HIGGINS. Figure it out. A millionaire has about 150 pounds a day. She earns about half-a-crown.
LIZA [haughtily] Who told you I only —
HIGGINS [continuing] She offers me two-fifths of her day's income for a lesson. Two-fifths of a millionaire's income for a day would be somewhere about 60 pounds. It's handsome. By George, it's enormous! it's the biggest offer I ever had.
LIZA [rising, terrified] Sixty pounds! What are you talking about? I never offered you sixty pounds. Where would I get —
HIGGINS. Hold your tongue.
LIZA [weeping] But I ain't got sixty pounds. Oh —
MRS. PEARCE. Don't cry, you silly girl. Sit down. Nobody is going to touch your money.
HIGGINS. Somebody is going to touch you, with a broomstick, if you don't stop snivelling. Sit down.
LIZA [obeying slowly] Ah — ah — ah — ow — oo — o! One would think you was my father.
HIGGINS. If I decide to teach you, I'll be worse than two fathers to you. Here [he offers her his silk handkerchief]!
LIZA. What's this for?
HIGGINS. To wipe your eyes. To wipe any part of your face that feels moist. Remember: that's your handkerchief; and that's your sleeve. Don't mistake the one for the other if you wish to become a lady in a shop.
Liza, utterly bewildered, stares helplessly at him.
MRS. PEARCE. It's no use talking to her like that, Mr. Higgins: she doesn't understand you. Besides, you're quite wrong: she doesn't do it that way at all [she takes the handkerchief].
LIZA [snatching it] Here! You give me that handkerchief. He give it to me, not to you.
PICKERING [laughing] He did. I think it must be regarded as her property, Mrs. Pearce.
MRS. PEARCE [resigning herself] Serve you right, Mr. Higgins.
PICKERING. Higgins: I'm interested. What about the ambassador's garden party? I'll say you're the greatest teacher alive if you make that good. I'll bet you all the expenses of the experiment you can't do it. And I'll pay for the lessons.
LIZA. Oh, you are real good. Thank you, Captain.
HIGGINS [tempted, looking at her] It's almost irresistible. She's so deliciously low — so horribly dirty —
LIZA [protesting extremely] Ah — ah — ah — ah — ow — ow — oooo!!! I ain't dirty: I washed my face and hands afore I come, I did.
PICKERING. You're certainly not going to turn her head with flattery, Higgins.
MRS. PEARCE [uneasy] Oh, don't say that, sir: there's more ways than one of turning a girl's head; and nobody can do it better than Mr. Higgins, though he may not always mean it. I do hope, sir, you won't encourage him to do anything foolish.
HIGGINS [becoming excited as the idea grows on him] What is life but a series of inspired follies? The difficulty is to find them to do. Never lose a chance: it doesn't come every day. I shall make a duchess of this draggletailed guttersnipe.
LIZA [strongly deprecating this view of her] Ah — ah — ah — ow — ow — oo!
HIGGINS [carried away] Yes: in six months — in three if she has a good ear and a quick tongue — I'll take her anywhere and pass her off as anything. We'll start today: now! this moment! Take her away and clean her, Mrs. Pearce. Monkey Brand, if it won't come off any other way. Is there a good fire in the kitchen?
MRS. PEARCE [protesting]. Yes; but —
HIGGINS [storming on] Take all her clothes off and burn them. Ring up Whiteley or somebody for new ones. Wrap her up in brown paper till they come.
LIZA. You're no gentleman, you're not, to talk of such things. I'm a good girl, I am; and I know what the like of you are, I do.
HIGGINS. We want none of your Lisson Grove prudery here, young woman. You've got to learn to behave like a duchess. Take her away, Mrs. Pearce. If she gives you any trouble wallop her.
LIZA [springing up and running between Pickering and Mrs. Pearce for protection] No! I'll call the police, I will.
MRS. PEARCE. But I've no place to put her.
HIGGINS. Put her in the dustbin.
