Cuts from Pyggie

Your Humble Blogger has received the script with all the cuts in it. Alfred P. Doolittle survives surprisingly well. There is only one cut that disappoints me, and even in that case, I understand the reason and can’t really deny the appropriateness. But I know you are all incredibly interested in the details, yes? So let’s go through every single word that is cut whilst Alfred P. Doolittle is on-stage.

The first cut is when he is asked why he sends the boy to pick up Eliza’s luggage from her landlady, rather than getting it himself. His response is a typical mingling of cheek and obsequiousness:

DOOLITTLE. He told me what was up. And I ask you, what was my feelings and my duty as a father? I says to the boy, "You bring me the luggage," I says—
PICKERING. Why didnt you go for it yourself?
DOOLITTLE. Landlady wouldnt have trusted me with it, Governor. Shes that kind of woman: you know. I had to give the boy a penny afore he trusted me with it, the little swine. I brought it to her just to oblige you like, and make myself agreeable. Thats all.
HIGGINS. How much luggage?
DOOLITTLE. Musical instrument, Governor. A few pictures, a trifle of jewelry, and a bird-cage. She said she didnt want no clothes. What was I to think from that, Governor? I ask you as a parent what was I to think?

I like the joke that’s been removed, but I don’t mind cutting. I like everything in the play, and simultaneously I agree that it has to be cut drastically to get the people home in bed by eleven, so logically, I would cut lots of things I like. In fact, here, I would probably cut far more:

DOOLITTLE. He told me what was up…What was I to think from that, Governor? I ask you as a parent what was I to think?

The second cut is more substantial, and this is the one that I’m cranky about. Prof. Higgins has rung the bell, with another threat to send both Alfred and Eliza Doolittle off immediately.

HIGGINS Youre going to take her away, double quick. He crosses to the hearth and rings the bell.
DOOLITTLE [rising] No, Governor. Dont say that. I’m not the man to stand in my girl’s light. Heres a career opening for her, as you might say; and—
Mrs. Pearce opens the door and awaits orders.
HIGGINS. Mrs. Pearce: this is Eliza’s father. He has come to take her away. Give her to him. He goes back to the piano, with an air of washing his hands of the whole affair.
DOOLITTLE. No. This is a misunderstanding. Listen here—
MRS. PEARCE. He cant take her away, Mr. Higgins: how can he? You told me to burn her clothes.
DOOLITTLE. Thats right. I cant carry the girl through the streets like a blooming monkey, can I? I put it to you.
HIGGINS. You have put it to me that you want your daughter. Take your daughter. If she has no clothes go out and buy her some.
DOOLITTLE [desperate] Wheres the clothes she come in? Did I burn them or did your missus here?
MRS. PEARCE. I am the housekeeper, if you please. I have sent for some clothes for your girl. When they come you can take her away. You can wait in the kitchen. This way, please.
Doolittle, much troubled, accompanies her to the door; then hesitates; finally turns confidentially to Higgins.
DOOLITTLE. Listen here, Governor. You and me is men of the world, aint we?
HIGGINS. Oh! Men of the world, are we? Youd better go, Mrs. Pearce.
MRS. PEARCE. I think so, indeed, sir. She goes, with dignity.
PICKERING. The floor is yours, Mr. Doolittle.

Mrs. Pearce’s entire entrance has been taken out. The scene as it stands runs like this:

DOOLITTLE [rising] No, Governor. Dont say that. I’m not the man to stand in my girl’s light. Heres a career opening for her, as you might say; and—Listen here, Governor. You and me is men of the world, aint we?
PICKERING. The floor is yours, Mr. Doolittle.

Now, it makes perfect sense to cut that. It’s just bringing Mrs. Pearce on and off again, and doesn’t advance anything. The reason I’m disappointed is because the woman playing Mrs. Pearce is a buddy of mine, and I was looking forward to that bit of interaction. It’s pretty much our only time on stage together, too.

