COPE. Well—you are a devoted family.
(COPE exchanges a look and a smile with RAYMOND, and picks up a magazine from the table.)
SARAH enters up Right. She carries a small parcel. She goes on to the terrace and exits on it to Right. RAYMOND watches SARAH. MRS. BOYNTON watches RAYMOND.)
MRS. BOYNTON. (To COPE) We keep ourselves to ourselves. (To RAYMOND) Is that the girl you were talking to outside?
RAYMOND. Yes—er—yes.
MRS. BOYNTON. Who is she?
RAYMOND. Her name is King. She’s—she’s a doctor.
MRS. BOYNTON. I see. One of those women doctors. (Deliberately to him) I don’t think we’ll have much to do with her, son. (She rises.) Shall we go up now? (She picks up the medicine.)
(NADINE hastily puts her sewing together, rises, gets MRS. BOYNTON’s stick and hands it to her. LENNOX rises.)
(To COPE) I don’t know what I should do without Nadine.
(COPE moves to Right of MRS. BOYNTON and puts the magazine on the table Centre. NADINE is Left of MRS. BOYNTON.)
She takes such good care of me. (She moves towards the lift.)
(COPE, NADINE, LENNOX and RAYMOND move with MRS. BOYNTON to the lift. It is a royal procession. COPE rings the lift bell. GERARD watches them.)
But it’s dull for her sometimes. You ought to go sightseeing with Mr. Cope, Nadine.
COPE. (To NADINE; eagerly) I shall be only too delighted. Can’t we fix up something definite?
NADINE. We’ll see—tomorrow.
(The lift descends and the door opens. MRS. BOYNTON, NADINE, LENNOX and RAYMOND exit to the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends. COPE wanders around for a moment, then crosses to GERARD.)
COPE. Excuse me—but surely you’re Doctor Theodore Gerard?
GERARD. Yes. (He rises) But I’m afraid . . .
COPE. Naturally you wouldn’t remember me. But I had the pleasure of hearing you lecture at Harvard last year, and of being introduced to you afterwards. (Modestly) Oh, I was just one of fifty or so. A mighty interesting lecture it was, of course, on psychiatry.
GERARD. You are too kind.
COPE. Jerusalem certainly is full of celebrities. We must have a drink. What are you drinking?
GERARD. Thank you. Cinzano à l’eau.
COPE. (As he crosses to the desk) By the way, the name’s Cope. (To the CLERK) A Cinzano à l’eau and a rye straight. (He moves to Left of the table Centre.)
(The CLERK claps his hands. The ARAB BOY enters up Left, takes the order from the CLERK for the drinks and exits up Left.)
GERARD. (Moving to Right of the table Centre) Tell me—I am interested—is that a typical American family to whom you were talking?
COPE. Why, no, I wouldn’t say it was exactly typical.
GERARD. They seem—a very devoted family.
COPE. You mean they all seem to revolve round the old lady? That’s true enough. She’s a very remarkable woman, you know.
GERARD. Indeed? Tell me something about her. (He sits Right of the table Centre.)
COPE. I’ve been having that family a good deal on my mind lately. You see, young Mrs. Boynton, Mrs. Lennox Boynton, is an old friend of mine.
GERARD. Ah, yes, that very charming young lady?
COPE. That’s right—that’s Nadine. I knew her before her marriage to Lennox Boynton. She was training in hospital to be a nurse. Then she went for a vacation to stay with the Boyntons—they were distant cousins—and she married Lennox.
GERARD. And the marriage—it has been a happy one?
COPE. (After a pause; moving a little up Left Centre) I—I hardly know what to say about that.
GERARD. You are worried about something?
COPE. Yes. (He moves above the chair Left of the table Centre and leans on the back of it.) I’d value your opinion—that is, if you won’t be bored?
GERARD. I shall not be bored. People are my speciality—always they interest me. Tell me about this Boynton family.
COPE. Well, the late Elmore Boynton was a very rich man. This Mrs. Boynton was his second wife.
GERARD. She is the stepmother, then?
COPE. Yes, but they were young children at the time of the marriage, and they’ve always looked upon her as their own mother. They’re completely devoted to her, as you may have noticed.
GERARD. I noticed their—(He pauses) devotion—yes.
COPE. Elmore Boynton thought a lot of his second wife. When he died he left everything in her hands—she has an excellent head for business. Since his death she’s devoted herself entirely to those children, and she’s shut out the outside world altogether. I’m not sure, you know, that that is really a sound thing to do.
