Covent Garden at 11.15 p.m. Torrents of heavy summer
rain. Cab whistles blowing frantically in all
directions. Pedestrians running for shelter into the
market and under the portico of St. Paul's Church,
where there are already several people, among them a
lady and her daughter in evening dress. They are all
peering out gloomily at the rain, except one man with
his back turned to the rest, who seems wholly
preoccupied with a notebook in which he is writing
busily.
The church clock strikes the first quarter.
THE DAUGHTER [in the space between the central pillars,
close to the one on her left] I'm getting chilled to
the bone. What can Freddy be doing all this time? Hes
been gone twenty minutes.
THE MOTHER [On her daughter's right] Not so long. But
he ought to have got us a cab by this.
A BYSTANDER [on the lady's right] He wont get no cab
not until half-past eleven, missus, when they come back
after dropping their theatre fares.
THE MOTHER
But we must have a cab. We cant stand here
until half-past eleven. It's too bad.
THE BYSTANDER
Well, it aint my fault, missus.
THE DAUGHTER
If Freddy had a bit of gumption, he would
have got one at the theatre door.
THE MOTHER
What could he have done, poor boy?
THE DAUGHTER
Other people got cabs. Why couldnt he?
Freddy rushes in out of the rain from the Southampton
Street side, and comes between them closing a dripping
umbrella. He is a young man of twenty, in evening
dress, very wet around the ankles.
THE DAUGHTER
Well, havnt you got a cab?
FREDDY
Theres not one to be had for love or money.
THE MOTHER
Oh, Freddy, there must be one. You cant
have tried.
THE DAUGHTER
It's too tiresome. Do you expect us to go
and get one ourselves?
FREDDY
I tell you theyre all engaged. The rain was so
sudden: nobody was prepared; and everybody had to take
a cab. Ive been to Charing Cross one way and nearly to
Ludgate Circus the other; and they were all engaged.
THE MOTHER
Did you try Trafalgar Square?
FREDDY
There wasnt one at Trafalgar Square.
THE DAUGHTER
Did you try?
FREDDY
I tried as far as Charing Cross Station. Did
you expect me to walk to Hammersmith?
THE DAUGHTER
You havnt tried at all.
THE MOTHER
You really are very helpless, Freddy. Go
again; and dont come back until you have found a cab.
FREDDY
I shall simply get soaked for nothing.
THE DAUGHTER
And what about us? Are we to stay here
all night in this draught, with next to nothing on. You
selfish pig--
FREDDY
Oh, very well: I'll go, I'll go. [He opens his
umbrella and dashes off Strandwards, but comes into
collision with a flower girl, who is hurrying in for
shelter, knocking her basket out of her hands. A
blinding flash of lightning, followed instantly by a
rattling peal of thunder, orchestrates the incident].
THE FLOWER GIRL
Nah then, Freddy: look wh' y' gowin,
deah.
FREDDY
Sorry [he rushes off].
THE FLOWER GIRL [picking up her scattered flowers and
replacing them in the basket] Theres menners f' yer!
Te-oo banches o voylets trod into the mad. [She sits
down on the plinth of the column, sorting her flowers,
on the lady's right. She is not at all an attractive
person. She is perhaps eighteen, perhaps twenty, hardly
older. She wears a little sailor hat of black straw
that has long been exposed to the dust and soot of
London and has seldom if ever been brushed. Her hair
needs washing rather badly: its mousy color can hardly
be natural. She wears a shoddy black coat that reaches
nearly to her knees and is shaped to her waist. She has
a brown skirt with a coarse apron. Her boots are much
the worse for wear. She is no doubt as clean as she can
afford to be; but compared to the ladies she is very
dirty. Her features are no worse than theirs; but their
condition leaves something to be desired; and she needs
the services of a dentist].
THE MOTHER
How do you know that my son's name is
Freddy, pray?
THE FLOWER GIRL
Ow, eez ye-ooa san, is e? Wal, fewd
dan y' de-ooty bawmz a mather should, eed now bettern
to spawl a pore gel's flahrzn than ran awy athaht pyin.
