by Tom Stoppard
NATALIE I wanted to be naked for you, you see.
GEORGE I do. I do see.
EMMA Where’ve they got to, I wonder?
NATALIE Just once!
TURGENEV They’re hunting mushrooms.
NATALIE So, when I’m sitting across from you in the objective world, listening to Alexander reading Schiller in the evenings—or picnicking at Montmorency!—you’ll remember there is an inner reality, my existence-in-itself, where my naked soul is one with yours!
GEORGE I am deeply … Just once?
HERZEN What would it be like?
NATALIE Let’s not talk … let’s close our eyes and commune with the spirit of Rousseau among the woods where he walked!
HERZEN That’s where Rousseau lived, that cottage. Montmorency is the only bit of country round Paris which reminds me of Russia. Nature here is simple, not like the park at St Cloud, which is somebody’s masterpiece, or the disciplinarian planting at Trianon. How is the country where you go to stay?
TURGENEV Delightful.
EMMA Do your friends have land?
TURGENEV It wouldn’t count for much at home. You can see right across it.
HERZEN How many souls do they have?
TURGENEV One each.
NATALIE Oh, George! I ask for nothing but to give!
GEORGE Please get dressed before …
NATALIE I ask nothing of you but to take!
GEORGE I will, I will, but not here …
NATALIE To take strength from me.
GEORGE Oh, yes, yes, you’re the only one who understands me.
HERZEN Well, what do you do there?
TURGENEV We like to go out shooting.
HERZEN Madame Viardot shoots?
TURGENEV No, she’s not an American, she’s an opera singer. Her husband shoots.
HERZEN Ah. Is he accurate?
Turgenev crumples up his drawing.
EMMA Oh—what a waste of being still.
GEORGE But Emma must be wondering …
NATALIE Let’s tell her!
GEORGE No!
NATALIE Why ever not?
GEORGE Besides, she’d tell Alexander.
NATALIE Do you think so? Alexander must never know.
GEORGE I agree.
NATALIE He wouldn’t understand.
GEORGE No, he wouldn’t
NATALIE If only he could see there’s no egoism in my love.
GEORGE We’ll find a way.
NATALIE One day, perhaps …
GEORGE Yes, let me think—Tuesday …
NATALIE But until then …
GEORGE Yes—so put your clothes on, my dear spirit, my beautiful soul!
NATALIE Don’t look, then.
GEORGE Oh God, we haven’t found a single mushroom!
George snatches up the basket and hurries away. Natalie starts getting dressed.
TURGENEV (to Herzen) You still own a small estate at home, I believe. How many souls do you have?
HERZEN None now. The government took it. But you’re quite right. I apologise.
TURGENEV I freed my mother’s household serfs, with land, but I receive quit-rent from the rest.
EMMA Honestly, you Russians.
HERZEN I’m going to find George and Natalie. (Herzen leaves.)
EMMA What are you writing now?
TURGENEV A play.
EMMA Is it about us?
TURGENEV It takes place over a month in a house in the country. A woman and a young girl fall in love with the same man.
EMMA Who wins?
TURGENEV Nobody, of course.
EMMA I want to ask you something, but you might be angry with me.
TURGENEV I’ll answer anyway. No.
EMMA But how do you know the question?
TURGENEV I don’t. You can apply my answer to any question of your choice.
EMMA That’s a good system … Well, I’m sorry. Devotion such as yours should not go unrewarded.
Pause.
EMMA (cont.) Now I want to ask you something else.
TURGENEV Yes.
Emma starts to weep.
TURGENEV (cont.) I’m sorry.
EMMA But you’re right. If you knew how I suffer. George was my first.
TURGENEV My first was a serf. I think my mother put her up to it. I was fifteen. I was in the garden. It was a drizzly sort of day. Suddenly I saw a girl coming towards me … she came right to me. I was her master, you must remember. She was my slave. She took hold of me by the hair and said, ‘Come!’ … Unforgettable … Words stagger after. Art despairs.
EMMA That’s different. That’s eroticism.
TURGENEV Yes.
EMMA Have you ever been happy?
TURGENEV But I have moments of extreme happiness … ecstasy!—
EMMA Do you?
