All language subtitles for Major Barbara (1941).eng

The ancient Greeks
considered it unseemly...

- to give public praise to women
for their good looks...

but apparently thought
it did no harm to young men.

Note that, unlike our own popular playwrights
in England and the United States...

the great Athenians scorned what we call “love
interest” and regarded sex appeal as indecent.

Strewth.

Listen to the words put into the mouth
of Aeschylus by Aristophanes.

He boasts of how he made the Greeks crave
like lions to dash at the face of the foe...

and leap to the call of the trumpet.

But no Stenoboea I have given you, no.
No Phaedra, no heroine strumpet.

It’s no use.
This open-air experiment’s no good.

Or else I haven’t the knack
of attracting an audience.

- I’m afraid I must have bored you terribly.
- No, no, sir. No, no.

You sounded a bit heathenish at first, almost
as if you believed in them queer old gods.

I talked to my missus about it.

You see, sir, she’s keen on the Salvation Army
and likes good, serious talk.

But when you said last Sunday
that God was there all along...

whatever they called him,
I knew it was all right.

I never thought much of myself as a speaker,
but I – I’ve never lost my whole audience before.

Oh, not at all, sir. I’ve heard worse.

But there’s two things that no speaker
can stand up against.

What are they, may I ask?

One’s a band, the other’s a fight.

Salvation Army knows that.
They always has a band.

Well, I’m off-duty
now that your meeting’s over, sir.

- I’ll, uh, take you across, if you like.
- Thank you.

There’s a special attraction this Sunday.

- There’s, uh, Major Barbara.
- Major Barbara.

- How can a woman be a major?
- Oh, she can in the Army, sir.

Or a sergeant, or a colonel,
or even a general.

- Really?
- Yes.

If you want a tip or two
on how to gather a meeting and hold it...

you might do worse than hear her
take the Sunday service.

Mmm. I will. I’ve a fancy
for collecting religious experiences.

Yeah.

Amid all the poverty and ugliness
of our lives here...

the sin and the suffering...

the grime and the smoke,
the toil and the struggle...

you know, and I know...

that God is with us always
and everywhere.

We don’t need a cathedral
to worship him in.

Here, beneath God’s open sky,
we can draw nearer to him.

Some of you feel him near you even now...

and feel, too, how much you need him.

Won’t you let him come into your life
now, today...

as so many have done before?

You want his strength,
his guidance, his comfort.

And you’ll need his forgiveness
and friendship.

Some of you turn away from him
in bitterness at the hardship of your lives...

saying that you do not want God.

You want happiness and beauty.

God will give you both.

There is no beauty
like the beauty of the newly saved...

who has found
the unspeakable happiness...

that only the consciousness
of God’s presence and love can give.

We, in the Army, have our daily trials.
Most of us are as poor as you are.

But we all are happy, and the mark
of that happiness is on us all for you to see.

The rich are not happy.

The poor have only to reach out their hands
for God’s happiness and take it.

Is there anyone here
who has courage enough...

to raise his hand as a sign
that he would like us to pray for him?

Make the decision now.

In your need and loneliness...

God can meet with you.

There must be someone here
who feels that he should raise his hand...

but it isn’t easy.

It’s the easiest thing in the world to do.

You’ve done it often enough –

to beckon to your child
or to stop a trolley car.

You feel too shy perhaps.

Never mind.
I will pray for him.

And God will give him
the courage of a lion.

Come. Do not keep God waiting.
Thousands have done it.

And if you can find me one who has done it
and been sorry afterwards...

I will put off this dear uniform
and never pray again.

Come. Come.

I know there is someone.

Ah. I found him.

Let the brave gentleman come to the front.

Make room for him, please.

Give me your hand, dear brother.

Will you come with me to our shelter
where we’ll pray together?

Friends, you will now sing...

“How Sweet the Name of Jesus Sounds.”

♪ How sweet the name of Jesus sounds ♪

♪ In a believer’s ear ♪

Close the door, please.

Won’t you sit down?

Now, before we pray a little together...

may I tell you to forget
that we’ve never met before?

You mustn’t be shy and distant with me.

I can see that all’s well with you.

I can see in your face the new happiness
that has just come into your life.

You’re a new man. You’re saved.
You feel that, don’t you?

Listen to me, Major Barbara.

I’m, uh – I’m here on false pretenses.

It is true that a new happiness
has come into my life...

a happiness
which I never quite believed in...

that, at any rate, I thought would never
come into my life.

- It has come.
- Thank God.

Take care.
It hasn’t made me a better man.

It’s made me an utterly unscrupulous one.

- What do you mean?
- Look at me.

Look deep into my eyes.

Is the new happiness that you see there
the kind of happiness you’re thinking of?

It must be.
There’s no other happiness like it.

It gladdens my heart because,
under God, I have brought it there.

Good.

Now, let me warn you
that I am a scholar and a gentleman.

I’m as poor as a church mouse,
like all scholars.

I’m no good for anything
in the way of worldly success.

But what does that matter?
We’re all poor here.

We never think of money or success.

When all our money’s spent,
we pray for more.

And it comes. It always comes.

Take your mind off such things.

And now...

shall we pray together?

I never pray.
At least, not in your way.

The new thing that’s come to me
is not that I’m saved.

I was saved when I was five years old,
when I first swallowed your religion.

Since then I’ve swallowed 20 religions.
It’s my life’s work.

I’m interested in
the essence of all religions...

not in their catchwords or in yours.

Let us find it for you here. We can.

Nonsense. I have more to teach you
about religion than you can yet imagine.

You think so?

Then why have you come here with me?

Why did you hold up your hand?

Because I have impulses
that I cannot explain.

They come very seldom, but when they come,
nothing can stop me.

There’s an end of my conscience,
of my prudence, of my reason.

Such an impulse seized me
the moment I saw you.

You may be poor.
Our table manners may be different.

Our relatives may not mix.

Probably everything is against
our associating with each other. No matter.

I’m going to join the Army.
I will put on a uniform and beat the drum.

In short, I am hopelessly and forever
in love with you...

and will follow you to the end of the world
until you marry me.

Is that plain?

Perfectly.

And now will you begin
by seeing me home?

I should like to put you through your first trial
by showing you where I live...

and introducing you to my family.

God has some little surprises
for you, my friend.

Have we far to go?
What about a taxi?

We don’t run to taxis
in this part of the world.

Most of us have never been in one.
We’ll have to take a bus.

Oh, there’s a 73. Jump in.

Don’t ring. I have a latchkey.

By the way,
I’d better know your name before I go in.

Well, you haven’t mentioned yours,
and it’s I that have to introduce you.

My name’s Adolphus Cusins.

Adolphus? What a name.

I shall call you Dolly.

My relatives do.
I wish they didn’t.

Introduce me as Professor Cusins.

Allude to me as Miss Undershaft.

Undershaft.
Not Undershaft, the cannon king?

The rival of Krupp and Skode?
The multimillionaire?

Don’t worry, Dolly.
I haven’t seen him since I was that high.

You’ll find my mother
much more terrifying.

Remember the first time
we caught a bus here, Major?

Yes. And you wanted
to take me home in a taxi.

I’ve cured you of those extravagant ideas,
haven’t I?

Yes. Takes the daughter of a millionaire...

to teach economy
to a penniless professor of Greek.

Good evening, Morrison.
I suppose we’re too late for dinner.

I regret to say so, sir.

But, sir, your, uh –

Oh. Excuse me.

- Is anything the matter, Mother?
- Presently, Stephen.

Don’t begin to read, Stephen.

I shall require all your attention.

Oh, it was only while I was waiting.

Now.

- I haven’t kept you waiting very long, I think?
- Not at all, Mother.

Give me my cushion, please.

Sit down.

Don’t fiddle with your tie, Stephen.
There’s nothing the matter with it.

Oh, I – I beg your pardon.

Stephen, I really cannot bear the whole
burden of our family affairs any longer.

You must advise me.

Really, Mother? I know so little
about your family affairs.

So impossible to mention some things to you.

- I suppose you mean your father.
- Yes.

My dear, we can’t go on all our lives
not mentioning him.

You’re old enough now
to be taken into my confidence...

and to help me deal with him
about the girls.

No, the girls are all right.
They are engaged.

Yes, I’ve made a very good match for Sarah.

Charles Lomax will be a millionaire at 35.

But in the meantime, his trustees
cannot allow him more than 800 a year.

- Uh, yes, but –
- Sarah will have to find at least another 800.

And what about Barbara?

I thought Barbara was going to make
the most brilliant career of all of you.

And what does she do?

Joins the Salvation Army and walks in
one evening with a professor of Greek...

whom she’s picked up in the street.

Yes, I was rather taken aback
when I heard they were engaged.

Cusins is a very nice fellow, certainly.

No one would ever guess
that he was born in Australia.

Oh, Adolphus Cusins
will make a very good husband.

- After all, nobody can say a word against Greek.
- No, indeed.

Besides, my dear, you must marry soon.

I’m trying to arrange something for you.

Don’t sulk, Stephen.

I’m not sulking, Mother.

I mean, what has all this
to do with my father?

My dear, Stephen.
Where is the money to come from?

You know how poor my father is.

Whereas your father
must be fabulously wealthy.

There’s no need
to remind me of that, Mother.

I’ve hardly been able to open a newspaper
in my life without seeing our name in it.

The Undershaft quick firer, the Undershaft
torpedo, the Undershaft submarine.

And now, the Undershaft bomb.

At Harrow they called me
the Woolwich infant.

And at Cambridge
some little beast swiped my Bible...

your first birthday present to me.

My writing underneath my name,
“Son and heir to Undershaft and Lazarus...

Death and Destruction Dealers.

Address: Christendom and Judaea.”

But that wasn’t so bad as the way people
kowtowed to me everywhere I went...

because my father was making millions
by selling cannons.

Exactly! That’s why he’s able
to behave as he does...

openly defying
every social and moral obligation.

- It’s criminal.
- Well, he does not actually break the law.

He broke the law when he was born.
His parents were not married.

Mother, is that true?

Of course it’s true.

That’s why we separated.

But this is frightful for me, Mother,
to have to – to speak to you about such things.

Now, be a good boy, Stephen,
and listen to me.

You see, the Undershafts
are descended from a foundling...

who was adopted by an armorer
and gunmaker.

That was centuries ago.

Ever since then, the cannon business
has been left to an adopted foundling...

named Andrew Undershaft.

Your father was adopted in that way...

and he pretends to consider himself
bound to carry on the tradition...

and adopt someone
to leave the business to.

Then it was on my account, Mother,
that your homelife was broken up.

I am sorry.

Well, dear, there were other differences.

I really cannot bear an immoral man.

Your father didn’t exactly do wrong things,
but he said them and thought them.

That was what was so dreadful.
He really had a sort of religion of wrongness.

But I couldn’t forgive him
for preaching immorality...

while he practiced morality.

All this simply bewilders me, Mother.
Right is right, and wrong is wrong.

If a man cannot distinguish them properly,
he’s either a fool or a rascal, and that’s all.

That’s my own boy.

Now that you understand the situation,
what do you advise me to do?

We cannot take money from him.

