A young shelf stacker from the Perth suburbs is met at the Australia Day fireworks by a university sociology professor who specialises in the phonetics of the English language. The professor teases her about her ambition to be sociably acceptable given her accent and coarse language. He suggests an experiment. Over 9 months she is intensively taught to speak Cultivated Australian English and behave like a socialite. She is exhibited and tested at the Melbourne Cup Lunch at the Royal Perth Yacht Club.
Based on Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw (1913)
Adapted by Tim McGrath (2020)
Cast
Eliza Doolittle (bogan) | : | Helen Peerless
Professor Henry Higgins (sociology professor) | : | Stephen McVey
Doctor Pickering (friend and conscience of Higgins) | : | Peter Hocking
Alfred Doolittle (philosophical father of Eliza) | : | Ron Potiphar
Mrs. Pearce (Henry’s assistant at the university) | : | Isabelle McGrath
Mrs. Higgins (mother of Henry) | : | Fiona McVey
Mrs. Fortescue (snobby mother) | : | Annie Taylor
Clara Fortescue (snooty daughter) | : | Duncan McGrath
Nigel Fortescue (soppy romantic admirer of Eliza) | : | Isabelle McGrath
Bystander | : | Fiona McVey
Sarcastic Bystander | : | Ron Potiphar
A young shelf stacker from the Perth suburbs is met at the Australia Day fireworks by a university sociology professor who specialises in the phonetics of the English language. The professor teases her about her ambition to be sociably acceptable given her accent and coarse language. He suggests an experiment. Over 9 months she is intensively taught to speak Cultivated Australian English and behave like a socialite. She is exhibited and tested at the Melbourne Cup Lunch at the Royal Perth Yacht Club.
Based on Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw (1913)
Adapted by Tim McGrath (2020)
Cast
Eliza Doolittle (bogan) | : | Helen Peerless
Professor Henry Higgins (sociology professor) | : | Stephen McVey
Doctor Pickering (friend and conscience of Higgins) | : | Peter Hocking
Alfred Doolittle (philosophical father of Eliza) | : | Ron Potiphar
Mrs. Pearce (Henry’s assistant at the university) | : | Isabelle McGrath
Mrs. Higgins (mother of Henry) | : | Fiona McVey
Mrs. Fortescue (snobby mother) | : | Annie Taylor
Clara Fortescue (snooty daughter) | : | Duncan McGrath
Nigel Fortescue (soppy romantic admirer of Eliza) | : | Isabelle McGrath
Bystander | : | Fiona McVey
Sarcastic Bystander | : | Ron Potiphar
Act III
Mrs Higgins luxury apartment in Claremont overlooking the river. It is 10:30 in the morning.
[Clock strikes 10:30]
[The door is opened violently and Higgins enters.]
HIGGINS. Hello mother. A glorious winter’s morning isn’t it!
MRS. HIGGINS. [dismayed] Henry! [scolding him] What are you doing here today? You know Wednesdays are my ladies’ coffee mornings. You promised never to come over on Wednesdays.
[Higgins bends to kiss her].
HIGGINS. Oh, bugger that!
MRS. HIGGINS. Please Henry, go home now.
HIGGINS. [kissing her] I know it’s Wednesday, mother. But I’ve come on a mission.
MRS. HIGGINS. You mustn't be here. I'm serious, Henry. You offend all my friends. They stop coming here after they meet you.
HIGGINS. Nonsense! I know I have no small talk. But people don't seem to mind.
[Higgins sits on the settee].
MRS. HIGGINS. Oh! don't they? Small talk indeed! What about your large talk? Really, dear, you can’t stay.
HIGGINS. Oh yes I can. I have a job for you. A phonetic job.
MRS. HIGGINS. I see. Well it’s no use, dear. I'm sorry, but I can't get around your vowel sounds. Even though I like to get those little notes in your patent shorthand, I always have to read the copies in ordinary writing you so thoughtfully send me.
HIGGINS. Well, this isn't a phonetic job.