TURGENEV —watching a duck scratching the back of its head with that quick back-and-forth of its damp foot … and the way slow silver threads of water stream from a cow’s mouth when it raises its head from the edge of the pond to stare at you …
Herzen enters.
HERZEN Rousseau has a lot to answer for.
George follows Herzen, with the basket.
GEORGE Oh … why do you say that?
Natalie leaves. Emma takes the basket and upends it. A single virulent toadstool falls out.
HERZEN I idolised Rousseau when I was young … Man in his natural state, uncorrupted by civilisation, desiring only those things which are good to desire …
GEORGE Oh, yes.
HERZEN … and everybody free to follow their desires without conflicts, because they’d all want the same things …
EMMA Where’s Natalie?
GEORGE Didn’t she come back?
HERZEN She’ll be rounding up the nurse and the children.
GEORGE (to Emma) My love, what do you think? We’re going to share a house with Alexander and Natalie in Nice! He’s going to go on ahead and find a place.
EMMA Why … why leave Paris?
HERZEN We belong to Egypt, not to the Promised Land. The people faltered. I wouldn’t insult them by absolving them. They had no programme, and no sovereign brain to carry one out. The Sovereign People are our invention. The masses are more like a phenomenon in nature, and nature isn’t interested in our fantasy that ink is action. Ask George. We’re dupes.
Natalie enters.
HERZEN (cont.) (to Natalie) I’m a dupe. Well and good. We, too, will look to our faults—our passions and vices—and prepare ourselves by living by our ideals in a republic of our own. We are many!—Nine, counting my mother and the children.
NATALIE The children must be hungry. I’m starving.
TURGENEV It’s going to rain.
HERZEN (to Natalie) George has offered to escort you and the children on your journey south. (to Emma) Your husband is kindness itself.
GEORGE (to Emma) And when you’ve had the baby, you’ll join us.
EMMA (to Herzen) There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.
NATALIE Come on—we can go in that empty cottage.
Herzen and Natalie leave, holding hands.
GEORGE (to Turgenev) Are you writing anything?
TURGENEV Well … no …
EMMA Yes, he is. It’s a comedy.
TURGENEV Here it comes.
Turgenev puts his palm out to the first drops. They leave, following Herzen and Natalie.
SEPTEMBER 1850
Nice (at this time an Italian town).
Herzen is writing on the verandah of a large house on the Promenade. The light is Mediterranean, the sea washing the shingles is audible, part of the garden is visible. The verandah is a large area containing a family dining table and chairs, and some comfortable chairs around a smaller table. There is a door to the interior. Mother and Kolya are absorbed together, at a distance from Herzen, using a hand mirror (in which Kolya studies his mouth movements). An Italian servant, ROCCA, is laying the table and singing for his own enjoyment. As he goes indoors, he passingly ‘serenades�
�� Mother and Kolya. Mother manages a game smile. With her collusion, Kolya trots over to Herzen. Herzen slightly over-enunciates for Kolya.
HERZEN Was moechtest du denn? [What do you want, darling?]
Kolya looks back to Mother for assurance. She smiles him on.
KOLYA Ich spreche Russisch! [I speak Russian!] (in ‘English’) ‘Sunny day! My name is Kolya!’
HERZEN Wunderbar! [Wonderful!]
Great delight, made physical, on all sides.
HERZEN (cont.) Jetzt sprichst du Russisch! [Now you speak Russian!]
KOLYA Ich spreche Russisch! [I speak Russian!]
Rocca returns, singing, with more things for the table.
HERZEN Zeig es Mami! [Show Mummy!] Do vei Signora? [Where is the Signora?]
ROCCA Sta nel giardino. [She was in the garden.]
Rocca leaves singing.
MOTHER I suppose the next one will juggle.
Herzen places Kolya’s hands on Herzen’s face and enunciates while Kolya lip-reads.
HERZEN (to Kolya) Garten. [Garden.]
Kolya trots off out of sight.
MOTHER But Italy is friendlier than Switzerland, especially to children and old ladies. The school in Zurich was the last straw—what a shock when they discovered they were harbouring the child of a dangerous revolutionary instead of a Russian nobleman.