After all, Stephen, our present income
comes from your father.

- I never knew that.
- Why, dear boy.

The Stevenages
couldn’t do everything for you.

We gave you social position.
Andrew had to contribute something.

So, you see, it isn’t a question
of taking money from him or not.

It’s simply a question of how much.

I would die sooner
than ask him for another penny.

You mean that I must ask him?

Very well, Stephen.
It shall be as you wish.

I’ve asked your father
to come here this evening.

Ring the bell, please.

He may be here at any moment.

Morrison, go and tell everyone
to come to the drawing room at once.

Yes, milady.

Mother, are Cholly and Dolly to come in?

Barbara, I will not have Charles
called Cholly.

The vulgarity of it
positively makes me ill.

It’s all right, Mother.
Are they to come in?

Yes, if they will behave themselves.

Come in, Dolly, and behave yourself.

Come in, Cholly!

Well, sit down, all of you.

Listen to me, children.

Your father is coming here this evening.

- What?
- Oh, I say.

You’re not called on
to say anything, Charles.

- Are you serious, Mother?
- Of course I’m serious.

It’s on your account, Sarah,
and also on Charles’s.

I hope you’re not going to object, Barbara.

I? Why should I?

My father has a soul to be saved
like anybody else.

He’s quite welcome,
as far as I’m concerned.

Well, not that I mind him coming here,
you know, if fair Sarah doesn’t.

Thank you.

Adolphus, have I your permission
to invite my own husband to my own house?

You have my unhesitating support
in everything you do, Lady Brit.

- I wonder how the old boy will take it.
- Much as the old girl will, no doubt, Charles.

- No, I-I didn’t mean – At least I –
- You didn’t think, Charles. You never do.

The result is, you never mean anything.

Now, please attend to me, children.

Your father will be
quite a stranger to us.

I suppose he hasn’t seen Sarah
since she was a little kid, really.

Not since she was a little kid, Charles...

as you express it with that elegance of diction
and refinement of thought...

that seem never to desert you.

Accordingly –

Might I –
Might I speak a word to you, milady?

Nonsense. Show him in.

Yes, milady.

Does Morrison know who it is?

Of course.
Morrison’s always been with us.

It must be a regular corker for him,
don’t you know.

Is this a moment
to get on my nerves, Charles?

This is something out of the ordinary.
Really.

I never expected to meet
the – the mystery man of Europe.

The, uh – Mr. Undershaft.

- Good evening, Andrew.
- How do you do, my dear?

- You look a good deal older.
- I am somewhat older.

Time has stood still with you.

Rubbish.

This is your family.

Is it so large?

I’m sorry to say, my memory
is failing very badly in some things.

- Ah, I can see that you’re my eldest.
- How do you do?

- I’m very glad to meet you again, my boy.
- No, no, no.

Andrew, do you mean to say you don’t
remember how many children you have?

Well, I must confess
I recollect only one son.

So many things have happened
since then, of course.

Andrew, you’re talking nonsense.
Of course you have only one son.

That is Charles Lomax,
who’s engaged to Sarah.

- My dear sir, I beg your pardon.
- Not at all. Delighted, I’m sure.

This is Stephen.

Happy to make your acquaintance,
Mr. Stephen.

Uh – Ah. Then you must be my son.

How are you, my young friend?
He’s very like you, my love.

Uh, no, you flatter me, Mr. Undershaft.

My name is Cusins,
engaged to Barbara.

This is Major Barbara Undershaft
of the Salvation Army.

This is Sarah, your second daughter.

And, uh, that is, uh,
Stephen Undershaft, your son.

- My dear Stephen, I beg your pardon.
- Not at all.

Mr. Cusins, I’m much indebted to you
for explaining so precisely.

- Barbara, my dear.
- Sarah!

Oh, Sarah, of course.

Barbara.
I am right this time, I hope.

- Quite right.
- Sit down, all of you.

Sit down, Andrew.

Thank you, my love.

- Here you are, sir.
- Oh.

Thank you.

Uh, takes you some time to find out
exactly where you are, doesn’t it?

That’s not what embarrasses me, Mr. Lomax.

My difficulty is that
if I play the part of a father...

I should produce the effect
of an intrusive stranger.

If I play the part of a discreet stranger,
I may appear a callous father.

There’s no need for you
to play any part at all, Andrew.

You’d much better be sincere
and natural.

Yes, my dear.
I daresay that will be best.

Well, here I am.
Now, what can I do for you all?

You need not do anything, Andrew.
You’re one of the family.

You will sit with us
and enjoy yourself.

- What on earth is this, Morrison?
- Your hot lemon and ginger, sir.

Always at a quarter past 9:00.

- Your memory seems to be
a great deal better than mine.

Charles Lomax, if you can behave yourself,
behave yourself. If not, leave the room.

I’m awfully sorry, Lady Brit,
but really, you know, upon my soul.

Why don’t you laugh if you want to, Cholly?
It’s good for your inside.

Barbara,
you’ve had the education of a lady.

Please let your father see that,
and don’t talk like a street girl.

Never mind me, my dear.

As you know, I’m not a gentleman,
and I was never educated.

Oh, but nobody would know it, I assure you.
You look all right, you know.

Well, thank you very much.

Charlie, I think you’d better
play something for us.

Oh, perhaps that sort of thing
isn’t in your line.

- I’m particularly fond of music.
- Are you? Well, you mustn’t expect too much.

- Do you play, Barbara?
- Only the tambourine.

But it’s useful for taking the collections in
at the end of our meetings.

It’s not my doing, Andrew.
Barbara’s old enough to go her own way.

She has no father to advise her.

Oh, yes, she has. There are no orphans
in the Salvation Army.

Your father, dear, has a great many children
and plenty of experience, hmm?

How did you come to understand that?

Charles, play us something at once.

♪♪ One moment, Mr. Lomax.

I’m rather interested
in the Salvation Army.

Its motto might be my own.
“Blood and fire.”

But-But not your sort
of blood and fire, you know.

Come down tomorrow to my shelter
at Limehouse and see what we’re doing.

We’re going to march
to a great meeting at the Albert Hall.

Come and see the shelter
and then march with us.

It’ll do you a lot of good.
Can you play anything?

In my youth, I earned pennies
and even shillings occasionally...

in the streets and public house parlors...

by my natural talent for step dancing.

Later on I became a member
of our factory’s orchestral society...

and performed passably
on the tenor trombone.

Well, that’s splendid.

Many a sinner has played himself into heaven
on the trombone, thanks to the Army.

Really, Barbara. You go on as if religion
were a pleasant subject.

Do have some sense of propriety.

I don’t find it
an unpleasant subject, my dear.

It’s the only one capable people really...

care for.

Well, if you’re determined to have it...

I insist on having it
in a proper and respectable way.

This seems to be an admirable occasion
for family prayers.

- Oh, I say.
- Charles, ring the bell.

I’m afraid I must be going.

You can’t go so soon, Andrew.
It would be most improper. Sit down.

My dear, I have conscientious scruples.

May I suggest a compromise?

If Barbara will conduct a little service
elsewhere, I’ll attend it willingly.

I’d even take part
if a trombone can be procured.

Don’t mock, Andrew.

You don’t think I’m mocking,
my love, I hope.

No, of course not.
And it wouldn’t matter if you were.

Half the Army came
to their first meeting for a joke.

Come along to the nursery, Papa.
Come on, Dolly. Cholly.

I will not be disobeyed by everybody.

Adolphus, sit down.
Charles, you may go.

You’re not fit for prayers.
You cannot keep your countenance.

But you, Adolphus,
can behave yourself if you choose to.

I insist on your staying.

My dear Lady Brit, there are things
in the family prayer book...

that I couldn’t bear to hear you say.

What things, pray?

Well, you’d have to say before everyone...

we’ve done those things
we ought not to have done.

Left undone those things we ought
to have done, there’s no healthiness...

and I couldn’t bear to hear you
doing yourself such an injustice.

As to myself, I-I flatly deny it,
so I must go.

Well, go, and remember this, Adolphus.

I have a very strong suspicion that you went
to the Salvation Army to worship Barbara...

and nothing else.

And I quite appreciate the very clever way
in which you systematically humbugged me.

I found you out.
Take care Barbara doesn’t.

- That’s all.
- Don’t give me away.

Sarah, if you want to go, go.

Anything’s better than to sit there as if you
wished you were a thousand miles away.

Very well, Mama.

- Mother, what’s the matter?
- Nothing. Foolishness.

You can go with them, too, if you like,
and leave me alone.

Oh, you mustn’t think that, Mother.
I don’t like him.

The others do.
That’s the injustice of a woman’s lot.

A woman has to bring up her children.

That means to punish them,
to deny them things they want...

to do all the unpleasant things.

And then the father, who has nothing to do
but to pet them and spoil them...

comes in when all her work is done...

and steals their affection from her.

Have you ever saved
a maker of cannons?

- No. Would you let me try?
- I’ll make a bargain with you.

If I go to see you tomorrow
in your Salvation shelter...

will you come the day after
to see me in my cannon works?

Take care. It may end in your giving up
the cannons for the sake of the Salvation Army.

Are you sure it won’t end
in your giving up the Salvation Army...

for the sake of my cannons?

- I’ll take my chance of that.
- And I’ll take my chance of the other.

- Where is your shelter?
- In Limehouse, at the sign of the cross.

Ask anybody in Chinatown.
Where are your works?

At Perivale St. Andrews,
at the sign of the sword.

Ask anybody in Europe.

♪ Onward, Christian soldiers ♪

♪ Marching as to war ♪

♪ With the cross of Jesus ♪

♪ Going on before ♪♪

What ya, Major?

- Feeling better after your meal, sir?
- No. Call this a meal?

Good enough for you perhaps.
What is it to me, an intelligent working man?

- Working man?
- Yes.

What are you?

- Painter.
- Yes, I daresay.

- Yes. Three-10 a week, when I can get it.
- Why don’t you go and get it?

Shall I tell you why?
’Cause I’m intelligent.

Yes, intelligent beyond the station of life into
which it has pleased the capitalists to call me.

- And they don’t like a man
that sees through them.
- Yeah.

And second, an intelligent human being
needs his due share of happiness...

so I drink something cruel
when I gets the chance.

Third, I stand up for me class
and do as little as I can...

so as to leave half the job
for me fellow workers.

And fourth, I’m fly enough to know
what’s inside the law and what’s outside it.

And inside it, I do as the capitalists do –
pinch what I can lay me hands on.

- What’s your name?
- Price.

Bronterre O’Brien Price.
Snobby Price for short. What’s yours?

- Rummy Mitchens, sir.
- Your health, Miss Mitchens.

Mrs. Mitchens.
Mrs. Romola Mitchens.

What? Oh, Rummy, Rummy, Rummy.

Respectable married woman getting rescued by
the Salvation Army by pretending to be a bad ’un.

Oh, same old game.

But what was I to do?
I can’t starve.

These Salvation lasses is dear, good girls...

but the better you are, the worse they like
to think you was afore they rescued you.

Why shouldn’t they have their bit of credit,
the poor loves?

They’re wore to rags by their work.

