THE ELDER STATESMAN

by Eliot · Cluster: Guilt · Conscience · Fate and Free Will

Abstract

Eliot’s last verse drama: the retired public man Lord Claverton is confronted at a rest-home by ghosts of his guilty past (Gomez, Mrs. Carghill) and, through confession and his daughter’s love, finds contrition, self-knowledge and peace before death.

Connections

Archetypes: Ghost Motifs: Ghosts, Memory Themes & Concepts: Guilt, Conscience, Grace and Redemption, Self-Knowledge, Appearance vs Reality, Mortality, Romantic Love Forms & Genres: Verse Drama Characters: Lord Claverton, Monica Claverton-Ferry, Federico Gomez

Testo integrale / Full text

THE ELDER STATESMAN TO MY WIFE To whom I owe the leaping delight That quickens my senses in our wakingtime And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime, The breathing in unison Of lovers … Who think the same thoughts without need of speech And babble the same speech without need of meaning: To you I dedicate this book, to return as best I can With words a little part of what you have given me. The words mean what they say, but some have a further meaning For you and me only. Characters MONICA CLAVERTON-FERRY CHARLES HEMINGTON LAMBERT LORD CLAVERTON FEDERICO GOMEZ MRS. PIGGOTT MRS. CARGHILL MICHAEL CLAVERTON-FERRY

ACT ONE

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	The drawing-room of Lord Claverton’s London house. Four o’clock in the afternoon

ACT TWO

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	The Terrace at Badgley Court. Morning

ACT THREE

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	The Same. Late afternoon of the following day

