by Tom Murphy
Peter While the man up there has other ideas.
Priest Planning for tomorrow, madam?
Peter Planning, planning, planning, Father!
Priest In the midst of life we are in . . . madam?
Arina leaves the room.
Peter What grieves the maternal heart most of all is that he departed this world of vanity for that unknown realm without the last rites.
Priest Well, he has now received all the honours due to the departed that the Church can offer. You would wish that masses and requiem services continue on what basis?
Peter A daily basis for one month, thereafter a monthly basis for three months, then a three-monthly basis for a further three services.
Priest That should do it . . . Where did she get that beautiful red velvet pall?
Peter Something I had in keeping for myself. I like to feel I’m ready for His call at any moment.
Priest Please God you’ll find another one like it, sir.
Paul (as though to himself) How ready if it’s Satan – tsssssss! – does the calling?
Arina is returning.
Priest Ah, madam, how doubly sad when a child predeceases a parent – Oh no, no, no, no, no!
Her hand is outstretched and she continues, and unsmiling, until he takes the money it contains.
You continue to be the Church’s staunchest support, an adornment.
Arina We’re not sitting down to a funeral breakfast on this occasion, but if you go to the kitchen they’ll look after you there. (To Ulita.) Show him where he’s to go.
Priest (backing out of the room) We know not the time or the place? No living man can flee death, madam? Life is a mere – preliminary?
Peter My warm friend!
Priest So fleeting is our time here below. (He’s gone.)
Arina All this fuss for the sake of a wastrel, a fool. Tea?
Peter Tea, Mama.
Anna Yes, please.
Paul Vodka.
Arina (to servants) Give them what they want.
Anna Well, perhaps I’ll also have . . . (A glance from Arina.) Tea, please.
Arina Why again could your sister not travel to attend her uncle’s funeral?
Anna There’s flu in the convent, Grandma, and she –
Arina She isn’t well, we don’t need details.
Peter I am stricken with grief for him, dear companion of my childhood.
Arina He couldn’t bring himself to speak to his mother. ‘What a waste of life’ was all he could say. He wasn’t slow, though, or ashamed, to play the clown and appear in rags and cadge money from the people I do business with in town.
Peter Oh you bad, bad brother!
Arina Or kick up a row or put out his hand for charity to my servants.
Peter Strange: he cared nothing for the sacredness of his name.
Arina He could easily have done something worthwhile. He wasn’t stupid.
Paul laughs ‘No’, and nods to himself at this: stupidity is meant to be his domain.
Peter Tsssssss!
Arina The plans I had for him.
Peter And my grief is all the greater at this fresh cross that has been laid upon you.
Anna Was Uncle Steven very unhappy?
Arina Was he starved? What do I give myself? – Was he made to work? He did nothing but slouch up and down the room I gave him out there and look out the window.
Peter My name means everything to me.
Arina Another man would have thanked his mother enough.
Peter Thanked his mother.
Arina ‘Was he very unhappy?’ (And she rounds, fiercely, on Anna.) And the plans I had for your mother! Instead, she had to run away in the night, she and her soldier boy, to marry, just like dogs, without a priest’s blessing or a parent’s consent. (She turns away but then rounds back on Anna again.) And when she died, as shamefully as she lived, I inherit the fruit of it all, you and your sister!
Peter . . . Mama, you are –
Arina (glaring at her sons) Where are my grandchildren?!
Vodka has been served to Paul or he has helped himself. Now tea is ready and is served by Vera and Ulita.
Peter What’s her name?
Ulita Vera.
Peter (to himself) Vera. Mama, you’re chilled to the bone from standing in the graveyard. Will you have a little something in your tea?
Arina (nods. Then:) ‘What a waste of a life.’ Whose life was a waste?
Peter Vera, pour a little brandy in the mistress’s tea. Nothing in mine. (He refuses anything in his own tea.) The back on that girl, bless it! Vera.
Arina He never showed me the slightest affection.