GERARD. Nothing could be more harmful to developing mentalities.
COPE. (Struck) Well now, that’s rather what I feel. In her devotion to them she’s never let them make any outside contacts. Result is, they’ve grown up kind of—(He pauses) nervy. They can’t make friends with strangers.
GERARD. Do they all live at home? Have the sons no professions? No careers?
COPE. No—there’s plenty of money, you see.
GERARD. But they are dependent on their stepmother financially?
COPE. That’s so. She’s encouraged them to live at home and not go out and look for jobs.
(The ARAB BOY enters up Left with two drinks on a tray. He serves the drinks to COPE and GERARD, then exits up Left.)
They don’t play golf, they don’t belong to any country clubs, they don’t go around to dances, or meet other young people.
GERARD. What do they do, then?
COPE. Well, they just—sit around. You’ve seen them today.
GERARD. And you disapprove?
COPE. (With heat) No boy ought to keep on being tied to his mother’s apron strings. He ought to strike out and be independent.
GERARD. And suppose that was impossible?
COPE. What do you mean—impossible?
GERARD. There are two ways, Mr. Cope, of preventing a tree from growing.
COPE. (Staring) They’re a fine healthy well-grown lot.
GERARD. The mind can be stunted as well as the body.
COPE. The mind?
GERARD. I don’t think you have quite grasped my point.
(COPE stares at GERARD.)
But continue.
COPE. (Moving Left Centre) What I feel is that it’s time Lennox Boynton stopped just sitting around twiddling his thumbs. How can a man who does that hope to keep a woman’s respect?
GERARD. (With a Gallic twinkle) Aha—I see—you are thinking of his wife. (He puts his glass on the table.)
COPE. I’m not ashamed of my feeling for that lady. I am very deeply attached to her. All I want is her happiness. If she were happy with Lennox, I’d sit right back and fade right out of the picture.
GERARD. (Rising and moving to Right of COPE) Chivalry only lives today in the American nation.
COPE. I don’t mind your laughing at me, Doctor Gerard. I dare say I sound romantic and old-fashioned, but that young man riles me. Sitting there reading a book and taking no notice of his wife or anybody else.
GERARD. (Moving above the table Centre to Right of it) But he was not reading a book.
COPE. (Puzzled) Not reading—but he had a book . . . (He puts his glass on the table.)
GERARD. He was holding that book upside down. Curious, is it not? (He sees Ginevra’s torn handkerchief on the floor.) And here is something else. (He picks up the handkerchief.) A handkerchief that has been torn to pieces, so—by a girl’s fingers.
COPE. (Moving below the table to Left of GERARD) But that’s—that’s very extraordinary.
GERARD. Yes, it is extraordinary. (He moves to the chair down Right and sits.) It is also very interesting.
COPE. Well, I’ve a great respect for maternal devotion, but I think it can be carried too far. (He moves Right Centre) I’ve got to get down to the American Express before they close. See you later.
GERARD. A toute à l’heu
re.
(COPE exits up Right.)
(He looks at the handkerchief.) Maternal devotion? I wonder.
(GINEVRA enters up Left, pauses, looks around, then comes swiftly and romantically across to GERARD.)
GINEVRA. Please, please—I must speak to you.
(GERARD looks at GINEVRA in astonishment, then rises.)
GERARD. Miss Boynton?
GINEVRA. (Dramatically) They’re taking me away. They’re planning to kill me—or shut me up. (She takes his arm and shakes it vehemently.) You must help me—you must help me. (She stares pleadingly up at his face.)
GERARD. This is your handkerchief?
GINEVRA. Yes. (She takes the handkerchief without interest.) Listen—I don’t belong to them really. My name’s not really Boynton at all. I’m—I’m—(She draws herself up) royal.
(GERARD studies her attentively.)
GERARD. I see. Yes, I see.
GINEVRA. I knew I could trust you. There are enemies, you know, all round me. They try to poison my food—all sorts of things—they don’t let me speak to anyone. If you could help me to escape . . . (She starts and looks around.) They’re coming. I’m spied on—all the time. (She moves quickly up Left.) They mustn’t know I’ve spoken to you.
(GINEVRA exits up Left.)
GERARD. (Moving Centre and looking after her) Nom d’un nom d’un nom!
(SARAH enters on the terrace from Centre and comes into the room.)
SARAH. (Moving to Right of GERARD) Has something upset you, Doctor Gerard?
GERARD. Yes, I am upset. Quelle histoire! Royal blood, persecution, poison in the food, surrounded by enemies.
