The Complete Poems and Plays, 1909-1950

  I want him to go in a very different spirit

  From that which he has just been exhibiting.

  MONICA. Michael! Say something.

  MICHAEL. What is there to say?

  I want to leave England, and make my own career:

  And Father simply calls me a coward.

  MONICA. Father! You know that I would give my life for you.

  Oh, how silly that phrase sounds! But there’s no vocabulary

  For love within a family, love that’s lived in

  But not looked at, love within the light of which

  All else is seen, the love within which

  All other love finds speech.

  This love is silent.

  What can I say to you?

  However Michael has behaved, Father,

  Whatever Father has said, Michael,

  You must forgive each other, you must love each other.

  MICHAEL. I could have loved Father, if he’d wanted love,

  But he never did, Monica, not from me.

  You know I’ve always been very fond of you —

  I’ve a very affectionate nature, really,

  But …

  [Enter MRS. CARGHILL with despatch-case]

  MRS. CARGHILL. Richard! I didn’t think you’d still be here.

  I came back to have a quiet read of your letters;

  But how nice to find a little family party!

  I know who you are! You’re Monica, of course:

  And this must be your brother, Michael.

  I’m right, aren’t I?

  MICHAEL. Yes, you’re right.

  But …

  MRS. CARGHILL. How did I know? Because you’re so like your father

  When he was your age. He’s the picture of you, Richard,

  As you were once. You’re not to introduce us,

  I’ll introduce myself. I’m Maisie Montjoy!

  That means nothing to you, my dears.

  It’s a very long time since the name of Maisie Montjoy

  Topped the bill in revue. Now I’m Mrs. John Carghill.

  Richard! It’s astonishing about your children:

  Monica hardly resembles you at all,

  But Michael — your father has changed a good deal

  Since I knew him ever so many years ago,

  Yet you’re the image of what he was then.

  Your father was a very dear friend of mine once.

  MICHAEL. Did he really look like me?

  MRS. CARGHILL. You’ve his voice! and his way of moving! It’s marvellous.

  And the charm! He’s inherited all of your charm, Richard.

  There’s no denying it. But who’s this coming?

  It’s another new guest here. He’s waving to us.

  Do you know him, Richard?

  LORD CLAVERTON. It’s a man I used to know.

  MRS. CARGHILL. How interesting! He’s a very good figure

  And he’s rather exotic-looking. Is he a foreigner?

  LORD CLAVERTON. He comes from some place in Central America.

  MRS. CARGHILL. How romantic! I’d love to meet him.

  He’s coming to speak to us. You must introduce him.

  [Enter GOMEZ]

  GOMEZ. Good morning, Dick.

  LORD CLAVERTON. Good morning, Fred.

  GOMEZ. You weren’t expecting me to join you here, were you?

  You’re here for a rest cure. I persuaded my doctor

  That I was in need of a rest cure too.

  And when I heard you’d chosen to come to Badgley Court

  I said to my doctor, ‘Well, what about it?

  What better recommendation could I have?’

  So he sent me here.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Oh, you’ve seen each other lately?

  Richard, I think that you might introduce us.

  LORD CLAVERTON. Oh. This is …

  GOMEZ. Your old friend Federico Gomez,

  The prominent citizen of San Marco.

  That’s my name.

  LORD CLAVERTON. So let me introduce you — by that name —

  To Mrs … Mrs …

  MRS. CARGHILL. Mrs. John Carghill.

  GOMEZ. We seem a bit weak on the surnames, Dick!

  MRS. CARGHILL. Well, you see, Señor Gomez, when we first became friends —

  Lord Claverton and I — I was known by my stage name.

  There was a time, once, when everyone in London

  Knew the name of Maisie Montjoy in revue.

  GOMEZ. If Maisie Montjoy was as beautiful to look at

  As Mrs. Carghill, I can well understand

  Her success on the stage.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Oh, did you never see me?

  That’s a pity, Señor Gomez.

  GOMEZ. I lost touch with things in England.

  Had I been in London, and in Dick’s position

  I should have been your most devoted admirer.

  MRS. CARGHILL. It’s Not Too Late For You To Love Me! That’s the song

  That made my reputation, Señor Gomez.

  GOMEZ. It will never be too late. Don’t you agree, Dick?

