human
Do you think, she said,
gpt
I know how great this kingship of mine is, he said haltingly.
human
I know how great it seems. But is it real? It is incredible--dreamlike. Is it real, or is it only a great delusion?
gpt
It is real, she said;
human
After all, like all kingship, my kingship is Belief. It is an illusion in the minds of men.
gpt
If you dare!
human
But--
gpt
Countless men, she said,
human
But I know nothing. That is what I had in mind. I know nothing. And these others--the Councillors, Ostrog. They are wiser, cooler, they know so much, every detail. And, indeed, what are these miseries of which you speak? What am I to know? Do you mean--
gpt
I am still hardly more than a girl, she said.
human
But to me the world seems full of wretchedness. The world has altered since your day, altered very strangely. I have prayed that I might see you and tell you these things. The world has changed. As if a canker had seized it--and robbed life of--everything worth having.
gpt
Your days were the days of freedom. Yes--I have thought. I have been made to think, for my life--has not been happy. Men are no longer free--no greater, no better than the men of your time. That is not all. This city--is a prison. Every city now is a prison. Mammon grips the key in his hand. Myriads, countless myriads, toil from the cradle to the grave. Is that right? Is that to be--for ever? Yes, far worse than in your time. All about us, beneath us, sorrow and pain. All the shallow delight of such life as you find about you, is separated by just a little from a life of wretchedness beyond any telling. Yes, the poor know it--they know they suffer. These countless multitudes who faced death for you two nights since--! You owe your life to them.
human
Yes, said Graham, slowly.
gpt
Yes. I owe my life to them.
human
You come, she said,
gpt
It was not--. But never mind. How is it now--?
human
Gain and the Pleasure Cities! Or slavery--unthanked, unhonoured, slavery.
gpt
Slavery!
human
Slavery.
gpt
You don't mean to say that human beings are chattels.
human
Worse. That is what I want you to know, what I want you to see. I know you do not know. They will keep things from you, they will take you presently to a Pleasure City. But you have noticed men and women and children in pale blue canvas, with thin yellow faces and dull eyes?
gpt
Everywhere.
human
Speaking a horrible dialect, coarse and weak.
gpt
I have heard it.
human
They are the slaves--your slaves. They are the slaves of the Labour Department you own.
gpt
The Labour Department! In some way--that is familiar. Ah! now I remember. I saw it when I was wandering about the city, after the lights returned, great fronts of buildings coloured pale blue. Do you really mean--?
human
Yes. How can I explain it to you? Of course the blue uniform struck you. Nearly a third of our people wear it--more assume it now every day. This Labour Department has grown imperceptibly.
gpt
What _is_ this Labour Department?
human
In the old times, how did you manage with starving people?
gpt
There was the workhouse--which the parishes maintained.
human
Workhouse! Yes--there was something. In our history lessons. I remember now. The Labour Department ousted the workhouse. It grew--partly--out of something--you, perhaps, may remember it--an emotional religious organisation called the Salvation Army--that became a business company. In the first place it was almost a charity. To save people from workhouse rigours. There had been a great agitation against the workhouse. Now I come to think of it, it was one of the earliest properties your Trustees acquired. They bought the Salvation Army and reconstructed it as this. The idea in the first place was to organise the labour of starving homeless people.
gpt
Yes.
human
Nowadays there are no workhouses, no refuges and charities, nothing but that Department. Its offices are everywhere. That blue is its colour. And any man, woman or child who comes to be hungry and weary and with neither home nor friend nor resort, must go to the Department in the end--or seek some way of death. The Euthanasy is beyond their means--for the poor there is no easy death. And at any hour in the day or night there is food, shelter and a blue uniform for all comers--that is the first condition of the Department's incorporation--and in return for a day's shelter the Department extracts a day's work, and then returns the visitor's proper clothing and sends him or her out again.
gpt
Yes?
human
Perhaps that does not seem so terrible to you. In your time men starved in your streets. That was bad. But they died--_men_. These people in blue--. The proverb runs: 'Blue canvas once and ever.' The Department trades in their labour, and it has taken care to assure itself of the supply. People come to it starving and helpless--they eat and sleep for a night and day, they work for a day, and at the end of the day they go out again. If they have worked well they have a penny or so--enough for a theatre or a cheap dancing place, or a kinematograph story, or a dinner or a bet. They wander about after that is spent. Begging is prevented by the police of the ways. Besides, no one gives. They come back again the next day or the day after--brought back by the same incapacity that brought them first. At last their proper clothing wears out, or their rags get so shabby that they are ashamed. Then they must work for months to get fresh. If they want fresh. A great number of children are born under the Department's care. The mother owes them a month thereafter--the children they cherish and educate until they are fourteen, and they pay two years' service. You may be sure these children are educated for the blue canvas. And so it is the Department works.
gpt
And none are destitute in the city?
human
None. They are either in blue canvas or in prison. We have abolished destitution. It is engraved upon the Department's checks.
gpt
If they will not work?
human
Most people will work at that pitch, and the Department has powers. There are stages of unpleasantness in the work--stoppage of food--and a man or woman who has refused to work once is known by a thumb-marking system in the Department's offices all over the world. Besides, who can leave the city poor? To go to Paris costs two Lions. And for insubordination there are the prisons--dark and miserable--out of sight below. There are prisons now for many things.
gpt
And a third of the people wear this blue canvas?
human
More than a third. Toilers, living without pride or delight or hope, with the stories of Pleasure Cities ringing in their ears, mocking their shameful lives, their privations and hardships. Too poor even for the Euthanasy, the rich man's refuge from life. Dumb, crippled millions, countless millions, all the world about, ignorant of anything but limitations and unsatisfied desires. They are born, they are thwarted and they die. That is the state to which we have come.
gpt
But there has been a revolution, he said.
human
All these things will be changed. Ostrog--
gpt
That is our hope. That is the hope of the world. But Ostrog will not do it. He is a politician. To him it seems things must be like this. He does not mind. He takes it for granted. All the rich, all the influential, all who are happy, come at last to take these miseries for granted. They use the people in their politics, they live in ease by their degradation. But you--you who come from a happier age--it is to you the people look. To you.