And where would they get the money
to rescue us...

if we was to let on
that we was no worse than other people?

- That’s right.
- You know what ladies and gentlemen are.

Yeah. Thievin’ swine.

I wouldn’t say no to their job though,
Rummy, just the same.

Who saved you, Mr. Price?
Was it Major Barbara?

No. I come here on me own.

I’m going to be Bronterre O’Brien Price,
the converted painter.

I know what they like. I’m gonna tell ’em
how I blasphemed and gambled...

and whopped me poor old mother.

- You used to beat your mother?
- Not likely. She used to beat me.

You come and listen to the converted painter,
and you’ll hear how she was a pious woman...

that taught me me prayers
at her knee...

and how I used to come home
blind drunk...

and drag her out of bed by her snow-white hair
and lay into her with a poker.

That’s what’s so unfair to us women.

- Your confessions is just as big lies as ours is.
- Yeah.

But you men could stand up
and tell your lies right out at the meeting...

and be made much of for it...

while the sort of confessions
we has to make...

has to be whispered
to one lady at a time.

- ’Tain’t right, in spite of all their piety.
- Right?

Do you suppose the Salvation Army’d
be allowed if it went and did right?

Not much. It combs our hair and turns us into
good little blokes to be robbed and put upon.

But I can play the game
as good as any of ’em.

I’ll – I’ll see somebody struck by lightning
or I’ll hear a voice saying...

“Snobby Price,
where will you spend eternity?”

- Oh, I’ll have a time of it, I can tell you.
- Mmm.

Come. Pluck up. You’ll be all right.

Oh, poor old man.
Cheer up, brother.

You’ll find rest and peace
and happiness here.

Hurry up with the food, miss.
He’s fair done.

- I shan’t be long.
- Buck up, daddy.

She’s gonna fetch you a nice, thick slice
of bread and scrape and a mug of sky blue.

Keep up your old heart.
Never say die.

I ain’t a old man. I’m only 49.

Why, that gray patch come in my hair
afore I was 30.

Am I to be turned out in the street
to starve for it...

and my job given to a younger man
what can’t do it no better than I can?

Well, no good jawin’ about it.

You’re only a jumped-up, checked-off
hospital-turnout incurable of an old working man.

Who cares about you, eh?

You make the thieving swine
give you a square meal.

They’ve stolen plenty from you.
You get a bit of your own back.

Ah, there we are, brother.

Now, you ask her blessing
and tuck that into you. Go on. There.

Well, I – I never took nothing afore.

Oh, come, come. The Lord wasn’t above
taking bread from his friends.

So why should you be?

Besides, when we find you a job,
you can pay us for it if you like.

Yes, miss. Yeah, that’s right.
I – I can pay you back.

It’s only a loan.

Well, Rummy,
are you more comfortable today?

Bless you, lovey. You fed my body
and saved my soul, didn’t ya?

You look ready to drop.

- Sit down and rest a bit.
- Oh, not yet, Rummy.

There’s more work than we can do.
I mustn’t stop.

You’ll try a prayer for just two minutes.

You’ll work all the better after.

Oh, isn’t it wonderful
how a few minutes’ prayer revives you?

I was quite light-headed this morning,
I was so tired.

But Major Barbara just sent me to pray
for five minutes...

and I was able to go on
as if I’d only just begun.

Did you have a piece of bread, Mr. Price?

Yes, miss, but I got the peace
that I value more...

and that’s the peace
that passeth all understanding.

Glory, hallelujah!

Oh, that makes me so happy. When you
say that, I feel wicked for loitering here.

Oh, I must get to work again.

Oh! There you go. Hi! Hi!

- Hello, Bill. Found your girl?
- Garn!

I know you.

You’re the one what took my girl away,
aren’t you?

You’re the one what set her against me.

Well, I’ve come to get her out, see?

Tell her Bill Walker wants to see her.
She’ll know what that means.

And you start to jaw back at me,
and I’ll start on you, you hear?

There’s your way. In you go!

Easy there, mate!
She ain’t done you no harm.

Who are you callin’ “mate”?
Standin’ up for her, are you?

- Put up your hands!
- You great brute!

Oh, God forgive you.
How could you strike an old woman like that?

You go and forgive me again,
and I’ll go and forgive you one on the jaw...

that’ll stop you praying for a week!

- Have you anything to say against that?
- No, matey. She ain’t nothin’ to do with me.

Good job for you, you starved cur.

Now, are you gonna fetch
that Mog Habbijam...

or am I gonna knock your block off
and fetch her out myself, eh?

Oh, please, someone go in
and tell Major Barbara!

There, you want to tell your major
on me, do you?

Please don’t drag my hair!
Let me go!

Do you or don’t you? Yes or no?

Oh, God, give me strength.

- Oh!
- Go and show her that and tell her...

if she wants one like it
to come and interfere with me!

You!

Here, finish your mess
and get out of my way.

You take a liberty with me, and I’ll bash your
face with this mug and cut your eye out.

Come in shoving and bullying
your way in here...

with the bread of charity
sittin’ in our stomachs.

What good are you,
you old palsy maggot?

- What good are you?
- As good as you and better!

I’ll do a day’s work again’ you or any other
fit, young soaker of your age.

Well, what do you know?
Not even how to behave yourself.

Coming in here and laying your dirty fist
across the mouth of a respectable woman.

Don’t provoke me to lay it across yours.
Do you hear?

Yeah, you’d like to hit a old man,
wouldn’t you...

after you’ve done with the women!

I ain’t seen you with a young man yet.

You lie, you old soup-kitchener, you.

There was a young man here just now.
Did I offer to hit him, or did I not?

Was he starving, or was he not?

Was he a man...

or just a cross-eyed thief and a loafer?

Would you hit my son-in-law’s brother?

- Who is he?
- Todger Fairmile of Balls Pond.

Him what won that £20 off
the Japanese wrestler at the music hall...

for standing up again’ him
for 17 minutes, 14 seconds.

I ain’t no music hall wrestler.

- Can he box?
- Yes! And you can’t.

What? I can’t, can I?
What’s that you say?

Will you box Todger Fairmile
if I puts him on to you?

I’ll stand up to any man alive
if he was 10 Todger Fairmiles...

but I don’t set up to be a professional.

Here, what am I doing talking to
an old mutter like you for?

I’m goin’ in there to fetch her out!

You’re gonna be carried to the police station
on a stretcher, more likely.

You mind what you’re about.

- Why, haven’t you heard that the major here
is a granddaughter of a earl?
- Garn!

- You’ll see.
- Well, I done nothing to her.

Suppose she says you did?

Who’s going to believe you?

God, there ain’t no justice
in this country.

- I’m as good as her!
- Tell her so.

It’s what a fool like you would do.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

Sit down. Make yourself at home.

Now then, since you’ve made friends with us,
we want to know all about you.

Name and trades, please.

Peter Shirley, fitter.

Chucked out of me job two months ago
’cause I was too old.

You’d pass still.
Why didn’t you dye your hair?

Oh, I did. But me age came out
at the coroner’s inquest on me daughter.

- Steady?
- Teetotaler.

Never out of a job before.
Good worker, and sent to the scrap heap.

No matter. If you did your part,
God will do his.

My religion’s no concern
to nobody but meself.

I know. Secularist.

- Did I offer to deny it?
- Why should you?

My own father’s a secularist, I think.

Our father – yours and mine –

fulfills himself in many ways...

and I daresay he knew what he was about
when he made a free thinker of you.

So buck up, Peter. We can always
find a job for a steady man like you.

- What’s your name?
- What’s it to you?

Afraid to give his name.
Any trade?

Who’s afraid to give his name?

If you’ve got a charge
to bring against me, bring it!

My name’s... Bill Walker.

Bill Walker.

Oh, you’re the man that little Jenny Hill
was praying for inside just now.

Who’s Jenny Hill,
and what call’s she got to pray for me?

I don’t know.
Perhaps it was you that cut her lip.

Yes, it was me what cut her lip.
I ain’t afraid of you.

How can you be,
since you’re not afraid of God?

You’re a brave man, Mr. Walker.

It takes some pluck for us
to carry on our work here...

but none of us dare lift a hand against a girl
like that for fear of her father in heaven.

I don’t want none of your cantin’ jaw, see?

I suppose you think I came here to beg
from you, like this damaged lot here.

Not me. I don’t want none
of your bread and scrape.

And I don’t believe in your God neither,
no more than what you do yourself.

Oh, I beg your pardon
for putting your name down, Mr. Walker.

I didn’t understand.
I’ll strike it out.

Here, you let my name alone.
Ain’t my name good enough to go in your book?

Well, you see, there’s not much point
in me putting your name down...

if I can’t do anything for you.

- What’s your trade?
- That’s no concern of yours.

Quite so. I’ll put you down as...

the man who struck
poor little Jenny Hill in the mouth.

Now see here.
I’ve had enough of this!

- What did you come here for?
- I came for my girl, see?

I came to take her out of this
and to break her jaw for her.

You see, I was right about your trade.
What’s her name?

Her name? Mog Habbijam.
That’s what her name is! Mog.

Mog Habbijam. Oh, she’s gone
to Tower Bridge to our shelter there.

Has she? Then I’m going to
the Tower Bridge after her.

Here.

Are you lying to me
so as you can get shod of me?

I don’t want to get shod of you.

I want to keep you here
and save your soul.

You better stay. You’re going to
have a bad time today, Bill.

Who’s gonna give it to me?
You perhaps?

Someone you don’t believe in.

But you’ll be glad afterwards.

Yes. Well, I’m going to the Tower Bridge
to get out of the reach of your tongue.

And if I don’t find Mog there...

I’ll come back
and I’ll do two years for you.

So help me if I don’t.

It’s no use, Bill.

- She’s got another bloke.
- What’s that?

He fell in love with her
when he saw her with her soul saved...

and her face clean
and her hair washed.

Well, what did she wash it for,
the carroty cat? It’s red.

It’s quite lovely now because she wears
a new look in her eyes to go with it.

It’s a pity you’re too late, Bill.

The new bloke’s put your nose
right out of joint.

I’ll put his nose out of joint for him!
Not that I care a curse for her, mind that.

But I’ll teach her to drop me as if I was dead,
and I’ll teach him to meddle with my Judy.

- What’s his bleeding name?
- Sergeant Todger Fairmile.

I’ll go with him, miss.
I want to see them two meet.

And I’ll take him to the infirmary
when it’s over.

Here. Is, uh – Is that him
what you were speaking of?

- That’s him.
- Him what wrestled with the Jap?

That’s him. He’s given up fighting for religion,
so he’s a bit fresh for want of exercise.

But he’ll be very glad to see you.
Come along.

- Here. What’s his weight?
- Fourteen-five.

Go and talk to him, Bill.
He’ll convert you.

He’ll convert your head
into a mashed potato.

I ain’t afraid of him.
I ain’t afraid of nobody.

But he can lick me.

She’s done me.

You ain’t going?

I thought not.

- Jenny. Jenny!
- Yes, Major?

Send Rummy Mitchens out here
to clear away.

- Oh, I think she’s afraid.
- Nonsense. She’ll do as she’s told.

