Giving and taking, in the usual actions

  What there is to give and take. They do not repine;

  Are contented with the morning that separates

  And with the evening that brings together

  For casual talk before the fire

  Two people who know they do not understand each other,

  Breeding children whom they do not understand

  And who will never understand them.

  CELIA. Is that the best life?

  REILLY. It is a good life. Though you will not know how good

  Till you come to the end. But you will want nothing else,

  And the other life will be only like a book

  You have read once, and lost. In a world of lunacy,

  Violence, stupidity, greed … it is a good life.

  CELIA. I know I ought to be able to accept that

  If I might still have it. Yet it leaves me cold.

  Perhaps that’s just a part of my illness,

  But I feel it would be a kind of surrender —

  No, not a surrender — more like a betrayal.

  You see, I think I really had a vision of something

  Though I don’t know what it is. I don’t want to forget it.

  I want to live with it. I could do without everything,

  Put up with anything, if I might cherish it.

  In fact, I think it would really be dishonest

  For me, now, to try to make a life with anybody!

  I couldn’t give anyone the kind of love —

  I wish I could — which belongs to that life.

  Oh, I’m afraid this sounds like raving!

  Or just cantankerousness … still,

  If there’s no other way … then I feel just hopeless.

  REILLY. There is another way, if you have the courage.

  The first I could describe in familiar terms

  Because you have seen it, as we all have seen it,

  Illustrated, more or less, in lives of those about us.

  The second is unknown, and so requires faith —

  The kind of faith that issues from despair.

  The destination cannot be described;

  You will know very little until you get there;

  You will journey blind. But the way leads towards possession

  Of what you have sought for in the wrong place.

  CELIA. That sounds like what I want. But what is my duty?

  REILLY. Whichever way you choose will prescribe its own duty.

  CELIA. Which way is better?

  REILLY. Neither way is better.

  Both ways are necessary. It is also necessary

  To make a choice between them.

  CELIA. Then I choose the second.

  REILLY. It is a terrifying journey.

  CELIA. I am not frightened

  But glad. I suppose it is a lonely way?

  REILLY. No lonelier than the other. But those who take the other

  Can forget their loneliness. You will not forget yours.

  Each way means loneliness — and communion.

  Both ways avoid the final desolation

  Of solitude in the phantasmal world

  Of imagination, shuffling memories and desires.

  CELIA. That is the hell I have been in.

  REILLY. It isn’t hell

  Till you become incapable of anything else.

  Now — do you feel quite sure?

  CELIA. I want your second way.

  So what am I to do?

  REILLY. You will go to the sanatorium.

  CELIA. Oh, what an anti-climax! I have known people

  Who have been to your sanatorium, and come back again —

  I don’t mean to say they weren’t much better for it —

  That’s why I came to you. But they returned …

  Well … I mean … to everyday life.

  REILLY. True. But the friends you have in mind

  Cannot have been to this sanatorium.

  I am very careful whom I send there:

  Those who go do not come back as these did.

  CELIA. It sounds like a prison. But they can’t all stay there!

  I mean, it would make the place so over-crowded.

  REILLY. Not very many go. But I said they did not come back

  In the sense in which your friends came back.

  I did not say they stayed there.

  CELIA. What becomes of them?

  REILLY. They choose, Miss Coplestone. Nothing is forced on them.

  Some of them return, in a physical sense;

  No one disappears. They lead very active lives

  Very often, in the world.

  CELIA. How soon will you send me there?

  REILLY. How soon will you be ready?

  CELIA. Tonight, by nine o’clock.

  REILLY. Go home then, and make your preparations.

  Here is the address for you to give your friends;

  [Writes on a slip of paper]

  You had better let your family know at once.

  I will send a car for you at nine o’clock.

  CELIA. What do I need to take with me?

  REILLY. Nothing.

  Everything you need will be provided for you,

  And you will have no expenses at the sanatorium.

  CELIA. I don’t in the least know what I am doing

  Or why I am doing it. There is nothing else to do:

  That is the only reason.

  REILLY. It is the best reason.

  CELIA. But I know it is I who have made the decision:

  I must tell you that. Oh, I almost forgot —

  May I ask what your fee is?

  REILLY. I have told my secretary

  That there is no fee.