The next cut is brief:

DOOLITTLE. Not me, Governor, thank you kindly. Ive heard all the preachers and all the prime ministers—for I’m a thinking man and game for politics or religion or social reform same as all the other amusements—and I tell you it’s a dog’s life anyway you look at it. Undeserving poverty is my line. Taking one station in society with another, it’s—it’s—well, it’s the only one that has any ginger in it, to my taste.

Not too bad. Again, I like the stuff that’s been cut, and I think it’s relevant to G.B. Shaw’s point about class and democracy, but I agree that we need cuts, and he does go on a bit.

The next is a large cut, and it comes near the end of the scene. Eliza has come back from her washing, and her father doesn’t recognize her.

LIZA. I tell you, it’s easy to clean up here. Hot and cold water on tap, just as much as you like, there is. Woolly towels, there is; and a towel horse so hot, it burns your fingers. Soft brushes to scrub yourself, and a wooden bowl of soap smelling like primroses. Now I know why ladies is so clean. Washing’s a treat for them. Wish they saw what it is for the like of me!
HIGGINS. I’m glad the bath-room met with your approval.
LIZA. It didnt: not all of it; and I dont care who hears me say it. Mrs. Pearce knows.
HIGGINS. What was wrong, Mrs. Pearce?
MRS. PEARCE. blandly Oh, nothing, sir. It doesnt matter.
LIZA. I had a good mind to break it. I didnt know which way to look. But I hung a towel over it, I did.
HIGGINS. Over what?
MRS. PEARCE. Over the looking-glass, sir.
HIGGINS. Doolittle: you have brought your daughter up too strictly.
DOOLITTLE. Me! I never brought her up at all, except to give her a lick of a strap now and again. Dont put it on me, Governor. She aint accustomed to it, you see: thats all. But she’ll soon pick up your free-and-easy ways.
LIZA. I’m a good girl, I am; and I wont pick up no free and easy ways.
HIGGINS. Eliza: if you say again that youre a good girl, your father shall take you home.
LIZA. Not him. You dont know my father. All he come here for was to touch you for some money to get drunk on.
DOOLITTLE. Well, what else would I want money for? To put into the plate in church, I suppose. She puts out her tongue at him. He is so incensed by this that Pickering presently finds it necessary to step between them. Dont you give me none of your lip; and dont let me hear you giving this gentleman any of it neither, or youll hear from me about it. See?
HIGGINS. Have you any further advice to give her before you go, Doolittle? Your blessing, for instance.
DOOLITTLE. No, Governor: I aint such a mug as to put up my children to all I know myself. Hard enough to hold them in without that. If you want Eliza’s mind improved, Governor, you do it yourself with a strap. So long, gentlemen. He turns to go. HIGGINS impressively Stop. Youll come regularly to see your daughter. It’s your duty, you know. My brother is a clergyman; and he could help you in your talks with her. DOOLITTLE evasively Certainly. I’ll come, Governor. Not just this week, because I have a job at a distance. But later on you may depend on me. Afternoon, gentlemen. Afternoon, maam. He takes off his hat to Mrs. Pearce, who disdains the salutation and goes out. He winks at Higgins, thinking him probably a fellow-sufferer from Mrs. Pearce’s difficult disposition, and follows her.

LIZA. I tell you, it’s easy to clean up here. Hot and cold water on tap, just as much as you like, there is. Woolly towels, there is; and a towel horse so hot, it burns your fingers. Soft brushes to scrub yourself, and a wooden bowl of soap smelling like primroses. Now I know why ladies is so clean. Washing’s a treat for them.
HIGGINS. I’m glad the bath-room met with your approval. Have you any further advice to give her before you go, Doolittle? Your blessing, for instance.
DOOLITTLE. No, Governor: If you want Eliza’s mind improved, Governor, you do it yourself with a strap. So long, gentlemen. Exit.

Well, you can see it saves a lot of time. And, yes, it wipes out the interaction between me and Mrs. Pearce, dash it all. Mostly, though, it saves me having to stand around during other people’s jokes, which is nice.