Act One

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	The drawing-room of LORD CLAVERTON’S London house. Four o’clock in the afternoon.
(didascalia)	[Voices in the hall]
CHARLES	Is your father at home to-day?
MONICA	You’ll see him at tea.
CHARLES	But if I’m not going to have you to myself There’s really no point in my staying to tea.
(didascalia)	[Enter MONICA and CHARLEs carrying parcels]
MONICA	But you must stay to tea. That was understood When you said you could give me the whole afternoon.
CHARLES	But I couldn’t say what I wanted to say to you Over luncheon …
MONICA	That’s your own fault. You should have taken me to some other restaurant Instead of to one where the maître d’hôtel And the waiters all seem to be your intimate friends.
CHARLES	It’s the only place where I’m really well known And get well served. And when you’re with me It must be a perfect lunch.
MONICA	It was a perfect lunch. But I know what men are — they like to show off. That’s masculine vanity, to want to have the waiters All buzzing round you: and it reminds the girl That she’s not the only one who’s been there with him.
CHARLES	Well, tease me if you like. But a man does feel a fool If he takes you to a place where he’s utterly unknown And the waiters all appear to be avoiding his eye.
MONICA	We’re getting off the point …
CHARLES	You’ve got me off my point … I was trying to explain …
MONICA	It’s simply the question Of your staying to tea. As you practically promised.
CHARLES	What you don’t understand is that I have a grievance. On Monday you’re leaving London, with your father: I arranged to be free for the whole afternoon On the plain understanding …
MONICA	That you should stop to tea.
CHARLES	When I said that I was free for the whole afternoon, That meant you were to give me the whole afternoon. I couldn’t say what I wanted to, in a restaurant; And then you took me on a shopping expedition …
MONICA	If you don’t like shopping with me …
CHARLES	Of course I like shopping with you. But how can one talk on a shopping expedition — Except to guess what you want to buy And advise you to buy it.
MONICA	But why not stop to tea?
CHARLES	Very well then, I will stop to tea, But you know I won’t get a chance to talk to you. You know that. Now that your father’s retired He’s at home every day. And you’re leaving London. And because your father simply can’t bear it That any man but he should have you to himself, Before I’ve said two words he’ll come ambling in …
MONICA	You’ve said a good deal more than two words already. And besides, my father doesn’t amble. You’re not at all respectful.
CHARLES	I try to be respectful; But you know that I shan’t have a minute alone with you.
MONICA	You’ve already had several minutes alone with me Which you’ve wasted in wrangling. But seriously, Charles, Father’s sure to be buried in the library And he won’t think of leaving it until he’s called for tea. So why not talk now? Though I know very well What it is you want to say. I’ve heard it all before.
CHARLES	And you’ll hear it again. You think I’m going to tell you Once more, that I’m in love with you. Well, you’re right. But I’ve something else to say that I haven’t said before, That will give you a shock. I believe you love me.
MONICA	Oh, what a dominating man you are! Really, you must imagine you’re a hypnotist.
CHARLES	Is this a time to torment me? But I’m selfish In saying that, because I think — I think you’re tormenting yourself as well.
MONICA	You’re right. I am. Because I am in love with you.
CHARLES	So I was right! The moment I’d said it I was badly frightened. For I didn’t know you loved me — I merely wanted to believe it. And I’ve made you say so! But now that you’ve said so, you must say it again, For I need so much assurance! Are you sure you’re not mistaken?
MONICA	How did this come, Charles? It crept so softly On silent feet, and stood behind my back Quietly, a long time, a long long time Before I felt its presence.
CHARLES	Your words seem to come From very far away. Yet very near. You are changing me And I am changing you.
MONICA	Already How much of me is you?
CHARLES	And how much of me is you? I’m not the same person as a moment ago. What do the words mean now — I and you?
MONICA	In our private world — now we have our private world — The meanings are different. Look! We’re back in the room That we entered only a few minutes ago. Here’s an armchair, there’s the table; There’s the door … and I hear someone coming: It’s Lambert with the tea …
(didascalia)	[Enter LAMBERT with trolley]
MONICA	and I shall say, ‘Lambert, Please let his lordship know that tea is waiting’.
LAMBERT	Yes, Miss Monica.
MONICA	I’m very glad, Charles, That you can stay to tea.
(didascalia)	[Exit LAMBERT]
MONICA	— Now we’re in the public world.
CHARLES	And your father will come. With his calm possessive air And his kindly welcome, which is always a reminder That I mustn’t stay too long, for you belong to him. He seems so placidly to take it for granted That you don’t really care for any company but his!
MONICA	You’re not to assume that anything I’ve said to you Has given you the right to criticise my father. In the first place, you don’t understand him; In the second place, we’re not engaged yet.
CHARLES	Aren’t we? We’re agreed that we’re in love with each other, And, there being no legal impediment Isn’t that enough to constitute an engagement? Aren’t you sure that you want to marry me?
MONICA	Yes, Charles. I’m sure that I want to marry you When I’m free to do so. But by that time You may have changed your mind. Such things have happened.
CHARLES	That won’t happen to me.
(didascalia)	[Knock. Enter LAMBERT]
LAMBERT	Excuse me, Miss Monica. His Lordship said to tell you Not to wait tea for him.
MONICA	Thank you, Lambert.
LAMBERT	He’s busy at the moment. But he won’t be very long.
(didascalia)	[Exit]
CHARLES	Don’t you understand that you’re torturing me? How long will you be imprisoned, alone with your father In that very expensive hotel for convalescents To which you’re taking him? And what after that?
MONICA	There are several good reasons why I should go with him.
CHARLES	Better reasons than for marrying me? What reasons?
MONICA	First, his terror of being alone. In the life he’s led, he’s never had to be alone. And when he’s been at home in the evening, Even when he’s reading, or busy with his papers He needs to have someone else in the room with him, Reading too — or just sitting — someone Not occupied with anything that can’t be interrupted. Someone to make a remark to now and then. And mostly it’s been me.
CHARLES	I know it’s been you. It’s a pity that you haven’t had brothers and sisters To share the burden. Sisters, I should say, For your brother’s never been of any use to you.
MONICA	And never will be of any use to anybody, I’m afraid. Poor Michael! Mother spoilt him And Father was too severe — so they’re always at loggerheads.
CHARLES	But you spoke of several reasons for your going with your father. Is there any better reason than his fear of solitude?
MONICA	The second reason is exactly the opposite: It’s his fear of being exposed to strangers.
CHARLES	But he’s most alive when he’s among people Managing, manœuvring, cajoling or bullying — At all of which he’s a master. Strangers!
MONICA	You don’t understand. It’s one thing meeting people When you’re in authority, with authority’s costume, When the man that people see when they meet you Is not the private man, but the public personage. In politics Father wore a public label. And later, as chairman of public companies, Always his privacy has been preserved.
CHARLES	His privacy has been so well preserved That I’ve sometimes wondered whether there was any … Private self to preserve.
MONICA	There is a private self, Charles. I’m sure of that.
CHARLES	You’ve given two reasons, One the contradiction of the other. Can there be a third?
MONICA	The third reason is this: I’ve only just been given it by Dr. Selby — Father is much iller than he is aware of: It may be, he will never return from Badgley Court. But Selby wants him to have every encouragement — If he’s hopeful, he’s likely to live a little longer. That’s why Selby chose the place. A convalescent home With the atmosphere of an hotel — Nothing about it to suggest the clinic — Everything about it to suggest recovery.
CHARLES	This is your best reason, and the most depressing; For this situation may persist for a long time, And you’ll go on postponing and postponing our marriage.
MONICA	I’m afraid … not a very long time, Charles. It’s almost certain that the winter in Jamaica Will never take place. ‘Make the reservations’ Selby said, ‘as if you were going’. But Badgley Court’s so near your constituency! You can come down at weekends, even when the House is sitting. And you can take me out, if Father can spare me. But he’ll simply love having you to talk to!
CHARLES	I know he’s used to seeing me about.
MONICA	I’ve seen him looking at you. He was thinking of himself When he was your age — when he started like you, With the same hopes, the same ambitions — And of his disappointments.
CHARLES	Is that wistfulness, Compassion, or … envy?
MONICA	Envy is everywhere. Who is without envy? And most people Are unaware or unashamed of being envious. It’s all we can ask if compassion and wistfulness … And tenderness, Charles! are mixed with envy: I do believe that he is fond of you. So you must come often. And Oh, Charles dear —
(didascalia)	[Enter LORD CLAVERTON]
MONICA	You’ve been very long in coming, Father. What have you been doing?
LORD CLAVERTON	Good afternoon, Charles. You might have guessed, Monica, What I’ve been doing. Don’t you recognise this book?
MONICA	It’s your engagement book.
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, I’ve been brooding over it.
MONICA	But what a time for your engagement book! You know what the doctors said: complete relaxation And to think about nothing. Though I know that won’t be easy.
LORD CLAVERTON	That is just what I was doing.
MONICA	Thinking of nothing?
LORD CLAVERTON	Contemplating nothingness. Just remember: Every day, year after year, over my breakfast, I have looked at this book — or one just like it — You know I keep the old ones on a shelf together; I could look in the right book, and find out what I was doing Twenty years ago, to-day, at this hour of the afternoon. If I’ve been looking at this engagement book, to-day, Not over breakfast, but before tea, It’s the empty pages that I’ve been fingering — The first empty pages since I entered Parliament. I used to jot down notes of what I had to say to people: Now I’ve no more to say, and no one to say it to. I’ve been wondering … how many more empty pages?
MONICA	You would soon fill them up if we allowed you to! That’s my business to prevent. You know I’m to protect you From your own restless energy — the inexhaustible Sources of the power that wears out the machine.
LORD CLAVERTON	They’ve dried up, Monica, and you know it. They talk of rest, these doctors, Charles; they tell me to be cautious, To take life easily. Take life easily! It’s like telling a man he mustn’t run for trains When the last thing he wants is to take a train for anywhere! No, I’ve not the slightest longing for the life I’ve left — Only fear of the emptiness before me. If I had the energy to work myself to death How gladly would I face death! But waiting, simply waiting, With no desire to act, yet a loathing of inaction. A fear of the vacuum, and no desire to fill it. It’s just like sitting in an empty waiting room In a railway station on a branch line, After the last train, after all the other passengers Have left, and the booking office is closed And the porters have gone. What am I waiting for In a cold and empty room before an empty grate? For no one. For nothing.