  — This young lady I take to be your daughter?

  And this is your son?

  LORD CLAVERTON. This is my son Michael,

  And my daughter Monica.

  MONICA. How do you do.

  Michael!

  MICHAEL. How do you do.

  MRS. CARGHILL. I don’t believe you’ve known Lord Claverton

  As long as I have, Señor Gomez.

  GOMEZ. My dear lady, you’re not old enough

  To have known Dick Ferry as long as I have.

  We were friends at Oxford.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Oh, so you were at Oxford!

  Is that how you come to speak such perfect English?

  Of course, I could tell from your looks that you were Spanish.

  I do like Spaniards. They’re so aristocratic.

  But it’s very strange that we never met before.

  You were a friend of Richard’s at Oxford

  And Richard and I became great friends

  Not long afterwards, didn’t we, Richard?

  GOMEZ. I expect that was after I had left England.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Of course, that explains it. After Oxford

  I suppose you went back to … where is your home?

  GOMEZ. The republic of San Marco.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Went back to San Marco.

  Señor Gomez, if it’s true you’re staying at Badgley Court,

  I warn you — I’m going to cross-examine you

  And make you tell me all about Richard

  In his Oxford days.

  GOMEZ. On one condition:

  That you tell me all about Dick when you knew him.

  MRS. CARGHILL [pats her despatch-case]. Secret for secret, Señor Gomez!

  You’ve got to be the first to put your cards on the table!

  MONICA. Father, I think you should take your rest now.

  — I must explain that the doctors were very insistent

  That my father should rest and have absolute quiet

  Before every meal.

  LORD CLAVERTON. But Michael and I

  Must continue our discussion. This afternoon, Michael.

  MONICA. No, I think you’ve had enough talk for to-day.

  Michael, as you’re staying so close at hand

  Will you come back in the morning? After breakfast?

  LORD CLAVERTON. Yes, come tomorrow morning.

  MICHAEL. Well, I’ll come tomorrow morning.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Are you staying in the neighbourhood, Michael?

  Your father is such an old friend of mine

  That it seems most natural to call you Michael.

  You don’t mind, do you?

  MICHAEL. No, I don’t mind.

  I’m staying at the George — it’s not far away.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Then I’d like to walk a little way with you.

  MICHAEL. Delighted, I’m sure.


  GOMEZ. Taking a holiday?

  You’re in business in London, aren’t you?

  MICHAEL. Not a holiday, no. I’ve been in business in London,

  But I think of cutting loose, and going abroad.

  MRS. CARGHILL. You must tell me all about it. Perhaps I could advise you.

  We’ll leave you now, Richard. Au revoir, Monica.

  And Señor Gomez, I shall hold you to your promise!

  [Exeunt Mrs. CARGHILL and MICHAEL]

  GOMEZ. Well, Dick, we’ve got to obey our doctors’ orders.

  But while we’re here, we must have some good talks

  About old times. Bye bye for the present.

  [Exit]

  MONICA. Father, those awful people. We mustn’t stay here.

  I want you to escape from them.

  LORD CLAVERTON. What I want to escape from

  Is myself, is the past. But what a coward I am,

  To talk of escaping! And what a hypocrite!

  A few minutes ago I was pleading with Michael

  Not to try to escape from his own past failures:

  I said I knew from experience. Do I understand the meaning

  Of the lesson I would teach? Come, I’ll start to learn again.

  Michael and I shall go to school together.

  We’ll sit side by side, at little desks

  And suffer the same humiliations

  At the hands of the same master. But have I still time?

  There is time for Michael. Is it too late for me, Monica?

  CURTAIN

  Act Three

  Same as Act Two. Late afternoon of the following day.MONICA seated alone. Enter CHARLES.

  CHARLES. Well, Monica, here I am. I hope you got my message.

  MONICA. Oh Charles, Charles, Charles, I’m so glad you’ve come!

  I’ve been so worried, and rather frightened.

  It was exasperating that they couldn’t find me

  When you telephoned this morning. That Mrs. Piggott

  Should have heard my beloved’s voice

  And I couldn’t, just when I had been yearning

  For the sound of it, for the caress that is in it!

  Oh Charles, how I’ve wanted you! And now I need you.

  CHARLES. My darling, what I want is to know that you need me.