MRS. HIGGINS. But you said it was?
HIGGINS. Not your part of it. I've picked up a girl.
MRS. HIGGINS. Do you mean that some girl has picked you up?
HIGGINS. Not at all. What? No… I don't mean that type of girl.
MRS. HIGGINS. What a pity!
HIGGINS. Why?
MRS. HIGGINS. Well, you never go out with anyone under forty-five. When will you discover that there are some rather nice-looking young women about?
HIGGINS. Oh, I can't be bothered with young women. My idea of a loveable woman is someone as like you as possible. I shall never get into seriously liking young women. Some habits lie too deep to be changed.
[Higgins rises abruptly and walks about, humming “Why can’t a woman be more like a man?”]
HIGGINS. Besides, they're all airheads.
MRS. HIGGINS. Do you know what you would do if you really loved me, Henry?
HIGGINS. What? Marry, I suppose?
MRS. HIGGINS. No. Stop fidgeting and take your hands out of your pockets.
[Higgins obeys and sits down again].
MRS. HIGGINS. Good boy. Now tell me about this girl.
HIGGINS. She's coming here to see you.
MRS. HIGGINS. I don't remember asking her.
HIGGINS. You didn't. I asked her. If you knew who she was you wouldn't have asked her.
MRS. HIGGINS. Indeed! Why?
HIGGINS. Well, it's like this. She's a bit of a rough diamond. I am teaching her to be more civilized.
MRS. HIGGINS. [panicked] And that’s why you’ve invited her to my Wednesday coffee morning!
HIGGINS. [standing up and coaxing] Oh no, it’s fine. She won’t be staying for long. I've taught her to speak properly and she has strict orders as to her conversation. She's to keep to two subjects, the weather and everybody's health. “Fine day” and “How do you do?”, that sort of thing. She’s not to say anything about other subjects in general. That should be safe enough.
MRS. HIGGINS. [shocked] Safe! To talk about our health! About our insides! Perhaps about our outsides! How could you be so foolish, Henry?
HIGGINS. [impatiently] Well, she has to talk about something.
[Higgins sits down again]
HIGGINS. [calmer] Oh mother, relax. She'll be fine. Don't fuss. Doctor Pickering is helping me with her, and he’ll be here too. I've made a bet that I can pass her off as a socialite at Yacht Club. I started on her some months ago and she's doing very well. She has a quick ear. So I’m pretty confident I can do it. She's been easier to teach than any of my actor students, because she's had to learn a complete new language. Currently she speaks English almost as well as you speak French.
MRS. HIGGINS. That sounds very encouraging.
HIGGINS. Well, it is, and it isn't.
MRS. HIGGINS. What does that mean?
HIGGINS. You see, I've got her pronunciation all right. But you have to consider not only how she pronounces, but what she pronounces. And that's where …
[Doorbell rings.]
MRS. HIGGINS. Ah! That will be Mrs. Fortescue and her daughter.
HIGGINS. Oh. I forgot you’d have visitors!
[Higgins rises and makes for the door. As he opens the door Mrs Fortescue and Clara come in].
MRS. FORTESCUE [to Mrs. Higgins] Caroline, how are you my dear?
[Mrs. Fortescue and Mrs. Higgins shake hands].
MRS. FORTESCUE. And this is my daughter, Clara.
CLARA. How lovely to meet you Mrs Higgins?
[Clara and Mrs. Higgins shake hands].
MRS. HIGGINS. [introducing] And may I introduce my son Henry.
MRS. FORTESCUE. The celebrated son! I am delighted to meet you at last, Professor Higgins.
HIGGINS. [glumly] Delighted.
CLARA. [with confident familiarity] How do you do Professor?
HIGGINS. [considering something] Haven’t I seen you before somewhere. Can’t recall where, but I've definitely heard that voice. [drearily] Anyway it doesn't matter. I supposed you'd both better sit down.
MRS. HIGGINS. I'm sorry to say that my celebrated son has no manners. You mustn't mind him.