MONICA	Yet you’ve been looking forward To this very time! You know how you grumbled At the farewell banquet, with the tributes from the staff, The presentation, and the speech you had to make And the speeches that you had to listen to! LORD CLAVERTON [pointing to a silver salver, still lying in its case]. I don’t know which impressed me more, the insincerity Of what was said about me, or of my reply — All to thank them for that.                                               Oh the grudging contributions That bought this piece of silver! The inadequate levy That made the Chairman’s Price! And my fellow directors Saying ‘we must put our hands in our pockets To double this collection — it must be something showy’. This would do for visiting cards — if people still left cards And if I was going to have any visitors.
MONICA	Father, you simply want to revel in gloom! You know you’ve retired in a blaze of glory — You’ve read every word about you in the papers.
CHARLES	And the leading articles saying ‘we are confident That his sagacious counsel will long continue To be at the disposal of the Government in power’. And the expectation that your voice will be heard In debate in the Upper House …
LORD CLAVERTON	The established liturgy Of the Press on any conspicuous retirement. My obituary, if I had died in harness, Would have occupied a column and a half With an inset, a portrait taken twenty years ago. In five years’ time, it will be the half of that; In ten years’ time, a paragraph.
CHARLES	That’s the reward Of every public man.
LORD CLAVERTON	Say rather, the exequies Of the failed successes, the successful failures, Who occupy positions that other men covet. When we go, a good many folk are mildly grieved, And our closest associates, the small minority Of those who really understand the place we filled Are inwardly delighted. They won’t want my ghost Walking in the City or sitting in the Lords. And I, who recognise myself as a ghost Shan’t want to be seen there. It makes me smile To think that men should be frightened of ghosts. If they only knew how frightened a ghost can be of men!
(didascalia)	[Knock. Enter LAMBERT]
LAMBERT	Excuse me, my Lord. There’s a gentleman downstairs Is very insistent that he must see you. I told him you never saw anyone, my Lord, But by previous appointment. He said he knew that, So he had brought this note. He said that when you read it You would want to see him. Said you’d be very angry If you heard that he’d gone away without your seeing him.
LORD CLAVERTON	What sort of a person?
LAMBERT	A foreign person By the looks of him. But talks good English. A pleasant-spoken gentleman. LORD CLAVERTON [after reading the note]. I’ll see him in the library. No, stop. I’ve left too many papers about there. I’d better see him here.
LAMBERT	Very good, my Lord. Shall I take the trolley, Miss Monica?
MONICA	Yes, thank you, Lambert.
(didascalia)	[Exit LAMBERT]
CHARLES	I ought to be going.
MONICA	Let us go into the library. And then I’ll see you off.
LORD CLAVERTON	I’m sorry to turn you out of the room like this, But I’ll have to see this man by myself, Monica. I’ve never heard of this Señor Gomez But he comes with a letter of introduction From a man I used to know. I can’t refuse to see him. Though from what I remember of the man who introduces him I expect he wants money. Or to sell me something worthless.
MONICA	You ought not to bother with such people now, Father. If you haven’t got rid of him in twenty minutes I’ll send Lambert to tell you that you have to take a trunk call. Come, Charles. Will you bring my coat?
CHARLES	I’ll say goodbye, sir. And look forward to seeing you both at Badgley Court In a week or two.
(didascalia)	[Enter LAMBERT]
LAMBERT	Mr. Gomez, my Lord.
LORD CLAVERTON	Goodbye, Charles. And please remember That we both want to see you, whenever you can come If you’re in the vicinity. Don’t we, Monica?
MONICA	Yes, Father. (To CHARLES) We both want to see you.
(didascalia)	[Exeunt MONICA and CHARLES]
(didascalia)	[LAMBERT shows in GOMEZ]
LORD CLAVERTON	Good evening, Mr…. Gomez. You’re a friend of Mr. Culverwell?
GOMEZ	We’re as thick as thieves, you might almost say. Don’t you know me, Dick?
LORD CLAVERTON	Fred Culverwell! Why do you come back with another name?
GOMEZ	You’ve changed your name too, since I knew you. When we were up at Oxford, you were plain Dick Ferry. Then, when you married, you took your wife’s name And became Mr. Richard Claverton-Ferry; And finally, Lord Claverton. I’ve followed your example, And done the same, in a modest way. You know, where I live, people do change their names; And besides, my wife’s name is a good deal more normal In my country, than Culverwell — and easier to pronounce.
LORD CLAVERTON	Have you lived out there ever since … you left England?
GOMEZ	Ever since I finished my sentence.
LORD CLAVERTON	What has brought you to England?
GOMEZ	Call it homesickness, Curiosity, restlessness, whatever you like. But I’ve been a pretty hard worker all these years And I thought, now’s the time to take a long holiday, Let’s say a rest cure — that’s what I’ve come for. You see, I’m a widower, like you, Dick. So I’m pretty footloose. Gomez, you see, Is now a highly respected citizen Of a central American republic: San Marco. It’s as hard to become a respected citizen Out there, as it is here. With this qualification: Out there they respect you for rather different reasons.
LORD CLAVERTON	Do you mean that you’ve won respect out there By the sort of activity that lost you respect Here in England?
GOMEZ	Not at all, not at all. I think that was rather an unkind suggestion. I’ve always kept on the right side of the law — And seen that the law turned its right side to me. Sometimes I’ve had to pay pretty heavily; But I learnt by experience whom to pay; And a little money laid out in the right manner In the right places, pays many times over. I assure you it does.
LORD CLAVERTON	In other words You have been engaged in systematic corruption.
GOMEZ	No, Dick, there’s a fault in your logic. How can one corrupt those who are already corrupted? I can swear that I’ve never corrupted anybody. In fact, I’ve never come across an official Innocent enough to be corruptible.
LORD CLAVERTON	It would seem then that most of your business Has been of such a nature that, if carried on in England, It might land you in gaol again?
GOMEZ	That’s true enough, Except for a false inference. I wouldn’t dream Of carrying on such business if I lived in England. I have the same standards of morality As the society in which I find myself. I do nothing in England that you would disapprove of.
LORD CLAVERTON	That’s something, at least, to be thankful for. I trust you’ve no need to engage in forgery.
GOMEZ	Forgery, Dick? An absurd suggestion! Forgery, I can tell you, is a mug’s game. I say that — with conviction. No, forgery, or washing cheques, or anything of that nature, Is certain to be found out sooner or later. And then what happens? You have to move on. That wouldn’t do for me. I’m too domestic. And by the way, I’ve several children, All grown up, doing well for themselves. I wouldn’t allow either of my sons To go into politics. In my country, Dick, Politicians can’t afford mistakes. The prudent ones Always have an aeroplane ready: And keep an account in a bank in Switzerland. The ones who don’t get out in time Find themselves in gaol and not very comfortable, Or before a firing squad. You don’t know what serious politics is like! I said to my boys: ‘Never touch politics. Stay out of politics, and play both parties: What you don’t get from one you may get from the other’. Dick, don’t tell me that there isn’t any whisky in the house?
LORD CLAVERTON	I can provide whisky. [Presses the bell]                                                              But why have you come?
GOMEZ	You’ve asked me that already! To see you, Dick. A natural desire! For you’re the only old friend I can trust.
LORD CLAVERTON	You really trust me? I appreciate the compliment.
GOMEZ	Which you’re sure you deserve. But when I say ‘trust’ …
(didascalia)	[Knock. Enter LAMBERT]
LORD CLAVERTON	Lambert, will you bring in the whisky. And soda.
LAMBERT	Very good, my Lord.
GOMEZ	And some ice.
LAMBERT	Ice? Yes, my Lord.
(didascalia)	[Exit]
GOMEZ	I began to say: when I say ‘trust’ I use the term as experience has taught me. It’s nonsense to talk of trusting people In general. What does that mean? One trusts a man Or a woman — in this respect or that. A won’t let me down in this relationship, B won’t let me down in some other connection. But, as I’ve always said to my boys: ‘When you come to the point where you need to trust someone You must make it worth his while to be trustworthy’.
(didascalia)	[During this LAMBERT enters silently, deposits tray and exit]
LORD CLAVERTON	Won’t you help yourself?
(didascalia)	[GOMEZ does so, liberally]
GOMEZ	And what about you?
LORD CLAVERTON	I don’t take it, thank you.
GOMEZ	A reformed character!
LORD CLAVERTON	I should like to know why you need to trust me.
GOMEZ	That’s perfectly simple. I come back to England After thirty-five years. Can you imagine What it would be like to have been away from home For thirty-five years? I was twenty-five — The same age as you — when I went away, Thousands of miles away, to another climate, To another language, other standards of behaviour, To fabricate for myself another personality And to take another name. Think what that means — To take another name.
(didascalia)	[Gets up and helps himself to whisky]
GOMEZ	But of course you know! Just enough to think you know more than you do. You’ve changed your name twice — by easy stages, And each step was merely a step up the ladder, So you weren’t aware of becoming a different person: But where I changed my name, there was no social ladder. It was jumping a gap — and you can’t jump back again. I parted from myself by a sudden effort, You, so slowly and sweetly, that you’ve never woken up To the fact that Dick Ferry died long ago. I married a girl who didn’t know a word of English, Didn’t want to learn English, wasn’t interested In anything that happened four thousand miles away, Only believed what the parish priest told her. I made my children learn English — it’s useful; I always talk to them in English. But do they think in English? No, they do not. They think in Spanish, but their thoughts are Indian thoughts. O God, Dick, you don’t know what it’s like To be so cut off! Homesickness! Homesickness is a sickly word. You don’t understand such isolation As mine, you think you do …
LORD CLAVERTON	I’m sure I do, I’ve always been alone.
GOMEZ	Oh, loneliness — Everybody knows what that’s like. Your loneliness — so cosy, warm and padded: You’re not isolated — merely insulated. It’s only when you come to see that you have lost yourself That you are quite alone.
LORD CLAVERTON	I’m waiting to hear Why you should need to trust me.
GOMEZ	Perfectly simple. My father’s dead long since — that’s a good thing. My mother — I dare say she’s still alive, But she must be very old. And she must think I’m dead; And as for my married sisters — I don’t suppose their husbands Were ever told the story. They wouldn’t want to see me. No, I need one old friend, a friend whom I can trust — And one who will accept both Culverwell and Gomez — See Culverwell as Gomez — Gomez as Culverwell. I need you, Dick, to give me reality!
LORD CLAVERTON	But according to the description you have given Of trusting people, how do you propose To make it worth my while to be trustworthy?
GOMEZ	It’s done already, Dick; done many years ago: Adoption tried, and grappled to my soul With hoops of steel, and all that sort of thing. We’ll come to that, very soon. Isn’t it strange That there should always have been this bond between us?