  On that last day in London, you admitted that you loved me,

  But I wondered … I’m sorry, I couldn’t help wondering

  How much your words meant. You didn’t seem to need me then.

  And you said we weren’t engaged yet …

  MONICA. We’re engaged now.

  At least I’m engaged. I’m engaged to you for ever.

  CHARLES. There’s another shopping expedition we must make!

  But my darling, since I got your letter this morning

  About your father and Michael, and those people from his past,

  I’ve been trying to think what I could do to help him.

  If it’s blackmail, and that’s very much what it looks like,

  Do you think I could persuade him to confide in me?

  MONICA. Oh Charles! How could anyone blackmail Father?

  Father, of all people the most scrupulous,

  The most austere. It’s quite impossible.

  Father with a guilty secret in his past!

  I just can’t imagine it.

  [CLAVERTON has entered unobserved]

  MONICA. I never expected you from that direction, Father!

  I thought you were indoors. Where have you been?

  LORD CLAVERTON. Not far away. Standing under the great beech tree.

  MONICA. Why under the beech tree?

  LORD CLAVERTON. I feel drawn to that spot.

  No matter. I heard what you said about guilty secrets.

  There are many things not crimes, Monica,

  Beyond anything of which the law takes cognisance:

  Temporary failures, irreflective aberrations,

  Reckless surrenders, unexplainable impulses,

  Moments we regret in the very next moment,

  Episodes we try to conceal from the world.

  Has there been nothing in your life, Charles Hemington,

  Which you wish to forget? Which you wish to keep unknown?

  CHARLES. There are certainly things I would gladly forget, Sir,

  Or rather, which I wish had never happened.

  I can think of things you don’t yet know about me, Monica,

  But there’s nothing I would ever wish to conceal from you.

  LORD CLAVERTON. If there’s nothing, truly nothing, that you couldn’t tell Monica

  Then all is well with you. You’re in love with each other —

  I don’t need to be told what I’ve seen for myself!

  And if there is nothing that you conceal from her

  However important you may consider it

  To conceal from the rest of the world — your soul is safe.

  If a man has one person, just one in his life,

  To whom he is willing to confess everything —

  And that includes, mind you, not only things criminal,

  Not only turpitude, meanness and cowardice,

  But also situations which are simply ridiculous,

  When he has played the fool (as who has not?) —

  Then he loves that person, and his love will save him.

  I’m afraid that I’ve never loved anyone, really.

  No, I do love my Monica — but there’s the impediment:

  It’s impossible to be quite honest with your child

  If you’ve never been honest with anyone older,

  On terms of equality. To one’s child one can’t reveal oneself

  While she is a child. And by the time she’s grown

  You’ve woven such a web of fiction about you!

  I’ve spent my life in trying to forget myself,

  In trying to identify myself with the part

  I had chosen to play. And the longer we pretend

  The harder it becomes to drop the pretence,

  Walk off the stage, change into our own clothes

  And speak as ourselves. So I’d become an idol

  To Monica. She worshipped the part I played:

  How could I be sure that she would love the actor

  If she saw him, off the stage, without his costume and makeup

  And without his stage words. Monica!

  I’ve had your love under false pretences.

  Now, I’m tired of keeping up those pretences,

  But I hope that you’ll find a little love in your heart

  Still, for your father, when you know him

  For what he is, the broken-down actor.

  MONICA. I think I should only love you the better, Father,

  The more I knew about you. I should understand you better.

  There’s nothing I’m afraid of learning about Charles,

  There’s nothing I’m afraid of learning about you.

  CHARLES. I was thinking, Sir — forgive the suspicion —

  From what Monica has told me about your fellow guests,

  Two persons who, she says, claim a very long acquaintance —

  I was thinking that if there’s any question of blackmail,

  I’ve seen something of it in my practice at the bar.

  I’m sure I could help.

  MONICA. Oh Father, do let him.

  CHARLES. At least, I think I know the best man to advise you.

  LORD CLAVERTON. Blackmail? Yes, I’ve heard that word before,

  Not so very long ago. When I asked him what he wanted.

  Oh no, he said, I want nothing from you

  Except your friendship and your company.

  He’s a very rich man. And she’s a rich woman.

  If people merely blackmail you to get your company