Is it true—that you’re going away with Cope?
NADINE. Yes.
(NADINE looks at LENNOX, then turns, crosses and exits to the marquee. There is a pause. The ARAB BOY enters from the marquee. He carries a tray with a cup and saucer on it.)
BOY. (Moving to MRS. BOYNTON) I bring you tea, lady, tea.
(MRS. BOYNTON strikes the table with her stick.)
(He squeals, drops the tray on the ground and runs to the marquee entrance.) Allah Kerim! Very bad devil. Very bad devil . . .
(The ARAB BOY runs into the marquee. RAYMOND enters from the marquee, looks at MRS. BOYNTON then crosses to LENNOX.)
LENNOX. (Quietly) That’s it. One of us has got to kill her.
(RAYMOND stares at LENNOX, then crosses to MRS. BOYNTON, who rises. RAYMOND helps her up on the rock up Right and settles her on the stool outside the cave. LENNOX stares out front. RAYMOND comes down and stands slightly behind LENNOX.)
RAYMOND. What did you say?
CURTAIN
Scene II
Scene: The same. Three hours later.
When the Curtain rises, it is just before sunset. MRS. BOYNTON is seated at the mouth of the cave up Right, but the cave is now in very deep shadow. GINEVRA enters cautiously from the marquee, hears voices off Right and slips back again. The DRAGOMAN, HIGGS and LADY WESTHOLME trail in Right in single file. They are tired, hot and cross. HIGGS crosses and collapses into the chair Left of the table. LADY WESTHOLME crosses and sits in the chair Right of the table. The DRAGOMAN stands Centre.
HIGGS. (Mopping his brow) Well, I reckon we’ve earned our supper. Ah reckon Miss Pryce knew what she was about, turning back wi’ headache. I’m fagged out, I am.
LADY WESTHOLME. I never feel fatigue.
HIGGS. I see—you’re as strong as a horse.
DRAGOMAN. Yes. You very strong lady. You walk up, down over—you just like goat.
LADY WESTHOLME. (Indignantly) Mahommed!
HIGGS. (Laughing) Aye, that’s it, Abraham, like a goat.
(LADY WESTHOLME freezes, and if looks could kill . . . )
(He mops his brow) Eh, but I’m in muck sweat.
LADY WESTHOLME. (At last finding her tongue again) Your sense of humour, Mr. Higgs, is only equalled by your choice of epithet. “Muck sweat” is applied to horses.
HIGGS. Now I come to think of it, you look more like a horse than a goat. (To the DRAGOMAN) Bring a big bottle of beer along to my tent, Abraham—aye, and take the same along to ’er ladyship, and charge it oop ter me. That’ll show there’s no ill feeling.
LADY WESTHOLME. Thank you—but I prefer a pot of tea.
DRAGOMAN. Too late make tea, lady. Supper now.
LADY WESTHOLME. Nonsense, there must be a kettle on the boil.
DRAGOMAN. No, lady, kettle him not boil now.
HIGGS. (Rising) That’s the best o’ beer, yer doan’t ’ave ter boil it. Yer know, I doan’t reckon much to this afternoon—why, we didn’t see nowt.
DRAGOMAN. (Crossing to HIGGS) oh, yes, please. You see maiden hairyfern, all hang down.
HIGGS. Well, ah can see that hanging oop in me green-’ouse at ’ome. Ah doan’t want to come abroad to ’eathen parts to see it ’angin’ down.
DRAGOMAN. Very good, I get beer.
(The DRAGOMAN crosses and exits to the marquee. HIGGS crosses to Right Centre.)
HIGGS. (Looking up at MRS. BOYNTON) And I see we’ve got our ’eathen idol with us still. Sitting oop there for all the world like summat out of Old Testament. Moloch, was it, as they used to sacrifice children to? How their parents fell for it beats me. Ee, they moost ’ave been daft.
LADY WESTHOLME. It was an age of crude superstition. Nowadays . . .
HIGGS. Nowadays there’s still sacrifices going on. I’ve kept my eyes open since I’ve been ’ere, and I tell you my ’eart bleeds for those kids of ’ers. That old image up there sees to it they’re sacrificed all right. She’s what them psycho-whatnots call a bluddy sadist.
LADY WESTHOLME. (Rising) Mr. Higgs—oh!
(LADY WESTHOLME, limping from a blistered foot, crosses and exits Right.)
HIGGS. (Sniffing) Ee, there’s a champion smell of animal sacrifice. Now let’s ’ope it won’t be a burnt offerin’.