(The lift descends and the door opens. LADY WESTHOLME, MISS PRYCE and the DRAGOMAN enter from Left. LADY WESTHOLME carries a copy of “The Times” and MISS PRYCE has her handbag.)
SARAH. But that . . . (She breaks off and moves down Right.)
(GERARD moves down Right Centre.)
LADY WESTHOLME. (Crossing to Left of GERARD) Ah—Doctor Gerard. I’ve been looking for you.
(The DRAGOMAN moves to Left of LADY WESTHOLME. MISS PRYCE moves to the desk.)
The arrangements for our trip to Petra are quite complete. We start on Tuesday and spend the night at Ammãn, then on to Petra the following day. The journey will be made in a first-class touring car. (She indicates the DRAGOMAN) This is our dragoman—Mahommed.
DRAGOMAN. My name not Mahommed, lady. My name Aissa.
LADY WESTHOLME. I always call dragomen Mahommed.
DRAGOMAN. I Christian dragoman. Name Aissa, all same Jesus.
LADY WESTHOLME. Most unsuitable. I shall call you Mahommed, so please don’t argue.
DRAGOMAN. As you like, lady. I always give satisfaction. (He moves above LADY WESTHOLME and stands between her and GERARD.) You see—(He produces a handful of dirty and torn letters) here are testimonials. Here one from English lady—Countess like you. Here one from very reverend clergyman—Bishop—wear gaiters and very funny hat. Here letter Miss Coralle Bell, lady who act and dance on stage. All say same thing—Aissa very clean—very religious—know all about Bible history . . .
LADY WESTHOLME. (Severely) I hope you are clean. Those testimonials look filthy to me.
DRAGOMAN. No, no, lady—no filthy postcards. No hot stuff. All very Christian—like Aissa. (He pats his chest.) Aissa very clean. Very hygiene.
(MISS PRYCE moves down Left Centre.)
LADY WESTHOLME. (To GERARD) As I was saying, we will start Tuesday. That will be four of us—Mohommed, you and—and now who is the fourth?
(MISS PRYCE moves to Left of LADY WESTHOLME and gives an apologetic little cough.)
Oh, yes, Miss Pryce, of course.
MISS PRYCE. So kind of you. Really, it will be a wonderful experience. Perhaps a little tiring.
LADY WESTHOLME. (Cutting her short) I never feel fatigue.
MISS PRYCE. It really is wonderful—in spite of all you do.
LADY WESTHOLME. I have always found hard work a great stimulant.
(MISS PRYCE moves and sits Left of the table Centre.)
I was about to say, Doctor Gerard, that that will leave a vacant place in the car, since Mahommed, of course, will sit beside the driver.
DRAGOMAN. I stop car, turn round and tell you everything we see.
LADY WESTHOLME. That’s what I’m afraid of.
(The DRAGOMAN goes on to the terrace, tries to sell curios to the ITALIAN GIRL, fails, moves to the desk and has a word or two with the CLERK.)
It occurred to me that if you knew of anyone suitable it would reduce the expense. I abhor useless extravagance. (She looks pointedly at SARAH.)
GERARD. Miss King? You were, I believe, expressing the wish to visit Petra. May I introduce Miss King—no, Doctor King—Lady Westholme.
(SARAH moves to Right of GERARD.)
LADY WESTHOLME. (Patronizingly) I am always glad to meet a young woman who has set out to make a career for herself.
MISS PRYCE. Yes, women do such wonderful things nowadays.
LADY WESTHOLME. Don’t be foolish, Miss Pryce. You had better go with Mahommed and buy that Keatings powder at the chemist’s. We shall probably need it.
DRAGOMAN. (Moving to Left of MISS PRYCE) No, no—no bugs—no fleas. Everything very nice—very clean.
LADY WESTHOLME. Get the Keatings.
MISS PRYCE. (Rising) Yes, yes, of course, Lady Westholme. (She drops her bag.)
(The DRAGOMAN picks up MISS PRYCE’s bag and returns it to her. MISS PRYCE moves to the arch up Right. The DRAGOMAN follows her. She quickens her pace, protesting she does not want to buy anything, until they end almost running off.)
DRAGOMAN. (As they go) I take you curio shop, too. Crosses, paper knives, inkstands, all made out of olive wood from Mount of Olives. Very nice souvenirs take home. All genuine—no rubbish.
(MISS PRYCE and the DRAGOMAN exit up Right.)
