NUN: How lonely, how lonely you – (CECILIA’s eyes fill with tears. The NUN makes a subtle signal. The other NUNS hurry forward and pinion CECILIA with ropes, spinning her round to bewilder her. CECILIA is gagged, and held still. The moon shines down. CECILIA’s eyes turn from side to side. A FIGURE comes into her eyeline.)
KING HENRY: Yer boat’s stuck in my mooring. (The NUNS look alarmed as HENRY walks onto the lawn. FACTOR and LLOYD hang back. HENRY looks at CECILIA.) And you’ve trussed my tart.
NUN: We are the Collectors of the Convent of –
KING HENRY: Yes, well, I am running out of patience with the convents, aren’t we all? (The NUNS bow to him. He sings.)
Oh, she who walks upon the night
Shall see such things as stop the heart –
(He ceases abruptly.)
You are not to handle lunatics in future.
I am putting lunacy out to tender. Good night. (The NUNS turn to go. One stays to unloosen CECILIA.) No, leave her trussed.
(They depart. He sings.)
We’ll slice the moon into two parts
And lick the blood from the wet grass,
(They look back.)
My love and I we will be wild
Unshamed and undefiled, (FACTOR and LLOYD clap the rhythm.)
I CAN KEEP GOING!
Off the grey corpse of charity
We’ll take our dinner and our tea –
Not good –
Who dares impede our wet embrace
Let him go wary of his face,
Into her skirts my hand will be
The silent pilgrim of the faith…
I came to kill you. Or to fuck you. I did not know which. And I find others. Killing or fucking you. I did not know which. (Pause.) How beautiful to find you silent. (The sound of oars in the water.) Boleyn’s been here I know, and done a deal with you. I know everything. I have to. (Pause.) How wonderful you cannot speak. Already you are diminishing, you are evaporating in the heat of my indifference, like a puddle in the sun. How small you are! How mild you are! How did I ever? Nothing so absurd as spent passion… (He goes close to her.) Speak, then.
I saved you from the madhouse. (LLOYD and FACTOR laugh loudly.) Oh! They laugh the contrary! They say I am the madhouse!
(He looks into her eyes.) Speak…
CECILIA’s eyes look into his, and as if she had spoken, he nods, kindly, and turns away. The moon goes behind a cloud.
THE FORTY
(Few Words)
I do these things
Oh how I persist I am at least persistent
And I ask
Does anybody want them?
The answer comes back
Nobody at all
So I go on
1
A WOMAN folds a sheet. A MAN enters.
MAN: I do not wish to be hurt again
(She proceeds, as if unaware of him.)
I do not wish to be hurt again
(She completes the task, folding the sheet over her arm. She is still.)
I do not wish to be hurt again
(The woman allows her head to fall. She gazes at the floor. The man observes her. At last she lifts her head and goes to walk from the room. The walk becomes a run. Almost at once she runs back in. She is still, her gaze on the floor. Suddenly the man tips forward, convulsed in tears. The woman watches him. The man recovers, finds a handkerchief, and cleans his face. The woman walks smartly past him. He seizes her by her free wrist and stops her abruptly. She declines to look at him.)
WOMAN: You do not wish to be hurt again
(He says nothing, but neither does he release her.)
You do not wish to be hurt again
(Now he releases her. She walks out smartly. Again she returns. She rises to her full height, the sheet clasped to her chest, her back presented to him.)
MAN: I do not wish
WOMAN: (Speaking over him.) You do not wish to be hurt again
(She turns swiftly to face him. They exchange a long stare, concluded when the man thrusts two fingers into his mouth and whistles raucously. He stops. Now he violently disorders his hair, scratching like an animal, and stops. She is apprehensive.)
You do not wish to be hurt again
(They watch. Now he circles her. She clings to the folded sheet. The strain tells.)
You do not wish
MAN: (Speaking over her.) I do not wish to be hurt again
(He stops. He extends a hand, palm uppermost. She is slow to respond. The hand falls. His head inclines. They remain still.)