LIZA. Ah — ah — ah — ow — ow — oo!
PICKERING. Oh come, Higgins! be reasonable.
MRS. PEARCE [resolutely] You must be reasonable, Mr. Higgins: really you must. You can't walk over everybody like this.
Higgins, thus scolded, subsides. The hurricane is succeeded by a zephyr of amiable surprise.
HIGGINS [with professional exquisiteness of modulation] I walk over everybody! My dear Mrs. Pearce, my dear Pickering, I never had the slightest intention of walking over anyone. All I propose is that we should be kind to this poor girl. We must help her to prepare and fit herself for her new station in life. If I did not express myself clearly it was because I did not wish to hurt her delicacy, or yours.
Liza, reassured, steals back to her chair.
MRS. PEARCE [to Pickering] Well, did you ever hear anything like that, sir?
PICKERING [laughing heartily] Never, Mrs. Pearce: never.
HIGGINS [patiently] What's the matter?
MRS. PEARCE. Well, the matter is, sir, that you can't take a girl up like that as if you were picking up a pebble on the beach.
HIGGINS. Why not?
MRS. PEARCE. Why not! But you don't know anything about her. What about her parents? She may be married.
HIGGINS. There! As the girl very properly says, Garn! Married indeed! Don't you know that a woman of that class looks a worn out drudge of fifty a year after she's married.
LIZA. Who'd marry me?
HIGGINS [suddenly resorting to the most thrillingly beautiful low tones in his best elocutionary style] By George, Eliza, the streets will be strewn with the bodies of men shooting themselves for your sake before I've done with you.
MRS. PEARCE. Nonsense, sir. You mustn't talk like that to her.
LIZA [rising and squaring herself determinedly] I'm going away. He's off his chump, he is. I don't want no balmies teaching me.
HIGGINS [wounded in his tenderest point by her insensibility to his elocution] Oh, indeed! I'm mad, am I? Very well, Mrs. Pearce: you needn't order the new clothes for her. Throw her out.
LIZA [whimpering] Nah — ow. You got no right to touch me.
MRS. PEARCE. You see now what comes of being saucy. [Indicating the door] This way, please.
LIZA [almost in tears] I didn't want no clothes. I wouldn't have taken them [she throws away the handkerchief]. I can buy my own clothes.
HIGGINS [deftly retrieving the handkerchief and intercepting her on her reluctant way to the door] You're an ungrateful wicked girl. This is my return for offering to take you out of the gutter and dress you beautifully and make a lady of you.
MRS. PEARCE. Stop, Mr. Higgins. I won't allow it. It's you that are wicked. Go home to your parents, girl; and tell them to take better care of you.
LIZA. I ain't got no parents. They told me I was big enough to earn my own living and turned me out.
MRS. PEARCE. Where's your mother?
LIZA. I ain't got no mother. Her that turned me out was my sixth stepmother. But I done without them. And I'm a good girl, I am.
HIGGINS. Very well, then, what on earth is all this fuss about? The girl doesn't belong to anybody — is no use to anybody but me. [He goes to Mrs. Pearce and begins coaxing]. You can adopt her, Mrs. Pearce: I'm sure a daughter would be a great amusement to you. Now don't make any more fuss. Take her downstairs; and —
MRS. PEARCE. But what's to become of her? Is she to be paid anything? Do be sensible, sir.
HIGGINS. Oh, pay her whatever is necessary: put it down in the housekeeping book. [Impatiently] What on earth will she want with money? She'll have her food and her clothes. She'll only drink if you give her money.
LIZA [turning on him] Oh you are a brute. It's a lie: nobody ever saw the sign of liquor on me. [She goes back to her chair and plants herself there defiantly].
PICKERING [in good-humored remonstrance] Does it occur to you, Higgins, that the girl has some feelings?
HIGGINS [looking critically at her] Oh no, I don't think so. Not any feelings that we need bother about. [Cheerily] Have you, Eliza?
LIZA. I got my feelings same as anyone else.