The Complete Dramatic Works (41 page)

A:
Sounds like it. [
Long pause.
]
So, agreed? Black future, unpardonable–

B:
As you wish. [
He
starts
to
tidy
back
the
papers
in
the 
brief
case
.
Wearily.
] Let him jump.

A:
No further exhibit?

B:
Let him jump, let him jump. [
He
finishes
tidying,
gets
up
with
the
briefcase
in
his
hand.
] Let’s go.

[
A
consults
his
watch.
]

A:
It is now… ten… twenty-five. We have no train before eleven twenty. Let us kill the
time here, talking of this and that.

B:
What do you mean, eleven twenty? Ten fifty.

[
A
takes
a
time-table
from
his
pocket,
opens
it
at
relevant
page
and
hands
it
to
 
B
.]

A:
Where it’s marked with a cross, [
B
consults
the
time-table,
hands
it
back
to
A
and
sits
down
again.
Long
pause,
 
A
clears
his
throat.
Pause.
Impassionately.
]
How many unfortunates would be so still today if they had known in time to what extent
they were so? [
Pause.
]
Remember Smith?

B:
Smith? [
Pause.
]
Never knew anyone of that name.

A:
Yes you did! A big fat redhair. Always to be seen hanging round World’s End. Hadn’t
done a hand’s turn for years. Reputed to have lost his genitals in a shooting accident.
His own double-barrel that went off between his legs in a moment of abstraction, just
as he was getting set to let fly at a quail.

B:
Stranger to me.

A:
Well to make a long story short he had his head in the oven when they came to tell
him his wife had gone under an ambulance. Hell, says he, I can’t miss that, and now
he has a steady job in Marks and Spencer’s. [
Pause.
]
How is Mildred?

B:
[
Disgustedly.
] Oh you know– [
Brief
burst
of
birdsong.
Pause.
]
Good God!

A:
Philomel!

B:
Oh that put the heart across me!

A:
Hsst! [
Low.
] Hark hark! [
Pause.
Second
brief
burst,
louder.
Pause.
]
It’s in the room! [
He
gets
up,
moves
away
on
tip
toe.
]
Come on, let’s have a look.

B:
I’m scared!

[
He
gets
up
none
the
less
and
follows
cautiously
in
the
wake
of
 
A. A
advances
on
tiptoe
upstage
right,
 
B
tiptoes
after.
]

A:
[
Turning.
] Hsst! [
They
advance,
halt
in
the
corner,
A
strikes
a
match,
holds
it
above
his
head.
Pause.
Low.
] She’s not here. [
He
drops
the
match
and
crosses
the
stage
on
tiptoe
followed
on
tiptoe
by
 
B
.
They
pass
before
the
window,
halt
in
the
corner
upstage
left.
Match
as
before.
Pause.
] Here she is!

B:
[
Recoiling.
] Where?

[
A
squats.
Pause.
]

B:
Lend me a hand.

B:
Let her be! [
A
straightens
up
painfully,
clutching
to
his
belly
a
large
birdcage
covered
with
a
green
silk
cloth
fringed
with
beads.
He
starts
to
stagger
with
it
towards
the
table.
] Give it here.

[
B
helps
to
carry
the
cage.
Holding
it
between
them
they
advance
warily
towards
 
A
’
s
table.
]

A:
[
Breathing hard.
] Hold on a second. [
They
halt.
Pause.
] Let’s go. [
They
move
on,
set
down
cage
gently
on
the
table.
A
lifts
cautiously
the
cloth
on
the
side
away
from
the
audience,
peers.
Pause.
] Show a light.

[
B
takes
up
the
lamp
and
shines
it
inside
the
cage.
They
peer,
stooped.
Long
pause.
]

B:
There’s one dead.

[
They
peer.
]

A:
Have you a pencil? [
B
hands
him
a
long
pencil.
A
pokes
it
between
the
bars
of
the
cage.
Pause.
]
Yes. [
He
withdraws
the
pencil,
puts
it
in
his
pocket.
]

B:
Hi!

[
A
gives
him
back
his
pencil.
They
peer.
 
A
takes
 
B
’
s
hand
and
changes
its
position.
]

A:
There.

[
They
peer.
]

B:
Is it the cock or the hen?

B:
The hen. See how drab she is.

B:
[
Revolted.
]
And he goes on singing! [
Pause.
]
There’s
lovebirds
for you!