CLARA [gaily] Oh, I don't.
[Clara sits].
MRS. FORTESCUE [a little bewildered] Not at all.
[Mrs. Fortescue sits].
HIGGINS. Oh, have I been rude? I didn't mean to be.
[Doorbell rings.]
HIGGINS. Excellent, that’ll be Pickering.
[Door opens].
PICKERING. Good morning Mrs. Higgins?
MRS. HIGGINS. Doctor, I am so glad you've come. I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Fortescue and her daughter Clara.
[Pickering brings his chair a little forward and sits down].
PICKERING. [whispers to Mrs. Higgins] Has Henry told you why we are here?
HIGGINS. [as an aside] Bugger! I got interrupted by these two.
MRS. HIGGINS. Oh Henry, Henry, really!
MRS. FORTESCUE. [unsure] I’m terribly sorry Caroline. How rude of me. Are we in the way?
MRS. HIGGINS. [insistent] Nonsense, no. You couldn't have come at a better time. We’d like you to meet a new friend of ours.
HIGGINS. [realising the opportunity] Yes, of course! Even better with more people. And you two will do I suppose.
[Doorbell rings.]
MRS. FORTESCUE. Oh, that must be Nigel. I asked him to meet us here.
[Higgins opens the door and Nigel comes in].
HIGGINS. [almost audibly] Excellent! another one.
[Nigel shakes hands with Mrs. Higgins]
NIGEL. Good morning Mrs. Higgins.
MRS. HIGGINS. It’s sweet of you to come too Nigel. [introducing] This is Doctor Pickering.
NIGEL [to Pickering] Good morning.
MRS. HIGGINS. And I don't think you know my son, Professor Higgins.
NIGEL [to Higgins] Good morning.
HIGGINS. [with contempt] I've also met you before somewhere. Where was it?
NIGEL. [uncertain] I don't think so.
HIGGINS. [resignedly] Doesn't matter, anyhow. Just sit down. [silent pause] Now, what can we possibly talk about before Eliza comes?
MRS. HIGGINS. Oh Henry. You may be the life and soul of the university club dinners but you can be rather trying on normal domestic occasions.
HIGGINS. Am I? Very sorry. [beaming] I suppose I am, you know. [Uproariously] Ha, ha! Ha!
CLARA. [to Higgins] I can appreciate how you feel Professor. I can’t do small talk either. If only people would be frank and say what they really think!
HIGGINS. [gloomily] Christ no!
MRS. FORTESCUE. But why not?
HIGGINS. What people think they ought to think is bad enough. But saying what they really think would be a nightmare. Do you think it would be acceptable if I were to say what I really think?
CLARA [gaily] Are your thoughts so cynical?
HIGGINS. Cynical! Who said anything about cynical? I mean they wouldn't be decent.
MRS. FORTESCUE [seriously] Oh! I'm sure you don't mean that, Professor.
HIGGINS. I’m afraid I do. You see, we're all savages, more or less. We're supposed to be civilized and cultured‚ to know all about poetry and philosophy and art and science, and so on. But how many of us even know the meanings of these terms? [to Clara] What do you know of poetry? [to Mrs. Fortescue] What do you know of science? What does he know of art or science or anything else? What the hell do you think I know of quantum physics?
MRS. HIGGINS. [warning] Or of manners… Henry?
[Doorbell rings.]
PICKERING. Ah ha. Miss Doolittle has arrived.
[Pickering goes to answer the door]
HIGGINS. [excitedly] Here she is, mother.
[Eliza enters and they all rise.]
ELIZA. [to Mrs. Higgins, speaking with pedantic correctness of pronunciation and great beauty of tone] How do you do, Mrs. Higgins? Professor Higgins told me I might visit with you.
MRS. HIGGINS. [cordially] Quite right. I'm very pleased to see you.
PICKERING. How do you do, Miss Doolittle?
[Eliza shakes Pickering’s hand]
ELIZA. Doctor Pickering, is it not? How wonderful to see you again.