*
2
A MOTHER holds an envelope, opened. A SON enters. He reads her expression. He recognizes the envelope as a letter of conscription.
SON: If I go I shan’t come back
(She bites her lip. He frowns…)
I know
I know if I go I shan’t come back
I know
I know
(His eyes assure her of his assertion. He looks away. He walks violently around the room and stops.)
If I go
If I go
(And resumes the walk, stopping at last. His eyes seek hers.)
If
If
(She avoids his eyes. Her husband enters. The woman extends the letter. He recognizes the envelope. His shoulders lift and fall. The woman’s arm droops. They are all still, the old couple stare at the floor, the son looks at them, one after the other…)
If I go
(The father looks up.)
If I go I know I shan’t come back
(The father frowns… the son persists.)
If
If
(The father looks away. His eyes travel to the eyes of his wife. He leaves the room. The son is still. He stares at the floor. After a long time he goes to the mother, and taking her by the shoulders, draws her close to him. With his right hand he draws her head into his shoulder. He strokes her hair like a lover.)
I shan’t come back
(Her sigh is vast and fills her.)
I know
I know
*
3
Three men enter bearing a fourth, bound and blindfolded. They put down their burden, and stand around him, heads tilted to the ground like pall-bearers at a grave. The bound man arches his back, squirms, struggles in his bonds, but finding them too strong, ceases his futile efforts and is still…
BOUND MAN: So sorry
So sorry
So sorry
(The silence bewilders him. He rises into a sitting position, his head turning, acutely listening, sensing he might be alone but not certain…)
So sorry
So sorry
So sorry
(He is about to resume his struggle when he hears a woman enter. He is still. The three men go to the woman, and queuing, kiss her formally. They return to their places. She walks down to the bound man. She looks down at him and weeps. The bound man turns his head to understand. The woman pulls out a handkerchief to absorb her tears. The bound man knows her by her crying. He lies prone, and puts his mouth to her shoe…)
So sorry
So sorry
So sorry
(His apology draws more tears from the woman. In their discomfort the three men turn away their heads. Silence returns. She walks away, as she had entered. The three men close on the bound man and destroy his life, without anger. They step back. They leave, arm in arm as mourners at a funeral…)
*
4
A beggar stands at the side of a road, one hand extended. An elegant couple pass. After a few paces, the man falters and stops. He reaches into his pockets, returns to the beggar and gives him a small coin. The woman, contemptuous, stands with one hand on her hip. The man returns to her, suffused in his own generosity. She declines to move on. Instead she returns to the beggar, who lifts his eyes with a certain apprehension. The woman looks cruelly at him, then with a supreme gesture, draws up her skirt, showing herself, a provocative pose which she mainta
ins for some seconds, then, letting fall her dress, returns to the man, who seethes. Now it is him who declines to move on. He goes back to the beggar and slaps him once over each cheek. The beggar reels but does not fall. The man returns to the woman. They stare at one another, a hatred passes between them… the woman allows her eyes to fall… the man takes her arm and they leave…
*
5
A hospital bed. An elegant woman sits beside a mortally ill man. The woman nervously fingers a costume bag.
WOMAN: Nothing more to say
All said
All said and nothing more to say
(She writhes on the chair. She retrieves her composure. A nurse enters and performs a perfunctory routine at the bedside.)