That’s it for Poor Alfie. I have, as you will notice, started thinking of the two scenes as Rich Alfie and Poor Alfie; the character is largely the same, but not entirely. There are six months between the two scenes, and three thousand pounds a year. Anyway, there are three more cuts.

DOOLITTLE. Eliza! not she. Not half. Why would she buy me clothes?

This, I think, is Mr. Shaw’s cut. It’s in the version I have (collected plays in seven volumes), but it looks as if it’s not in the version the director came up with, one with the Ball and the training session. Anyway, I won’t miss it.

DOOLITTLE. It aint the lecturing I mind. I’ll lecture them blue in the face, I will, and not turn a hair. It’s making a gentleman of me that I object to. Who asked him to make a gentleman of me? I was happy. I was free. I touched pretty nigh everybody for money when I wanted it, same as I touched you, Henry Higgins. Now I am worrited; tied neck and heels; and everybody touches me for money. It’s a fine thing for you, says my solicitor. Is it? says I. You mean it’s a good thing for you, I says. When I was a poor man and had a solicitor once when they found a pram in the dust cart, he got me off, and got shut of me and got me shut of him as quick as he could. Same with the doctors: used to shove me out of the hospital before I could hardly stand on my legs, and nothing to pay. Now they finds out that I’m not a healthy man and cant live unless they looks after me twice a day. In the house I’m not let do a hand’s turn for myself: somebody else must do it and touch me for it. A year ago I hadnt a relative in the world except two or three that wouldnt speak to me. Now Ive fifty, and not a decent week’s wages among the lot of them. I have to live for others and not for myself: thats middle class morality. You talk of losing Eliza. Dont you be anxious: I bet shes on my doorstep by this: she that could support herself easy by selling flowers if I wasnt respectable. And the next one to touch me will be you, Henry Higgins. I’ll have to learn to speak middle class language from you, instead of speaking proper English. Thats where youll come in; and I daresay thats what you done it for.

I’m just happy they left the last two sentences in. That’s my favorite part, and I think it’s important to keep in mind, as Mr. Shaw does, that this is the business that Henry Higgins is in, and that all the appointments that he talks about Eliza remembering for him are appointments with Alfred Doolittles made good. Well, not garbagemen, but box-wallahs and ironmongers with three factories up north.

Last one:

DOOLITTLE: softening his manner in deference to her sex Thats the tragedy of it, maam. It’s easy to say chuck it; but I havent the nerve. Which of us has? We’re all intimidated. Intimidated, maam: thats what we are. What is there for me if I chuck it but the workhouse in my old age? I have to dye my hair already to keep my job as a dustman. If I was one of the deserving poor, and had put by a bit, I could chuck it; but then why should I, acause the deserving poor might as well be millionaires for all the happiness they ever has. They dont know what happiness is. But I, as one of the undeserving poor, have nothing between me and the pauper’s uniform but this here blasted three thousand a year that shoves me into the middle class. (Excuse the expression, maam: youd use it yourself if you had my provocation). Theyve got you every way you turn: it’s a choice between the Skilly of the workhouse and the Char Bydis of the middle class; and I havnt the nerve for the workhouse. Intimidated: thats what I am. Broke. Bought up. Happier men than me will call for my dust, and touch me for their tip; and I’ll look on helpless, and envy them. And thats what your son has brought me to. [He is overcome by emotion].

Again, I’m glad they kept the line about the hair dye, which is usually out. Shall I dye my hair for the part, with some gruesome blacking? I doubt it. I’ll have to see. Anyway, with the bit that’s cut out here, as with the bit cut out earlier about the prime ministers and preachers, I like that Alfred P. Doolittle is a lower-class man, and an ignorant man for the most part, but is also a thinking man, and is cultured in a way that the audience wouldn’t necessarily expect him to be. But as I started with, you have to cut somewhere, and again, I would probably have started cutting a sentence earlier. The film version, if I remember correctly cuts after intimidated, ma’am, and I am glad we don’t.

Well, that’s a long post. But a little insight into the petty actor’s mind. Yes, we really do look at every single line or bit of business cut. Or at least I do.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.