LORD CLAVERTON	It has never crossed my mind. Develop the point.
GOMEZ	Well, consider what we were when we went up to Oxford And then what I became under your influence.
LORD CLAVERTON	You cannot attribute your … misfortune to my influence.
GOMEZ	I was just about as different as anyone could be From the sort of men you’d been at school with — I didn’t fit into your set, and I knew it. When you started to take me up at Oxford I’ve no doubt your friends wondered what you found in me — A scholarship boy from an unknown grammar school. I didn’t know either, but I was flattered. Later, I came to understand: you made friends with me Because it flattered you — tickled your love of power To see that I was flattered, and that I admired you. Everyone expected that I should get a First. I suppose your tutor thought you’d be sent down. It went the other way. You stayed the course, at least. I had plenty of time to think things over, later.
LORD CLAVERTON	And what is the conclusion that you came to?
GOMEZ	This is how it worked out, Dick. You liked to play the rake, But you never went too far. There’s a prudent devil Inside you, Dick. He never came to my help.
LORD CLAVERTON	I certainly admit no responsibility, None whatever, for what happened to you later.
GOMEZ	You led me on at Oxford, and left me to it. And so it came about that I was sent down With the consequences which you remember: A miserable clerkship — which your father found for me, And expensive tastes — which you had fostered in me, And, equally unfortunate, a talent for penmanship. Hence, as you have just reminded me Defalcation and forgery. And then my stretch Which gave me time to think it all out.
LORD CLAVERTON	That’s the second time you have mentioned your reflections. But there’s just one thing you seem to have forgotten: I came to your assistance when you were released.
GOMEZ	Yes, and paid my passage out. I know the reason: You wanted to get rid of me. I shall tell you why presently. Now let’s look for a moment at your life history. You had plenty of money, and you made a good marriage — Or so it seemed — and with your father’s money And your wife’s family influence, you got on in politics. Shall we say that you did very well by yourself? Though not, I suspect, as well as you had hoped.
LORD CLAVERTON	I was never accused of making a mistake.
GOMEZ	No, in England mistakes are anonymous Because the man who accepts responsibility Isn’t the man who made the mistake. That’s your convention. Or if it’s known you made it You simply get moved to another post Where at least you can’t make quite the same mistake. At the worst, you go into opposition And let the other people make mistakes Until your own have been more or less forgotten. I dare say you did make some mistake, Dick … That would account for your leaving politics And taking a conspicuous job in the City Where the Government could always consult you But of course didn’t have to take your advice … I’ve made a point, you see, of following your career.
LORD CLAVERTON	I am touched by your interest.
GOMEZ	I have a gift for friendship. I rejoiced in your success. But one thing has puzzled me. You were given a ministry before you were fifty: That should have led you to the very top! And yet you withdrew from the world of politics And went into the City. Director of a bank And chairman of companies. You looked the part — Cut out to be an impressive figurehead. But again, you’ve retired at sixty. Why at sixty?
LORD CLAVERTON	Knowing as much about me as you do You must have read that I retired at the insistence of my doctors.
GOMEZ	Oh yes, the usual euphemism. And yet I wonder. It is surprising: You should have been good for another five years At least. Why did they let you retire?
LORD CLAVERTON	If you want to know, I had had a stroke. And I might have another.
GOMEZ	Yes. You might have another. But I wonder what brought about this … stroke; And I wonder whether you’re the great economist And financial wizard that you’re supposed to be. And I’ve learned something of other vicissitudes. Dick, I was very very sorry when I heard That your marriage had not been altogether happy. And as for your son — from what I’ve heard about him, He’s followed your undergraduate career Without the protection of that prudent devil Of yours, to tell him not to go too far. Well, now, I’m beginning to be thirsty again.
(didascalia)	[Pours himself whisky]
LORD CLAVERTON	An interesting historical epitome. Though I cannot accept it as altogether accurate. The only thing I find surprising In the respected citizen of San Marco Is that in the midst of the engrossing business Of the nature of which dark hints have been given, He’s informed himself so carefully about my career.
GOMEZ	I don’t propose to give you a detailed account Of my own career. I’ve been very successful. What would have happened to me, I wonder, If I had never met you? I should have got my First, And I might have become the history master In a school like that from which I went to Oxford. As it is, I’m somebody — a more important man In San Marco than I should ever have been in England.
LORD CLAVERTON	So, as you consider yourself a success …
GOMEZ	A worldly success, Dick. In another sense We’re both of us failures. But even so, I’d rather be my kind of failure than yours.
LORD CLAVERTON	And what do you call failure?
GOMEZ	What do I call failure? The worst kind of failure, in my opinion, Is the man who has to keep on pretending to himself That he’s a success — the man who in the morning Has to make up his face before he looks in the mirror.
LORD CLAVERTON	Isn’t that the kind of pretence that you’re maintaining In trying to persuade me of your … worldly success?
GOMEZ	No, because I know the value of the coinage I pay myself in.
LORD CLAVERTON	Indeed! How interesting! I still don’t know why you’ve come to see me Or what you mean by saying you can trust me.
GOMEZ	Dick, do you remember the moonlight night We drove back to Oxford? You were driving.
LORD CLAVERTON	That happened several times.
GOMEZ	One time in particular. You know quite well to which occasion I’m referring — A summer night of moonlight and shadows — The night you ran over the old man in the road.
LORD CLAVERTON	You said I ran over an old man in the road.
GOMEZ	You knew it too. If you had been surprised When I said ‘Dick, you’ve run over somebody’ Wouldn’t you have shown it, if only for a second? You never lifted your foot from the accelerator.
LORD CLAVERTON	We were in a hurry.
GOMEZ	More than in a hurry. You didn’t want it to be known where we’d been. The girls who were with us (what were their names? I’ve completely forgotten them) you didn’t want them To be called to give evidence. You just couldn’t face it. Do you see now, Dick, why I say I can trust you?
LORD CLAVERTON	If you think that this story would interest the public Why not sell your version to a Sunday newspaper?
GOMEZ	My dear Dick, what a preposterous suggestion! Who’s going to accept the unsupported statement Of Federico Gomez of San Marco About something that happened so many years ago? What damages you’d get! The Press wouldn’t look at it. Besides, you can’t think I’ve any desire To appear in public as Frederick Culverwell? No, Dick, your secret’s safe with me. Of course, I might give it to a few friends, in confidence. It might even reach the ears of some of your acquaintance — But you’d never know to whom I’d told it, Or who knew the story and who didn’t. I promise you. Rely upon me as the soul of discretion.
LORD CLAVERTON	What do you want then? Do you need money?
GOMEZ	My dear chap, you are obtuse! I said: ‘Your secret is safe with me’, And then you … well, I’d never have believed That you would accuse an old friend of … blackmail! On the contrary, I dare say I could buy you out Several times over. San Marco’s a good place To make money in — though not to keep it in. My investments — not all in my own name either — Are pretty well spread. For the matter of that, My current account in Stockholm or Zürich Would keep me in comfort for the rest of my life. Really, Dick, you owe me an apology. Blackmail! On the contrary Any time you’re in a tight corner My entire resources are at your disposal. You were a generous friend to me once As you pointedly reminded me a moment ago. Now it’s my turn, perhaps, to do you a kindness.
(didascalia)	[Enter LAMBERT]
LAMBERT	Excuse me, my Lord, but Miss Monica asked me To remind you there’s a trunk call coming through for you In five minutes’ time.
LORD CLAVERTON	I’ll be ready to take it.
(didascalia)	[Exit LAMBERT]
GOMEZ	Ah, the pre-arranged interruption To terminate the unwelcome intrusion Of the visitor in financial distress. Well, I shan’t keep you long, though I dare say your caller Could hang on for another quarter of an hour.
LORD CLAVERTON	Before you go — what is it that you want?
GOMEZ	I’ve been trying to make clear that I only want your friendship! Just as it used to be in the old days When you taught me expensive tastes. Now it’s my turn. I can have cigars sent direct to you from Cuba If your doctors allow you a smoke now and then. I’m a lonely man, Dick, with a craving for affection. All I want is as much of your company, So long as I stay here, as I can get. And the more I get, the longer I may stay.
LORD CLAVERTON	This is preposterous! Do you call it friendship to impose your company On a man by threats? Why keep up the pretence?
GOMEZ	Threats, Dick! How can you speak of threats? It’s most unkind of you. My only aim Is to renew our friendship. Don’t you understand?
LORD CLAVERTON	I see that when I gave you my friendship So many years ago, I only gained in return Your envy, spite and hatred. That is why you attribute Your downfall to me. But how was I responsible? We were the same age. You were a free moral agent. You pretend that I taught you expensive tastes: If you had not had those tastes already You would hardly have welcomed my companionship.
GOMEZ	Neatly argued, and almost convincing: Don’t you wish you could believe it?
LORD CLAVERTON	And what if I decline To give you the pleasure of my company?
GOMEZ	Oh, I can wait, Dick. You’ll relent at last. You’ll come to feel easier when I’m with you Than when I’m out of sight. You’ll be afraid of whispers, The reflection in the mirror of the face behind you. The ambiguous smile, the distant salutation, The sudden silence when you enter the smoking room.                                                                                      Don’t forget, Dick: You didn’t stop! Well, I’d better be going. I hope I haven’t outstayed my welcome? Your telephone pal may be getting impatient. I’ll see you soon again.
LORD CLAVERTON	Not very soon, I think. I am going away.
GOMEZ	So I’ve been informed. I have friends in the press — if not in the peerage. Goodbye for the present. It’s been an elixir To see you again, and assure myself That we can begin just where we left off.
(didascalia)	[Exit GOMEZ]
(didascalia)	[LORD CLAVERTON sits for a few minutes brooding. A knock. Enter MONICA.]
MONICA	Who was it, Father?
LORD CLAVERTON	A man I used to know.
MONICA	Oh, so you knew him?
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes. He’d changed his name.
MONICA	Then I suppose he wanted money?
LORD CLAVERTON	No, he didn’t want money.
MONICA	Father, this interview has worn you out. You must go and rest now, before dinner.
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, I’ll go and rest now. I wish Charles was dining with us. I wish we were having a dinner party.
MONICA	Father, can’t you bear to be alone with me? If you can’t bear to dine alone with me tonight, What will it be like at Badgley Court? CURTAIN