MRS. FORTESCUE. I feel sure we have met before, Miss Doolittle. I remember those eyes.
ELIZA. How do you do?
[Eliza sits down on the settee gracefully].
MRS. FORTESCUE [introducing] My daughter Clara.
ELIZA. How do you do?
CLARA [impulsively] Fine thanks.
MRS. FORTESCUE [introducing] And this is my son, Nigel.
NIGEL [he remembers her and is infatuated] Well, how marvellous to see you again, Miss Doolittle.
ELIZA. How do you do?
HIGGINS. [suddenly] Yes! Of course! It all comes back to me now! The fireworks! Australia Day! [remembering] What a debacle that was!
[Higgins bangs on the coffee table]
MRS. HIGGINS. Henry, please! Don't bang on my coffee table, you'll break something.
HIGGINS. [sulkily] Sorry.
[A long and painful pause ensues.]
MRS. HIGGINS. [conversationally] I wonder if it will rain later?
ELIZA. A large high-pressure system in the Australian Bight is likely to bring hot easterly winds. There are no indications of any significant rain fronts for several days.
NIGEL. [nervously] Ha! ha! Hilarious!
ELIZA. [confused] What is wrong with that? [indignant] I bet I got it right.
NIGEL. [embarrassed] Oh yes! It was perfect!
MRS. FORTESCUE. Well I sincerely hope it doesn't bring on my hay fever. There's so much pollen about. I suffer regularly, every year.
ELIZA. My aunt died of hay fever. [darkly] At least that’s what they said.
MRS. FORTESCUE [clicks her tongue sympathetically] Tut tut
ELIZA. [in a tragic tone] But it's my belief they took her out.
HIGGINS. [pointedly to Eliza] Ahem!
MRS. HIGGINS. [puzzled] Took her? Took her where?
ELIZA. [still with formal pronunciation] Come off it! Where do you think! You tell me, why would a tough old chook like her cark it, just from a bit of pollen? Especially as she had come through pneumonia easy enough the year before. Saw that with my own eyes. Crook as a dog she was. They all thought she was a goner, but my old dad kept pouring rum into her until she came good. Jumped up with such a kickstart that she just about bit the end off the spoon.
MRS. FORTESCUE [startled] Oh my!
ELIZA. [building up the evidence] So I ask you, what on earth would cause the old girl to peg out from a bit of sneezing? And what become of her new TV that by rights should have come to me? Some bugger nicked it, didn’t they. And what I say is, those that nicked it, knocked her off too!
MRS. FORTESCUE. I am a little confused. What does ‘knock her off’ mean?
HIGGINS. [hastily] Oh, that's the new slang. To ‘knock a person off’ means to kill them.
MRS. FORTESCUE [to Eliza, horrified] You surely don't believe that your aunt was murdered?
ELIZA. My oath! Those mongrels she lived with would have killed her for a few durries, let alone a new TV.
MRS. FORTESCUE. But surely it can't have been good for your father to pour spirits down her throat like that. It might have killed her.
ELIZA. Not her. Bundy was like mother’s milk to her. Besides, my dad knows what he’s doing with the grog, he’s poured enough down his own throat.
MRS. FORTESCUE. Do you mean that your father is a drinker?
ELIZA. Too right! On the turps morning, noon and night.
MRS. FORTESCUE. How awful for you and your mother!
ELIZA. Not really. Never did no harm, from what I could see. Problem was he could not keep it up regular. On the burst, as you might say… from time to time. Truth is, he is always more agreeable when he’s rat-arsed. In fact, when he was on the dole, my mother used to give him fifty bucks and tell him to go out and not come back until he'd drunk himself cheerful and loving. There's lots of women have to make their blokes pissed so they are easier to live with. [enjoying the audience and at her ease] I reckon it's like this. If a person has a bit of a conscience, it cuts in whenever they’re sober and makes them low-spirited. A bit of grog takes the edge off and makes them happier.