(HIGGS exits Right. GINEVRA enters cautiously from the marquee, and moves up Centre. She has a long sharp knife in her hand. She is taken unawares by hearing GERARD’s voice off. She moves quickly to the table, conceals the knife under GERARD’s medical case, then picks up SARAH’s hypodermic case as though that had been her business at the table. GERARD enters from the marquee. GINEVRA moves quickly Centre.)
GERARD. (Noting her confusion) What have you got there? (He crosses to Left of GINEVRA.)
GINEVRA. Nothing.
GERARD. Give that to me. (He takes the case from her and opens it.) What have you done with the hypodermic?
GINEVRA. I don’t know. I haven’t touched it.
(GERARD frowns, moves to the table, puts SARAH’s case on it, then moves his own case preparatory to opening it and discovers the knife.)
GERARD. (Picking up the knife) Aha! (He moves down Right of the table.)
(GINEVRA springs forward and tries to take the knife from him.)
What is this?
GINEVRA. Give it me. I must have it.
GERARD. Where did you get it from?
GINEVRA. (Pointing to the marquee) From in there. I want it—to defend myself—against them.
GERARD. (Listen, mon enfant, you must give up all this make-believe. (He puts the knife on the table.)
GINEVRA. You say that—but you know that it’s true. (She moves close to him.) You followed me here, didn’t you? From Jerusalem. You’re here to protect me. I know you are.
GERARD. (Taking her hands) Listen, Ginevra, I want to help you . . .
GINEVRA. I knew—I knew. (Sweetly) You’re in love with me, aren’t you?
GERARD. I’m nearly old enough to be your father.
GINEVRA. But I like you very much. (She smiles at him.) Doctor Gerard, I don’t want to die. (Angrily) You must believe me—you must. (Confidentially) Listen, yesterday, they put poison in my food.
GERARD. (Firmly) No, your food was quite all right.
GINEVRA. You—you do know that I don’t really belong to them? You know that that’s true. You can see, can’t you, that I’m different?
GERARD. We would all like to be different.
GINEVRA. I can’t tell you who I am. I promised. (Grandly) My lips are sealed.
GERARD. (Firmly) You are Ginevra Boynton.
GINEVRA. I hate you. I hate you. (She crosses to the chair Right of the table, sits and cries.)
GERARD. (Moving behind her) Don’t you understand, Ginevra, that what you are doing is dangerous? The way of escape you have found for yourself is no real escape. You must face reality, not lose yourself in a world of fantasy.
GINEVRA. I thought you would help me to escape.
GERARD. That is what I want to do. (He moves to Left of the table.)
GINEVRA. You will take me away with you—to France—to Paris?
GERARD. I would like to take you to France. (He sits Left of the table.)
GINEVRA. You have a house there?
(GERARD nods.)
A castle?
GERARD. (With a smile) No, a clinic.
GINEVRA. (Doubtfully) Oh. (With curiosity) Should I like it there?
GERARD. Yes, you would do real things with your mind—and the unreal things would not be interesting any more.
GINEVRA. Real things. You wouldn’t tell me that I am ill all the time?
GERARD. No, for you are not ill.
GINEVRA. (With a gesture towards MRS. BOYNTON) She says I am ill. She—she wants me to be ill—she makes me ill. She says—she says—they are going to shut me up—(Her voice rises) to shut me up. (She rises and moves Right.)
GERARD. (Rising and moving above the table to Centre.) No, no, you must be calm.
GINEVRA. I want to come with yo
u.
GERARD. I know.
GINEVRA. Why can’t I? Because she won’t let me go?
GERARD. For the moment, that is true.
GINEVRA. She won’t let me go.
(GERARD moves to GINEVRA and puts a hand on her shoulder.)
GERARD. You must hold on, Jinny—hold on. Do you understand? It is just a question of waiting—perhaps not waiting very long.
GINEVRA. (Drawing away; emphatically) When she is dead, I can go. That is what you mean, isn’t it? When she is dead. When she is dead we can all go.
GERARD. Don’t talk like that.
GINEVRA. Why not? (She crosses to Left.) They did.
GERARD. Who did?
(GINEVRA looks at him sideways and laughs.)
GINEVRA. I heard them. They didn’t know I was there. They said that she’d got to be killed—that it was the only way.
GERARD. (Crossing to her) Who said that? (He takes both her hands in his.)
GINEVRA. They said one of us would have to do it—for the sake of the others.
GERARD. Who said so?
GINEVRA. Lennox and Raymond.
GERARD. You’re inventing again.