LADY WESTHOLME. She’s a well-meaning creature, but of course not quite a sahib. Still, one mustn’t let her feel that. I do so abhor snobbishness. Well, Miss King, I hope you will join us. But please do not bring a lot of baggage. We shall travel light.
SARAH. I shall have to think it over.
LADY WESTHOLME. (Graciously) Discuss it with Doctor Gerard. (To GERARD) I think we shall be meeting again at the High Commissioner’s at dinner tonight?
GERARD. I shall look forward to that pleasure.
(LADY WESTHOLME crosses to the chair down Right, sits and reads her paper. GERARD and SARAH move up Centre to the terrace.)
(As they go) Have you seen the view from the terrace—it is really very fine.
(GERARD and SARAH exit the terrace to Right. HIGGS enters and crosses towards the lift.)
CLERK. (To HIGGS) Excuse me, sir, but I am changing your room.
(HIGGS stops and stands up Left Centre.)
There was an unfortunate mistake . . .
HIGGS. What d’yer mean—mistake? Ah doesn’t want ter change my room.
(He moves above the table Centre.)
CLERK. Unfortunately we find that room was booked for Lady Westholme. We shall have to move you to the second floor.
HIGGS. Fer ’oo?
CLERK. Lady Westholme.
HIGGS. Lady Westholme! (He chuckles) That’s a rum ’un. Lady Westholme! Where is she?
LADY WESTHOLME. (Rising and advancing on HIGGS) I am Lady Westholme.
HIGGS. Oh! So you’re Lady Westholme. Ah’m glad ter meet yer. (He politely raises his hat.) Ah’ve been wantin’ ter meet you for a long time.
LADY WESTHOLME. Meet me?
HIGGS. Aye, you.
LADY WESTHOLME. Meet me—what for?
HIGGS. My name’s ’Iggs.
LADY WESTHOLME. ’Iggs?
HIGGS. No, not ’Iggs—’Iggs.
LADY WESTHOLME. Well?
HIGGS. ’Iggs—Halderman ’Iggs.
LADY WESTHOLME. Well?
HIGGS. (Chuckling) Ah coom from Lancashire—same as you do—but I see yer doan’t know ’oo I am.
br /> LADY WESTHOLME. You’ve just told me, Alderman ’Iggs—Higgs.
HIGGS. Ah, but it doesn’t mean nowt to yer?
LADY WESTHOLME. Ought it to?
HIGGS. Aybe, by gum, it ought. But if yer don’t know why—I’m not goin’ ter tell yer. And another thing—I’m not changing any rooms.
LADY WESTHOLME. But that room was reserved for me.
(The lift door closes and the lift ascends.)
HIGGS. Do yer think I’m daft? Ah’ve been ’ere four days, and soon as you arrive ah’ve got the wrong room. But ah ’aven’t—see? Now if you wanted my room special—and coom ter me in a friendly spirit—I doan’t say I would of—but I might of—see? This may be King Solomon ’Otel, but you’re not Queen of Sheba. (He moves up Centre.)
(LADY WESTHOLME decides to ignore HIGGS and turns on the CLERK.)
LADY WESTHOLME. Unless I am moved down to the first floor by this evening I shall report the matter to the High Commissioner.
CLERK. But, your ladyship, I . . .
LADY WESTHOLME. I never argue.
(LADY WESTHOLME turns and exits up Right.)
HIGGS. (To the CLERK) And if you so much as shift a bluddy toothbrush from that room I won’t pay a bluddy penny.
(HIGGS exits on the terrace to Left. SARAH and GERARD enter on the terrace from Right, come into the room and stand Right Centre.)
SARAH. (As they enter) I certainly would love to see Petra—and I definitely couldn’t afford to go on my own.
(The lift descends and the door opens. RAYMOND enters from the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends.)
GERARD. Then I think you will come?
(SARAH turns and sees RAYMOND.)
SARAH. I—I’m not sure . . .
(GERARD looks amused and exits up Right.)
RAYMOND. (Agitated) I—I must speak to you.
SARAH. (Moving to Right of the table Centre, amused) Well, why not?
RAYMOND. (Moving to Left of the table Centre) You don’t understand. I’d like to tell you . . . (He breaks off.)
SARAH. Is anything the matter?
RAYMOND. I came down to see if Mother had left her spectacles on the table here. I—I mustn’t be long.
SARAH. Is there such a hurry?
RAYMOND. You see, my mother—(He pauses) You don’t know my mother.
SARAH. I caught a glimpse of her on the train last night, and I saw her sitting here this afternoon.