ELLIE [sitting up impatiently] But what can I do? I am not a sea captain: I can’t stand on bridges in typhoons, or go slaughtering seals and whales in Greenland’s icy mountains.[316] They won’t let women be captains. Do you want me to be a stewardess?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER There are worse lives. The stewardesses could come ashore if they liked; but they sail and sail and sail.

ELLIE What could they do ashore but marry for money? I don’t want to be a stewardess: I am too bad a sailor. Think of something else for me.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER I can’t think so long and continuously. I am too old. I must go in and out. [He tries to rise.]

ELLIE [pulling him back] You shall not. You are happy here, aren’t you?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER I tell you it’s dangerous to keep me. I can’t keep awake and alert.

ELLIE What do you run away for? To sleep?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER No. To get a glass of rum.

ELLIE [frightfully disillusioned] Is that it? How disgusting! Do you like being drunk?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER No: I dread being drunk more than anything in the world. To be drunk means to have dreams; to go soft; to be easily pleased and deceived; to fall into the clutches of women. Drink does that for you when you are young. But when you are old: very very old, like me, the dreams come by themselves. You don’t know how terrible that is: you are young: you sleep at night only, and sleep soundly. But later on you will sleep in the afternoon. Later still you will sleep even in the morning; and you will awake tired, tired of life. You will never be free from dozing and dreams; the dreams will steal upon your work every ten minutes unless you can awaken yourself with rum. I drink now to keep sober; but the dreams are conquering: rum is not what it was: I have had ten glasses since you came; and it might be so much water. Go get me another: Guinness knows where it is. You had better see for yourself the horror of an old man drinking.

ELLIE You shall not drink. Dream. I like you to dream. You must never be in the real world when we talk together.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER I am too weary to resist, or too weak. I am in my second childhood. I do not see you as you really are. I can’t remember what I really am. I feel nothing but the accursed happiness I have dreaded all my life long: the happiness that comes as life goes, the happiness of yielding and dreaming instead of resisting and doing, the sweetness of the fruit that is going rotten.

ELLIE You dread it almost as much as I used to dread losing my dreams and having to fight and do things. But that is all over for me: my dreams are dashed to pieces. I should like to marry a very old, very rich man. I should like to marry you. I had much rather marry you than marry Mangan. Are you very rich?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER No. Living from hand to mouth. And I have a wife somewhere in Jamaica: a black one. My first wife. Unless she’s dead.

ELLIE What a pity! I feel so happy with you. [She takes his hand, almost unconsciously, and pats it.] I thought I should never feel happy again.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER Why?

ELLIE Don’t you know?

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER No.

ELLIE Heartbreak. I fell in love with Hector, and didn’t know he was married.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER Heartbreak? Are you one of those who are so sufficient to themselves that they are only happy when they are stripped of everything, even of hope?

ELLIE [gripping the hand] It seems so; for I feel now as if there was nothing I could not do, because I want nothing.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER That’s the only real strength. That’s genius. That’s better than rum.

ELLIE [throwing away his hand] Rum! Why did you spoil it? HECTOR and RANDALL come in from the garden through the starboard door.

HECTOR I beg your pardon. We did not know there was anyone here.

ELLIE [rising] That means that you want to tell Mr Randall the story about the tiger. Come, Captain: I want to talk to my father; and you had better come with me.

CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [rising] Nonsense! the man is in bed.

ELLIE Aha! I’ve caught you. My real father has gone to bed; but the father you gave me[317] is in the kitchen. You knew quite well all along. Come. [She draws him out into the garden with her through the port door.]

HECTOR That’s an extraordinary girl. She has the Ancient Mariner on a string like a Pekinese dog.

RANDALL Now that they have gone, shall we have a friendly chat?

HECTOR You are in what is supposed to be my house. I am at your disposal.

HECTOR sits down in the draughtsman’s chair, turning it to face RANDALL, who remains standing, leaning at his ease against the carpenter’s bench.

RANDALL I take it that we may be quite frank. I mean about Lady Utterword.

HECTOR You may. I have nothing to be frank about. I never met her until this afternoon.

RANDALL [straightening up] What! But you are her sister’s husband.

HECTOR Well, if you come to that, you are her husband’s brother.

RANDALL But you seem to be on intimate terms with her.

HECTOR So do you.

RANDALL Yes: but I am on intimate terms with her. I have known her for years.

HECTOR It took her years to get to the same point with you that she got to with me in five minutes, it seems.

RANDALL [vexed] Really, Ariadne is the limit [he moves away huffishly towards the windows].

HECTOR [coolly] She is, as I remarked to Hesione, a very enterprising woman.

RANDALL [returning, much troubled] You see, Hushabye, you are what women consider a good-looking man.

HECTOR I cultivated that appearance in the days of my vanity; and Hesione insists on my keeping it up. She makes me wear these ridiculous things [indicating his Arab costume] because she thinks me absurd in evening dress.

RANDALL Still, you do keep it up, old chap. Now, I assure you I have not an atom of jealousy in my disposition —

HECTOR The question would seem to be rather whether your brother has any touch of that sort.

RANDALL What! Hastings! Oh, don’t trouble about Hastings. He has the gift of being able to work sixteen hours a day at the dullest detail, and actually likes it. That gets him to the top wherever he goes. As long as Ariadne takes care that he is fed regularly, he is only too thankful to anyone who will keep her in good humor for him.

HECTOR And as she has all the Shotover fascination, there is plenty of competition for the job, eh?

RANDALL [angrily] She encourages them. Her conduct is perfectly scandalous. I assure you, my dear fellow, I haven’t an atom of jealousy in my composition; but she makes herself the talk of every place she goes to by her thoughtlessness. It’s nothing more: she doesn’t really care for the men she keeps hanging about her; but how is the world to know that? It’s not fair to Hastings. It’s not fair to me.

HECTOR Her theory is that her conduct is so correct —

RANDALL Correct! She does nothing but make scenes from morning till night. You be careful, old chap. She will get you into trouble: that is, she would if she really cared for you.

HECTOR Doesn’t she?

RANDALL Not a scrap. She may want your scalp to add to her collection; but her true affection has been engaged years ago. You had really better be careful.

HECTOR Do you suffer much from this jealousy?

RANDALL Jealousy! I jealous! My dear fellow, haven’t I told you that there is not an atom of —

HECTOR Yes. And Lady Utterword told me she never made scenes. Well, don’t waste your jealousy on my moustache. Never waste jealousy on a real man: it is the imaginary hero that supplants us all in the long run. Besides, jealousy does not belong to your easy man-of-the-world pose, which you carry so well in other respects.