Pygmalion and Galatea by Josephine Preston Peabody Now there once lived in Cyprus a young sculptor, Pygmalion by name, who thought nothing on earth so beautiful as the white marble statues that live without faults and never grow old. Indeed, he said that he would never marry a mortal woman, and people began to think that his daily life among marble creatures was hardening his heart altogether. But it chanced that Pygmalion fell to work upon an ivory statue of a maiden, so lovely that it must have moved to envy every breathing creature that came to look upon it. With a happy heart the sculptor wrought day by day, giving it all the beauty of his dreams, until, when the work was completed, he felt powerless to leave it. He was bound to it by the tie of his highest aspiration, his most perfect ideal, his most patient work. Day after day the ivory maiden looked down at him silently, and he looked back at her until he felt that he loved her more than anything else in the world. He thought of her no longer as a statue, but as the dear companion of his life; and the whim grew upon him like an enchantment. He named her Galatea, and arrayed her like a princess; he hung jewels about her neck, and made all his home beautiful and fit for such a presence. Now the festival of Venus was at hand, and Pygmalion, like all who loved Beauty, joined the worshippers. In the temple solemn rites were held and votaries from many lands came to pray the favor of the goddess. At length Pygmalion himself approached the altar and made his prayer. "Goddess," he said, "who hast vouchsafed to me this gift of beauty, give me a perfect love, likewise, and let me have for bride, one like my ivory maiden." And Venus heard. Home to his house of dreams went the sculptor, loath to be parted for a day from his statue, Galatea. There she stood, looking down upon him silently, and he looked back at her. Surely the sunset had shed a flush of life upon her whiteness. He drew near in wonder and delight, and felt, instead of the chill air that was wont to wake him out of his spell, a gentle warmth around her, like the breath of a plant. He touched her hand, and it yielded like the hand of one living! Doubting his senses, yet fearing to reassure himself, Pygmalion kissed the statue. In an instant the maiden's face bloomed like a waking rose, her hair shone golden as returning sunlight; she lifted her ivory eyelids and smiled at him. The statue herself had awakened, and she stepped down from the pedestal, into the arms of her creator, alive! There was a dream that came true. from Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw Professor Henry Higgins has made a bet with his friend Colonel Pickering that he can transform a poor flower seller from London, Eliza Doolittle, and pass her off as nobility. After many months, the lessons have been a success, as seen in the final test at the opera. Act IV The Wimpole Street home and laboratory. Midnight. Eliza opens the door and is seen on the lighted landing in opera cloak, brilliant evening dress, and diamonds, with fan, flowers, and all accessories; She takes off her cloak, sits down on the bench, brooding and silent. Higgins, in evening dress, removing his overcoat and hat, comes in and throws himself wearily into the easy chair at the hearth. Pickering, similarly attired, comes in. He also takes off his hat and overcoat. Higgins: [Higgins begins half singing half yawning. Suddenly he stops and exclaims] I wonder where the devil my slippers are! Eliza looks at him darkly; then leaves the room. Higgins yawns again and resumes his song. Eliza returns with a pair of large down-at-heel slippers. She places them on the carpet before Higgins and sits as before without a word. Higgins [yawning again] Oh Lord! What an evening! What a crew! What a silly tomfoollery! [He raises his shoe to unlace it and catches sight of the slippers. He stops unlacing and looks at them as if they had appeared there of their own accord]. Oh! they’re there, are they? Pickering [stretching himself] Well, I feel a bit tired. It’s been a long day. The garden party, a dinner party, and the opera! But you’ve won your bet, Higgins. Eliza did the trick, and something to spare, eh? Higgins. [fervently] Thank God it’s over! Eliza flinches violently; but they take no notice of her; and she recovers herself and sits stonily as before. Pickering. Were you nervous at the garden party? I was. Eliza didn’t seem a bit nervous. Higgins. Oh, she wasn’t nervous. I knew she’d be all right. No, it’s the strain of putting the job through all these months that has told on me. It was interesting enough at first, …but I got deadly sick of it. If I hadn’t backed myself to do it I should have chucked the whole thing up two months ago. It was a silly notion: the whole thing has been a bore. Pickering. Oh come! The garden party was frightfully exciting. My heart began beating like anything. Higgins. Yes, for the first three minutes. But when I saw we were going to win hands down, I felt like a bear in a cage, hanging about doing nothing. …I tell you, Pickering, never again for me. No more artificial duchesses. Pickering. Anyhow, it was a great success: an immense success. I was quite frightened once or twice because Eliza was doing it so well. You see, lots of the real people can’t do it at all... Higgins. Yes: that’s what drives me mad… [Rising] However, it’s over and done with; and now I can go to bed at last without dreading tomorrow. Eliza’s beauty becomes murderous. Pickering. I think I shall turn in too. Still, it’s been a great occasion: a triumph for you. Good-night. [He goes]. Higgins [following him] Good-night. [Over his shoulder, at the door] Put out the lights, Eliza; and tell Mrs. Pearce not to make coffee for me in the morning: I’ll take tea. [He goes out]. Eliza tries to control herself. Finally she gives way and flings herself furiously on the floor raging. Higgins [in despairing wrath outside] What the devil have I done with my slippers? [He appears at the door]. Eliza [snatching up the slippers and hurling them at him one after the other with all her force] There are your slippers. And there. Take your slippers; and may you never have a day’s luck with them! Higgins [astounded] What on earth—! [He comes to her] .What’s the matter? Get up. [He pulls her up] .Anything wrong? Eliza [breathless] Nothing wrong—with YOU. I’ve won your bet for you, haven’t I? That’s enough for you. I don’t matter, I suppose. Higgins. YOU won my bet! You! Presumptuous insect! I won it. What did you throw those slippers at me for? Eliza. Because I wanted to smash your face. I’d like to kill you, you selfish brute. Why didn’t you leave me where you picked me out of—in the gutter? You thank God it’s all over, and that now you can throw me back again there, do you? Part A