Peter You are carrying burdens beyond your strength for your unworthy children: is there some way we might begin to lighten the load for you? Or, at least, discuss it?
Silence. They sip their drinks.
Arina (to Paul) I’d prefer it, my dear, if you said something than have you just sit there sticking pins in me.
Paul Sticking pins?
Arina Oh, at least, a parrot!
Paul All right then. (‘I’ll say something.’) I hope the Lord God Almighty gives our Steven a mansion in that unknown realm up there but – Who knows? – of that matter we must continue uncertain.
Peter Tsssssss!
Arina I wanted to send him to the Valley, out of my sight and God bless him, instead I had to go whistling for him in the wood. The Valley didn’t suit you.
Peter Mama –
Arina You wouldn’t support the idea –
Peter No –
Arina You talked me out of it –
Peter You had already decided –
Arina I hadn’t –
Peter You had already decided where he should live –
Arina You talked me out of it –
Peter Before you called that meeting.
Arina I hadn’t! (To Paul.) Had I?
Paul You always decide matters in advance for other people.
Peter (playfully) . . . And what, darling Mama, have you decided in advance for us today? There’s ‘something’!
Arina Are you making fun of me?
Silence. Paul has another vodka.
Arina Ah, I think I’ll give it all up while there’s still a little time.
Peter and Paul hold their breath.
Anna (innocently) And do what, Grandma?
Arina And do nothing – buy a motor car. Go places, visit the village where I was born, look at my father’s grave – start enjoying myself.
Peter Who will look after the estates?
Arina God will.
A sudden brusque hand movement tells the servants to get out. They obey. Peter and Paul are leaning forward in an anticipatory way.
Arina (leans towards them as in challenge or defiance and repeats) God will! . . . (Now, false gaiety.) There ought to be some way of taking it all to the grave, but it can’t be done!
She laughs and, just as suddenly, she is in tears. Tears embarrass her, so she tries to hide them. Anna takes her hand. Arina pulls her hand away. After a moment Arina resubmits her hand for Anna’s attention. In the background – wherever the ‘ghost’ of Steven is – a second ‘ghost’ is emerging: Victor. Arina continues to weep.
Arina And I’d like to visit St Bartholomew’s Shrine. I was very devoted to St Bartholomew when I was a little girl.
Anna Dearest Grandma! (She, too, is weeping.)
Arina . . . (It was) A day close to the end for Victor – for the windmill: I was sitting in my bedroom. He wouldn’t have wanted me near him, anyway. And I heard a voice, someone in the room, whispering. ‘Go to the saint.’ ‘Go to the saint, go to the saint.’ Three times. I looked around. I was completely alone. There was no one there. (She’s now trying to turn her weeping into laughing.) And the room was full of fragrance. There was no one there! I was completely alone.
Peter (sheds a tear) Dear friend Mama!
Arina And these days if you say a word to one of the maids they have two bac
k at you!
Peter God is merciful.
Arina He was once, while we were good, but – Well, there it is! (She has pulled herself together.) I’ve told our solicitors to be here on Monday. I have three estates. This one, which now has our famous Valley annexed to it, will be yours (Peter’s). The outlying farm on the mountain slopes, separated from here by Townsend’s place – it’s not the most hospitable of places but you are young, and it’s worth money – that will be made over in trust to you (Anna) and your sister. And Newbridge, not to be considered a ha’pworth less in value or acreage than here, will be signed over to you (Paul).
Anna Thank you, Grandma, but we don’t want anything.
Arina (to Peter and Paul) You’ve nothing to say?
Peter gestures that he is overcome with emotion and goes behind her to put his hand on her shoulder and think.
Anna What about you, Grandma?
Arina I have capital.
Paul Where will you live, Mother?
Arina Wherever I like.
Paul (pays his obeisance) Ma’am.
Arina Let Steven’s death be a lesson to us all. The manner of his passing was lonely, premature and without the sacraments. That springs from neglecting family obligations and not honouring one’s parents always. I regret my son’s death but I mustn’t go on grieving, nor should you, for – who knows? – his soul, maybe, is having a happy time on high.