[Nigel convulses with suppressed laughter]
ELIZA. Oi! Why are you grinning like a shot fox?
NIGEL. This new street slang. You do it so well.
ELIZA. Are you taking the piss? [To Higgins] Professor Higgins, is he having a lend of me? Have I said anything I ought not?
MRS. HIGGINS. [interposing] Not at all, Miss Doolittle.
ELIZA. No worries then. [expansively] What I always say is…
HIGGINS. [interjecting] Ahem! [pause] Ahem!
ELIZA. [taking the hint] Oh. Well, I must go.
[They all rise]
ELIZA. I am so pleased to have met you Mrs. Higgins. Goodbye.
[Eliza shakes hands with Mrs. Higgins].
MRS. HIGGINS. Goodbye Miss Doolittle.
ELIZA. Goodbye, Doctor Pickering.
PICKERING. Goodbye, Miss Doolittle.
[Eliza and Pickering shake hands].
ELIZA. Goodbye, everyone.
[Nigel opens the door for Eliza]
NIGEL Are you by any chance walking across the park, Miss Doolittle? If so‚ …
ELIZA. Walk! Bugger that! I’ve got my own wheels outside.
[Eliza goes out. Everyone gasps]
MRS. FORTESCUE. [in shock] Well, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way young people talk these days.
CLARA [discontentedly]. Yes, isn’t that the truth. That’s because we never go anywhere or see anybody. Mother, you are so old-fashioned.
MRS. FORTESCUE. I daresay I am old-fashioned. But I do hope you won't begin using that sort of language, Clara. I may have become accustomed to hear you talking about men as guys, and calling everything cool and wicked. Though I do think it coarse and vulgar. But that young lady’s gutter slang is altogether too much. Don't you think so, Doctor Pickering?
PICKERING. Oh don't ask me. I've been away in Africa for several years. Manners have changed so much while I was away that I sometimes don't know whether I'm at a respectable dinner-table or in a prison canteen.
CLARA. Come now, surely it's all a matter of custom. There's no right or wrong in it. Nobody means anything by it. And it's so witty, it gives such a humorous emphasis to things that are not in themselves very funny. I find it all delightful, and quite innocent.
MRS. FORTESCUE [rising] Well, be that as it may, I think it must be time for us to go too.
[Pickering and Higgins rise.]
CLARA [rising] Oh yes, we have a few more of Mother’s friends to visit today. Goodbye, Mrs. Higgins. Goodbye, Doctor Pickering, Professor Higgins.
HIGGINS. [wickedly] Goodbye Clara. Be sure to try some of those new phrases at your next destination. Don't be nervous, just throw them in wherever you can.
CLARA [cheerfully] Yes, I will. Goodbye Professor Higgins. Such nonsense, isn’t it, all this social pretence around words?
HIGGINS. [tempting her] Yes. Isn’t it such silly nonsense!
CLARA. You could say ‘it’s a load of crap!’
MRS. FORTESCUE [convulsively] Clara!
CLARA. Ha! ha! [She goes out and is heard walking away in a stream of silvery laughter].
NIGEL. [embarrassed] Well, I’m not sure what to say. [to Mrs. Higgins] Goodbye Mrs. Higgins. I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity to meet Miss Doolittle again.
[Nigel and Mrs. Higgins shake hands]
MRS. HIGGINS. Goodbye Nigel. I take it you would like to meet her again?
NIGEL [eagerly] Yes, I would, very much so.
MRS. HIGGINS. Well, I shall have to invite you both to another of my coffee mornings.
NIGEL. Wonderful. Goodbye… again.
[Nigel goes out].
MRS. FORTESCUE. Goodbye, Professor Higgins.
HIGGINS. [impatiently] Goodbye. Goodbye.
MRS. FORTESCUE. [to Pickering] It's no use Doctor. I don’t care what the Professor says, I shall never be able to bring myself to use words like that.
PICKERING. Don't. It's not compulsory, you know. You can get on quite well without them.
