Andersen's English

by Sebastian Barry

  Cockcrow.

  The sun flooding the garden and house like a wave.

  The sea in the distance, sparkling, new.

  Aggie comes in to Andersen.

  Andersen Ah, little maid.

  Aggie Yes, sir?

  Andersen I wake.

  Aggie Yes, sir.

  Andersen You did never take my clothes last night and flatten them?

  Aggie Flatten them, sir?

  Andersen Make them flat for the morning.

  Aggie No, sir, I did not think to press your clothes, that is true, sir.

  Andersen And my linenings, privy linenings, not gathered from the chair. (Putting on his gown.)

  Aggie No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of touching your private things, sir, without your say so. Besides, my hands were not clean. I had been gutting Mr Walter’s fish.

  Andersen In houses of princes they are washing my linenings. I also require to be shave.

  Aggie What?

  Andersen Shave, shave?

  Aggie Well, sir, I know nothing about that.

  Walter passing outside.

  Master Walter, do you know anything about shaving? My guess is, no.

  Andersen Could this boy be ask to shave me, little maid?

  Aggie Do you mistake the poor boy for a servant, sir?

  Andersen Oh.

  Walter (angrily) The nearest barber is in Rochester, Mr Andersen, and that is a fair journey by the horse and carriage. (To Aggie.) Was he suggesting I shave him, Aggie? What an idiot he is.

  Andersen I am by the minute growing to animal with pins in body.

  Walter He should not ask me to shave him, Aggie, and if he does again, I will likely do so, and slit his throat while I do, like Sweeney Todd.

  Aggie Don’t be such a goose, Master Walter. The man barely knows what he is saying.

  Walter Don’t you call me a goose.

  Aggie Oh, and I will, and worse too.

  Georgie comes by.

  Walter Here’s Aunt Georgie. I suppose he will ask her now.

  Georgie Ask me what? Poor Mr Andersen, we are crowding in his doorway, and he is quite déshabillé. Excuse us our fantastical rudeness. They are such narrow halls here.

  Andersen Shave me!

  Georgie What? (To Aggie.) You may give him one of Walter’s sea trout for breakfast.

  Aggie Yes, ma’am. Weren’t he so clever to catch them?

  Walter They throw themselves on the hooks this time of year. What I love best of all is the darkness.

  Georgie There was a bright moon the whole night.

  Walter Not under the trees there by the river. It is lovely there.

  Andersen May I call carriage, Mrs Georgie?

  Georgie Oh?

  Andersen To go to Roch-es-ter.

  Georgie To Rochester? Why ever so?

  Andersen For barber.

  Georgie But, my dear Andersen, Mr Dickens and Charlie will take the carriage now to Higham station. I’m afraid you will be marooned here till it returns. We all will be, temporarily.

  Andersen When I make command, you must do. This is law of hostility.

  Georgie You mean hospitality, sir. Good gracious, sir. How is it, sir, that a person who exhibits such wonderful fine feeling in his books, can exhibit such a wonderful bearish aspect in his person?

  Andersen What, what? You say what?

  Catherine arrives.

  Georgie I am not about to translate my own anger, sir. That would be quite absurd.

  Catherine Georgina, you will not insult our guest.

  Georgie I do not insult him, Catherine, he does not speak English.

  Catherine I speak English, I hear you. You will not distress Mr Andersen.

  Georgie This is quite insane.

  Catherine Ah yes, ah yes?

  Georgie This is not rational.

  Andersen Madness. Madness.

  Dickens arriving.

  Dickens What is this? What is this phantasmagoria of distress? (To Andersen.) You are weeping, sir? Who is not weeping? I demand to know who is not weeping, so I can confer on them the much admired, much desired Order of the Dry Eye.

  Georgie It is this person causes this mayhem, Charles.

  Dickens May there not be quiet in my house? May there not be peace in my kingdom?

  Georgie (going) A bizarre, intolerable, crude person …

  Catherine You must admonish her severely, Charles.