A:
Lovebirds! [
Guffaw.
]
Ah Morvan, you’d be the death of me if I were sufficiently alive! Lovebirds! [
Guffaw.
]
Finches, pinhead! Look at that lovely little green rump! And the blue cap! And the
white bars! And the gold breast! [
Didactic.
]
Note moreover the characteristic warble, there can be no mistaking it. [
Pause.
]
Oh you pretty little pet, oh you bonny wee birdie! [
Pause.
Glum.
]
And to think all that is organic waste! All that splendour!

[
They
peer.
]

B:
They have no seed. [
Pause.
]
No water. [
Pointing
]
What’s that there?

A:
That? [
Pause.
Slow,
toneless.
]
An old cuttle-bone.

B:
Cuttle-bone?

A:
Cuttle-bone.

[
He
lets
the
cloth
fall
back.
Pause.
]

B:
Come, Bertrand, don’t, there is nothing we can do. [
A
takes
up
the
cage
and
goes
with
it
upstage
left,
B
puts
down
the
lamp
and
hastens
after
him.
]
Give it here.

A:
Leave it, leave it! [
He
advances
to
the
corner,
followed
by
B
,
and
puts
down
the
cage
where
he
found
it.
He
straightens
up
and
moves
back
towards
his
table,
still
followed
by
 
B
.
A
stops
short.
] Will you have done dogging me! Do you want me to jump too? [
Pause,
 
B
goes
to
A
’s
table,
takes
up
briefcase
and
chair,
goes
to
his
table
and
sits
with
back
to
window.
He
switches
on
his
lamp,
switches
it
off
again
immediately.
]
How end? [
Long
pause,
A
goes
to
window
;
strikes
a
match,
holds
it
high
and
inspects
 
C
’
s
face.
The
match
burns
out,
he
throws
it
out
of
window.
]
Hi! Take a look at this! [
B
does
not
move,
 
A
strikes
another
match,
holds
it
high
and
inspects 
C
’
s
face.
]
Come on! Quick! [
B
 
does
not
move.
The
match
burns
out
, 
A
lets
it
fall.
]
Well I’ll be…!

[
A
takes
out
his
handkerchief
and
raises
it
timidly
towards
C
’
s
face.
]

CURTAIN

Written in English and completed at the beginning of 1959. First published in
Evergreen
Review
(Nov./Dec. 1959). First broadcast on the BBC Third Programme on 24 June 1959.