GINEVRA. No, this is really true.
GERARD. So you admit the other isn’t?
GINEVRA. (Angrily) I hate you. Let me go. Let me go.
(GINEVRA twists away from him, runs across and exits Right. NADINE enters Right as GINEVRA exits.)
NADINE. (Crossing to Centre) What’s the matter with Jinny?
(GERARD picks up the knife and shows it to NADINE.)
What’s that? A knife. That’s bad—that’s very bad.
GERARD. Yes, the case grows serious. (He puts the knife on the table.)
NADINE. (Moving Left Centre) But it’s not too late. She could have treatment.
GERARD. Yes, there is still time, but you understand—not much.
NADINE. (Crossing down Left) Do you believe in the Devil, Doctor Gerard?
GERARD. You mean, do I believe in Evil, positive Evil? Yes, I do.
NADINE. So do I.
(GERARD and NADINE look up at MRS. BOYNTON.)
GERARD. And we can do nothing.
NADINE. Don’t be too sure of that.
(COPE enters Right and crosses to Centre. He looks radiant.)
COPE. Must be nearly supper time.
GERARD. Yes, I must go and wash. (He picks up his case of drugs and crosses to Right.)
COPE. It seems almost chilly after the heat of the afternoon.
GERARD. Yes, there is a sharp fall of temperature at sunset.
(GERARD exits Right.)
COPE. (Crossing to NADINE) Hadn’t I better get you a wrap, Nadine?
NADINE. No, thank you, it will be hot in the marquee. Jeff, I was just—talking about Jinny to Doctor Gerard.
COPE. (His face becoming worried) Oh—Jinny. I was talking to Doctor Gerard yesterday, and he was quite confident that by treatment in his sanatorium he could effect a perfect cure. It’s a well-known place and bears the highest reputation. I said as much to Mrs. Boynton.
NADINE. So you talked to her about it. What did she say?
COPE. She said a mother’s care was worth all the newfangled doctors’ cures put together.
NADINE. (Crossing to Right Centre) She isn’t Jinny’s mother.
COPE. Why, no, that’s true. (He moves Left Centre) But I know she’s only anxious for Jinny’s good.
NADINE. (Impatiently yet tenderly) Oh, Jeff—the worst of a nice person like you—you’re so—so trusting.
COPE. I trust in you.
NADINE. Don’t.
COPE. You haven’t—changed your mind?
NADINE. (Moving to him) Why should you think I have? What’s the good of staying with Lennox? I must start a new life—with you. (She gives him her hand.)
COPE. It shall be a happy life, I promise you.
NADINE. Can anybody promise that?
(RAYMOND enters Right, moves to the deckchair down Right and sits lost in a brown study.)
COPE. I feel I ought to speak to Lennox. I don’t want to be anything but straightforward about this business.
NADINE. No, Jeff—please. No, I mean it.
DRAGOMAN. (Off, calling) Dinner, him ready.
NADINE. You go on.
(COPE hesitates, then exits to the marquee. LENNOX enters Right and crosses to NADINE.)
LENNOX. Nadine.
NADINE. Yes.
LENNOX. You took me by surprise this afternoon. Wait until we get back to Jerusalem. Things may be different then.
NADINE. (Turning to look at him) Different? How should they be different?
(The DRAGOMAN enters from the marquee. He holds a gong, which he beats with enjoyment.)
DRAGOMAN. Dinner, him ready.
(NADINE exits to the marquee. LENNOX follows her off. The ARAB BOY enters from the marquee. He has a tray of drinks which he puts on the table. He then exits to the marquee. HIGGS enters Right.)
HIGGS. (To the DRAGOMAN) Steady on, lad, we’re not deaf.
DRAGOMAN. Dinner, him ready.
HIGGS. All right, we ’eard yer first time.
(LADY WESTHOLME enters Right. The DRAGOMAN crosses and exits Right.)
LADY WESTHOLME. (Crossing and sitting Right of the table) Perfectly barbarous! Really, natives are just like children.
HIGGS. (Moving above the table) Aye, my kids at ’ome love bangin’ gong. (He pours drinks for LADY WESTHOLME and himself.) ’Ave you got any kids, Lady Westholme?
LADY WESTHOLME. No.
HIGGS. Soom’ow I didn’t think you ’ad. (He sits Left of the table.)
(GERARD enters Right and moves to RAYMOND.)
LADY WESTHOLME. Indeed!
(LADY WESTHOLME and HIGGS sip their drinks.)
GERARD. (To RAYMOND) Lost in thought?