  Georgie goes.

  Dickens I must go to London. Charlie, Charlie, come down, we must go, we must go.

  Charlie Yes, Papa.

  Dickens Andersen, adieu.

  Dispersal. Catherine on her own.

  Clock striking in the house, the hum of sunlight.

  Georgie (furious, coming back to Catherine) I do not know why you are so obvious in your unhappiness, Catherine, I really do not.

  Catherine Excuse me, sister?

  Georgie I counsel you to find peace in yourself.

  Catherine You wish to be in charge of me also? You wish to be in charge of my children and my household and also of me?

  Georgie I merely wish to create tranquillity and general pleasantness, so Charles can work.

  Catherine Nothing, no force known to man or God, could prevent Charles from working.

  Georgie I think you are blind to him sometimes.

  Catherine Who elected you to this occupation?

  Georgie I think you thought once that I was necessary and useful.

  Catherine After all these latter births, you were useful, you were in every way a wonder. But Plorn is nearly six, and I am more robust, and my spirits are good now, better by the day. We are here in this new house. My ambition is to be happy here. You must not become atrocious to me. (A moment.) Wait, wait, wait, wait.

  Catherine holds Georgie’s arms, puts her head down.

  Let us not be at war, let us not be at war, the two of us …

  They embrace. Georgie goes.

  Time passing.

  Catherine, alone now, in the sitting room by the fire. Outside, finches and other small birds singing. Aggie comes in to her with her bucket.

  Aggie Do you want me to keep the fire going, Mrs Dickens? It is very sunny.

  Catherine Do, do, please, Aggie – how this cold creeps in about my legs.

  Aggie I am always cold, ma’am. That’s what comes of eating only a little, and carrying coals and scantlings all the day.

  Catherine I hope you will not say we don’t feed you, Aggie. I rather think you have fattened out of late.

  Aggie I won’t fit my pinnies in a bit.

  Catherine Just keep the fire going, Aggie, and do it – discreetly. That is how things are done in a good household.

  Aggie Yes, Mrs Dickens.

  Aggie goes out into the garden to dump the cinders. When she reaches the door, Kate is just coming in.

  Kate stops out of sight when she hears her mother speak.

  Catherine (to herself ) It is not as if anything terrible has occurred, beyond harsh words, beyond being accused of lethargy. I accuse myself also of fatness, of a certain disgustingness of form brought on by bearing so many children year after year. Oh, when little Dora died, I so wished to grieve, but his grief was so much greater, so much more important – and something of him went down with her into the underworld, leaving me with half a ghost, half a shining man.

  Walter appears in the garden.

  Walter and Aggie snatch a kiss, checking they are unseen.

  Catherine crying.

  I make no sense, I make no sense. When we should be quiet, after the day, he becomes agitated, wakeful, watching me closely, till I am thinking he is noting every wobble in my poor body, and remembering years ago, when it was often said I was like a wraith, a beautiful revenant. I always got compliments when I was a girl, far more than Georgie. He said I was the loveliest creature he had ever seen. And wrote me such letters.

  Kate bustles in. Kisses her mother.

  There’s a strange sound from somewhere.

&n
bsp; Catherine (after a moment) What is that wailing sound? Do you hear a wailing?

  Kate (listening) I do. (Looking out.) It is Mr Andersen, Mama, down by the roses.

  Catherine What is he doing?

  Kate Wailing, Mama.

  Catherine I should go and join him, and we can wail together.

  Kate takes out a letter from her pocket. She just holds it.

  Time passes, the whirr of darkness, the clocks in the house sounding.

  Dickens and Georgie mysteriously walzing.

  It is night again, Walter crosses the garden as before with his rod.

  Andersen is walking in the garden. Walter doesn’t see him in the dark.

  Andersen Young sir.

  Walter My God, Andersen, my heart nearly leapt from my chest.

  Andersen Excuse. But I am grateful for moment to say, sorry for bad moment this morning.