Will ye-oo py me f'them? [Here, with apologies, this
desperate attempt to represent her dialect without a
phonetic alphabet must be abandoned as unintelligible
outside London.]
THE DAUGHTER
Do nothing of the sort, mother. The idea!
THE MOTHER
Please allow me, Clara. Have you any
pennies?
THE DAUGHTER
No. I've nothing smaller than sixpence.
THE FLOWER GIRL [hopefully] I can give you change for a
tanner, kind lady.
THE MOTHER [to Clara] Give it to me. [Clara parts
reluctantly]. Now [to the girl] This is for your
flowers.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Thank you kindly, lady.
THE DAUGHTER
Make her give you the change. These
things are only a penny a bunch.
THE MOTHER
Do hold your tongue, Clara. [To the girl].
You can keep the change.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Oh, thank you, lady.
THE MOTHER
Now tell me how you know that young
gentleman's name.
THE FLOWER GIRL
I didnt.
THE MOTHER
I heard you call him by it. Dont try to
deceive me.
THE FLOWER GIRL [protesting] Whos trying to deceive
you? I called him Freddy or Charlie same as you might
yourself if you was talking to a stranger and wished to
be pleasant. [She sits down beside her basket].
THE DAUGHTER
Sixpence thrown away! Really, mamma, you
might have spared Freddy that. [She retreats in disgust
behind the pillar].
An elderly gentleman of the amiable military type
rushes into shelter, and closes a dripping umbrella. He
is in the same plight as Freddy, very wet about the
ankles. He is in evening dress, with a light overcoat.
He takes the place left vacant by the daughter's
retirement.
THE GENTLEMAN
Phew!
THE MOTHER [to the gentleman] Oh, sir, is there any
sign of its stopping?
THE GENTLEMAN
I'm afraid not. It started worse than
ever about two minutes ago. [He goes to the plinth
beside the flower girl; puts up his foot on it; and
stoops to turn down his trouser ends].
THE MOTHER
Oh, dear! [She retires sadly and joins her
daughter].
THE FLOWER GIRL [taking advantage of the military
gentleman's proximity to establish friendly relations
with him]. If it's worse it's a sign it's nearly over.
So cheer up, Captain; and buy a flower off a poor girl.
THE GENTLEMAN
I'm sorry, I havnt any change.
THE FLOWER GIRL
I can give you change, Captain.
THE GENTLEMEN
For a sovereign? Ive nothing less.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Garn! Oh do buy a flower off me,
Captain. I can change half-a-crown. Take this for
tuppence.
THE GENTLEMAN
Now dont be troublesome: theres a good
girl. [Trying his pockets] I really havnt any
change--Stop: heres three hapence, if thats any use to
you [he retreats to the other pillar].
THE FLOWER GIRL [disappointed, but thinking three
halfpence better than nothing] Thank you, sir.
THE BYSTANDER [to the girl] You be careful: give him a
flower for it. Theres a bloke here behind taking down
every blessed word youre saying. [All turn to the man
who is taking notes].
THE FLOWER GIRL [springing up terrified] I aint done
nothing wrong by speaking to the gentleman. Ive a right
to sell flowers if I keep off the kerb. [Hysterically]
I'm a respectable girl: so help me, I never spoke to
him except to ask him to buy a flower off me. [General
hubbub, mostly sympathetic to the flower girl, but
deprecating her excessive sensibility. Cries of Dont
start hollerin. Whos hurting you? Nobody's going to
touch you. Whats the good of fussing? Steady on. Easy,
easy, etc., come from the elderly staid spectators, who
pat her comfortingly. Less patient ones bid her shut
her head, or ask her roughly what is wrong with her. A
remoter group, not knowing what the matter is, crowd in
and increase the noise with question and answer: Whats
the row? What she do? Where is he? A tec taking her
down. What! him? Yes: him over there: Took money off
the gentleman, etc. The flower girl, distraught and
mobbed, breaks through them to the gentleman, crying
wildly] Oh, sir, dont let him charge me. You dunno what
it means to me. Theyll take away my character and drive
me on the streets for speaking to gentlemen. They--
THE NOTE TAKER [coming forward on her right, the rest
crowding after him] There, there, there, there! whos
hurting you, you silly girl? What do you take me for?