All said and nothing more to say
(The nurse looks at the woman. The woman laughs in her anxiety, a short, disturbed laugh. The nurse withdraws. The woman stands as if to move swiftly but sits again, and is immobile, the bag clutched on her knees. Suddenly she lets out a short cry and suffocates it. The taut stillness returns. Now she stands desperately and topples the chair. She clutches the bag in front of her. The left hand of the patient rises slowly in the air and falls, unseen but sensed… the woman draws herself to her height. With the bag in one hand, she draws up her skirt with the other, presenting her arse to the patient. Her magnificence inspires the patient to utter a long, slow cry of love. The nurse appears. The woman does not move. The nurse lifts a hand as if to signal disapproval but the fingers curl in sympathy, and are restless…
*
6
Three women laughing uncontrollably. They perambulate, or stop, tossing back their heads, their hands on their hips or pressed to their cheeks. A fourth woman enters whose arms are folded tightly on her chest. She walks slowly, stops, and gazes at the floor. The women drift around her, erupting as soon as they meet one another’s eyes, weeping, issuing strange cries, breathless, stamping their feet, until at last they come to a standstill and a relative silence descends, punctuated only by a sniff or a clearing of the throat. A substantial pause elapses…
WIDOW: I miss my husband
(At once the three women collapse in laughter, shaking, bent in two, streaming with tears… again they slowly recover. The widow affects a modest smile…)
I miss him
(This time the reaction is less severe… the women succeed in repressing much of their laughter by not meeting one another’s eyes and covering their mouths, so that they cannot infect one another… then from the silence, one laughs loud and long and the others collapse in sympathy. The widow walks to the first and smiling observes her as she struggles with her seizure, now a cause of embarrassment to her. At last she subdues herself, looking at the floor. She lifts her eyes to the widow. At once the laugher explodes again, and she turns her back to avoid the sight that caused it… the widow is uncomfortable but not ashamed, the innocent smile still hangs on her lips as she walks to a second woman, who, even as she approaches her, begins to shake her head, lifting a hand and shaking it in a futile gesture of reluctance, but then emits an uncontrollable cry of mirth and surrenders to the torrent that follows it… the widow’s smile fades at last, she lets her hands hang at her sides, her head tilts forward as the laughter, either low or bold, rolls on…)
*
7
A young woman in few clothes. She stands in a posture of modesty. A man enters. He is at ease, also patient. He folds his hands in front of him. The young woman lifts her gaze to his. A substantial pause…
WOMAN: Apparently I’m ill
(Her look is seductive. Suddenly she giggles, and stops.)
Apparently
(She tilts away from him, gazing…)
Apparently
(Her breath is long and studied… the man looks at the floor, unable to sustain their gaze. He runs a hand through his hair. He alters the position of his legs…)
Ill
Ill
Ill apparently
(The man breaks his pose, launching himself towards her as if over a gulf. As he seems about to embrace her he swerves. She giggles, her hand to her mouth. The man observes her over his shoulder, taking her in from a fresh angle. She remains motionless. Again she breathes long and deeply…)
MAN: Ill
(The barely perceptible tilting of her body first in one direction, then another…)
Ill
(He lifts one hand, the fingers active in his contemplation. He drops this hand and lifts the other, massaging his cheek. The woman tilts increasingly, as if she might topple but stays on her feet. The man’s movements repeat themselves and quicken. Now he marches defiantly away from her, stops and regards her from a distance, his fists closed. The woman is quite silent, observing him, and her movements cease as a second man enters, and stopping, looks from the woman to the man…)
Ill
(The second man looks back at the woman…)
Ill apparently
(Both men stroke their faces. The woman giggles, staring at the floor, and stops. An older woman enters, severe in expression but not unkind. She extends a hand to the young woman, who goes to her unresistingly. They walk out. The two men seethe. One takes out dice. They crouch. They shake the dice with a desperation…)
*
8
A woman enters reading a book. It is extended in front of her but she frequently peers over the top of the book, turning on her heel so she takes in all her surroundings. When she turns a page it is done with pointed deliberation. Her movements cease. She appears to concentrate. A youth passes, barely noticing her. Suddenly the woman throws down the book, so it slides to his feet. He looks down. He looks at her. The woman postures with her hands on her hips, expecting the book to be returned to her. The youth seems reluctant, as if his own pride were at stake. The tension is broken at last by her speaking…
WOMAN: Do you know Barescu the great Roumanian?
(The youth is suspicious… his gaze drops from her to the book… since he still declines to pick it up she swaggers a little, turning on her heel at the end of each pass. Suddenly she stamps her foot.)
Bar – escu
Bar – escu
(She sings… low and then falsetto.)