  Walter Which one, Mr Andersen? Do you refer to your suggesting that I shave you?

  Andersen Yes. Most stupid, young sir.

  Walter I am Walter Dickens, a son surplus to requirements, sir, you do not need to apologise to me. It was no surprise to me that you thought me a servant.

  Andersen You are teasing, sir.

  Walter As the son of a great man, I have met all the great writers of the age. Thackeray, Tennyson, Longfellow and poor Jerrold. I am sure I should be flattered to be apologised to by the greatest living writer for children.

  Andersen For children?

  Walter Perhaps it sounds odd in English.

  Andersen It sound odd in all language. But I only wish to say my sorry.

  Andersen holds him by the arm. There is something of a proposition in the gesture.

  Walter (taking his arm away) That is quite all right.

  Andersen Remember, young man, all souls are equal. It is the law of God.

  Walter I am sure you are mistaken, sir.

  He is crying.

  Andersen You are weeping? You are sad.

  Walter I am not weeping because I am sad. There are varieties of weeping, sir. I am weeping because I am alive. And it is extremely odd to be talking like this out in the garden.

  Walter moves on past.

  Andersen Did you catch fish?

  Walter One cannot catch fish every night.

  Andersen Our Lord Christ, only He always catch fish? (More fluently.) Are you a believer, sir? Of course. I have seen the gold and jewels of a thousand churches, all over the world. My God is my redeemer and my hope.

  Walter Sir, you have lost me. I do not speak that language. I presume it is your own native Danish?

  Andersen Ah, I slip, I slip – sorrow, sorrow.

  Walter goes.

  Now the distant music of Handel’s Messiah.

  A sense of the soaring pillars of the Crystal Palace, fountains, glass, light.

  Catherine and Andersen sit side by side, the thousands of voices singing, the music pouring against them. Their faces look out, rapt. In a strange light, an indistinct figure brings a lighted candle. Light burns around her.

  Catherine Oh, Mr Andersen. It is a young girl, with a single candle, for innocence, I expect. How beautiful it is.

  Andersen Beauty, beauty, beauty.

  Change of light, vanished palace, Dickens’ sitting room again.

  Catherine and Andersen in the same position, but in the seats by the fire. Aggie – the innocent girl – is putting a taper to it.

  Catherine Aggie, you did not keep the fire going for us while we were at the Crystal Palace.

  Aggie I did, ma’am, but it went out.

  Catherine Firelight, it is rather kind and good, do you not think, Mr Andersen?

  Andersen Often I sit in my room in Copenhagen with fire, and outside, outside the window, there is the harbour so familiar, the little light of the sea, and I am for the moments, in that time, Mrs Dicken, happy. All terrible things pass away. When I was a young boy, you see, Mrs Dicken, I feared so many matters. And I still fear.

  Catherine Yes, you see, that is what I think also. That is what I think.

  Aggie sweeping the hearth of ashes, blowing the fire into flames again.

  Andersen Then we are in the same thought.

  Catherine Your English is becoming good, Mr Andersen, because your mind is always thinking so clearly behind the words.

  Andersen Thank you, Mrs Dickens.

  Catherine Aggie, are you finished there?

  Aggie Yes, ma’am – just.

  Andersen She is – the Ash Girl – among the ashes. The Ash Girl becomes princess, little maid, at end of story. Not all stories end so happy.

  Aggie A princess, sir? I don’t think so, sir, begging your pardon.

  Andersen I applaud your honesty, little maid.

  Aggie You give me the bualadh bos, sir.

  Andersen What is that?

  Aggie It is Irish, sir, for applauding.

  Andersen Bualadh bos. (Clapping his hands.) Now I speak English and Irish.

  Catherine I will go up in a minute and give Plorn a kiss, although I suppose he will be asleep. I hope so.

  Andersen I have no child to kiss.

  Catherine But I suppose you have thousands, the thousands that read your stories?

  Andersen Well, well. Yes, yes. But none to kiss at night.

  Catherine No. (A moment.) Your mother is not living, Mr Andersen?

