Pygmalion

the Tower of London, where your head will be cut off as a warning to other presumptuous flower girls. If you are not found out, you shall have a present of seven-and-sixpence to start life with as a lady in a shop. If you refuse this offer you will be a most ungrateful and wicked girl; and the angels will weep for you. To Pickering. Now are you satisfied, Pickering? To  Mrs. Pearce. Can I put it more plainly and fairly,  Mrs. Pearce?

 Mrs. Pearce
Patiently. I think you’d better let me speak to the girl properly in private. I don’t know that I can take charge of her or consent to the arrangement at all. Of course I know you don’t mean her any harm; but when you get what you call interested in people’s accents, you never think or care what may happen to them or you. Come with me, Eliza.


Higgins
That’s all right. Thank you,  Mrs. Pearce. Bundle her off to the bathroom.


Liza
Rising reluctantly and suspiciously. You’re a great bully, you are. I won’t stay here if I don’t like. I won’t let nobody wallop me. I never asked to go to Bucknam Palace, I didn’t. I was never in trouble with the police, not me. I’m a good girl⁠—


 Mrs. Pearce
Don’t answer back, girl. You don’t understand the gentleman. Come with me. She leads the way to the door, and holds it open for Liza.


Liza
As she goes out. Well, what I say is right. I won’t go near the king, not if I’m going to have my head cut off. If I’d known what I was letting myself in for, I wouldn’t have come here. I always been a good girl; and I never offered to say a word to him; and I don’t owe him nothing; and I don’t care; and I won’t be put upon; and I have my feelings the same as anyone else⁠—



 Mrs. Pearce shuts the door; and Liza’s plaints are no longer audible. Pickering comes from the hearth to the chair and sits astride it with his arms on the back.


Pickering
Excuse the straight question, Higgins. Are you a man of good character where women are concerned?


Higgins
Moodily. Have you ever met a man of good character where women are concerned?


Pickering
Yes: very frequently.


Higgins
Dogmatically, lifting himself on his hands to the level of the piano, and sitting on it with a bounce. Well, I haven’t. I find that the moment I let a woman make friends with me, she becomes jealous, exacting, suspicious, and a damned nuisance. I find that the moment I let myself make friends with a woman, I become selfish and tyrannical. Women upset everything. When you let them into your life, you find that the woman is driving at one thing and you’re driving at another.


Pickering
At what, for example?


Higgins
Coming off the piano restlessly. Oh, Lord knows! I suppose the woman wants to live her own life; and the man wants to live his; and each tries to drag the other on to the wrong track. One wants to go north and the other south; and the result is that both have to go east, though they both hate the east wind. He sits down on the bench at the keyboard. So here I am, a confirmed old bachelor, and likely to remain so.


Pickering
Rising and standing over him gravely. Come, Higgins! You know what I mean. If I’m to be in this business I shall feel responsible for that girl. I hope it’s understood that no advantage is to be taken of her position.


Higgins
What! That thing! Sacred, I assure you. Rising to explain. You see, she’ll be a pupil; and teaching would be impossible unless pupils were sacred. I’ve taught scores of American millionairesses how to speak English: the best looking women in the world. I’m seasoned. They might as well be blocks of wood. I might as well be a block of wood. It’s⁠—



 Mrs. Pearce opens the door. She has Liza’s hat in her hand. Pickering retires to the easy-chair at the hearth and sits down.


Higgins
Eagerly. Well,  Mrs. Pearce: is it all right?


 Mrs. Pearce
At the door. I just wish to trouble you with a word, if I may,  Mr. Higgins.


Higgins
Yes, certainly. Come in. She comes forward. Don’t burn that,  Mrs. Pearce. I’ll keep it as a curiosity. He takes the hat.


 Mrs. Pearce
Handle it carefully, sir, please. I had to promise her not to burn it; but I had better put it in the oven for a while.


Higgins
Putting it down hastily on the piano. Oh! thank you. Well, what have you to say to me?


Pickering
Am I in the way?


 Mrs. Pearce
Not at all, sir.  Mr. Higgins: will you please be very particular what you say before the girl?


Higgins
Sternly. Of course. I’m always particular about what I say. Why do you say this to me?


 Mrs. Pearce
Unmoved. No, sir: you’re not at all particular when you’ve mislaid anything or when you get a little impatient. Now it doesn’t matter before me: I’m used to it. But you really must not swear before the girl.


Higgins
Indignantly. I swear! Most emphatically. I never swear. I detest the habit. What the devil do you mean?


 Mrs. Pearce
Stolidly. That’s what I mean, sir. You swear a great deal too much. I don’t mind your damning and blasting, and what the devil and where the devil and who the devil⁠—


Higgins
Really!  Mrs. Pearce: this language from your lips!


 Mrs. Pearce
Not to be put off.⁠—but there is a certain word I must ask you not to use. The girl has just used it herself because the bath was too hot. It begins with the same letter as bath. She knows no better: she learnt it at her mother’s knee. But she must not hear it from your lips.


Higgins
Loftily. I cannot charge myself with having