THE BYSTANDER
It's all right: hes a gentleman: look at
his boots. [Explaining to the note taker] She thought
you was a copper's nark, sir.
THE NOTE TAKER [with quick interest] Whats a copper's
nark?
THE BYSTANDER [inapt at definition] It's a--well, it's a
copper's nark, as you might say. What else would you
call it? A sort of informer.
THE FLOWER GIRL [still hysterical] I take my Bible oath
I never said a word--
THE NOTE TAKER [overbearing but good-humored] Oh, shut
up, shut up. Do I look like a policeman?
THE FLOWER GIRL [far from reassured] Then what did you
take down my words for? How do I know whether you took
me down right? You just shew me what youve wrote about
me. [The note taker opens his book and holds it
steadily under her nose, though the pressure of the mob
trying to read it over his shoulders would upset a
weaker man]. Whats that? That aint proper writing. I
cant read that.
THE NOTE TAKER
I can. [Reads, reproducing her
pronunciation exactly] "Cheer ap, Keptin; n' baw ya
flahr orf a pore gel."
THE FLOWER GIRL [much distressed] It's because I called
him Captain. I meant no harm. [To the gentleman] Oh,
sir, dont let him lay a charge agen me for a word like
that. You--
THE GENTLEMAN
Charge! I make no charge. [To the note
taker] Really, sir, if you are a detective, you need
not begin protecting me against molestation by young
women until I ask you. Anybody could see that the girl
meant no harm.
THE BYSTANDERS GENERALLY [demonstrating against police
espionage] Course they could. What business is it of
yours? You mind your own affairs. He wants promotion,
he does. Taking down people's words! Girl never said a
word to him. What harm if she did? Nice thing a girl
cant shelter from the rain without being insulted,
etc., etc., etc. [She is conducted by the more
sympathetic demonstrators back to her plinth, where she
resumes her seat and struggles with her emotion.]
THE BYSTANDER
He aint a tec. Hes a blooming busybody:
thats what he is. I tell you, look at his boots.
THE NOTE TAKER [turning on him genially] And how are
all your people down at Selsey?
THE BYSTANDER [suspiciously] Who told you my people
come from Selsey?
THE NOTE TAKER
Never you mind. They did. [To the girl]
How do you come to be up so far east? You were born in
Lisson Grove.
THE FLOWER GIRL [appalled] Oh, what harm is there in my
leaving Lisson Grove? It wasnt fit for a pig to live
in; and I had to pay four-and-six a week. [In tears]
Oh, boo--hoo--oo--
THE NOTE TAKER
Live where you like; but stop that
noise.
THE GENTLEMAN [to the girl] Come, come! he cant touch
you: you have a right to live where you please.
A SARCASTIC BYSTANDER [thrusting himself between the
note taker and the gentleman] Park Lane, for instance.
Id like to go into the Housing Question with you, I
would.
THE FLOWER GIRL [subsiding into a brooding melancholy
over her basket, and talking very low-spiritedly to
herself] I'm a good girl, I am.
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER [not attending to her] Do you
know where I come from?
THE NOTE TAKER [promptly] Hoxton.
Titterings. Popular interest in the note taker's
performance increases.
THE SARCASTIC ONE [amazed] Well, who said I didnt? Bly
me! You know everything, you do.
THE FLOWER GIRL [still nursing her sense of injury]
Aint no call to meddle with me, he aint.
THE BYSTANDER [to her] Of course he aint. Dont you
stand it from him. [To the note taker] See here: what
call have you to know about people what never offered
to meddle with you? Wheres your warrant?
SEVERAL BYSTANDERS [encouraged by this seeming point of
law] Yes: wheres your warrant?
THE FLOWER GIRL
Let him say what he likes. I dont want
to have no truck with him.