  Andersen No, madam.

  Catherine You were very close, I am sure.

  Andersen Yes, yes. But very – poor.

  Catherine Oh?

  Andersen Yes.

  Catherine You weren’t born in a princely house?

  Andersen Ah, ah.

  Catherine You have all the qualities of a prince. Charles also had difficulties when he was a child. He never speaks of it, but it is always there. Sometimes I see that child in his face. You have not married, Mr Andersen?

  Andersen No, no, I have never marry. I have loved, please do not think I have not. And I am old, but still I hope … I am the bachelor of the old comic plays, no? Never marry, but I have been able to observe that difficult – landscape.

  Catherine Yes. What excellent English, again, Mr Andersen. It is so good to talk. I know you have trouble understanding me. Perhaps that is a mercy.

  Andersen perhaps does not understand, but he lays a hand on Catherine’s arm.

  Andersen Dear lady.

  The sound of Dickens returning.

  Catherine (brightening) Ah, here he is. Back from the city.

  Andersen (jumping up) Ah, ah.

  Dickens comes in.

  Dickens You are cosy in here. (Humorously.) Mr and Mrs Andersen.

  Andersen Dear Dickens. Welcome.

  Catherine How did your arrangements go, Charles?

  Dickens That was long since. I got down from the train at Rochester. I have walked the remainder of the way. I have stamped along the roads, hour after hour, tireless, feeling more energy, more energy rise into me, mile by mile, intolerable. But I have established a place and a time for our rehearsals for The Frozen Deep, and devilish difficult it was. In the old days, it was easier.

  Catherine (fervently) Wonderful old days.

  Dickens Perhaps. Yes, one longs for that. When everything was to do, and our limbs fair. And no idea, not a notion, that it could ever come to this. Not an iota of an intimation. I long, I long for that. Do I reject the present? I reject it, I revolt against it. Intolerable. A sort of torment, all the more horrible for being commonly endured. I would go back. Wind back the clocks, I order it. (A moment.) You were certainly a most wonderfully adept actress in that time. Yes. That is true, that is true. And beautiful. That is true, that is true.

  Catherine It is the doing of things properly that is so important. To have a great talent as you both do, what a mercy. That I might paint like Kate – I do pray she continues to do so, fiercely, savagely. I think I must look in my heart, in this latter part of my life, and find what it is I can do. That is the grace of life.

  Andersen Yes, ye
s.

  Dickens (a moment) And so –

  Dickens looks like he is going to go again.

  Catherine (rising) I will come with you.

  Dickens Well, well, if you say so. Good night then, Andersen.

  Andersen walks up to him and kisses him.

  Andersen Be assure – great love, gratitude.

  Dickens Of course, Andersen.

  Catherine and Dickens outside the room now, downstage.

  I did not wish to embarrass you in front of Andersen, but I fancy I will sleep in my dressing room tonight.

  Catherine Oh, Charles, that won’t be comfortable for you.

  Dickens Did the carpenter come by any chance to block the door?

  Catherine No, he did not.

  Dickens Ah, you see. If I ran my magazine on such casual grounds it would not last a month. You see, you see, I am exhausted. Myself and Wilkie did a reading of the play, and I am so very tired. And have not slept well these last weeks.

  Catherine But the play is written, no, Charles? And you have performed it before? So beautifully.

  Dickens Thank you, Catherine. Yes. But it stirs up the mind. You remember how fantastically demanding the role of Wardour was. That final scene, where I die. Even as I ran the lines, in a casual manner almost, I looked up, and I was astonished to see Wilkie was weeping, that hard young man that never weeps.

  Catherine It might be better if he wept for the real world, and not a mere play. I hear such scandalous things about Wilkie these times. I wonder should we even have him here at the house any more? A man that keeps an establishment of two women in odd circumstances is not company for my two daughters.

  Dickens That is all nonsense. He is a fiery man, that is all.

  Catherine You are angry again. I cannot bear this anger.