CANDIDA. Stop! (He obeys.) Didn't you hear James say he wished you to stay? James is master here. Don't you know that? MARCHBANKS (flushing with a young poet's rage against tyranny). By what right is he master? CANDIDA (quietly). Tell him, James. MORELL (taken aback). My dear: I don't know of any right that makes me master. I assert no such right. CANDIDA (with infinite reproach). You don't know! Oh, James, James! (To Eugene, musingly.) I wonder do you understand, Eugene! No: you're too young. Well, I give you leave to stay--to stay and learn. (She comes away from the hearth and places herself between them.) Now, James: what's the matter? Come: tell me. MARCHBANKS (whispering tremulously across to him). Don't. CANDIDA. Come. Out with it! MORELL (slowly). I meant to prepare your mind carefully, Candida, so as to prevent misunderstanding. CANDIDA. Yes, dear: I am sure you did. But never mind: I shan't misunderstand. MORELL. Well--er--(He hesitates, unable to find the long explanation which he supposed to be available.) CANDIDA. Well? MORELL (baldly). Eugene declares that you are in love with him. MARCHBANKS (frantically). No, no, no, no, never. I did not, Mrs. Morell: it's not true. I said I loved you, and that he didn't. I said that I understood you, and that he couldn't. And it was not after what passed there before the fire that I spoke: it was not, on my word. It was this morning. CANDIDA (enlightened). This morning! MARCHBANKS. Yes. (He looks at her, pleading for credence, and then adds, simply) That was what was the matter with my collar. CANDIDA (after a pause; for she does not take in his meaning at once). His collar! (She turns to Morell, shocked.) Oh, James: did you--(she stops)? MORELL (ashamed). You know, Candida, that I have a temper to struggle with. And he said (shuddering) that you despised me in your heart. CANDIDA (turning quickly on Eugene). Did you say that? MARCHBANKS (terrified). No! CANDIDA (severely). Then James has just told me a falsehood. Is that what you mean? MARCHBANKS. No, no: I--I-- (blurting out the explanation desperately) --it was David's wife. And it wasn't at home: it was when she saw him dancing before all the people. MORELL (taking the cue with a debater's adroitness). Dancing before all the people, Candida; and thinking he was moving their hearts by his mission when they were only suffering from--Prossy's complaint. (She is about to protest: he raises his hand to silence her, exclaiming) Don't try to look indignant, Candida:-- CANDIDA (interjecting). Try! MORELL (continuing). Eugene was right. As you told me a few hours after, he is always right. He said nothing that you did not say far better yourself. He is the poet, who sees everything; and I am the poor parson, who understands nothing. CANDIDA (remorsefully). Do you mind what is said by a foolish boy, because I said something like it again in jest?