Bar – escu Bar – escu Bar – escu
Bar – escu Bar – escu Bar – escu
(The youth smiles, folding his arms and shrugging with a surprised pleasure. By contrast, she regards him severely. With deliberation she removes one of her leather gloves. When it is free, she tosses it at his feet…)
Do you know Barescu the great Roumanian?
(The youth is made uneasy. His eyes move restlessly from the woman to the glove. She is about to peel off the second glove when he smothers his head in his hands, writhing as if in a fit. Her hands remain extended in mid-action, as he staggers about the stage, stroking his head in a continuous movement, uncoordinated and always in danger of falling… again she sings…)
Bar – escu Bar – escu Bar – escu
(The youth lurches away offstage… the woman takes out a compact. She pulls her hair in the mirror as if frustrated by a curl…)
*
9
A man seated on a chair. He has one leg crossed over the other. His hands lie comfortably in his lap. A second man enters and stands before him. Their eyes engage.
SECOND MAN: Oh, you were very different once
(A pause. The first man stands with a swift action and putting his hands in his pockets, walks, his eyes still on the second man. He retraces his steps and stops. He leans on the back of the chair, tucking one ankle behind the other. He stares the second man into submission. The second man drops his gaze, at the same time making a gesture of emptiness and futility with his hands. A pause, then the first man sends the chair flying over with one movement. The second man looks up, shocked by the violence of the act. The first man repeats his walk, and the second man, cowed, stares at the floor. At the end of the walk the first man bellows with laughter, a laughter which contin
ues and is evidently false. The first man seeks to draw the attention of the second man, turning his head to one side or the other, whereas the second man defies him, staring fixedly at the floor. In the following silence the first man makes pigeon steps round the room, staring all the time at his antagonist, who will not favour him with a look. Suddenly he stops, bends forward and bares his arse. He remains in this position for so long he comes to possess the quality of statuary. Neither man moves, but the tension affects the second man. He emits a low moan, and shakes his head slowly and perpetually, his hands hanging at his sides. When the scene has accumulated its whole quota of despair, a third man enters and in a routine way flings a hood over the second man, who is unresisting. A fourth man enters and with a practised move, covers the first man with a cloth of the same material… they depart… the moan continues under the hood…)
*
10
A man apprehensive but from a conviction he knows can only be unwelcome.
MAN: I realized something has changed
(His head droops…)
I realized something has changed
(He lifts his head defiantly. He looks from one person to another as if expecting an endorsement. His mouth tightens, he senses his solitude. Suddenly he grabs his head in his hands and walks violently in tight circles, stops, his head still clasped. Very slowly his body softens, the tension falls away, his hands fall. He turns to look half over his shoulder. He no longer fears his knowledge…)
I realized…
(He does not feel the need to communicate. A private smile passes over his face. He strokes his face in an affectionate manner. He walks out slowly, one hand stroking the wrist of the other.)
*
11
Bad light. An embracing couple, whose passion isolates them from the world. Their moves are slow, not snatched or urgent. A man passes, looking but ashamed to look. He disappears and immediately returns, pauses, confirms a sense of dread, and without direction, retraces his steps, not looking, filled with the effort of not-looking. Nothing disturbs the lovers. After some time the man returns, as if idly. He stations himself, his back to the couple, and folding his arms, leans his chin in a hand, an affectation of patience. Nothing disturbs the lovers. Now the man with a swift, arbitrary move, sits on the floor, his knees drawn up and begins to laugh, smothering his laughter with his hands. The lovers are unaware of him, and he, since his back is turned to them, can only imagine their actions. His mischief again comes to the relief of his pain. He lies back full length, his arms at his sides. He remains thus for some time, until an uncontrollable sob of laughter causes him to lurch onto his side. The woman is immediately alerted, turns her head only, observes her husband, and strictly and smoothly, pushes her lover away. She keeps her hands in the air, her palms to the lover, who bows and withdraws, stops, bows again and leaves… at last she speaks, her body still averted…
Barker, Plays Eight Page 20