Act Two

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	The terrace of Badgley Court. A bright sunny morning, several days later. Enter LORD CLAVERTON and MONICA.
MONICA	Well, so far, it’s better than you expected, Isn’t it, Father? They’ve let us alone; The people in the dining-room show no curiosity; The beds are comfortable, the hot water is hot, They give us a very tolerable breakfast; And the chambermaid really is a chambermaid: For when I asked about morning coffee She said ‘I’m not the one for elevens’s, That’s Nurse’s business’.
LORD CLAVERTON	So far, so good. I’ll feel more confidence after a fortnight — After fourteen days of people not staring Or offering picture papers, or wanting a fourth at bridge; Still, I’ll admit to a feeling of contentment Already. I only hope that it will last — The sense of wellbeing! It’s often with us When we are young, but then it’s not noticed; And by the time one has grown to consciousness It comes less often.                                  I hope this benignant sunshine And warmth will last for a few days more. But this early summer, that’s hardly seasonable, Is so often a harbinger of frost on the fruit trees.
MONICA	Oh, let’s make the most of this weather while it lasts. I never remember you as other than occupied With anxieties from which you were longing to escape; Now I want to see you learning to enjoy yourself!
LORD CLAVERTON	Perhaps I’ve never really enjoyed living As much as most people. At least, as they seem to do Without knowing that they enjoy it. Whereas I’ve often known That I didn’t enjoy it. Some dissatisfaction With myself, I suspect, very deep within myself Has impelled me all my life to find justification Not so much to the world — first of all to myself. What is this self inside us, this silent observer, Severe and speechless critic, who can terrorise us And urge us on to futile activity, And in the end, judge us still more severely For the errors into which his own reproaches drove us?
MONICA	You admit that at the moment you find life pleasant, That it really does seem quiet here and restful. Even the matron, though she looks rather dominating, Has left us alone.
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, but remember What she said. She said: ‘I’m going to leave you alone! You want perfect peace: that’s what Badgley Court is for.’ I thought that very ominous. When people talk like that It indicates a latent desire to interfere With the privacy of others, which is certain to explode.
MONICA	Hush, Father. I see her coming from the house. Take your newspaper and start reading to me.
(didascalia)	[Enter MRS. PIGGOTT]
MRS	PIGGOTT. Good morning, Lord Claverton! Good morning, Miss Claverton! Isn’t this a glorious morning! I’m afraid you’ll think I’ve been neglecting you; So I’ve come to apologise and explain. I’ve been in such a rush, these last few days, And I thought, ‘Lord Claverton will understand My not coming in directly after breakfast: He’s led a busy life, too.’ But I hope you’re happy? Is there anything you need that hasn’t been provided? All you have to do is to make your wants known. Just ring through to my office. If I’m not there My secretary will be — Miss Timmins. She’d be overjoyed to have the privilege of helping you!
MONICA	You’re very kind … Oh, I’m sorry, We don’t know how we ought to address you. Do we call you ‘Matron’?
MRS	PIGGOTT.                    Oh no, not ‘Matron’! Of course, I am a matron in a sense — No, I don’t simply mean that I’m a married woman — A widow in fact. But I was a Trained Nurse, And of course I’ve always lived in what you might call A medical milieu. My father was a specialist In pharmacology. And my husband Was a distinguished surgeon. Do you know, I fell in love with him During an appendicitis operation! I was a theatre nurse. But you mustn’t call me ‘Matron’ At Badgley Court. You see, we’ve studied to avoid Anything like a nursing-home atmosphere. We don’t want our guests to think of themselves as ill, Though we never have guests who are perfectly well — Except when they come like you, Miss Claverton.
MONICA	Claverton-Ferry. Or Ferry: it’s shorter.
MRS	PIGGOTT. So sorry. Miss Claverton-Ferry. I’m Mrs. Piggott. Just call me Mrs. Piggott. It’s a short and simple name And easy to remember. But, as I was saying, Guests in perfect health are exceptional Though we never accept any guest who’s incurable. You know, we’ve been deluged with applications From people who want to come here to die! We never accept them. Nor do we accept Any guest who looks incurable — We make that stipulation to all the doctors Who send people here. When you go in to lunch Just take a glance around the dining-room: Nobody looks ill! They’re all convalescents, Or resting, like you. So you’ll remember Always to call me Mrs. Piggott, won’t you?
MONICA	Yes, Mrs. Piggott, but please tell me one thing. We haven’t seen her yet, but the chambermaid Referred to a nurse. When we see her Do we address her as ‘Nurse’?
MRS	PIGGOTT.                              Oh yes, that’s different. She is a real nurse, you know, fully qualified. Our system is very delicately balanced: For me to be simply ‘Mrs. Piggott’ Reassures the guests in one respect; And calling our nurses ‘Nurse’ reassures them In another respect.
LORD CLAVERTON	I follow you perfectly.
MRS	PIGGOTT. And now I must fly. I’ve so much on my hands! But before I go, just let me tuck you up … You must be very careful at this time of year; This early warm weather can be very treacherous. There, now you look more comfy. Don’t let him stay out late In the afternoon‚ Miss Claverton-Ferry. And remember, when you want to be very quiet There’s the Silence Room. With a television set. It’s popular in the evenings. But not too crowded.
(didascalia)	[Exit]
LORD CLAVERTON	Much as I had feared. But I’m not going to say Nothing could be worse. Where there’s a Mrs. Piggott There may be, among the guests, something worse than Mrs. Piggott.
MONICA	Let’s hope this was merely the concoction Which she decants for every newcomer. Perhaps after what she considers proper courtesies, She will leave us alone.
(didascalia)	[Re-enter MRS. PIGGOTT]
MRS	PIGGOTT.             I really am neglectful! Miss Claverton-Ferry, I ought to tell you more About the amenities which Badgley Court Can offer to guests of the younger generation. When there are enough young people among us We dance in the evening. At the moment there’s no dancing, And it’s still too early for the bathing pool. But several of our guests are keen on tennis, And of course there’s always croquet. But I don’t advise croquet Until you know enough about the other guests To know whom not to play with. I’ll mention no names, But there are one or two who don’t like being beaten, And that spoils any sport, in my opinion.
MONICA	Thank you, Mrs. Piggott. But I’m very fond of walking And I’m told there are very good walks in this neighbourhood.
MRS	PIGGOTT. There are indeed. I can lend you a map. There are lovely walks, on the shore or in the hills, Quite away from the motor roads. You must learn the best walks. I won’t apologise for the lack of excitement: After all, peace and quiet is our raison d’être. Now I’ll leave you to enjoy it.
(didascalia)	[Exit]
MONICA	I hope she won’t remember anything else.
LORD CLAVERTON	She’ll come back to tell us more about the peace and quiet.
MONICA	I don’t believe she’ll be bothering us again: I could see from her expression when she left That she thought she’d done her duty by us for to-day. I’m going to prowl about the grounds. Don’t look so alarmed! If you spy any guest who seems to be stalking you Put your newspaper over your face And pretend you’re pretending to be asleep. If they think you are asleep they’ll do something to wake you, But if they see you’re shamming they’ll have to take the hint.
(didascalia)	[Exit]
MONICA	A moment later. LORD CLAVERTON spreads his newspaper over his face. Enter MRS. CARGHILL. She sits in a deckchair nearby, composes herself and takes out her knitting.
MRS	CARGHILL [after a pause]. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I always sit here. It’s the sunniest and most sheltered corner, And none of the other guests have discovered it. It was clever of you to find it so quickly. What made you choose it? LORD CLAVERTON [throwing down newspaper]. My daughter chose it. She noticed that it seemed to offer the advantages Which you have just mentioned. I am glad you can confirm them.
MRS	CARGHILL. Oh, so that is your daughter — that very charming girl? And obviously devoted to her father. I was watching you both in the dining-room last night. You are the great Lord Claverton, aren’t you? Somebody said you were coming here — It’s been the topic of conversation. But I couldn’t believe that it would really happen! And now I’m sitting here talking to you. Dear me, it’s astonishing, after all these years; And you don’t even recognise me! I’d know you anywhere. But then, we’ve all seen your portrait in the papers So often. And everybody knows you. But still, I wish you could have paid me that compliment, Richard.
LORD CLAVERTON	What!
MRS	CARGHILL.                Don’t you know me yet?
LORD CLAVERTON	I’m afraid not.
MRS	CARGHILL. There were the three of us — Effie‚ Maudie and me. That day we spent on the river — I’ve never forgotten it — The turning point of all my life! Now whatever were the names of those friends of yours And which one was it invited us to lunch? I declare, I’ve utterly forgotten their names. And you gave us lunch — I’ve forgotten what hotel — But such a good lunch — and we all went in a punt On the river — and we had a tea basket With some lovely little cakes — I’ve forgotten what you called them, And you made me try to punt, and I got soaking wet And nearly dropped the punt pole, and you all laughed at me. Don’t you remember?
LORD CLAVERTON	Pray continue. The more you remind me of, the better I’ll remember.
MRS	CARGHILL. And the three of us talked you over afterwards — Effie and Maud and I. What a time ago it seems! It’s surprising I remember it all so clearly. You attracted me, you know, at the very first meeting — I can’t think why, but it’s the way things happen. I said ‘there’s a man I could follow round the world!’ But Effie it was — you know, Effie was very shrewd — Effie it was said ‘you’d be throwing yourself away. Mark my words’ Effie said, ‘if you chose to follow that man He’d give you the slip: he’s not to be trusted. That man is hollow’. That’s what she said. Or did she say ‘yellow’? I’m not quite sure. You do remember now, don’t you, Richard?
LORD CLAVERTON	Not the conversation you have just repeated. That is new to me. But I do remember you.
MRS	CARGHILL. Time has wrought sad changes in me, Richard. I was very lovely once. So you thought, And others thought so too. But as you remember, Please, Richard, just repeat my name — just once: The name by which you knew me. It would give me such a thrill To hear you speak my name once more.
LORD CLAVERTON	Your name was Maisie Batterson.
MRS	CARGHILL. Oh, Richard, you’re only saying that to tease me. You know I meant my stage name. The name by which you knew me.
LORD CLAVERTON	Well, then, Maisie Montjoy.
MRS	CARGHILL.                                                   Yes. Maisie Montjoy. I was Maisie Montjoy once. And you didn’t recognise me.
LORD CLAVERTON	You’ve changed your name, no doubt. And I’ve changed mine. Your name now and here …
MRS	CARGHILL.                           Is Mrs. John Carghill.
LORD CLAVERTON	You married, I suppose, many years ago?
MRS	CARGHILL. Many years ago, the first time. That didn’t last long. People sometimes say: ‘Make one mistake in love, You’re more than likely to make another’. How true that is! Algy was a weakling, But simple he was — not sly and slippery. Then I married Mr. Carghill. Twenty years older Than me, he was. Just what I needed.
LORD CLAVERTON	Is he still living?
MRS	CARGHILL.                                 He had a weak heart. And he worked too hard. Have you never heard Of Carghill Equipments? They make office furniture.
LORD CLAVERTON	I’ve never had to deal with questions of equipment. I trust that the business was very successful … I mean, that he left you comfortably provided for?
MRS	CARGHILL. Well, Richard, my doctor could hardly have sent me here If I wasn’t well off. Yes, I’m provided for. But isn’t it strange that you and I Should meet here at last? Here, of all places!
LORD CLAVERTON	Why not, of all places? What I don’t understand Is why you should take the first opportunity, Finding me here, to revive old memories Which I should have thought we both preferred to leave buried.
MRS	CARGHILL. There you’re wrong, Richard. Effie always said — What a clever girl she was! — ‘he doesn’t understand women. Any woman who trusted him would soon find that out’. A man may prefer to forget all the women He has loved. But a woman doesn’t want to forget A single one of her admirers. Why, even a faithless lover Is still, in her memory, a kind of testimonial. Men live by forgetting — women live on memories. Besides a woman has nothing to be ashamed of: A man is always trying to forget His own shabby behaviour.
LORD CLAVERTON	But we’d settled our account. What harm was done? I learned my lesson And you learned yours, if you needed the lesson.
MRS	CARGHILL. You refuse to believe that I was really in love with you! Well, it’s natural that you shouldn’t want to believe it. But you think, or try to think, that if I’d really suffered I shouldn’t want to let you know who I am, I shouldn’t want to come and talk about the past. You’re wrong, you know. It’s both pain and pleasure To talk about the past — about you and me. These memories are painful — but I cherish them.
LORD CLAVERTON	If you had really been broken-hearted I can’t see how you could have acted as you did.
MRS	CARGHILL. Who can say whether a heart’s been broken Once it’s been repaired? But I know what you mean. You mean that I would never have started an action For breach of promise, if I’d really cared for you. What sentimental nonsense! One starts an action Simply because one must do something. Well, perhaps I shouldn’t have settled out of court. My lawyer said: ‘I advise you to accept’, ‘Because Mr. Ferry will be standing for Parliament: His father has political ambitions for him. If he’s lost a breach of promise suit Some people won’t want to appear as his supporters.’ He said: ‘What his lawyers are offering in settlement Is twice as much as I think you’d be awarded.’ Effie was against it — she wanted you exposed. But I gave way. I didn’t want to ruin you. If I’d carried on, it might have ended your career, And then you wouldn’t have become Lord Claverton. So perhaps I laid the foundation of your fortunes!
LORD CLAVERTON	And perhaps at the same time of your own? I seem to remember, it was only a year or so Before your name appeared in very large letters In Shaftesbury Avenue.
MRS	CARGHILL.                 Yes, I had my art. Don’t you remember what a hit I made With a number called It’s Not Too Late For You To Love Me? I couldn’t have put the feeling into it I did But for what I’d gone through. Did you hear me sing it?
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, I heard you sing it.
MRS	CARGHILL.                                                And what did you feel?
LORD CLAVERTON	Nothing at all. I remember my surprise At finding that I felt nothing at all. I thought, perhaps, what a lucky escape It had been, for both of us.
MRS	CARGHILL.                      That ‘both of us’ Was an afterthought, Richard. A lucky escape You thought, for you. You felt no embarrassment?
LORD CLAVERTON	Why should I feel embarrassment? My conscience was clear. A brief infatuation, ended in the only way possible To our mutual satisfaction.
MRS	CARGHILL.                       Your conscience was clear. I’ve very seldom heard people mention their consciences Except to observe that their consciences were clear. You got out of a tangle for a large cash payment And no publicity. So your conscience was clear. At bottom, I believe you’re still the same silly Richard You always were. You wanted to pose As a man of the world. And now you’re posing As what? I presume, as an elder statesman; And the difference between being an elder statesman And posing successfully as an elder statesman Is practically negligible. And you look the part. Whatever part you’ve played, I must say you’ve always looked it.
