by S. T. Joshi
LUCIA
[Demurely after a pause] Do you want to kiss me?
HELIOGABALUS
[He begins slowly to take off his tunic. As he answers, it is over his head] I am perfectly willing. But, I warn you, I’m not going to stand any more Christian kisses. And what’s more, if I’m interrupted any more by any low-comedy Palais Royal knocking on that dog-gone door just as I am on the point of—
[He is duly cut short by a loud knocking on the door. He tries to get out of his tunic quick ly, and then, thinking better of it, decides to let it down again]
HELIOGABALUS
[Wrathfully] What is it now? [An unintelligible answer from without] Hey? [Another mumble] I can’t hear you. Come in.
[Enter RUFINIUS. He stops near the door and glances at LUCIA dubiously]
RUFINIUS
I came in, Majesty, to report—
[He stops]
HELIOGABALUS
[Coming down toward RUFINIUS] What! I’m good and damn sick of this “I came in to report, Majesty,” just as I’m about to—What’s up? More trouble?
RUFINIUS
No, Majesty. The ladies are all asleep.
HELIOGABALUS
Hear, hear! And he “comes in to report, Majesty” just as Majesty is about to—
RUFINIUS
The Empress Paula is breathing very heavily, Majesty. The doctors are trying to revive her.
HELIOGABALUS
[In a sudden rage] What! Revive her! Seven thousand loud damns. Tell them to give her another dose of the same—give them another dose all ’round. Tell those quacks that—the infernal boobies! Off go their toes if a single, patient wakes—and both ears. Now quick, before they revive her!
[Pushes RUFINIUS toward the door]
RUFINIUS
As you order, Majesty. But there is another matter.
HELIOGABALUS
What is it, foul fool?
RUFINIUS
Another one of the ladies has come over from the North Wing—Dacia.
HELIOGABALUS
Ah, Dacia! What does she want? Surely she—
RUFINIUS
Oh, not at all. She asked me to inquire how her Majesty is, and if you yourself are feeling quite well.
HELIOGABALUS
Ah, very thoughtful of her. Tell her I am quite well. And don’t forget to thank her. Remember, Rufinius, give her my thanks.
RUFINIUS
[Going to the door] As you order, Emperor.
HELIOGABALUS
Tell her not to neglect her music lessons. And—but just say I may want to see her for an instant tomorrow—some business—of state—that I had forgotten.
RUFINIUS
As ordered, Majesty.
[He goes out]
LUCIA
You are still thinking of that heathen Dacia.
HELIOGABALUS
Nonsense, sweet potato. You are really quite absurd. [Suddenly irritated] Damn it all, a man must be polite.
LUCIA
[Jealously] But you used to love her before I converted you to the Faith.
HELIOGABALUS
[Starting to take off his tunic again] Ah, who knows? Love—what is it? A sort of optical delusion, an enchantment—almost alcoholic.
[He gets it over his head, and stands rubbing his bare arms and shoulders]
LUCIA
Love comes from the soul.
HELIOGABALUS
Yes, even the soul takes a hack at it.
[He starts to climb into the small bed]
LUCIA
[Loudly] Where are you going?
HELIOGABALUS
[His leg in mid-air, coaxing in baby-like tone] Please! I don’t want to sleep over there—[indicating the big bed]—in Siberia. It’s so cold—and when I get cold it always gives me my stomach-ache.
LUCIA
No! One must not think of the flesh, Cæsar.
HELIOGABALUS
But you’re my wife, aren’t you? You wouldn’t have me freeze to death?
LUCIA
But not a pagan wife. I am a Christian wife.
HELIOGABALUS
Well, doesn’t a Christian wife promise to cherish her husband? [Still coaxing, and shivering] Please!
LUCIA
No.
HELIOGABALUS
Please, please!
LUCIA
Again, no, Cæsar.
HELIOGABALUS
[With a weary sigh, crawling into the big bed] Lucia, I can’t understand you or this Christianity either. What’s the idea of trying to make people miserable by forbidding them to do what they want to, and then, when they’re unhappy about it, telling them they’re awfully happy but don’t know it?