  CELIA. But …

  REILLY. For a case like yours

  There is no fee.

  [Presses button]

  CELIA. You have been very kind.

  REILLY. Go in peace, my daughter.

  Work out your salvation with diligence.

  [NURSE-SECRETARY appears at door. Exit CELIA. REILLY dials on house-telephone.]

  REILLY [into telephone]. It is finished. You can come in now.

  [Enter JULIA by side door]

  She will go far, that one.

  JULIA. Very far, I think.

  You do not need to tell me. I knew from the beginning.

  REILLY. It’s the other ones I am worried about.

  JULIA. Nonsense, Henry, I shall keep an eye on them.

  REILLY. To send them back: what have they to go back tc?

  To the stale food mouldering in the larder,

  The stale thoughts mouldering in their minds.

  Each unable to disguise his own meanness

  From himself, because it is known to the other.

  It’s not the knowledge of the mutual treachery

  But the knowledge that the other understands the motive —

  Mirror to mirror, reflecting vanity.

  I have taken a great risk.

  JULIA. We must always take risks.

  That is our destiny. Since you question the decision

  What possible alternative can you imagine?

  REILLY. None.

  JULIA. Very well then. We must take the risk.

  All we could do was to give them the chance.

  And now, when they are stripped naked to their souls

  And can choose, whether to put on proper costumes

  Or huddle quickly into new disguises,

  They have, for the first time, somewhere to start from.

  Oh, of course, they might just murder each other!

  But I don’t think they will do that. We shall see.

  It’s the thought of Celia that weighs upon my mind.

  REILLY. Of Celia?

  JULIA. Of Celia.

  REILLY. But when I said just now

  That she would go far, you agreed with me.

  JULIA. Oh yes, she will go far. And we know wher
e she is going.

  But what do we know of the terrors of the journey?

  You and I don’t know the process by which the human is

  Transhumanised: what do we know

  Of the kind of suffering they must undergo

  On the way of illumination?

  REILLY. Will she be frightened

  By the first appearance of projected spirits?

  JULIA. Henry, you simply do not understand innocence.

  She will be afraid of nothing; she will not even know

  That there is anything there to be afraid of.

  She is too humble. She will pass between the scolding hills,

  Through the valley of derision, like a child sent on an errand

  In eagerness and patience. Yet she must suffer.

  REILLY. When I express confidence in anything

  You always raise doubts; when I am apprehensive

  Then you see no reason for anything but confidence.

  JULIA. That’s one way in which I am so useful to you.

  You ought to be grateful.

  REILLY. And when I say to one like her

  ‘Work out your salvation with diligence’, I do not understand

  What I myself am saying.

  JULIA. You must accept your limitations.

  — But how much longer will Alex keep us waiting?

  REILLY. He should be here by now. I’ll speak to Miss Barraway.

  [Takes up house-telephone]

  Miss Barraway, when Mr. Gibbs arrive …

  Oh, very good.

  [To JULIA] He’s on his way up.

  [Into telephone]

  You may bring the tray in now, Miss Barraway.

  [Enter ALEX]

  ALEX. Well! Well! and how have we got on?

  JULIA. Everything is in order.

  ALEX. The Chamberlaynes have chosen?

  REILLY. They accept their destiny.

  ALEX. And she has made the choice?

  REILLY. She will be fetched this evening.

  [NURSE-SECRETARY enters with a tray, a decanter and three glasses, and exit. REILLY pours drinks.]

  And now we are ready to proceed to the libation.

  ALEX. The words for the building of the hearth.

  [They raise their glasses]

  REILLY. Let them build the hearth

  Under the protection of the stars.

  ALEX. Let them place a chair each side of it.

  JULIA. May the holy ones watch over the roof,

  May the moon herself influence the bed.

  [They drink]

  ALEX. The words for those who go upon a journey.

  REILLY. Protector of travellers

  Bless the road.

  ALEX. Watch over her in the desert.

  Watch over her in the mountain.

  Watch over her in the labyrinth.

  Watch over her by the quicksand.

  JULIA.

  Protect her from the Voices

  Protect her from the Visions

  Protect her in the tumult

  Protect her in the silence.

  [They drink]

  REILLY. There is one for whom the words cannot be spoken.