She leaves. And ghosts – Steven and Victor – follow.
Paul Exactly what I said: ‘Who knows? Of that matter we must continue uncertain!’
He has another drink in celebration; Peter, deep in his own thoughts, also needs a drink; and Anna, who is weeping for everyone and, seeing that her uncles are preoccupied, has a little drink too.
Thus ends what we can regard as Act One.
Act Two
Scene One
A yard. Anthony and a Servant carry luggage, as to a carriage off, across the yard (and they will repeat their business with luggage, witnessing and skirting the following scene). Anna, her sister Lena and Vera, the maid, come in. They are dressed for travelling and they carry pieces of luggage. They are now young women. Anna is upset (and later she will start weeping); Lena, the darker personality is (understandably) of a sullen disposition.
Now comes Arina, dressed for leaving. She’s aged.
Arina On, out, we’re leaving. (Shooing on the others.)
But she’s in a rage and she turns back to shout abuse at the house, where Peter is concealing himself, forward again, shooing on the others, and back again to shout further abuse at the house.
Arina I gave my life for this place, creating it, increasing it – what for?! I ran myself into the ground managing it! I gave life to you, to a family – for what?! To be told what to do?!
She makes to leave, returns.
I do not account for myself to anyone, I do not take orders. Nobody tells me what I can, what I can’t do! I give orders! (She makes to leave again, shooing the others, ‘Out, we’re leaving!’ – but she’s back again:) Who gave you this place? And added to it since then – Townsend’s – bought out of the capital assets I had for the support of myself! And you are mismanaging everything! (To herself.) Disastrously. It’s unbearable. I gave my life for here. (She starts shouting again:) I gave you all this and it’s not enough without my blood?! . . . I have another son.
She leaves, Anna, Lena and Vera preceding/trailing her. Anthony/Servant watch her go, Anthony's hand raised in a farewell. Ivan, is somewhere, looking unhappy.
Scene Two
Newbridge: Paul’s estate.
A table, chairs, decanter, glasses. Arina, standing, waiting; Anna and Lena, too.
Kiry, elderly, comes in. (He was the manservant in earlier scenes.) She half recognises him. He smiles and winks at her prior to sitting at the table and pouring a drink for himself. Then:
Kiry Kiry: I was footman to your late husband one time. Oh! (‘Oh!’ as he pulls himself up to offer a drink to Arina.) Ma’am?
She shakes her head, ‘no’. This, though, is strange behaviour from a servant.
He sips his drink slowly, contentedly.
Arina . . . My son knows I’m here?
Kiry He knows you’re here . . . He’ll be down soon . . . The rain is coming down now out there. And the rye has come into flower . . . A bad summer.
He replenishes his glass and pours a drink into another glass for Paul who is about to come in. Paul is an altered man. He’s leaning on a stick and on Ulita (one of Arina’s servant maids in the old days).
Paul Mother! (A suggestion of cynicism.)
Arina My son?! (As much a ‘What is the matter?’ as a greeting.)
He dismisses or ignores the implied question. Ulita seats him beside Kiry and she takes the chair on the other side of him. Kiry slides the drink to Paul and then, ‘Ulita?’, asking Ulita would she like a drink. Ulita declines. And Kiry again offers to pour a drink for Arina.
Kiry Are you sure?
Arina Yes, I’m sure.
Paul But you’ll sit with us?
She sits across the table from them.
(This is) A surprise call, Mother.
Arina Oh!
Paul And how is the son who adores you, my brother?
Arina (decides to play it brightly, airily) New business methods! Endless calculations over trifles! Nonsensical sums! Pestering everyone about him to death to fill in forms which he draws up himself! Inventories – he wants to know the exact number of raspberry bushes on the estate. Raspberries! The birds of the air seed raspberries going about their business! To the neglect of the real concerns: crops, grain, timber, cattle, tenants. Waste of time!