[LUCIA rolls over and does not reply. HELIOGABALUS sighs]
HELIOGABALUS
Anyway, I don’t seem to get used to this going to bed sober. [He props himself up in bed, and rambles on without paying much heed to LUCIA] Now, you were saying that love is of the soul. But see what a conclusion it brings you to: then even, old Paula must have a soul, for old Paula used to love me.
LUCIA
[Sleepily] Paula, too, has an immortal soul.
HELIOGABALUS
The gods forbid! [Humorously] But what of, er—what of, say Dacia, for example?
LUCIA
[Yawning] This Dacia, too, has a soul.
HELIOGABALUS
Nobly spoken. And much better news! [Half dreamily] But what is this so-called soul you speak of? Is it a gas? Has it got length, breadth, thickness? Is the soul in the body, or the body in the soul? When I used to cut a Christian into two halves, which half was the soul in? Was it divided too? Well, then, suppose I had him run through a sausage cutter, and he came out, say, in four million pieces: was the soul in four million pieces, too? You say that the soul re-enters the body on the day of judgment. Well, suppose I take two Jews and cut off their heads, and put the head of A on the body of B, and vice versa. Does the soul of A go into the body of A or into the head of A, which is on the body of B? If it goes into the head, is it responsible for the sins of the body of B? [He reaches over and, slyly watching LUCIA out of the corner of his eye, pours out a goblet of the brandy which the doctors have left th ere, slowly sipping it with much lip-smacking as he goes on] Do you follow me?
LUCIA
[Half-asleep] Oh, how you talk, Cæsar!
HELIOGABALUS
Talk? Talking is my trade, little icicle. Talk is the heart’s blood of politics. . . . And of love. I used to have even greater skill than I have today. He had a smooth and slippery tongue, had Heliogabalus. Years ago, when I was a lieutenant in the army, I used to—[sighs] Well, they were all willing: my conscience is perfectly clear. As the lawyers say, Caveat emptor. When a girl has a taste for epigrams she must be careful: a man of my wit is dangerous. I’ll never forget my poor dear first wife—good old Marcia. It was an epigram that made her fall in love with me. I remember the circumstances perfectly. She was complaining that love was beyond her comprehension—that it was ineffable, indescribable, transcendental. “Love,” I replied, with droll perspicacity, “Love,” I replied, “is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.”
[He chuck les]
LUCIA
[Yawns audibly, and turns over]
HELIOGABALUS
You interrupt me, cold darling. What I was about to say is that poor old Marcia laughed so hard she rolled clear out of bed. An old joke—as old as the Babylonians. But fact! You should have heard the bump when she landed on her—[a sidelong glance]—her upholstery. I had to haul her back into bed. [He sips again] Ah, love, indeed! A short preface to a long book! [He pauses and waits for appreciation. No sound comes from LUCIA. He goes on in a slightly louder voice] Love is like war: easy to begin but very hard to stop. [Another inquiring glance at LUCIA] When love dies there is never any funeral: the corpse remains in the house.8 [Another] A woman in love is less modest than a man: she has less to be ashamed of. [A longish pause. He takes a deep draught] Love is the delusion
that one woman differs from another.9 [LUCIA is still silent. He lifts himself to his elbow and regards her contemplatively. He calls her softly] Lucia! Sweet Lucia! Asleep! [A sigh] Christianity is fatal to the—er—epigram. How Marcia used to giggle! And little Dacia! Dacia has a sense of humour. An intelligent girl, Dacia. And how her nose puckers when she is a bit—squiffed. Somehow, I—[He empties the goblet. and composes himself. The regular breathing of LUCIA can be heard] This Christianity may be all right in the day-time, but at night—[Suddenly, from somewhere below the window there comes the soft, low sound of a girl’s voice, raised in song. It is a song of love and passion, and HELIOGABALUS sits up in bed to listen. Toward the end he glances at LUCIA, scarcely concealing a rising aversion. The song ended, he settles himself, wets his lips, and smiles amorously]
HELIOGABALUS
[In a caressing whisper] Dacia!