MRS. FORTESCUE. [self-consciously] It’s just that Clara is so ‘dirty on me’ because I am such an ‘old fart’. [embarrassed] You see it doesn’t sound right when I say it! Does it?
PICKERING. I totally understand. Well, goodbye and good luck!
[Mrs. Fortescue and Pickering shake hands].
MRS. FORTESCUE [to Mrs. Higgins] I do apologise Caroline. You mustn't mind Clara. She is going through a rough patch! She gets so few social outings, poor child! She still doesn't quite understand her place in society. [brighter] But Nigel is a sweet boy. Don't you think?
MRS. HIGGINS. Oh yes, a real sweetie. I do hope he will come again.
MRS. FORTESCUE. Thank you, dear. Goodbye.
[Mrs. Fortescue goes out].
HIGGINS. [eagerly] Well? Mother. What did you think? Is Eliza presentable?
MRS. HIGGINS. [patiently] You silly boy, of course she's not presentable. She's may be a triumph of your art, and of her stylist's. But if you suppose for a moment that she doesn't give herself away in every statement she utters, you must be obsessed with her.
PICKERING. But don't you think we can correct all of that? I mean do something to eliminate the more sanguinary elements from her conversation.
MRS. HIGGINS. Possibly, but not as long as she is in Henry's hands.
HIGGINS. [aggrieved] Do you mean to say that my language is improper?
MRS. HIGGINS. No, dear. It would be quite proper‚ say on a building site. But it would not be proper for a lady at the yacht club.
HIGGINS. [deeply injured] Well I must say‚
PICKERING [interrupting him] Come now, Higgins. You must recognise that yourself. I haven't heard language such as yours since I was in medical school.
HIGGINS. [sulkily] Oh, well, if you say so, I suppose I don't always talk like a bishop.
MRS. HIGGINS. [concerned] Doctor Pickering, will you clarify something for me. What is the exact state of affairs at Henry’s office?
PICKERING [cheerfully: as if this completely changed the subject] Well, I have the opportunity of working there most days with Henry. He’s helping me with my Afrikaans dialects and sometimes I help him out with Eliza. The arrangement is proving mutually convenient.
MRS. HIGGINS. Quite so, but that isn’t what I was referring to. Miss Doolittle… [pause] where is she staying?
HIGGINS. With Mrs Pearce. It’s all perfectly respectable.
MRS. HIGGINS. But on what basis? Is she a student or an employee? What are the terms of her engagement?
PICKERING [slowly] Oh! Now I think I know what you mean.
HIGGINS. Well, I’m buggered if I do! [annoyed] Just so you know Mother, I've had to work at that girl every day for months to get her to her present level. Luckily it turns out she's also useful in the office. She knows where my things are and remembers my appointments and so forth.
MRS. HIGGINS. And how does your assistant, Mrs. Pearce, get on with her?
HIGGINS. Oh, I imagine she’s grateful to have things taken off her hands. Before Eliza came, she was always having to find things for me and keep my diary. [realising something] Although I admit she does seem to have a bee in her bonnet when it comes to Eliza. She keeps saying "You are quite sure about this, Professor?". Doesn't she, Pick?
PICKERING. Yes, that's about the size of it. "You are quite sure about this, Professor?". That seems to end every conversation you have with her about Eliza.
HIGGINS. As if I ever stop thinking about the girl, and her confounded vowels and consonants. I'm worn out, thinking about her, and watching her lips and her teeth and her tongue. Not to mention her bizarre behaviour, which is the most entertaining of the lot.
MRS. HIGGINS. You make it sound like a child playing with an animated doll.
HIGGINS. Playing! Mother, this is the hardest professional task I have ever undertaken. Make no mistake about that! I am not sure you can appreciate how challenging it is to take a human being and change her into someone else by means of speech. I am dealing with the barriers that separate class from class, the things that separate civilised culture from brute behaviour.