LORD CLAVERTON	I’ve no longer any part to play, Maisie.
MRS	CARGHILL. There’ll always be some sort of part for you Right to the end. You’ll still be playing a part In your obituary, whoever writes it.
LORD CLAVERTON	Considering how long ago it was when you knew me And considering the brevity of our acquaintance, You’re surprisingly confident, I must say, About your understanding of my character.
MRS	CARGHILL. I’ve followed your progress year by year, Richard. And although it’s true that our acquaintance was brief, Our relations were intense enough, I think, To have given me one or two insights into you. No, Richard, don’t imagine that I’m still in love with you; And you needn’t think I idolise your memory. It’s simply that I feel that we belong together … Now, don’t get alarmed. But you touched my soul — Pawed it, perhaps, and the touch still lingers. And I’ve touched yours. It’s frightening to think that we’re still together And more frightening to think that we may always be together. There’s a phrase I seem to remember reading somewhere: Where their fires are not quenched. Do you know what I do? I read your letters every night.
LORD CLAVERTON	My letters!
MRS	CARGHILL. Have you forgotten that you wrote me letters? Oh, not very many. Only a few worth keeping. Only a few. But very beautiful! It was Effie said, when the break came, ‘They’ll be worth a fortune to you, Maisie.’ They would have figured at the trial, I suppose, If there had been a trial. Don’t you remember them?
LORD CLAVERTON	Vaguely. Were they very passionate?
MRS	CARGHILL. They were very loving. Would you like to read them? I’m afraid I can’t show you the originals; They’re in my lawyer’s safe. But I have photostats Which are quite as good, I’m told. And I like to read them In your own handwriting.
LORD CLAVERTON	And have you shown these letters To many people?
MRS	CARGHILL.       Only a few friends. Effie said: ‘If he becomes a famous man And you should be in want, you could have these letters auctioned.’ Yes, I’ll bring the photostats tomorrow morning, And read them to you.                                           — Oh, there’s Mrs. Piggott! She’s bearing down on us. Isn’t she frightful! She never stops talking. Can you bear it? If I go at once, perhaps she’ll take the hint And leave us alone tomorrow.                                                    Good morning, Mrs. Piggott! Isn’t it a glorious morning!
(didascalia)	[Enter MRS. PIGGOTT]
MRS	PIGGOTT. Good morning, Mrs. Carghill!
MRS	CARGHILL.                                                   Dear Mrs. Piggott! It seems to me that you never sit still: You simply sacrifice yourself for us.
MRS	PIGGOTT. It’s the breath of life to me, Mrs. Carghill, Attending to my guests. I like to feel they need me!
MRS	CARGHILL. You do look after us well, Mrs. Piggott: You’re so considerate — and so understanding.
MRS	PIGGOTT. But I ought to introduce you. You’ve been talking to Lord Claverton, The famous Lord Claverton. This is Mrs. Carghill. Two of our very nicest guests! I just came to see that Lord Claverton was comfortable: We can’t allow him to tire himself with talking. What he needs is rest! You’re not going, Mrs. Carghill?
MRS	CARGHILL. Oh, I knew that Lord Claverton had come for a rest cure, And it struck me that he might find it a strain To have to cope with both of us at once. Besides, I ought to do my breathing exercises.
(didascalia)	[Exit]
MRS	PIGGOTT. As a matter of fact, I flew to your rescue (That’s why I’ve brought your morning tipple myself Instead of leaving it, as usual, to Nurse) When I saw that Mrs. Carghill had caught you. You wouldn’t know that name, but you might remember her As Maisie Montjoy in revue. She was well-known at one time. I’m afraid her name Means nothing at all to the younger generation, But you and I should remember her, Lord Claverton. That tune she was humming, It’s Not Too Late For You To Love Me, Everybody was singing it once. A charming person, I dare say, but not quite your sort or mine. I suspected that she wanted to meet you, so I thought That I’d take the first opportunity of hinting — Tactfully, of course — that you should not be disturbed. Well, she’s gone now. If she bothers you again Just let me know. I’m afraid it’s the penalty Of being famous.
(didascalia)	[Enter Monica]
MRS	Oh, Miss Claverton-Ferry! I didn’t see you coming. Now I must fly.
(didascalia)	[Exit]
MONICA	I saw Mrs. Piggott bothering you again So I hurried to your rescue. You look tired, Father. She ought to know better. But I’m all the more distressed Because I have some … not very good news for you.
LORD CLAVERTON	Oh, indeed. What’s the matter?
MONICA	I didn’t get far. I met Michael in the drive. He says he must see you. I’m afraid that something unpleasant has happened.
LORD CLAVERTON	Was he driving his car?
MONICA	No, he was walking.
LORD CLAVERTON	I hope he’s not had another accident. You know, after that last escapade of his, I’ve lived in terror of his running over somebody.
MONICA	Why, Father, should you be afraid of that? This shows how bad your nerves have been. He only ran into a tree.
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, a tree. It might have been a man. But it can’t be that, Or he wouldn’t be at large. Perhaps he’s in trouble With some woman or other. I’m sure he has friends Whom he wouldn’t care for you or me to know about.
MONICA	It’s probably money.
LORD CLAVERTON	If it’s only debts Once more, I expect I can put up with it. But where is he?
MONICA	I told him he must wait in the garden Until I had prepared you. I’ve made him understand That the doctors want you to be free from worry. He won’t make a scene. But I can see he’s frightened. And you know what Michael is like when he’s frightened. He’s apt to be sullen and quick to take offence. So I hope you’ll be patient.
LORD CLAVERTON	Well then, fetch him. Let’s get this over.
MONICA	[calls] Michael!
(didascalia)	[Enter MICHAEL]
LORD CLAVERTON	Good morning, Michael.
MICHAEL	Good morning, Father.
(didascalia)	[A pause]
MICHAEL	What a lovely day! I’m glad you’re here, to enjoy such weather.
LORD CLAVERTON	You’re glad I’m here? Did you drive down from London?
MICHAEL	I drove down last night. I’m staying at a pub About two miles from here. Not a bad little place.
LORD CLAVERTON	Why are you staying there? I shouldn’t have thought It would be the sort of place that you’d choose for a holiday.
MICHAEL	Well, this isn’t a holiday exactly. But this hotel was very well recommended. Good cooking, for a country inn. And not at all expensive.
LORD CLAVERTON	You don’t normally consider that a recommendation. Are you staying there long? For the whole of this holiday?
MICHAEL	Well, this isn’t a holiday, exactly. Oh. I said that before, didn’t I?
MONICA	I wish you’d stop being so polite to each other. Michael, you know what you’ve come to ask of Father And Father knows that you want something from him. Perhaps you’ll get to the point if I leave you together.
(didascalia)	[Exit]
MICHAEL	You know, it’s awfully hard to explain things to you. You’ve always made up your mind that I was to blame Before you knew the facts. The first thing I remember Is being blamed for something I hadn’t done. I never got over that. If you always blame a person It’s natural he should end by getting into trouble.
LORD CLAVERTON	You started pretty early getting into trouble, When you were expelled from your prep school for stealing. But come to the point. You’re in trouble again. We’ll ignore, if you please, the question of blame: Which will spare you the necessity of blaming someone else. Just tell me what’s happened.
MICHAEL	Well, I’ve lost my job.
LORD CLAVERTON	The position that Sir Alfred Walter made for you.
MICHAEL	I’d stuck it for two years. And deadly dull it was.
LORD CLAVERTON	Every job is dull, nine-tenths of the time …
MICHAEL	I need something much more stimulating.
LORD CLAVERTON	Well?
MICHAEL	I want to find some more speculative business.
LORD CLAVERTON	I dare say you’ve tried a little private speculation.
MICHAEL	Several of my friends gave me excellent tips. They always came off — the tips I didn’t take.
LORD CLAVERTON	And the ones you did take?
MICHAEL	Not so well, for some reason. The fact is, I needed a good deal more capital To make anything of it. If I could have borrowed more I might have pulled it off.
LORD CLAVERTON	Borrowed? From whom? Not … from the firm?
MICHAEL	I went to a lender, A man whom a friend of mine recommended. He gave me good terms, on the strength of my name: The only good the name has ever done me.
LORD CLAVERTON	On the strength of your name. And what do you call good terms?
MICHAEL	I’d nothing at all to pay for two years: The interest was just added on to the capital.
LORD CLAVERTON	And how long ago was that?
MICHAEL	Nearly two years. Time passes pretty quickly, when you’re in debt.
LORD CLAVERTON	And have you other debts?
MICHAEL	Oh, ordinary debts: My tailor’s bill, for instance.
LORD CLAVERTON	I expected that. It was just the same at Oxford.
MICHAEL	It’s their own fault. They won’t send in their bills, and then I forget them. It’s being your son that gets me into debt. Just because of your name they insist on giving credit.
LORD CLAVERTON	And your debts: are they the cause of your being discharged?
MICHAEL	Well, partly. Sir Alfred did come to hear about it, And so he pretended to be very shocked. Said he couldn’t retain any man on his staff Who’d taken to gambling. Called me a gambler! Said he’d communicate with you about it.
LORD CLAVERTON	That accounts for your coming down here so precipitately — In order to let me have your version first. I dare say Sir Alfred’s will be rather different. And what else did he say?
MICHAEL	He took the usual line, Just like the headmaster. And my tutor at Oxford. ‘Not what we expected from the son of your father’ And that sort of thing. It’s for your sake, he says, That he wants to keep things quiet. I can tell you, it’s no joke Being the son of a famous public man. You don’t know what I suffered, working in that office. In the first place, they all knew the job had been made for me Because I was your son. They considered me superfluous; They knew I couldn’t be living on my pay; They had a lot of fun with me — sometimes they’d pretend That I was overworked, when I’d nothing to do. Even the office boys began to sneer at me. I wonder I stood it as long as I did.
LORD CLAVERTON	And does this bring us to the end of the list of your shortcomings? Or did Sir Alfred make other unflattering criticisms?
MICHAEL	Well, there was one thing he brought up against me, That I’d been too familiar with one of the girls. He assumed it had gone a good deal further than it had.
LORD CLAVERTON	Perhaps it had gone further than you’re willing to admit.
MICHAEL	Well, after all, she was the only one Who was at all nice to me. She wasn’t exciting. But it served to pass the time. It would never have happened If only I’d been given some interesting work!
LORD CLAVERTON	And what do you now propose to do with yourself?
MICHAEL	I want to go abroad.
LORD CLAVERTON	You want to go abroad? Well, that’s not a bad idea. A few years out of England In one of the Dominions, might set you on your feet. I have connections, or at least correspondents Almost everywhere. Australia — no. The men I know there are all in the cities: An outdoor life would suit you better. How would you like to go to Western Canada? Or what about sheep farming in New Zealand?
MICHAEL	Sheep farming? Good Lord, no. That’s not my idea. I want to make money. I want to be somebody on my own account.
LORD CLAVERTON	But what do you want to do? Where do you want to go? What kind of a life do you think you want?
MICHAEL	I simply want to lead a life of my own, According to my own ideas of good and bad, Of right and wrong. I want to go far away To some country where no one has heard the name of Claverton; Or where, if I took a different name — and I might choose to — No one would know or care what my name had been.
LORD CLAVERTON	So you are ready to repudiate your family, To throw away the whole of your inheritance?
MICHAEL	What is my inheritance? As for your title, I know why you took it. And Mother knew. First, because it gave you the opportunity Of retiring from politics, not without dignity, Being no longer wanted. And you wished to be Lord Claverton Also, to hold your own with Mother’s family — To lord it over them, in fact. Oh, I’ve no doubt That the thought of passing on your name and title To a son, was gratifying. But it wasn’t for my sake! I was just your son — that is to say, A kind of prolongation of your existence, A representative carrying on business in your absence. Why should I thank you for imposing this upon me? And what satisfaction, I wonder, will it give you In the grave? If you’re still conscious after death, I bet it will be a surprised state of consciousness. Poor ghost! reckoning up its profit and loss And wondering why it bothered about such trifles.
LORD CLAVERTON	So you want me to help you to escape from your father!
MICHAEL	And to help my father to be rid of me. You simply don’t know how very much pleasanter You will find life become, once I’m out of the country. What I’d like is a chance to go abroad As a partner in some interesting business. But I might be expected to put up some capital.
LORD CLAVERTON	What sort of business have you in mind?
MICHAEL	Oh, I don’t know. Import and export, With an opportunity of profits both ways.
LORD CLAVERTON	This is what I will do for you, Michael. I will help you to make a start in any business You may find for yourself — if, on investigation, I am satisfied about the nature of the business.
MICHAEL	Anyway, I’m determined to get out of England.
LORD CLAVERTON	Michael! Are there reasons for your wanting to go Beyond what you’ve told me? It isn’t … manslaughter?
MICHAEL	Manslaughter? Why manslaughter? Oh, you mean on the road. Certainly not. I’m far too good a driver.
LORD CLAVERTON	What then? That young woman?
MICHAEL	I’m not such a fool As to get myself involved in a breach of promise suit Or somebody’s divorce. No, you needn’t worry About that girl — or any other. But I want to get out. I’m fed up with England.
LORD CLAVERTON	I’m sure you don’t mean that. But it’s natural enough To want a few years abroad. It might be very good for you To find your feet. But I shouldn’t like to think That what inspired you was no positive ambition But only the desire to escape.
MICHAEL	I’m not a fugitive.
LORD CLAVERTON	No, not a fugitive from justice — Only a fugitive from reality. Oh Michael! If you had some aim of high achievement, Some dream of excellence, how gladly would I help you! Even though it carried you away from me forever To suffer the monotonous sun of the tropics Or shiver in the northern night. Believe me, Michael: Those who flee from their past will always lose the race. I know this from experience. When you reach your goal, Your imagined paradise of success and grandeur, You will find your past failures waiting there to greet you. You’re all I have to live for, Michael — You and Monica. If I lived for twenty years Knowing that my son had played the coward — I should merely be another twenty years in dying.
MICHAEL	Very well: if you like, call me a coward. I wonder whether you would play the hero If you were in my place. I don’t believe you would. You didn’t suffer from the handicap that I’ve had. Your father was rich, but was no one in particular, So you’d nothing to live up to. Those standards of conduct You’ve always made so much of, for my benefit: I wonder whether you have always lived up to them.
(didascalia)	[MONICA has entered unobserved]
MONICA	Michael! How can you speak to Father like that? Father! What has happened? Why do you look so angry? I know that Michael must be in great trouble, So can’t you help him?
LORD CLAVERTON	I am trying to help him, And to meet him halfway. I have made him an offer Which he must think over. But if he goes abroad 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 …
(didascalia)	[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.
(didascalia)	[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!
(didascalia)	[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.
(didascalia)	[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