Rummy! Rummy,
the major says you must come.

Oh, all right! I’m coming then.

Poor little Jenny.
Are you tired?

- Does it hurt?
- No, it’s all right now. It’s nothing.

But as hard as he could hit, I expect.

Poor Bill. You don’t feel
angry with him, do you?

Oh, no, no. Indeed I don’t, Major.

Bless his poor heart.

Now, come on, Rummy. Bustle.

Take in these mugs and plates to be washed
and throw those crumbs about for the birds.

There ain’t got to be no crumbs.

This ain’t the time
to waste good bread on birds!

Major. Major!

- Major Barbara!
- Well, my dear.

Hello, Papa. So you kept your promise.

I’ll get the law on you, you flat-eared,
pig-nosed potwallopper, you...

if she’d let me!

You’re no gentleman, you ain’t,
to hit a lady in the face!

Here. In with ya, before ya
get yourself into more trouble.

Ha! I ain’t never had the pleasure
of being introduced to you...

as I can remember.

- Welcome to the shelter, sir.
- Look at the old beaver!

- What’s the matter?
- Don’t talk to me, you hear?

You leave me alone,
or I’ll do you a mischief.

- I ain’t dirt under your feet anyhow.
- Don’t you be afeared.

You ain’t such prime company
as you need expect to be sought after.

- Get out, will you!
- Oh, there you are, Mr. Shirley.

This is my father.
I told you he was a secularist, didn’t I?

Perhaps you’ll be able
to comfort one another.

A secularist? Not the least in the world.
On the contrary, I’m a confirmed mystic.

I’m sorry. By the way, Papa...

what is your religion
in case I have to introduce you again?

My religion? My dear, I’m a millionaire.
That’s my religion.

Then I’m afraid you and Mr. Shirley won’t
be able to comfort one another after all.

You’re not a millionaire, are you, Peter?

No. And proud of it.

Poverty, my friend,
isn’t a thing to be proud of.

Who made your millions for you?

Me and my like.

What kept us poor?
Keeping you rich!

I wouldn’t have your conscience,
not for all your income!

And I wouldn’t have your income,
not for all your conscience, Mr. Shirley.

You wouldn’t think he was my father,
would you, Peter?

Will you go into the kitchen
and lend the lasses a hand?

Oh, yes, I – I’m in their debt
for a meal, ain’t I?

No, not because you’re in their debt,
but for love of them, Peter.

For love of them.

There now, don’t stare at me.
In with you.

And give that conscience of yours
a holiday.

Oh, never mind me, my dear.

You just go about your work
and let me watch it for a while.

Very well, Papa.

For instance, what’s the matter
with this outpatient over here?

Oh, we’ll cure him in no time.
Just wait.

It would be nice just to stamp
on Mog Habbijam’s face, wouldn’t it, Bill?

It’s a lie. I never said so!

- Who told you what was in my mind?
- Only your new friend.

- What new friend?
- The devil, Bill.

When he gets round people,
they get miserable, just like you.

- I ain’t miserable.
- Well, if you’re happy, why don’t you
look happy, as we do?

I’m happy enough, I tell ya.
Why can’t you leave me alone?

What have I done to you?
I ain’t smashed your face in, have I?

- It’s not me that’s getting at you, Bill.
- Who else is it?

Somebody that doesn’t intend you
to smash women’s faces, I suppose.

Somebody, or something,
that wants to make a man of you.

Make a man of me? Ain’t I a man, eh?
Who says I’m not a man?

Well, there’s a man in you somewhere,
I suppose.

But why did he let you go
and smash little Jenny Hill’s face?

Now, that wasn’t very manly of him, was it?

Have done with it, I tell you! Chuck it!
I’m sick of your Jenny Hill and her silly face!

Then why do you keep thinking about it?

Why does it keep coming up
against you in your mind?

You’re not getting converted,
are you, Bill?

- Not me! Not likely!
- That’s the spirit!

Hold out against it. Put out your strength.
Don’t let us get you cheap.

Todger Fairmile said he wrestled
against his salvation harder...

than he ever wrestled
with the Jap at the music hall.

He gave in to the Jap
when his arm was going to break...

but he didn’t give in to his salvation
till his heart was going to break.

Oh, perhaps you’ll escape that.
You haven’t any heart, have you, Bill?

Why ain’t I got a heart,
same as what anybody else has?

Well, a man with a heart wouldn’t have smashed
poor little Jenny Hill’s face, would he?

Leave me alone, will ya?
Have I ever meddled with you?

Naggin’ and provokin’ me like this!

It’s your soul that’s hurting you, Bill,
and not me.

We’ve been through it all ourselves.

Come with us, Bill, to brave manhood on earth
and eternal glory in heaven.

Come.

Oh, there you are, Dolly.

I want to introduce a new friend of mine,
Mr. Bill Walker.

Bill, this is my bloke, Mr. Cusins.

- What? Going to marry him?
- Yes.

Heaven help him. Heaven help him.

Why? Don’t you think
he’ll be happy with me?

Well, I’ve only had to stand it for an afternoon.
He’ll have to stand it for a lifetime.

That is a frightful reflection, Mr. Walker,
but I can’t tear myself away from her.

Well, I can. Here. Do you know where
I’m going to and what I’m gonna do?

Yes. You’re going to heaven, and you’re coming
back here before the week’s out to tell me so.

You lie. I’m going to Tower Bridge
to spit in Todger Fairmile’s eye.

I bashed Jenny Hill’s face in.

Well, now I’ll get me own face bashed
and come back and show it to her.

He’ll hit me harder than what I hit her.
That will make us square.

Is that fair, or is it not?
You’re a gentleman. You ought to know.

But two black eyes
won’t make one white one, Bill.

Can’t you never keep your mouth shut?
I asked the gentleman.

Yes, I think you’re right, Mr. Walker.
Yes, I should do it.

It’s curious. It’s exactly what
an ancient Greek would have done.

But what good will it do?

Well, it’ll give Mr. Fairmile some exercise,
and it will satisfy Mr. Walker’s soul.

There ain’t no such thing as a soul.

How can you tell whether I’ve got a soul
or not? You ain’t never seen it.

I’ve seen it hurting you
when you went against it.

If you was my girl and took the words
out of my mouth like that...

I’d give you something
you’d feel hurting, I would.

You take my tip, mate.

Stop her jaw,
or you’ll die afore your time.

Wore out, that’s what you’ll be.

Wore out.

- I wonder.
- Dolly!

Yes, my dear, it’s very wearing
being in love with you.

If it lasts,
I quite think I shall die young.

Should you mind?

Not in the least.

- Well.
- Oh, Papa! We’ve not forgotten you.

- We’re ready, miss.
- Yes, I’m coming, Snobby.

Now, Dolly, explain the place to Papa...

and don’t get up
to any mischief, you two.

Whoa.

Once the rowdiest pub in the district.
Barbara has converted it.

- She’s quite original in her methods.
- Barbara Undershaft would be.

Her inspiration comes
from within herself.

It’s the Undershaft inheritance.

I shall hand on my torch
to my daughter.

She shall make my converts
and preach my gospel.

- What, money and gunpowder?
- Yes, money and gunpowder.

Freedom and power,
command of life and command of death.

This is extremely interesting,
Mr. Undershaft.

- Of course, you know you’re mad.
- And you?

Oh, mad as a hatter.

You’re welcome to my secret,
now I’ve discovered yours.

I’m astonished.
Can a madman make a cannon?

Would anyone else
but a madman make them?

And now, question for question.

Can a sane woman make a man of a waster,
or a woman of a worm?

Are there two mad people, or three,
in this shelter today?

You mean Barbara is as mad as we are?

My dear professor, let’s call things
by their proper names.

I am a millionaire. You’re a Greek scholar.
Barbara is a savior of souls.

What have we three to do with
the common mob of slaves and idolaters?

Take care. Barbara’s in love
with the common people. So am I.

Have you never felt
the romance of that love?

Romance?

Have you ever been in love with poverty,
like St. Francis?

You ever been in love with dirt,
like St. Simeon?

Have you ever been in love
with disease and suffering...

like our nurses and philanthropists?

Such passions are unnatural.

This love of the common people...

may please an earl’s granddaughter
and a university professor...

but I’ve been a poor man
and a common man...

and it has no romance for me.

Leave it to the poor to pretend
that poverty is a blessing.

We know better than that.

We three must stand together
above the common people...

and help their children
to climb up beside us.

Barbara must belong to us,
not to the Salvation Army.

Well, I can only say that if you think you can
get her away from the Salvation Army...

by talking to her as you’ve been talking to me,
then you don’t know Barbara.

My friend, I never ask for what I can buy.

Do I understand you to imply
that you can buy Barbara?

No, but I can buy the Salvation Army.

Tell that to Barbara, if you dare.

I’ve hardly ever seen them so much moved
as they were by your confession, Mr. Price.

I could almost be glad of me past wickedness
if it’d help to keep others straight.

Oh, it will, Snobby. It will.

Oh, Father. We’ve just had
the most wonderful experience.

Snobby Price drew
our biggest crowd for months.

Jenny. How much?

Four and 10 pence, Major.

Oh, Snobby. If you’d given
your poor mother just one more kick...

we should have got
the whole five shillings.

If she heard you say that, miss,
she’d be sorry I didn’t.

Oh, what a joy it will be to her
when she hears I’m saved.

Shall I contribute
the odd tuppence, Barbara?

The millionaire’s mite, hmm?

How did you make that tuppence?

As usual, my dear.
By selling cannons, torpedoes and submarines.

Put it back in your pocket.

You can’t buy your salvation here for tuppence.
You must work it out.

Isn’t tuppence enough?
I could afford a little more, if you press me.

Two million millions
would not be enough.

Your kind of money’s no use.
Take it away.

Dolly, you must write another letter
to the papers for me.

- Oh!
- I know you don’t like it, but it must be done.

I’ll get it.

The general says we’ve got to close
this shelter if we can’t get more money.

I’ve forced the collections at the meetings
until I’m ashamed, don’t I, Snobby?

Oh, it’s a fair treat
to see the way you work it, Major.

The way you got ’em up from three-and-six
to four-and-10 with that hymn...

penny by penny
and verse by verse...

was a caution.

Not a cheap jack on Mile End Waste
could have touched her at it.

- Excuse me, sir.
- I wish we could do without it.

What use are these hatfuls of pennies
and ha’pennies?

We want thousands, tens of thousands,
hundreds of thousands.

I want to convert people,
not to be always begging for the Army...

in a way I’d sooner die
than beg for myself.

But how are we to feed them?

I can’t talk religion to a man
with bodily hunger in his eyes.

- Oh, it’s frightful.
- Oh, Major, dear.

Now, don’t comfort me, Jenny.
It’s all right.

- We’ll get the money.
- How?

By praying for it, of course.

It was the general. She’s coming
to march with us to our big meeting...

and she’s very anxious to meet you
for some reason or other.

- Perhaps she’ll convert you.
- My dear, I shall be delighted.

- Half a bitter, and put some gin in it.
- Dog’s nose. Right-o, mate.

Here you go.

- You all know who I am.
- No. Who are ya?