THE BYSTANDER
You take us for dirt under your feet,
dont you? Catch you taking liberties with a gentleman!
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER
Yes: tell h i m where he come
from if you want to go fortune-telling.
THE NOTE TAKER
Cheltenham, Harrow, Cambridge, and
India.
THE GENTLEMAN
Quite right. [Great laughter. Reaction
in the note taker's favor. Exclamations of He knows all
about it. Told him proper. Hear him tell the toff where
he come from? etc.]. May I ask, sir, do you do this for
your living at a music hall?
THE NOTE TAKER
Ive thought of that. Perhaps I shall
some day.
The rain has stopped; and the persons on the outside of
the crowd begin to drop off.
THE FLOWER GIRL [resenting the reaction] Hes no
gentleman, he aint, to interfere with a poor girl.
THE DAUGHTER [out of patience, pushing her way rudely
to the front and displacing the gentleman, who politely
retires to the other side of the pillar] What on earth
is Freddy doing? I shall get pneumonia if I stay in
this draught any longer.
THE NOTE TAKER [to himself, hastily making a note of
her pronunciation of "monia"] Earlscourt.
THE DAUGHTER [violently] Will you please keep your
impertinent remarks to yourself?
THE NOTE TAKER
Did I say that out loud? I didnt mean
to. I beg your pardon. Your mother's Epsom,
unmistakeably.
THE MOTHER [advancing between her daughter and the note
taker] How very curious! I was brought up in Largelady
Park, near Epsom.
THE NOTE TAKER [uproariously amused] Ha! ha! What a
devil of a name! Excuse me. [To the daughter] You want
a cab, do you?
THE DAUGHTER
Dont dare speak to me.
THE MOTHER
Oh, please, please Clara. [Her daughter
repudiates her with an angry shrug and retires
haughtily.] We should be so grateful to you, sir, if
you found us a cab. [The note taker produces a
whistle]. Oh, thank you. [She joins her daughter].
The note taker blows a piercing blast.
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER
There! I knowed he was a
plain-clothes copper.
THE BYSTANDER
That aint a police whistle: thats a
sporting whistle.
THE FLOWER GIRL [still preoccupied with her wounded
feelings] Hes no right to take away my character. My
character is the same to me as any lady's.
THE NOTE TAKER
I dont know whether youve noticed it;
but the rain stopped about two minutes ago.
THE BYSTANDER
So it has. Why didnt you say so before?
and us losing our time listening to your silliness. [He
walks off towards the Strand].
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER
I can tell where you come
from. You come from Anwell. Go back there.
THE NOTE TAKER [helpfully] Hanwell.
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER [affecting great distinction of
speech] Thenk you, teacher. Haw haw! So long [he
touches his hat with mock respect and strolls off].
THE FLOWER GIRL
Frightening people like that! How
would he like it himself.
THE MOTHER
It's quite fine now, Clara. We can walk to
a motor bus. Come. [She gathers her skirts above her
ankles and hurries off towards the Strand].
THE DAUGHTER
But the cab--[her mother is out of
hearing]. Oh, how tiresome! [She follows angrily].
All the rest have gone except the note taker, the
gentleman, and the flower girl, who sits arranging her
basket, and still pitying herself in murmurs.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Poor girl! Hard enough for her to live
without being worrited and chivied.
THE GENTLEMAN [returning to his former place on the
note taker's left] How do you do it, if I may ask?
THE NOTE TAKER
Simply phonetics. The science of
speech. Thats my profession: also my hobby. Happy is
the man who can make a living by his hobby! You can
spot an Irishman or a Yorkshireman by his brogue. I can
place any man within six miles. I can place him within
two miles in London. Sometimes within two streets.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Ought to be ashamed of himself,
unmanly coward!
THE GENTLEMAN
But is there a living in that?
