LIZA [springing up and running between Pickering and Mrs. Pearce for protection] No! I"ll call the police, I will.
MRS. PEARCE. But I"ve no place to put her.
HIGGINS. Put her in the dustbin.
LIZA. Ah-ah-ah-ow-ow-oo!
PICKERING. Oh come, Higgins! be reasonable.
MRS. PEARCE [resolutely] You must be reasonable, Mr. Higgins: really you must. You can"t walk over everybody like this.
Higgins, thus scolded, subsides. The hurricane is succeeded by a zephyr of amiable surprise.
HIGGINS [with professional exquisiteness of modulation] I walk over everybody! My dear Mrs. Pearce, my dear Pickering, I never had the slightest intention of walking over anyone. All I propose is that we should be kind to this poor girl. We must help her to prepare and fit herself for her new station in life. If I did not express myself clearly it was because I did not wish to hurt her delicacy, or yours.
Liza, rea.s.sured, steals back to her chair.
MRS. PEARCE [to Pickering] Well, did you ever hear anything like that, sir?
PICKERING [laughing heartily] Never, Mrs. Pearce: never.
HIGGINS [patiently] What"s the matter?
MRS. PEARCE. Well, the matter is, sir, that you can"t take a girl up like that as if you were picking up a pebble on the beach.
HIGGINS. Why not?
MRS. PEARCE. Why not! But you don"t know anything about her. What about her parents? She may be married.
LIZA. Garn!
HIGGINS. There! As the girl very properly says, Garn! Married indeed! Don"t you know that a woman of that cla.s.s looks a worn out drudge of fifty a year after she"s married.
LIZA. Who"d marry me?
HIGGINS [suddenly resorting to the most thrillingly beautiful low tones in his best elocutionary style] By George, Eliza, the streets will be strewn with the bodies of men shooting themselves for your sake before I"ve done with you.
MRS. PEARCE. Nonsense, sir. You mustn"t talk like that to her.
LIZA [rising and squaring herself determinedly] I"m going away. He"s off his chump, he is. I don"t want no balmies teaching me.
HIGGINS [wounded in his tenderest point by her insensibility to his elocution] Oh, indeed! I"m mad, am I? Very well, Mrs. Pearce: you needn"t order the new clothes for her. Throw her out.
LIZA [whimpering] Nah-ow. You got no right to touch me.
MRS. PEARCE. You see now what comes of being saucy. [Indicating the door] This way, please.
LIZA [almost in tears] I didn"t want no clothes. I wouldn"t have taken them [she throws away the handkerchief]. I can buy my own clothes.
HIGGINS [deftly retrieving the handkerchief and intercepting her on her reluctant way to the door] You"re an ungrateful wicked girl. This is my return for offering to take you out of the gutter and dress you beautifully and make a lady of you.
MRS. PEARCE. Stop, Mr. Higgins. I won"t allow it. It"s you that are wicked. Go home to your parents, girl; and tell them to take better care of you.
LIZA. I ain"t got no parents. They told me I was big enough to earn my own living and turned me out.
MRS. PEARCE. Where"s your mother?
LIZA. I ain"t got no mother. Her that turned me out was my sixth stepmother. But I done without them. And I"m a good girl, I am.
HIGGINS. Very well, then, what on earth is all this fuss about? The girl doesn"t belong to anybody-is no use to anybody but me. [He goes to Mrs. Pearce and begins coaxing]. You can adopt her, Mrs. Pearce: I"m sure a daughter would be a great amus.e.m.e.nt to you. Now don"t make any more fuss. Take her downstairs; and-
MRS. PEARCE. But what"s to become of her? Is she to be paid anything? Do be sensible, sir.
HIGGINS. Oh, pay her whatever is necessary: put it down in the housekeeping book. [Impatiently] What on earth will she want with money? She"ll have her food and her clothes. She"ll only drink if you give her money.
LIZA [turning on him] Oh you are a brute. It"s a lie: n.o.body ever saw the sign of liquor on me. [She goes back to her chair and plants herself there defiantly].
PICKERING [in good-humored remonstrance] Does it occur to you, Higgins, that the girl has some feelings?
HIGGINS [looking critically at her] Oh no, I don"t think so. Not any feelings that we need bother about. [Cheerily] Have you, Eliza?
LIZA. I got my feelings same as anyone else.
HIGGINS [to Pickering, reflectively] You see the difficulty?
PICKERING. Eh? What difficulty?
HIGGINS. To get her to talk grammar. The mere p.r.o.nunciation is easy enough.
LIZA. I don"t want to talk grammar. I want to talk like a lady.
MRS. PEARCE. Will you please keep to the point, Mr. Higgins. I want to know on what terms the girl is to be here. Is she to have any wages? And what is to become of her when you"ve finished your teaching? You must look ahead a little.
HIGGINS [impatiently] What"s to become of her if I leave her in the gutter? Tell me that, Mrs. Pearce.
MRS. PEARCE. That"s her own business, not yours, Mr. Higgins.
HIGGINS. Well, when I"ve done with her, we can throw her back into the gutter; and then it will be her own business again; so that"s all right.
LIZA. Oh, you"ve no feeling heart in you: you don"t care for nothing but yourself [she rises and takes the floor resolutely]. Here! I"ve had enough of this. I"m going [making for the door]. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you ought.
HIGGINS [s.n.a.t.c.hing a chocolate cream from the piano, his eyes suddenly beginning to twinkle with mischief] Have some chocolates, Eliza.
LIZA [halting, tempted] How do I know what might be in them? I"ve heard of girls being drugged by the like of you.
Higgins whips out his penknife; cuts a chocolate in two; puts one half into his mouth and bolts it; and offers her the other half.
HIGGINS. Pledge of good faith, Eliza. I eat one half you eat the other.