less　disposed　to
submit　to　it。　Revolution；　lately　only　a　sensational　chapter　in
history　or　a　demagogic　claptrap；　is　now　a　possibility　so　imminent
that　hardly　by　trying　to　suppress　it　in　other　countries　by　arms
and　defamation；　and　calling　the　process　anti…Bolshevism；　can　our
Government　stave　it　off　at　home。

Perhaps　the　most　tragic　figure　of　the　day　is　the　American
President　who　was　once　a　historian。　In　those　days　it　became　his
task　to　tell　us　how；　after　that　great　war　in　America　which　was
more　clearly　than　any　other　war　of　our　time　a　war　for　an　idea；
the　conquerors；　confronted　with　a　heroic　task　of　reconstruction；
turned　recreant；　and　spent　fifteen　years　in　abusing　their　victory
under　cover　of　pretending　to　accomplish　the　task　they　were　doing
what　they　could　to　make　impossible。　Alas！　Hegel　was　right　when　he
said　that　we　learn　from　history　that　men　never　learn　anything
from　history。　With　what　anguish　of　mind　the　President　sees　that
we；　the　new　conquerors；　forgetting　everything　we　professed　to
fight　for；　are　sitting　down　with　watering　mouths　to　a　good　square
meal　of　ten　years　revenge　upon　and　humiliation　of　our　prostrate
foe；　can　only　be　guessed　by　those　who　know；　as　he　does；　how
hopeless　is　remonstrance；　and　how　happy　Lincoln　was　in　perishing
from　the　earth　before　his　inspired　messages　became　scraps　of
paper。　He　knows　well　that　from　the　Peace　Conference　will　come；　in
spite　of　his　utmost；　no　edict　on　which　he　will　be　able；　like
Lincoln；　to　invoke　〃the　considerate　judgment　of　mankind：　and　the
gracious　favor　of　Almighty　God。〃　He　led　his　people　to　destroy　the
militarism　of　Zabern；　and　the　army　they　rescued　is　busy　in
Cologne　imprisoning　every　German　who　does　not　salute　a　British
officer；　whilst　the　government　at　home；　asked　whether　it
approves；　replies　that　it　does　not　propose　even　to　discontinue
this　Zabernism　when　the　Peace　is　concluded；　but　in　effect　looks
forward　to　making　Germans　salute　British　officers　until　the　end
of　the　world。　That　is　what　war　makes　of　men　and　women。　It　will
wear　off；　and　the　worst　it　threatens　is　already　proving
impracticable；　but　before　the　humble　and　contrite　heart　ceases　to
be　despised；　the　President　and　I；　being　of　the　same　age；　will　be
dotards。　In　the　meantime　there　is；　for　him；　another　history　to
write；　for　me；　another　comedy　to　stage。　Perhaps；　after　all；　that
is　what　wars　are　for；　and　what　historians　and　playwrights　are
for。　If　men　will　not　learn　until　their　lessons　are　written　in
blood；　why；　blood　they　must　have；　their　own　for　preference。



The　Ephemeral　Thrones　and　the　Eternal　Theatre

To　the　theatre　it　will　not　matter。　Whatever　Bastilles　fall；　the
theatre　will　stand。　Apostolic　Hapsburg　has　collapsed；　All　Highest
Hohenzollern　languishes　in　Holland；　threatened　with　trial　on　a
capital　charge　of　fighting　for　his　country　against　England；
Imperial　Romanoff；　said　to　have　perished　miserably　by　a　more
summary　method　of　murder；　is　perhaps　alive　or　perhaps　dead：
nobody　cares　more　than　if　he　had　been　a　peasant；　the　lord　of
Hellas　is　level　with　his　lackeys　in　republican　Switzerland；　Prime
Ministers　and　Commanders…in…Chief　have　passed　from　a　brief　glory
as　Solons　and　Caesars　into　failure　and　obscurity　as　closely　on
one　another's　heels　as　the　descendants　of　Banquo；　but　Euripides
and　Aristophanes；　Shakespeare　and　Moliere；　Goethe　and　Ibsen
remain　fixed　in　their　everlasting　seats。