CURT AIN
ACT III
The next night.
A corridor in the palace. It stretches longitudinally across the stage and is rather narrow. In the wall to the back there is a wide and high arch, covered with heavy hangings of imperial purple, showing two large embroidered H’s, with wreaths above them, in gold. The solid wall of the corridor, seen to the two sides of the central hangings, is of coloured marble. The hangings conceal the state banquet hall, and the corridor is the emperor’s means of getting to the latter from his private apartments. All decorations are simple, but of the utmost richness.
During the whole act, down to the last scene, sounds of revelry come from the banquet hall—laughter, music and the clinking of goblets—now faintly and now loudly.
As the curtain rises PISO and POLORUS enter, followed by a slave pushing their rolling table of medicines and instruments. They are in long white tunics, reaching below the knees, and with short sleeves—the early Roman equivalent of modern operating gowns.
PISO
[To the slave] Here, Ambrose, shove it to this side.
[The slave runs the table to the left, halts it by the back wall, and exits]
POLORUS
[Officiously] Where is the headache powder?
PISO
[Reaching to the shelf beneath the table, he brings up a huge blue bottle] Here you are. Do you think we have enough?
POLORUS
It’s enough to kill them, but I doubt that it’s enough to cure them, once they get started.
PISO
Well, if we run out of it, we can give them some cholera mixture. They’ll never know the difference.
POLORUS
[Busily arranging the bottles] All this does me good, my boy. It makes me young again.
PISO
Do you think the moral movement is really over?
POLORUS
If it isn’t, then why this good old-fashioned banquet? Why all the old crowd? Why all the old girls? I suspect that Paula arranged the whole thing. Have you seen the list of guests?
PISO
No.
POLORUS
Well, not a tank is missing. Every zinc-lined stomach and copper-plated kidney in Rome is here. By the way, have we got enough stomach-pumps?
PISO
[Indicating them] Here are six.
POLORUS
Maybe that will be enough. [He roots among the medicines] I have a feeling that this will finish the Christian wife. She’ll never stand for an old-time banquet.
PISO
Then let us thank all the gods. If Christianity ever actually got on its legs, the doctoring business would go to pot. All this praying and fasting and going to bed at ten o’clock is fatal to pathology. The aim of medicine is to save a man from the just cons equences of his own vices. If he gives up his vices, then—
POLORUS
But he never does. All he ever comes to is the exchange of one vice for another. This praying that you mention is a vice. Fasting is a vice. Going to bed at ten o’clock is a vice.
PISO
Maybe so. But I am speaking medically. The medicine that we studied was designed for certain ends. It supposes the existence of certain vices. You and I know, for example, how to treat a man who has eaten too much or who hasn’t had sleep enough. But what of the man who has fasted, and at the same time got too much sleep? There you stand medicine on its head. And I am too old to learn it all over again.
POLORUS
[Argumentatively] You make imaginary difficulties, Dr. Piso. Simply give him a dose of salts, say I, and trust to luck. You talk as if a physician had to cure his patient. Nonsense. All he has to do is to try to cure him.
PISO
[Bridling] Is that so? Then how do you—
[He is cut short by the entrance of CAIUS MACRINUS from the left. CAIUS lumbers toward PISO and is seen to be already far gone in liquor]
CAIUS
Say, Doctor—
PISO
Why, Commander! What brings you here?
CAIUS
Ain’t this the night of the banquet? I thought this was the night of the banquet. If this ain’t the night of the banquet, then I—
PISO
Of course it is. But how did you get here?
CAIUS
Ain’t this the palace? I thought this was the palace. I saw a lot of girls going in the basement and so I thought it was the palace.
PISO
So it is. But this is the Emperor’s private corridor. You ought to have gone the other way, through, the atrium.
CAIUS
Excuse me, gentleman. I apologize. [He attempts a right-about-face] Which way did you say? I thought I was in the palace. I saw a lot of cuties going into the basement and so I thought it was the palace. [Suddenly pulling himself up] But say, Doctor, I knew I wanted to see you about something. You are Dr. Piso, ain’t you?