Todger Fairmile,
champion boxer, wrestler and swimmer.

Good old Todger.

Some of you have put money on me
and won it.

- And some of us have lost it.
- Right.

You’ll lose no more money that way.

I may ask you for a penny or two presently
to put in the young lass’ tambourine.

I’ve been promoted sergeant
in the Salvation Army!

Yes. It’s easier than fighting, ain’t it?

No, Corky, it’s not easier,
but it’s ever so much happier.

And who told you I’d given up fighting?

I was born a fighter,
and please God, I’ll die a fighter.

But the ring was too small
for a champion like me.

It was no satisfaction to me
to knock out some poor fellow...

who’d been set up against me
for a purse of money...

or hold his shoulders down on the mat.

It was too easy, and there was
no future in it for either of us.

You don’t say so.

One day I gave an exhibition spar
for the benefit of charity.

Our general was there,
and I was introduced to her.

She said to me –
I was a wonderful young man.

And she asked me, was I saved?

“No,” says I, “but I can go 15 rounds with
Tommy Farr if you’d like to put up the money.”

“Of course you can,” she said,
“but can you go, not 15 rounds...

but eternity with the devil,
for no money at all?”

Well, I tried to make light of it...

but it stuck...

and a week later,
I took the count for the first time...

and I joined up.

And now I fight the devil all the time.

And I’ll say this for him, Corkey.

He fights fairer and harder
than some champs we’ve tackled.

But God is against him...

and in that sign, we shall conquer!

Now, shall we have another hymn?

- You’re Todger Fairmile, are ya?
- Sergeant Fairmile at your service.

You’re the one
what took my girl away, are you?

- Name of Mog Habbijam.
- Bill! Don’t you know me?

Blimey! It’s her voice.
Here. Here, what have you done to yourself?

- What’s he done to you?
- Sergeant, it’s Bill Walker that was my bloke.

And I’m so changed, he doesn’t know me.

We’ll make the same change in you, Bill.

Is that what you’ve come for?

I’ve come to get my face changed right enough,
and you’re the one what’s gonna change it.

Take that.

Now here’s my jaw.

Go on. Hit it.
Hit it your best. Break it!

Oh, that I should be found worthy
to be spit upon for the Gospel’s sake.

Hit it!

- Glory, hallelujah!
- Glory, hallelujah!

Bill, you shouldn’t have done that!
You’ve spit in the face of your salvation!

Listen here, you. Do you know a slip of a girl
named Jenny Hill, one of your Limehouse lasses?

We do. Has she converted you?

Keep your mind off this conversion business
and listen to what I’m sayin’.

I broke Jenny Hill’s jaw this morning.

Oh, no, you didn’t, Bill.

’Tain’t so easy to break her jaw as you think.
You haven’t got the punch for it.

You hit her in the face
like the fine, bold fellow you are...

and now you want to forgive yourself
and you find you can’t...

unless I give you a blow back
harder than you can hit.

Friends, this man is on the way
to his salvation.

Let us all pray for him.

- Kneel down, Bill.
- Get out with ya!

- You will kneel down, brother.
- Get him on his knees.

Here, you leave me alone!

What do you think I’m made of, cast iron?

Brother, pray with us.

Dear Lord,
break his stubborn spirit...

but don’t hurt his dear heart.

Never mind my dear heart!
How ’bout my ribs?

♪ Tell me the old, old story ♪

♪ Of unseen things above ♪♪

Major!

Major?

Major, that man’s back again!

- Who?
- The one that hit me!

Oh, I hope he’s come back to join us!

- Well?
- Get out.

Hello, Bill.
Back already?

- Been talking ever since, have ya?
- Pretty nearly.

Has Todger paid you out
for poor Jenny’s jaw?

No, he ain’t. You want to know
where the dirt come from, don’t ya?

- Yes.
- It come off the ground at Tower Bridge, see.
It got rubbed off by my shoulders.

It’s a pity it wasn’t rubbed off by your knees.
That would have done you a lot of good.

I was saving another man’s knees
at the time.

Mind, I did what I said I’d do –
spit in his eye.

And Mog said, “Glory, hallelujah!”
and he called me brother...

and darned me as if I was a kid and he was
me mother washing me on a Saturday night.

Kneelin’ on me head, he was!

Fourteen stone five,
prayin’ comfortable with me as a carpet!

Served you right, Bill!
Oh, I wish I’d been there!

Yes, you’ve had got an extra bit
of talk on me, wouldn’t ya?

- Yes.
- I’m so sorry, Mr. Walker.

Don’t you go bein’ sorry for me.
What I done I’ll pay for.

I tried to get me own jaw broke
to satisfy you.

- Oh, no!
- I tell you, I did!

And if I can’t satisfy you one way,
then I can another.

Listen.

Here’s my last quid.

Now take it, and let’s have no more of your
forgivin’ and pryin’ and your major jawing at me!

Oh, no, I couldn’t take it,
Mr. Walker.

But if you would give a shilling or two of it
to poor Rummy Mitchens.

You really did hurt her,
and she’s old.

Not me. Not likely.
I’d give her another as soon as look at her.

She ain’t forgiven me. Not much.

It’s this Christian game of yours
I won’t have played up against me!

I won’t have it, I tell you!

So take your money and stop throwing
your silly bashed face up against mine!

Major, may I take a little of it
for the Army?

No. The Army’s not to be bought.

Bill, we want your soul,
and we’ll take nothing less.

I know. Me and my few bob
ain’t good enough for you.

You’re an earl’s granddaughter, you are.

Nothing less than a hundred pound
would do for you.

Come, Barbara. You could do a great deal
of good with a hundred pounds.

If you’ll set this gentleman’s mind at ease
by taking his pound...

I’ll give you the other 99.

Oh, Papa, you’re too extravagant.

Bill offers 20 pieces of silver.
All you need offer is the other 10.

That will make the standard price
to buy anybody who’s for sale.

Well, I’m not and the Army is not.

Bill, you’ll never have another quiet moment
until you come round to us.

You can’t stand out
against your salvation.

I can’t stand out against music hall wrestlers
and artful-tongued women.

I’ve offered to pay,
and I can’t do no more.

There it is.
Take it or leave it.

- The general!
- The general!

Mr. Walker, apparently we’re in the same boat.

Perhaps we can help each other.
You’d better come and see me.

- I don’t want none of your charity.
- It’s not charity I’m offering you. It’s work.

My dear, it was an inspiration
to have asked your father here today.

God needs him, Major.
God needs him.

This is my father, General.
Try what you can do with him.

He won’t listen to me because he remembers
what a fool I was when I was a baby.

Have you been shown
over the shelter, Mr. Undershaft?
You know the work we’re doing, of course.

The whole nation knows it, madam.

No, sir, the whole nation
does not know it...

or we should not be crippled as we are
for want of money...

to carry our work through
the length and breadth of the land.

Let me tell you that there would have been
trouble this winter in London but for us.

- You really think so?
- I know it.

I remember last year when all you rich gentlemen
hardened your hearts against the cry of the poor.

They demonstrated
outside your clubs in Piccadilly.

And actually walked into the Ritz
and demanded a meal.

I remember very well.

Well, won’t you help us to get at the people?
They won’t demonstrate then.

Come here, my man.

Let me show you to this gentleman.

You remember the epidemic
of window smashing?

Remember it?
I was the ringleader, ma’am.

- Would you break windows now?
- Oh, no, ma’am.

The windows of heaven
have been opened to me.

I know now that the rich man
is a poor sinner like meself.

Begging your pardon, ma’am.

Mr. Price,
your mother’s asking for you.

She’s heard about your confession.

Go, my friend.
Go to your mother and pray for her.

You could come through
the kitchen, Mr. Price.

I couldn’t face her now, ma’am,
not with the weight of me sins fresh on me.

Tell her she’ll find her son at home
waiting for her in prayer.

You see how we take the anger and bitterness
out of their hearts, Mr. Undershaft?

I do indeed, madam.

Who’s been bashin’ whose mother?

Barbara. Jenny.

I have good news.
Most wonderful news.

- Our prayers have been answered.
- Yes.

Have we got enough money
to keep the shelter open?

I hope we shall have enough money
to keep all the shelters open.

Lord Saxmundham
has promised us £50,000.

- Hooray!
- Glory!

- If –
- If what?

If five other gentlemen
will give 10,000 each...

to make it
up to the hundred thousand.

But who is Lord Saxmundham?
I never heard of him.

A new creation, my dear.
Did you ever hear of Sir Horace Bodger?

Bodger? Do you mean the distiller?
Bodger’s Whiskey?

Yes, that’s the man. He’s one of
the greatest of our public benefactors.

He restored the cathedral at Hakington.
They made him a baronet for that.

He gave half a million to the funds of his party.
They made him a viscount for that!

- What’ll they give him for the 50,000?
- There’s nothing left to give him.

So the 50,000, I imagine,
is to save his soul.

Heaven grant it may.

Oh, Mr. Undershaft,
you have some very rich friends.

Can’t you help us
towards the other 50,000?

We’re going to hold a great meeting
this evening at the Albert Hall.

If I could only announce that one gentleman had
come forward to support Lord Saxmundham...

others would follow.

Don’t you know somebody?
Couldn’t you? Wouldn’t you?

Oh, think of those poor people,
Mr. Undershaft.

Think of how much it means to them
and how little to a great man like you.

Madam, you are irresistible.
I can’t disappoint you.

And I can’t deny myself the satisfaction
of making Bodger pay up.

You shall have your 50,000.

- Thank God.
- You don’t thank me, madam?

Oh, sir, don’t try to be cynical.
Don’t be ashamed of being a good man.

The Lord will bless you abundantly...

and our prayers will be like a strong fortification
around you all the days of your life.

You’ll let me have the check
to show at the meeting, won’t you?

- Uh, Mr. Duffin.
- Thank you. I prefer my own.

What price salvation now, eh?

Stop!

General, are you really
going to take this money?

- Why not, my dear?
- Why not?

Do you know what my father is?

Have you forgotten that Lord Saxmundham
is Bodger the whiskey man?

Don’t you know that the worst thing
I’ve had to fight here is not the devil...

but Bodger, Bodger, Bodger...

with his whiskey and his distilleries
and his tied houses!

Rotten drinkin’ whiskey it is too.

Are you going to make this place
another tied house and ask me to keep it?

Dear Barbara, Lord Saxmundham
has a soul to be saved like any of us.

I know he has a soul to be saved.

Let him come down here,
and I’ll do my best to help him to his salvation.

But he wants to send his check down here
to buy us and go on being as wicked as ever.

My dear Barbara,
alcohol is a very necessary article.

- It heals the sick.
- It does nothing of the sort.

Well, it makes life bearable...

for millions of people who couldn’t
enjoy their existence if they were quite sober.

It enables parliament to do things
at 11:00 at night...

which no sane person would do
at 11:00 in the morning.

Is it Bodger’s fault if this inestimable gift
is deplorably abused...

by less than one percent of the poor?

Barbara, will there be
less drinking or more...

if all those poor souls we are saving...

come tomorrow and find the doors
of the shelter shut in their faces?

