George Bernard Shaw a penn State Electronic Classics Series Publication



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Bernard Shaw - Pygmalion

Swindon rises hastily. The General comes in. the sergeant goes
out. General Burgoyne is 55, and very well preserved. He is a
man of fashion, gallant enough to have made a distinguished
marriage by an elopement, witty enough to write successful com-
edies, aristocratically-connected enough to have had opportuni-
ties of high military distinction. His eyes, large, brilliant, ap-
prehensive, and intelligent, are his most remarkable feature:
without them his fine nose and small mouth would suggest rather
more fastidiousness and less force than go to the making of a first
rate general. Just now the eyes are angry and tragic, and the
mouth and nostrils tense.
BURGOYNE
. Major Swindon, I presume.
SWINDON
. Yes. General Burgoyne, if I mistake not. (They
bow to one another ceremoniously.) I am glad to have the sup-
port of your presence this morning. It is not particularly lively
business, hanging this poor devil of a minister.
BURGOYNE 
(throwing himself onto Swindon’s chair). No,
sir, it is not. It is making too much of the fellow to execute
him: what more could you have done if he had been a mem-
ber of the Church of England? Martyrdom, sir, is what these
people like: it is the only way in which a man can become
famous without ability. However, you have committed us to
hanging him: and the sooner he is hanged the better.
SWINDON
. We have arranged it for 12 o’clock. Nothing
remains to be done except to try him.
BURGOYNE 
(looking at him with suppressed anger). Noth-
ing—except to save our own necks, perhaps. Have you heard
the news from Springtown?
SWINDON
. Nothing special. The latest reports are satis-
factory.
BURGOYNE 
(rising in amazement). Satisfactory, sir! Satis-
factory!! (He stares at him for a moment, and then adds, with
grim intensity) I am glad you take that view of them.


50
The Devil’s Disciple
SWINDON 
(puzzled). Do I understand that in your opin-
ion—
BURGOYNE
. I do not express my opinion. I never stoop to
that habit of profane language which unfortunately coarsens
our profession. If I did, sir, perhaps I should be able to ex-
press my opinion of the news from Springtown—the news
which you (severely) have apparently not heard. How soon
do you get news from your supports here?—in the course of
a month eh?
SWINDON 
(turning sulky). I suppose the reports have been
taken to you, sir, instead of to me. Is there anything serious?
BURGOYNE 
(taking a report from his pocket and holding it
up). Springtown’s in the hands of the rebels. (He throws the
report on the table.)
SWINDON 
(aghast). Since yesterday!
BURGOYNE
. Since two o’clock this morning. Perhaps we
shall be in their hands before two o’clock to-morrow morn-
ing. Have you thought of that?
SWINDON 
(confidently). As to that, General, the British
soldier will give a good account of himself.
BURGOYNE 
(bitterly). And therefore, I suppose, sir, the
British officer need not know his business: the British sol-
dier will get him out of all his blunders with the bayonet. In
future, sir, I must ask you to be a little less generous with the
blood of your men, and a little more generous with your
own brains.
SWINDON
. I am sorry I cannot pretend to your intellec-
tual eminence, sir. I can only do my best, and rely on the
devotion of my countrymen.
BURGOYNE 
(suddenly becoming suavely sarcastic). May I
ask are you writing a melodrama, Major Swindon?
SWINDON 
(flushing). No, sir.
BURGOYNE
. What a pity! What a pity! (Dropping his sar-

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