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to treat you as an acquaintance； I suppose； because you have
waited on them at table。
MENDOZA。 Pardon me： it was you who claimed my acquaintance。 The
ladies followed your example。 However； this display of the
unfortunate manners of your class closes the incident。 For the
future； you will please address me with the respect due to a
stranger and fellow traveller。 ＇He turns haughtily away and
resumes his presidential seat＇。
TANNER。 There！ I have found one man on my journey capable of
reasonable conversation； and you all instinctively insult him。
Even the New Man is as bad as any of you。 Enry： you have behaved
just like a miserable gentleman。
STRAKER。 Gentleman！ Not me。
RAMSDEN。 Really； Tanner； this tone
ANN。 Don't mind him； Granny： you ought to know him by this time
＇she takes his arm and coaxes him away to the hill to join Violet
and Hector。 Octavius follows her； doglike＇。
VIOLET。 ＇calling from the hill＇ Here are the soldiers。 They are
getting out of their motors。
DUVAL。 ＇panicstricken＇ Oh； nom de Dieu！
THE ANARCHIST。 Fools： the State is about to crush you because you
spared it at the prompting of the political hangers…on of the
bourgeoisie。
THE SULKY SOCIAL…DEMOCRAT。 ＇argumentative to the last＇ On the
contrary； only by capturing the State machine
THE ANARCHIST。 It is going to capture you。
THE ROWDY SOCIAL…DEMOCRAT。 ＇his anguish culminating＇ Ow； chock
it。 Wot are we ere for？ WOT are we wytin for？
MENDOZA。 ＇between his teeth＇ Goon。 Talk politics； you idiots：
nothing sounds more respectable。 Keep it up； I tell you。
The soldiers line the road； commanding the amphitheatre with
their rifles。 The brigands； struggling with an over…whelming
impulse to hide behind one another； look as unconcerned as they
can。 Mendoza rises superbly； with undaunted front。 The officer
in command steps down from the road in to the amphitheatre；
looks hard at the brigands； and then inquiringly at Tanner。
THE OFFICER。 Who are these men； Senor Ingles？
TANNER。 My escort。
Mendoza； with a Mephistophelean smile； bows profoundly。 An
irrepressible grin runs from face to face among the brigands。 They
touch their hats； except the Anarchist； who defies the State with
folded arms。
ACT IV
The garden of a villa in Granada。 Whoever wishes to know what it
is like must go to Granada and see。 One may prosaically specify a
group of hills dotted with villas； the Alhambra on the top of one
of the hills； and a considerable town in the valley； approached
by dusty white roads in which the children； no matter what they
are doing or thinking about； automatically whine for halfpence
and reach out little clutching brown palms for them； but there is
nothing in this description except the A1hambra； the begging； and
the color of the roads； that does not fit Surrey as well as
Spain。 The difference is that the Surrey hills are comparatively
small and ugly； and should properly be called the Surrey
Protuberances； but these Spanish hills are of mountain stock： the
amenity which conceals their size does not compromise their
dignity。
This particular garden is on a hill opposite the Alhambra； and
the villa is as expensive and pretentious as a villa must be if
it is to be let furnished by the week to opulent American and
English visitors。 If we stand on the lawn at the foot of the
garden and look uphill； our horizon is the stone balustrade of a
flagged platform on the edge of infinite space at the top of the
hill。 Between us and this platform is a flower garden with a
circular basin and fountain in the centre； surrounded by
geometrical flower beds； gravel paths； and clipped yew trees in
the genteelest order。 The garden is higher than our lawn； so we
reach it by a few steps in the middle of its embankment。 The
platform is higher again than the garden； from which we mount a
couple more steps to look over the balustrade at a fine view of
the town up the valley and of the hills that stretch away beyond
it to where； in the remotest distance； they become mountains。 On
our left is the villa； accessible by steps from the left hand
corner of the garden。 Returning from the platform through the
garden and down again to the lawn （a movement which leaves the
villa behind us on our right） we find evidence of literary
interests on the part of the tenants in the fact that there is no
tennis net nor set of croquet hoops； but； on our left； a little
iron garden table with books on it； mostly yellow…backed； and a
chair beside it。 A chair on the right has also a couple of open
books upon it。 There are no newspapers； a circumstance which；
with the absence of games； might lead an intelligent spectator to
the most far reaching conclusions as to the sort of people who
live in the villa。 Such speculations are checked； however； on
this delightfully fine afternoon； by the appearance at a little
gate in a paling an our left； of Henry Straker in his
professional costume。 He opens the gate for an elderly gentleman；
and follows him on to the lawn。
This elderly gentleman defies the Spanish sun in a black frock
coat； tall silk bat； trousers in which narrow stripes of dark
grey and lilac blend into a highly respectable color； and a black
necktie tied into a bow over spotless linen。 Probably therefore a
man whose social position needs constant and scrupulous
affirmation without regard to climate： one who would dress thus
for the middle of the Sahara or the top of Mont Blanc。 And since
he has not the stamp of the class which accepts as its
life…mission the advertizing and maintenance of first rate
tailoring and millinery； he looks vulgar in his finery； though in
a working dress of any kind he would look dignified enough。 He is
a bullet cheeked man with a red complexion； stubbly hair；
smallish eyes； a hard mouth that folds down at the corners； and a
dogged chin。 The looseness of skin that comes with age has
attacked his throat and the laps of his cheeks； but he is still
hard as an apple above the mouth； so that the upper half of his
face looks younger than the lower。 He has the self…confidence of
one who has made money； and something of the truculence of one
who has made it in a brutalizing struggle； his civility having
under it a perceptible menace that he has other methods in
reserve if necessary。 Withal； a man to be rather pitied when he
is not to be feared； for there is something pathetic about him at
times； as if the huge commercial machine which has worked him
into his frock coat had allowed him very little of his own way
and left his affections hungry and baffled。 At the first word
that falls from him it is clear that he is an Irishman whose
native intonation has clung to him through many changes of place
and rank。 One can only guess that the original material of his
speech was perhaps the surly Kerry brogue； but the degradation of
speech that occurs in London； Glasgow； Dublin and big cities
generally has been at work on it so long that nobody but an
arrant cockney would dream of calling it a brogue now； for its
music is almost gone； though its surliness is still perceptible。
Straker； as a very obvious cockney； inspires him with implacable
contempt； as a stupid English