HENRY:
On. [
Sea.
Voice
louder.
]
On! [
He
moves
on.
Boots
on
shingle.
As
he
goes.
]
Stop. [
Boots
on
shingle.
As
he
goes,
louder.
] Stop! [
He
halts.
Sea
a
little
louder.
]
Down. [
Sea.
Voice
louder
.]
Down! [
Slither
of
shingle
as
he
sits.
Sea,
still
faint,
audible
throughout
what
follows
whenever
pause
indicated.
]
Who is beside me now? [
Pause.
]
An old man, blind and foolish. [
Pause.
] My father, back from the dead, to be with me. [
Pause.
]
As if he hadn’t died. [
Pause.
] No, simply back from the dead, to be with me, in this strange place. [
Pause.
]
Can he hear me? [
Pause.
]
Yes, he must hear me. [
Pause.
]
To answer me? [
Pause.
]
No, he doesn’t answer me. [
Pause.
] Just be with me. [
Pause.
] That sound you hear is the sea. [
Pause.
Louder.
]
I say that sound you hear is the sea, we are sitting on the strand. [
Pause.
] I mention it because the sound is so strange, so
unlike
the sound of the sea, that if you didn’t see what it was you wouldn’t know what it
was. [
Pause.
]
Hooves! [
Pause.
Louder.
]
Hooves! [
Sound
of
hooves
walking
on
hard
road.
They
die
rapidly
away.
Pause.
]
Again! [
Hooves
as
before.
Pause.
Excitedly.
]
Train it to mark time! Shoe it with steel and tie it up in the yard, have it stamp
all day! [
Pause.
]
A ten-ton mammoth back from the dead, shoe it with steel and have it tramp the world
down! Listen to it! [
Pause.
]
Listen to the light now, you always loved light, not long past noon and all the shore
in shadow and the sea out as far as the island. [
Pause.
]
You would never live this side of the bay, you wanted the sun on the water for that
evening bathe you took once too often. But when I got your money I moved across, as
perhaps you may know. [
Pause.
]
We never
found your body, you know, that held up probate an
unconscionable
time, they said there was nothing to prove you hadn’t run away from us all and alive
and well under a false name in the Argentine for example, that grieved mother greatly.
[
Pause.
]
I’m like you in that, can’t stay away from it, but I never go in, no, I think the
last time I went in was with you. [
Pause.
]
Just be near it. [
Pause.
]
Today it’s calm, but I often hear it above in the house and walking the roads and
start talking, oh just loud enough to drown it, nobody notices. [
Pause.
]
But I’d be talking now no matter where I was, I once went to Switzerland to get away
from the cursed thing and never stopped all the time I was there. [
Pause.
]
I usen’t to need anyone, just to myself, stories, there was a great one about an
old fellow called Bolton, I never finished it, I never finished any of them, I never
finished anything, everything always went on for ever. [
Pause.
]
Bolton [
Pause.
Louder.
]
Bolton! [
Pause.
]
There before the fire. [
Pause.
]
Before the fire with all the shutters … no, hangings, hangings, all the hangings
drawn and the light, no light, only the light of the fire, sitting there in the …
no, standing, standing there on the
hearthrug
in the dark before the fire with his arms on the chimney-piece and his head on his
arms, standing there waiting in the dark before the fire in his old red dressing-gown
and no sound in the house of any kind, only the sound of the fire. [
Pause.
] Standing there in his old red dressing-gown might go on fire any minute like when
he was a child, no, that was his pyjamas, standing there waiting in the dark, no light,
only the light of the fire, and no sound of any kind, only the fire, an old man in
great trouble. [
Pause.
]
Ring then at the door and over he goes to the window and looks out between the hangings,
fine old chap, very big and strong, bright winter’s night, snow everywhere, bitter
cold, white world, cedar boughs bending under load and then as the arm goes up to
ring again recognizes … Holloway … [
Long
pause.
] … yes, Holloway, recognizes Holloway, goes down and opens. [
Pause.
]
Outside all still, not a sound, dog’s chain maybe or a bough groaning if you stood
there listening long
enough, white world, Holloway with his little black bag, not a sound, bitter cold,
full moon small and white, crooked trail of Holloway’s galoshes, Vega in the Lyre
very green. [
Pause.
]
Vega in the Lyre very green. [
Pause.
] Following conversation then on the step, no, in the room, back in the room, following
conversation then back in the room, Holloway: ‘My dear Bolton, it is now past midnight,
if you would be good enough—’, gets no further, Bolton: ‘Please! PLEASE!’ Dead silence
then, not a sound, only the fire, all coal, burning down now, Holloway on the hearthrug
trying to toast his arse, Bolton, where’s Bolton, no light, only the fire, Bolton
at the window his back to the hangings, holding them a little apart with his hand
looking out, white world, even the spire, white to the vane, most unusual, silence
in the house, not a sound, only the fire, no flames now, embers. [
Pause.
]
Embers. [
Pause.
] Shifting, lapsing, furtive like, dreadful sound, Holloway on the rug, fine old chap,
six foot, burly, legs apart, hands behind his back holding up the tails of his old
macfarlane, Bolton at the window, grand old figure in his old red dressing-gown, back
against the hangings, hand stretched out widening the chink, looking out, white world
great trouble, not a sound, only the embers, sound of dying, dying glow, Holloway,
Bolton, Bolton, Holloway, old men, great trouble, white world, not a sound. [
Pause.
] Listen to it! [
Pause.
]
Close your eyes and listen to it, what would you think it was? [
Pause.
Vehement.
]
A drip! A drip! [
Sound
of
drip,
rapidly
amplified,
suddenly
cut off.
]
Again! [
Drip again.
Amplification
begins.
]
No! [
Drip
cut
off.
Pause.
]
Father! [
Pause.
Agitated.
]
Stories, stories, years and years of stories, till the need came on me, for someone,
to be with me, anyone, a stranger, to talk to, imagine he hears me, years of that,
and then, now, for someone who … knew me, in the old days, anyone, to be with me,
imagine he hears me, what I am, now. [
Pause.
]
No good either. [
Pause.
] Not there either. [
Pause.
]
Try again. [
Pause.
]
White world, not a sound. [
Pause.
]
Holloway. [
Pause
.]
Holloway says he’ll go, damned if he’ll sit up all night before a black grate, doesn’t
understand, call a man out, an old friend, in the cold and dark, an old friend, urgent
need, bring the bag, then not a word, no explanation no heat, no light, Bolton: ‘Please!
PLEASE!’ Holloway, no refreshment, no welcome, chilled to the medulla, catch his death,
can’t understand, strange treatment, old friend, says he’ll go, doesn’t move, not
a sound, fire dying, white beam from window, ghastly scene, wishes to God he hadn’t
come, no good, fire out, bitter cold, great trouble, white world, not a sound, no
good. [
Pause.
]
No good. [
Pause.
]
Can’t do it. [
Pause.
]
Listen to it! [
Pause.
]
Father! [
Pause.
]
You wouldn’t know me now, you’d be sorry you ever had me, but you were that already,
a washout, that’s the last I heard from you, a washout. [
Pause.
Imitating
father’s
voice.
]
‘Are you coming for a dip?’ ‘No.’ ‘Come on, come on.’ ‘No.’ Glare, stump to door,
turn, glare. ‘A washout, that’s all you are, a washout!’ [
Violent
slam
of
door.
Pause.
]
Again! [
Slam.
Pause.
]
Slam life shut like that! [
Pause.
]
Washout. [
Pause.
]
Wish to Christ she had. [
Pause.
]
Never met Ada, did you, or did you, I can’t remember, no matter, no one’d know her
now. [
Pause.
]
What turned her against me do you think, the child I suppose, horrid little creature,
wish to God we’d never had her, I use to walk with her in the fields, Jesus that was
awful, she wouldn’t let go my hand and I mad to talk. ‘Run along now, Addie, and look
at the lambs.’ [
Imitating
 
