George Bernard Shaw a penn State Electronic Classics Series Publication

back with the stand of stuffed birds under a glass case, and an
inkstand, which he places on the table.) Good morning, Mr.
Dudgeon. Will you open the door, please: the people have
come.
CHRISTY
. Good morning. (He opens the house door.)
The morning is now fairly bright and warm; and Anderson,
who is the first to enter, has left his cloak at home. He is accom-
panied by Lawyer Hawkins, a brisk, middleaged man in brown
riding gaiters and yellow breeches, looking as much squire as
solicitor. He and Anderson are allowed precedence as represent-
ing the learned professions. After them comes the family, headed
by the senior uncle, William Dudgeon, a large, shapeless man,
bottle-nosed and evidently no ascetic at table. His clothes are
not the clothes, nor his anxious wife the wife, of a prosperous
man. The junior uncle, Titus Dudgeon, is a wiry little terrier of
a man, with an immense and visibly purse-proud wife, both
free from the cares of the William household.
Hawkins at once goes briskly to the table and takes the chair
nearest the sofa, Christy having left the inkstand there. He puts
his hat on the floor beside him, and produces the will. Uncle
William comes to the fire and stands on the hearth warming his
coat tails, leaving Mrs. William derelict near the door. Uncle
Titus, who is the lady’s man of the family, rescues her by giving
her his disengaged arm and bringing her to the sofa, where he
sits down warmly between his own lady and his brother’s. Ander-

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15
GB Shaw
son hangs up his hat and waits for a word with Judith.
JUDITH
. She will be here in a moment. Ask them to wait.
(She taps at the bedroom door. Receiving an answer from within,
she opens it and passes through.)
ANDERSON 
(taking his place at the table at the opposite end
to Hawkins). Our poor afflicted sister will be with us in a
moment. Are we all here?
CHRISTY 
(at the house door, which he has just shut). All ex-
cept Dick.
The callousness with which Christy names the reprobate jars on
the moral sense of the family. Uncle William shakes his head
slowly and repeatedly. Mrs. Titus catches her breath convulsively
through her nose. Her husband speaks.
UNCLE TITUS
. Well, I hope he will have the grace not to
come. I hope so.
The Dudgeons all murmur assent, except Christy, who goes to
the window and posts himself there, looking out. Hawkins smiles
secretively as if he knew something that would change their tune
if they knew it. Anderson is uneasy: the love of solemn family
councils, especially funereal ones, is not in his nature. Judith
appears at the bedroom door.
JUDITH 
(with gentle impressiveness). Friends, Mrs. Dudgeon.
(She takes the chair from beside the fireplace; and places it for
Mrs. Dudgeon, who comes from the bedroom in black, with a
clean handkerchief to her eyes. All rise, except Essie. Mrs. Titus
and Mrs. William produce equally clean handkerchiefs and weep.
It is an affecting moment.)
UNCLE WILLIAM
. Would it comfort you, sister, if we were
to offer up a prayer?
UNCLE TITUS
. Or sing a hymn?
ANDERSON 
(rather hastily). I have been with our sister this
morning already, friends. In our hearts we ask a blessing.
ALL 
(except Essie). Amen.
They all sit down, except Judith, who stands behind Mrs.