HERZEN I was pleased that my little book made such an impression on the good burghers of Zurich … and we stole the school’s best teacher for Kolya, so it’s ended well—(He looks at his watch.)—and I have to meet him off the diligence at Genoa. He’ll soon have Kolya orating on the seashore like Demosthenes with a pebble in his mouth. But I want you to be happy here, too.
MOTHER I, too? (She kisses him.)
HERZEN I liked Nice when we came through here on our way to Rome three years ago, do you remember?
MOTHER I remember the shingle beach when we were on our way back after the French Republic was declared … and the excitement, when we reached the border, of having Republican stamps in our passports … A French stamp, even before the Republic, would get you into trouble at home, Sasha …
HERZEN How can I go back? I’ve tried suffocation, darkness, fear and censorship—and I’ve tried air, light, security and freedom to publish—and I know which is better. There’s no emperor or king or pope in Europe who can match the Tsar for despotism, especially now, after the almighty scare he got … The people here have had a civilisation for two thousand years, and they keep something of themselves which no passing tyranny can eradicate. But I’ll show you why I can’t go home again. (He goes to the table where he has been working and picks up a French journal.) Here’s a man writing about us. It’s a French paper. He’s the first person in France to write about the Russian people, and he can prove that the Russian people are not human, because they are devoid of moral sense. The Russian is a thief and a liar, and is so innocently because it’s his nature.
MOTHER He doesn’t mean us, he means the peasants.
HERZEN Yes, they lie to landowners, officials, judges, policemen … and steal from them—and they are right, because they are denied every kind of self-protection and dignity. What have our moral categories got to do with the Russians we’ve abandoned? Not to steal would be to concede the fairness of their portion. For two hundred years their whole life has been one long dumb passive protest against the existing order. They have no one to speak for them.
MOTHER What time is the diligence?
HERZEN God give me Medea!
MOTHER (indicating the garden) Kolya’s nagging Natalie to go to the beach—and she’s in no fit state—where’s the nurse?
HERZEN (throwing down the journal) This is not some demented pamphleteer, he’s a distinguished historian famous for his humanitarian views, writing for intelligent Frenchmen—(shouting after her) It’s about time to acquaint Europe with Russia, don’t you think?
Mother leaves.
Herzen looks at his watch, hurries away, reverses direction and shouts towards the garden.
HERZEN (cont.) Don’t let go of his hand in the water!
Leaving again, he encounters Emma, who is no longer pregnant, wheeling a small baby carriage.
HERZEN (cont.) Is there any news of George? When is he coming?
EMMA I don’t know.
HERZEN Well, it’s too bad of him. We’re not complete without him.
Natalie, seven months pregnant, comes into view.
HERZEN (cont.) (to Natalie) I’m going to pick up Spielmann. That’s his name!—Spielmann!
Laughing, he runs off calling for Rocca. Natalie comes forward.
NATALIE Was there a letter?
Emma gives Natalie a sealed letter.
NATALIE (cont.) Thank you. (Natalie puts the letter in her bosom.)
EMMA If he says when he’s coming, perhaps you’ll tell me.
NATALIE Yes, of course.
EMMA If you loved him, you’d leave Alexander.
NATALIE (shakes her head) Alexander must be spared this. The one time he began to wonder … he nearly lost his mind. I would have done anything to reassure him.
EMMA You did the simplest thing. If you weren’t in a state where you can hardly be said to be of practical use, George would be here now.
NATALIE You mustn’t humiliate yourself, Emma. He loves you, too.
EMMA I’m a post office, and living upstairs in your house like a lodger, which is all we can afford to be—there is no further humiliation I could suffer. But I’m glad to do it for my George. He was unrecognisable when I came from Paris. He was suffering more than I. If you can’t make him happy—or cure him—give him back. He’ll come back anyway. This is not love, it’s exaltation.
Emma’s baby starts crying. She picks it up and paces.
NATALIE You haven’t understood anything. All my actions spring from the divine spirit of love, which I feel for all creation. Your logical way of looking at things just shows that you have grown apart from Nature. George is not the way you talk about him. He understands. He loves you. He loves Alexander. He loves your children and mine. Together, our love will be strong enough for all of us.