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	[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 I’m afraid the law can’t touch them.
CHARLES	Then why should you submit? Why not leave Badgley and escape from them?
LORD CLAVERTON	Because they are not real, Charles. They are merely ghosts: Spectres from my past. They’ve always been with me Though it was not till lately that I found the living persons Whose ghosts tormented me, to be only human beings, Malicious, petty, and I see myself emerging From my spectral existence into something like reality.
MONICA	But what did the ghosts mean? All these years You’ve kept them to yourself. Did Mother know of them?
LORD CLAVERTON	Your mother knew nothing about them. And I know That I never knew your mother, as she never knew me. I thought that she would never understand Or that she would be jealous of the ghosts who haunted me. And I’m still of that opinion. How open one’s heart When one is sure of the wrong response? How make a confession with no hope of absolution? It was not her fault. We never understood each other. And so we lived, with a deep silence between us, And she died silently. She had nothing to say to me. I think of your mother, when she lay dying: Completely without interest in the life that lay behind her And completely indifferent to whatever lay ahead of her.
MONICA	It is time to break the silence! Let us share your ghosts!
CHARLES	But these are only human beings, who can be dealt with.
MONICA	Or only ghosts, who can be exorcised! Who are they, and what do they stand for in your life?
LORD CLAVERTON	… And yet they’ve both done better for themselves In consequence of it all. He admitted as much, Fred Culverwell …
MONICA	Fred Culverwell? Who is Fred Culverwell?
LORD CLAVERTON	He no longer exists. He’s Federico Gomez, the Central American, A man who’s made a fortune by his own peculiar methods, A man of great importance and the highest standing In his adopted country. He even has sons Following in their father’s footsteps Who are also successful. What would he have been If he hadn’t known me? Only a schoolmaster In an obscure grammar school somewhere in the Midlands. As for Maisie Batterson …
MONICA	Maisie Batterson? Who is Maisie Batterson?
LORD CLAVERTON	She no longer exists. Nor the musical comedy star, Maisie Montjoy. There is Mrs. John Carghill, the wealthy widow. But Freddy Culverwell and Maisie Batterson, And Dick Ferry too, and Richard Ferry — These are my ghosts. They were people with good in them, People who might all have been very different From Gomez, Mrs. Carghill and Lord Claverton. Freddy admired me, when we were at Oxford; What did I make of his admiration? I led him to acquire tastes beyond his means: So he became a forger. And so he served his term. Was I responsible for that weakness in him? Yes, I was. How easily we ignore the fact that those who admire us Will imitate our vices as well as our virtues — Or whatever the qualities for which they did admire us! And that again may nourish the faults that they were born with. And Maisie loved me, with whatever capacity For loving she had — self-centred and foolish — But we should respect love always when we meet it; Even when it’s vain and selfish, we must not abuse it. That is where I failed. And the memory frets me.
CHARLES	But all the same, these two people mustn’t persecute you. We can’t allow that. What hold have they upon you?
LORD CLAVERTON	Only the hold of those who know Something discreditable, dishonourable …
MONICA	Then, Father, you should tell us what they already know. Why should you wish to conceal from those who love you What is known so well to those who hate you?
LORD CLAVERTON	I will tell you very briefly And simply. As for Frederick Culverwell, He re-enters my life to make himself a reminder Of one occasion the memory of which He knows very well, has always haunted me. I was driving back to Oxford. We had two girls with us. It was late at night. A secondary road. I ran over an old man lying in the road And I did not stop. Then another man ran over him. A lorry driver. He stopped and was arrested, But was later discharged. It was definitely shown That the old man had died a natural death And had been run over after he was dead. It was only a corpse that we had run over So neither of us killed him. But I didn’t stop. And all my life I have heard, from time to time, When I least expected, between waking and sleeping, A voice that whispered, ‘you didn’t stop!’ I knew the voice: it was Fred Culverwell’s.
MONICA	Poor Father! All your life! And no one to share it with; I never knew how lonely you were Or why you were lonely.
CHARLES	And Mrs. Carghill: What has she against you?
LORD CLAVERTON	I was her first lover. I would have married her — but my father prevented that: Made it worth while for her not to marry me — That was his way of putting it — and of course Made it worth while for me not to marry her. In fact, we were wholly unsuited to each other. Yet she had a peculiar physical attraction Which no other woman has had. And she knows it. And she knows that the ghost of the man I was Still clings to the ghost of the woman who was Maisie. We should have been poor, we should certainly have quarrelled, We should have been unhappy, might have come to divorce; But she hasn’t forgotten or forgiven me.
CHARLES	This man, and this woman, who are so vindictive: Don’t you see that they were as much at fault as you And that they know it? That’s why they are inspired With revenge — it’s their means of self-justification. Let them tell their versions of their miserable stories. Confide them in whispers. They cannot harm you.
LORD CLAVERTON	Your reasoning’s sound enough. But it’s irrelevant. Each of them remembers an occasion On which I ran away. Very well. I shan’t run away now — run away from them. It is through this meeting that I shall at last escape them. — I’ve made my confession to you, Monica: That is the first step taken towards my freedom, And perhaps the most important. I know what you think. You think that I suffer from a morbid conscience, From brooding over faults I might well have forgotten. You think that I’m sickening, when I’m just recovering! It’s hard to make other people realise The magnitude of things that appear to them petty; It’s harder to confess the sin that no one believes in Than the crime that everyone can appreciate. For the crime is in relation to the law And the sin is in relation to the sinner. What has made the difference in the last five minutes Is not the heinousness of my misdeeds But the fact of my confession. And to you, Monica, To you, of all people.
CHARLES	I grant you all that. But what do you propose? How long. Lord Claverton, Will you stay here and endure this persecution?
LORD CLAVERTON	To the end. The place and time of liberation Are, I think, determined. Let us say no more about it. Meanwhile, I feel sure they are conspiring against me. I see Mrs. Carghill coming.
MONICA	Let us go.
LORD CLAVERTON	We will stay here. Let her join us.
(didascalia)	[Enter MRS. CARGHILL]
MRS	CARGHILL. I’ve been hunting high and low for you, Richard! I’ve some very exciting news for you! But I suspect … Dare I? Yes, I’m sure of it, Monica! I can tell by the change in your expression to-day; This must be your fiancé. Do introduce him.
MONICA	Mr. Charles Hemington. Mrs. Carghill.
CHARLES	How do you do.
MRS	CARGHILL.                  What a charming name!
CHARLES	I’m glad my name meets with your approval, Mrs. Carghill.
MRS	CARGHILL. And let me congratulate you‚ Mr. Hemington. You’re a very lucky man, to get a girl like Monica. I take a great interest in her future. Fancy! I’ve only known her two days! But I feel like a mother to her already. You may say that I just missed being her mother! I’ve known her father for a very long time, And there was a moment when I almost married him, Oh so long ago. So you see, Mr. Hemington, I’ve come to regard her as my adopted daughter. So much so, that it seems odd to call you Mr. Hemington: I’m going to call you Charles!
CHARLES	As you please, Mrs. Carghill.
LORD CLAVERTON	You said you had some exciting news for us. Would you care to impart it?
MRS	CARGHILL.                         It’s about dear Michael.
LORD CLAVERTON	Oh? What about Michael?
MRS	CARGHILL.                                                 He’s told me all his story. You’ve cruelly misunderstood him, Richard. How he must have suffered! So I put on my thinking cap. I know you’ve always thought me utterly brainless, But I have an idea or two, now and then. And in the end I discovered what Michael really wanted For making a new start. He wants to go abroad! And find his own way in the world. That’s very natural. So I thought, why not appeal to Señor Gomez? He’s a wealthy man, and very important In his own country. And a friend of Michael’s father! And I found him only too ready to help.
LORD CLAVERTON	And what was Señor Gomez able to suggest?
MRS	CARGHILL. Ah! That’s the surprise for which I’ve come to prepare you. Dear Michael is so happy — all his problems are solved; And he was so perplexed, poor lamb. Let’s all rejoice together.
(didascalia)	[Enter GOMEZ and MICHAEL]
LORD CLAVERTON	Well, Michael, you know I expected you this morning, But you never came.
MICHAEL	No, Father. I’ll explain why.
LORD CLAVERTON	And I learn that you have discussed your problems With Mrs. Carghill and then with Señor Gomez.
MICHAEL	When I spoke, Father, of my wish to get abroad. You couldn’t see my point of view. What’s the use of chasing Half round the world, for the same sort of job You got me here in London? With another Sir Alfred Who’d constitute himself custodian of my morals And send you back reports. Some sort of place Where everyone would sneer at the fellow from London, The limey remittance man for whom a job was made. No! I want to go where I can make my own way, Not merely be your son. That’s what Señor Gomez sees. He understands my point of view, if you don’t. And he’s offered me a job which is just what I wanted.
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, I see the advantage of a job created for you By Señor Gomez …
MICHAEL	It’s not created for me. Señor Gomez came to London to find a man to fill it, And he thinks I’m just the man.
GOMEZ	Yes, wasn’t it extraordinary.
LORD CLAVERTON	Of course you’re just the man that Señor Gomez wants, But in a different sense, and for different reasons From what you think. Let me tell you about Gomez. He’s unlikely to try to be custodian of your morals; His real name is Culverwell …
GOMEZ	My dear Dick, You’re wasting your time, rehearsing ancient history. Michael knows it already. I’ve told him myself. I thought he’d better learn the facts from me Before he heard your distorted version. But, Dick, I was nettled by that insinuation About my not being custodian of Michael’s morals. That is just what I should be! And most appropriate, Isn’t it, Dick, when we recall That you were once custodian of my morals: Though of course you went a little faster than I did.
LORD CLAVERTON	On that point, Fred, you’re wasting your time: My daughter and my future son-in-law Understand that allusion. I have told them the story In explanation of our … intimacy Which they found puzzling.
MRS	CARGHILL.                       Oh,Richard! Have you explained to them our intimacy too?
LORD CLAVERTON	I have indeed.
MRS	CARGHILL.                           The romance of my life. Your father was simply irresistible In those days. I melted the first time he looked at me! Some day, Monica, I’ll tell you all about it.
MONICA	I am satisfied with what I know already, Mrs. Carghill, About you.
MRS	CARGHILL. But I was very lovely then.
GOMEZ	We are sure of that! You’re so lovely now That we can well imagine you at … what age were you?
MRS	CARGHILL. Just eighteen.
LORD CLAVERTON	Now, Michael, Señior Gomez says he has told you his story. Did he include the fact that he served a term in prison?
MICHAEL	He told me everything. It was his experience With you, that made him so understanding Of my predicament.
LORD CLAVERTON	And made him invent The position which he’d come to find the man for.
MICHAEL	I don’t care about that. He’s offered me the job With a jolly good screw, and some pickings in commissions. He’s made a fortune there. San Marco for me!
LORD CLAVERTON	And what are your duties to be? Do you know?
MICHAEL	We didn’t go into details. There’s time for that later.
GOMEZ	Much better to wait until we get there. The nature of business in San Marco Is easier explained in San Marco than in England.
LORD CLAVERTON	Perhaps you intend to change your name to Gomez?
GOMEZ	Oh no, Dick, there are plenty of other good names.
MONICA	Michael, Michael, you can’t abandon your family And your very self — it’s a kind of suicide.
CHARLES	Michael, you think Señor Gomez is inspired by benevolence —
MICHAEL	I told you he’d come to London looking for a man For an important post on his staff —
CHARLES	A post the nature of which is left very vague
MICHAEL	It’s confidential, I tell you.
CHARLES	So I can imagine: Highly confidential …