Paul And prayers?
Arina Supplications!
Paul Well, prayers and form-filling: after the seminary you put him into the Civil Service.
Arina Pettifogging – he’d go to court over a blade of grass. Needlessly making enemies! Meanness, ‘piety’ – the air is poisoned with piety – and his hypocrisy: it’s useless to him, getting him nowhere! And his . . . and the rest of it. (She has reined herself back.)
Paul More than flesh and blood can stand. ‘Love is not where most it is professed’?
She laughs (without knowing why).
You are speaking, Mother, of your favourite child.
Arina Nobody’s smarm and fawning ever took me in.
Paul What did?
Arina ‘What did’?
Paul You gave him that beautiful estate.
Arina And I gave you here.
Paul Here and there don’t quite equate. And three years ago – land fever caught up with you in your retirement – you bought Townsend’s.
Arina It came on the market at last.
Paul Paid out big money for it, your own money.
Arina Where’s the sin in buying Townsend’s?
Paul Added it to his estate.
Arina The continuity of that place now. One tract, the sweep of it, from the river to the first slopes of the mountain. Marvellous! The range of it, nearly as far as the eye can see, to the farm I gave the orphans, and even to the rocks beyond that.
Paul Marvellous. And now you are here, in your horse-drawn transport, with ‘the orphans’, my nieces, and – anybody else?
Ulita whispers to him.
Paul Coachman and maid. Why? A social call? To enquire about my health?
Arina I didn’t know you were unwell.
Paul So it’s simply a social call.
Arina It’s not . . . I’ve come to stay.
Paul Have you, Mother? (He pushes his glass to Kiry for a refill and, only when that business is effected, he says:) You’re welcome.
Though humiliated, perceptively she’s relieved and relaxes, somewhat. Kiry has another drink.
Kiry How it’s coming down out there!
Paul It was raining when you left my brother’s place this morning?
Arina No.
Kiry Half-rotten hay for the cattle this winter, the rye only j
ust in flower.
Arina Well, sitting around in the afternoon drinking won’t help matters.
Paul (flashpoint) And what would you have me do about it? Shift the rain from here to the bloodsucker’s place? Would that suit you?
Arina I –
Paul Did it never occur to you that some people might like to live their lives other than the particular way you would like them lived?
And as he mutters to himself ‘Sitting around in the afternoon’, Ulita whispers in his ear something about ‘her maid’, and:
Paul Where’s your maid?
Arina She –
Paul Where’s your maid?
Arina I sent her to the kitchen. When we arrived and nobody came to meet us I had a look around. In the kitchen I saw the staff sitting there, shovelling food down themselves and throwing what they didn’t want under the table, so I sent Vera, my maid –
Paul She (Ulita) is housekeeper here!
Arina She was my scullery maid.
Paul He (Kiry) manages the estate!
Arina He was –
Paul You cannot retire and continue to be in charge: some one person gives the orders in a place. It isn’t my idea: it’s the rule, everyone acts on it. I know my orders are stupid, yours are clever. You are so clever, Mother, your favourite child has turned you out of your home.
Arina He didn’t turn me out of –
Paul He’s made a beggar of you! You want to stay here – so too your ‘orphans’, maid, coachman, anybody else – you’re welcome, but you give orders to no one, you have no say whatsoever in the running of my household or estate and you do not come near my rooms.
He indicates that he wishes to leave and that the decanter should follow him. Ulita assists him and Kiry follows them off with the decanter and glasses.
Arina sits there (‘What have I done?’) Anna is in tears again. Lena looks disdainful of Arina and her uncle Paul is even lower in her estimation.
Lena He looks like death.
Scene Three
The ghosts have returned, bridging this scene with Scene Two. Steven and Victor, revelling in a Heine poem – revelling in their coughing and laughter – as if in mockery of Arina’s state.
Steven and Victor (recite, sing, swap and deliver lines simultaneously)
Nach Frankreich zogen zwei Grenadier’,
Die waren in Russland gefangen.