How　War　muzzles　the　Dramatic　Poet

As　for　myself；　why；　it　may　be　asked；　did　I　not　write　two　plays
about　the　war　instead　of　two　pamphlets　on　it？　The　answer　is
significant。　You　cannot　make　war　on　war　and　on　your　neighbor　at
the　same　time。　War　cannot　bear　the　terrible　castigation　of
comedy；　the　ruthless　light　of　laughter　that　glares　on　the　stage。
When　men　are　heroically　dying　for　their　country；　it　is　not　the
time　to　show　their　lovers　and　wives　and　fathers　and　mothers　how
they　are　being　sacrificed　to　the　blunders　of　boobies；　the
cupidity　of　capitalists；　the　ambition　of　conquerors；　the
electioneering　of　demagogues；　the　Pharisaism　of　patriots；　the
lusts　and　lies　and　rancors　and　bloodthirsts　that　love　war　because
it　opens　their　prison　doors；　and　sets　them　in　the　thrones　of
power　and　popularity。　For　unless　these　things　are　mercilessly
exposed　they　will　hide　under　the　mantle　of　the　ideals　on　the
stage　just　as　they　do　in　real　life。

And　though　there　may　be　better　things　to　reveal；　it　may　not；　and
indeed　cannot；　be　militarily　expedient　to　reveal　them　whilst　the
issue　is　still　in　the　balance。　Truth　telling　is　not　compatible
with　the　defence　of　the　realm。　We　are　just　now　reading　the
revelations　of　our　generals　and　admirals；　unmuzzled　at　last　by
the　armistice。　During　the　war；　General　A；　in　his　moving
despatches　from　the　field；　told　how　General　B　had　covered　himself
with　deathless　glory　in　such　and　such　a　battle。　He　now　tells　us
that　General　B　came　within　an　ace　of　losing　us　the　war　by
disobeying　his　orders　on　that　occasion；　and　fighting　instead　of
running　away　as　he　ought　to　have　done。　An　excellent　subject　for
comedy　now　that　the　war　is　over；　no　doubt；　but　if　General　A　had
let　this　out　at　the　time；　what　would　have　been　the　effect　on
General　B's　soldiers？　And　had　the　stage　made　known　what　the　Prime
Minister　and　the　Secretary　of　State　for　War　who　overruled　General
A　thought　of　him；　and　what　he　thought　of　them；　as　now　revealed　in
raging　controversy；　what　would　have　been　the　effect　on　the
nation？　That　is　why　comedy；　though　sorely　tempted；　had　to　be
loyally　silent；　for　the　art　of　the　dramatic　poet　knows　no
patriotism；　recognizes　no　obligation　but　truth　to　natural
history；　cares　not　whether　Germany　or　England　perish；　is　ready　to
cry　with　Brynhild；　〃Lass'uns　verderben；　lachend　zu　grunde　geh'n〃
sooner　than　deceive　or　be　deceived；　and　thus　becomes　in　time　of
war　a　greater　military　danger　than　poison；　steel；　or
trinitrotoluene。　That　is　why　I　had　to　withhold　Heartbreak　House
from　the　footlights　during　the　war；　for　the　Germans　might　on　any
night　have　turned　the　last　act　from　play　into　earnest；　and　even
then　might　not　have　waited　for　their　cues。

June；　1919。



HEARTBREAK　HOUSE

ACT　I

The　hilly　country　in　the　middle　of　the　north　edge　of　Sussex；
looking　very　pleasant　on　a　fine　evening　at　the　end　of　September；
is　seen　through　the　windows　of　a　room　which　has　been　built　so　as
to　resemble　the　after　part　of　an　old…fashioned　high…pooped　ship；
with　a　stern　gallery；　for　the　windows　are　ship　built　with　heavy
timbering；　and　run　right　across　the　room　as　continuously　as　the
stability　of　the　wall　allows。　A　row　of　lockers　under　the　windows
provides　an　unupholstered　windowseat　interrupted　by　twin　gl