Question

Pygmalion and Galatea by Josephine Preston Peabody Now there once lived in Cyprus a young sculptor, Pygmalion by name, who thought nothing on earth so beautiful as the white marble statues that live without faults and never grow old. Indeed, he said that he would never marry a mortal woman, and people began to think that his daily life among marble creatures was hardening his heart altogether. But it chanced that Pygmalion fell to work upon an ivory statue of a maiden, so lovely that it must have moved to envy every breathing creature that came to look upon it. With a happy heart the sculptor wrought day by day, giving it all the beauty of his dreams, until, when the work was completed, he felt powerless to leave it. He was bound to it by the tie of his highest aspiration, his most perfect ideal, his most patient work. Day after day the ivory maiden looked down at him silently, and he looked back at her until he felt that he loved her more than anything else in the world. He thought of her no longer as a statue, but as the dear companion of his life; and the whim grew upon him like an enchantment. He named her Galatea, and arrayed her like a princess; he hung jewels about her neck, and made all his home beautiful and fit for such a presence. Now the festival of Venus was at hand, and Pygmalion, like all who loved Beauty, joined the worshippers. In the temple solemn rites were held and votaries from many lands came to pray the favor of the goddess. At length Pygmalion himself approached the altar and made his prayer. "Goddess," he said, "who hast vouchsafed to me this gift of beauty, give me a perfect love, likewise, and let me have for bride, one like my ivory maiden." And Venus heard. Home to his house of dreams went the sculptor, loath to be parted for a day from his statue, Galatea. There she stood, looking down upon him silently, and he looked back at her. Surely the sunset had shed a flush of life upon her whiteness. He drew near in wonder and delight, and felt, instead of the chill air that was wont to wake him out of his spell, a gentle warmth around her, like the breath of a plant. He touched her hand, and it yielded like the hand of one living! Doubting his senses, yet fearing to reassure himself, Pygmalion kissed the statue. In an instant the maiden's face bloomed like a waking rose, her hair shone golden as returning sunlight; she lifted her ivory eyelids and smiled at him. The statue herself had awakened, and she stepped down from the pedestal, into the arms of her creator, alive! There was a dream that came true. from Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw Professor Henry Higgins has made a bet with his friend Colonel Pickering that he can transform a poor flower seller from London, Eliza Doolittle, and pass her off as nobility. After many months, the lessons have been a success, as seen in the final test at the opera. Act IV The Wimpole Street home and laboratory. Midnight. Eliza opens the door and is seen on the lighted landing in opera cloak, brilliant evening dress, and diamonds, with fan, flowers, and all accessories; She takes off her cloak, sits down on the bench, brooding and silent. Higgins, in evening dress, removing his overcoat and hat, comes in and throws himself wearily into the easy chair at the hearth. Pickering, similarly attired, comes in. He also takes off his hat and overcoat. Higgins: [Higgins begins half singing half yawning. Suddenly he stops and exclaims] I wonder where the devil my slippers are! Eliza looks at him darkly; then leaves the room. Higgins yawns again and resumes his song. Eliza returns with a pair of large down-at-heel slippers. She places them on the carpet before Higgins and sits as before without a word. Higgins [yawning again] Oh Lord! What an evening! What a crew! What a silly tomfoollery! [He raises his shoe to unlace it and catches sight of the slippers. He stops unlacing and looks at them as if they had appeared there of their own accord]. Oh! they’re there, are they? Pickering [stretching himself] Well, I feel a bit