ADDIE
’
s
voice.
]
‘No papa.’ ‘Go on now, go on.’ [
Plaintive.
]
‘No papa.’ [
Violent.
]
‘Go on with you when you’re told and look at the lambs!’ [
ADDIE
’
s
loud
wail.
Pause.
]
Ada too, conversation with her, that was something, that’s what hell will be like,
small chat to the babbling of Lethe about the good old days when we wished we were
dead. [
Pause.
]
Price of margarine fifty years ago. [
Pause.
]
And now. [
Pause.
With
solemn 
indig
nation
.
]
Price of blueband now! [
Pause.
]
Father! [
Pause.
] Tired of talking to you. [
Pause.
]
That was always the way, walk all over the mountains with you talking and talking
and then suddenly mum and home in misery and not a word to a soul for weeks, sulky
little bastard, better off dead. [
Long pause.
]
Ada. [
Pause.
Louder.
]
Ada!

ADA:
[
Low
remote
voice
throughout.
] Yes.

HENRY:
Have you been there long?

ADA:
Some little time. [
Pause.
]
Why do you stop, don’t mind me. [
Pause.
]
Do you want me to go away? [
Pause.
] Where is Addie?

[
Pause.
]

HENRY:
With her music master. [
Pause.
]
Are you going to answer me today?

ADA:
You shouldn’t be sitting on the cold stones, they’re bad for your growths. Raise
yourself up till I slip my shawl under you. [
Pause.
]
Is that better?

HENRY:
No comparison, no comparison. [
Pause.
]
Are you going to sit down beside me?

ADA:
Yes. [
No
sound
as
she
sits.
]
Like that? [
Pause.
]
Ordo you prefer like that? [
Pause.
]
You don’t care. [
Pause.
] Chilly enough I imagine, I hope you put on your jaegers. [
Pause.
]
Did you put on your jaegers, Henry?

HENRY:
What happened was this, I put them on and then I took them off again and then I put
them on again and then I took them off again and then I took them on again and then
I–

ADA:
Have you them on now?

HENRY:
I don’t know. [
Pause.
]
Hooves! [
Pause.
Louder.
] Hooves! [
Sound
of
hooves
walking
on
hard
road.
They
die
rapidly
away.
]
Again!

[
Hooves
as
before.
Pause.
]

ADA:
Did you hear them?

HENRY:
Not well.

ADA:
Galloping?

HENRY:
No. [
Pause.
]
Could a horse mark time?

[
Pause.
]

ADA:
I’m not sure that I know what you mean.

HENRY:
[
Irritably.
]
Could a horse be trained to stand still and mark time with its four legs?

ADA:
Oh. [
Pause.
]
The ones I used to fancy all did. [
She
laughs.
Pause.
]
Laugh, Henry, it’s not every day I crack a joke. [
Pause.
]
Laugh, Henry do that for me.

HENRY:
You wish
me
to laugh?

ADA:
You laughed so charmingly once, I think that’s what
first attracted me to you. That and your smile. [
Pause.
] Come on, it will be like old times.

[
Pause.
He
tries
to
laugh,
fails.
]

HENRY:
Perhaps I should begin with the smile. [
Pause
for
smile.
] Did that attract you? [
Pause.
]
Now I’ll try again. [
Long
horrible
laugh.
]
Any of the old charm there?