RAYMOND. I was thinking of our expedition this morning—to the place of sacrifice.
GERARD. Yes.
RAYMOND. You know, I think one can attach too much regard to life. Death isn’t really as important as we make out. Sometimes, I think a sacrifice is really necessary.
GERARD. You mean—the sacrifice of human life?
RAYMOND. Yes.
GERARD. It is expedient that one man should die for the people? Is that your idea?
RAYMOND. Yes, there’s a great truth there.
(The ARAB BOY enters on to the rock from Right and unsuccessfully tries to rouse MRS. BOYNTON.)
GERARD. A man may lay down his life, that is one thing—to be forcibly deprived of it is another. I doubt if that has ever advanced human progress or human happiness.
RAYMOND. (Rising, excitedly) I don’t agree with you. It might be the only thing to do. There are deaths that would result only in good—deaths that would set people free—deaths that would save misery and disaster. The kind of death that would only mean advancing the clock a little. All that is needed is courage—yes, courage.
(The ARAB BOY comes down to GERARD and whispers in his ear. GERARD and the ARAB BOY exit Right. During the ensuing lines, GERARD enters on to the rock from Right and bends over MRS. BOYNTON. LADY WESTHOLME finishes her drink, rises and exits to the marquee. LENNOX enters Right and moves to RAYMOND.)
HIGGS. (To RAYMOND) Courage is a funny thing, young man. There’s men as’ll face machine guns and run from mother-in-law.
(MISS PRYCE enters Right.)
MISS PRYCE. Oh, I do hope you haven’t been waiting for me.
HIGGS. (Rising and placing a chair for MISS PRYCE) ’Ow’s t’cadache? (He pours a drink for MISS PRYCE.)
MISS PRYCE. (Crossing and sitting Right of the table) Quite gone now, thank you.
HIGGS. Sorry you ’ad ter come back this afternoon. (He resumes his seat.) But yer didn’t miss mooch—except a bit of an argument with ’er ’oity-toityness and old father Abraham.
MISS PRYCE. Oh—what about?
HIGGS. Everything. And she was always right and he was always wrong.
MISS PRYCE. And do you agree, Mr. Hig
gs?
HIGGS. Ah doan’t know. Ancient ’Istory isn’t mooch in my line. I started at ten sixty-six and went t’other way.
(SARAH enters Right, crosses and stands above the table.)
SARAH. (Yawning) Ooh—I’ve been asleep.
HIGGS. Pleasant dreams, I ’ope.
SARAH. No dreams at all.
HIGGS. Ah ’ad a peculiar dream once.
MISS PRYCE. Oh, do tell us, Mr. Higgs.
HIGGS. (Chuckling) Ah dreamt there was three of me—and only one glass of beer.
MISS PRYCE. Oh, Mr. Higgs! Well, I really did have a peculiar dream once. I dreamed that I was going to tea with the Archbishop of Canterbury—so I took a ticket to Walham Green, of all places—and then I found I was in my nightdress.
(GERARD comes down from the rock to LENNOX.)
GERARD. Mr. Boynton. I fear I have some very bad news for you. Your mother—(He pauses) is dead.
CURTAIN
ACT THREE
Scene I
SCENE: The same. The following morning.
When Curtain rises, the DRAGOMAN is asleep in the chair Right of the table. The ARAB BOY enters from the marquee, sweeping a small pile of rubbish before him with a long broom. He is not looking where he is going, and the broom strikes the DRAGOMAN’s feet. The DRAGOMAN wakes with a yell and chases the ARAB BOY off Right. SARAH and RAYMOND enter down the slope Left during this and watch with amusement. They move down Centre as the DRAGOMAN and the ARAB BOY exit to the marquee.
RAYMOND. Is it true, Sarah? Is it really true? You do care for me?
SARAH. Idiot!
(RAYMOND takes SARAH in his arms and they kiss.)
RAYMOND. (Crossing below the table) The whole thing is like a dream. It seems rather awful in a way—so soon after last night.
SARAH. (Moving to Right of him) Don’t be morbid. What’s the good of hypocrisy?
RAYMOND. All the same, you know, Sarah, it’s rather dreadful to be glad anyone is dead.
SARAH. Yes, I know. Your stepmother was not only an unpleasant woman, but a dangerous woman. It’s a mercy she died as she did. Frankly, it’s almost too good to be true.
RAYMOND. I know. I feel the same. It’s like coming out of the shadow into sunlight. (In a soft voice) We’re—free.
SARAH. It’s terrible that one human being should have been able to acquire such power over others.