Lord Saxmundham gives us this money
to stop drinking...

to take his own business from him.

Pure self-sacrifice on Bodger’s part, clearly.

Bless dear Bodger.

I also, General, may claim
a little disinterestedness.

Think of my business.

Think of the widows and orphans,
the oceans of blood...

not one drop of which is shed
in a really just cause.

All this makes money for me.

I’m never busier, never richer
than when the papers are full of it.

Well, it’s your work to pitch
peace on earth and goodwill towards men.

Every convert you make
is a vote against war.

Yet I give you this money...

to help hasten
my own commercial ruin.

The millennium will be inaugurated
by the unselfishness of Undershaft and Bodger.

Oh, be joyful!

Oh, what an infinite goodness
one finds in everything.

Who would have thought that any good
could come out of war and drink?

Oh, dear!
How blessed, how glorious it all is!

A miracle!

Let us seize this unspeakable moment.
Let us march to the great meeting at once!

- Our shelter’s saved!
- Hooray!

The Army’s saved!

Bless the general!

Everybody’s saved!

Glory, hallelujah!
Glory, hallelujah!

On to the meeting! On!

Come on, let’s go!

Mr. Undershaft, have you ever seen 5,000 people
fall on their knees with one impulse and pray?

Come with us to the meeting.

Barbara shall tell them that the Army is saved,
and saved through you!

You shall carry the flag
down the first street, General.

Mr. Undershaft is a gifted trombonist.
He shall march with us, blasting us to high heaven!

Blow, Machiavelli, blow!

I’ll do my best.
I could vamp a bass if I knew the tune.

It’s a wedding chorus from Donizetti’s operas,
but we’ve converted it!

We convert everything here...

including Bodger!

You remember the chorus?

“For thee, immense rejoicing!
Immenso giubilo! Immenso giubilo!”

♪ Rum-dum, de-dum-dum ♪

Dolly, you’re breaking my heart.

What’s a broken heart more or less here?

St. Undershaft and St. Bodger have descended,
the patron saints of peace and temperance!

I am possessed!

Come, Barbara. I must have my dear major
to carry the flag with me.

Yes, yes, dear Major.

I can’t come.

- Not come?
- Barbara.

Do you think I’m wrong
to take this money?

No. God help you, you must.

You’re saving the Army.

Go! Go, and may you have
a great meeting.

But aren’t you coming?

No.

Barbara, what are you doing?

Major, you can’t be going to leave us.

Father, come here.

My dear –

No, don’t be frightened.

There.

It’s not much for £50,000, is it?

Barbara, if you won’t
come and pray with us...

promise me you’ll pray for us.

I can’t pray now.

Perhaps I shall never pray again.

- Barbara!
- Major!

- I can’t bear any more.
- Barbara!

Quick! March!

Come on, Machiavelli!

I must go now, my dear.

You’re overworked.
You’ll be all right tomorrow.

We’ll never lose you.

Now, Jenny, step out with the old flag.
Blood and fire!

Glory, hallelujah!

Glory, hallelujah!

Hey, up there!
“Immenso Giubilo!”

Blood and fire!

My ducats and my daughter!

Money and gunpowder!

Drunkardness and murder.

My God...

why hast thou forsaken me?

What price salvation now?

Don’t you hit her when she’s down.

She hit me when I was down.
Why shouldn’t I get a bit of my own b –

Here, where’s my money gone?

Blimey, if Jenny Hill
didn’t take it after all.

You lie, you dirty blackguard!

Snobby Price pinched it!
I seen him do it!

What, stole my money?

Why didn’t you call thief on him,
you silly old mucker you!

Served you right
for hitting me across the face.

That’s cost you a pound, that has!

I done ya!
I got even with ya!

I’ve had it out on ya!

You can’t afford to lose it, Bill.

I’ll send it to you.

Not if I was to starve for it.

I ain’t to be bought.

Ain’t ya?

You sell yourself to the devil
for a pint of beer.

So I would, and often have cheerful!

But she can’t buy me.

You wanted my soul, did ya?

Well, you ain’t got it.

I nearly got it, Bill...

but we’ve sold it back to you
for £50,000.

And dear at the money!

- No, it was worth more than money.
- It’s no good.

You can’t get round me now.
I don’t believe in it.

And I’ve seen today...

that I was right.

So long, old soup-kitchener!

Ta-da, Major Earl’s granddaughter!

What price salvation now?

Snobby Price.

- Good-bye, Bill.
- Get out!

But that’s all right, you know.

Nothing personal.

No malice.

So long...

Judy.

No malice.

So long, Bill.

All clear, Rummy.

He’s gone.

You make too much of him, miss,
in your innocence.

Better too much than too little, Rummy.

Yes, miss.

God forgive me.

Let’s go, Peter.

Peter, I’m like you now –

cleaned out, lost my job.

You’ve youth and hope.
That’s two better than me.

I’ll get you a job, Peter.
That’s hope for you.

The youth will have to be enough for me.

I’ve just enough left
for two good teas and my bus home.

Don’t be proud, Peter.

It’s sharing between friends.

And promise me
you will talk to me and...

not let me cry.

♪ Steadily forward march ♪

♪ To Jesus we will bring ♪

♪ Sinners of every kind ♪

♪ And he will take them in ♪

♪ Rich and poor as well ♪

♪ It does not matter who ♪

♪ Bring them in with all their sin ♪

♪ He’ll wash them white as snow ♪♪

Let us pray.

Amen.

The general!

Friends, we have a duty tonight
which we must not forget.

God has answered our prayers
wonderfully...

by sending us a great gift...

one that will enable us
to get through many winters...

as bitter as this one has been...

without stinting one of his children
of their little ration of bread and milk...

and their warm blanket in the shelter.

You all know the name
of the nobleman who, under God...

was the instrument
of the first half of that gift.

You will pray for him
and rejoice in his salvation.

Glory! Hallelujah!

God bless Lord Saxmundham!

You do not know the name
of that other generous servant of God...

who has made up
the whole sum for us...

and I must not tell it to you...

for he is one of those who does not
let his right hand know...

what his left hand doeth.

Friends, he is here
among us tonight!

This afternoon, when he announced
his magnificent offering to me...

I exclaimed, “Thank God!”

He smiled and said...

“You do not thank me?”

I told him to come to this meeting
and he would hear how we thanked him.

He has come...

and you have kept my word for me.

My friends...

you may not know him
on this side of the grave...

but when we cross the river...

over there...

he will be there with us still...

and you will know him
by the seal of God on his brow.

Glory!

We will now sing our old favorite,
“Abide with Me.”

♪ Abide with me ♪

♪ Fast falls the eventide ♪

♪ The darkness deepens ♪

♪ Lord, with me abide ♪

♪ When other helpers fail ♪

♪ And comforts flee ♪♪

♪♪ This is rather more than I bargained for.

Come and have supper with me at my flat.
I’ve got something to say to you.

We’ll pick up a cab outside.

Yes, but I must call at Wilton Crescent
to ask if Barbara has got home safely.

Never mind Barbara.
She can look after herself.

Her uniform will protect her
better than 10 policemen.

Come on. It’s about Barbara
I want to talk to you.

Now then, what’s your game?

I’ve been watching you.

Don’t try throwing yourself after that bonnet
and giving me the trouble of fishing you out.

- Because you won’t be let do it, see.
- That’s what you thought, is it?

Even if I wanted to throw away my life,
I wouldn’t risk yours.

You’ll excuse me, miss,
but are you quite yourself this evening?

I’m not at all sure.

I’ve walked a very long way
and I’ve become quite tired suddenly.

Do you think you could find me a taxi
to take me home?

Taxi, miss?

What you want, by the look of you,
is an ambulance.

Ambulance?

When she said,
“You don’t thank me, madam.”

A remarkable woman.

- It’s nice and warm in here.
- Help yourself, my friend.

- Have some brandy.
- No, thanks. I’ll have some water.

My throat’s still dry.

I don’t know how to sing, and the result
of my attempts at the meetings...

is always incipient laryngitis.

Oh! Ohh!

Look out!
You’ll set the chimney on fire!

Burnt my throat!
What on earth is it?

It’s all right. It’s only vodka.
It won’t hurt you.

Try some of that temperance burgundy.
It will wash away the sting.

He may call it
a temperance burgundy, sir...

but I should be sorry to venture on
more than one glass of it myself.

Nonsense.
After that awful stuff it’s like milk.

Steady. Steady.

My burgundy isn’t as mild as it seems.

- Ohh!
- Are you all right?

- Perfectly.
- Good.

You don’t mind if I get rid of this.

That means you’re getting rid of Barbara.

- Not at all.
- Yes, she refused to swallow Bodger’s whiskey.

Do you think she’s any more likely
to swallow your money and gunpowder?

She’s swallowed a good deal of it
already, my friend.

What do you suppose she’s been
living on all these years?

You think you’ll end by
making me swallow them, don’t you?

Both of you will have to swallow them.

They are mystical powers
above and behind the three of us...

that will make short work
of your scruples.

Do you think I don’t know all about
the mystical powers, Machiavelli?

Do you remember what Euripides said
about your money and gunpowder?

No.

“One, then another,
in money and guns...

“may outpass his brother...

“and then in their millions
float and flow...

“and seethe with
a million hopes as leaven.

“And they win their will
or they miss their will...

“and their hopes are dead
or are pined for still.

“But whoe’er can know,
as the long days go...

that to live is happy
has found his heaven.”

That’s my translation.
What do you think of it?

I think, my friend, that if you wish
to know as the long days go...

that to live is happy...

you must first acquire money enough
for a decent life...

and power enough
to be your own master.

Mmm.
You’re damnably discouraging.

“What else is wisdom?

“What of man’s endeavor
or God’s high grace...

“so lovely and so great...

“to stand from fear set free...

“to breathe and wait...

“to hold a hand uplifted over fate?

And shall not Barbara
be loved forever?”

Oh. Euripides mentions Barbara,
does he?

It’s a fair translation.
The word means “loveliness.”

And may I ask, as Barbara’s father,
how much a year she is to be loved forever on?

As Barbara’s father,
that’s more your affair than mine.

I can feed her by teaching Greek.
That’s about all.

Do you consider it
a good match for her?

Mr. Undershaft, I am in many ways
a weak, timid, ineffectual person...

and my health is far from satisfactory...

but whenever I feel
I must have anything...

I get it sooner or later.

I feel that way about Barbara.

I don’t like marriage.
I feel intensely afraid of it.

I don’t know what I shall do with Barbara
or what she’ll do with me...

but I feel that I, and nobody else,
must marry her.

Please regard that as settled.

Not that I wish to be arbitrary, but why should I
waste your time in discussing what’s inevitable?

- You mean you’ll stick at nothing?
- Precisely.

Professor Cusins,
you’re a young man...

after my own heart.

Mr. Undershaft, you are, as far as I’m
able to gather, a most infernal old rascal...

but you appeal very strongly
to my sense of ironic humor.

Good.

We shall get on well together.

Have you ever thought
about going into business?

My business?

Money and gunpowder?

Never.

Barbara’s money will come from it.

Why not help to earn it?
Have you thought of that at all?

