FullReads

MRS TARLETON. Oh, Bunny! For shame!

BENTLEY. Well, who’d marry me, dyou suppose, if they could get my brains with a full-sized body? No, thank you. I shall take jolly good care to keep Joey out of this until Hypatia is past praying for.

[Johnny and Lord Summerhays return through the pavilion from their stroll.]

TARLETON.Welcome! welcome! Why have you stayed away so long?

LORD SUMMERHAYS. [shaking hands] Yes: I should have come sooner. But I’m still rather lost in England. [Johnny takes his hat and hangs it up beside his own]. Thank you. [Johnny returns to his swing and his novel. Lord Summerhays comes to the writing table]. The fact is that as Ive nothing to do, I never have time to go anywhere. [He sits down next Mrs Tarleton].

TARLETON.[following him and sitting down on his left] Paradox, paradox. Good. Paradoxes are the only truths. Read Chesterton. But theres lots for you to do here. You have a genius for government. You learnt your job out there in Jinghiskahn. Well, we want to be governed here in England. Govern us.

LORD SUMMERHAYS. Ah yes, my friend; but in Jinghiskahn you have to govern the right way. If you dont, you go under and come home. Here everything has to be done the wrong way, to suit governors who understand nothing but partridge shooting (our English native princes, in fact) and voters who dont know what theyre voting about. I dont understand these democratic games; and I’m afraid I’m too old to learn. What can I do but sit in the window of my club, which consists mostly of retired Indian Civil servants? We look on at the muddle and the folly and amateurishness; and we ask each other where a single fortnight of it would have landed us.

TARLETON.Very true. Still, Democracy’s all right, you know. Read Mill. Read Jefferson.

LORD SUMMERHAYS. Yes. Democracy reads well; but it doesnt act well, like some people’s plays. No, no, my friend Tarleton: to make Democracy work, you need an aristocratic democracy. To make Aristocracy work, you need a democratic aristocracy. Youve got neither; and theres an end of it.

TARLETON.Still, you know, the superman may come. The superman’s an idea. I believe in ideas. Read Whatshisname.

LORD SUMMERHAYS. Reading is a dangerous amusement, Tarleton. I wish I could persuade your free library people of that.

TARLETON.Why, man, it’s the beginning of education.

LORD SUMMERHAYS. On the contrary, it’s the end of it. How can you dare teach a man to read until youve taught him everything else first?

JOHNNY. [intercepting his father’s reply by coming out of the swing and taking the floor] Leave it at that. Thats good sense. Anybody on for a game of tennis?

BENTLEY. Oh, lets have some more improving conversation. Wouldnt you rather, Johnny?

JOHNNY. If you ask me, no.

TARLETON.Johnny: you dont cultivate your mind. You dont read.

JOHNNY. [coming between his mother and Lord Summerhays, book in hand] Yes I do. I bet you what you like that, page for page, I read more than you, though I dont talk about it so much. Only, I dont read the same books. I like a book with a plot in it. You like a book with nothing in it but some idea that the chap that writes it keeps worrying, like a cat chasing its own tail. I can stand a little of it, just as I can stand watching the cat for two minutes, say, when Ive nothing better to do. But a man soon gets fed up with that sort of thing. The fact is, you look on an author as a sort of god. I look on him as a man that I pay to do a certain thing for me. I pay him to amuse me and to take me out of myself and make me forget.