GOMEZ	Be careful, Mr. Barrister. You ought to know something about the law of slander. Here’s Mrs. Carghill, a reliable witness.
CHARLES	I know enough about the law of libel and slander To know that you are hardly likely to invoke it. And, Michael, here’s another point to think of: Señor Gomez has offered you a post in San Marco, Señor Gomez pays your passage …
MICHAEL	And an advance of salary.
CHARLES	Señor Gomez pays your passage …
GOMEZ	Just as many years ago His father paid mine.
CHARLES	This return of past kindness No doubt gives you pleasure?
GOMEZ	Yes, it’s always pleasant To repay an old debt. And better late than never.
CHARLES	I see your point of view. Can you really feel confidence, Michael, in a man who aims to gratify, through you, His lifelong grievance against your father? Remember, you put yourself completely in the power Of a man you don’t know, of the nature of whose business You know nothing. All you can be sure of Is that he served a prison sentence for forgery.
GOMEZ	Well, Michael, what do you say to all this?
MICHAEL	I’ll say that Hemington has plenty of cheek. Señor Gomez and I have talked things over, Hemington …
GOMEZ	As two men of the world, we discussed things very frankly; And I can tell you, Michael’s head is well screwed on. He’s got brains, he’s got flair. When he does come back He’ll be able to buy you out many times over.
MRS	CARGHILL. Richard, I think it’s time I joined the conversation. My late husband, Mr. Carghill, was a business man — I wish you could have known him, Señor Gomez! You’re very much alike in some ways — So I understand business. Mr. Carghill told me so. Now, Michael has great abilities for business. I saw that, and so does Señor Gomez. He’s simply been suffering, poor boy, from frustration. He’s been waiting all this time for opportunity To make use of his gifts; and now, opportunity — Opportunity has come knocking at the door. Richard, you must not bar his way. That would be shameful.
LORD CLAVERTON	I cannot bar his way, as you know very well. Michael’s a free agent. So if he chooses To place himself in your power, Fred Culverwell, Of his own volition to contract his enslavement, I cannot prevent him. I have something to say to you, Michael, before you go. I shall never repudiate you Though you repudiate me. I see now clearly The many many mistakes I have made My whole life through, mistake upon mistake, The mistaken attempts to correct mistakes By methods which proved to be equally mistaken. I see that your mother and I, in our failure To understand each other, both misunderstood you In our divergent ways. When I think of your childhood, When I think of the happy little boy who was Michael, When I think of your boyhood and adolescence, And see how all the efforts aimed at your good Only succeeded in defeating each other, How can I feel anything but sorrow and compunction?
MONICA	Oh Michael, remember, you’re my only brother And I’m your only sister. You never took much notice of me. When we were growing up we seldom had the same friends. I took all that for granted. So I didn’t know till now How much it means to me to have a brother.
MICHAEL	Why of course, Monica. You know I’m very fond of you Though we never really seemed to have much in common. I remember, when I came home for the holidays How it used to get on my nerves, when I saw you Always sitting there with your nose in a book. And once, Mother snatched a book away from you And tossed it into the fire. How I laughed! You never seemed even to want a flirtation, And my friends used to chaff me about my highbrow sister. But all the same, I was fond of you, and always shall be. We don’t meet often, but if we’re fond of each other, That needn’t interfere with your life or mine.
MONICA	Oh Michael, you haven’t understood a single word Of what I said. You must make your own life Of course, just as I must make mine. It’s not a question of your going abroad But a question of the spirit which inspired your decision: If you wish to renounce your father and your family What is left between you and me?
MICHAEL	That makes no difference. You’ll be seeing me again.
MONICA	But who will you be When I see you again? Whoever you are then I shall always pretend that it is the same Michael.
CHARLES	And when do you leave England?
MICHAEL	When we can get a passage. And I must buy my kit. We’re just going up to London. Señor Gomez will attend to my needs for that climate. And you see, he has friends in the shipping line Who he thinks can be helpful in getting reservations.
MRS	CARGHILL. It’s wonderful, Señor Gomez, how you manage everything! — No sooner had I put my proposal before him Than he had it all planned out! It really was an inspiration — On my part, I mean. Are you listening to me, Richard? You look very distrait. You ought to be excited!
LORD CLAVERTON	Is this good-bye then, Michael?
MICHAEL	Well, that just depends. I could look in again. If there’s any point in it. Personally, I think that when one’s come to a decision, It’s as well to say good-bye at once and be done with it.
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, if you’re going, and I see no way to stop you, Then I agree with you, the sooner the better. We may never meet again, Michael.
MICHAEL	I don’t see why not.
GOMEZ	At the end of five years he will get his first leave.
MICHAEL	Well… there’s nothing more to say, is there?
LORD CLAVERTON	Nothing at all.
MICHAEL	Then we might as well be going.
GOMEZ	Yes, we might as well be going. You’ll be grateful to me in the end, Dick.
MRS	CARGHILL. A parent isn’t always the right person, Richard, To solve a son’s problems. Sometimes an outsider, A friend of the family, can see more clearly.
GOMEZ	Not that I deserve any credit for it. We can only regard it as a stroke of good fortune That I came to England at the very moment When I could be helpful.
MRS	CARGHILL. It’s truly providential!
MONICA	Good-bye Michael. Will you let me write to you?
GOMEZ	Oh, I’m glad you reminded me. Here’s my business card With the full address. You can always reach him there. But it takes some days, you know, even by air mail.
MONICA	Take the card, Charles. If I write to you, Michael, Will you ever answer?
MICHAEL	Oh of course, Monica. You know I’m not much of a correspondent; But I’ll send you a card, now and again, Just to let you know I’m flourishing.
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, write to Monica.
GOMEZ	Well, good-bye Dick. And good-bye Monica. Good-bye, Mr…. Hemington.
MONICA	Good-bye Michael.
(didascalia)	[Exeunt MICHAEL and GOMEZ]
MRS	CARGHILL. I’m afraid this seems awfully sudden to you, Richard; It isn’t so sudden. We talked it all over. But I’ve got a little piece of news of my own: Next autumn, I’m going out to Australia, On my doctor’s advice. And on my way back Señor Gomez has invited me to visit San Marco. I’m so excited! But what pleases me most Is that I shall be able to bring you news of Michael. And now that we’ve found each other again, We must always keep in touch. But you’d better rest now. You’re looking rather tired. I’ll run and see them off.
(didascalia)	[Exit MRS. CARGHILL]
MONICA	Oh Father, Father, I’m so sorry! But perhaps, perhaps, Michael may learn his lesson. I believe he’ll come back. If it’s all a failure Homesickness, I’m sure, will bring him back to us; If he prospers, that will give him confidence — It’s only self-confidence that Michael is lacking. Oh Father, it’s not you and me he rejects, But himself, the unhappy self that he’s ashamed of. I’m sure he loves us.
LORD CLAVERTON	Monica my dear, What you say comes home to me. I fear for Michael; Nevertheless, you are right to hope for something better. And when he comes back, if he does come back, I know that you and Charles will do what you can To make him feel that he is not estranged from you.
CHARLES	We will indeed. We shall be ready to welcome him And give all the aid we can. But it’s both of you together Make the force to attract him: you and Monica combined.
LORD CLAVERTON	I shall not be here. You heard me say to him That this might be a final good-bye. I am sure of it now. Perhaps it is as well.
MONICA	What do you mean, Father? You’ll be here to greet him. But one thing I’m convinced of: you must leave Badgley Court.
CHARLES	Monica is right. You should leave.
LORD CLAVERTON	This may surprise you: I feel at peace now. It is the peace that ensues upon contrition When contrition ensues upon knowledge of the truth. Why did I always want to dominate my children? Why did I mark out a narrow path for Michael? Because I wanted to perpetuate myself in him. Why did I want to keep you to myself, Monica? Because I wanted you to give your life to adoring The man that I pretended to myself that I was, So that I could believe in my own pretences. I’ve only just now had the illumination Of knowing what love is. We all think we know, But how few of us do! And now I feel happy — In spite of everything, in defiance of reason, I have been brushed by the wing of happiness. And I am happy, Monica, that you have found a man Whom you can love for the man he really is.
MONICA	Oh Father, I’ve always loved you, But I love you more since I have come to know you Here, at Badgley Court. And I love you the more Because I love Charles.
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, my dear. Your love is for the real Charles, not a make-believe, As was your love for me.
MONICA	But not now, Father! It’s the real you I love — the man you are, Not the man I thought you were.
LORD CLAVERTON	And Michael — I love him, even for rejecting me, For the me he rejected, I reject also. I’ve been freed from the self that pretends to be someone; And in becoming no one, I begin to live. It is worth while dying, to find out what life is. And I love you, my daughter, the more truly for knowing That there is someone you love more than your father — That you love and are loved. And now that I love Michael, I think, for the first time — remember, my dear, I am only a beginner in the practice of loving — Well, that is something.                                            I shall leave you for a while. This is your first visit to us at Badgley Court, Charles, and not at all what you were expecting. I am sorry you have had to see so much of persons And situations not very agreeable. You two ought to have a little time together. I leave Monica to you. Look after her, Charles, Now and always. I shall take a stroll.
MONICA	At this time of day? You’ll not go far, will you? You know you’re not allowed to stop out late At this season. It’s chilly at dusk.
LORD CLAVERTON	Yes, it’s chilly at dusk. But I’ll be warm enough. I shall not go far.
(didascalia)	[Exit CLAVERTON]
CHARLES	He’s a very different man from the man he used to be. It’s as if he had passed through some door unseen by us And had turned and was looking back at us With a glance of farewell.
MONICA	I can’t understand his going for a walk.
CHARLES	He wanted to leave us alone together!
MONICA	Yes, he wanted to leave us alone together. And yet, Charles, though we’ve been alone to-day Only a few minutes, I’ve felt all the time …
CHARLES	I know what you’re going to say! We were alone together, in some mysterious fashion, Even with Michael, and despite those people, Because somehow we’d begun to belong together, And that awareness …
MONICA	Was a shield protecting both of us …
CHARLES	So that now we are conscious of a new person Who is you and me together.                                                     Oh my dear, I love you to the limits of speech, and beyond. It’s strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, So the lover must struggle for words.
MONICA	I’ve loved you from the beginning of the world. Before you and I were born, the love was always there That brought us together.                                              Oh Father, Father! I could speak to you now.
CHARLES	Let me go and find him.
MONICA	We will go to him together. He is close at hand. Though he has gone too far to return to us. He is under the beech tree. It is quiet and cold there. In becoming no one, he has become himself. He is only my father now, and Michael’s. And I am happy. Isn’t it strange, Charles, To be happy at this moment?
CHARLES	It is not at all strange. The dead has poured out a blessing on the living.
MONICA	Age and decrepitude can have no terrors for me, Loss and vicissitude cannot appal me, Not even death can dismay or amaze me Fixed in the certainty of love unchanging.                                                                          I feel utterly secure In you; I am a part of you. Now take me to my father. CURTAIN The Cast of the First Production at the Edinburgh Festival August 25–August 30 1958 Monica Claverton-Ferry ANNA MASSEY Charles Hemington RICHARD GALE Lambert GEOFFREY KERR Lord Claverton PAUL ROGERS Federico Gomez WILLIAM SQUIRE Mrs. Piggott DOROTHEA PHILLIPS Mrs. Carghill EILEEN PEEL Michael Claverton-Ferry ALEC MCCOWEN Presented by HENRY SHEREK Directed by E. MARTIN BROWNE Settings designed by HUTCHINSON SCOTT APPENDIX POEMS WRITTEN IN EARLY YOUTH