I, uh – I –

Look here, Machiavelli,
I am interested in thought reading...

and have, in fact,
made some experiments in it...

but I object to your trying it on me.

When my head is clear,
I’ll tell you exactly what I think.

Just at present
I’m in a state of exaltation.

I don’t know why.

Perhaps it’s the excitement
of that meeting.

Phew!
The room is very hot.

Might we have a window open
for a moment?

- Certainly. James.
- Mmm?

- I should like a breath of fresh air myself.
- Sir?

Draw back those curtains
and open the window, will you?

- It’s a very windy night, sir.
- So much the better.

It’s only for a moment.

Ah, what a relief!

- Steady, Machiavelli, steady!
- Lend a hand, will you!

- Quick!
- Right, sir!

I am afraid he’s here for the night, sir.

Nobody down yet?

Mr. Stephen’s down, milady,
and is having breakfast.

Miss Barbara’s gone up, I suppose.

- No, milady, Miss Barbara is not up yet.
- Not up yet?

- Are you sure?
- Quite sure, milady.

Miss Barbara came in late last night
and said she was not to be called.

Not to be called?
Was she quite well?

A little pale, milady,
and without her bonnet.

I hadn’t much time to notice.

She went straight upstairs and left me to
settle with the policemen and the ambulance.

Policemen? Ambulance?
There must have been some accident.

Are you certain she wasn’t hurt?

I can assure you
she was quite all right, milady.

Well.

What have you laid
all those extra places for?

You’re expecting Mr. Cusins
and Mr. Lomax, milady.

The car’s ordered for half past 10:00
to take the party to, uh – to, uh –

Well? To where?

To Mr. Undershaft’s place, I think, milady.

- To the factory, you mean?
- Well, yes, milady.

The factory pays your wages, Morrison.

Yes, milady. That is what factories are for.
We must put up with them.

- Bacon and eggs, milady, as usual?
- No, I’ll have a sausage this morning.

Yes, milady.

Ah, breakfast!
Oh, good morning, Lady Brit!

- You’re late, Charles. Where’s Adolphus?
- I haven’t the faintest idea.

Good morning, darling!
Morrison, we’re starving!

- Ah, bacon and eggs.
- Sausages!

Sausages, good.
No kidneys. Morrison?

- Kidneys, sir.
- Ah, thank heaven for the English breakfast.

You know, as I always say,
the one drawback about going abroad –

Charles Lomax, if you must drivel, drivel like
a grown-up man and not like a schoolboy.

Drivel is drivel, you know,
whatever a man’s age.

Good morning, everybody.

- Good morning, Barbara.
- Morning!

Good heavens!
Y-You’ve chucked the uniform.

You mean that Barbara’s changed
her dress, Charles. Why not say so?

Cholly means exactly what he says, Mother.
Please, let’s drop the subject.

Oh, I-I’m awfully sorry, Barbara.

You’ll get over it, you know.

Personally, I never shut my eyes
to the fact...

that there’s a certain amount of tosh
about the Salvation Army.

- On the other hand –
- That’s enough, Charles.

Speak of something suited
to your mental capacity.

Thank you for your sympathy, Cholly.

Now go and flirt with Sarah.

Darling.

Barbara, I wish you wouldn’t
tell Cholly to do things.

- He always comes straight away and does them.
- Darling.

Good morning, Lady Brit.

- Good morning, Charley.
- Good morning.

- Morning!
- Good morning.

Just some water, please, Morrison...

with ice in it.

I say, old boy,
did you have a bad night?

No, I had a very good night.

In fact, one of the most
remarkable nights I ever passed.

- The meeting?
- No, after the meeting.

You ought to have gone to bed after
the meeting. What were you doing?

Drinking.

- Adolphus!
- Dolly!

- I say!
- What were you drinking, may I ask?

A most devilish Russian spirit.
I believe it was vodka.

Are you joking, Dolly?

No. I’ve been making a night of it with
the nominal head of this household, that’s all.

Andrew made you drunk?

No, he just provided the drink.

Tell you the truth,
I’ve never been quite drunk before.

I rather liked it last night.

I told you I was possessed.

Possessed? You’re not sober yet.
Go home to bed at once.

I’ve never before ventured
to approach you, Lady Brit...

but how could you marry
the prince of darkness?

It was much more excusable to marry him
than to get drunk with him.

That’s a new accomplishment of Andrew’s,
by the way. He usen’t to drink.

He doesn’t now, although he had
an admirable excuse for doing so last night.

You see, he’d just given away £50,000.

- Given away?
- Yes, to the Salvation Army.

And he insisted
upon remaining anonymous.

That was rather fine of the old boy, you know?
Most chaps would have wanted the advertisement.

He said all the charitable institutions...

would be down on him like kites
on a battlefield if he gave his name.

That’s Andrew all over. Never does a proper
thing without giving an improper reason for it.

He convinced me that I have all my life been
doing improper things for proper reasons.

Mr. Undershaft has just arrived.

He’s in the drawing room, milady.

Children, go and get ready.
Your father doesn’t like to be kept waiting.

Adolphus.

Now that Barbara’s left the Salvation Army,
you had better leave it too.

I will not have you
playing that drum in the streets.

Your order is already obeyed, Lady Brit.

Blah!

How fortunate to see you alone.

Don’t be sentimental, Andrew.

Sit down.

Sarah must have 800 a year
until Charles comes into his property.

Barbara will need more –
need it permanently –

because Adolphus
hasn’t any property.

Yes, my dear. I shall see to it.
Anything else? For yourself, for instance?

I want to talk to you about Stephen.

Don’t, my dear.
Stephen doesn’t interest me.

He does interest me!

- He’s our son!
- Do you really think so?

Andrew, don’t be aggravating
and don’t be wicked! At present, you’re both.

Do you pretend that Stephen
couldn’t carry on the foundry...

just as well as all the other sons
of big business houses?

Yes, he could learn the office routine...

without understanding the business
like all the other sons.

Stephen is a most steady,
capable, high-minded young man.

You’re simply trying to find an excuse
for disinheriting him.

My dear, the Undershaft tradition
disinherits him.

But I must admit
it’s landed me in a difficulty.

As you yourself remark, I’m getting on in years
and I haven’t found a fit successor yet.

- There is Stephen.
- That’s just it.

All the foundlings I can find
are exactly like Stephen.

I want a man with no relations
and no schooling.

That is, a man who would be out of the running
altogether if he weren’t a strong man...

and I can’t find him.

If you want to keep the business in the family,
you’d better find an eligible foundling...

and marry him to Barbara!

You would sacrifice Stephen to Barbara?

Cheerfully! Come, Biddy –

Don’t call me Biddy!
I don’t call you Andy!

And your tie’s all on one side.
Put it straight.

- Oh, I – I beg your pardon.
- No, come in, Stephen.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

I understand you want
to come into the cannon business.

I, go into trade?

Certainly not.

Cannons are not trade, Stephen.
They’re a national enterprise.

I have no intention of becoming
a man of business in any sense.

I intend to devote myself to politics.

My dear boy,
this is an immense relief to me...

and I trust it may prove
an equally good thing for the country.

Stephen, I cannot allow you to throw away
an enormous property like this.

Mother, there must be an end
of treating me as a child, if you please.

Any further discussions had better take place
with my father as between one man and another.

- Stephen!
- I am sorry, Mother, that you have false –

I quite understand, Stephen.

By all means, go your own way,
if you feel strong enough.

You see, my dear, it’s only the big men
who can be treated like children.

All right, Stephen, your independence
is achieved. You’ve won your latchkey.

Now, what about your future,
just between one man and another?

It’s settled that you don’t ask for succession
to the cannon business.

I hope it is settled
that I repudiate the cannon business.

My dear boy, don’t be so devilish sulky.
Freedom should be generous.

Besides, I owe you a fair start in life
in exchange for disinheriting you.

You can’t become prime minister
all at once, you know.

Haven’t you a turn for something?
What about literature, art and so forth?

I have nothing of the artist about me,
either in faculty or character, thank heaven.

A philosopher, perhaps.

I make no such ridiculous pretension.

Just so. Well, then, there’s the army,
the navy, the church and the bar.

The bar requires some ability.

What about the bar?

I’m afraid I haven’t the necessary push.

I believe that is the name that barristers
give their vulgarity for success in pleading.

Rather a difficult case, Stephen.

Hardly anything left but the stage,
is there?

Well, is there anything you know
or care for?

I know the difference
between right and wrong.

You don’t say so!

What? No capacity for business?

No knowledge of law?
No sympathy with art?

No pretension to philosophy.

Only a simple knowledge of the secret
that has baffled all the lawyers...

muddled all the men of business
and ruined most of the artists –

the secret of right and wrong.

Why, man, you’re a genius!

A master of masters!

A god.

And at 28 too.

You are pleased to be facetious.

I pretend to nothing more than any honorable
Englishman claims as his birthright.

Oh, very well.
Have it your own way.

You know nothing,
and you think you know everything.

That points clearly to a political career.

We’ll get you a private secretaryship to someone
who can get you an under-secretaryship...

and you’ll find your natural
and proper place in the end –

on the treasury bench.

I’m sorry, sir, that you force me to forget
the respect due to you as my father.

I am an Englishman, and I will not hear
the government of my country insulted.

The government of your country.

I am the government of your country.
I and Lazarus.

Do you suppose that you
and half a dozen amateurs like you...

sitting in a row
in that foolish gabble shop...

can govern a country like England?

Be off with you, my boy,
and play with your historic parties...

and leading articles
and burning questions...

and the rest of your toys.

And in return, you shall have
the support and applause of my newspapers...

and the delight of imagining
that you’re a great statesman.

Really, my dear Father...

it’s quite impossible
to be angry with you.

I suppose it is natural for you
to think that money governs England...

but you must allow me
to think I know better.

And what does govern England, pray?

Character, Father, character.

Whose character? Yours or mine?

Neither yours nor mine, Father...

but the best elements
in the English national character.

Stephen,
I’ve found your profession for you!

You’re a born journalist!

We must get you a job on the Times.

- M-M-Mother –
- Don’t be apologetic, Stephen.

- Yes, but –
- And don’t forget you’ve outgrown your mother.

Good morning, Morrison.

Shall we see you again this evening, sir?
I’ll have your room ready for you.

No, by George!

You look a little pale, my dear.

I’ve made you unhappy, haven’t I?

Do you understand
what you’ve done to me?

Yesterday I had a man’s soul
in my hand.

I set him in the way of life
with his face to salvation.

And when we took your money he turned
back again to drunkenness and derision.

I’ll never forgive you that.
Never.

Does my daughter despair so easily?

Can you strike a man to the heart
and leave no mark on him?

You forget, my dear, Bill Walker spat
in Todger’s eye to save his honor.

He gave up his hard-earned pound
to save his soul.

Do you know what a pound means
to such a man?

It’s your faith that’s failing, not his.

Will he ever strike a woman again
as he struck Jenny Hill?

You’ve sent him on the road
to his salvation.

It may not be your road,
but he won’t turn back.

Oh, yes, you’re right.

He can never be lost now.

Where was my faith?