tired. It’s been a long day. The garden party, a dinner party, and the opera! But you’ve won your bet, Higgins. Eliza did the trick, and something to spare, eh? Higgins. [fervently] Thank God it’s over! Eliza flinches violently; but they take no notice of her; and she recovers herself and sits stonily as before. Pickering. Were you nervous at the garden party? I was. Eliza didn’t seem a bit nervous. Higgins. Oh, she wasn’t nervous. I knew she’d be all right. No, it’s the strain of putting the job through all these months that has told on me. It was interesting enough at first, …but I got deadly sick of it. If I hadn’t backed myself to do it I should have chucked the whole thing up two months ago. It was a silly notion: the whole thing has been a bore. Pickering. Oh come! The garden party was frightfully exciting. My heart began beating like anything. Higgins. Yes, for the first three minutes. But when I saw we were going to win hands down, I felt like a bear in a cage, hanging about doing nothing. …I tell you, Pickering, never again for me. No more artificial duchesses. Pickering. Anyhow, it was a great success: an immense success. I was quite frightened once or twice because Eliza was doing it so well. You see, lots of the real people can’t do it at all... Higgins. Yes: that’s what drives me mad… [Rising] However, it’s over and done with; and now I can go to bed at last without dreading tomorrow. Eliza’s beauty becomes murderous. Pickering. I think I shall turn in too. Still, it’s been a great occasion: a triumph for you. Good-night. [He goes]. Higgins [following him] Good-night. [Over his shoulder, at the door] Put out the lights, Eliza; and tell Mrs. Pearce not to make coffee for me in the morning: I’ll take tea. [He goes out]. Eliza tries to control herself. Finally she gives way and flings herself furiously on the floor raging. Higgins [in despairing wrath outside] What the devil have I done with my slippers? [He appears at the door]. Eliza [snatching up the slippers and hurling them at him one after the other with all her force] There are your slippers. And there. Take your slippers; and may you never have a day’s luck with them! Higgins [astounded] What on earth—! [He comes to her] .What’s the matter? Get up. [He pulls her up] .Anything wrong? Eliza [breathless] Nothing wrong—with YOU. I’ve won your bet for you, haven’t I? That’s enough for you. I don’t matter, I suppose. Higgins. YOU won my bet! You! Presumptuous insect! I won it. What did you throw those slippers at me for? Eliza. Because I wanted to smash your face. I’d like to kill you, you selfish brute. Why didn’t you leave me where you picked me out of—in the gutter? You thank God it’s all over, and that now you can throw me back again there, do you? Part A

How was the theme changed for the adaptation?

Answer choices for the above question

A. The theme of the adaptation is that there is no such thing as a perfect woman.

B. The theme of the adaptation is that a creator has a responsibility for what they create.

C. The theme of the adaptation is men and women have different ways of communicating.

D. The theme of the adaptation is that true love is magical and can be experienced by everyone.
Part B
Select the quotation that supports the answer in Part A.

Answer choices for the above question

A. “Oh, she wasn’t nervous. I knew she’d be all right.” (line 11)

B. “But when I saw we were going to win hands down, I felt like a bear in a cage, hanging about doing nothing. … I tell you, Pickering, never again for me. No more artificial duchesses.” (line 13)

C. “There are your slippers. And there. Take your slippers; and may you never have a day’s luck with them!” (line 21)

D. “Nothing wrong—with YOU. I’ve won your bet for you, haven’t I? That’s enough for you. I don’t matter, I suppose.” (line 23)

Answer 1

Part A

B. The theme of the adaptation is that a creator has a responsibility for what they create.

Part B

D. “Nothing wrong—with YOU. I’ve won your bet for you, haven’t I? That’s enough for you. I don’t matter, I suppose.” (line 23)