PICKERING [eagerly] Yes, it's incredibly interesting. Mrs. Higgins, I can assure you that we take Eliza very seriously. Every week‚ every day almost‚ there is some new development. [more excited] We keep records of everything‚ hundreds of recordings and images…
HIGGINS. [excited] I don’t think I would be exaggerating to say she is the most intriguing experiment I have conducted. Eliza certainly takes up our time, doesn't she, Pick?
PICKERING. We're always talking Eliza.
HIGGINS. Teaching Eliza.
PICKERING. Dressing Eliza.
MRS. HIGGINS. [shocked] What!
HIGGINS. [carrying on] Inventing new Elizas.
[Higgins and Pickering, speak over each other]
HIGGINS. You know, she has the most extraordinary quickness of ear, …
PICKERING. I assure you, Mrs. Higgins, that girl…
HIGGINS. … just like a parrot. I've tried her with every…
PICKERING. … is a prodigy. Do you know she can play the piano quite beautifully?
[louder]
HIGGINS. … possible sort of sound that a human being can make‚ …
PICKERING. We have taken her to classical concerts and to night …
HIGGINS. … Australian dialects, Danish vowel sounds, New Zealand…
PICKERING. … clubs; and it's all the same to her. She can play anything she hears…
[louder]
HIGGINS. … brogue! Things it took me years to get my tongue around, and…
PICKERING. … right off when she comes home, whether it's…
HIGGINS. … she picks them up like a shot, right away, as if she had…
PICKERING. Beethoven or Cole Porter. Even though…
[louder]
HIGGINS. … been at it all her life.
PICKERING. … six months ago, she'd never touched a piano.
[they are by this time shouting one another down with an intolerable noise]
MRS. HIGGINS. [loudly] Quiet! Henry! Shush‚ please! [quieter] ah-ah-ah! sh!
[They stop talking].
PICKERING. [apologetically]. Oh dear! I am terribly sorry. I do apologise Mrs. Higgins. I got a bit carried away there.
HIGGINS. I’m sorry mother. I’m afraid when Pickering starts shouting nobody can get a word in edgeways.
MRS. HIGGINS. Oh, do be quiet, Henry. [solemnly] I have something very important to tell you both. [pause] Do you realize that when Eliza walked into your office, something walked in with her?
PICKERING. Yes of course! Her father did. Actually it was a bit later. How did you know that? Anyway, Henry soon got rid of him.
MRS. HIGGINS. It might have been better if her mother had. But as her mother didn't, something else did.
PICKERING. What would that be?
MRS. HIGGINS. A problem.
PICKERING. Yes, of course. The problem of how to pass her off as a cultured person.
HIGGINS. Don’t worry, I'll solve that eventually. I reckon I've half solved it already.
MRS. HIGGINS. No, you two ignorant boys. The problem of what is going to happen to her afterwards.
HIGGINS. I don't see any problem with that. She can go her own way. With all the advantages I have given her.
MRS. HIGGINS. The advantages of that poor woman who was here just now! With manners and habits that disqualify her in any society and without means of earning an income! Is that what you mean?
PICKERING [indulgently] Oh, I am sure that can be sorted out, Mrs. Higgins.
HIGGINS. Yes. We could find her some casual employment.
PICKERING. You don’t need to worry about Eliza. She's happy enough.
HIGGINS. Anyway, there's no point stressing about that now. The thing's done. Goodbye, mother.
[Higgins kisses her].
PICKERING [consolatory] There are bound to be plenty of opportunities for her. We'll do what's right. Goodbye Mrs. Higgins.
HIGGINS. [to Pickering] Pick, I’ve just had a great idea. Let's take Eliza to the ballet tonight.
PICKERING. Oh yes, let's. Her commentary will be delicious.
HIGGINS. And then she can mimic all the people in the audience for us when we get home.
PICKERING. Wonderful.
[Both are heard laughing as they go out].
MRS. HIGGINS. [starts to gather the coffee cups on a tray then drops it heavily on the table] Oh, men! men!! men!!!