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CASHEL BYRON'S PROFESSION

By George Bernard Shaw




PROLOGUE




I


Moncrief House, Panley Common. Scholastic establishment for the sons of
gentlemen, etc.

Panley Common, viewed from the back windows of Moncrief House, is
a tract of grass, furze and rushes, stretching away to the western
horizon.

One wet spring afternoon the sky was full of broken clouds, and the
common was swept by their shadows, between which patches of green
and yellow gorse were bright in the broken sunlight. The hills to the
northward were obscured by a heavy shower, traces of which were drying
off the slates of the school, a square white building, formerly a
gentleman's country-house. In front of it was a well-kept lawn with a
few clipped holly-trees. At the rear, a quarter of an acre of land was
enclosed for the use of the boys. Strollers on the common could hear, at
certain hours, a hubbub of voices and racing footsteps from within the
boundary wall. Sometimes, when the strollers were boys themselves,
they climbed to the coping, and saw on the other side a piece of common
trampled bare and brown, with a few square yards of concrete, so worn
into hollows as to be unfit for its original use as a ball-alley. Also
a long shed, a pump, a door defaced by innumerable incised inscriptions,
the back of the house in much worse repair than the front, and about
fifty boys in tailless jackets and broad, turned-down collars. When the
fifty boys perceived a stranger on the wall they rushed to the spot with
a wild halloo, overwhelmed him with insult and defiance, and dislodged
him by a volley of clods, stones, lumps of bread, and such other
projectiles as were at hand.

On this rainy spring afternoon a brougham stood at the door of Moncrief
House. The coachman, enveloped in a white india-rubber coat, was
bestirring himself a little after the recent shower. Within-doors, in
the drawing-room, Dr. Moncrief was conversing with a stately lady aged
about thirty-five, elegantly dressed, of attractive manner, and only
falling short of absolute beauty in her complexion, which was deficient
in freshness.

"No progress whatever, I am sorry to say," the doctor was remarking.

"That is very disappointing," said the lady, contracting her brows.

"It is natural that you should feel disappointed," replied the doctor.
"I would myself earnestly advise you to try the effect of placing him
at some other--" The doctor stopped. The lady's face had lit up with a
wonderful smile, and she had raised her hand with a bewitching gesture
of protest.

"Oh, no, Dr. Moncrief," she said. "I am not disappointed with YOU; but
I am all the more angry with Cashel, because I know that if he makes no
progress with you it must be his own fault. As to taking him away, that
is out of the question. I should not have a moment's peace if he were
out of your care. I will speak to him very seriously about his conduct
before I leave to-day. You will give him another trial, will you not?"

"Certainly. With the greatest pleasure," exclaimed the doctor, confusing
himself by an inept attempt at gallantry. "He shall stay as long as
you please. But"--here the doctor became grave again--"you cannot too
strongly urge upon him the importance of hard work at the present time,
which may be said to be the turning-point of his career as a student. He
is now nearly seventeen; and he has so little inclination for study that
I doubt whether he could pass the examination necessary to entering one
of the universities. You probably wish him to take a degree before he
chooses a profession."

"Yes, of course," said the lady, vaguely, evidently assenting to the
doctor's remark rather than expressing a conviction of her own. "What
profession would you advise for him? You know so much better than I."

"Hum!" said Dr. Moncrief, puzzled. "That would doubtless depend to some
extent on his own taste--"

"Not at all," said the lady, interrupting him with vivacity. "What does
he know about the world, poor boy? His own taste is sure to be something
ridiculous. Very likely he would want to go on the stage, like me."

"Oh! Then you would not encourage any tendency of that sort?"

"Most decidedly not. I hope he has no such idea."

"Not that I am aware of. He shows so little ambition to excel in any
particular branch that I should say his choice of a profession may be
best determined by his parents. I am, of course, ignorant whether his
relatives possess influence likely to be of use to him. That is often
the chief point to be considered, particularly in cases like your son's,
where no special aptitude manifests itself."

"I am the only relative he ever had, poor fellow," said the lady, with
a pensive smile. Then, seeing an expression of astonishment on the
doctor's face, she added, quickly, "They are all dead."

"Dear me!"

"However," she continued, "I have no doubt I can make plenty of interest
for him. But it is difficult to get anything nowadays without passing
competitive examinations. He really must work. If he is lazy he ought to
be punished."

The doctor looked perplexed. "The fact is," he said, "your son can
hardly be dealt with as a child any longer. He is still quite a boy in
his habits and ideas; but physically he is rapidly springing up into a
young man. That reminds me of another point on which I will ask you
to speak earnestly to him. I must tell you that he has attained some
distinction among his school-fellows here as an athlete. Within due
bounds I do not discourage bodily exercises: they are a recognized part
of our system. But I am sorry to say that Cashel has not escaped that
tendency to violence which sometimes results from the possession of
unusual strength and dexterity. He actually fought with one of the
village youths in the main street of Panley some months ago. The matter
did not come to my ears immediately; and, when it did, I allowed it to
pass unnoticed, as he had interfered, it seems, to protect one of the
smaller boys. Unfortunately he was guilty of a much more serious fault
a little later. He and a companion of his had obtained leave from me to
walk to Panley Abbey together. I afterwards found that their real object
was to witness a prize-fight that took place--illegally, of course--on
the common. Apart from the deception practised, I think the taste they
betrayed a dangerous one; and I felt bound to punish them by a severe
imposition, and restriction to the grounds for six weeks. I do not hold,
however, that everything has been done in these cases when a boy has
been punished. I set a high value on a mother's influence for softening
the natural roughness of boys."