THE NOTE TAKER
Oh yes. Quite a fat one. This is an age
of upstarts. Men begin in Kentish Town with £80 a year,
and end in Park Lane with a hundred thousand. They want
to drop Kentish Town; but they give themselves away
every time they open their mouths. Now I can teach
them--
THE FLOWER GIRL
Let him mind his own business and
leave a poor girl--
THE NOTE TAKER [explosively] Woman: cease this
detestable boohooing instantly; or else seek the
shelter of some other place of worship.
THE FLOWER GIRL [with feeble defiance] Ive a right to
be here if I like, same as you.
THE NOTE TAKER
A woman who utters such depressing and
disgusting sounds has no right to be anywhere--no right
to live. Remember that you are a human being with a
soul and the divine gift of articulate speech: that
your native language is the language of Shakespear and
Milton and The Bible; and dont sit there crooning like
a bilious pigeon.
THE FLOWER GIRL [quite overwhelmed, and looking up at
him in mingled wonder and deprecation without daring to
raise her head] Ah-ah-ah-ow-ow-ow-oo!
THE NOTE TAKER [whipping out his book] Heavens! what a
sound! [He writes; then holds out the book and reads,
reproducing her vowels exactly] Ah-ah-ah-ow-ow-ow-oo!
THE FLOWER GIRL [tickled by the performance, and
laughing in spite of herself] Garn!
THE NOTE TAKER
You see this creature with her
kerbstone English: the English that will keep her in
the gutter to the end of her days. Well, sir, in three
months I could pass that girl off as a duchess at an
ambassador's garden party. I could even get her a place
as lady's maid or shop assistant, which requires better
English. Thats the sort of thing I do for commercial
millionaires. And on the profits of it I do genuine
scientific work in phonetics, and a little as a poet on
Miltonic lines.
THE GENTLEMAN
I am myself a student of Indian
dialects; and--
THE NOTE TAKER [eagerly] Are you? Do you know Colonel
Pickering, the author of Spoken Sanscrit?
THE GENTLEMAN
I am Colonel Pickering. Who are you?
THE NOTE TAKER
Henry Higgins, author of Higgins's
Universal Alphabet.
PICKERING [with enthusiasm] I came from India to meet
you.
HIGGINS
I was going to India to meet you.
PICKERING
Where do you live?
HIGGINS
27A Wimpole Street. Come and see me tomorrow.
PICKERING
I'm at the Carlton. Come with me now and
lets have a jaw over some supper.
HIGGINS
Right you are.
THE FLOWER GIRL [to Pickering, as he passes her] Buy a
flower, kind gentleman. I'm short for my lodging.
PICKERING
I really havnt any change. I'm sorry [he
goes away].
HIGGINS [shocked at girl's mendacity] Liar. You said
you could change half-a-crown.
THE FLOWER GIRL [rising in desperation] You ought to be
stuffed with nails, you ought. [Flinging the basket at
his feet] Take the whole blooming basket for sixpence.
The church clock strikes the second quarter.
HIGGINS [hearing in it the voice of God, rebuking him
for his Pharisaic want of charity to the poor girl] A
reminder. [He raises his hat solemnly; then throws a
handful of money into the basket and follows
Pickering].
THE FLOWER GIRL [picking up a half-crown] Ah-ow-ooh!
[Picking up a couple of florins] Aaah-ow-ooh! [Picking
up several coins] Aaaaaah-ow-ooh! [Picking up a
half-sovereign] Aaaaaaaaaaaah-ow-ooh!!!
FREDDY [springing out of a taxicab] Got one at last.
Hallo! [To the girl] Where are the two ladies that were
here?
THE FLOWER GIRL
They walked to the bus when the rain
stopped.
FREDDY
And left me with a cab on my hands. Damnation!
THE FLOWER GIRL [with grandeur] Never you mind, young
man. I'm going home in a taxi. [She sails off to the
cab. The driver puts his hand behind him and holds the
door firmly shut against her. Quite understanding his
mistrust, she shews him her handful of money.]
Eightpence aint no object to me, Charlie. [He grins and
opens the door]. Angel Court, Drury Lane, round the
corner of Micklejohn's oil shop. Lets see how fast you
can make her hop it. [She gets in and pulls the door to
with a slam as the taxicab starts].