George enters, in travelling clothes. He takes one look at his wife, baby and pregnant mistress, and turns about.
NATALIE George!
EMMA George!
Natalie, with a glad cry, runs after him, followed by Emma.
NOVEMBER 1850
A newborn baby starts squalling inside the house. Bouquets of flowers arrive, by messenger and butler (Rocca). Herzen and George appear from indoors in smoking jackets, with cigars and glasses of champagne.
HERZEN (toasts) To Natalie and baby Olga.
GEORGE To Natalie and Olga.
HERZEN Where’s Emma?
George looks around.
GEORGE There.
DECEMBER 1850
The same place. A nurse (MARIA FOMM) wheels a smart pram. Emma is holding her crying eighteen-month-old child and close to hysteria. Herzen is writing what turns out to be a cheque and an IOU. When the baby raises its voice, Emma continues louder, so the decibel level threatens sometimes to become ludicrous.
EMMA On our honeymoon in Italy, George didn’t like the cologne they had there, so I sent to Paris for his special cologne, and when it arrived in Rome we were in Naples, and when it reached Naples we were back in Rome, and so it went on until the cologne followed us back to Paris. The carriage charges were enormous. That’s how I’ve always been with George. Nothing was too good or too much. Daddy used to be rich, he supplied all the silk furnishings to the Prussian court, but somehow the revolution made him quite poor, and he resents George, it’s so unfair. I’ve borrowed and sold everything I can so that George isn’t troubled, and now I don’t know where else to turn.
Natalie, no longer pregnant, wearing white, is seen being painted in Mediterranean sunshine.
EMMA (cont.) I felt you would be sympathetic because Natalie and I have such a close bond in George. He hardly wrote to me in all the
months I was left behind in Paris. Natalie is the one who wrote, to tell me how wonderful and kind and sensitive George is, how good with your children, how adorable he is … She has such a broad loving heart, there’s room for everybody in it, it seems …
HERZEN (giving her the cheque) Ten thousand francs for two years.
She signs the receipt, takes the cheque and leaves, with her crying baby.
JANUARY 1851
Natalie, with the painting she posed for, comes to show it to Herzen.
HERZEN Oh yes … Where will we put it?
NATALIE Oh … but it’s a present for George for the New Year.
HERZEN How silly of me.
NATALIE Do you like it?
HERZEN Very much. If Herwegh will permit it, I’ll order a copy made for myself.
NATALIE You’re angry.
HERZEN What should I have to be angry about?
NATALIE Take it for yourself, then.
HERZEN Nothing would induce me.
Natalie becomes tearful and confused.
NATALIE George is like my child. He becomes distressed—destroyed—or elated—by the smallest things. You’re a grown man among men, you don’t understand the yearning for love of a sensitive being for a different kind of love—
HERZEN Please speak plainly.
NATALIE He worships you, he lives for your approval, spare him this—
HERZEN Natalie, examine your heart calmly, be open with yourself, and with me. If you want me to go, I’ll go—I’ll go to America with Sasha—
Natalie becomes almost hysterical.
NATALIE How can you! How can you! As though such a thing were possible! You’re my homeland, my whole life. I’ve lived on my love for you as in God’s world, without it I wouldn’t exist, I’d have to be born again to have a life at all—
HERZEN Plain speech, for God’s sake! Has Herwegh—known you?
NATALIE If only you could understand!—you would beg my forgiveness for what you’re saying.
HERZEN Has he taken you?
NATALIE I have taken him—to my bosom like a babe.
HERZEN Is this poetry or infantilism? I want to know if he’s your lover.
NATALIE I am pure before myself and before the world—I bear no reproach in the very depths of my heart—now you know.
HERZEN (exasperated) Now I know what?
NATALIE That I am yours, that I love you, that my affection for George is God-given—if he went away, I would sicken—if you went away, I would die! Perhaps I should be the one to go—to Russia for a year—Natasha is the only one who would understand the purity of my love. Oh, how did this happen? How did this innocent world of my loving heart shatter to fragments?