Oh, clever, clever devil.

You may be a devil,
but God speaks through you sometimes.

You’ve given me back my happiness
and I can feel it deep down now...

though my spirit is troubled.

You’ve learnt something, my dear. That always
feels, at first, as if you’d lost something.

What have Barbara and I got to do with
your factory of death? That’s what I ask myself.

I’ve always thought of it
as a sort of pit...

where lost creatures with blackened faces
stirred up smoking fires...

and were driven and tormented
by my father.

- Is it like that, Papa?
- My dear, you’ll see for yourself.

Raw materials of destruction.

Or construction.
How about railway lines, for instance?

Astonishing.

Remember the words of Plato?

Plato? You dare quote
a Greek philosopher to me?

Plato says, my friend,
that society cannot be saved...

until either the professors of Greek
take to making gunpowder...

or else the makers of gunpowder
become professors of Greek.

My predecessors, the old swordsmiths,
used the same stuff – boiling steel.

Have you found anything
discreditable?

Nope.

The men call him Dandy Andy
and are proud he’s a cunning old rascal.

Well?

You’re driving me against my nature.
I hate war.

Hatred is the coward’s revenge
for being intimidated.

Dare you make war on war...

here are the means.

Well, Euripides?

You coming into my business?

Understand this, you old demon –
You have me in a horrible dilemma.

I want Barbara.

Like most young men,
you greatly exaggerate the difference...

between one young woman
and another.

Quite true, Dolly.

I refuse to walk another step through
all these sheds and pipes and boilers.

They mean nothing to me.

I’ve never asked you to come look
at the kitchen range and the scullery sink.

Why is that roof making a noise
like a whale with asthma?

It’s breathing, my love.
Come and see.

This is ridiculous.
Is it snow, or salt, or what?

Nitrates to make explosives.

Or sulfates to fertilize your fields.

If you prefer the explosive way,
that’s your affair, not mine.

Come, Euripides, you think that nitrates
are good for nothing but death.

Now I’ll show you
the sort of life they produce.

This is where my workers live.
Here they own everything and I own nothing.

- Sort of a cooperative touch, huh?
- Exactly, Mr. Lomax.

It makes it very difficult for them
to leave my employment.

- But then they don’t want to leave it.
- Why?

Because they can’t better themselves,
my love.

- Slavery, I call it.
- Do you, my dear?

- Sort of ideal church exhibition, what?
- Exactly, Mr. Lomax.

It’s the result of our belief
in religious freedom.

Its official name is the meeting place
of all the religions.

The men call it Piety Square.

Are you sure that all this pampering
is really good for the men’s characters?

My dear boy,
when you’re organizing civilization...

you have to make up your mind whether
trouble and anxiety are good things or not.

If you decide that they are, then I take it
you simply don’t organize civilization.

Good morning.

However, our characters are safe here.

A sufficient dose of anxiety
is always provided...

by the fact that we may all be
blown to smithereens at any moment.

- Well?
- Not a ray of hope.

Everything perfect, wonderful, real.

It only needs a cathedral to be
a heavenly city instead of a hellish one.

And to think of all that being yours,
and you’ve kept it to yourself all these years.

It doesn’t belong to me, I belong to it.
It’s the Undershaft inheritance.

It is not.

Your ridiculous cannons and that noisy, banging
foundry may be the Undershaft inheritance...

but all that plate and linen, all those houses
and orchards and gardens, they belong to us.

They belong to me. They’re not
a man’s business. I won’t give them up!

- What lovely flowers.
- Never mind about the flowers, Andrew.

You’re trying to put me off the subject
of the inheritance. Well, you shan’t.

I don’t ask it any longer for Stephen.

He’s inherited far too much
of your perversity to be fit for it.

But Barbara has rights
as well as Stephen.

Why should not Adolphus
succeed to the inheritance?

I should ask nothing better
if Adolphus were a foundling.

He’s exactly the sort of new blood
that’s wanted in English business.

But he’s not a foundling,
and there’s an end of it.

Not quite.

I think – Mind, I’m not committing myself
in any way as to my future course...

but I think the foundling difficulty
can be got over.

- What do you mean?
- Well, I have something to say
which is in the nature of a confession.

- A confession?
- A confession?

Yes, a confession.

Listen, all of you.

Won’t you sit down?

Until I met Barbara, I thought myself
in the main an honorable, truthful man...

because I wanted the approval of my conscience
more than I wanted anything else.

But the moment I saw Barbara, I wanted her
far more than the approval of my conscience.

- Adolphus!
- I thought she was a woman of the people...

and that a marriage with a professor of Greek
would be far beyond...

the wildest social ambitions of her rank.

- Adolphus!
- No, really!

- When I learnt the horrible truth –
- What do you mean by the horrible truth, pray?

That she was enormously rich,
that her grandfather was an earl,
that her father was the prince of darkness –

- Shh!
- And that I was only an adventurer
trying to catch a rich wife...

then I stooped to deceive her
about my birth.

- Dolly!
- Your birth?

Adolphus, don’t dare make up a wicked story
for the sake of these wretched cannons.

Remember, I’ve seen photographs
of your parents.

The agent general for Southwestern
Australia knows them personally...

and has assured me they are
the most respectable married people.

Oh, so they are, in Australia.
But here they’re outcasts.

Their marriage is legal in Australia,
but not in England.

My mother is my father’s
deceased wife’s sister...

and in this island
I am, consequently, a foundling.

I think not. You can marry your wife’s sister
even in England.

Ah, you can now,
but not when my parents married.

Is the subterfuge good enough,
Machiavelli?

You’re an educated man.
That’s against the tradition.

Greek hasn’t destroyed my mind,
it’s nourished it.

Beside, I didn’t learn it
in an English public school.

Biddy, this may be a way
out of the difficulties.

Stuff! A man cannot make cannons any better for
being his own cousin instead of his proper self.

Well, I can’t afford to be too particular.
He’s cornered the foundling market.

Let it pass.

You’re eligible, Euripides,
you’re eligible!

You know that you’ll have to change
your name. You object to that?

Would any man named Adolphus –
any man called Dolly –

object to being called
something else?

Hardly.

Now, as to money, I propose to treat you
handsomely from the beginning.

You shall start at a thousand a year.

A thousand?

You dare offer a miserable thousand
to the son-in-law of a millionaire?

No, by heavens, Machiavelli,
you shall not cheat me.

You can’t do without me,
and I can do without you.

I must have, uh, £2,500 a year
for two years.

At the end of that time,
if I’m a failure I go.

But if I’m a success and stay on,
you must give me the other 5,000.

What other 5,000?

To make the two years up to 5,000 a year.

The 2,500 is only half pay,
in case I should turn out a failure.

The third year I must have, uh,
10% of the profits.

Ten per – Do you know
what my profits are?

Enormous, I hope!

Otherwise, I shall require 25%.

But, Mr. Cusins, this is
a serious matter of business.

You’re not bringing any capital
into the concern.

What? No capital?

Is my mastery of Greek no capital?

Is my access to the subtlest thought...

the loftiest poetry yet attained
by humanity no capital?

My character? My intellect?
My life? My career?

And what Barbara calls my soul?

Are these no capital?

- Say another word, and I double my salary.
- Be reasonable.

Mr. Undershaft, you have my terms.
Take them or leave them.

Very well. I note your terms,
and I offer you half.

- Half?
- Half.

You call yourself a gentleman,
then you offer me half?

I don’t call myself a gentleman,
but I offer you half.

This to your future partner,
your successor, your son-in-law?

Leave me out
of the bargain please, Dolly.

You’re selling your own soul,
not mine.

Come, I’ll go a step further for Barbara’s sake.
I’ll give you three-fifths, but that’s my last word.

- Done!
- Done in the eye.

By the way, Mac, I’m a classical scholar,
not an arithmetical one.

Is three-fifths more than half or less?

More, of course.

I’d have taken 250.

How you can succeed in business...

when you’re willing to pay all that money
to a university professor...

who obviously isn’t worth
a junior clerk’s wages, well –

What’ll Lazarus say?

He’ll be blamed for your rapacity
in money matters, poor fellow...

as he’s hitherto been blamed for mine.

You’re a shark of the first order,
Euripides.

So much the better for the firm.

Dolly, old fellow, think.
Think before you decide.

Do you feel that you’re
a sufficiently practical man?

It’s a huge undertaking.

An enormous responsibility.

All this mess of business
will be Greek to you.

I think it’ll be
much less difficult than Greek.

- Bill!
- Hello, Judy!

What you think of it?
Got meself a job – £3.10 a week!

How’s that for salvation, eh?

Barbara.

You understand, don’t you,
that I had to decide without consulting you.

If I had left this choice to you,
you’d sooner or later have despised me for it.

Your father’s challenge has beaten me.

Dare I make war on war?

I dare. I must!

I will.

And now, is it all over between us?

Silly baby Dolly.

How could it be?

Then you – You –

Oh, for my drum!

Take care, Dolly, take care.

Oh, if only I could get away from you,
from Father, and from it all.

- And leave me?
- Yes.

But I can’t.

I was happy for a moment
in the Salvation Army...

but as soon as our money ran short
it all came back to Bodger.

Undershaft and Bodger.

Their hands stretch everywhere...

and as long as that lasts
there’s no getting away from them.

Turning our backs on them
is turning our backs on life.

Do you know what would have happened
if you’d refused Papa’s offer?

- I wonder.
- I should have given you up
and married the man who’d accepted it.

After all, my dear old mother’s
got more sense than any of you.

I felt like her when I saw this place,
felt that I must have it...

that never, never, never could I let it go.

Only she thought it was all the houses
and kitchen ranges and linen and china.

But it was really
all the human souls to be saved.

Not weak souls in starved bodies...

sobbing with gratitude
for a scrap of bread and scrape...

but souls that are hungry...

because their bodies are full.

My father shall never throw it in my teeth again
that my converts were bribed with bread.

I have got rid of the bribe of bread.

I have got rid of the bribe of heaven.

Let God’s work be done
for its own sake –

the work that he had
to create us to do...

because it cannot be done
except by living men and women.

Then the way of life
lies through the factory of death.

Yes, through the raising of hell to heaven
and of man to God...

through the unveiling
of an eternal light...

in the valley of the shadow.

Oh, did you think that my courage
would never come back?

Did you believe
that I was a deserter...

that I, who have stood in the streets
and taken my people to my heart...

and talked of the greatest
and holiest of things with them...

could ever turn back
and chatter foolishly...

to fashionable people
about nothing in a drawing room?

Never, never, never, never!

Sooner than that
I’d sweep out the gun-cotton sheds...

or be one of Bodger’s barmaids.

Major Barbara
will die with the colors!

Glory, hallelujah.

Mama! Mama!

- Well, what did she say?
- She’s gone right up into the skies!

- Mama!
- Well, Barbara, what do you want?

A house in the village
to live in with Dolly!

6:00 tomorrow morning, Euripides!

I’ll see the whole place blown up with
its own dynamite before I get up at 5:00!

Here! Remember my tip, mate.

Stop her jaw,
or you’ll die afore your time!

Wore out, that’s what you’ll be!
Wore out!