"I don't think he minds what I say to him in the least," said the lady,
with a sympathetic air, as if she pitied the doctor in a matter that
chiefly concerned him. "I will speak to him about it, of course.
Fighting is an unbearable habit. His father's people were always
fighting; and they never did any good in the world."

"If you will be so kind. There are just the three points: the necessity
for greater--much greater--application to his studies; a word to him
on the subject of rough habits; and to sound him as to his choice of a
career. I agree with you in not attaching much importance to his ideas
on that subject as yet. Still, even a boyish fancy may be turned to
account in rousing the energies of a lad."

"Quite so," assented the lady. "I will certainly give him a lecture."

The doctor looked at her mistrustfully, thinking perhaps that she
herself would be the better for a lecture on her duties as a mother. But
he did not dare to tell her so; indeed, having a prejudice to the effect
that actresses were deficient in natural feeling, he doubted the use of
daring. He also feared that the subject of her son was beginning to bore
her; and, though a doctor of divinity, he was as reluctant as other men
to be found wanting in address by a pretty woman. So he rang the bell,
and bade the servant send Master Cashel Byron. Presently a door was
heard to open below, and a buzz of distant voices became audible.
The doctor fidgeted and tried to think of something to say, but his
invention failed him: he sat in silence while the inarticulate buzz rose
into a shouting of "By-ron!" "Cash!" the latter cry imitated from the
summons usually addressed to cashiers in haberdashers' shops.
Finally there was a piercing yell of "Mam-ma-a-a-a-ah!" apparently in
explanation of the demand for Byron's attendance in the drawing-room.
The doctor reddened. Mrs. Byron smiled. Then the door below closed,
shutting out the tumult, and footsteps were heard on the stairs.

"Come in," cried the doctor, encouragingly.

Master Cashel Byron entered blushing; made his way awkwardly to his
mother, and kissed the critical expression which was on her upturned
face as she examined his appearance. Being only seventeen, he had not
yet acquired a taste for kissing. He inexpertly gave Mrs. Byron quite a
shock by the collision of their teeth. Conscious of the failure, he drew
himself upright, and tried to hide his hands, which were exceedingly
dirty, in the scanty folds of his jacket. He was a well-grown youth,
with neck and shoulders already strongly formed, and short auburn hair
curling in little rings close to his scalp. He had blue eyes, and an
expression of boyish good-humor, which, however, did not convey any
assurance of good temper.

"How do you do, Cashel?" said Mrs. Byron, in a queenly manner, after a
prolonged look at him.

"Very well, thanks," said he, grinning and avoiding her eye.

"Sit down, Byron," said the doctor. Byron suddenly forgot how to sit
down, and looked irresolutely from one chair to another. The doctor made
a brief excuse, and left the room; much to the relief of his pupil.

"You have grown greatly, Cashel. And I am afraid you are very awkward."
Cashel  and looked gloomy.

"I do not know what to do with you," continued Mrs. Byron. "Dr. Moncrief
tells me that you are very idle and rough."

"I am not," said Cashel, sulkily. "It is bec--"

"There is no use in contradicting me in that fashion," said Mrs. Byron,
interrupting him sharply. "I am sure that whatever Dr. Moncrief says is
perfectly true."

"He is always talking like that," said Cashel, plaintively. "I can't
learn Latin and Greek; and I don't see what good they are. I work as
hard as any of the rest--except the regular stews, perhaps. As to
my being rough, that is all because I was out one day with Gully
Molesworth, and we saw a crowd on the common, and when we went to see
what was up it was two men fighting. It wasn't our fault that they came
there to fight."

"Yes; I have no doubt that you have fifty good excuses, Cashel. But I
will not allow any fighting; and you really must work harder. Do you
ever think of how hard _I_ have to work to pay Dr. Moncrief one hundred
and twenty pounds a year for you?"

"I work as hard as I can. Old Moncrief seems to think that a fellow
ought to do nothing else from morning till night but write Latin verses.
Tatham, that the doctor thinks such a genius, does all his constering
from cribs. If I had a crib I could conster as well--very likely
better."

"You are very idle, Cashel; I am sure of that. It is too provoking to
throw away so much money every year for nothing. Besides, you must soon
be thinking of a profession."

"I shall go into the army," said Cashel. "It is the only profession for
a gentleman."

Mrs. Byron looked at him for a moment as if amazed at his presumption.
But she checked herself and only said, "I am afraid you will have to
choose some less expensive profession than that. Besides, you would have
to pass an examination to enable you to enter the army; and how can you
do that unless you study?"

"Oh, I shall do that all right enough when the time comes."

"Dear, dear! You are beginning to speak so coarsely, Cashel. After all
the pains I took with you at home!"

"I speak the same as other people," he replied, sullenly. "I don't see
the use of being so jolly particular over every syllable. I used to have
to stand no end of chaff about my way of speaking. The fellows here know
all about you, of course."

"All about me?" repeated Mrs. Byron, looking at him curiously.

"All about your being on the stage, I mean," said Cashel. "You complain
of my fighting; but I should have a precious bad time of it if I didn't
lick the chaff out of some of them."

Mrs. Byron smiled doubtfully to herself, and remained silent and
thoughtful for a moment. Then she rose and said, glancing at the
weather, "I must go now, Cashel, before another shower begins. And do,
pray, try to learn something,