PISO
I am the Dr. Piso.
CAIUS
I remember you that time I had that carbuncle. Where was it? Somewhere in Gaul. My, my! How the years do skip along! Here it’s July again—[He pauses uncertainly] Is it? Is it July again?
PISO
[Professionally] You say you desire to consult me, Commander?
CAIUS
Doctor, you know what it is—this sea-faring life. I thought my legs would give out first. But it turns out to be my stomach.
PISO
You have indigestion?
CAIUS
No, sir! I can digest anything. I could eat an alligator. Tail and all.
PISO
But—
CAIUS
[Looking about him cautiously] Shhhh! I’m coming to it! I can eat anything, but—but—
[His voice quavers]
PISO
But you’re not what you used to be at—
CAIUS
[He nods mournfully] Half a dozen bottles of wine, and I’m not worth a damn. The fact is, I am almost a teetotaler—practically. I hardly drink a thing—scarcely. [He sighs boozily] Think of what’s ahead of me tonight. They’re all here—the military, the judiciary, the Senate. If I drink with all those gold-fish, then I’ll be laid up tomorrow, and maybe die. And if I don’t drink, then I disgrace the navy.
PISO
Too bad. But maybe I can help you.
CAIUS
That’s what I was getting at, Doctor. I remember, out in Asia Minor, how those slick Persians would take a hooch of something or other, and then they were ready for anything. The point is, what was it?
PISO
Olive oil.
POLORUS
Ammonia.
PISO
Ammonia your uncle!
POLORUS
[Bitingly] Yes, ammonia one’s uncle! An ounce in a glass of milk, before or after.
CAIUS
Could I take them both?
PISO
Yes, if you are crazy.
POLORUS
Why not? The ammonia will fix him, and the olive oil won’t kill him. [Busying himself at the table] Let us mix them.
[He pours the olive oil and ammonia i
nto a beaker, and starts to stir the mixture]
CAIUS
[Getting affectionate and placing his arm around POLORUS’ neck] Oh, Doctor! Give me a big one! Don’t tease me with a pony!
POLORUS
This is the regular size for elephants and gladiators. Now—there you are—down with it!
[He hands CAIUS the beaker. CAIUS downs it at a fearful gulp, and comes up spluttering and rolling his eyes]
CAIUS
[Faintly] Is there a chaser?
PISO
No. Let it alone. The fire will go out of itself.
[CAIUS attempts to speak, but achieves only an unintelligible whisper]
POLORUS
[Elbowing him toward the left] Go out in the atrium, Commander, and stick your head in the pool.
[CAIUS again attempts to speak, but cannot, and waddles off]
PISO
[Calling after him] Don’t forget the professor!
POLORUS
[Coming back] That old soak is on his last legs. Practically a teetotaler! I wonder what he—
PISO
[At the table] Where did you get that olive oil?
POLORUS
Out of the tall yellow bottle.
PISO
Well, you wasted four ounces of good turpentine liniment.
POLORUS
[Examining the bottles] Um, it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other. But I didn’t waste any ammonia. I gave him ninety per cent. alcohol.
PISO
What are the odds? I once cured a case of chilblains with a couple of liver pills.
POLORUS
You ought to try some of those pills on the Emperor.
PISO
Ought to try them? I have given him a keg of them.
POLORUS
Then it’s no wonder I can’t cure him.
PISO
[Irascibly] You? Do you ever cure patients? Oh, my word! It’s those infernal powders of yours that counteract the pills. No wonder he gets worse. I can never give him enough of my pills to catch up with your powders. If you—
[He is interrupted by the sudden appearance of SIMON, the Christian giant, from the right. SIMON’S eyes are staring, and he is evidently labouring under much excitement]
SIMON
[In a sepulchral voice] God be with you!
PISO
[Startled] The same to you, Reverend. But what are you doing here?
SIMON
[Mysteriously] I have business here.
POLORUS
Business here? Don’t you know what’s going on?
SIMON
I see preparations for debauchery—sin—venery—the devil’s work.