  ALEX. They can not be spoken yet.

  JULIA. You mean Peter Quilpe.

  REILLY. He has not yet come to where the words are valid.

  JULIA. Shall we ever speak them?

  ALEX. Others, perhaps, will speak them.

  You know, I have connections — even in California.

  CURTAIN

  Act Three

  The drawing-room of the Chamberlaynes’ London flat. Two years later. A late afternoon in July. A CATERER’S MAN is arranging a buffet table. LAVINIA enters from side door.

  CATERER’S MAN. Have you any further orders for us, Madam?

  LAVINIA. You could bring in the trolley with the glasses

  And leave them ready.

  CATERER’S MAN. Very good, Madam.

  [Exit. LAVINIA looks about the room critically and moves a bowl of flowers.]

  [Re-enter CATERER’S MAN with trolley]

  LAVINIA. There, in that corner. That’s the most convenient;

  You can get in and out. Is there anything you need

  That you can’t find in the kitchen?

  CATERER’S MAN. Nothing, Madam.

  Will there be anything more you require?

  LAVINIA. Nothing more, I think, till half past six.

  [Exit CATERER’S MAN]

  [EDWARD lets himself in at the front door]

  EDWARD. I’m in good time, I think. I hope you’ve not been worrying.

  LAVINIA. Oh no. I did in fact ring up your chambers,

  And your clerk told me you had already left.

  But all I rang up for was to reassure you …

  EDWARD [smiling]. That you hadn’t run away?

  LAVINIA. Now Edward, that’s unfair!

  You know that we’ve given several parties

  In the last two years. And I’ve attended all of them.

  I hope you’re not too tired?

  EDWARD. Oh no, a quiet day.

  Two consultations with solicitors

  On quite straightforward cases. It’s you who should be tired.

  LAVINIA. I’m not tired yet. But I know that I’ll be glad

  When it’s all over.

  EDWARD. I like the dress you’re wearing:

  I’m glad you put on that one.

  LAVINIA. Well, Edward!

  Do you know it’s the first time you’ve paid me a compliment

  Before a party? And that’s when one needs them.

  EDWARD. Well, you deserve it. — We asked too many people.

  LAVINIA. It’s true, a great many more accepted

  Than we thought would want to come. But what can you do?

  There’s usually a lot who don’t want to come

  But all the same would be bitterly offended

  To hear we’d given a party without asking them.

  EDWARD. Perhaps we ought to have arranged to have two parties

  Instead of one.

  LAVINIA. That’s never satisfactory.

  Everyone who’s asked to either party

  Suspects that the other one was more important.

  EDWARD. That’s true. You have a very practical mind.

  LAVINIA. But you know, I don’t think that you need worry:

  They won’t all come, out of those who accepted.

  You know we said, ‘we can ask twenty more

  Because they will be going to the Gunnings instead’.

  EDWARD. I know, that’s what we said at the time;

  But I’d forgotten what the Gunnings’ parties were like.

  Their guests will get just enough to make them thirsty;

  They’ll come on to us later, roaring for drink.

  Well, let’s hope that those who come to us early

  Will be going on to the Gunnings afterwards,

  To make room for those who come from the Gunnings.

  LAVINIA. And if it’s very crowded, they can’t get at the cocktails,

  And the man won’t be able to take the tray about,

  So they’ll go away again. Anyway, at that stage

  There’s nothing whatever you can do about it:

  And everyone likes to be seen at a party

  Where everybody else is, to show they’ve been invited.

  That’s what makes it a success. Is that picture straight?

  EDWARD. Yes, it is.

  LAVINIA. No, it isn’t. Do please straighten it.

  EDWARD. Is it straight now?

  LAVINIA. Too much to the left.

  EDWARD. How’s that now?

  LAVINIA. No, I meant the right.

  That will do. I’m too tired to bother.

  EDWARD. After they’re all gone, we will have some champagne,

  Just ourselves. You lie down now, Lavinia

  No one will be coming for at least half an hour;

  So just stretch out
.

  LAVINIA. You must sit beside me,

  Then I can relax.

  EDWARD. This is the best moment

  Of the whole party.

  LAVINIA. Oh no, Edward.

  The best moment is the moment it’s over;